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TWELVE    ENGRAVINGS    ON  STEEL.  AFTER  P.  A.  LABOUCHERE 

AND 

TWO     HlJ^iDKED      ILLl/STKATlO^IS    0\i    Y^OOD. 

INCLUDING   PORTRAITS  OF  THE  MOST  EMINENT  REFORMERS. 


NEW    YORK: 

p.    P.    PuTis(7^M     &     Sons 

1870. 


HISTORY 

OP 

THE    REFORMATION 

IN     nil. 

SIXTEEISTTH     OENTXJriY. 

BY 

J.    II.    MERLE    D'AUBIGNE,    D.  D. 

WITH 

Twelve    Engravings    on    Steel,   AFTEf\_P.    k.   Labouchep^e 

AND 

(Lluo   ijuuijrcb  Jllustrations  on  'Galoot), 

INCLUDING    PORTRAITS    OF   TUE    MOST    EMINENT    REFORMERS. 


NEW     YORK: 

Gc.    P.    PTJTNAlVr    &    SONS. 

18  72. 


FRBFACE, 


Almost  a  goncratiou  has  jiassed  away  r-iiice  tlio  "  IIIsti)rv  nf  tlic  Reformat  ion"  \va.s  first  published.  I 

When  the   idea  of  writing  it  occurred  to  the  autlior,  he  was  young,  and  he  felt  strongly  impelled 
to  give  a  narrative  of  the  wonderful  works  that  (J()<1  had  wrought  for  Christendom  in  the  Sixteenth     - 
Century.     Aware  of  his  own  incapacity  to  accomplish  the  task,  and  fearing  that,  in  undertaking  it,     j 
he  might  be  acting  rashly,  he  at  first  only  published  a  small  edition.     His  fears  were  not  realized;  and    : 
the  work  met  with  success,  such  as  lie  hail  never  for  a  moment  anticipated.     He  must  thankfully 
ascribe  the  jiruise  to  the  Lord,  who,  he  humbly  believes,  has  helpeil  him. 

The  History  was  not,  howe\er,  written  without  much  labour,  and  much  prayer.  The  author 
earnestly  desired  that  it  should  conduce  to  the  glory  of  (Sod;  and  it  appeared  to  him  that  it  might 
prove  useful  to  shew  forth,  even  in  a  feeble  degree,  the  living  Christianity  of  the  Reformers,  the 
sanctifying  doctrine  by  which  the  Church  was  raised,  through  their  instrumentality,  from  her  state 
of  j)rostration,  and  transfonned  into  a  life-giving  Church.  He  felt  that  the  Holy  Spii'it,  which  then 
worked  in  so  many  hearts,  might  again  manifest  His  power,  and  bring  to  God  some  souls  as  yet 
unacquainted  with  His  saving  strength. 

The  author  had  no  idea,  however,  of  writing  a  book  of  devotion;  his  intention  was  to  write  a 
History.  He  wished  to  represent  faithfully  the  men  and  the  events  of  the  Sixteenth  Centurj*.  With 
this  object  he  studied  the  writings  of  the  Reformers,  and  the  chronicles  of  their  contemporaries.  He 
made  researches  in  tlie  public  and  in  the  private  libraries  in  different  countries.  He  deciphered  many 
manuscripts  of  the  Sixteenth  Century,  several  of  which  were  unknown  till  he  made  use  of  them.  But 
he  felt  that,  in  order  to  accomplish  his  object,  it  was  not  enough  simply  to  give  a  chronicle  of  facts.  , 
That  which  constituted  the  great  wonder  of  the  Reformation,  was  the  setting  forth  of  God's  truth  in  the 
midst  of  human  error — the  breath  of  heaven,  that  blew  upon  the  Church,  and  quickened  into  life  so  ' 
many  of  the  Lord's  sen'ants.  To  shut  oneself  into  a  study  and  pore  o\er  manuscripts,  was  not 
enough  to  enable  him  to  write  this  History;  it  was  necessary  to  know  the  true  springs  of  the  work,  of 
which  the  Reformers  were  the  insti-unit.'nts. 

The  author  was  called,  by  the  circumstances  in  which  he  was  placed  in  (iennany  and  in  his  own 
countiy,  to  take  part  in  struggles  similar  to  theirs,  and  to  share  in  some  experiences  like  theirs.  He  there- 
fore felt  himself  in  active  and  hearty  sympathy  with  their  work.  The  fields  of  labour  on  which  he  was 
engaged  were,  it  is  true,  not  extensive;  the  battles  he  had  to  fight  were,  in  comparison  to  theirs,  to  use 
a  celebrated  expression  of  Voltaire,  "  but  as  a  tempest  in  a  tumbler,'" — "  ttiie  tewpctc  dans  un  verre 
d'eau;"  while  those  of  the  Reformers  were  like  the  ocean  storm,  which  beat  and  break  to  pieces  the 
sturdiest  ships.  The  one  and  the  other  were,  however,  for  the  defence  of  the  same  A^'orll  of  God — for  the 
glory  of  the  same  Gospel;  and  often  did  it  occur,  that  the  events  which  happened  in  his  ministerial 
life  gave  the  author  a  clue  to  understand  those  which  had  happened  three  centuries  before. 

If  the  "  History  of  the  Reformation  "  met  with  some  success,  it  is  owing  to  the  living  power  of  the     i 
doctrines  of  the  Reformation  which  are  there  professeil.     In   our  day  historical  writings   have  been 
more  numerous  and  important  than  at  any  other  period.     Li  France,  in  Germany,  in  England,  in  the     | 
United  States,  and  elsewhere,  works  have  appeared  which  have  won  lasting  fiime  for  their  authors. 
The  writer  of  this  book  has  no  hesitation  in  acknowledging,  that  the  "  History  of  the  Reformation  "  is 
inferior  to  them.     He  does  not  comjiete  with  Thierry,  with  Guizot,  with  Thiers,  Mignet,  Macaulay,     | 
Prescott,  Motley,  and  other  historians;   and  yet  his  History  has  had  immense  circulation,  and  has     j 


PREFACE. 


penetrated  into  the  most  distant  countries.  He  is  tempted  to  ask:  Why  is  this?  Is  it  not  because 
the  truth  of  God  is  openh'  proclaimed  in  the  work?  The  doctrine  of  justification  by  faith  in  Christ  is 
presented  as  being  what  it  really  is — the  powerful  lever  which,  in  the  Sixteenth  Century,  raised  up  the 
fallen  churches,  and  brought  souls  to  Christ. 

!Man  is  well  aware  that  a  new  life  can  only  be  begun  in  him  when  he  has  true  and  joyful  communiou 
^ith  God.  He  knows  that  if  he  is  in  any  degree  to  accomplish  the  Divine  will  here  below,  he  must 
first  find  in  God  a  reconciled  Father,  who  forgives  him  all  his  offences.  He  knows  that  he  can  only 
lo\e  God  when  he  is  con^■inced  that  God  first  loved  him.  He  knows  that  it  is  the  love  of  God  towarcls 
him  which  can  only  bring  forth  in  him  true  humiHty,  self-denial,  hunger  and  thirst  after  righteousness. 
How  would  it  be  possible  for  him  to  enter,  with  courage,  into  the  work  of  personal  sanctification,  if  he 
were  continually  troubled  by  the  reproaches  of  conscience,  and  kept  back  by  the  burden  of  his  sins 
weighing  always  upon  him?  He  must,  before  all,  have  pardon;  he  must  knoio  that  his  sins  are  no 
longer  imputed  to  him,  because  the  Saviour  has  given  His  life  as  a  ransom  for  his  soul — because  He  bore 
on  the  cross  the  punishment  of  his  guilt.  The  conscience  of  a  true  Christian  tells  him  that,  if  his 
reconciliation  with  God  by  Christ  depended  in  any  degree  on  his  sanctification,  he  could  never  feel 
assured  of  having  acquired  the  necessary  amount  of  holiness,  and,  consequently,  could  never  have  joyful 
confidence  in  God;  and  he  would  thus  be  incapable  of  taking  even  the  first  step  in  the  path  of  sanctifica- 
tion. Faith  in  the  expiation  of  Christ,  and  reconciliation  through  His  blood,  is  the  commencement  of 
the  union  of  man  with  God ;  the  gift  of  Divine  grace  gi-atuitously  made,  received  by  faith  without  any 
merit  on  our  part,  is  the  beginning  of  the  new  creation  and  of  the  new  creature.  That  is  the  faith 
taught  by  St.  Paul  and  the  apostles — that  is  the  doctrine  taught  by  Luther  and  the  other  Reformers, 
as  it  had  never  been  taught  since  the  apostohc  times.  That  doctrine  may,  perhaps,  bring  a  smile  to  the 
lips  of  some  great  writers,  of  men  of  the  world ;  and  yet  it  was  that  which  transformed  Christendom 
three  centuries  ago,  and  brought  about  a  new  era, — one  of  light,  of  liberty,  and  of  faith, — contrasting 
forcibly  with  the  darkness  of  the  Middle  Ages.  If  this  book — inferior  in  many  respects  to  the  works  of 
the  great  historians  we  have  named — has  had  some  success,  it  is  owing  not  only  to  the  fact,  that  it 
narrates  faithfully  the  exterior  structure  of  the  Reformation,  but  also,  we  repeat  it,  because  it  sets  forth 
the  spirit  which  pervaded  it,  and  shews  the  heavenly  influence  by  which  it  renewed  the  Church. 

The  "  History  of  the  Reformation  "  has  been  translated  into  the  greater  number  of  modern  languages. 
In  England,  the  first  volumes  which  became  public — before  there  existed  an  international  law  to  protect 
the  property  of  foreign  authors — had  six  different  translators,  and  six  different  English  editors.  The  work 
was  also  translated  into  German,  Dutch,  Italian,  Swedish,  Spanish,  and  Armenian,  as  well  as  into  Arabic 
and  Ilindostanee ;  but  the  author  is  not  aware  whether  these  last  two  translations  were  printed.  There 
is,  perhaps,  no  place  where  the  work  has  been  so  widely  circulated  as  in  the  United  States  of  America. 
It  would  be  almost  impossible  to  ascertain  the  exact  number  of  copies  published  there ;  some  have  esti- 
mated it  at  between  two  and  three  hundred  thousand.  It  is  said  that  it  has  had  a  larger  circulation 
than  any  historical  work  published  in  America  by  any  author,  either  foreign  or  national.  One  circum- 
stance, however,  may  have  contributed  to  this  great  publicity:  there  is  no  international  law  to  protect 
foreign  authors  in  the  United  States,  while  there  are  laws  which  protect  the  woi-ks  of  Americans. 
Messrs.  Prescott,  Motley,  and  others,  have,  therefore,  found  the  reward  of  their  labour,  while  the  author 
of  the  "•  History  of  the  Refonnation  "  has  been  deprived  of  the  (;opyright,  and  of  the  benefit  accruing 
therefrom.  The  saving,  thus  produced  to  his  detriment,  enabled  the  American  publishers  to  give  the 
work  at  a  very  low  price.  Literary  labours — which  demand  the  time,  the  intellectual  powers,  the  best 
exertions  of  an  author — constitute  property,  and  are  as  desening  of  protection  as  the  material  I'esult  of 
a  workman,  or  of  an  artisan,  who  only  gi\es  the  laboiu-  of  his  arms.  If,  however,  the  author  has  not 
grown  rich  thi-ough  his  works,  he  has  had  the  greater  satisfaction  of  knowng  they  have  done  some 
good.  "  It  is  with  us  a  household  work,"  said  an  American  to  him ;  to  which  another  added  :  "  We 
have  gone  through  the  forests  and  lonely  prairies  of  our  country,  and  we  hardly  entered  into  a  log-house 
in  the  far  West,  in  which  the  Bible  and  the  '  History  of  the  Reformation '  were  not  to  be  found." 

Letters  received  from  different  parts  of  Europe,  from  the  United  States,  from  India,  and  Australia, 
have  shewn  that  it  is  a  work  on  which  the  Lord  has  deigned  to  pour  a  blessing. 

There  are  some  principles  which  the  author  applied  himself  to  carry  out,  and  which  contributed  to 


PREFACE. 


imprint  a  special  cliaracter  upon  his  work :  he  uutloaA oureil  to  shew  forth   God  in  History — Christ  in 
the  Church — life  in  the  record  of  past  eiynts. 

History  nuist  Hve  by  tiiat  principle  of  life  whicli  is  j)roi)cr  to  it, — and  that  life  is  God.  He  must  be 
acknowledf^ed  and  proclaimed  in  history;  and  the  course  of  events  must  be  displayed  as  the  annals  of 
the  government  of  a  Supreme  Head. 

I  have,  says  the  author  in  beginning  his  work,  descended  into  the  lists  to  which  the  recitals  of 
our  historians  attracted  me.  I  have  there  seen  the  actions  of  men  and  of  nations  developing  themselves 
■with  power,  and  encountering  in  hostile  array ;  I  have  heard  a  strange  din  of  arms ;  but  nowhere  has 
my  attention  been  directed  to  the  majestic  aspect  of  the  arbiter  who  presides  over  the  struggle.  And 
yet  there  is  a  principle  of  movement  emanating  from  God  himself.  In  all  the  changes  amongst  nations, 
God  looks  upon  that  wide  stage  on  which  the  generations  of  men  successively  meet  and  strive.  He  is 
there,  it  is  true,  an  invisible  God;  but  if  the  profane  multitude  pass  without  noticing  Him,  because 
"  He  is  a  God  that  hideth  himself,"  thoughtful  men,  and  such  as  feel  their  need  of  the  Principle  of 
their  life,  seek  Him  with  the  more  earnestness,  and  are  not  satisfied  until  they  find  Him  and  throw 
themselves  prostrate  at  His  feet.  And  their  search  is  richly  rewarded ;  for — from  the  heights  to  which 
they  are  obliged  to  meet  their  God — the  world's  history,  instead  of  offering,  as  to  the  ignorant  crowd, 
a  confuseil  chaos,  appears  a  majestic  temple,  which  the  invisible  hand  of  God  erects,  and  which  rises 
to  His  glory  above  the  rock  of  luuuanity. 

Siiall  we  not  .icknowledge  the  hand  of  God  in  those  great  uien,  or  in  those  mighty  nations  which 
arise,  as  it  wore,  from  the  dust  of  the  earth,  and  give  a  new  impulse,  a  new  form,  or  a  new  destiny 
to  human  aff\iirs  I  Shall  we  not  acknowledge  His  hand  in  those  heroes  who  spring  up  among  men  at 
appointed  times;  who  display  activity  and  energy  beyond  the  ordinary  limits  of  human  strength,  and 
around  whom  individuals  and  riations  gather,  as  if  to  a  superior  and  mysterious  power?  Who  launched 
them  into  the  expanse  of  ages,  like  comits  of  vast  extent  and  llaming  trains,  appearing  at  long  intervals, 
to  scatter  among  the  superstitious  tribes  of  men  anticipations  of  plenty  and  joy,  or  of  calamity  and 
terror?  Who  but  God  himself?  Alexander  would  seek  his  own  origin  in  the  abodes  of  the  Divinity. 
And  in  the  most  irreligious  age  there  is  no  eminent  glory  but  such  as  is  seen  seeking  to  connect 
itself  with  the  idea  of  Divine  intei'position. 

If  God  is  sujn-cme  in  history,  Christ  is  supreme  in  the  Church.  Evangelical  faith  apjieals  to  the 
understanding,  to  the  heart,  and  to  the  will  of  every  Christian,  only  to  impose  on  him  the  duty  of 
submitting  to  the  Di\ine  authority  of  Christ;  of  listening,  believing,  loving,  comprehending,  and  acting 
as  God  requires. 

Evangelical  faith  does  not  place  on  the  throne  of  the  Church  the  civil  power,  or  the  secular 
magistrate;  but  it  sets  thereon  Jesus  Chiist,  who  has  said,  I  am  a  King;  who  imparts  to  His  subjects 
the  principle  of  life ;  who  establishes  Ilis  kuigdom  here  on  earth,  and  develops  it  until  the  time  come 
when  He  shall  exercise,  in  person.  His  Dinnc  authority. 

Evangelical  faith  does  not  place  on  the  throne  of  the  Church  priests,  councils,  doctors,  or  that  vice- 
God,  {i-eri  Dei  viceni  gerit  in  terris,  as  the  Romish  Church  has  it,)  that  infallible  pontiff",  who,  reviving 
the  errors  of  the  pagans,  ascribes  salvation  to  forms  of  worship,  and  to  meritorious  works  of  men.  It 
sets  thereon  Jesus  Christ,  the  great  high  priest  of  His  people — the  God-man,  who,  by  an  act  of  His  free 
love,  bore  in  our  stead,  in  His  atoning  sacrifice,  the  penalty  of  sin;— who  has  taken  away  the  cui-se  from 
our  heads,  and  thus  becomes  the  creator  of  a  new  race. 

"While  the  thoughts  of  great  numbers  are  led  astray  in  the  midst  of  ceremonies,  priests,  human 
lucubrations,  pontifical  fables,  philosophic  reveries,  and  are  driven  to  and  fro  in  the  desert  of  this  world, 
evangelical  faith  rises  even  to  heaven,  and  falls  prostrate  before  Him  who  sitteth  on  the  throne. 

The  Reformation  is  Jesus  Christ. 

Lord,  to  whom  shall  wc  go,  if  not  unto  Thee?  Let  others  follow  the  devices  of  their  imaginations, 
or  prostrate  themselves  before  traditional  superstitions,  or  kiss  the  feet  of  a  sinful  man.  O  King  of 
glory !  we  desire  but  Thee  alone. 

The  final  characteristic  which  the  author  wished  to  imprint  upon  his  History,  was  life  in  the  recital 
of  past  events.  The  historian  must  do  more  than  exhume  from  the  sepulchre,  in  which  they  are  sleeping, 
the  relics  of  men  and  things  of  times  past,  that  he  may  exhibit  them  in  the  light  of  day.     We  value 


PREFACE. 


highly  such  a  work,  and  those  who  perforai  it,  for  it  is  a  necessary  one;  and  yet  we  do  not  think  it 
sufficient.  Dry  bones  do  not  faithfully  represent  the  men  of  other  days.  They  did  not  live  as  skeletons, 
but  as  beings  full  of  life  and  activity.  The  historian  is  not  simply  a  resiuTectionist;  he  needs — strange 
but  necessary  ambition — a  power  that  can  restore  the  dead  to  life. 

The  author  firmly  believes  that,  if  a  history  should  have  truth,  it  should  also  have  hfe.  The  events 
of  past  times  did  not  resemble,  in  the  days  when  they  occurred,  those  grand  museums  of  Rome,  Naples, 
Paris,  and  London,  in  whose  galleries  we  behold  long  rows  of  marble  statues,  mummies,  and  tombs. 
There  were  then  living  beings  who  thought,  felt,  spoke,  acted,  and  struggled.  The  picture,  whatever 
history  may  be  able  to  do,  will  always  have  less  of  life  than  the  reality.  The  history  which  exhibits 
men  thinking,  feeling,  and  acting,  as  they  did  in  their  lifetime,  is  more  truthful  than  compositions  in 
which  the  actors  arc  deprived  of  speech,  and  even  of  life. 

The  Text  of  the  present  Edition,  undertaken  by  one  of  the  English  Publishers,  is  the  same  in  every 
respect  as  that  first  presented  to  the  British  Public,  with  this  important  addition,  that  the  principal  actors 
in  the  great  drama,  and  the  chief  scenes  rendered  famous  by  the  events  of  the  period,  have  been  brought 
more  vividly  under  the  eye  of  the  reader  by  the  skill  of  the  artist  and  engraver.  Labouchere's  well- 
known  and  beautiful  representations  of  the  leading  events  in  the  life  of  Luther,  will  form  an  appropriate 
and  interesting  accompaniment  to  the  narrative,  of  which  so  large  a  portion  is  taken  up  with  the  great 
Reformer.  The  importance  and  value  of  pictorial  illustrations,  especially  in  historical  writings,  is  sure 
to  render  this  Edition  both  interesting  and  attractive  to  all  classes  of  readers. 

May  the  Lord,  who,  thirty  years  ago,  blessed  the  "History  of  this  Reformation,"  be  pleased  now  to 
pour  a  new  blessing  on  the  work!  In  our  days  it  is  important  that  the  principles  of  the  Refoi-mation 
should  be  embraced  and  appreciated  by  believers,  and  that  they  should  be  professed  openly  and  coui'a- 
geously  in  the  world.  It  is  necessary  that  all  Christians  should  unite  around  the  Head  of  the  Church, 
look  unto  Jesus,  and  abide  in  Him. 

The  author  found  pleasure  in  telhng  the  story  of  the  acts  of  the  Reformers ;  but  he  must  say  with 
one  of  them,  John  Calvin:  ^^ Let  us  ascribe  honour  to  those  men  tvho  have  excelled  in  the  fear  of  God; 
but  on  condition  that  God  should  remain  above  all,  and  that  Christ  should  triumph," 


MERLE  D'AUBIGN^. 


Gexeva,  December,  1869. 


CONTENTS. 


BOOK    I. 

STATE   OF   MATTERS   BEFORE   THE   REFORJ[ATIOy. 


CHAPTER  I. 
Cliiislianily— Tito  dUtingiiisliiiig  Principles— Formation  of  the 
Pai>acy — First  Encivaclmionts— Iiillucnco  of  Rome— Co- 
operation of  Bishops  and  Factious— External  Unity  of  the 
CliurcU— Internal  Unity  of  the  Church  —  Primacy  of  St. 
Peter— Patriarchates— Cooperation  of  Princes — Inllnenco 
of  the  Barbarians — Rome  invokes  the  Franks — Secular 
Power- Pepin  and  Charlemagne— Tlie  Decretals — Disorderj 
of  Rome- Tlie  Emperor  the  Pope's  Liege  Lonl — Hildebrand 
—His  Character— Colilwicy — Struggle  with  the  Emperor — 
Emancipation  of  the  Pope — Hildebrand's  Successors— The 
Crusades— Tlie  Church— Corruption  of  Doctrine,         .        .      1 

CIIAI'TER  II. 
Ci-acc- Dead  Faith — Works— Unity  and  Duality— Pelagianism 
— Salvation  at  the  hands  of  Priests — Penances — Flagellations 
—  Indulgences — Works  of  Supererogation  —  Purgatory- 
Taxation— Jnbilee— Tlie  Papacy  and  Christianity— State  of 
Cliristendora, <i 

CHAPTER  III. 
Itcligiou — Relics — Easter  Merriment — Manners — Comiption — 
Disorderly  Lives  of  Priests,  Bishops,  and  Popes- A  Pricjit's 
Family— Education— Ignorance— Cicerouians,     ...      J) 

CHAPTER  IV. 
Imperishable  nature  of  Cliristianity — Two  Laws  of  God — Ap- 
parcnt  power  of  Rome— Hidden  Opposition— Decay-Three- 
fold Opposition — Kings  and  Subjects — The  Pope  judged  in 
Italy— Discoveries  by  Kings  and  Subjects— Frederick  the 
Wise— His  Moderation— His  Antioipatiou,  .        .        .        .12 

CHAPTER  V. 
Tlic  People— The  Empu-e— Providential  Preparations— Impulse 
of  the  Reformation— Peace— Middle  Classes— National  Char- 
acter-Yoke of  the  Pope— State  of  tlie  Empire— Opposition 
to  Rome— The  Burghers— Switzcriand— Valour— Liberty- 
Small  Cantons — Italy— Obstacles  to  Refonu— Spain— Ob- 
stacles— Portugal — France — Prjparations— Hopes  Deceived 
— Netherlands— England— Scotland — The  North — Russia — 
Poland— Bohemia— Hungarj', 14 


CHAPTER  Vr. 
Roman  Theology— Remains  of  Life — Justification  by  Faith— 
V/itncsses  for  the  Truth— Ckudc— Tlie  Mystics— Tlio  Vau- 
dois-Valdo- Wicklilfc—IIuss— Prediction— Protestantism 
beforetheRoformatiim— Anioldi—Utenhcim— Martin— Now 
Witnesses  in  the  Church— Thomas  Conccte— Tlie  Cardinal 
of  Crayn — Institoris— Savonarola — Justification  by  Faith — 
John  Vitraire— John  Laillier— John  of  Wessalia— John  of 
Goch — John  Wcssel — Protestantism  before  the  Reformation 
— Tlie  Bohemian  Brethren — Prophecy  of  Proles— Prophecy 
of  the  Franciscan  of  Eisenach— Tliird  Preparative— Litera- 
ture,     

CHAPTER  VIL 
Letters— Revival — Remembrance  of  Antiquity  in  Italy — In- 
fluence of  the  Humanists — Cliristianity  of  Dante— Valla — 
Infidelity  in  Italy— Platonic  Philosophy— Rise  of  Literature 
in  Germany— Youth  in  Schools — Printing — Cliaracter  of 
Genuan  Literature  —  Literati  and  Schoolmen — A  New 
World— Rcuchlin—Reuchlin  in  Italy— His  Works— His 
Influence  in  Gcnuany— Mystics— Struggle  with  the  Domini- 
CilUS, 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
Erasmus — Erasmus  a  Canon — At  Paris — His  Genius — His 
Reputation- His  Influence — Popular  Attack— Praise  of 
Folly— Tatters— Cliurch  People— Saints— Folly  and  the 
Popes — Attack  on  Science- Principle— Tlic  Greek  New 
Testament- His  Profession  of  Faith— His  Writings  and 
Influence— His  Failings — A  Reform  without  Shocks — Was 
it  po5isiblc— Tlic  Oiurch  without  Refonn— His  Timidity— 
His  Indecision— Erasmus  loses  himself  with  all  Parties, 


CHAPTER  IX. 
Tlie  Nobles— Different  Motives— Hiitten— Literary  League- 
Letters  of  some  Obscure  Men  — Their  Efl'cct  —  Luther's 
Opinion— Hiitten  at  Brussels — His  Letters — Seckingen — 
War— His  Death— Cronberg— Hans  Sachs— General  Fer- 
mentation,   


BOOK   II. 

rOUTIT,   CONVERSION,  AND  FIRST  LABOURS   OF  LUTHER — 1483-1517. 


CHAPTER  I. 
Luther's  Descent— His  Parents- His  Birth— Poverty- Tlie 
Patem.il  Roof— Strict  Discipline— First  Lcs.5ons— Tlie  School 
of  Magdeburg — Wretchedness— Eisenach— The  Shunamniite 
—The  House  of  Cotta— The  Arts— Remembrance  of  those 
Times—His  Studics—Tiebonius— Tlic  University,      .       .    3!> 


CHAI>TER  II. 
Scholasticism   and  the  Classics— Luther's  Piety— Discovery — 
The  Bible — Sickness— Master  oi  Aits— Conscience— Death 
of  Alexis— Tliundcrstorm— Providence— Adieus— Entrance 
into  a  Convent, 12 


viii                                                                                    CONTENTS. 

rAGE 

Pace 

CHAPTER  III. 

CHAPTER  VII. 

His  Father's  Anger— Pardon— Servile  Employments- ITie  Bag 

Retiu-n-Doctor's  Degree— Carlstadt-Luther's  Oath— Prmciple 

and  tlie  Cell-Coiirage-St.  Augnstiue-D'Ailly-Occam- 

of  Reform-Luther's  Courage-First  Views  of  Reformation 

Gerson-TIie  Bible-Hebrew  and  Greek— The  Hoiirs-As- 

-The  Schoolmen-Spalatin— Affair  of  Keucldin,         .        , 

53 

ceticism— Agony— Luther  during  Mass— Useless   Obser- 

vances—Luther  in  a  Faint, 45 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

CHAPTER  IV. 
Pious  Men  in  Cloisters— Staupitz— His  Piety— His  Visitation— 
Conversation— The  Grace  of  Clmst—Repentance— Power  of 
Sin— Sweetness  of  Repentance— Election— Providence— The 

Faitli-Popidar  Declamations-Academical  Instruction-Moral 

Purity  of  Luther— German  Tlieology,  or  Mysticism— The 
Monk  Spenlem— Justification  by  Faith— Luther  on  Erasmus 
—Faith    and   Works  —  Erasmus  —  Necessity   of  Works- 
Practice  of  Works,       

60 

Bible-The  Old  Monk— The  Remission  of  Sins-Consecra- 

tion Dinner-Tlie  Fete  Dieu-Call  to  Wittemberg,      .        .     48 

CHAPTER  IX. 

CHAPTER  V. 
The  University  of  Wittembcrg— Fii-st  ErapIojTuent- Bibli';al 
Lectures-Sensation-Preaching  at  Wittenibcrg-The  Old 

First  Theses-The  Old  Man  and  Grace— Visit  to  the  Convents— 

Dresden— Ei-fiui;—Toi-nator— Peace  and  the  Cross— Results 
of  the  Journey— Labours— The  Plague,        .... 

63 

Chapel-Impression, 52 

CHAPTER  X. 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Relations  of  Luther  with  the  Elector— Luther  and  the  Elector- 

Journey  to  Eome— A  Convent  on  the  P6— Siclcness  at  Bologna- 

Counsels  to  the  Chaplain— Didse  George— His  Character- 

Remembrances  in  Rome — Superstitious  Devotion — Profane- 

Luther  before  the  Court— Dinner  at  Court— Emser's  Supper, 

65 

ness  of  the  Clerg)-—Conversation— Disorders  in  Rome- 

Biblical  Studies-Pilate's  Stair— Influence  on  his  Faith  and 

CHAPTER  XI. 

on  the  Reformation— Tlie  Gate  of  Paradise— Luther's  Con- 

Return to  Wittembcrg— Tlieses-Nature  of  Man— Rationalism- 

fession,         54 

Demand  at  Erfiui;-Eck-Urban  Regius-Luther's  Modesty, 

67 

BOOI 

C      III. 

THE   LNDULGENCES   AND   THESES— 1517,  1518. 

CHAPTER  I. 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Cortege— Tetzel—Tetzel's  Discourse— Confession— Four  Graces 

Tetzel's  Attack-Luther's    Reply-Good  Works-Luther   and 

—Sale— Public  Penance- A  Letter  of  Indulgence- E.xcep- 

Spalatm— Study  of  Scripture— Scheurl  and  Luther— Doubts 

tions-Feasting  and  Debauchery, 70 

on  the  Theses— Luther  for  the  People— A  New  Suit,  . 

87 

CHAPTER  II. 

The  Franciscan  Confessor- Tlic  Soul  in  the  Bniying-Ground— 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

a-he  Shoemaker  of  Hagenau-The  Studeuts-Myconius- 

DisputationatFrankfort-Tetzel'sTheses— Menaces— Opposition 

Conversation  with  Tetzel- Stratagem  by  a  Gentleman- 

ofKuipstrow—Luther'sTheses  Burnt —The  Monks— Luther's 

Conversation  of  the  Wise  and  of  the  People— A  Miner  of 

Peace— Tetzel's  Theses  Bimit— Luther's  Vexation,      . 

89 

Schneebcrg, 73 

CHAPTER  III. 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Leo  X.— Necessities  of  the  Pope-Albert- His  Character- 

rrierio— System  of  Rome— The  Dialogue— System  of  Refonn 

Favoura  the  Indulgences— The  Franciscans  and  the  Domini- 

—Reply to  Prierio— Tlie  Word— The  Pope  and  the  Church 

cans,    75 

-Hochstraten-The  Monks-Luther  RepUes-Eck— Tlie 
School- The  Obelisks- Luther's  Scntimcnts-Tl.e  Asterisks 

CHAPTER  IV. 

—Rupture, 

P2 

Tetzcl  approaches— Luther  at  the  Confessional— Tetzel's  Rage- 

Luther  without    a   Plan- Jealousy  among   the  Orders- 

CHAPTER  X. 

Luther's  Discourse-The  Elector's  Dream,  ....     77 

Popular  Writmgs-Our  Father-Thy  ICingdom  Come— Thy  Will 

CHAPTER  V. 

be  Done- Our  Daily  Bread— Sermon  on  Repentance- For- 
giveness through  Christ, 

96 

Feast  of  All  Saints— Tlie  Theses— Their  Force— Moderation— 

Providence— Letter  to  Albert— Indifference  of  the  Bishops 

—DisseiKinatiou  of  the  Theses, 80 

CHAPTER  XI. 
Appvehousions  of  Luther's  Friends-Journey  to  Hcidlebcrg- 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Bibra-The   Palatine  Castle- Rupture-'Hie    Paradoxes- 

Reuchliu— Erasmus— Flek—Bibra— 111  e  Em  peror— Tlie  Pope— 

Dispute— Tlie  Hearers— Bucer— Brentz  —  Snepf  —  Conver- 

Myconius—Tlie  Monks — Apprehensions— Adelman— An  Old 

sations   with   Luther-Labours   of  the  Young  Doctors- 

Priest— The  Bishop— Tlie  Elector— The  Inhabitants  of  Erfnrt 

Effects  on  Luther-'Hie  Old  Professor-Tho  True  Light- 

—Luther's  Rcply-IYouble-Lutl.er's  Moving  Principle,     .    84 

Arrival,        

98 

.1 

CONTENTS.                                                                               ix 

BOOK    IV. 

LUTIIEU   nKFOKli   THE    LEUATE— MAY    TO    DECEMBER,    1518. 

Paci: 

Paoe 

CUAPTEU  I. 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Repenlancc— Tlic  Pope  -Uo  X.-Lutlier  to  liis  Bishop— Luther 

First  Appearance— First  Words- Conditions  of  Rome— Propo- 

to the  PoiKS-Lutlier  to  the  Vicar-General— Kovere  to  the 

sitions  to  Retract— Luther's  Reply— He  Withdraws—Im- 

Elector-Discourse   on    Exconinuiiii.ation— Influence    and 

pressions  on  both  sides- Anival  of  StaupiU,       .        .        .116 

Power  of  Luther, 102 

CHAPTER  VII. 

CILA.PTER  H. 

Commuuicition  to  the  Le-^-ate— Second  Appearance— Luther's 
Declaration- The  Legate's  Rc|ily— The  Jygate's  Volubility 
-Luther's  Request,     .        .       " 118 

Diet  at  Augsburg— The  Emperor  to  the  Pope— Tlio  Elector  to 

Kovore-Luther  Cited  to   Rome-Luther's   Peace-Inter- 

cession of  the  University— Papal  Brief- Luther's  Indignation 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

-Tlie  Pope  to  the  Elector, 105 

Tliiixl  Appearance— Treasury  of  Indulgences-Faitli— Humble 
Re.iuest-Legate'8  Reply-Luthcr's  Reply- Legate's  Rage- 

CHAPTER  III. 

Luther  Retires-First  Defection,        120 

The  Armourer  Schwarzenl-His  Wife— Philip-His  Genius-His 

Stu>Ues-The    Bible-Call    to    WittemU-rg-Mclancthon's 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Departure  and  Journey— Leipsic-Mistake-Luther's  Joy- 

Parallel-Revolution  in  Education-Study  of  Greek,  .        .  lOS 

— Lutlier  to  Carlstadt— Communion— Link  aud  De  Vio— 
Departure  of  Staupitz  and  Link-Luther  to  Cajetan-Tlie 
Canlinal's  Silence— Lutlicr's  Farewell— Departure— Appeal 

CHAPTER  IV. 

to  the  Pope, 121 

Sentiments  of  Luther  aud  St.iupitz— Onler  to  Appear— AKirins 

CHAPTER  X. 

Augsburg-Sojourn  at  Weimar-Nuremberg,       .        .        .110 

Luther's  Flight-Admiration-Luther's  Wish-The  Legate  to 
the   Elector— Elector    to    the    Legate— Prosperity  of   the 

CHAPTER  V. 

University, 125 

Anival  at  Augsburg-Do  Vio-HLs  Character-Serra-Longa- 

CHAPTER  XI. 

Preliminar)-  Conversation— Visit  of  the  Councillors— Return 

Tl.oughts  of  Dcpartm-e-Adieus  to  the  Cl.urch- Critical  Moment 

of  Serra-Louga-The  Prior-Luther's  Wisdom-Luther  and 

-  Deliverance— Luther's  Courage— Discontentment  at  Rome 

Scrra-Longa-Thc  Safe-Conduct-Luther  to  Melancthon,    .  113 

-Bull-Appeal  to  a  Council, 127 

BOO 

K     V. 

THE  DISCUSSION 

OF   LEirSir— 1519. 

CHAPTER  I. 

C'lIAI'TER  III. 

Luther's  Dangers— Go<l  saves  Luthcr-Tlie  Pope  sends  a  Clianlbcr- 

Aniv.il  of  Eck  and  the  Wiltembergers-Amsdorf-The  Students 

lain-'n.c  Legate's  Joumcy-Briefsof  Rome-Circumstances 

-Caristadt's  Accident-Placard-Eck  and  Luthcr-Pleis- 

favourable   to  the  Refonnation— Miltitz  with  Spalatin— 

scnburg-Shall  JudgesbeAppointcd?— Luther  Objects,      .  138 

Tetzcl's  Terror -Caresses  of  Miltitz— A  Recantation  De- 

manded-Luther  Refuses,  but  Ofl-ei-s  to  be  Silent -Agree- 

CHAPTER IV. 

ment  between  Luther  and  the  Nuncio-Tlic  Legate's  Embrace 

The  Procession-Mass-Mosellanus-  Veni,  Sancle  Spinlus/- 

— Tetzcl  overwhelnie<l  by  the  Legate— Luther  to  the  Pope  - 

PortraiU  of  Luther  and  Carlstadt-Doctor  Eck-Caristadf  s 

Nature  of  the  Reformation-Luther  against  Separation- 

Books— Merit  of  Congniity— Natural  Powers— Scholastic 

Dc  Vio  aud  Miltitz  at  TrCvcs-Luther's  cause  cxUnds  in 

Distinction-Point  where  Rome  and  the  Refonnation  separate 

different  Countries— Luther's  Writings  the  Commencement 

—Grace  gives  man  Freedom- CarlsUdfs  Note-Book— Com- 

of the  Reformation, 130 

motion  in  the  Auditorj-- Jlclancthon  during  the  Debate—            ' 
Mana=u>Tes    of   Eck-Luthcr    Preachcs-Tlic   Citizens  of 

CHAITER  n. 

Leipsic-Quarrels  of  StudenU  .and  Quarrels  of  Teachers,     .  1-39 

Tlic  Will  seems  ended  in  Germany- Eck  Revives  the  Contest- 

CHAPTER  V.                                               1 

Deb.itc  between  Eck  aud  Carlstadt-The  Question  of  the 

Hierarchy  and   Ration.ilism-lVo   Peasants'   Sons-Eck  and            1 

Pope-Luther  Replies-^UarraofLuther'sFriemU-Luther's 

Luther  Iwgin-Thc  Hea<l  of  the  amrch-Tlie  Primacy  of 

Courage -Truth  Triumphs  single-h.inded— Refus.il  of  Duke 

Rome— Equality  of  Bishops— Peter  the  Foundation- Christ 

George-Delight  of  Mosellanus,  and  Fears  of  Erasmus,       .  135 

the  Foundation— Eck  insinu.ites  that  Luther  is  a  Hussite— 

1 

X                                                                                  CONTENTS. 

Pace 

Page 

Luther  on  the  doctrine  of  Huss— Agitation  in  the  Audience 

CHAPTER  VII. 

—Pleasantry  of  Dr.   Eck— The  Word  alone— The  Court 
Fool— Luther  at  Mass-Saying  of  the  Duke— Purgatory- 
Close  of  the  Discussion,        113 

Eck  Attacks  Melancthon- Melauctlion's  Defence— Interpretation 
of  Scriptm-e-Luther's  Firmness— The  Bohemian  Brethren 
— Emser— Staupitz, 149 

I                                               CHAPTER  VI. 

Interest  felt  by  the  Laity— Luther's  Opmion— Admissions  and 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

j            Boastings  of  Dr.  Eck— Effects  of  the  Discussion— Poliander 

Epistle  to  the  Galatians— Christ  for  us— Blmdness  of  Luther's 

— Cellarius— The  Young  Prince  of  Anhalt- The  Students  of 

Adversaries— First  Ideas  on  the  Supper— Is  the  Sacra-             | 

Leipsic— Ci-uciger- Calling  of  Melancthon— Emancipation 

ment  Sufficient  without  Faith  ?-Luther  a  Bohemian -Eck             ! 

of  Luther, Ii7 

Attacked— Eck  sets  out  for  Rome, 150      ; 

BOOK     VI. 

THE   CULL   OF   KO.ME— 1520. 

CHAPTER  I. 

1 
CHAPTER  VII. 

Character  of  Maximili.an— The  Competitors  for  the  Empire— 

New  Negotiations— Miltitz  and  the  Augustines  of  Eisleben— 

Cliarles -Frauds    I. -Inclination    of    the    Germans -The 

Deputation  to  Luther— Miltitz  and  the  Elector— Conference 

Crown  offered  to  Frederick— Cliarles  is  Elected,  .        .        .  15.3 

at  Lichtemberg— Luther's  Letter  to  the  Pope— Book  Pre- 

sented to  the  Pope— Union  of  the  Believer  with  Christ- 

Freedom  and  Bondage, 166 

1                                                CHAPTER  II. 

Luther  Writes  to  the  Emperor— Luther's  Dangers— Instructions 

of  Frederick  to  the  Court  of  Rome-Luther's  Sentiments- 

CHAPTER  VIII.                                              j 

Melancthon's  Fears-The  German  Nobles  favourable  to  the 

The  Bull  ui  Gennany— Eck's  Reception— The  Bull  at  Wittem- 

Reformation-Schaumburg  -Seckingen-Ulric  de  Hutten- 

berg— Interposition  of  Zwingle, 169 

Luther's  Confidence-Luther's  gi-eatcr  Freedom— Faith  the 

1 

Source  of  Works-Wiat  Faith  gives- Luther  Judging  his 

own  Writings,              154 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Luther  Examines  himself  in  the  presence  of  God— Luther's 

Opinion  of  the  BuU-A  Neutral  Family-Luther  on  the  BuU,            j 

CHAPTER  III. 

and  against  the  Bull  of  Antichrist— The  Pope  Prohibits 

Tlie  Papacy  Attacked- Appeal  to  the  NobOity-Tl:e  Three  Walls 

Faith-Effocts  of  the  BuU-The  Faggot  Pile  of  Louvain,     .  171 

—All  Christians  are  Priests— The  Magistrate's  duty  to  Cor- 

rect the  Clergy— Abuses  of  Rome— Ruin  of  Italy— Dangers 

CHAPTER  X. 

of  Germany— The  Pope— The  Legates— Tlie  Monks— 'flie 

Marriage  of  Priests— Celibacy-Festivals- Tlie  Bohemians 

Decisive  Steps  by  the  Reformer— Luther's  Appeal  to  a  General 

—Charity- Tlie  Universities— Tlie  Empire- Tlie  Emperor 

Council— Struggle  at  Close  Quarters -The  Bull  Burned  by 

must   retake    Rome— A   Book  not   Published— Luther's 

Luther-Meaning  of  this  bold  act-Luther  iu  the  Academic 

Modesty- -Success  of  the  Adch-ess, 153 

Chau-- Luther  agamst  the  Pope— New  Work  by  Melancthon 

-How  Luther  encourages  his  Friends— Progi-ess  of  the 

Contest-Melancthon's  Opinion  of  the  Timid-Luther's  Work            ! 

CHAPTER  IV. 

on  the  Bible -Doctrine  of  Grace-Luther's  Recantation,      .  173 

Preparations  at  Rome-Motives  to  Resist  the  Papacy— Eck  at 

■ 

Rome-Eck  gains  the  Day-Tlie  Pope  is  the  World-God 

CHAPTER  XI. 

produces  tlie  Separation— A  Swiss  Priest  pleads  for  Lutlicr 

—The  Roman  Consistoiy— Preamble  of  tlie  Bull-Condem- 

Coronation of  Cliarles  V.-'Hie  Nuncio  Aleandcr-Will  Luther's 

nation  of  Luther, 161 

Books  be  Bimit— Aleaiider  and  the  Emperor— The  Nmicios 

and  the  Elector-The  Son  of  Duke  John  Pleads  for  Luther 

—Luther's  Calmness-Tlie  Elector  Protects  Luther-Reply 

CHAPTER  V. 

to  the  Nuncios— Er.asraus  at  Cologue— Erasmus  with  the 

j      Wittemberg-Melancthoii-HisMarriage-Citlierino- Domestic 

Elector— Declaration   of  Er.%smus— Advice   of  Er.ismus— 

Life-Beneficenco-Good  Humour— Clirist  and  Antiquity— 

System  of  Charles  V., 173 

L.abour-Love  of  Letters-His  Mother-Outbreak  among 

the  Students, 16i 

CHAPTER  XIL 

■ 

Lutlicr   ou    Confession— True    Absolution  —Antichrist— Rally 

,                                               CHAPTER  VI. 

•aroiuid  Luther-Sath-es-Ulrich  von  Hiitten-Lucas  Ci-a- 

Tlie  Gospel  in  Italy-Discourse  on  the  Ma^s-The  Babylonish 

nach-The  Carnival  at  Wittemberg-Staupitz  Intimidated 

Captivity  of  the  Church— Baptism— Abolition  of  Vows- 

-Luther's  Labours -Luther's  Humility-Progress  of  the             ! 

Progress  of  the  Reformation,       165 

Reformation,                179 

CONTENTS. 


BOOK    VII. 

THE   r>IET    OF   WOUMS— (.JANUARY   TO    MAY)    1021. 


OIAPTER  I. 

Conquests  by  Iho  Woi\l  of  Gixl— llio  Dii-t  of  VVonin— niftioiiUics 
—  Charles  Demaiiils  Luther— Tlio  Eliflorto  (nmrles-SUito 
of  Men's  Minds— AIe«ii<lor'«  Alnrni— The  Elcetur  sots  out 
without  Lutlier—Alennilcr  Awakens  Rome  -  Gxcouiinunica- 
tion  of  the  Pope,  ami  Communion  with  Christ—  Fulniination 
ofthoBuU-Lither's  Motives  in  the  Rcfornialion,      .        ,  182 

CHAPTER  II. 
A  Foreign  Prince —Ail vice  of  Politicians— Conference  between 
the  Confessor  anil  the  Elector's  Cliancellor— Uselcssnoss  of 
these  Mana-u\Te.s— Alcamlcr's  Activity— Lutlicr's  Sayings- 
Charles  gives  in  to  the  P.-jm', ISr. 

CIIAITER  III. 
I     Aleoudcr  Admitted  to  the  Diet— -Meander's  Adilrcss— Luther 
Accused— Rome  Defended— Appeal  to  Cliarles  against  Luther 
—Effect  of  the  Nuncio's  Address, 1S7 


CHAPTER  IV. 
Sentiments  of  the  Princes— Speech  of  Duke  George— Cliaracter 
of  the  Reformation — A  Hundred  and  One  Grievance.s — 
Charles   Yield*— Tactics   of   Aleander— The    Grandees    of 
Spain— Luther's  Peace — Death  and  not  Retractation,  .  ISO 

CHAPTER  V. 
Will  a  Safe-conduct  be  given ?— Safe-conduct — Will  Luther  go? 
—Holy  Thuisilay  at  Rome— Tlie  Pope  and  Luther,     .        .  191 

CHAPTER  VL 
Luther's  Courage— Bugenhagen  at  Witteniberg— Persecutions  in 
Pomerania — Melancthon  wishes  to  set  out  with  Luther— 
Amsdorff—Schnrff—Suaven-Hutten  to  Charles  v.,   .        .  193 

CHAPTER  VII. 
Departure  for  the  Diet  of  Worms— Luther's  Adieu  -His  Con- 
demnation Published— Cavalcade  near  Erfurt— Meeting  of 
Jonas  and  Luther— Luther  in  his  old  Convent— Luther 
Preaches  at  Erfurt — Incident— Faith  and  Works— Concourse 
of  People— Luther's  Courage— Luther  to  Spalatin— Halt  at 


Frankfort -Fears  at  Wnnns-PIan  of  the  Imperialists- 
Luther's  Firnmess, 195 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
Entry  into  Worms— tliant  for  the  Dead- Council  held  by  Cliarles 
v.— Capito  and  the  Temiiorizers— Concourse  around  Luther 
— CiUtion— Iliitten  to  Luther— Proceeds  to  the  Diet- 
Saying  of  Fi-eundsberg- Imposing  Assembly— Tlie  Cliancel- 
lor'g  Address— Luther's  Reply— His  Wimlom— Saying  of 
Charles  V.— Alarm— Triumph— Luther's  Finnuess — Insults 
from  the  Sp."»niards— Council — Luther's  Trouble  and  Prayer 
—Might  of  the  Reformation — Luther's  Oath  to  Scripture — 
Tlie  Court  of  the  Diet— Luther's  Address— Thr«e  kinds  of 
Writings— He  demands  Proof  of  his  EiTor— Solemn  Warnings 
—He  repeats  his  Adilress  in  Latin— Here  I  am  :  I  tin't  do 
otherwise— The  "Weakness"  of  God-New  Attempt,         .  198 

CHAPTER  I.\. 
Victory— Tumult  and  Calm— Duke  Brick's  Glass  of  Beer- Tlio 
Elector  and  Spalatin— Message  from  the  Emperor— Wish  to 
Violate  the  Safe-conduct — Strong  Opposition — Enthusiasm 
for  Luther— Voice  for  Conciliation— The  Elector's  Fear— 
Assemblage  at  Luther's  Lodging— Philip  of  Hesse,      .        .204 

CHAPTER  X. 
Conference  with  the  Archbishop  of  Treves— Wehe's  Advice  to 
Luther — Luther's  Replies — Private  Conversation — Visit  of 
Coclilojus — Supper  at  the  Archbishop's— Attempt  on  the 
Hotel  of  Rhodes— A  Council  Proposed— Last  Interview 
between  Luther  and  the  Archbishop— Visit  to  a  Sick  Friend 
—Luther  Ordenxl  to  quit  Worms, 207 

CHAPTER  XI. 
Luther's  Departure— Journey  from  Worms— Luther  to  Cranacli 
—Luther  to  Charles  V.— Luther  with  the  Abbot  of  Hirsch- 
feld— The  Curate  of  Eisenach — Several  Princes  Leave  the 
Diet— Charles  Signs  Luther's  Condemnation— The  Edict  of 
Worms— Luther  with  his  Parents— Luther  Attacked  and 
Carried  off— Tlie  Ways  of  God— Wart  burg— Luther  a 
Prisoner, 210 


BOOK  VIII. 


THE  SWISS— 1484  1522. 


CHAPTER  I. 
vcments  in  Switzerland— Source  of  the  Reformation— Demo- 
cratic Cliaracter— Foreign  Ser\ice  —Morality —The  Tocken- 
burg— An  Alpine  Hut— A  Pastoral  Family,         ,        .        .  21  r> 

CHAPTER  II. 
ling  Ulrich  at  Wesen— At  Bale- At  Berne— Tlie  Dominican 
Convent— Jctzer— 'file  Apparitions— Tlie  Pitssion  of  the 
Jjty  Brother— The  Imposture— Discover)-  and  Punishment 
-Zwingle  atVienna-At  Bale-ilusic  at  Bale-Witteml>ach 
Teaches  the  Gospel— Leon  Juda— The  Curate  of  Glaris,      .  217 


CHAPTER  in. 
Love  of  War— Schinner— Pension  from  the  Pope— The  LabjTinth 
—Zwingle   in    Italy— Principle   of    Reform- Zwingle    and 
Luther — Zwingle  and  Erasmus— Zwingle  and  the  Elders- 
Paris  and  Glaris, ; 


CHAPTER  IV. 

vingic  in  regari  to  Er.ismus— Oswahl  Myconius— The  Vagrants 

—  CEcolampadius  — Zwingle    at    Marignan  —  Zwingle    and 

Italy— Method  of  Zwingle— Ooromencement  of  Reform— 


CHAPTER  V. 
Meinrad  of  HohenzoUern— Our  Laily  of  Eicisidluii— Calling  of 
Zwmgle— The  Abbot — GeroMsek — Companionship  in  Study 
—The  Bible  Copied— Zwingle  and  Superstition— First 
Opposition  to  Error— Sensation— Hedio— Zwingle  and  the 
Legates — The  Honours  of  Rome— The  Bishop  of  Constance 
-Samson  and  Indulgences— Stapfer—Cliarity  of  Zwingle— 
His  Friends, 2-2-1 

CHAPTER  VI. 
Zurich— The  College  of  Canons— Election  to  the  Cathedral- 
Fable — Accusations— Confession  of  Zwingle— The  Designs 
of  God  Unfolded — Farewell  to  Einsidlen — Arrival  at  Zurich 
— Courageous  Declaration  of  Zwingle — First  Sermons  — 
Effects— Opposition  -Character  of  Zwingle— Taste  for  Music 
— An-angement  of  the  Day— Circulation  liy  Hawkers,  .  223 

CHAPTER  VII. 
Indulgences — Samson  at  Berne- Samson  at  Baden— The  Dean  of 
Bremgarten — Young   Henry  Bullinger — Samson  and  the 
Dean — Internal    Struggles    of   Zwingle— Zwingle   against 
Indulgences— Samson  Dismissed,         .        .        .        .,        .  'i32 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
The  Labours  of  Zwingle— The  Baths  of  Pfeffers— God's  Time— 
The  Great  Death — Zwingle  seized  with  the  Plague — His 
Enemies— His  Friends-Convalescence— General  Joy— Effect 
of  the  Plague— Myconius  at  Lucerne— Oswald  encourage? 
Zwingle— Zwingle  at  Bale— Capito  Called  to  Mentz— Hedio 
at  Bale — An  Unnatural  Son — Preparation  for  Battle,  .  2"! 

CHAPTER  IX. 
The  Two  Reformers— The  Fall  of  Man— Expiation  of  the  God- 
Man— No  Merit  in  Works— Objections  Refuted— Power  of 
Love  to  Christ— Election— Clirist  alone  Master— Effects  of 
this  Preaching— Despondency  and  Courage— First  Act  of  the 
Magistrate— Church  and  State— Attacks— Galster,      .        .  2-38 


Page 
CHAPTER  X. 
A  New  Combatant— The  Reformer  of  Berae— Zwingle  Encourages 
Haller— The  Gospel  at  Lucerne- Oswald  Persecuted— 
Preaching  of  Zwingle  —  Henry  Bullinger  and  Ceroid  of 
Knonau— Rubli  at  Bale— The  Chaplain  of  the  Hospital- 
War  in  Italy— Zwingle  against  Foreign  Service,  .        .  211 

CHAPTER  XI. 

Zwingle  against  the  Precepts  of  Man— Fermentation  during  Lent 
— Ti'uth  Advances  during  Combat — The  Deputies  of  the 
Bishops — Accusation  before  the  Clergy  and  Council — ^Appeal 
to  the  Great  Coiuicil — The  Coadjutor  and  Zwingle — Decree 
of  the  Grand  Council  — State  of  Matters— Attack  by 
Hoffman, 243 

CHAPTER  XII. 
Grief  and  Joy  in  Germany— Ambush  against  Zwingle— Mandate 
of  the  Bishop — Archeteles — Tlie  Bishop  Addresses  the  Diet 
—Prohibition  to  Attack  the  Monks— Declaration  of  Zwingle 
—The  Nuns  of  fEtenbaeh— Zwmgle's  Address  to  Schwitz,  .  246 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
A  French  Monk — He  Teaches  in  Switzerland— Dispute  between 
the  Monk  and  Zwingle— Discourse  of  the  Leader  of  the 
Johaunites— Tlie  Carnival  at  Berne— The  Eaters  of  the 
Dead— Tlie  Skull  of  St.  Anne— Appenzel- Tlie  Orisons- 
Murder  and  Adultery— Marriage  of  Zwingle,        .        .        .243 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
How  Truth  Triumphs— Society  at  Einsidlen — Request  to  the 
Bishops  —  To  the  Confederates  —  The  Men  of  EiusitUeu 
Separate — A  Scene  in  a  Convent— A  Dinner  by  Myconius— 
The  Strength  of  the  Reformers— Effect  of  the  Petitions  to 
Lucerne — The  Council  of  the  Diet— Haller  at  the  Town- 
House— Friburg— Destitution  of  Oswald— Zwingle  Comforts 
him— Oswald  quits  Lucerne— First  Severity  of  the  Diet - 
Consternation  of  the  Brothers  of  Zwingle— His  Resolution 
—The  Future— Tlie  Prayer  of  Zwingle,        .        .  251 


BOOK    IX. 


FIRST   REFORMS— 1521-1522. 


CHAPTER  L 

f  the  Reformation— New  Period— Advantages  of 
Luther's  Captivity — Agitation  of  Germany — Melancthon 
and  Luther— Enthusiasm,  257 

CHAPTER  II. 
Luther  in  the  Wartburg— Object  of  his  Captivity— Agonies- 
Sickness— Labour  of  Luther— On  Confession— To  Latomus 
—Walks, 259 

CHAPTER  III. 
The  Reformation  Begins — Maniage  of  Feldkirchen — Marriage  of 
Monks— Tlieses— Writes  against  Monachism— Luther  Ceases 
to  be  a  Monk, 201 

CHAPTER  IV. 
Archbishop  Albeit— The  Idol  of  Halle— Luther  Appears— TeiTor 
at  the  Court— Luther  to  the  Archbishop— Tlie  Archbishop's 
Reply- Joachim  of  Brandenburg,        .....  263 


CHAPTER  V. 
Translation  of  the  EiWe— Wants  of  the  Cliurch— Principles  of 
the  Reformation— Alarm  at  Court— Luther  to  the  Arch- 
bishop-Temptations of  the  Devil — Condemnation  of  the 
Sorbonne— Melancthon's  Replj' — Visit  to  Witteniberg,        .  265 

CHAPTER  VI. 

New  Reforms— Gabriel  Zwilling  on  the  Mass— The  University- 
The  Elector— Monachism  Attacked— Emancip.ation  of  the 
Monks— Disturbances— Chapter  of  the  Augustines— The 
Mass  and  Carlstadt— First  Supper— Importance  of  the  Mass 
in  the  Roman  System, 267 

CHAPTER  VII. 
Spurious  Reform— The  New  Propliets-Tlie  Prophets  at  Wittem- 
beig — Melancthon — The  Elector— Luther,  Carlstadt,   and 
Images — Disorders — Luther  Sent  for— He  Hesitates  not — 
Dangers, 271 


CONTENTS. 


ClIArTER  VIII. 
Departure  from  tho  Wortburg— New  Position— Lutlior  niul 
Primitivu  Catholicism— Meeting  at  the  Blark  Boar— Liitber 
to  the  Elector— Return  to  Wittcinlwrg  —  Discourses  at 
Wittcmbcrg— Charity- The  Won!- How  the  Uofonnation 
was  Effoctcil— Faith  in  Christ— EfTect-Diilyinus-Carktmlt 
— ^Tho  Projihets- ConfiTCiu'p  witli  LutliiT— Kml  of  the 
Struggle, 274 

CHAPTER  IX. 
Translation  of  tho  New  Tivstanicut -Kaitli  ami  Scripture  — 
Opposition— Importance  of  Luther's  Publication — Need  of 
a  Systematic  Exposition- Melancthon's  "Common  Places" 
-Original  Sin— .Salvation— Free-will— Effect  of  the  "Com- 
mon Places," •   .       .       .250 


CHAITEU  X. 
Opposition  — llciiry  VIII.  — Wi.Uiy  — The  Queen  —  Fishor— 
Thomas  More  — Luther's  Books  Burnt- Henry  Attacks 
Luther— Presentation  to  tho  Pope-Effect  on  Luthcr-Forco 
anil  Violence— His  Book-Reply  of  the  Bi-hop  of  Rochester 
-Reply  by  More— Step  by  the  King ; 

CHAPTER  XI. 
flcnoral  Movement— Tlio  Monks— How  the  Reformation  Is  Acoom- 
l>lishctl— Onlinary  Believers— The  Old  ancl  the  New  Teachers 
—Printing  ami  Literature  -Booksellers  ami  Hawkers,         .  | 

CHAPTER  XU. 
Luther  at  Zwickau-Tlic  Castle  of  Freyljcrg— Worms- Frankfort 
—Universal  Movement —Wittcmlxjrg,  the  Centre  of  tho 
Reformation— Luther's  Stiitimonts, | 


BOOK     X. 


AOITATIOX,    RF.VER^F.>i,   AND   PROGRESS— 1523  1526. 


^  CHAPTER  I. 
Political  Element— Want  of  Enthusiasm  at  Rome— Slejo  of 
Pampeluna— Courage    of   Inigo— Transformation- Liillier 
and  Loyola— Visions— The  Two  Principles,         .        .        .292 


CHAPTER  II. 
Victory  of  the  Pope— Death  of  Leo  X.— Oratory  of  Divii 
—Adrian  VI.— Schemes  of  Refonn— Opposition, 


CHAPTER  in. 
Diet  of  Nurcml)crg-Invasion  of  Solj-man— The  Nuncio  Demands 
the  Death  of  Luthei^Thc  Preachers  of  Nuremberg— Promise 
of  Reform— Nation.al  Orievancos — Decree  of  the  Diet- 
Thundering  Letter  of  the  Pope— Luther's  Advice,       .        .  298 

CHAPTER  IV. 
Persecution- EITort-s  of  Duke  Geoi-ge- Tlie  Convent  of  Antwerp 
— MUtenberg- Tlio  Tliroe  Monks  of  Antwerp— Tlie  Scaffold 
—Martynlom  at  Brussels, 299 

CHAPTER  V. 
New  Pope — Tlie  Legate  Campeggio— Diet  of  Nuremberg — 
Demand  of  tho  Legate— Reply  of  the  Diet — Project  of  a 
Secular  Council— Alarm  and  Efforts  of  the  Pope— Rivaria— 
League  of  RatislKin— Rigour  and  Reform— Political  Schisms 
—  Opposition  —  Intrigues  of  Rome- Edict  of  Bruges  — 
Rupture, 301 

CHAITKK  VI. 
Persecution  — Gaspattl    Tauber  — A    Bookseller— Cruelties  in 
Wurtemberg,  Solzlxiurg,   Bavaria,   Pomerania  —  Henry  of 
Zuphten, 304 

CHAPl'ER  VII. 
Divisions— Lord's  Supper— Two  Extremes— Carlstadt— Luther 
—Mysticism  of  the  Anabaptists— Carlstadt  at  Orlamund— 
Mission  of  Luther— Interview  at  Dinner— Conference  of 
Orlamund— Carlstadt  Banished, 306 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Progrcs5— Resistance  to  the  Leaguers- Meeting  between  Philip 
of  Hesse  and  Melancthon— The  Landgrave  Gained  over  to 
the  Gospel— The  Palatinate,  Luneburg,  Holstein— Tlie 
Grand  Master  at  Wittemberg, 803 

CHAPTER  IX. 
Reformers— Tlie  Church  of  All-Saints— Fall  of  the  Mass  — 
Literature— Cliristian  Schools— Science  Offered  to  the  I.aity 
—Arts— Moral    Religion— Esthetical    Religion  —  Music — 
Poetry— Painting, 310 

CHAPTER  X. 
Political  Ferment — Luther  against  Revolution- Tliomas  Miinzcr 
—Agitation— Tlie  Black  Forest— The  Twelve  Articles- 
Luther's  Advice— Helfenstein— Advance  of  the  Peasants- 
Advance  of  the  Impcri,->1  Army — Defeat  of  the  Peasants — 
Cnielty  of  the  Princes, 313 

CHAPTER  XL 
Miinzcr  at  Mulhausen— Appeal  to  the  People— March  of  the 
Princes— End  of  the  Revolt— Influence  of  the  Reformers- 
Sufferings — Change, 317 

CHAPTER  XII. 
Two  Issues— Death  of  Frederick — Tlie  Prince  .ind  the  Rc.'ormer 
—Catholic  Alliance— Projects  of  Cliarlcs— Dangers,    .       .319 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
Tlie  Nuns  of  Nimptsch— Luther's  Feelings— End  of  the  Convent 
— Luther's  Marriage— Domestic  Happiness,         ,        ,        .  321 

CHAPTER  Xn'. 

Tlio  Landgrave-Tlic  Elector-Prussia— Reformation— Seculariza- 
tion—Tho  Archbishop  of  Mentz— Conference  of  Friedcwalt 
— Diet— Alliance  of  Torgau— Resistance  of  the  Reformers — 
Alliance  of  Magdeburg— The  Catholics  Redouble  their 
Efforts— Marriage  of  the  Emperor— Threatening  Letters— 
The  Two  Parties, 323 


x!v                                                                                CONTENTS. 

1 
BOOK    XI. 

DIVISION,  SWITZERLAND,  GERMANY— 1523-1527. 

Page 
■  CHAPTER  I. 

Paoe 
Convent-He  Returns  to  Seckingen- Returns  to  B.ale- 

Unity  in  Diversity— rrimitive  Faith  and  Liberty— Formation  of 

Ulrich  Von  Hiitten— His  Projects— Last  Effort  of  Cliivaliy 
— Hiitten  Dies  at  Ufl'nau, siO 

Roman  Unity— A  Monk  and  Leo  Jnda-Tlieses  of  Zwingle 

—Tlie  Discussion  of  January, 32G 

CHAPTER  IX. 

CHAPTER  II. 

Erasmus  and  Luther-Uncertainty  of  Erasmus    Luther  to  Eras- 

Caresses of  the  Pope— Progi-ess  of  the  Refonnation— The  Image 

mus—Work  of  Erasmus  against  Lutlier  on  Free  Will— Tlu-ee 

of  Stadelhofen— Sacrilege— The  Ornaments  of  the  Saints,    .  32S 

Opinions— Effect  on  Luther— Luther  ou  Free  Will— The 

Jansenists  and  the  Reformers— Homage  to  Erasmus— Rage 

CHAPTER  III. 

of  Erasmus-  -Tlie  Tliree  Days, 342 

Tlie  October  Discussion-Zwingle  on  the  Chmch-The  Cliuroh  - 

First  Outline  of  Preshyterianism-Discussion  on  the  Mass— 

CHAPTER  X. 

Enthusiasts— A  Voice  of  Wisdom— Victory— A  Character- 

The Three  Adversaries— Source  of  the  Truth -Anabaptism- 
An.abaptism  and  Zwingle— Constitution  of  the  Chm-ch— 

istic  of  the  Swiss  Reformation— Moderation— Oswald  My- 

conius  at  Zurich— Tlie  Revival  of  Letters— Thomas  Plater 

Prison— The  Prophet  Blaurock— Anabaptism  at  St.  Gall— 

oftheValais, 329 

An  Anabaptist  Family-Dispute  at  Zurich-The  Limits  of 

the  Reformation-Punishment  of  the  Anabaptists,      .        .  3iG 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Diet  of  Lucerne-Hottinger  Aj-rested- His  Death— Dejiutation 

CHAPTER  XI. 
Popish  Immobility— Pi-otestaut  Progression— Zwingle  andLutlier 
-Zwingle  and  the  Lord's  Supper-Luther's  great  Principle 

of  the  Diet  to  Zurich-Abolition  of  Processions-Abolition 
of  Images— The  Two  Reformations— Appeal  to  the  People,   331 

CHAPTER  V. 

— Carlstadt's  Writings  Prohibited— Zwingle's  Commentary 

—The  Swabian  Syngi-ara- Capito  and  Bucer— Need  of  Unity 

New  Opposition— CExlin  carried  off— Tlie  Family  of  the  Wii-ths 

in  Diversity,       " '.343 

—The  Mob  at  the  Convent  of  Ittingen— The  Diet  of  Zug— 

The  Wirths  seized  and  given  up  to  the  Diet  -Condemnation,  334 

CHAPTER  XIL 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Tlie  Tockenburg-An  Assembly  of  the  People-Reformatiou- 

Alwlition  of  the  Mass-Zwingle's  Dream-Celebration  of  the 
Lord's  Supper— Brotherly  Charity— Original  Sin— The  Oli- 

The Grisons— Discussion  of  Ilantz— Results -Reform  at 
Zurich, 351 

garchs  against  the  Reformation— Divers  Attacks,        .        .  336 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Executions— Discussion  at  Baden— Rules  of  the  Discussion- 

Eerne-The  Provost  of  Watteville-First  Successes  of  the  Re- 

Riches and  Poverty-Eck  and  (Ecolampadius-Discussiou- 

formation— Haller  at  the  Convent— Accusation  and  Deliver- 

Part taken  by  Zwingle-Boasting  of  the  Romans-Insults 

ance—The  Monastery  of  Konigsfeld— Margaret  of  Watteville 

of  a  Monk— End  of  the  Discussion, 3.-;3 

to  Zwingle— The  Convent  Open— Two  Opposite  Champions 

-Clara  May  and  the  Provost  of  Watteville,        .        .        .338 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

Consequences  at  Bale,  Benie,  St.  Gall,  and  other  Places-Diet 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

at  Zurich— Tlie  Small  Cantons— Menace-s  .at  Borne -Foreign 

Eale-CEcolampadius- Ho  goes  to  Augsburg— He  Enters  the 

Aid, 355 

BOOK 

:  XII. 

THE   FRENCI 

1—1500-1526.                                                                                 i 

CHAPTER  I. 

Lefevre  and  Farcl  meet— Doubts  and  Inquiries  of  Farel— 

Universality  of  Cliristianity— Enemies  of  the  Reformation  in 

First  Awakening- Prophecy  of  LefevTe-He  Teaches  Justi- 

France—Heresy  and  Persecution  in  Dauphiny— A  Gentle- 

fication by  Faith-Objections— Irregularities  in  Colleges— 

man's  Family— Tlie  Family  Farel— Pilgrimage  to  St.  Croix 

Effects  on  Farel— Election— Holiness  of  Life,       .        .        .  3.' J 

—Immorality  and  Superstition— William  desires  to  become 

a  Student,            3.w 

CHAPTER  III. 

Farel  .and  the  Saints— The  University— Conversion  of  Farel— 

CHAPTER  II. 

Parol  and  Luther-Other  Disciples— Date  of  the  Reformation 

Louis  XII.  and  the  Assembly  of  Tours-Francis  and  Margaret 

in  Franee-The  Different  Reforms  Spontaneous— Which  is 

—The  Literati-Lefevre-His  Teaching  at  the  Univer.sity- 

the  First  ?-PIace  Due  to  Lefevre, 3G3 

Paoc 

CHAPTER  rv. 

Clinractcr  of  Francis  I.— Beginning  of  .Modern  Timos— Liberty 
anil  Obedience— Margaret  of  Valois— Tlic  Court—  Brioonnct, 
Count  of  Moutbruu— Lcfovro  Applies  to  tho  Bible— Francis 
I.  and  Ilia  "Sous"— TIio  Gospel  brought  to  Margaret— A 
CoDVcrsiou — Adoration— Character  of  Margaret,         .       .  3C5 

C1IA1>TER  V. 
Enemies  of  the  Reformation— Louisa— Duprat—Coucoi\lat  at 
Bologna— Opposition  of  the  Parliament  and  tho  University 
—The  Sorbonno— Beda— Uis  Character— His  Tyranny— 
Bcrquin,  tho  most  Learned  of  the  Nobles— Tho  lAiadors  of 
tho  Surboune — Heresy  of  the  Three  Magdalenes —Luther 
Condemned  at  Paris— Tlie  Sorbonne  Addresses  tho  King— 
Lefcvro  quita  Paris  for  Meaux, 3CS 

CHAPTER  VL 
Briconnet  Visits  his   Diocese— Reformation— The   Reformers 
Prosecuted  at  Paris- Phililwrta  of  Savoy— Correspondence 
of  Margaret  and  Briconnet,  .        ,        ,        .        .        ,  S71 

CIIArTER  VII. 
First  Beginnings  of  the  Church  of  Meau.x— Tlio  Scriptures  in 
French- The  Tradesmen  and  the  Bishop  —  Evangelical 
Harvest— The  Epistles  of  St.  Paul  sent  to  tho  King— Lofevre 
and  Roma— The  Monks  before  the  Bishop— Tlie  Monks 
before  the  Parliament — Briconnet  Yields,  ,       .        .  374 

CHAPTER  Vlir. 
Lcfevre  and  Farel  Persecuted- Difference  between  the  Lutheran 
and  Reformed  Churches— Leclerc  puts  up  his  Pancartes— 
Leclerc  Branded  —  Ze.il  of  Borquin — Berquin  before  the 
Parliament— Francis  I.  saves  him — Apostacy  of  Mazurier- 
Fall  and  Grief  of  Pavanno—Metz—Chatclain— Peter  Tous- 
snint  becomes  Attentive — Leclerc  breaks  Images — Con- 
demnation and  Tortnre  of  Loclcic— Martynlom  of  Chatelnin 
— Flight, .        .        .377 

CHAPTER  IX. 
Farol  and  his  Brothers — Farcl  driven  from  Gap— He  Preaches  in 
the  Fields-Chevalier  Anemond  of  Coct— Tlie  Minorite— 
Anemond  quits  France— Luther  to  the  Duke  of  Savoy— 
Farel  quits  France, 381 


Paoi 
CHAPTER  X. 

Catholicity  of  the  Reformation  —  Fricmlshlp  of  Farel  and 
Oicolampadius- Farel  and  Erasmus- Altercation— Farel 
calls  for  a  Discussion-Tliescs- Scripture  and  Faith  — 
Discussion, 333 

CHAPTER  XI. 

New  Campaign— Calling  of  Farol  to  the  Ministrj' — An  Advanced 
Post— Lyons  an  Evangelical  Focus— Sebville  at  Grenoble- 
Conventicles  —  Preaching  at  Lyons  —  Maigret  in  Prison — 
Margaret  Intimidated, 33<] 

CHAPTER  XU. 
Tho  French  at  Bile- Encouragement  of  tho  Swiss— Fear  of  Dis- 
union-Translations and  Printing  Presses  at  Bale— Bibles 
anil  Tracts  Circulated  in  France, 3S9 


CHAPTER  XIII. 
Progress  at  Montbeliard— Opposition  and  Disturbance— Touis- 
saint  quits  CEcolampadius — The  Day  of  tho  Briilge— Death 
of  Anemond— Si 


CHAPTER  XIV. 
Francis  taken  at  Pavia — Reaction  against  the  Reformation- 
Louisa  consults  tho  Sorbonne— Commission  against  the 
Heretics— Briconnet  Denounced— Appeal  to  the  .\ssembled 
Parliament- Fall — Reconciliation— Lefevre  Accused — Con- 
demnation and  Flight — Lefevro  at  Stnisburg— Louis  de 
Berquin  Incarcerated— Erasmus  Attacked— Schuch  at  Nantz 
— His  Martyrdom — Contest  with  Caroli — Sadness  of  Pavanne 
—His  Fagot  Pile— A  Christian  Hcnnit— Concourse  at 
Notre  Dame, 

CHAPTER  XV. 
A  Scholar  of  Noyon — Cliaracter  of  Young  Calvin — Early  Educa- 
tion— He  is  devoted  to  Theology — Tlie  Bishop  gives  him  the 
Tonsure- He  quits  Noyon  because  of  the  Plague— The  Re- 
formation creates  new  Languages— Persecution  and  Terror— 
Toussaint  put  into  Prison — Persecution  gives  new  strength 
—Death  of  Du  Blet,  Meriin,  and  Papillon— God  saves  the 
Church— Project  of  Margaret— Departure  for  Spain,   .        .  • 


BOOK   XIII. 


THE  PROTEST   AND   THE  CONFERENCE— 1526-1529. 


CHAPTER  I. 
Twofold  Movement  of  Reform — Reform  the  Work  of  God— First 
Diet  of  Spires— Palladium  of  Reform — Firmness  of  the 
Reformers— Proceedings  of  the  Diet — Report  of  the  Com- 
missioners—Tlie  Papacy  Painted  and  Described  by  Luther 
— The  Destruction  of  Jerusalem — Instructions  of  Seville- 
Change  of  Policy— Holy  League— Religious  Liberty  Proposed 
— Crisis  of  the  Reformation, 403 

CHAPTER  II. 
Italian  War— The  Emperor's  JIanifesto— March  on  Rome— Revolt 
of  the  Troops — Tlio  Sack  of  Rome— German  Humours — 
Violence  of  the  Spaniards- Clement  VII.  Capitulates,        .  411 

CHAPTER  III. 
Profitable  Calm— Constitution  of  the  Cluirch— Philip  of  Hesse— 


Tlie  Monk  of  Marburg— Lambert's  Paradoxes — Friar  Boni- 
face-Disputation at  Hfimburg— Triumph  of  the  Gospel  in 
Hesse — Constitution  of  the  Cliurch — Bishops — Synods- 
Two  Elements  of  the  Church— Luther  on  the  Ministry- 
Organization  of  the  Cliurch— Luther's  Contradictions  on 
St.ite  Interference— Luther  to  the  Elector— German  Mass— 
Mclancthou's  Instructions— Disaffection — Visitation  of  the 
Reformed  Churches — Results— Tlie  Reformation  Advances 
—Elizabeth  of  Brandenburg, 413 

CHAPTER  IV. 
Edict  of  Ofen— Persecutions — Winkler,  Carpenter,  and  Keyser 
-Alarm  in  Germany  —  Pack's  Forgery  —  League  of  the 
Reformed  Princes  —  Advice  of  tho  Rcformera  —  Luther's 
Pacific  Counsel— Surprise  of  tho  Papist  Princes— Pack's 
Scheme  not  Improbable— Vigour  of  the  Reformation,         .  419 


CHAPTER  V. 

Alliance  between  Charles  and  Clement  VII.— Omens— Hostility 

ofthePapists—Arbitraiy  Proposition  of  Charles— Resolutions 

of  the  Diet— The  Refonuation  in  Danger— Decision  of  the 

Princes — Violence  of  Ferdinand — Tlie  Sdiism  Completed,   .  • 

CHAPTER  VI. 

The  Protest— Pi-inciples  of  the  Protest— Supremacy  of  the  Gospel 
-Christian  Union— Ferdinand  Rejects  the  Protest— Attempt 
at  Conciliation— Exrdtation  of  the  Papists— Evangelical 
Appeal— Christian  Unity  a  Reality— Dangers  of  the  Pi'o- 
testants— The  Protestants  leave  Spires— Tlie  Princes  the 
Ti-ue  Reformers— Germany  and  Reform, 

CHAPTER  VII. 
Union  necessary  to  Reform— Luther's  Doctrine  on  the  Lord's 
Supper— A  Lutheran  Warning— Proposed  Conference   at 
Marburg— Melancthon  and  Zwingle— Zwingle  leaves  Zurich 


— Rumoiu-s  in  Zurich— The  Reformers  at  Marburg— Carl- 
stadt's  Petition — Preliminary  Discussions — Holy  Ghost- 
Original  Sin— Baptism— Luther,  Melancthon,  and  Zwingle 
—Opening  of  the  Conference— The  Prayer  of  the  Church — 
Hoc  est  Corpus  J/eitni- Syllogism  of  (Ecolampadius — The 
Flesh  profiteth  nothing — Lambert  Convinced — Luther's  Old 
Song— Agitation  in  the  Conference— An-ival  of  New  Deputies 
— Chiist's  Humanity  Finite— Mathematics  and  Poetry- 
Testimony  of  the  Fathers — Testimony  of  Augustine — 
Argument  of  the  Velvet  Cover— End  of  the  Conference— 
The  Landgrave  Mediates — Necessity  of  Union — Luther 
rejects  Zwingle's  Hand— Sectarian  Spii-it  of  the  Germans— 
Bucer's  Dilemma — Christian  Charity  prevails — Luther's 
Report — Unity  of  Doctrine — Unity  in  Diversity— Signatm-es 
— Two  Extremes— Thi-ee  Views— Germ  of  Popery— Departure 
—Luther's  Dejection— Turks  before  Vienna— Luther's  Battle 
Sermon  and  Agony — Luther's  Firmness — Victory— Exas- 
peration of  the  Papists— Threatening  Prospects,         ,       .  429 


BOOK    XIV. 

THE  AUGSBURG   CONFESSION— 1530. 


CHAPTER  I. 
Two  Striking  Lessons— Charles  V.  in  Italy — The  German  Envoys 
— Their  Boldness — The  Landgrave's  Present— The  Envoys 
under  Arrest— Their  Release  and  Departure— Meeting  of 
Charles  and  Clement — Gattinara's  Proposition— Clement's 
Ai-ms-War  Imminent — Luther's  Objections— The  Savio\ir's 
Coming— Charles's  Conciliatory  Language— The  Emperor'.s 
Motives, 440 

CHAPTER  II. 
Tlie  Coronation— The  Emperor  made  a  Deacon— The  Romish 
Church  and  the  State— Alarm  of  the  Protestants— Luther 
Advocates  Passive  Resistance  —  Brack's  Noble  Advice  — 
Ai-ticles  of  Faith  Prepared— Luther's  Strong  Tower- Luther 
at  Coburg — Charles  at  Innspruck — Tivo  Parties  at  Court — 
Gattinara— The  King  of  Denmark  won  over  by  Charles — 
Piety  of  the  Elector— Wiles  of  the  Romanists,     .        .        .443 


CHAPTER  III. 

Augsbm-g- The  Gospel  Preached— Tlie  Empe 


-The 


Sermons  Prohibited — Firmness  of  the  Elector — The  Elector's 
Reply — Preparation  of  the  Confession — Luther's  Sinai— His 
Son  and  his  Father— Luther's  Merriment- Luther's  Diet  at 
Coburg— Saxony,  a  Paradise  below— To  the  Bishops— Travail 
of  the  Church— Charles — The  Pope's  Letter — Melancthon 
on  Fasting — The  Church,  the  Judge — The  Landgi-ave's 
CathoUo  Spirit, 446 

CHAPTER  IV. 
Agitation  in  A ugsbiu-g— Violence  of  the  Imperialists— Charles 
at  Munich— Charles's  Arrival — The  Nuncio's  Blessmg— The 
Imperial  Procession — Charles's  Appearance — Enters  Augs- 
burg—Te  Deum— The  Benediction — Charles  desires  the 
Sermons  to  be  discontmued— Brandenburg  offers  his  Head 
— The  Emperor's  Request  for  Corpus  CAmii— Refusal  of 
the  Princes— Agitation  of  Charles — The  Princes  oppose  Tra- 
dition— Procession  of  Corpus  Chrisli — Exasperation  of 
Charles, 450 


CHAPTER  V. 
Tlie  Sei-mons  Prohibited— Compromise  Proposed  and  Accepted— 
The  Herald— Curiosity  of  the  Citizens— The  New  Preachers 
—The  Medley  of  Popery— Luther  encourages  the  Princes— 
Veni  Spiritics—Mass  of  the  Holy  Ghost— The  Sermon- 
Opening  of  the  Diet— The  Elector's  Prayer— Insidious  Plan 
of  the  Romanists — Valdez  and  Melancthon — No  Public 
Discussion — Evangelical  Firmness  prevails,         .        .        .  454 


CHAPTER  VI. 

The  Elector's  Zeal— The  Signmg  of  the  Confession— Courage  of 
the  Princes— Melancthon's  Weakness— The  Legate's  Speech 
— Delays — The  Confession  in  Danger — The  Protestants  are 
Fii'm — Melancthon's  Despondency — Luther's  Prayer  and 
Anxiety— Luther's  Texts— His  Letter  to  Melancthon— 
Faith, 453 

CHAPTER  VII. 
The  25th  Jime,  1530— The  Palatine  Chapel— Recollections  and 
Contrast— The  Confession — Prologue— Justification — The 
Church— Free  Will  and  Works— Faith— Interest  of  the 
Hearers — The  Princes  become  Preachers — The  Confession — 
Abuses — Church  and  State — The  Two  Governments— Epi- 
logue— Argumentation— Pradence — Church  and  State— The 
Sword— Moderate  Tone  of  the  Confession— Its  Defects— A 
New  Baptism, ,        ,        .        .  4G1 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

Effect  on  the  Romanists— Luther  Demands  Religious  Liberty— 
His  Dominant  Idea — Song  of  Triumph — Ingenuous  Confes- 
sions-Hopes of  the  Protestants — Failure  of  the  Popish 
lutrigues— The  Emperor's  Council — Violent  Discussions — 
A  Refutation  Proposed— Its  Authors— Rome  and  the  Civil 
Power — Perils  of  the  Confessors — Melancthon's  Minimum— 
The  Emperor's  Sister— Melancthon's  Fall — Luther  Opposes 
Concession— Tlie  Legate  Repels  Melancthon— The  Pope's 
Decision— Question— Melancthon's  School  Matters— Answer,  465 


CONTENTS. 


CnAPTEB  IX. 
Tlis  Refutation— Charles's  Dissatisfaction — Intcn'iow  with  tlio 
Princes— The  Swiss  at  Autjsburg— Tctrapolitan  Confession 
— Zwinglo's  Confession— Afflicting  Divisions— The  Elector's 
Faith— His  Peace- Tlie  Lion's  Skiu— The  Refutation— One 
Concession— Scripture  and  the  Hierarchy- Imperial  Com- 
mands—Interview between  Molaucthon  and  Campcggio— 
Policy  of  Charles— Stormy  Meeting— Resolutions  of  the 
Consistory— The  Prayers  of  the  Church— T>vo  Miracles— The 
Emperor's  Menace- The  Princes'  Courage— The  Mask- 
Negotiations— The  Specttes  at  Spires— Tumult  in  Augs- 
burg,    409 

CHAPTER  X. 
Philip  of  Hesse— Temptation- Union  Resisted— The  Land- 
grave's Dissimulation— The  Emperor's  Order  to  the  Protest- 
ants—Brandenburg's Thi-eateuing  Speeches— Resolution  of 
Philip  of  Hesse— Flight  from  Augsburg— Discovery— 
Charles's  Emotion— Revolution  in  the  Diet— Metamorphosis 
—Unusual  Motleration— Peace,  Peace  !       ....  475 


PlOE 

CHAPTER  XI. 
Tlio  MUed  Commission— The  Three  Points— Romish  Dlssimnla- 
tion— Abuses— Concessions— The  Main  Question— Bishops 
and  Pope  Conceded— Danger  of  Concession— Opposition  to 
the  Pretended  Concord — Luther's  Opposing  Letters — The 
Word  above  the  Church— Melancthon's  Blindness— Papist 
Infatuation— A  New  Commission- Be  Men,  and  not  Women 
— The  Two  Phantoms- Concessions- Tlie  Tliree  Points — 
The  Great  Antithesis— Failuie  of  Conciliation— The  Gordion 
Knot— A  Council  Granted— Charles's  Summons— Menaces 
—Altarcations— Peace  or  War- Romanism  Concedes— Pro- 
testantism Resists— Luther  Recalls  his  Friends,  .        .  477 

CHAPTER  XII. 
Tlie  Elector's  Preparatives  and  Indignation— Recess  of  Augsburg 
— Initatiug  Language— Apolog)'  of  the  Confession— Intimida- 
tion—Final  Inten-iew— Messages  of  Peace— Exasperation  of 
the  Papists— Restoration  of  Poperj-— Tumult  in  the  Church 
— Union  of  the  Cliurchcs — The  Pope  and  the  Emperor- 
Close  of  the  Diet— .\rmaments— Attack  on  Geneva — Joy  of 
the  Evangelicals— Establislunent  of  Protestantism,     .        .  483 


BOOK    XV. 

SWITZERLAND— CONQUESTS— 15261530. 


CHAPTER  I. 
Originality  of  the  Swiss  Reform— Change— Tlireo  Periods  of 
Reform— Switzerland  Romande— The  Two  Movements  in 
the  Church— Aggressive  Spirit— The  Schoolmaster— Farel's 
New  Baptism— Mysticism  and  Scholasticism— A  Door  is 
Opened — Opposition— Lausanne— Manners  of  the  Clergy— 
Farcl  to  Galeotto— Farel  and  the  Monk— The  Tribunal— 
The  Monk  Cries  for  Pardon— Opposition  of  the  Ormonds— 
A  False  Convert— Christian  Unity, 4S8 

CHAPTER  IL 
State  Religion  in  Berne— Irresolution  of  Berne— Almanac  of 
Heretics- Evangelical  Majority— Haller—Zwingle's  Signal 
—Anabaptists  in  Berne- Victory  of  the  Gospel— Papist 
Provocations— The  City  Companies— Proposed  Disputation 
—Objections  of  the  Forest  Cantons— The  Church,  the  Judge 
of  Controversies— Unequal  Contest— Zwingle— A  Christian 
Band— The  Cordelier's  Church— Opening  of  the  Conference 
—Tlie  Sole  Head— Unity  of  Error— A  Priest  Converted  at  the 
Altar— St.  Vincent's  Day— The  Butchers— A  Strange  Argu- 
ment-Papist Bitterness— Necessity  of  Reform— Zwingle's 
Sermon— Visit  of  the  King  of  kings— Edict  of  Reform-Was 
the  Reformation  PoUtical  ? 193 


CHAPTER  in. 
The  Reform  Accepted  by  the  People— Faith,  Purity,  and  Cliarity 
—First  Evangelical  Comraimion— Bernese  Proposition  to 
the  Diet— Cavern,  and  Head  of  Beatus — Threatening  Stonii 
from  the  Mountains— Revolt— Confusion  in  Berne— Untcr- 
waldcn  Crosses  the  Brunig— Energy  of  Berne- Victorj-- 
PoUtical  Advantages, '. 

CHAPTER  IV. 
Keformation  of  St.  Gall— Nuns  of  St.  Catherine— Reformation  of 
Claris,  Berne,  Appenzell,  the  Orisons,  Schaffhausen,  and 
the  Rhine  District— A  Popish  Miracle— Obstacles  in  B&le— 
Zeal  of  the  Citizens— (Ecolampadius  Marries— Witticism  of 
Erasmus— First  Action— Half-Measures— Petition  of  the 


CHAPTER  V. 
Crisis  in  Bale— Half-Measures  Rejected— Reformed  Propositions 
—A  Night  of  TeiTor— Idols  Broken  in  the  Cathedral— The 
Hour  of  Madness— Idols  Broken  in  all  the  Chui-ches- Reform 
legalized— Erasmus  in  Bale — A  Great  Transformation- 
Revolution  and  Reformation, 000 

CHAPTER  VI. 
Farel's  Commission — Farel  at  Lausanne  and  Moral — Neufchatcl 
—Farel  Preaches  at  Serrierc— Enters  Neufchatel— Sermon— 
The  Monks— Farel's  Preaching— Popery  in  Neufchatel— 
Canons  and  Monks  Unite—  Farel  at  Moral  and  in  the  Vully 
—Reformation  of  the  Bishopric  of  Bile— Farel  again  in 
Neufchatel— Placards— The  Hospital  Chapel— Ci^-il  Power 
Invoked  by  the  Romanists, 509 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Valangin— Guillemctte  de  Vergy— Fare!  goes  to  the  Val  de  Ruz 
— The  Mass  Intemnrted— Farel  Dragged  to  the  River — 
Farel  in  Prison — Apostles  and  Reformers  Compared — 
Farel  Preaching  at  Neufchatel— Installed  in  the  Cathedral— 
A  Whirlwind  sweeps  over  the  People— The  Idols  Destroyed— 
Interposition  of  the  Governor — Triumph  of  the  Reformed,     512 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
The  Romanists  Demand  a  Ballot— The  Bernese  in  Favour  of  the 
Reform — Both  Parties  come  to  the  Poll— The  Prudhommes 
of  Neufchatel— Proposed  Delay— The  Romanists  grasp  the 
Sword— The  Voting— Majority  for  Reform— Protestantism 
Perpetual — The  Image  of  St.  John — A  Miracle — Retreat  of 
the  Canons— Popery  and  the  Gospel,  .       .        .        .515 

CHAPTER  IX. 
Reaction  Preparing — Failure  of  the  Plot— Farel  in  Valangin  and 
near  the  Lake — De  Bely  at  Fontaine— Farel's  Sufferings — 
Marcourt  at  Valangin— Disgraceful  E.ipedient — Vengeance 
—The  Reform  EstJiblished— French  Switzerland  Character- 
ized—Gathering  Tempest,  518 


CONTEXTS. 


BOOK    XVI. 

SWITZERLAND — CATASTKOniE — 15281531. 


Page 
CHAPTER  I. 
Two  Great  Lessons— Christian  Warfare— Zwriigle,  Pastor,  States- 
man, and  General — His  Noble  Character — Persecutions — 
Swiss  Catholics  seek  an  Alliance  with  Austria— Great  Dis- 
satisfaction—Deputation to  the  Forest  Cantons— Zwingle's 
Proposal— Moderation  of  Berne— Keyser's  Martyrdou— 
Zwingle  and  War— Zwingle's  Error, 621 

CHAPTER  II. 
Free  Preaching  of  the  Gospel  in  Switzerland — Zwuigle  Supports 
the  Common  Bailiwicks — War— Zwingle  Joins  the  Array— 
The  Zurich  Army  Threatens  Zug— The  Landamman  Aebli — 
Bernese  Interposition — Zwingle's  Opposition— Swiss  Cor- 
diality— Order  in  the  Zurich  Camp— A  Conference— Peace 
Restored— Austrian  Treaty  Turn— Zwingle's  Hymn— Nuns 
of  Saint  Catlierine, 523 

CHAPTER  III. 
Conquests  of  Reform  in  Schaffliausen  and  Zurzack— Reform  in 
Glaris— To-day  the  Cowl,  To-morrow  the  Reverse— Italian 
Bailiwicks— The  Monk  of  Como— Egidio's  Hope  for  Italy — 
Call  of  the  Monk  of  Locarno— Hopes  of  Reforming  Italy — 
The  Monks  of  Wettingen-Ahhey  of  St.  Gall— Kilian  Kouffi 
— Samt  Gall  Recovers  its  Liberty— The  Reform  in  Soleure 
— Miracle  of  St.  Ours— Popery  Triumphs— The  Grisons 
Invaded  by  the  Spaniards— Addi-ess  of  the  Ministers  to  the 
Romish  Cantons  —  God's  Word  the  Means  of  Unity  — 
(Ecolampadius  for  Spiritual  Influence — Autonomy  of  the 
Church, 527 

CHAPTER  IV. 
Zwingle  and  the  Christian  State— Zwingle's  Double  Part— Zwingle 
and  Luther  in  Relation  to  Politics— Philip  of  Hesse  and  the 
Free  Cities— Projected  Union  between  Zwingle  and  Luther 
^Zwingle's  Political  Action — Project  of  Alliance  against 
the  Emperor— Zwingle  Advocates  Active  Resistance — He 
Destines  the  Imperial  Crown  for  Philip— FaiUts  of  the  Refor- 
mation—Embassy to  Venice— Giddiness  of  the  Reformation 
—Projected  Alliance  with  France— Zwingle's  Plan  of  Alliance 
—  Approaching  Ruin  —  Slanders  in  the  Five  Cantons- 
Violence — Mysterious  Paper — Berne  and  Bale  Vote  for 
Peace— General  Diet  at  Baden^Evangelical  Diet  at  Zurich 
— Political  Reformation  of  Switzerland— Activity  of  Ziu-ich,  5;i2 

CHAPTER  V. 

Diet  of  Arau— Helvetic  Unity — Berne  Proposes  to  Close  the 
Markets— Opposition  of  Zurich— Proposition  Agreed  to  and 
Published— Zwingle's  War  Sei-mon- Blockade  of  the  Wald- 
stcttes— No  Bread,  no  Wine,  no  Salt — Indignation  of  tlie 


Pace 
Forest  Cantons— Tlie  Roads  Blockaded— Processions— Cry 
of  Despau-— Fr.ance  tries  to  Conciliate— Diet  at  Bremgarteu 
—Hope— The  Cantons  Inflexible— The  Strengtli  of  Zuricli 
Broken— Discontent — Zwingle's  False  Position — Zwingle 
Demands  his  Dismission — The  Council  Remonstrate— He 
Remains — Zwingle  at  Bremgarten — Zwingle's  Farewell  to 
Bullinger— Ziviugle's  Agony— The  Forest  Cantons  Reject 
all  Conciliation— Friglitful  Omens— The  Comet— Zwingle's 
Tranquility, 537 

CHAPTER  VI. 
The  Five  Cantons  Decide  for  War— Deceitfid  Calm— Fatal  In- 
activity—Zurich Forewarned — Banner  of  Lucerne  Planted— 
Manifesto— The  Bailiwicks  PUlaged — The  Monastery  of 
Cappel— Letter— Infatuation  of  Zurich — New  Warnings — 
The  War  Begins— Tlie  Tocsin— A  Fearful  Night-Tlie  War 
— Banner  and  Army  of  Zurich— Zwingle's  Departure— 
Zwingle's  Horse— Anna  Zwingle, 543 

CHAPTER  VII. 
Tlie  Scene  of  War— The  Enemy  at  Zug— Declaration  of  War— 
Coimcil- Ai-niy  of  the  Forest  Cantons  Appears— Tlie  First 
Gun  fired— Zwingle's  Gravity  and  Soitow— Zurich  Army 
ascending  the  Albis— Halt  and  Coiuicil  at  the  Beech  Tree— 
They  quicken  their  March- Jauch's  Reconnaissance— His 
Appeal— Ambuscade, 547 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

Unforeseen  Change — The  whole  Army  Advances — Universal 
Disorder — The  Banneret's  De.ath— The  Banner  in  Danger — 
The  Banner  Saved— Terrible  Slaughter- Slaughter  of  the 
Pastors— Zwingle's  Last  Words— Barbarity  of  the  Victors— 
The  Furnace  of  Trial— Zmngle's  dying  Moments- Day  after 
tlie  Battle — Homage  and  Outrage, 550 


CHAPTER  IX. 
Consteni.ation  in  Zurich— Violence  of  the  Populace— Grief  and 
Distress — Zwingle  is  Dead! — Funeral  Oration — Army  of 
Zurich— Another  Reverse  on  the  Goubel — Inactivity  of  the 
Bernese — Hopes  and  Plan  of  Cliarles  V.--End  of  tlie  War 
—Treaty  of  Peace, 5  JI 

CHAPTER  X. 
Restoration  of  Popery  at  Bremgarteu  and  Eapperschvfyl— Priests 
and  Monks  everywhere— Sorrow  of  (Ecolampadius— A 
Tranquil  Scene — Peaceful  Death  of  (Ecolampadius— Henry 
Bullinger  at  Zurich— Contrition  and  Exultation- The  Great 
Lesson- Conclusion, 55G 


BOOK    XVII. 

ENGL.VND    BEFORE   THE   REFORMATION. 


CHAPTER  I. 
Introduction — Work  of  the  Sixteenth  Century- Unity  and  Di- 
versity—Necessity  of  considering  the  entire  Religious  History 
of  England— Establishment  of  Christianity  in  Great  Britain 
— Formation  of  Ecclesiastical  Catholicism  in  tlie  Roman 


Empire-Spii'itual  Christianity  received  by  Britain— Slavery 
and  Conversion  of  Succat— His  Mission  to  Ireland— Anglo- 
Saxons  Re-establish  Paganism  in  England— Columba  at  lona 
—Evangelical  Teaching— Presbytery  and  Episcopacy  in  Great 
Britain— Continental  Missions  of  the  Britons— An  Omission,  559 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  II. 
Popo  Gregory  tlio  Groat— Desires  to  Rodiico  Britain— Policy  of 
Gregory  ond  Aiigiistine— Arrival  of  the  Mission— Aiiprccla- 
lion— Britain  Superior  to  Rome— Uiiiotli  at  Bangor— First 
ami  Scconil  Romish  Aggressions— Anguish  of  the  Britons-  . 
Priilo  of  Konio— Rome  has  Recourse  to  the  Sword— Massacre 
—  Saint  Peter  Scourges  an  Archbishop  — Oswald  — i!is 
Victory— Cornian— Mission  of  Oswald  and  Aidan— Death  of 
Oswald, 0C3 

CHAPTER  III. 
Character  of  Oswy— Death  of  Aidan— Wilfred  at  Rome— At 
Oswald's  Court— Finan  and  Colman— Independence  of  tho 
Churoh  Attacked— Oswy's  Conquests  and  Troubles— Spiodua 
rharensis—Cedda— Degeneration— The  Disputation— Peter, 
the  Gatekeeper- Triumph  of  Rome— Grief  of  tho  Britons— 
Popedom  Organized  in  England— Papal  Exultation— Arch- 
bishop Theodore  —  Cedda  Reordained— Discord  in  the 
Church- Disgrace  and  Treachery  ol  Wilfred— His  End- 
Scotland  Attacked— Adamnan—Iona  Resists— A  King  Con- 
verted by  Architects  — Tho  Monk  Egbert  at  loua— His 
History- Monkish  Visions— Fall  of  loua,    .        .        .        .567 

CHAPTER  IV. 
Clement— Straggle  between  a  Scotchman  and  an  Englishman  — 
Word  of  God  only— Clement's  Success— His  Condemnation 
—Virgil  and  the  Antipodes— John  Scotiis  and  PhUosopliical 
Religion— Alfred  and  tho  Bible— Darkness  and  Popery- 
William  the  Conqueror— Wnlston  at  Edwanl's  Tomb  — 
Struggle  between  William  and  Hildebrand  — Tho  Popo 
Yields- Cffisaropapia, 573 

CHAPTER  V. 
Anselm's  Firmness— Beckct's  Austerity— The  King  Scourged— 
John  becomes  the  Pope's  Vassal— Collision  between  Popery 
and  Liberty — Tlie  Vassal  King  Ravages  his  Kingdom  — 
Religion  of  the  Senses  and  Superstition,       ....  57G 

CHAPTER  VI. 
Reaction— Orostcte— Principles  of  Reform— Contest  with  the 
Pope— Sewal— Progress  of  the  Nation— Opposition  to  the 
Papacy— Conversion  of  Bradwai-dine — Grace  is  Supreme— 
Edward  III.— Statutes  of  Proeisora  and  Pnemunire, .        .  578 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Tho  tiendicant  Friars— Their  Disorders  and  Popular  Indignation 

— WicklifTe- His  Success— Speeches  of  the  Peers  against 

the  Papal  Tribute— Agreement  of  Bruges— Coui-tenay  and 

Lancaster- Wjckliffo  before  the  Convocation— Altercation 


Pack 
between   Lancaster  and   Courtenay — Riot — Tlireo  Briefs 
against  WicklifTe— Wicklilfo  at  Lambeth- Mission  of  tho 
Poor  PriaU—  Their  Preachings  and  Persecutions— Wickliflo 
and  the  Four  Regents, 5SI 

CHAPTER  VIll. 
The  Bible-Wickliffe's  Ti-anslation- Effects  of  its  Publication- 
Opposition  of  the  Clergy— Wickliffo's  Fourth  Phasis— 
Transubstantiation — Excommnnication  — Wicklifle's  Firm- 
ness-Wat Tyler— The  Synod— Tlic  Condemned  Propositions 
— Wickliffe's  Petition  — Wickliffo  before  the  Primate  at 
OxfonI— Wickliffo  Summoned  to  Rome— His  Answer— The 
Trialogue— His  Death— And  Character— His  Teaching— His 
Ecclesiastical  Views- A  Prophecy, 585 

CHAPTER  IX. 
Tho   Wickliflites— Call   for   Refonn— Richanl  II.— Tho  First 
Martyr— Lord  Cobham — Appears  before  Henry  V. — Before 
the  Archbishop— His  Confession  and  Death— The  Lollards,   590 

CHAPTER  X. 
Learning  at  Florence— The  Tudors— Erasmus  visits  England- 
Sir  Thomas  More— Dean  Colet — Erasmus  and  young  Henry 
— Prince  Arthur  .and  Catherine— Marriage  and  Death — 
Catherine  Betrothed  to  Henry — Accession  of  Henry  VIII. — 
Enthusiasm  of  the  Learned— Erasmus  Recalled  to  England 
—Cromwell  before  the  Pope— Catherine  proposed  to  Henry 
—  Their  Marriage  and  Court  —  Tournaments  —  Henry's 
Danger, 591 

CHAPTER  XI. 
The  Pope  excites  to  War— Colet's  Sermon  at  St.  Paul's— Tlio 
Flemish  Campaign— Marriage  of  Louis  XII.  and  Princess 
Mary — Letter  from  Anne  Bolcyn— Mtirriage  of  Brandon  and 
Mary— Oxford— Sir  Tliomas  More  at  Court— Attack  upon 
the  Monasteries— Colet's  Household- He  Preaches  Refonu 
—The  Greeks  and  Trojans, 597 

CHAPTER  Xn. 
Wolscy— His  First  Commission— His  Complaisance  iind  Dioceses 
—Cardinal,  Cliaucellor,  and  Legate— Ostentation  and  Nec- 
romancy—His Spies  and  Enmity— Pretensions  of  the  Clergy,  600 

CHAPTER  Xin. 
Tlie  Wolves— Richard  Hun— A  Murder— Verdict  of  the  Jury- 
Hun  Condemned,  and  liis  Character  Vindicated  —  Tlio 
Gravesend  Passage-boat— A  Festival  Disturbed— Brown 
Tortured— Visit  from  his  Wife— A  Martyr— Cliaracter  of 
Erasmus— 1516  and  1517— Erasmus  goes  to  Bale,        .        .  602 


BOOK   XVIII. 

TIIK    REVIVAL   OF   THE    CHURCH. 


CHAPTER  T. 

Four  Reforming  Powers —Wliich  Rcfoi-nied  Engl.and  ?— Papal 

Reform?- Episcopal  Refonn  f—Pujyal  Reform?- What  is 

nquired  in  a  legitimate  Reform  ?— The  Share  of  the  Kingly 

Power- The  Share  of  the  Episcopal  Autbority— High  and 


Low  CTrarcb— Political  Events— The  Greek  and  Latin  New 
Testament— Tlioughts  of  Erasmus— Enthusiasm  and  Anger 
—Desire  of  Erasmus— Clamours  of  the  Priests— Tlieir 
Attack  at  Court— Astonishment  of  Erasmus— His  Labours 
for  this  Work— Edward  Lee ;  his  Character— Lee's  Tragedy 


CHAPTER  II. 
Effects  of  the  New  Testament  in  the  Universities — Conversations 
— A  Camhridge  Fellow — Bilney  buys  the  New  Testament — 
The  First  Passage^His  Conversion — Protestantism,  the 
Fruit  of  the  Gospel— The  Vale  of  the  Severn— William 
Tjmdale- Evangelization  at  Oxford— Bilney  Teaches  at 
Cambridge — Fryth — Is  Conversion  Possible?— True  Con- 
secration—The Eeformation  has  begim,       .        .        .        .609 

CHAPTER  III. 
Alarm  of  the  Qergy— The  Two  Days— Thomas  Man's  Preaching 
— True  Real  Presence — Persecutions  at  Coventry — Standish 
Preaches  at  St.  Paul's — His  Petition  to  the  King  and  Queen 
^His  Arguments  and  Defeat— Wolsey's  Ambition — First 
Overtures — Henry  and  Francis  Candidates  for  the  Empire- 
Conference  between  Francis  I.  and  Sir  T.  Boleyn — The  Tiara 
promised  to  Wolsey — The  Cardinal's  Intrigues  with  Cliarles 
and  Francis, 612 

CHAPTER  IV. 
Tyndale— Sodbury  Hall— Sir  John  and  Lady  Walsh— Table-talk 
—The  Holy  Scriptm-es— The  Images— The  Anchor  of  Faith 
—A  Roman  Camp— Preaching  of  Faith  and  Works— Tyndale 
Accused  by  the  Priests — Tliey  Tear  up  what  he  has  Planted 
— TjTidale  Resolves  to  Translate  the  Bible— His  First 
Triumph— The  Priests  in  the  Taverns— Tyndale  Summoned 
before  the  Chancellor  of  Worcester— Consoled  by  an  Aged 
Doctor— Attacked  by  a  Schoolman — His  Secret  becomes 
known— He  leaves  Sodbury  Hall, 615 

CHAPTER  V. 
Luther's  Works  in  England — Consultation  of  the  Bishops — The 
Bull  of  Leo  X.  Published  in  England— Luther's  Books  Burnt 
— Letter  of  Henry  VIII.— He  undertakes  to  Write  against 
Luther— Cry  of  Alarm— Tradition  and  SacramentaUsm— 
Prudence  of  Sir  T.  More— The  Book  presented  to  the  Pope 
— Defender  of  the  Fait/i—Ex\3ltntionoi  the  King,      ,        .618 

CHAPTER  VI. 
Wolsey's  Machinations  to  obtain  the  Tiara — He  gains  Charles  V. 
— Alliance  between  Henry  and  Charles — Wolsey  offers  to 
Command  the  Troops— Treaty  of  Bruges— Henry  believes 
himself  King  of  France— Victories  of  Francis  I.— Death  of 
LeoX., 620 

CHAPTER  VII. 
The  Just  Men  of  Lincolnshu-e- Their  Assemblies  and  Teaching 
—Agnes  and  Morden— Itmerant  Librai-ies— Polemical  Con- 
versations—Sarcasm—Royal Decree  and  Terror— Depositions 
and  Condemnations— Four  Martyrs— A  Conclave— Charles 
consoles  Wolsey, 622 


CHAPTER  VIII. 
Character  of  Tyndale — He  Arrives  in  London — He  Preaches — 
The  Cloth  and  the  EU— The  Bishop  of  London  gives  Audience 
to  Tj-ndale— He  is  Dismissed— A  Christian  Merchant  of 
London — Spii'it  of  Love  in  the  Eeformation — Tyndale  in 
Monmouth's  House — Fryth  helps  him  to  Translate  the  New 
Testament — Importunities  of  the  Bishop  of  Lincoln — Per- 
secution in  London— Tyndale's  Resolution— He  Departs— 
His  Indignation  against  the  Prelates— His  Hopes,       .        ,  ( 

CHAPTER  IX. 
Bilney  at  Cambridge— Conversions — The  University  Cross-bearei 
—A  Leicestershire  Farmer— A  Party  of  Students — Super- 
stitious Practices — An  Obstmate  Papist — The  Sophists— 
Latimer  Attacks  Stafford— BUney's  Resolution— Latimer 
hears  Bihiey's  Confession— Confessor  Converted— New  Life 
in  Latimer — Bihiey  Preaches  Grace — Nature  of  the  Ministiy 
— Latimer's  Character  and  Teaching — Works  of  Charity- 
Three  Classes  of  Adversai-ies— Clark  and  Dalaber,       .        ,  I 

CHAPTER  X. 
Wolsey  seeks  the  Tiara— Clement  VII.  is  Elected— Wolsey's 
Dissimulation — Charles  OfTers  France  to  Henry — Pace's 
Mission  on  this  Subject— Wolsey  Refonns  the  Convents— 
His  Secret  Alliances— Treaty  between  France  and  England 
— Taxation  and  Insurrection — False  Charges  against  the 
Reformers— Latimer's  Defence— Tenterden  Steeple,     .        .  i 

CHAPTER  XI. 
Tyndale  at  Hamburg— First  Two  Gospels— EmbaiTassment— 
Tyndale  at  Wittemberg— At  Cologne— The  New  Testament 
at  Press— Sudden  Inten-uption— Cochlffius  at  Cologne — 
Rupert's  Manuscripts— Discovery  of  Cochlceus— His  Inquiries 
— His  Alarm— Rincke  and  the  Senate's  Prohibition— Con- 
sternation and  Decision  of  Tyndale— Cochlceus  Writes  to 
England — Tyndale  Ascends  the  Rhine— Prints  Two  Editions 
at  Worms — Tyndale's  Prayer, ( 

CHAPTER  XII. 
Worms  and  Cambridge  —  St.  Paul  Resuscitated— Latimer's 
Preaching— Never  Man  spake  like  this  Man— Joy  and 
Vexation  at  Cambridge — Sermon  by  Prior  Buckingham — 
Irony — Latimer's  Reply  to  Buckingham — The  Students 
Threatened— Latimer  Preaches  before  the  Bishop — He  is 
forbidden  to  Preach— The  most  Zealous  of  Bishops— Barnes, 
the  Restorer  of  Letters— Bilney  undertakes  to  Convert  him 
— Barnes  offers  his  Pulpit  to  Latimer — Fryth's  Thirst  for 
God— Christmas  Eve,  1525— Storm  against  Barnes— Ferment 
in  the  Colleges — Germany  at  Cambridge— Meetmgs  at 
Oxford— General  Expectation, ( 


BOOK    XIX. 

THE  ENGLISH  NEW  TESTAMENT  AND   THE  COURT   OF  ROME. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Church  and  State  essentially  Distmct  -  Tlieir  Fundamental 
Principles— What  restores  Life  to  the  Church— Separation 
fi-om  Rome  necessarj-- Reform  and  Liberty— The  New 
Testament  Crosses  the  Sea— Is  Hidden  in  London— Garret's 
Preaching  and  Zeal  —  Dissemination  of  Scripture— What 


the  People  find  in  it— The  Effects  it  Produces— Tyndale's 
Explanations  — Roper,  More's  Son-in-law— Garret  canies 
Tj-ndale's  Testament  to  Oxford— Henry  and  his  Valet— 
Tlie  Supplication  of  the  Beggars— Two  Sorts  of  Beggars- 
Evils  caused  by  Priests — More's  Supplications  of  the  Souls 
In  Purgatory, 612 


CONTENTS. 


XXI 


Faob 
CHAPTER  II. 
The  Two  Authorities— Commencement  of  tlic  So.iioh— Garrut  nt 
Oxfunl— Ilia  Flight  — Uis  Return  nnd  Imprisonment- 
Escapes  and  tnkca  Rofugowith  Dalabor— Garret  and  Dalalwr 
ut  Prayer— The  .Vajiii/icat— Surprise  among  the  Doctors 
—Clark's  Advice  —  Fraternal  Lovo  at  Oxfonl-Alann  of 
Dalaber— His  Arrest  and  Examination— He  is  Tortured— 
Gamst  and  Twenty  Follows  Iniprisoncd-Tlie  Cellar— Con- 
demnation and  Humiliation, CW 


C'ilAPTEi:  III. 
Persecution  at  Cambridge— Barnes  Arrcsteil— A  Grand  Search 
—Barnes  at  Wolsey's  Palace- lutciTogatcd  by  the  Caiilinal 
—  Conversation  between  Wolsey  and  Barnes  —  Barnes 
Threatened  with  the  Stiikc— His  Fall  and  Public  Penance 
—Richard  Bayfield- His  Faith  and  Imprisonment— Visits 
Cambridge— Joins  Tj-ndale- The  Confessors  in  the  Cellar 
»t  Oxforxl— Four  of  them  Die— The  rest  Liberated,     .        .  619 

CHAPTER  IV. 
Luther's  Letter  to  the  King  — Henrj's  Anger- His  Reply- 
Luther's  Resolution- Persecutions— Barnes  Escapes — Pro- 
clamations against  the  New  Testament— W.  Roy  to  Caiaphas 
—Third  Edition  of  the  New  Testament— The  Triumph  of 
Law  and  Liberty— Hacket  attacks  the  Printer— Racket's 
Complaints- A  Seizure- The  Year  1526  in  England,   .        .  652 

CHAPTER  V. 
Wolsey  desires  to  be  Revenged— The  Divorce  Suggested— Henrj-'s 
Sentiments  towards  the  Queen— Wolsey 's  First  Steps— 
Longlaud's  Proceedings— Refus.al  of  Margaret  of  Valois— 
Objection  of  the  Bishop  of  Tarbes— Henrj's  Uneasiness- 
Catherine's  Alarm— Mission  to  Spain,  .        .        .        .651 


CHAPTER  VI. 
le  Bolej-u  appointed  Maid  of  Honour  to  Catherine— Lord 
Percy  becomes  Attached  to  her— Wolsey  Separates  them— 
Anne  enters  Margaret's  Household— Siege  of  Rome;  Crom- 
well—Wolsey's  Intercession  for  the  Popedom— He  demands 
the  Hand  of  Rcnee  of  France  for  Henry- Failure— Anne 
Re-appears  at  Court— Repels  the  King's  Advances- Henry's 
Letter— He  resolves  to  accelerate  the  Divorce— Two  Jlotives 
which  Induce  Anne  to  Refuse  the  Cro«-n  —  Wolsey's 
Opposition, 056 


CHAPTER  VII. 
Bilney's  Preaching— His  Arrest— Arthur's  Preaching  and  Ini- 
prisoument— Bilney's  Exaiuiaation— Contest  between  the 


Paoe 
Judge  and  the  Prisoner- Bilney's  Weakness  and  Fall— His 
Terrors— Two  Wants— Arrival  of  the  Fourth  Edition  of  the 
New  Testament— Joy  among  the  Believers,         .        .        .  659 


CHAPTER  Vlll. 
The  Papacy  intercepts  the  Gospel— Tlie  King  consults  Sir  Tliomas 
Mor«— Ecclesiastical  Conferences  about  tlio  Divorce— Tho 
Universities— Clark— The  Nun  of  Kent— Wolsey  Decides  to 
do  the  King's  Will— Mission  to  the  Pope— Four  Documents 
—Embarrassment  of  Charles  V. — Francis  Philip  at  Madrid 
—Distress  and  Resolution  of  Charles— He  tunis  away  from 
the  Reformation- Conference  at  the  Castle  of  St.  Augelo- 
Knifiht  Arrives  in  Italy— His  Flight— Treaty  between  the 
Pope  and  tho  Emperor— Escape  of  the  Pope— Confusion  of 
Henry  VIII.— Wolsey's  Orders- His  Entreaties,         .        .  602 


CHAPTER  IX. 
The  English  Envoys  at  Orvicto— Tlieir  Oration  to  tho  Pope 
—Clement  gains  Time- Tho  Envoys  and  Cardinal  Sanc- 
torum Quatuor— Stratagem  of  the  Pope — Knight  discovers 
it  and  Returns— The  Transfonnations  of  Antichrist— Tlie 
English  obtain  a  new  Document— Fresh  Stratagem— Demand 
of  a  Second  Cardinal-Ieg.ite— The  Pope's  New  Expedient- 
End  of  tho  Campaign, 


CHAPTER  X. 
Disappointment  in  England— War  declared  against  Cliarlcs  V. — 
Wolsey  desires  to  get  him  Deposed  by  tho  Pope- A  New 
Scheme- Embassy  of  Fox  and  Gardiner— Their  Arrival  at 
Orvieto— Their  First  Interview  with  Clement— The  Pope 
reads  a  Treatise  by  Henry— Gardiner's  Tlireats  and  Clement's 
Promise— The  Modem  Fabius- Fresh  Interview  and  Menaces 
—Tlie  Pope  has  not  the  A'ey- Gardiner's  Proposition- 
Difficulties  and  Delays  of  the  Cardinals— Gardiner's  Last 
Blows— Reverses  of  Charles  V.  in  Italy— The  Pope's  Terror 
and  Concession— The  Commission  granted— Wolsey  demands 
the  Engagement— K  Loophole— The  Pope's  Distress,  .  ( 


CHAPTER  XI. 
Fox's  Report  to  Henry  and  Anno— Wolsey's  Impression- Ha 
demands  the  Decretal— One  of  the  Cardinal's  petty  Manaiu- 
vrcs— He  sets  his  Conscience  at  Rest— Gardiner  Fails  at 
Rome— Wolsey's  New  Perfuly-Tlio  ICing's  Anger  against 
the  Pope— Sir  T.  More  predicts  Religious  Liberty— Immo- 
rality of  Ultramontane  Socialism— Erasmus  Invited— Wol- 
sey's last  Flight— Energetic  Efforts  at  Rome- Clement 
Grants  all  — Wolsey  Triumphs  —  Union  of  Romo  .and 
England, ^H 


BOOK  XX. 

THE  TWO  DIVORCES. 


CHAPTER  1. 
Progress  of  the  Refoiination— The  two  Divorces— Entreaties  to 
Anne  Boleyn— The  Letters  in  the  Vatican— Henry  to  Anne 
— Henr7'8  Second  Letter— Third— Fourth— Wolsey's  Alarm 


—His  fruitless  Procwdings— He  tnms- Tlie  Sweating  Sick- 
ness-Henry's Fears- New  Letters  to  Anno— Anne  falls 
Sick ;  her  Peace— Henry  Writes  to  her— Wolsey's  Terror- 
Campegglo  does  not  Arrive— All  Dissemble  at  Court,  .  675 


CHAPTER  II. 
Coverdale  and  Inspiration—  He  undertakes  to  Translate  the 
Scriptures — His  Joy  and  Spiritual  Songs— Tyball  and  the 
Laymen— Coverdale  Preaches  at  Bumpstead — Revival  at 
Colchester— Incomplete  Societies  and  the  New  Testament — 
Persecution — Monmouth  Ai-rested  and  Released,         .        .  679 

CHAPTER  III. 
Political  Changes— Fresh  Instructions  from  the  Pope  to  Cam- 
peggio— His  Delays— He  unbosoms  himself  to  Francis— A 
Prediction— Arrival  of  Campeggio— Wolsey's  Uneasiness — 
Henry's  Satisfaction— The  Cardinal's  Project — Campeggio's 
Reception— First  Interview  with  the  Queen  and  with  the 
King — Useless  Efforts  to  make  Campeggio  part  with  the 
Decretal— Tlie  Nuncio's  Conscience— Public  Opinion- Mea- 
sures taken  by  the  King— His  Speech  to  the  Lords  and 
Aldermen — Festivities — Wolsey  seeks  French  Support- 
Contrariety,         68-2 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Trnc  Catholicity— Wolsey— Harman's  Matter— West  sent  to 
Cologne— Labours  of  Tyndale  and  Fr.'th — Rincke  at  Frank- 
fort—He makes  a  Discovery — Tyndale  at  Marburg— West 
Returns  to  England— His  Tortures  in  the  Monastery,  .  637 

CHAPTER  V. 
Necessity  of  the  Reformation — Wolsey's  Earnestness  with  Da 
C'asale— An  Audience  with  Clement  VII.— Cruel  Position  of 
the  Pope— A  Judas  Kiss — A  new  Brief — Bryan  and  Vaunes 
sent  to  Rome— Henry  and  Du  Bellay — Wolsey's  Reasons 
against  the  Brief — Excitement  in  London — Metamorphosis 
—Wolsey's  Decline-His  Auguish, 690 

CHAPTER  VI. 
The  Pope's  Illness— Wolsey's  Desire— Conference  about  the 
Members  of  the  Conclave — Wolsey's  Instructions — The  Popo 
Recovers— Speech  of  the  English  Envoys  to  the  Pope— 
Clement  willing  to  abandon  England — The  English  demand 
tlie  Pope's  Denial  of  the  Brief^Wolsey's  Alai-ra — Intrigues 
— Bryan's  Clearsightedness  —  Henry's  Threats— Wolsey's 
new  Efforts— He  calls  for  an  Appeal  to  Rome  and  Retracts 
—Wolsey  and  Du  Bellay  at  Richmond-  Tlie  Ship  of  the 


tate. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Discnssion  between  the  Evangelicals  and  the  Catholics— Union 
of  Le.aniiiig  and  Life— The  Laity— Tewkesbury — His  Ap- 
pearance before  the  Bishops'  Court — He  is  Tortured — Two 
Classes  of  Opponents— A  Theological  Duel — Scripture  and 
the  Church — Emancipation  of  the  Mind— Mission  to  the 
Low  Countries — Tyndale's  Embarrassment — Tonstall  wishes 
to  buy  the  Books— Packington's  Stratagem— Tyndale  De- 
parts for  Antwerp— His  ShipwTeck— Arrival  at  Hamburg- 
Meets  Coverdale, ( 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
The  Royal  Session— Sitting  of  the  ISth  June  :  the  Queen's  Pro- 
test—Sitting of  the  21st  June — Summons  to  the  King  and 
Queen— Catherine's  Speech— She  Retires— Impression  on 
the  Audience— Tlie  King's  Declaration— Wolsey's  Protest- 
Quarrel  between  the  Bishops— New  Sitting— Apparition  to 
the  Maid  of  Kent— Wolsey  chafed  by  Henry— The  Earl  of 
Wiltshire  at  Wolsey's— Private  Conference  between  Catherine 
and  the  two  Legates,  i 


CHAPTER  IX. 
Tlie  Trial  Resuin cd— Catherine  Summoned— Twelve  Articles— 
The  Witnesses'  Evidence— Arthur  and  Catherine  really  Mar- 
ried—Campeggio  opposes  the  Argument  of  Divine  Right- 
Other  Arguments— The  Legates  required  to  Deliver  Judg- 
ment— Their  Tergiversations— Change  in  Men's  Minds — 
Final  Session— General  Expectation— Adjournment  during 
Harvest— Campeggio  Excuses  this  Impertmence— The  King's 
Indignation— Suffolli's  Violence— Wolsey's  Reply — He  is 
Ruined— General  Accusations— The  Cardinal  turns  to  an 
Episcopal  Life, 701 

CHAPTER  X. 
Anne  Bole3m  at  Hever- She  Reads  the  Obedience  of  a  Cliristian 
Man— Is  Recalled  to  Court— Miss  Gainsford  and  George 
Zouch  —  Tyndale's  Book  Converts  Zouch — Zouch  in  tha 
Chapel-Royal— The  Book  seized — Anne  applies  to  Henrj-- 
Tlie  King  reads  the  Book — Pretended  Inlluence  of  the  Book 
on  Henry— The  Court  at  Woodstock — The  Park  and  its 
Goblins— Henry's  Esteem  for  Anne, 703 


CHAPTER  XL 
Embarrassment  of  the  Pope— The  Triumphs  of  Charles  decide 
hiin — He  Traverses  the  Cause  to  Rome — Wolsey's  Dejeotion 
— Henry's  Wrath— His  Fears — Wolsey  obtains  Comfort- 
Arrival  of  the  two  Legates  at  Grafton— Wolsey's  Reception 
by  Henry— Wolsey  and  Norfolk  at  Dinner— Henry  with 
Anne— Conference  between  the  King  and  the  Cardinal — 
Wolsey's  Joy  and  Grief — The  Supper  at  Euston — Cam- 
peggio's Farewell  Audience— Wolsey's  Disgrace— Campeggio 
at  Dover— He  is  Accused  by  the  Courtiers— Leaves  England 
—Wolsey  foresees  his  own  Fall  an.l  that  of  the  Papacy,       .  705 


CHAPTER  XIL 

A  Meeting  at  Waltham— Youth  of  Thomas  Cranmer— His  Early 
Education— Studies  Scripture  for  Three  Years — His  Fimc- 
tions  as  Examiner — The  Supper  at  Waltham — New  View  of 
the  Divorce — Foxe  Communicates  it  to  Henry — Cranmer's 
Vexation  —  Conference  with  the  King— Cranmer  at  the 
Boleyns, 703 

CHAPTER  Xlll. 
Wolsey  in  the  Court  of  Cliancery— AccusclI  by  the  Dukes— 
Refuses  to  give  up  the  Great  Seal — His  Despair— He  gives 
up  the  Seal— Order  to  Depart — His  Inventory — Alarm— 
The  Scene  of  Dep.arture — Favouraljle  Message  from  the 
King— Wolsey's  Joy— His  Fool— Arrival  at  Esher,      .        .  711 


CHAPTER  XIV. 
Thomas  More  elected  Cliancellor — A  Lay  Government  one  of  the 
great  Facts  of  the  Reformation— Wolsey  Accused  of  Subor- 
dinating England  to  the  Pope— He  Implores  the  King's 
Clemency— His  Condemnation  —  Cromwell  at  Esher— His 
Cliaracter- He  sets  out  for  London— Sir  Christopher  Hales 
Recommends  him  to  the  King— Cromwell's  Interview  with 
Henry  in  the  Park— A  New  Theory— Cromwell  Elected 
Member  of  Parliament— Opened  by  Sir  Tlioiuas  More — 
Attack  on  Ecclesiastical  Abuses- Reforms  Pronoimced  by 
the  Convocation— Tliree  Bills — Rochester  Attacks  them — 
Resistance  of  the  House  of  Commons — Straggles — Henry 
Sanctions  the  Three  Bills— Alarm  of  the  Clergy,  and  Dis- 
turbances,   71  i 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  XV. 
The  lAst  Hour— Moro's  Fanntidsiu— Debates  Ui  Convocation — 
Royal  Proclamation —The  Biahop  of  Norwich— Suntoncca 
Coudemnetl— Latimer's  Opposition —Tim  New  Tastaniont 
Burnt— The  Persecution  Begius-IIilton- Bayfluld— Tonstall 
(nd  Packington— Baylielil  Arrested- The  Rector  Patmoro— 
LoUanl's  Tower— Tyndolo  and  Patmoro-A  Musician— Freeso 
the  Painter— Placanls  and  Martynlom  of  Bonnet—Thomas 
Uoro  and  Jolm  Petit— Bilucy, 717 


CHAPTER  XVI. 
ulsey's  Terror- Impeachment  hy  the  Peers- Cromwell  Saves 
him — The  Cardinal's  Illness- Ambition  returns  to  him — 
His  Practices  in  Yorksliire— He  is  Arrested  by  Northum- 
berland—His Departure— Arrival  of  the  Constable  of  tho 
Tower — Wolsey  at  lioicester  Abbey — Persecuting  Languago 
—Ho  Dies— Tlirco  Movements  ;  Supremacy,  Scripture,  and 
Faith. 722 


LIST   OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


ENGRAVINGS  ON  STEEL. 

PovKBTY— Scene :  St  George's  Square,  Eisenach,  1493. 

TnK  School— The  Scene  takes  place  before  the  Mansfeld  Grammar  School,  143*-1497. 

Tu«  Bible— Scene:  The  University  Library  at  Erfurt,  1503. 

Tub  C.iLL  FKOM  God — Scene:  The  Gate  of  the  University  Library,  Erfurt,  1505. 

Hl'MlUATlON — Scene:  Gate  of  the  Augustine  Monastery  at  Erfurt,  Autumn,  1505. 

The  I.SDCLGEXIE.-5 ;  OB,  THE  XuNETV-FivE  Propositioxs — Scene  in  front  of  All  Saints'  Church,  Wittemberg.  Slst  October,  1517. 

LiTiiER  BrR.sixo  THE  Pope's  Bcll — Scene  in  front  of  the  East  Gate  of  Wittemberg,  10th  December,  1520. 

The  Diet  or  Worms— Scene:  Hall  of  the  Diet,  13th  April,  1521. 

LcTHEB  o.v  TUE  WARTBrRG — 1th  May  1521 ;  4th  March,  1522. 

TuE  M.UIRI.ICE— Scene:  Amsdorflf's  House  at  Wittemberg. 

Domestic  Life- Scene :  A  Room  in  Luther's  House  at  Wittemberg, — on  the  walla  are  Portraits  of  the  Reformer's  Friends,  153C. 

Victory  is  Death— Eisleben,  the  night  of  the  18th  February,  1546. 


ENGRAVINGS 


ON  WOOD. 


Hum  before  the  Council,      .... 

Huss  Preaching, 

Heidelberg, 

Erasmus  in  his  Study,  .... 

Cologne, 

Mayence  Cathedral 

Banhea  of  Constantine,  Treves,  . 

Town  Walls,  Nuremberg 

Hans  Sachs'  House,  Nuremberg, 

Magdebourg, 

Augustine  Convent,  Erfurt, 

Wittemberg 

Bologna, 

Rome, 

Arch  of  Titus,  Rome 

Mayence, 

The  Aniscl,  near  Dresden,   .... 

Fribourg  Cathedral 

The  Old  Council-House,  Leipsic, 

Leo  X.,  (from  an  original  picture  by  Raffaelle,) 

St  Peter's,  Rome, 

Kuremberg  Cistle, 

Luther's  House,  Frankfort, 

Cologne  Cathedral, 

Dr.  Eek, 

The  Rhine  at  Bacharach, 

Melancthon,  (from  the  original  by  Albert  Durer  in  the 

British  Portrait  GaUerv,) 
Wc 

Albert  Durcr's  Studio,  Nuremberg, 
Cardinal's  Hat, 
VaUey  of  the  MoscUe, 
Fwderick  of  Saxony, 
Bed  CoUege,  Leipdc, 


Bile, 

Town  Hall,  Leipsic, 

Palace  of  the  Pleissenburg,  Leipsic,      . 

St  Thomas's  Church,  Leipsic,      .... 

Church  of  St.  Nicholas,  Leipsic, 

Peter's  Gate,  Leipsic, 

Cathedral,  St  Peter's,  Prague,    .... 
Luther's  Memorial,  Worms,         .... 
Charles  V.,  (from  the  original  by  Holbein,) 
St  Mary's  Church,  Dresden,        .... 
FrancU  L,  (after  the  Portrait  by  Titians,)  . 

Church,  Auc-laChapelle, 

Church  of  Apostles,  Cologne,       .... 

Cathedral,  Mentz, 

Luther's  Cell,  Erfurt, 

Cathedral  of  Worms 

Eeinhardsbrunn, 

Martin  Bucer 

Philip  the  Magnanimous,  Mangrave  of  Hesse,  (from  : 

old  German  print,) 

Frankfort 

Friedberg, 

Eisenach, 

Altenstein, 

The  Wartburg, 

TeUs  Chapel, 

Zwingle's  Birthplace, 

Lausanne  Cathedral, 

Gate,  St.  Paul's,  Bile. 

Zwingle, 

QDooLimpadius, 

HohenzoUem, 

Sch\vitz, 

St  Gothard's  Pass, 


Paci 
133 
140 
141 
141 
14S 
14S 
152 
152 
153 
155 
156 
157 
157 
1S4 
1S4 
192 
197 
200 


XXVI 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Page 

Duterwaldeu 232 

Lucerne 232 

Baths  of  Pfeffers, 237 

Cathedral  of  Zurich 240 

Baden, 240 

Schafifhausen, 241 

Avigaon, 24S 

Appenzel, 232 

Berne  Cathedral 2o6 

Friburg  Cathedral, 256 

Entrance  Hall,  Wartburg 261 

La  Sorbonne,  Paris, 268 

Cathedral,  Ulm 2SS 

Palace  of  Henry  v.,  Heidelberg 291 

St.  Gudule,  Brussels, 301 

Stuttgard 304 

Hotel  de  ViUe,  Puatisbon, 305 

Eatisbon, 308 

Brienz, 325 

Coblentz 332 

Biile  Cathedral, 340 

Lake  Zurich, 341 

St.  GaU, 353 

Farel, 360 

Cathedral,  Tours, 360 

Geneva, 364 

Noyon  Cathedra! 365 

Margaret  of  Valois, 368 

Meaux, 372 

Meaux  Cathedral 373 

Mentz, 380 

Lyons, 3So 

Cathedral  of  Lyons 3S8 

Strasburg, 397 

Cathedral,  Nancy, 400 

Pont-a-Mousson, 400 

Ducal  Palace,  Nancy, 400 

Notre  Dame,  Paris, 401 

Cathedral,  Noyon, 401 

Calvin's  House,  Noyon 404 

St.  Germaine  I'Auxerrois,  Paris,           ....  404 

Fortress,  Pont-a-Mousson, 404 

Church  of  St.  Thomas,  Strasbur^',        ....  405 

The  Rhone  at  Avignon 405 

House,  Lyons 407 

Berlin, 420 

Munich 421 

Spires, 424 

Cathedral,  Spires, 428 

Spires 429 

Strasburg 432 

Augsburg, 448 

Munich  Cathedral, 452 

Lindau 472 

Geneva, 487 

St.  Maurice, 489 

Lausanne, 492 

Berne 493 

Arau, 500 

LakeofThun 500 

Interlakeu, 501 

Giesbach 501 


Page 

Bale 501 

Cathedral,  St.  Gall, 504 

Thun, 504 

Schaffhausen, 584 

Cathedral,  Str.isburg, 505 

Crypt,  Bale  Cathedral, 50S 

Friburg 508 

Vevay, 512 

Pierre-Pertuis, 513 

Velangin, 513 

Locarno, 520 

Zurich, 524 

Como, 528 

Bregentz, 532 

Grutli 544 

Zwingle  Leaving  Zurich 518 

The  Clyde,  near  Kilpatrick, 5C0 

lona, 564 

Interior,  St.  Chappelle,  Paris, 569 

St.  Mary's  Abbey,  York, 572 

Elizabeth's  Tomb,  Westminster  Abbey,        ...  576 

Thomas  a  Becket's  Chapel, 577 

Clause  of  Magna  Charta 577 

Lincoln  Cathedral,  Ch.apter  House,       ....  5S0 

Braseuose  College,  Oxford 500 

Wickliffe,   (after  the  original  in  the  collection  of  the 

Duke  of  Dorset,) 581 

Old  St.  Paul's 584 

Lutterworth  Church, 584 

Lambeth  Palace, 585 

Pvuins  of  Savoy  Palace 585 

St.  Paul's  Cross, 5S9 

Burning  at  Smithfield, 592 

Pontefract  Castle 392 

Chantryof  Henry  v.,  Westminster  Abbey,          .         .  593 

Sir  Thomas  More's  House 596 

Henry  VIII.,  (after  Holbein's  picture,)        .         .         .  596 

Wolsey, eOO 

Richmond  Palace COl 

The  Arrest  of  John  Brown, 004 

The  Lollard's  Prison COS 

Tyndale, CI  2 

Doorway,  King's  College,  Cambridge,           .         .         .  C12 

Latimer, 028 

Cologne  Cathedral, C33 

St.  John's,  Cambridge, G40 

Eltham  Palace, 64-1 

Greenwich, C5G 

Hampton  Cotirt, C61 

Sir  Thomas  More,  (after  Holbein's  Picture,)         .         .  664 

Palm  Sunday, 072 

Anne  Boleyn, 670 

Anne  Boleyn's  Box 676 

Waltham  Abbey  Church, CSO 

ILatfield, CSl 

Great  Tom  at  Oxford 688 

Cranmer,  (after  the  original  in  tlie  coUectiou  at  Lam- 
beth Palace,)    712 

Dmh.am  House, 712 

Wolsey's  Hall,  Hampton  Coiu't,           .        .        .        .  713 

State  Prison,  Tower, 721 


HISTORY   OF  THE   REFORMATION 


SIXTEENTH    CENTURY. 


BOOK    I. 


STATF.    or    MATTERS    nEFOKK    TIIR    REFOR\[ATION. 


(  IIAPTER  I. 

CliriillAnlly— Tw-o  dUllngiiisliing  Principles— Formation  of  the  Papacy— 
Ftret  Encroachments— Influence  of  Rome — Co-operation  of  Bishops  and 
Factions— Eitemal  Unity  of  the  Chiin-h- Internal  Vnity  of  the  Church 
—Primacy  of  St  Peter— Patriarchates-Co-operation  of  Princes— Influ- 
ence of  the  Barbarians- Rome  Invokes  the  Fmnks— SccuUr  Power— 
Pepin  and  Charlemagne— Tlie  Decretals— Disorders  of  Rome— Tl;e 
EmpcMrthe  Pope's  Liege  Lord— Hildebrand— His  Character— Celibacy 
— StrTiggle  with  the  Emperor — Emancipation  of  the  Pope — Hildebrand'H 
Successois— The  Crcsades— Tlie  Church— Cormption  of  Doctrine. 

The  cnfcebleil  ■\vorlJ  was  rockin)i  on  its  base  •when 
Chrislianity  ai)|icared.  National  religions  wliicli  had 
giiHioed  for  the  fathers,  could  no  longer  satisfy  the 
children.  The  new  generation  could  not  be  moulded 
in  the  ancient  forms.  The  pods  of  all  nation.s,  tran.*- 
ported  to  Rome,  had  there  lost  their  oracles,  as  the 
nations  had  there  lost  their  liberty.  Brought  face  to 
face  in  the  Capitol,  they  had  mutually  destroyed  eacit 
other,  and  their  divinity  had  di.sappeared.  A  great 
void  had  been  made  in  the  religion  of  the  world. 

A  kind  of  Deism,  destitute  of  spirit  and  life,  kept 
floating,  fur  soute  time,  over  the  abyss  in  which  the 
vigorous  superstitions  of  the  ancients  were  engulfed. 
IJut.  like  all  negative  beliefs,  it  was  unable  to  build. 
Nan-ow  national  distinctions  fell  with  the  gods,  and 
the  nations  melted  down  into  one  another.  In  Europe, 
Asia,  and  Africa,  there  was  now  only  one  empire, 
and  the  human  race  began  to  feel  its  universality  and 
its  unity. 

Then  the  Word  was  made  flesh. 

God  appeared  among  men,  and  as  a  man,  "  to  save 
that  which  was  lost."  lu  Jesus  of  Nazareth  "  dwelt 
all  the  fulness  of  the  Godhead  bodily." 

Tills  is  the  greatest  event  in  the  annals  of  the  world. 
Ancient  times  had  prepared  it. — new  times  flow  from 
it.     It  is  their  centre,  their  bond,  and  their  unity. 

Thenceforth  all  the  popular  superstitions  were  with- 
out me.ining;  and  tlie  slender  remains  which  they  had 
saved  from  the  great  shipwreck  of  infidelity  sank  be- 
fore the  Majestic  Sim  of  eternal  truth. 

The  Son  of  Man  lived  thirty-three  years  here  below, 
rnring  the  sick,  instructing  sinners,  liaving  uo  place 


where  to  lay  His  head,  yet  displaying,  iii  the  depth  of 
this  humiliation,  a  grandeur,  ji  holiness,  a  po\vi-r,  and 
divinity,  which  the  world  had  never  known.  lie  suf- 
fered, died,  rose  again,  and  ascended  to  heaven.  His 
disciples,  beginning  at  Jerusalem,  tr.ivcrsed  the  empire 
and  the  world,  everywhere  proclaiming  their  Master 
"  the  Author  of  eternal  salvation."  From  the  heart  of 
a  nation  which  stood  aloof  from  all  nations,  came  forth 
a  mercy  which  invited  and  eml>raced  all.  A  great 
number  of  Asiatics.  Greeks,  and  Koinaiis.  till  then  led 
by  priests  to  the  feet  of  dumb  idols,  lielieved  the  Word 
which  suddenly  illumined  the  eartli  "  like  a  sunbeam," 
as  Eusebius  expresses  it.  A  breath  of  life  began  to 
move  over  this  vast  field  of  death.  A  new  people,  a 
holy  nation,  was  formed  among  men ;  and  the  astonished 
world  beheld,  in  the  di,«ciples  of  the  G.llilean,  a  purity, 
a  self-denial,  a  charity,  a  heroi.'sm.  of  which  it  had  lost 
even  the  idea. 

Two  i)rinciples,  in  particular,  distinguished  the  new 
religion  from  all  the  human  systems  which  it  drove 
before  it.  The  one  related  to  the  ministers  of  worsliip, 
the  other  to  doctrine. 

The  ministers  of  Paganism  were  in  a  manner  the 
gods  whom  those  human  religions  worshipped.  The 
priests  of  Egypt,  Gaul,  Scythi.a,  Germany.  Britain, 
and  Ilindostan,  led  the  people  .so  long,  at  le.ast,  as  the 
eyes  of  the  people  were  unopened.  Jesus  Christ,  no 
doubt,  established  a  ministry,  but  He  did  not  found  a 
particular  priesthood.  lie  dethroned  the  living  idols 
of  the  nations,  dosti-oycd  a  proud  hierarchy,  took  from 
man  what  inau  had  taken  from  God,  and  brought  the 
soul  again  into  immediate  contact  with  the  Divine 
source  of  truth,  proclaiming  himself  sole  Master  and 
sole  Mediator. — "  One  is  your  M.tsier.  even  Christ," 
.said  He;  "and  all  ye  are  brethren,"  (Matt,  x.viii.  8.) 

In  regard  to  doctrine,  human  religions  had  taught 
that  salvation  was  of  man.  The  religions  of  the  earth 
had  framed  an  earthly  religion.  They  had  told  man 
that  heaven  would  be  given  him  as  a  hire — they  had 
fixed  its  j)rice;  and  what  a  price  I  The  religion  of 
God  taught  that  salvation  c.ime  from  God.  was  a  gift 
from  heaven,  the  result  of  an  amnesty,  of  an  act  of 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


grace  by  the  Sovereign.  '•  C4od,"  it  is  said,  "  has  given 
eternal  life." 

It  is  true,  Christianity  cannot  be  summed  up  under 
these  two  heads,  but  they  seem  to  rule  the  subject, 
especially  where  history  is  concerned ;  and  as  we  can- 
not possibly  trace  the  opposition  between  truth  and 
error  in  all  points,  we  must  select  those  of  them 
which  are  most  prominent. 

Such,  then,  were  two  of  the  constituent  principles 
of  the  religion  which  at  that  time  took  possession  of 
the  empire,  and  of  the  world.  With  them  we  are 
within  the  true  landmarks  of  Christianity — out  of 
them  Christianity  disappears.  On  the  preservation 
or  the  loss  of  them  depended  its  gi-eatness  or  its  fall. 
They  are  intimately  connected ;  for  it  is  impossible  to 
exalt  the  priests  of  the  Church,  or  the  works  of  be- 
lievers, without  lowering  Jesus  Christ  in  His  double 
capacity  of  Mediator  and  Redeemer.  The  one  of 
these  principles  should  rule  the  history  of  religion, 
the  other  should  rule  its  doctrine.  Originally,  both 
were  paramount ;  let  us  see  how  they  were  lost.  We 
begin  with  the  destinies  of  the  former. 

The  Church  was  at  first  a  society  of  brethren,  under 
the  guidance  of  brethren.  They  were  all  taught  of 
God,  and  eacli  was  entitled  to  come  to  the  Divine 
fountain  of  light,  and  draw  for  himself,  (John  vi.  45.) 
The  Epistles,  which  then  decided  great  questions  of 
doctrine,  were  not  inscribed  with  the  pompous  name 
of  a  single  man — a  head.  The  Holy  Scriptures  inform 
us  that  the  words  were  simply  these,  '■  The  apostles, 
elders,  and  brethren,  to  our  brethren,"  (Acts  xv.  23.) 

But  even  the  writings  of  the  apostles  intimate,  that 
from  the  midst  of  these  brethren  a  power  would  rise 
and  subvert  this  simple  and  primitive  order,  (2  Thess. 
ii.  2.) 

Let  us  contemplate  the  formation,  and  follow  the 
development  of  this  power — a  power  foreign  to  the 
Church. 

Paul  of  Tarsus,  one  of  the  greatest  apostles  of  the 
new  religion,  had  arrived  at  Rome,  the  capital  of  the 
empire  and  of  the  world,  preaching  the  salvation 
which  comes  from  God.  A  church  was  formed  be- 
side the  throne  of  the  Ca3sars.  Founded  by  this 
apostle,  it  consisted  at  first  of  some  converted  Jews, 
some  Greeks,  and  some  citizens  of  Rome.  For  a  long 
time  it  shone  like  a  pure  light  on  a  mountain  top.  Its 
faith  was  everywhere  spoken  of ;  but  at  length  it  fell 
away  from  its  primitive  condition.  It  was  by  small 
beginnings  that  the  two  Romes  paved  their  way  to  the 
usurped  dominion  of  the  world. 

The  first  pastors  or  bishops  of  Rome  early  engaged 
in  the  conversion  of  the  villages  and  towns  around  the 
city.  The  necessity  which  the  bishops  aud  pastors  of 
the  Campagna  di  Roma  felt  of  recurring,  in  cases  of 
difficulty,  to  an  enlightened  guide,  and  the  gratitude 
which  they  owed  to  the  Church  of  the  metropolis,  led 
them  to  remain  in  close  union  with  it.  AV'hat  has 
always  been  seen  in  analogous  circumstances  was  seen 
here ;  this  natural  union  soon  degenerated  into  de- 
pendence. The  superiority  which  the  neighbouring 
churches  had  freely  yielded,  the  bishops  of  Rome  re- 
garded as  a  right.  The  encroachments  of  power  form 
one  large  part  of  history,  while  the  resistance  of  those 
v/hose  rights  were  invaded  forms  the  other.     Eccle- 


siastical power  could  not  escape  the  into.xication  which 
prompts  all  those  who  are  raised  to  aim  at  rising  still 
higher.     It  yielded  to  this  law  of  humanity  and  nature. 

Nevertheless,  the  supremacy  of  the  Roman  bishop 
was  at  this  time  limited  to  oversight  of  the  churches 
within  the  teri-itory  civilly  subject  to  the  prefect  of 
Rome.  But  the  rank  which  this  city  of  the  Emperors 
held  in  the  world,  presented  to  the  ambition  of  its  first 
pastor  a  larger  destiny.  The  respect  paid  in  the 
second  century  to  the  different  bishops  of  Christen- 
dom was  proportioned  to  the  rank  of  the'  city  in  which 
they  resided.  Now  Rome  was  the  greatest,'the  richest, 
and  the  most  powerful  city  in  the  world.  It  was  the 
seat  of  Empire, — the  mother  of  nations ;  '-All  the  in- 
habitants of  the  earth  belong  to  it,"  says  Julian ;  and 
Claudian  proclaims  it  '•  the  fountain  of  law." 

If  Rome  is  queen  of  the  cities  of  the  world,  why 
should  not  its  pastor  be  the  king  of  bishops  ?  AVhy 
should  not  the  Roman  Church  be  the  mother  of 
Christendom?  Why  should  not  the  nations  be  her 
children,  and  her  authority  their  sovereign  law  ?  It 
was  easy  for  the  ambitious  heart  of  man  to  reason  in 
this  way.     Ambitious  Rome  did  so. 

Thus  Pagan  Rome,  when  she  fell,  sent  the  proud 
titles  which  her  invincible  sword  had  conquered  from 
the  nations  of  the  earth  to  the  humble  minister  of  the 
God  of  peace  seated  amidst  her  ruins. 

The  bishops  in  the  different  quarters  of  the  empire, 
led  away  by  tlie  charm  which  Rome  had  for  ages 
exercised  over  all  nations,  followed  the  example  of  the 
Campagna  di  Roma,  and  lent  a  hand  to  this  work  of 
usurpation.  They  took  pleasure  in  paying  to  the 
Bishop  of  Rome  somewhat  of  the  honour  which  be- 
longed to  the  Queen  city  of  the  world.  At  first  there 
was  no  dependence  implied  in  this  honour.  They 
treated  the  Roman  pastor  as  equal  does  equal ;  but 
usurped  powers  grow  like  avalanches.  What  was  at 
first  mere  brotherly  advice,  soon  became,  in  the  mouth 
of  the  Pontiff,  obligatory  command.  In  his  eyes  a 
first  place  among  equals  was  a  throne. 

The  Western  bishops  favoured  the  designs  of  the 
pastors  of  Rome,  either  from  jealousy  of  the  Easterii 
bishops,  or  because  they  preferred  the  supremacy  of  a 
pope  to  the  domination  of  a  temporal  power. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  theological  factions  which 
rent  the  East  sought,  each  in  its  turn,  to  gain  the 
favour  of  Rome,  anticipating  their  triumph  from  the 
support  of  the  principal  Church  of  the  West. 

Rome  carefully  registered  these  requests,  these  media- 
tions, aud  smiled  when  she  saw  the  nations  throwing 
themselves  into  her  arms.  She  let  slip  no  occasion 
of  increasing  and  extending  her  power.  Praise,  flat- 
tery, extravagant  compliments,  consultation  by  other 
churches,  all  became,  in  her  eye,?,  and  in  her  hands, 
titles  and  evidents  of  her  authority.  Such  is  man  upon 
the  throne;  incense  intoxicates  him,  and  his  head  turns. 
What  he  has  he  regards  as  a  motive  to  strive  for 
more. 

Tiie  doctrine  of  the  Chiu'ch,  and  of  the  necessity  of 
her  external  unity,  which  began  to  prevail  so  early  as 
the  third  century,  favoured  the  pretensions  of  Rome. 
The  primary  idea  of  the  Church  is,  that  it  is  the  as- 
sembly of  the  saints,  (1  Cor.  i.  2.)  the  assembly  of  tiie 
first-born  whose  names  are  written  in  heaven,  (Heb. 


UNITY  OF  THE  CHURCH. 


xii.  2.1.)  Still,  however,  the  Church  of  the  Lord  is 
not  niori'ly  iiiteriml  uml  iiivisihle.  It  must  manifest 
itself  outwardly;  and  it  was  with  a  view  to  this  mani- 
festation that  the  Lord  instituted  the  Sacraments  of 
Uaptisin  and  the  Kucharist.  The  Church,  considered 
n.M  external,  has  characteristics  different  from  those 
which  distinguish  her  as  the  Church  invisilile.  The 
internal  Church,  whicli  is  the  body  of  Christ,  is 
necessarily  and  perpetually  one.  The  visible  Church, 
doubtless,"  has  part  in  this  unity,  but  considered  in  her- 
self, nndtiplicity  is  u  churactcrislio.  attributed  to  her 
in  the  Scriptures  of  the  New  Testament.  While  they 
speak  to  ns  i.f  a  Church  of  God,  they  mention,  when 
speakin-;  of  the  Church,  as  externally  manifested, 
••  the  Churches  of  Galatia,"  "the  Churches  of  Mace- 
donia," "  the  Churches  of  .Indea,"  "all  the  Churches 
of  the  .Saints."  These  ditYerent  Churches,  imques- 
tjonnbly.  may,  to  a  certain  extent,  cultivate  external 
union;  but  though  this  tie  be  wanting,  they  lose  none 
of  the  essential  qualities  of  the  Church  of  Clirist. 
lu  primitive  times,  the  great  tic  which  luiited  the 
members  of  the  Church  was  the  living  faith  of  the 
heart,  by  which  all  held  of  Christ  as  their  common 
Head. 

Various  circumstances  early  contributed  to  originate 
and  develop  the  idea  of  the  necessity  of  an  external 
unity.  Men  accustomed  to  the  ties  and  political  forms 
of  an  earthly  country,  transferred  some  of  their  views 
and  customs  to  the  spiritual  and  eternal  kingdom  of 
Jesus  Christ.  I'ersecutiou,  powerless  to  destroy,  or 
even  to  shake  this  new  society,  (U-cw  its  attention  more 
upon  itself,  and  caused  it  to  a.ssunic  the  form  of  a  more 
compact  incorporation.  To  the  error  which  sprinig 
up  in  deistical  schools,  or  among  sects,  was  opposed 
the  one  universal  truth  received  from  the  Ajjostles, 
and  preserved  in  the  Church.  This  was  well,  so  long 
as  the  invisible  and  spiritual  Church  w.is  one  with  the 
visible  and  external  Church.  But  a  serious  divorce  | 
soon  took  place  ;  the  form  and  the  life  separated  from 
Ciich  other.  The  semblance  of  an  identical  and  ex- 
ternal organization  wius  gradually  substituted  for  the 
internal  and  spiritual  unity  which  forms  the  essence  of 
genuine  religion.  The  precious  perfume  of  faith  was 
left  out,  and  then  men  prostrated  themselves  before 
the  empty  vase  which  h.nd  contained  it.  The  faith  of 
the  heart  no  longer  uniting  the  members  of  the  Church, 
another  tie  was  sought,  and  they  were  united  by  means 
of  bishops,  archbishops,  popes,  mitres,  ceremonies,  and 
canons.  The  living  Church  having  gradually  retired 
into  the  hidden  sanctuary  of  some  solitary  souls,  the 
external  Church  was  put  in  its  place,  and  declared  to 
he,  with  all  its  forms,  of  Divine  institution.  Salva- 
tion, no  longer  welling  up  from  the  henceforth  hidden 
Word,  it  wius  maintained  that  it  was  transmitted  by 
means  of  the  forms  which  had  been  devised,  anil  that 
no  man  could  possess  it  if  he  did  not  receive  it  through 
this  channel.  None,  it  was  said,  can  by  his  own 
faith  attain  to  eternal  life.  Christ  communicate<l 
to  the  Apostles,  and  the  Apostles  communicated 
to  the  Bishops,  the  unction  of  the  Holy  Spirit  ; 
and  this  Spirit  exists  nowhere  but  in  that  order ! 
Originally,  whosoever  had  the  Spirit  of  Jesus  Christ 
was  u  member  of  the  Church;  but  the  terms  were 
now  reversed,  and  it  was  maintained  that  none  but 


members  of  the  Church  received  the  Spirit  of  Jesus 
Christ.' 

In  proportion  as  these  ideas  gained  ground,  the  dis- 
tinction between  clergy  an<l  i)eople  became  more 
marked.  The  salvation  of  souls  no  longer  depended 
solely  on  faith  in  Christ,  but  also,  and  more  especially, 
on  union  with  the  Church.  The  representatives  and 
heads  of  the  Church  obtained  a  part  of  the  confidence 
due  only  to  Jesus  Christ,  and  in  fact  became  mediators 
for  the  Hock.  The  idea  of  the  luiiversal  j>riesthood  of 
Christians  accordingly  disapjieared  step  by  step ;  the 
servants  of  the  Church  of  Christ  were  likened  to  the 
priests  under  the  Old  Dispensation  ;  and  those  who 
separated  from  the  bishop  were  put  in  the  same  class 
with  Korah,  Dathaii.  and  Abirani.  From  an  indivi- 
dual priesthood,  such  as  was  then  formed  in  the 
Church,  to  a  sovereign  priesthood,  such  its  Rome  now 
claims,  the  step  wjis  easy. 

In  fact,  as  soon  as  the  error  as  to  the  necessity  of  a 
visible  imity  of  the  Church  was  established,  a  new 
error  was  seen  to  arise, — viz.,  that  of  the  necessity  of  an 
external  representative  of  this  unity. 

Although  we  nowhere  find  in  the  Gospel  any  traces 
of  a  pre-eminence  in  St.  Peter  over  the  other  Apostles; 
although  the  very  idea  of  primacy  is  opposed  to  the 
fraternal  relations  which  united  the  disciples,  and  even     I 
to  the  spirit  of  the  Gosi)el  dispensation,  which,  on  the     I 
contrary,  calls  upon  all  the  children  of  the  Father  to     | 
be   servants   one   to   another,    recognizing   one    only     | 
teacher,  and  one  only  chief ;  and  although  Jesus  Christ 
sliar|)ly  rebuked  His  disciples,  as   often   as  ambitious 
ideas  of  pre-eminence  arose  in  theii"  carnal  hearts,  men 
invented,  and  by  means  of  passages  of  Scripture  ill 
understood,  supported  a  primacy  in   St.  Peter;  and 
then  in  this  apostle,  and  his  pretended  successors  at 
Rome,  saluted   the  visible  representatives  of  visible 
unit}- — the  heads  of  the  Church  ! 

Tlie  patriarchal  constitution  also  contributed  to  the 
rise  of  the  Roman  Papacy.  So  early  as  the  three  first 
centuries,  the  churches  of  metropolitan  towns  had  en- 
joyed particular  respect.  The  Council  of  Nice,  in  its 
Sixth  Canon,  singled  out  three  cities,  whose  churches 
had,  according  to  it,  an  ancient  authority  over  those  of 
the  surrounding  provinces;  these  were,  Alexandria, 
Rome,  and  Antioch.  The  political  origin  of  this  dis- 
tinction is  betrayed  by  the  very  name  which  was  at 
first  given  to  the  bishop  of  these  cities.  He  was  called 
Exarch,  in  the  same  way  as  the  civil  governor.  At  a 
later  jicriod,  the  more  ecclesiastical  name  of  Patriarch 
wiis  given  to  him.  This  name  occurs  for  the  first  time 
in  the  Council  of  Constantinople,  but  in  a  different 
sense  from  that  which  it  received  at  a  later  period  ;  for 
it  was  only  a  short  time  before  the  Council  of  Chalce- 
don,  that  it  was  applied  exclusively  to  the  great  metro- 
politans. The  second  ecumenical  Council  created  a 
new  patriarchate,  that  of  Constantinople  itself,  the  new 
Rome,  the  second  capital  of  the  empire.  The  Church 
of  Byzantium,  so  long  in  obscm-ity,  enjoyed  the  same 
privileges,  and  was  put  by  the  Council  of  Chalcedon 
in  the"same  rank  as  the  Church  of  Rome.  Rome 
then  shared  the  patriarchate  with  these  three  churches; 
but  when  the  invasion  of  Mohammedanuihilated  the  sees 

1  Where  the  Chureh,  there  too  the  Spirit  of  Cod.  Where  the  Spirit  of 
Ood,  there  the  Chureh.— iKna-w. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


of  Alexandria  aud  Antioch — when  the  see  of  Constan- 
tinople decayed,  aud  later,  even  separated  from  the 
west,  Eome  remained  alone,  and  circumstances  rallied 
all  aronnd  her  see,  which  from  that  time  remained 
witho\it  a  rival. 

New  accomplices,  the  most  powerful  of  all  accom- 
plices, came  also  to  her  aid.  Ignorance  and  supersti- 
tion seized  upon  the  Church,  and  gave  her  up  to  Rome 
with  a  bandage  on  her  eyes,  and  chains  on  her  hands. 
Still  this  slavery  was  not  completed  without  opposi- 
tion. Often  did  the  voice  of  the  churches  protest 
their  independence :  this  bold  voice  was  heard  espe- 
cially in  proconsular  Africa  and  the  East.' 

But  Rome  found  new  allies  to  stifle  the  cry  of  the 
churches.  Princes,  whom  tempestuous  times  often 
caused  to  totter  on  the  throne,  offered  her  their  sup- 
port if  she  would  in  return  support  them.  They 
offered  her  spiritual  authority,  provided  she  would 
reinstate  them  in  secular  power.  They  gave  her  a 
cheap  bargain  of  souls,  in  the  hope  that  she  would 
help  them  to  a  cheap  bargain  of  their  enemies.  The 
hierarchical  power,  which  was  rising,  and  the  imperial 
power,  which  was  declining,  thus  supported  each  other, 
and,  by  this  alliance,  hastened  their  double  destiny. 

Here  Rome  could  not  be  a  loser.  An  edict  of  Theo- 
dosius  II.,  and  of  Valentinian  III.,  proclaimed  the 
Bishop  of  Rome  "  Rector  of  the  whole  Church."  Jus- 
tinian issued  a  similar  edict.  These  decrees  did  not 
contain  all  that  the  popes  pretended  to  see  in  them; 
but  in  those  times  of  ignorance  it  was  easy  for  them 
to  give  prevalence  to  the  interpretation  Avhich  was 
most  in  their  favour.  The  power  of  the  emperors  in 
Italy  becoming  always  more  precarious,  the  Bishojis 
of  Rome  failed  not  to  avail  themselves  of  the  circiuu- 
jtance  to  shake  off  their  dependence. 

But  energetic  promoters  of  the  Papal  power  had  by 
this  time  emerged  from  the  forests  of  the  North.  Tlie 
barbarians,  who  had  invaded  the  West,  and  there  fixed 
their  abode,  after  intoxicating  themselves  with  blood 
aud  rapine,  behoved  to  lower  their  fierce  sword  before 
the  intellectual  power  which  they  encountered.  Alto- 
gether ne^\'  to  Christianity,  ignorant  of  the  spiritual 
nature  of  the  Church,  and  requiring  in  religion  a  cer- 
tain external  show,  they  prostrated  themselves,  half 
savages,  and  half  Pagans,  before  the  High  Priest  of 
Rome.  With  them  the  West  wa.s  at  his  feet.  P^irst, 
the  Vandals,  then  the  Ostrogoths,  a  little  later  the 
Burgundians,  afterwards  the  Visigoths,  lastly,  the  Lom- 
bards and  Anglo-Saxons,  came  to  do  obeisance  to  the 
Roman  Pontiff'.  It  was  the  robust  shoulders  of  the 
sons  of  the  idolatrous  North  which  finished  the  work 
of  placing  a  pastor  of  the  banks  of  the  Tiber  on  the 
supreme  throne  of  Christendom. 

J  Cyprian,  Bishop  of  Carthage,  says  of  .St.  Stephen,  Bishop  of  Rome  :— 
"You  will  more  and  more  observe  the  error  of  him  who  is  trying  to  main- 
tAin  the  eause  of  iicretics  against  Christians  $nd  against  the  Church  of 
God  .  .  .  who  not  holding  the  unity  and  truth  which  come  by  the 
Divine  law.  .  .  .  Custom  without  tmtli  is  the  antiquity  of  error." 
.  .  .  Finuilian,  Bishop  of  Csesarea,  in  Cappadocia,  also  says  after  the 
middle  of  the  third  centurj-:— "  But  they  do  not  in  all  things  observe  what 
was  originally  delivered,  and  iu  vain  pretend  the  authority  of  the  Apostles. 
.  .  .  But  we  (the  Bishops  of  the  Churches  of  Asia,  more  ancient  than 
those  of  Rome)  to  truth  join  custom  also,  and  to  the  custom  of  the  Romans 
oppose  custom,  but  the  custom  of  trutli,  holding  from  the  beginning  what 
was  delivered  by  Christ  and  an  apostle."  Tliese  testimonies  are  of  great 
weight 


These  things  took  place  in  the  West  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  seventh  century,  precisely  at  the  same 
period  when  the  power  of  Mohammed,  ready  also  to  seize 
on  a  portion  of  the  globe,  was  rising  in  the  East. 

From  that  time  the  evil  ceases  not  to  grow.  In  the 
eighth  century  we  see  the  Bishops  of  Rome  with  one 
hand  repulsing  the  Greek  Emperors,  their  lawful  sove- 
reigns, and  seeking  to  chase  them  from  Italy;  while, 
with  the  other,  they  caress  the  Mayors  of  France,  and 
ask  this  new  power,  which  is  beginning  to  rise  in  the 
West,  for  a  share  iu  the  wrecks  of  the  empire.  Be- 
tween the  East,  which  she  repels,  and  the  West,  which 
she  invites,  Rome  establishes  her  usurped  authority. 
She  rears  her  throne  between  two  revolts.  Frightened 
at  the  cry  of  the  Arabs,  who,  become  masters  of  Spain, 
vaunt  that  they  will  soon  arrive  in  Italy  by  the  passes 
of  the  Pyrenees  and  the  Alps,  iind  proclaim  the  name 
of  Mohammed  on  the  seven  hills — amazed  at  the  auda- 
cious Astolphus,  who,  at  the  head  of  his  Lombards, 
sends  forth  his  lion-roar,  and  brandishes  his  sword 
Ijefore  the  gates  of  the  eternal  city,  threatening  mas- 
sacre to  every  Roman, — Rome,  on  the  brink  of  ruin, 
looks  around  in  terror,  and  throws  herself  into  the 
arms  of  the  Franks.  The  usurper  Pepin  asks  a  pre- 
tended sanction  to  his  new  royalty;  the  Papacy  gives 
it  to  him,  and  gets  him  in  return  to  declare  himself 
the  defender  of  the  "  Republic  of  God."  Pepin  wrests 
from  the  Lomb;u-ds  what  they  had  -vvi-ested  from  the 
emperor;  but,  instead  of  restoring  it  to  him,  he  deposits 
the  keys  of  the  towns  which  he  has  conquered  on  the 
altar  of  St.  Peter,  and,  swearing  with  uplifted  hand, 
declares  that  it  was  not  for  a  man  he  took  up  arms, 
but  to  obtain  the  forgiveness  of  his  sins  from  God,  and 
do  homage  to  St.  Peter  for  his  conquests. 

Charlemagne  appears.  The  first  time,  he  goes  iq)  to 
the  Cathedral  of  St.  Peter  devoutly  kissing  the  steps. 
AVhen  he  presents  himself  a  second  time,  it  is  as  mas- 
ter of  all  the  kingdoms  which  formed  the  empire  of  the 
West,  and  of  Rome  herself. 

Leo  HI.  deems  it  his  duty  to  give  the  title  to  him 
who  already  has  the  power;  and,  in  the  year  800,  at 
the  feast  of  Noel,  places  on  the  head  of  the  son  of 
Pepin  the  crown  of  the  Emperor  of  Rome.  From  that 
time  the  pope  belongs  to  the  empire  of  the  Franks,  and 
his  relations  with  tlie  East  are  ended.  He  detaches 
himself  from  a  rotten  tree,  which  is  about  to  fall,  in 
order  to  engraft  himself  on  ii  vigorous  wild  stock. 
Among  the  Germanic  races,  to  which  he  devotes  him- 
self, a  destiny  awaits  him  to  which  he  had  never  ven- 
tured to  aspire. 

Charlemagne  bequeathed  to  his  feeble  successor.-; 
only  the  wrecks  of  his  empire.  In  the  ninth  century, 
civil  power  being  everywhere  weakened  by  disunion, 
Rome  perceived  that  now  was  the  moment  f(5r  her  to 
lift  her  head.  When  could  the  C'hiu'ch  better  make 
herself  independent  of  the  State  than  at  this  period  of 
decline,  when  the  crown  which  Charles  wore  was 
broken,  and  its  fragments  lay  scattered  on  the  soil  of 
his  ancient  empire  ! 

At  this  time  the  spurious  Decretals  of  Isidore  ap-     j 
pearcd.     In  this  collection  of  pretended  decrees  of  the      < 
popes,  the  most  ancient  bishops,  the  eontemporai'ies  of      ' 
Tacitus  and  Quintilian,  spoke  the  barbarous  Latin  of 
the  ninth  century.     The  customs  and  constitutions  of 


DISORDERS  OF  ROME. 


the  Franks  were  gravely  attributed  to  the  Komans  of 
the  lime  of  the  tinpcrors ;  pojica  <|iiotc(l  the  Bible  iu 
the  Latin  trauslutiou  of  St.  Jeronu-.  who  lived  one,  two, 
or  three  contnrics  after  them  ;  and  Vielor.  ISislioi)  of 
Konio,  in  the  year  192,  wrote  lo  Tliooi>hihi;<.  who  was 
Arelibishop  of  Alexandria,  in  oiKi.  The  inijmstor, 
who  had  forged  this  eolleelion,  !<trove  to  make  out  that 
idl  the  bishops  derived  their  authority  from  the  Bi.sliop 
of  Rome,  who  derived  his  immediately  from  Jesus 
Christ.  Not  oidy  did  he  reeord  all  the  successive  con- 
quests of  the  ]Kintiffs,  but  he,  moreover,  earned  them 
back  to  the  remotest  ])eriods.  The  popes  were  not 
ashamed  to  avail  themselves  of  this  despicable  inven- 
tion. As  early  as  8G5,  Nicholas  I.  selected  it  as  his 
armour  to  combat  princes  and  bishops.  Tiiis  shame- 
less forgery  was  for  ages  the  arsenal  of  Rome. 

Nevertheless,  the  vices  and  crimes  of  the  ])outiffs 
were  for  some  time  to  suspend  the  effects  of  the  De- 
cretals. The  Papacy  celebrates  its  admission  to  tlie 
tabic  of  kings  by  shameful  libatious:  it  proceeds  lo 
intoxicate  itself,  and  its  head  turns  amidst  the  debauch. 
It  is  about  this  time  that  tradition  places  upon  the 
Pupal  throne  n  damsel  named  Josui,  who  had  Hed  to 
Rome  with  her  lover;  and,  being  taken  in  lalwur,  be- 
trayed her  SOX  in  the  middle  of  a  solemn  procession. 
Hut  let  us  not  unnecessarily  aggravate  the  disgrace  of 
the  Court  of  the  Ronuiu  Pontiffs.  Abandoned  females 
did  reign  in  Rome  at  this  period.  A  throne,  which 
pretended  to  exalt  itself  above  the  majesty  of  kings, 
grovelled  in  the  n\ire  of  vice,  Theodora  and  Miu'ozia, 
at  will,  iusttdlcd  and  deposed  the  pretended  blasters  of 
the  Church  of  Christ,  and  placed  upon  the  throne  of 
Peter  their  paramours,  their  sons,  and  their  grand- 
sons. These  scandalous  proceedings,  which  are  but 
loo  trne,  perhaps,  gave  rise  to  the  tradition  of  Poper^s 
Joiui, 

Rome  becomes  a  vast  theatre  of  disorder,  on  which 
the  most  powerfid  families  in  Italy  contend  for  ascend- 
ancy— the  Counts  of  Tuscany  usually  proving  victo- 
rious. In  1033,  this  house  dares  to  place  upon  the 
pontifical  throne,  under  the  uame  of  Benedict  the 
Ninth,  a  young  boy  brought  up  iu  debauchery.  This 
child  of  twelve,  when  pope,  continues  his  ineffable 
turpitude,  A  faction  elects  Sylvester  in  his  stead,  and 
at  length  Pope  Benedict,  with  a  conscience  loaded  with 
adultery,  ami  a  hand  dyed  with  the  blood  of  murders,' 
sells  the  jwpedom  to  an  ecclesiastic  of  Rome. 

The  Eni])erors  of  Gernmny,  indignant  at  >o  many 
disorders,  cleansed  Rome  wilh  the  sword.  The  em- 
pire, exercising  its  rights  of  superiority,  drew  the 
triple  crown  out  of  the  mire  into  which  it  hail  fallen, 
and  saved  the  degraded  po|)edom  by  gi\  ing  it  decent 
men  for  heads.  Henry  III.,  in  1040,  deposed  three 
popes;  and  his  linger,  adorned  with  the  ring  of  the 
Roman  Patricians,  pointe<l  out  the  bishoj)  to  whom  the 
keys  of  the  confes.-ion  of  St.  Peter  were  to  be  remilted. 
Four  popes,  all  Gennans,  and  nominated  by  the  em- 
peror, succeeded  each  other.  AVIun  the  pontiff  of 
Rome  died,  deputies  from  that  Church  appeared  at  the 
imperial  court,  like  the  envoys  from  fither  ilioceses,  to 
retjuest  a  new  bishop.  The  emperor  was  even  glad 
to  see  the  pope  reforming  abuses,  strengthening  the 

t  Boniiu,  BUli.ip  of  Sutri.  TbeoplijrUct,  (Benedict,)  anvr  ni.iny  adaltcrics, 
llul  nwiiy  niuiJiW  iKryctritcd  by  liU  own  hand. 


Church,  holding  councils,  inducting  and  deposing  pre- 
lates, in  spite  of  foreign  monarchs ;  the  Papacy,  by 
these  pretensions,  only  exalted  the  jujwer  of  the  em- 
])eror,  its  liege  lord.  But  tliere  was  great  danger  in 
allowing  such  games  to  lie  played.  The  strength 
which  the  popes  were  thus  resinning,  by  degrees, 
might  be  turned,  all  at  ouce,  against  the  emperor  him- 
self. When  the  viper  recovered,  it  might  sting  the 
bosom  which  warmed  it.  This  was  what  actually 
happened. 

Here  a  new  epoch  in  the  Papacy  begins.  It  starts 
up  from  its  humiliation,  and  soon  has  the  princes  of 
the  earth  at  its  feet.  To  exalt  it  is  to  c.xalt  the  Church, 
is  to  aggrandize  religion,  is  to  secure  to  the  mind  its 
victory  over  the  flesh,  and  to  God  His  triumph  over 
the  world.  These  are  its  maxims,  and  iu  these  ambi- 
tion finds  its  profit,  fanaticism  its  excuse. 

The  whole  of  this  new  tendency  is  personified  iu  one 
man. — Hildebraud. 

Ilildebrand,  by  tiu'iis  unduly  extolled  or  unjustly 
stigmatized,  is  the  personification  of  the  Roman  ponti- 
ficate in  its  jiower  and  glory.  He  is  one  of  those  mas- 
ter spirits  of  history  which  contain  in  them  an  entire 
order  of  new  things,  similar  to  those  presented  in  other 
spheres  by  Charlemagne,  Luther,  and  Napoleon. 

Leo  IX.  look  up  this  monk  iu  passing  through 
Clugny,  and  carried  him  to  Rome.  From  that  time 
Ilildebrand  was  the  soul  of  the  popedom,  until  he  be- 
came the  popedom  itself.  He  governed  the  Church  iu 
the  name  of  several  pontiffs  before  his  own  reign  under 
that  of  Gregory  Vll.  One  great  idea  took  jiossession 
of  this  great  genius.  He  wichcs  to  found  a  visible 
theocracy,  of  which  the  pofjc,  as  vicar  of  Jesus  Clu-ist, 
will  be  head.  The  remembrance  of  the  ancient  univer- 
sal dominion  of  Pagan  Rome  haunts  his  imagination, 
and  animates  his  zeal.  He  wishes  to  restore  to  Papal 
Rome  all  that  the  Rome  of  the  Emperors  had  lost. 
••  What  Marias  and  Cicsar,"  said  his  flatterers,  "could 
not  do  by  torrents  of  blood,  thou  performest  by  a 
word." 

Gregory  VII.  was  not  led  by  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord. 
To  this  Spirit  of  truth,  humility,  and  meekness,  he  w.is 
a  stranger.  He  sacrificed  what  he  knew  to  be  true 
when  he  judged  it  necessary  to  his  designs.  In  parti- 
cidar,  he  did  so  in  the  aft'air  of  Berenger.  But  a  spirit 
far  superior  to  that  of  the  common  run  of  pontiffs,  a 
deep  conviction  of  the  justice  of  his  cau^^e,  undoubtedly 
ilid  animate  him.  Bold,  ambitious,  and  inflexible  in 
his  designs,  he  was.  at  the  same  time,  dexteroas  and 
supple   in  the  employment  of  means  to   ensure  their 

His  first  labour  was  to  embody  the  militia  of  the 
Chiu:ch.  for  he  behoved  to  make  himself  strong  before 
he  att.tcked  the  empire.  A  Coiuicil  held  at  Rome  cut 
oft"  pastors  from  their  families,  and  obliged  them  to  be- 
long entirely  lo  the  hierarchy.  The  law  of  celibacy, 
conceived  and  executed  uiuUr  i)opes  who  were  them- 
selves monks,  cluinged  the  clergy  into  a  kind  of  monas- 
tic order.  Gregory  VII.  pretended  to  have  over  all  the 
bishops  anil  priests  of  Christendom  the  same  power 
which  an  abbot  of  Clugny  had  over  the  order  over 
which  he  presided.  The  legates  of  Ilildebrand,  com- 
paring themselves  to  the  proconsuls  of  ancient  Rome, 
traversed  the  provinces  to  deprive  pastors  of  their  law- 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


fill  -wives ;  and  if  need  were,  the  pope  himself  stirred 
up  the  populace  against  married  miuisters.' 

But  Gregory's  main  purpose  was  to  shake  Rome 
free  of  the  empire.  This  bold  design  he  never  would 
have  ventured  to  conceive,  had  not  the  dissensions 
wliich  troubled  tlie  minority  of  Henry  IV.,  and  tlie 
revolt  of  the  German  princes,  favoured  its  execution. 
The  pope  was  then  like  one  of  the  grandees  of  the 
empire.  Making  common  cause  with  the  other  great 
vassals,  he  forms  a  party  in  tlie  aristocratic  interest, 
and  then  forbids  all  ecclesiastics,  under  pain  of  excom- 
munication, to  receive  iuvestitiu-e  to  their  benefices 
from  the  Emperor.  He  breaks  the  ancient  ties  which 
unite  churches  and  their  pastors  to  the  authority  of  the 
prince ;  but  it  is  to  yoke  all  of  them  to  the  pontifical 
throne.  His  aim  is  by  a  iiowerful  hand  to  enchain 
priests,  kings,  and  people,  and  make  the  pope  a  univer- 
sal monarch.  It  is  Rome  alone  that  every  priest  must 
fear,  iu  Rome  alone  tliat  he  must  hope.  The  kingdoms 
and  princedoms  of  the  earth  are  his  domain ;  and  all 
kings  must  tremble  before  tlie  thunder  of  the  Jupiter 
of  modern  Rome.  Woe  to  liim  who  resists  !  Subjects 
are  loosed  from  their  oath  of  allegiance,  the  whole 
country  is  smitten  with  interdict,  all  worship  ceases, 
the  churches  are  shut,  and  their  bells  are  mute ;  tlie 
sacraments  are  no  longer  administered,  and  the  word 
of  malediction  reaches  even  to  the  dead,  to  whom  the 
earth,  at  the  bidding  of  a  haughty  jiontiif,  refuses  the 
peace  of  the  tomb. 

The  pope,  who  had  been  subject  from  the  earliest 
days  of  his  existence,  first  to  the  Roman  Emperors, 
then  to  the  Frank  Emperors,  and,  lastly,  to  the  German 
Emperors,  was  now  emancipated,  and  walked,  for  the 
first  time,  their  equal,  if  not,  indeed,  their  master. 
Gregory  VIT.  was,  however,  humbled  in  his  turn ; 
Rome  was  taken,  and  Hildebrand  obliged  to  flee.  He 
died  at  Salerno,  saying,  "  I  have  loved  righteousness 
and  hated  iniquity,  therefore  die  I  in  exile."  Words 
thus  uttered  at  the  portals  of  the  grave  who  will  jire- 
sume  to  charge  with  hypocrisy? 

The  successors  of  Gregory,  like  soldiers  who  arrive 
after  a  great  victory,  tlu-ew  themselves,  as  conquerors, 
on  the  subjugated  churches.  Spain,  rescued  from 
Islamism,  Prussia,  delivered  from  idols,  fell  into  the 
liands  of  the  crowned  priest.  The  crusades,  which 
were  undertaken  at  his  bidding,  everyivliere  widened 
and  increased  his  authority.  Those  pious  pilgi-ims, 
who  had  thought  they  saw  saints  and  angels  guiding 
their  armies,  and  who,  after  humbly  entering  the  walls 
of  Jerusalem  barefoot,  burned  the  Jews  in  their  syna- 
gogue, and,  with  the  blood  of  thousands  of  Saracens, 
deluged  the  spots  to  which  they  had  come,  seeking  the 
sacred  footsteps  of  the  Prince  of  Peace,  carried  the 
name  of  pope  into  the  East,  where  it  had  ceased  to  be 
known  from  the  time  when  lie  abandoned  the  supre- 
macy of  the  Greeks  for  that  of  the  Franks. 

On  the  other  hand,  what  the  armies  of  the  Roman 
republic  and  of  the  empire  had  not  been  able  to  do, 
the  power  of  the  Church  accomplished.  The  Germans 
brought  to  the  feet  of  a  bisliop  the  tribute  which  their 
ancestors  had  refused  to  the  most  powerful  generals. 

1  Tliesc,  wlicrcver  they  ajipcnr,  are  subjected  to  insulting  cries,  to  pointed 
lingers,  and  to  blows.  Some  are  mutilated,  otliera  by  long  tortures  cruelly 
eUiin.—Marlcne  cl  Btimhd. 


Their  princes,  on  becoming  emperors,  thought  they  had 
received  a  crown  from  the  popes ;  but  the  popes  had 
given  them  a  yoke.  The  kingdoms  of  Christendom, 
previously  subjected  to  the  spii'itual  power  of  Rome, 
now  became  its  tributaries  and  serfs. 

Thus  every  thing  in  the  Church  is  changed. 
.  At  first  it  was  a  community  of  brethren,  and  now 
an  absolute  monarchy  is  established  in  its  bosom.  All 
Cliristians  were  priests  of  the  living  God,  (1  Peter 
ii.  9,)  with  humble  pastors  for  their  guides;  but  a 
proud  head  has  risen  up  in  the  midst  of  these  pastors, 
a  mysterious  mouth  utters  language  full  of  haughtiness, 
a  hand  of  iron  constrains  .all  men,  both  small  and  gi'eat, 
rich  and  poor,  bond  and  slave,  to  take  the  stamp  of  its 
power.  The  holy  and  primitive  equality  of  souls  before 
God  is  lost;  and  Christendom,  at  the  bidding  of  a  mau, 
is  divided  into  two  unequal  camps, — in  tlie  one,  a  caste 
of  priests  who  dare  to  usurp  the  name  of  Church,  and 
pretend  to  be  invested  in  the  eyes  of  the  Lord  with 
high  privileges, — in  the  other,  servile  herds  reduced 
to  blind  and  passive  submission,  a  people  gagged  and 
swaddled,  and  given  over  to  a  proud  caste.  Every 
tribe,  language,  and  nation  of  Christendom,  fall  under 
the  domination  of  this  spiritual  king,  who  lius  received 
power  to  conquer. 


CHAPTER  II. 

t;racc-n,  ad  Faith-Works-Unity  an.l  Duality— Pelagianisiil— Salvation 
at  tlic  Iianils  of  Priests— Penances— Flagellations— Indulgences— Works 
of  Supererogation — Purgatory— Taxation — Jubilee— The  Papacy  and 
Cliristiauity-Statc  of  Cliristendom. 

But,  along  with  the  principle  which  should  rule  the 
liistory  of  Christianity,  was  one  which  should  rule  its 
doctrine.  The  grand  idea  of  Cliristianity  was  the  idea 
of  grace,  pardon,  amnesty,  and  the  gift  of  eternal  life. 
This  idea  supposed  in  man  an  estrangement  from  God, 
and  an  impossibility  mi  ][\>  \y.n-t  to  re-enter  into  com- 
munion with  a  Bciiiu'  "f  inliiiito  holiness.  The  oppo.'^i- 
tion  between  true  iiinl  r:il-i'  il"iiriiic  cannot,  it  is  true, 
be  entirely  summed  u])  in  tlie  (juestion  of  salvation 
by  faith,  and  salvation  by  works.  Still  it  is  its  most 
prominent  feature,  or  rather,  salvation  considered  as 
coming  from  man  is  the  crenting  principle  of  all  error 
and  all  abuse.  The  excesses  ih^hIuciiI  liy  this  funda- 
mental error  led  to  the  Refonniiiioii.  :iiiil  the  profession 
of  a  contrary  principle  achii'\ cd  it.  This  feature  must 
stand  prominently  out  in  an  introduction  to  the  history 
of  the  Reformation.  Salvation  by  gi-ace,  then,  is  the 
second  characteristic  which  essentially  distinguished 
the  religion  of  God  from  all  human  religions.  AMiat 
had  bec'ome  of  it?  Had  the  Church  kept  this  gi-eat 
and  primordial  idea  as  a  ])recious  deposit?  Let  us 
follow  its  history. 

The  inhabitants  of  Jerusalem,  Asia,  Greece,  and 
Rome,  in  the  days  of  tin-  first  emperors,  heard  the  glad 
tidin.L'>.  "By  ^jr.-xr  ;irc  ye  saved  through  faith — it  is 
the  uill  nl  ( ;..il.'  (  I",|.1m  ~.  ii.  8.)  At  this  voice  of  peace 
■ — at  tlii>  i_'o>|nl  ai  tlii-  powerful  word — many  guilty 
souls  believing  were   brought  near  to  Him  who  is  the 


PELAGIANISM. 


source  of  pence,  nnd  numerous  Christiiiu  churches  were 
fornicil  in  llie  midst  of  tiio  corrupt  generation  tlicn 
existing. 

But  II  grout  misii]>iirehi'n>iou  soon  iirose  as  to  the 
nature  of  saving  failli.  l''aitii.  acconling  to  St.  I'anl, 
is  the  means  l>y  ^\  iiich  llic  « liulo  being  of  the  believer 
— his  intellect,  his  heart,  ami  his  will — enter  into  |)ob- 
sessiou  of  the  salvation  which  the  incarnation  of  the 
Son  of  (.lod  has  purchased  for  him.  Jesus  Christ  is 
apprehended  by  failh,  and  thenceforth  becomes  every 
thing  for  man,  nnd  in  man.  He  imparls  a  divine  life 
til  Innnan  nature;  and  man,  thus  renewed,  disengaged 
from  the  power  of  sellishness  and  sin,  has  iu"w  affec- 
tions, nnd  does  new  works.  Faith  (says  Theology,  in 
order  to  ex]n-ess  tliese  ideius)  is  the  sulijoctivc  appro- 
priation of  the  objective  work  of  Christ.  If  faith  is 
not  an  appropriation  of  salvation,  it  is  nothing;  tlie 
whole  Christian  economy  is  disturbed,  the  sources  of 
new  life  are  sealed  up,  and  Christianity  is  overturned 
ut  itd  base. 

Such  was  the  actual  result.  The  practical  view  be- 
ing gradually  forgotten,  faith  soon  became  nothing 
more  than  what  it  still  is  to  many, — an  act  of  the  under- 
standing— a  simijle  submission  to  superior  authority. 

This  lirst  error  ucecss!U"i!y  led  to  a  second.  Faith 
V)eing  stripped  of  its  practical  character,  could  not 
possibly  be  said  to  save  iilone.  AVorks  no  longer  com- 
ing after  it,  behoved  to  be  jdaced  beside  it :  and  the 
doctrine  that  man  is  justified  by  faith  and  by  works 
gained  a  footing  in  the  Church.  To  the  Christian 
unity,  which  includes,  under  the  same  principle,  justi- 
fication and  works,  grace  and  law,  doctrine  and  duty, 
succeeded  the  sad  duality,  which  nuikes  religion  aiid 
morality  to  be  quite  distinct, — a  fatal  error,  which 
separates  things  that  cannot  live  unless  united,  and 
which,  putting  the  soul  on  one  side,  and  the  body  on 
the  other,  causes  death.  The  words  of  the  Apostle. 
echoing  through  all  ages,  are, — "Having  begun  in  the 
Spirit,  are  ve  now  made  perfect  by  the  flesh?"  (Gal. 
iii.  3.) 

Another  great  error  arose  to  disturb  the  doctrine  of 
grace.  This  was  Pelagianisni.  Pclagius  maintained 
that  human  nature  is  not  fallen — that  there  is  no  here- 
ditary corruption— nnd  that  man,  having  received  the 
power  of  doing  good,  has  only  to  will  it  in  order  to 
perform  it.'  If  goodness  consists  in  certain  external 
nctions,  Pelagius  is  right.  But  if  we  look  to  the 
motives  from  which  those  external  actions  proceed,  we 
find  in  every  part  of  man  selfishness,  forgetfulness  of 
God,  pollution,  and  powerlessness.  The  Pelagian  doc- 
trine, driven  back  from  the  Church  by  Augustiiu>, 
>yhen  it  advanced  with  open  front,  soon  presented  a 
side  ^•iew  in  the  shape  of  semi-Pelagianism,  and  under 
the  mask  of  Augustinian  fonunhc.  This  heresy  spread 
over  Christendom  with  astonishing  rapidity.  The 
danger  of  the  system  ajipeared,  above  all.  in  this — by 
placing  goodness,  not  within,  but  without,  it  caused  a 
great  value  to  be  set  on  extcrniil  works,  on  legal  ob- 
servances, and  acts  of  penance.  The  more  of  these 
men  did,  the  holier  they  were ;  they  won  heaven  by 
them ;  and  individu.als  were  soon  seen  (a  very  astonish- 
ing circumstance,  certainly)  who  went  farther  in  holi- 


l  To  will  and  to  be  I 


fountain  of  five  will— r«tas;ii 


properties  or  man,  because  tlicy  spring  from  the 


nes3  than  was  required.  Pelagianisni,  at  the  same 
time  that  it  corrupted  doclrine.  strengthened  the  liier- 
nrchy ;  with  the  same  hand  with  which  it  lowered  grace 
it  elevated  the  Church ;  for  grace  is  of  God,  and  tho 
Church  is  of  man. 

The  deeper  our  conviction  that  the  whole  world  is 
guilty  before  God,  the  more  will  we  cleave  to  Jesus 
Christ  as  the  luily  source  of  grace.  With  such  a  view, 
how  can  we  jjlace  the  Church  on  a  level  with  Him, 
since  she  is  nothing  but  the  whole  body  of  persons  sub- 
ject to  the  same  natural  misery  ?  But  so  soon  as  we 
attribute  to  nuni  a  holiness  of  his  own,  all  is  changed, 
and  eeclcsiastics  and  monks  become  the  most  natural 
inediuin  of  receiving  the  grace  of  Ciod.  This  was  what 
happened  after  Pelagius.  Salvation,  taken  out  of  the 
hands  of  God.  fell  into  the  hands  of  pria<ts,  who  put 
themselves  in  the  Lord's  ])lace.  Souls  thirsting  for 
pardon  liehoved  no  longer  to  look  towards  heaven,  but 
towards  the  Church,  :uid,  above  all,  towards  its  pre- 
tended head.  To  blinded  minds  the  Pontiff  of  Rome 
was  instead  of  God.  Hence  the  greatness  of  the  popes 
and  indescribable  abuses.  The  evil  went  farther  still. 
Pelagianisni,  in  maintaining  tliat  man  may  attain  per- 
fect sanctification.  pretended,  likewise,  tluit  the  nierit^j 
of  saints  and  martyrs  miglit  be  ajiplied  to  the  Church. 
A  particular  virtue  was  even  ascribed  to  their  interces- 
sion. The}-  were  addressed  in  ])raycr,  their  aid  was 
invoked  in  all  the  trials  of  life,  and  a  real  idolatry  sup- 
planted the  adoration  of  the  true  and  living  God. 

Pelagianisni.  at  the  same  time,  multiplied  rites  and 
ceremonies.  Mim,  imagining  that  he  could,  and  that 
he  ought,  by  good  works,  to  render  himself  worthy  of 
grace,  saw  nothing  better  fitted  to  merit  it  than  out- 
ward worship.  The  law  of  ceremonies  becoming  end- 
lessly complicated,  was  soon  held  equal  at  least  to  the 
moral  law;  and  thus  the  conscience  of  Christians  was 
burdened  anew  with  ;i  yoke  which  had  been  declared 
intolerable  in  the  times  of  the  apostles.  (Acts  xv.  10.) 

But  what  most  of  all  deformed  Christianity,  was  the 
system  of  penance  which  rose  out  of  Pelagianisni. 
Penance  at  first  consisted  in  certain  public  signs  of 
repentance,  which  the  Church  required  of  those  whom 
she  had  excluded  for  scandal,  and  who  were  desirous 
of  being  again  received  into  her  bosom. 

By  degrees,  penance  was  extended  to  .ill  sins,  even 
the  most  secret,  and  was  considered  as  a  kind  of 
ch.istisemcnt  to  which  it  was  necessary  to  submit,  in 
order  to  acquire  the  pardon  of  God  through  the  abso- 
lution of  prie.«ts. 

Ecclesiastical  penance  was  thus  confounded  with 
Christian  repentance,  without  which  there  cannot  be 
either  justification  or  sanctification. 

Instead  of  expecting  pardon  from  Christ  only  by 
faith,  it  was  expected  chiefly  from  the  Church  by 
works  of  penance. 

Great  importance  v/as  attached  to  the  outward  marks 
of  repentance — tears,  fastings,  and  macerations;  while 
the  internal  renewal  of  the  heart,  which  alone  consti- 
tutes true  conversion,  was  forgotten. 

As  confession  and  works  of  penance  are  easier  than 
the  extirpation  of  sin,  and  the  .abandonment  of  vice, 
many  ceased  to  struggle  against  the  lusts  of  the  flesh, 
deeming  it  better  to  supply  their  place  by  means  of 
certain  macerations. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


"Works  of  peuauce,  substituted  in  lieu  of  the  salva- 
tion of  Goil,  kept  multiplying  in  the  C'hureh  from  the 
days  of  Tertulliau,  in  the  third  century.  The  thing 
now  deemed  necessary  was  to  fast,  go  barefoot,  and 
wear  no  linen,  &c.,  or  to  quit  house  and  home  for  dis- 
tant lands ;  or,  better  stiU,  to  renounce  the  world  and 
embrace  the  monastic  state ! 

To  all  this  were  added,  in  the  eleventh  century, 
voluntary  flagellations.  These,  at  a  later  period,  be- 
came a  real  mania  in  Ital}-,  which  at  that  time  was 
violently  agitated.  Nobles  and  peasants,  young  and 
old,  even  children  of  five,  go  two-aud-two  by  hundreds, 
thousands,  and  tens  of  thousands,  through  villages, 
towns,  and  cities,  with  an  apron  tied  round  their  waist, 
(their  only  clothing.)  and  visit  the  churches  in  proces- 
sion in  the  dead  of  winter.  Armed  with  a  whip,  they 
flagellate  themselves  without  mercy,  and  the  streets 
resound  with  cries  and  groans,  such  as  to  force  tears 
from  those  who  liear  them. 

Still,  long  before  the  evil  had  reached  this  height, 
men  felt  the  oi^pression  of  the  priests,  and  sighed  for 
deliverance.  The  priests  themselves  had  perceived, 
that  if  they  did  not  apply  a  remedy,  their  usurped 
power  would  be  lost;  and,  therefore,  they  invented  the 
system  of  barter,  so  well  known  under  the  name  of 
Indulgences.  "What  they  said  was  this  :  "  You  peni- 
tents arc  not  able  to  fulfll  the  tasks  which  are  enjoined 
you?  "Well,  then,  we — priests  of  God,  and  your 
pastors — will  take  the  heavy  burden  on  ourselves." 
"For  a  fast  of  seven  weeks,"  saj'S  Eegino,  Abbot  of 
Prum,  "  there  will  be  i)aid  by  a  rich  man  tweutypenco, 
by  one  less  so  tenpence,  by  the  poor  tlireepence,  and 
so  on  in  like  proportion  for  other  things."  Bold  voices 
were  raised  against  this  traffic,  but  in  vain. 

The  pope  soon  discovered  the  advantages  which  he 
might  draw  from  these  indulgences.  In  the  thirteenth 
century,  Alexander  Hales,  the  irrefragable  doctor,  in- 
vented a  doctrine  well  fitted  to  secm'e  this  vast  re- 
source to  the  Papacy,  and  a  bull  of  Clement  VII. 
declared  it  an  article  of  faith.  Jesus  Clu-ist,  it  was 
said,  did  far  more  than  was  necessary  to  reconcile  God 
to  men, — for  that  a  single  drop  of  His  blood  would 
have  sulRced ;  but  He  shed  much  blood,  in  order  to 
found  a  treasury  for  His  Chiu'ch. — a  treasury  which 
even  eternity  should  not  be  able  to  exhaust.  The 
supererogatory  merits  of  the  saints — /.  c,  the  value  of 
the  works  which  they  did  1)eyond  their  obligation — 
served  also  to  augment  this  tri-;i>iiry.  tlic  custody  and 
administration  of  which  have  ln'cn  ciilni-ird  to  Christ's 
vicar  upon  earth,  who  applies  (■>  cnh -iiiiier,  for  the 
faults  committed  after  baptism,  tliL-e  laerits  of  Jesus 
Christ  and  the  saints,  according  to  the  measure  and 
quantity  which  his  sins  render  necessary.  "Who  will 
venture  to  attack  a  practice  whose  origin  is  so  holy? 

This  inconceivable  traffic  soon  extends,  and  becomes 
more  complex.  The  philosophers  of  Alexandria  speak 
of  a  fire  in  which  souls  are  to  be  made  pure.  This 
jjhilosophical  opinion,  which  several  ancient  doctors 
had  adopted,  Rome  declared  to  be  a  doctrine  of  the 
Chm-ch.  The  pope,  by  a  bull,  annexed  purgatory  to 
his  domain.  He  decreed  that  man  should  there  ex- 
piate what  he  might  not  be  able  to  expiate  here  below, 
but  that  indulgences  could  deliver  souls  from  that 
intermediate  state  in  which  their  sins  must  otherwise 


detain  them.  This  dogma  is  expoimded  by  Thomas 
Aquinas  in  his  famous  theological  Summa.  Nothing 
was  spared  to  fill  the  mind  with  terror.  The  torments 
which  the  purifj-ing  fire  inflicts  on  those  who  become 
its  victims  were  painted  in  dreadful  colours.  Even  at 
the  present  day,  in  many  Catholic  countries,  we  sec 
pictures  exhibited  in  churches,  or  in  the  public  streets, 
in  which  poor  souls  in  the  midst  of  burning  flames  are 
calling  in  agony  for  relief.  "Who  could  refuse  the  re- 
demption-money which,  on  falling  into  the  treasury  of 
Rome,  was  to  ransom  the  soul  from  such  sufferings  ? 

In  order  to  give  regularity  to  this  traffic,  there  was 
shortly  after  drawn  up  (probably  by  John  XXII.) 
the  famous  and  scandalous  taxation  of  indulgences,  of 
which  there  have  been  more  than  forty  editions. 

Ears  the  least  delicate  would  be  offended  were  we  to 
repeat  all  the  horrible  tilings  contained  in  it. 

Incest  will  cost,  if  it  is  not  known,  live  groscheu  ; 
if  known,  six.  So  much  will  be  paid  for  murder,  so 
much  for  infanticide,  adultery,  perjmy,  house-break- 
ing, &c.  "Shame  upon  Rome!"  exclaims  Claudius 
Esperse,  a  Roman  theologian;  and  we  add,  Shame 
upon  human  nature ! — for  we  cannot  reproach  Rome 
with  anything  which  does  not  recoil  upon  man  himself. 
Rome  is  humanity  magnified  in  some  of  its  evil  pro- 
pensities. "We  say  this  for  the  sake  of  truth,  and  ivc 
also  say  it  for  the  sake  of  justice. 

Boniface  "VTII.,  the  boldest  and  most  ambitious  cf 
the  popes  after  Gregory  VII.,  outstripped  all  his  i)ro- 
decessors. 

In  the  year  1300  he  published  a  bull,  by  which  he 
announced  to  the  Church,  that  every  hundred  years  all 
persons  repairing  to  Rome  would  there  obtain  a  plenary 
indulgence.  Crowds  flocked  from  Italy,  Sicily,  Sar- 
dinia, Corsica,  France,  Spain,  Germany,  Hungary,  and 
all  quarters.  Old  men  of  sixty  and  "seventy  set  out ; 
and  there  was  counted  at  Rome  in  one  mouth  to  tlie 
number  of  two  hundred  thousand  pUgrims.  All  these 
sti-angers  bringing  rich  offerings,  the  pope  and  the 
Romans  saw  their  treasury  filled. 

Roman  avarice  soon  fixed  each  jubilee  at  fifty  years, 
next  at  thirty-three,  and  at  last  at  twenty-five.  Then, 
for  the  greater  convenience  of  buyers,  and  the  greater 
profit  of  sellers,  the  jubilee  and  its  indulgences  were 
transported  from  Rome  to  all  parts  of  Christendom. 
There  was  no  occasion  to  leave  home.  "What  others 
had  gone  to  seek  beyond  the  Alps,  each  might  purchase 
at  his  own  door. 

The  evil  could  not  go  further. 

Then  the  Reformer  arose. 

"We  formerly  saw  what  became  of  the  principle  which 
shoidd  rule  the  history  of  Christianity,  and  we  lun  c 
now  seen  what  became  of  that  which  should  rule  its 
doctrine — both  were  lost. 

To  establish  a  mediating  caste  between  man  and 
God,  and  insist  that  the  salvation  which  God  gives 
shall  be  purchased  by  works,  penances,  and  money,  is 
the  Papacy. 

To  give  to  all  by  Jesus  Christ  without  a  human 
mediator,  and  without  that  power,  which  is  called  the 
Church,  free  access  to  the  great  gift  of  eternal  life. 
which  God  bestows  on  man,  is  Christianity  and  the 
Reformation. 

The  Papacy  is  au  immense  wall  raised  between  man 


CHURCH  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES. 


ami  God  by  the  lubuur  of  m^io.-".  A\liosoever  would 
)iiii^s  it  must  lay  liis  nccouiit  ^vitll  paying  or  .sufToring. 
Aiul  yet  will  it  not  bo  pa«.sod  .' 

The  Itofornuilion  is  the  |i(i\vit  which  threw  down 
this  wall,  rojtcirod  Christ  to  man,  and  Icvelli-d  tlio 
path  by  wliicli  hi-  may  conic  to  liis  Creator. 

The  I'upacy  interposes  the  Church  between  God  and 
man.  Christianity  and  the  Hefornialion  make  them 
nuH't  face  to  face.  The  Papacy  seiiaratcs — the  Ciospel 
unites  them. 

llaviii";  thus  traced  the  historj*  of  the  decay  and  ex- 
tinction of  the  two  p-eat  i>rinciplcs  whicii  distin^^uish 
the  religion  of  God  from  all  the  religions  of  man.  let 
us  attend  to  some  of  the  results  of  this  vast  alteration. 

First,  however,  let  us  i>ay  some  tribute  of  res|)ect  to 
this  Ciuirch  of  the  middle  ages  which  succeeded  that  of 
the  AiH)sllcs  and  FathorB,  and  preceded  that  of  the 
Hefonners.  The  Church,  although  decayed,  and  al- 
ways more  and  more  enslaved,  still  was  the  Church, — 
that  is  to  say,  still  remained  the  most  ]>owert°ul  friend 
that  man  possessed.  Her  hands,  though  tied,  could 
still  bless.  During  those  ages,  great  servants  of  Jc-ius 
Christ — men  who,  in  essential  doctrines,  were  true 
Protestants — shed  a  benign  light ;  and  in  the  most 
liinnble  convent,  or  the  most  obscure  parish,  were  found 
)ioor  monks  and  poor  priests  to  solace  deep  griefs. 
The  Catholic  Church  was  not  the  Papacy.  The  latter 
acted  the  part  of  oppressor — the  former,  that  of  the  I 
oppressed.  The  Reformation,  whicli  declared  war  on 
the  one,  came  to  deliver  the  other.  AiuI  yet,  truth  to 
tell,  the  Papacy  itself  was  sometimes,  in  the  hands  of 
(iod.  who  brings  good  out  of  c\  il,  a  ncccssafy  countcr- 
[Htise  to  the  power  and  ambition  of  princes. 


CHAPTER  III. 

niliginn—lUllcs— Easier  MerTiiiieiit—Maiiiiors—Ctirniiition— Disorderly 
IJvis  of  Priests,  Uishops,  ami  Pii|>es— A  Priest's  Faiuily— Education - 


Let  us  now  attend  to  the  state  of  the  Church  before 
the  Refonnation. 

The  people  of  Christendom  no  longer  cxi)ectiiig  the 
p-atnitous  gift  of  eternal  life  from  the  true  and  living 
God,  it  was  necessary,  in  order  to  obtain  it,  to  have 
recourse  to  all  the  methods  whicli  a  superstitious, 
timid,  and  frightened  conscience  could  invent.  Heaven 
is  full  of  saints  and  mediators  who  can  solicit  the 
favour.  Earth  is  full  of  pious  works,  sacrilices,  ob- 
servances, and  ceremonies,  which  can  merit  it.  Such 
is  the  picture  of  the  religion  of  this  period,  as  drawn 
by  one  who  was  long  a  monk,  and  afterwiu-ds  a  fellow- 
worker  with  Luther. 

Myconius  says, — -The  sufferings  and  merits  of 
Christ  were  as  a  vain  tale,  or  as  the  Fables' of  Homer. 
Xot  a  word  was  said  of  the  faith  by  which  the  righ- 
teousness of  the  Saviour,  and  the  inheritance  of  eternal 
life,  arc  secured.  Christ  was  a  severe  judge,  ready  to 
condemn  all  who  did  not  recur  to  the  intercession  of 
saints,  or  the  indulgences  of  popes.  Instead  of  Him, 
there  figured  as  intercessors,  first  the  Virgin  Mary, 


like  the  Diana  of  Paganism ;  and  after  her  saints, 
of  whom  the  popes  were  continually  enlarging  the 
catalogue.  These  mediators  gave  the  benefit  of  their 
jirayers  only  to  those  who  had  deserved  well  of  the 
orders  founded  by  them.  For  this  it  was  necessary  to 
do  not  what  God  commands  in  His  AVord,  but  a  great 
number  of  works  which  monks  and  priests  had  devised, 
and  which  brought  in  large  sums  of  money.  These 
were,  Avc-^Iarias,  i)rayers  of  St.  Ursula  and  St. 
Bridget.  It  was  necessary  to  cliaiit  and  cry  night  and 
day.  There  were  ns  many  places  of  j)ilgrimage  as 
there  were  mountains,  forests,  or  valleys.  But  these 
toils  might  be  bought  off  with  money.  Money,  there- 
fore, and  everything  that  had  any  value. — chickens, 
geese,  ducks,  eggs,  wax,  straw,  butter,  and  cheese, 
— were  l)ronglit  to  the  convents  and  to  the  priests. 
Then  chants  resounded,  and  bells  were  rung,  per- 
fumes tilled  the  sanctuary,  and  sacrifices  were  offered ; 
kitchens  were  stuffed,  glasses  rattled,  and  masses  wind- 
ing up  threw  a  cover  over  all  these  pious  works.  The 
Itishops  did  not  preach,  but  they  consecrated  priests, 
bells,  monks,  churches,  chapels,  images,  books,  ceme- 
teries,— all  these  things  yielding  large  returns.  Bones, 
arms,  and  feet,  were  presented  in  gold  and  silver 
boxes.  They  were  given  out  to  be  kissed  during  mass  ; 
and  this,  too,  yielded  a  large  profit." 

••All  these  folks  maintained,  that  the  pope  being  in 
the  place  of  God,  (2  Thcss.  ii.  1.)  could  uot  be  de- 
ceived ;  and  they  would  not  hear  of  anything  to  the 
contrary." 

In  the  church  of  All  Saints,  at  Wittembcrg,  were 
shown  a  piece  of  Noah's  Ark — a  small  ])ortion  of 
soot  from  the  furnace  of  the  Three  Young  Men — a 
bit  of  the  manger  in  which  our  Saviour  was  laid — 
hair  from  the  beard  of  the  great  Christopher ;  and 
nineteen  thousand  other  relics  of  greater  or  less  value. 
At  Schaffhaiisen  was  shown  the  breath  of  St.  Joseph, 
which  Nicodcinus  had  received  into  his  glove.  In 
Wurtemburg,  a  vender  of  indulgences  was  seen  selling 
his  wares,  and  having  his  head  adorned  with  a  large 
feather,  plucked  from  the  wing  of  the  archangel  Michael, 
But  there  was  no  occasion  to  go  to  a  distance  in  quest 
of  these  precious  treasures.  Persons  with  hired  relics 
tra\clled  the  countr)',  and  hawked  them  about,  as  has 
since  been  done  with  the  Holy  Scriptures.  The  faith- 
ful, having  them  thus  brought  to  their  houses,  were 
spared  the  trouble  and  expense  of  i)ilgrimage.  Relics 
were  exhibited  with  great  ceremony  in  the  chiuches, 
while  those  travelling  hawkers  paid  a  fixed  sum  to  the 
owners,  and  also  gave  them  so  much  per  centage  on 
their  returns.  The  kingdom  of  heaven  had  thus  dis- 
appeared, and  men,  to  supply  its  place  on  the  earth, 
had  opened  a  disgraceful  traffic. 

In  this  way  a  profane  spirit  had  invaded  religion, 
and  the  most  sacred  seasons  of  the  Church — those 
which,  most  forcibly  and  powerfully,  invited  the  faith- 
ful to  self-examination  and  love — were  dishonoured 
by  buffoonery  and  mere  heathen  blasphemies.  The 
"Easter  Drolleries"  held  an  important  place  in  the 
acts  of  the  Church.  As  the  festival  of  the  resui'rec- 
tion  required  to  be  celebrated  with  joy,  every  thing 
that  could  excite  the  laughter  of  the  hearers  was 
sought  out,  and  thrust  into  sermons.  One  preacher 
imitated  the  note  of  the  cuckoo,  while  auothcr  hissed 


10 


HISTORY  OF  THE  EEFORMATION. 


like  a  goose.  One  dragged  forward  to  the  altar  a 
layman  in  a  cassock, — a  second  told  the  most  indecent 
stories, — a  third  related  the  adventures  of  the  Apostle 
Peter;  among  others,  how,  in  a  tavern,  he  cheated  the 
host  by  not  paying  his  score.  Tlie  inferior  clergy 
took  advantage  of  the  occasion  to  turn  their  superiors 
into  ridicule.  The  churches  were  thus  turned  into 
stages,  and  the  priests  into  mountebanks. 

If  such  was  the  state  of  religion,  what  must  that  of 
morals  have  been  ?  It  is  true — and  equity  requires  we 
should  not  forget — that,  at  this  time,  corruption  was 
not  universal.  Even  when  the  Reformation  took  place, 
much  piety,  righteousness,  and  religious  vigour,  were 
brought  to  light.  Of  this,  the  mere  sovereignty  of 
God  was  the  cause ;  but  still,  how  can  it  be  denied, 
that  He  had  previously  deposited  the  germs  of  this 
new  life  iu  the  bosom  of  the  Church  ?  In  our  own 
day,  were  all  the  immoralities  and  abominations  which 
are  committed  in  a  single  country  brought  together, 
the  mass  of  corruption  would,  undoubtedly,  fill  us  with 
alarm.  Still  it  is  true,  that,  at  this  period,  evil  pre- 
sented itself  in  a  form,  and  with  a  universality,  which 
it  has  never  had  since.  In  particular,  the  abomina- 
tion of  desolation  was  seen  standing  in  the  holy  place, 
to  an  extent  which  has  not  been  permitted  since  the 
period  of  the  Reformation. 

With  faith  morality  had  decayed.  The  glad  tidings 
of  eternal  life  is  the  power  of  God  for  the  regeneration 
of  man.  But  take  away  the  salvation  which  God 
gives,  and  you  take  away  purity  of  heart  and  life. 
This  was  proved  by  the  event. 

The  doctrine  and  the  sale  of  indulgences  operated 
on  an  ignorant  people  as  a  powerfid  stimulus  to  evil. 
It  is  no  doubt  true,  that  (according  to  the  doctrine  of 
the  ChiuTli)  indulgences  were  of  use  only  to  those  who 
promised  to  amend,  and  actually  kept  their  jjromisc. 
But  what  was  to  be  expected  of  a  doctrine  which  had 
been  invented  with  a  view  to  the  profit  which  it  might 
be  made  to  yield  ?  The  venders  of  indulgences,  the 
better  to  dispose  of  their  wares,  were  naturally  dis- 
posed to  present  them  in  the  most  winning  and  seduc- 
tive form.  Even  the  learned  were  not  too  well 
informed  on  the  subject ;  while  the  only  thing  seen  by 
the  multitude  was,  that  indulgences  gave  them  jier- 
mission  to  sin.  The  merchants  were  in  no  haste  to 
disabuse  them  of  an  error  so  greatly  in  favour  of  the 
trade. 

In  those  ages  of  darkness,  what  disorders  and 
crimes  must  have  prevailed  when  impunity  could  be 
purchased  with  money!  AVhat  ground  could  there  bo 
for  fear,  when  a  trifling  contribution  to  build  a  church 
prociu-ed  exemption  from  punishment  in  the  world  to 
come  ?  What  hope  of  renovation,  when  all  direct 
communication  between  men  and  their  God  had  ceased. 
— when,  estranged  from  Him,  their  spirit  and  life, 
they  moved  to  and  fro,  among  frivolous  ceremonies 
and  crude  observances,  in  an  atmosphere  of  death  ? 

The  priests  were  the  first  to  yield  to  the  corrupting 
influence.  In  wishing  to  raise,  they  had  lowered 
themselves.  They  had  fried  to  steal  from  God  a  ray 
of  His  glory,  that  they  might  place  it  in  their  own 
bosom ;  but,  instead  of  this,  had  only  placed  iu  it 
some  of  the  leaven  of  corruptiou,  stolen  from  the  Evil 
One.     The  annals  of  the  period  teem  with  scandalous 


stories.  In  many  places  people  were  pleased  to  see 
their  priest  keeping  a  mistress,  in  the  hope  that  it 
might  secure  their  A^-ives  from  seduction.  How  hum- 
bling the  scene  which  the  house  of  such  a  priest  must 
have  presented  !  The  imhappy  man  maintained  the 
woman,  and  the  children  she  might  have  borne  him, 
out  of  tithes  and  alms.  His  conscience  upbraided 
him :  he  blushed  before  his  people,  his  servants,  and 
his  God.  The  woman,  feai'ing  that,  iu  the  event  of 
the  priest's  death,  she  might  become  destitute,  some- 
times made  provision  beforehand,  and  played  the  thief 
in  her  own  house.  Her  honour  was  gone  ;  and  her 
children  were  a  living  accusation  against  hei-.  Objects 
of  universal  contempt,  both  parties  rushed  into  quar- 
relling and  dissipation.  Such  was  the  home  of  a 
jn-iest !  ...  In  these  fearful  scenes,  the  people 
read  a  lesson  of  which  they  were  not  slow  to  a^ail 
themselves. 

The  rural  districts  became  the  theatre  of  numerous 
excesses.  The  places  where  priests  resided  were  often 
the  abodes  of  dissoluteness.  Corneille  Adrian  at  Bruges, 
and  Abbot  Trinkler  at  Cappcl,  imitated  the  manners 
of  the  East,  and  had  their  harems.  Priests,  associat- 
ing lA-ith  low  company,  frequented  taverns  and  played 
at  dice ;  crowning  their  oi-gies  with  quarrels  and  Ijlas- 
phemy.  The  Council  of  Schaffhauseu  issued  an  order 
forbidding  priests  to  dance  iu  public,  except  at  mar- 
riages ;  or  to  carry  more  than  one  kind  of  weapon. 
They,  moreover,  ordered  that  such  priests  as  were 
found  in  houses  of  bad  fauii-  sliduld  be  stript  of  their 
cassocks.  In  the  arclibi-lidprir  of  Mayence  they  leapt 
the  walls  at  night,  and  thiu  shouted  and  revelled  in  all 
sorts  of  debauchery  within  taverns  and  inns.  Doors 
and  locks  were  not  secure  from  their  attacks.  In 
several  places  each  priest  was  liable  to  the  bishop  in 
a  certain  tax  for  the  female  he  kept,  and  for  every 
child  she  bore  him.  One  day,  a  German  bishop,  who 
was  attending  a  great  festival,  openly  declared,  that  in 
a  single  year,  the  number  of  priests  who  had  been 
brought  before  him  for  this  purpose,  amounted  to 
eleven  thousand.     This  account  is  given  by  Erasmus. 

Among  the  higher  orders  of  the  priesthood  the 
corruption  was  equally  great.  The  dignitaries  of  the 
Church  preferred  the  tm-moil  of  camps  to  chanting  at 
the  altar ;  and  to  take  lance  in  hand,  and  reduce  those 
around  them  to  obedience,  was  one  of  the  first  quali- 
ties of  a  bishop.  Baldwin  of  Tours,  who  was  constantly 
warring  with  his  vassals  and  neighbom-s,  razed  their 
castles,  built  others  of  his  own,  and  thought  of  nothing 
but  enlarging  his  territory.  It  is  told  of  a  certain 
bishop  of  Eichstadt,  that  when  he  sat  in  his  court,  he 
had  a  coat-of-mail  wider  his  gown,  and  a  large  sword 
iu  his  hand.  One  of  his  sayings  was,  that  in  fair 
fight  he  was  not  afraid  of  five  Bavarians.  The  bishoj)* 
and  the  inhabitants  of  the  towns  where  they  resided 
were  perpetually  at  war.  The  burghers  demanded 
freedom,  while  the  priests  insisted  on  absolute  obedi- 
ence. When  the  latter  proved  victorious,  they  pun- 
ished revolt,  and  satiated  their  vengeance  with  num- 
bers of  victims  ;  but  the  flame  of  insurrection  burst 
forth  at  the  very  moment  when  they  imagined  they 
had  sujipressed  it.  And  what  a  spectacle  was  pre- 
sented by  the  pontifical  throne  at  the  period  imme- 
diately preceding   the    Reformation!       To   say   the 


DEBAUCHERY  OF  POPE  ALEXANDER  VI. 


n 


truth,  even  Rome  wiis  not  often  witness  to  such 
infamy. 

Kodcrig"  Borgiii,  iifler  ho  hiul  lived  with  a  lady 
of  Komc,  continued  the  wime  illegitinnitc  interoourBC 
with  her  dnuphtcr,  Rosa  Vanozza,  and  had  live  child- 
ren by  her.  This  man,  a  cardinal  and  an  archhishop, 
was  livih};  at  Rome  with  Vanozza,  and  other  females 
besides,  fre<|uentiii^  churches  and  hos]iitals,  when  the 
pontilieal  chair  became  vacant  by  the  death  of  Inno- 
cent VIII.  l{or;;ia  secured  it  by  bnyinpf  each  car- 
dinal for  a  rejiular  price.  Four  mules  loaded  with 
gold  publicly  entered  the  palace  of  Cardinal  Sforza, 
the  most  intluential  among  them.  I5iir;:ia  became 
pope  umlcr  the  name  of  Alexaiulcr  ^'I.,  ami  was 
delighted  at  having  thus  reached  llie  jiinnacle  of 
pleasure. 

On  his  coronation-day,  he  appointed  his  sou  Ca-sar. 
n  youth  of  ferocious  temper  and  dissolute  habits, 
Archbishop  of  Valencia  and  Bishop  of  l'an\peluna. 
Then,  when  his  daughter  Lucretia  was  married,  he 
celebrated  the  occasion  in  the  Vatican,  with  fetes 
which  were  attended  by  his  mistress,  Julia  IJella,  and 
enlivened  by  comedies  and  obscene  songs.  "All  the 
ecclesiastics,"  says  a  historian,  "had  mistresses,  and 
nil  the  convents  of  the  capital  were  houses  of  bad 
fame."  Ca-sar  Borgia  espoused  the  faction  of  the 
Gnelphs,  and  when,  by  their  assistance,  he  had  de- 
stroyed the  Ghibelins.  he  turned  round  upon  the 
Guelphs,  and,  in  like  nmnner,  destroyed  lluin.  But 
he  was  unwilling  that  any  should  share  the  spoil  with 
him,  and,  therefore,  after  Alexander  had.  in  1497. 
made  his  eldest  son  Duke  of  Benevento,  tlie  duke 
disappeared.  George  Schiavoni,  a  dealer  in  wood  on 
the  banks  of  the  Tiber,  one  night  saw  a  dead  body 
thrown  into  the  river,  but  said  nothing;  such 
oecnrrences  were  conunon.  The  dead  body  ])roved 
to  be  that  of  the  duke,  who  had  been  murdered 
by  his  brother  Casar.'  Nor  was  this  enough. 
Having  taken  offence  at  his  brother-in-law,  he 
made  him  be  stabbed  on  the  stair  of  the  pontifical 
palace.  The  wounded  man.  covered  with  blood,  was 
eiuricd  to  his  apartment,  where  he  was  constantly 
watched  by  his  wife  and  sister,  who,  dreading  Caesar's 
poison,  jirepared  his  food  with  their  own  hands. 
Alexander  placed  sentinels  at  his  door,  but  C'ncsar 
laughed  at  their  precautions;  and  as  the  pope  wa* 
going  to  sec  his  son-in-l.iw,  Cxsar  said  to  him, 
"What  is  not  done  at  dinner  will  be  done  at  sup- 
per." In  short,  he  one  day  forced  his  way  into 
the  room,  drove  out  the  wife  and  sister,  and  call- 
ing in  his  executioner,  Michilotto,— the  only  i)ersou 
to  whonj  he  shewed  any  confidence. — looked  on  while 
his  brother-in-law  was  strangled.  Alexander  had 
a  favourite,  named  Peroto.  The  pope's  partiality 
for  him  offended  the  young  duke.  He  pursued  him; 
and  Peroto,  taking  refuge  under  the  pontifical  mantle, 
clasped  the  pope  in  his  arms.  Ca>sar  stabbed  him, 
and  the  blood  of  his  victim  sprung  into  the  pontiffs 
face.  "The  pope,"  adds  a  contemporary  witness  to 
these  scenes,  "loves  his  son  the  diike,  and  is  much 
afraid  of  him."  Cicsar  Wiu  the  handsomest  and  most 
jwwerful  man  of  his  age.     He  fought  with  six  wild 

1  Ho  .nssaMinntcd  his  broflicr,  the  Duke  of  Oan.lia,  ami  made  liiin  be 
lUrowu  into  the  Tiber.— .VS.  o/Captllo,  ^mbattadorat  Hont  in  IMO. 


bidls,  and  despatched  them  with  ease.  Every  mor- 
ning at  Rome  persons  were  fouu<l  who  had  been 
iL«8a.ssinated  during  the  night,  while  poi.son  carried  off 
those  whom  the  sword  could  not  reach.  Men  dared 
not  to  move  or  breathe  in  Rome,  every  one  trembling 
till  his  own  turn  should  arrive.  C'a-sar  Borgia  was 
the  hero  nf  crime.  The  spot  of  earth  where  iniipiity 
attained  this  dreadful  height  was  the  ]iontifical  throne. 
When  once  man  has  given  hiin.self  over  to  the  powers 
of  darkness,  the  higher  the  station  he  pretends  to 
occupy  in  the  sight  of  God,  the  deejjcr  he  sinks  into 
the  abysses  of  hell.  The  dissolute  fetes  which  were 
given  in  the  pontifical  ])alace  by  the  jiope,  his  son 
Cifsar,  and  his  daughter  Lucretia,  cannot  be  described, 
or  even  thought  of,  without  horror.  The  impure 
groves  of  antitpiity.  perhaps,  never  saw  the  like.  His- 
torians have  accused  Alexander  and  Lucretia  of 
incest,  but  the  proof  seems  defective.  The  pope  had 
prepared  ))oi.sou  for  a  rich  cardinal,  in  a  sm.all  box  of 
comfits  wliich  were  to  be  served  after  a  sumptuous 
repast.  The  Cardinal  being  put  on  his  guard,  bribed 
the  steward,  ami  the  poisoned  bo.x  was  placed  before 
Alexander,  who  ate  of  it  and  died.  The  whole  city 
ran  to  see  the  dead  viper.  an<I  could  not  gel  enough  of 
the  sight. 

Such  was  the  man  who  occupied  the  pontifical  see 
at  the  beginning  of  the  century  in  which  the  Reforma- 
tion commenced. 

The  clergy  having  thus  brought  religion  and  them- 
selves into  disrepute,  a  jjowerfnl  voice  might  well 
exclaim,  "  The  ecclesiastical  state  is  opposed  to  God 
and  to  His  glory.  The  people  well  know  this,  and 
but  too  well  do  they  shew  it,  by  the  many  songs, 
])roverbs.  and  jests,  against  priests,  which  are  ciurent 
among  the  lower  classes,  and  l^y  all  those  caricatures 
of  monks  and  priests  which  we  see  on  all  the  walls, 
and  even  on  playing  canls.  Every  man  feels  disgust 
when  he  sees  or  when  he  hears  of  an  ecclesiastic." 
These  are  Luther's  words. 

The  evil  had  spread  through  all  ranks.  A  spirit  of 
error  had  been  sent  to  men,  corruption  of  manners 
kept  pace  with  corruption  of  faith,  and  a  mystery  of 
iniquity  lay  like  au  incubus  on  the  enslaved  Church 
of  Jesus  Christ. 

There  was  another  conseipience  which  necessarily 
resulted  from  the  oblivion  into  which  the  funda- 
ment.tl  doctrine  of  the  Gospel  had  fallen.  Ignorance 
was  the  companion  of  corru])tiou.  The  priests  having 
Ijiken  iiitip  their  own  hands  the  distribution  of  a 
sMl\Mtion  wliich  belongs  only  to  God.  deemed  this  a 
sutlicient  title  to  the  respect  of  the  ]>eople.  AVhat 
occasion  had  they  to  study  sacred  literature.'  Their 
business  was  not  to  expound  the  Scriptures,  but  to  give 
diplomas  of  indidgence — a  ministry  which  called  not 
for  the  laborious  acquisition  of  extensive  knowledge. 

In  the  rural  districts,  says  Wini])heling,  the  persons 
selected  for  preachers  were  miserable  creatures,  who 
had  been  i)reviotisly  raised  from  beggary,  cast-off  cooks, 
nmsicians,  huntsmen,  grooms,  and  still  worse. 

The  higher  clergy  were  often  siuik  in  deep  ignor- 
ance. A  Bishop  of  bunfeld  congiatidated  himself  that 
he  had  never  learned  either  Greek  or  Hebrew;  while 
the  monks  contended  that  all  heresies  sprung  out  of 
these  languages,   and   especially  out    of   the   Greek. 


12 


HI5T0KT  OF  THE  EEFOEMATIOX. 


"  The  New  Testament,"  said  one  of  them.  "  is  a  book 
full  of  briers  and  serpents.  The  Greek."  continued 
he,  '"is  a  new  language  recently  invented,  and  of  it 
we  ought  specially  to  beware.  As  to  Hebrew,  my 
dear  brethren,  it  is  certain  that  all  who  leam  it.  that 
very  instant  become  Jews."  AVe  quote  from  Heres- 
bach,  a  friend  of  Erasmus,  and  a  respectable  writer. 
Thomas  Linacer,  a  learned  and  celebrated  ecclesiastic, 
had  never  read  the  New  Testament.  In  the  last  days 
of  his  life,  (in  1524.)  he  caused  a  copy  of  it  to  be 
brought,  but  immediately  dashed  it  from  him  with  an 
oath,  because,  on  opening  it.  he  had  lighted  on  these 
words,  ••  I  say  unto  you.  Swear  not  at  all."  Now  he 
was  a  great  sivearer.  '•  Either  this  is  not  the  Gospel," 
said  he.  "  or  we  are  not  Christians."  Even  the  Theo- 
logical Faculty  of  Paris  did  not  hesitate  at  this  time  to 
say,  in  presence  of  the  Parliament,  "  It  is  all  over 
with  religion  if  the  study  of  Greek  and  Hebrew  is 
allowed."  If,  among  ecclesiastics,  there  were  a  scat- 
tered few  who  had  made  some  attainments,  it  was  not 
in  sacred  literature.  The  Ciceronians  of  Italy  affected 
great  contempt  for  the  Bible  because  of  its  style. 
Men  calling  themselves  priests  of  the  Church  of  Jesus 
Christ,  translated  the  writings  of  holy  men  inspired  by 
the  Spirit  of  God  into  the  style  of  A'irgU  and  Horace, 
in  order  to  adapt  them  to  the  ears  of  good  society. 
Cardinal  Bembo,  instead  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  wrote  the 
breath  of  the  heavenly  zephyr;  instead  of  to  forr/ire  sins — 
to  bend  the  manes  and  the  Sorereiyn  God ;  and  instead 
of  Christ  the  Son  of  God — Minerea  spruii;/  from  the 
forehead  of  Jupiter.  Having  one  day  found  the  re- 
spectable Sadolet  engaged  in  translating  the  Epistle  to 
the  Romans,  he  said  to  him,  "Leave  off  this  child's 
play;  such  trifling  ill  becomes  a  man  of  gravity." 

Such  are  some  of  the  consequences  of  the  system 
under  which  Christendom  then  groaned.  Our  picture, 
undoubtedly,  proves  both  the  corruption  of  tlie  Church 
and  the  necessity  of  a  Reformation ;  and  it  was  this 
we  proposed  in  sketching  it.  The  vita!  doctrines  of 
Clu-istjanity  had  almost  entirely  disappeared,  and  with 
them  the  light  and  life  which  constitute  the  essence  of 
genuine  religion.  The  strength  of  the  Church  had 
been  wasted ;  and  its  body,  enfeebled  and  e.xhausted, 
lay  stretched,  almost  without  life,  over  the  whole  ex- 
tent which  the  Roman  empire  had  occupied. 


CilAl'TER  IV. 

Inii«risliable  nature  of  Chiiatiaiiity— Two  Laws  of  God— Apparent  power 
tif  Rome — Hidden  Opposition — Ikeay — Tlireefold  Opposition— Kings 
and  Sabjecta — The  Pope  jndged  in  Italy— Discoveries  by  Kings  and 
Subjects — Frederick  the  Wise— His  ilodeiation — His  Anticiiiation. 

TuE  evils  which  then  afflicted  Christendom,  viz.,  su- 
perstition, infidelity,  ignorance,  vain  speculation,  and 
comiption  of  maimers — all  natural  fruits  of  the  human 
heart — were  not  new  upon  the  earth.  Often  had  they 
figured  in  the  history  of  States.  In  the  East,  espe- 
cially, various  religions  which  had  had  their  day  of 
glorj',  but  had  become  enervated,  had  been  attacked 
by  them,  and,  yielding  to  the  assault,  had  fallen  imder 


it,  never  again  to  rise.     Is  Christianity  to  experience 
the  same  fate  .-     WiU  she  be  destroyed  like  these  an- 
cient popular  religious  ?     Will  the  blow  which  gave 
them  death  be  strong  enough  to  deprive  her  of  life  ? 
Is  there  nothing  that  can  save  her !     Will  those  hos- 
tile powers  that  now  oppress   her.  and  which  have 
j  already  overthrown  so  many  other  forms  of  worshij). 
I  be  able  to  seat  themselves  without  opposition  on  tLc 
!  ruins  of  the  Church  of  Jesus  Clirist  1 
,       No  I     There  is  in  Christianity  what  there  was  u^i 
I  in  any  of  those  popular  religions.     It  does  not,  like 
I  them,  present  certain  abstract  ideas,  interwoven  with 
traditions  and  fables,  destined  to  fall,  sooner  or  later, 
under  the  attacks  of  human  reason.     It  contains  pture 
truth,  founded  on  facts  capable  of  standing  the  scrutiny 
of  every  upright  and  enlightened  mind.     Christianity 
does  not  aim  merely  at  exciting  certaiu  vague  religious 
sentiments,  which,  when   they  have  once  lost  their 
charm,  cannot  be  again  revived.     Its  end  is  to  satisfy ; 
and  it.  in  fact,  does  satisfy  all  the  religions  wants  of 
human  nature,  whatever  the  degree  of  refinement  to 
which  it  may  have  attained.     It  is  not  the  work  of 
man.  whose  labours  fade  and  are  effaced;  it   is   the 
work  of  God.  who  sustains  what  He  creates ;  and  the 
pledge  of  its  duration  is  the  promise  of  its  divine  Head. 
It  is  impossible  that  human  nature  can  ever  rise  so 
high  as  to  look  dov.-n   on   CIiri=tianity;  or  if.  for  a 
time,  human  nature  do  think  herself  able  to  dispense 
with  it,  it  soon  appears  with  renewed  youth  and  life, 
as  alone  fit  for  curing  souls.     Degenerate  nations  thou 
return  with  new  ardour  to  those  ancient,  simi)le.  au'l 
powerful  truths,  which,  in  the  hour  of  their  infatuation, 
they  had  turned  from  with  disdain. 

Christianity,  in  fact,  displayed,  in  the  sixteenth 
century,  the  same  regenerating  power  which  it  had 
exerted  in  the  first.  After  fifteen  centuries  the  same 
truths  produced  the  same  re.-iUts.  In  the  days  of  the 
Reformation,  as  in  those  of  Paul  and  Peter,  the  Gos- 
pel, with  invincible  force,  overtlurew  the  mightic-t 
obstacles.  Its  sovereign  power  was  manifested  from 
north  to  south  among  nations  differing  most  widely 
from  each  other  in  manners,  character,  and  intellectual 
development.  Then,  as  in  the  days  of  Stephen  and 
James,  it  liglitcd  up  the  fire  of  euthu=iasm  and  devoted- 
ncss  in  natious  which  seemed  ahnost  extinguished,  and 
exalted  them  even  to  the  Iiciglit  of  mart}Tdom. 

How  was  this  revi\al  of  tlie  Chmch  and  of  the 
world  accon>[ilishcd  ? 

The  obsencr  might  then  have  seen  the  operation  of 
two  l.-iws  by  which  God  governs  the  world  at  all  times. 
First,  as  He  has  ages  to  act  in.  He  begins  His  pre- 
parations leisurely,  and  long  before  the  event  which 
He  desigus  to  accomplish. 

Thenr  when  the  time  is  come.  He  produces  the 
greatest  results  by  the  smallest  means.  It  is  thus  He 
acts  in  nature  and  in  history.  AVhen  He  wishes  an 
immense  tree  to  grow,  He  deposits  a  little  grain  in  thr 
earth ;  and  when  He  wishes  to  renew  His  Church,  He 
employs  the  humblest  instnuuent  to  accomplish  what 
emperors  and  all  the  learned  and  eminent  in  the  Church 
were  imable  to  perform.  By-and-by  we  will  search 
for  and  we  will  discover  this  little  seed  which  a 
Divine  hand  deposited  in  the  earth  in  the  d.iy3  of  the 
Reformation  ;  but,  at  present,  let  us  endeavour  to  as- 


APPARENT  POWER  OF  ROME. 


certain  the  various  means  by  wliicli  Gotl  prepared  this 
great  event. 

At  tlie  periml  when  the  Reformation  was  ready  to 
biir.Ht  forth,  Rome  appeared  to  ho  in  peace  and  safety. 
One  would  even  have  said  that  nothin<;  could  disturb 
hi-r  triumph  after  the  preat  victories  which  she  had 
i;aincd.  General  Councils — those  rpjier  and  Lower 
Houses  of  Catholicity — had  been  subdued.  The  A'uu- 
dois  and  the  Hussites  had  been  suppressed.  No  uni- 
versity, with  the  exception,  |)erlmps,  of  that  of  Paris, 
which  sometimes  raised  its  voice  when  its  kin^s  {rave 
the  sipinnl,  doubted  the  infallibility  of  the  oracles  of 
Rome.  Each  neemed  to  have  accepted  his  allotted 
nhnro  in  her  |io\\cr.  'l"ho  hi.uiher  clerjry  deemed  it 
better  to  {jive  a  distant  chief  the  tenth  jmrt  of  their 
revenues,  and  quietly  consume  the  other  nine,  than  to 
hazard  all  for  an  independence  which  would  cost  much 
and  yield  little.  The  lower  clergy,  decoyed  by  the 
pcrppectivo  of  rich  benelices,  which  ambition  ninde 
tlicin  fancy  and  discover  in  the  distance,  were  willinj;, 
by  a  little  slavery,  to  realize  the  llatterin-^  hopes  which 
they  entertained.  Resides,  they  were  almost  every- 
where so  oppressed  by  the  chiefs  of  the  hierarchy, 
thai  they  could  sc.irccly  struggle  uiuler  their  powerful 
grasp,  far  less  rise  boldly  and  hold  up  their  heads. 
'llie  people  knelt  before  the  Roman  altar ;  and  kings 
themselves,  though  they  began  in  secret  to  despise  the 
Bishop  of  Rome,  durst  not  venture  to  attack  his 
power  with  a  hand  which  the  age  would  have  deemed 
sacrilegious. 

Ilut  opposition,  if  it  seemed  externally  to  have 
slackened,  or  even  ce.nseil,  when  the  Reformation  burst 
fiirlli,  had  more  inward  strength.  A  nearer  view  of 
the  eililice  will  disclose  to  us  more  than  one  symptom 
which  i)resaged  its  downfall.  General  Councils,  though 
vanquished,  had  diffused  their  principles  throughout 
the  Church,  and  carric<l  division  into  the  enemy's 
camp.  The  defenders  of  the  hierarchy  were  divided 
into  two  parlies, — viz.,  those  who  maintained  the 
system  of  absolute  Papal  domination,  on  the  prin- 
ciples of  Ilildebrand,  and  those  who  were  desirous  of 
ft  constitutional  Papal  government,  offering  guarantees 
and  giving  liberty  to  the  churches. 

Nor  wa-s  this  the  whole.  Faith  in  the  inf.-iUibility 
of  the  Roman  bishop  was  greatly  shaken  among  all 
parties  ;  and  if  no  voice  was  raised  in  opposition  to  it, 
it  was  because  every  one  rather  desired  anxiously  to 
retain  the  little  faith  in  it  which  he  still  had.  The 
least  shock  was  dreadeil.  because  it  might  overturn  the 
edifice.  Christendom  held  in  its  breath;  but  it  was 
to  prevent  a  disaster  by  w  hich  its  own  existence  might 
have  been  endangereil.  From  the  moment  when  nmn 
trembles  at  the  thought  of  abandoning  a  long  vene- 
rated belief,  it  has  lost  its  influence  over  him  ;  and  even 
the  appeanuue  of  respect  which  he  may  be  desirous  to 
keep  up  will  not  be  long  maintained.  The  Reforma- 
tion had  been  gradually  prepared  in  three  different 
worlds — the  politic.al,  the  ecclesi.Tstical,  and  the  literary. 
Political  bodies,  private  Christians,  and  theologians,  the 
literary  ami  the  learned,  all  contributed  to  the  revolu- 
tion of  the  sixteenth  century.  Let  us  take  a  survey  of 
this  triple  opposition,  concluding  with  the  literarv 
class;  though,  at  the  period  immediately  preceding  the 
revolution,  it  was,  perhaps,  the  most  powerful  of  all. 


First,  among  political  bodies,  Rome  had  lost  much 
of  its  ancient  ere<lit.  Of  this  tlic  Church  herself  was 
the  primary  cause;  for,  properly  speaking,  it  was  not 
the  errors  and  superstitions  which  she  had  introduced 
into  Christianity  that  gave  the  fatal  blow.  Before 
Christeuihim  could  have  been  able  to  comlenui  her  on 
this  account,  it  must  have  stood  higher  than  the 
Church,  iu  respect  of  intellectual  and  religions  de- 
velo|iment.  IJut  there  was  a  class  of  things  whi<-h  the 
laity  well  understood,  and  it  was  by  these  they  judged 
the  Church.  She  had  become  of  the  "earth,  eiirthy." 
The  sacerdotal  empire,  which  tyrannized  over  the 
nations,  existed  solely  by  the  illusions  of  its  subjects; 
and  having  a  halo  for  its  crown,  had  forgotten  its 
nature,  and  left  heaven,  with  his  spheres  of  light  and 
glory,  to  plunge  into  the  vulgar  interests  of  burghers 
and  princes.  Though  representing  those  who  are  born 
of  the  Spirit,  the  priests  had  exchanged  the  Spirit  for 
the  flesh.  They  had  abandoned  the  treasures  of  know- 
ledge, and  the  spiritual  power  of  the  Word,  for  the 
brute  force  and  tinkling  of  the  age. 

The  thing  happened  naturally  enough.  At  first  the 
Church  pretended  that  her  object  was  to  defend  spiri- 
tual order.  But  in  order  to  protect  it  from  the  ojjpo- 
sition  and  assaults  of  the  people,  she  h.id  resorted  to 
earthly  means,  to  vulgar  weapons,  which  a  false  ))rn- 
dencc  had  induced  her  to  take  up.  When  the  Church 
had  once  begun  to  handle  such  weapons,  her  spiri- 
tuality was  at  an  end.  Iler  arm  could  not  become 
temporal  without  rendering  her  heart  temporal  also. 
The  a])pearance  presented  soon  became  the  reverse  of 
what  it  had  been  at  the  outset.  At  llrst,  she  had 
thought  proper  to  employ  the  earth  in  defending 
heaven ;  now  she  employed  heaven  to  defend  the 
earth.  Theocratic  forms  became  in  her  hands  merely 
a  mean  of  accomplishing  worldly  interests.  The  offer- 
ings which  the  people  laid  at  the  feet  of  the  sovereign 
pontiff  of  Christendom  were  expended  in  maintaining 
the  luxury  of  his  court,  and  the  soldiers  of  his  armies. 
His  spiritual  power  served  hiin  as  a  ladder  on  which  to 
climb,  and  then  put  the  kings  and  nations  of  the  earth 
under  his  feet.  The  charm  broke,  and  the  power  of 
the  Church  was  lost  as  soon  as  the  men  of  the  world 
could  say,  ''.She  is  become  as  one  of  us." 

The  great  were  the  first  to  examine  the  titles  of  this 
imagin.iry  power.  This  examination  might,  perhaps, 
have  been  sullicient  to  overthrow  Rome ;  but,  happily 
for  her,  the  education  of  princes  was  everpvhere  in 
the  hands  of  her  adepts.  These  inspired  their  august 
pupils  with  sentiments  of  veneration  for  the  Roman 
))oiitiff.  The  rulers  of  the  people  grew  up  within  the 
sanctuary,  and  princes  of  ordinary  cap.icity  could  never 
entirely  ipiit  it.  .Sover.al  even  had  no  other  ambition 
than  to  be  found  in  it  at  the  hour  of  death.  They 
preferred  to  die  under  a  ciissock  rather  than  a  crown. 

Italy,  that  a|i])lc  of  discord  in  Europe,  perh.ips  con- 
tributed most  to  open  the  eyes  of  kings.  Having 
occasion  to  communicate  with  jiopes  on  matters  which 
concerned  the  temporal  prince  of  the  States  of  the 
Church,  and  not  the  Bishop  of  bishops,  they  were 
greatly  astonished  when  they  saw  them  ready  to  sacri- 
I  fice  rights  which  appertained  to  the  pontiff,  in  order  to 
secure  certain  advantages  to  the  prince.  They  dis- 
I  covered   that   these   pretended   organs   of  truth   had 


14 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


recourse  to  all  the  petty  wiles  of  polities,  to  deceit,  dis- 
simulation, aud  perjury.  Then,  at  length,  the  bandage 
which  education  had  tied  upon  the  eyes  of  princes  fell 
off.  Then  wily  Ferdinand  of  Arragon  tried  stratagem 
against  stratagem.  Then  the  impetuous  Louis  XII. 
caused  a  medal  to  he  struck  with  this  inscription. 
'■Perdam  Babylonis  nomen."^  And  honest  Maximi- 
lian of  Austria,  grieved  to  the  heart  on  learning  the 
treachery  of  Leo  X.,  declared  openly, — "  Henceforth 
this  pope,  too,  is  to  me  nothing  better  than  a  villain  ; 
now  I  can  say,  that  tliroughout  my  life  not  one  pope 
has  kept  faith  with  me,  or  been  true  to  his  word.  If 
it  please  God,  I  hope  that  this  one  will  be  the  last." 

Kings  and  states  began,  moreover,  to  feel  impatient 
imder  the  heavy  burden  which  the  popes  imposed  on 
them,  and  to  demand  that  Rome  should  free  them  from 
contributions  and  annate,  which  wasted  their  resources. 
Already  had  France  opposed  Rome  with  the  pragmatic 
sanction,  and  the  heads  of  the  empire  claimed  to  share 
in  it.  In  1.511  the  emperor  took  part  in  the  Council 
of  Pisa,  aud  had  even  at  one  time  an  idea  of  seizing 
the  popedom  for  himself.  But,  among  the  rulers  of 
the  people,  none  were  so  useful  to  the  Reformation  as 
the  prince  in  whose  states  it  was  to  commence. 

Of  all  the  Electors  of  that  period,  the  most  power- 
ful was  Frederick  of  Saxony,  surnamed  the  Wise. 
Having  succeeded,  in  1487.  to  the  hereditary  states  of 
his  family,  he  had  received  the  electoral  dignity  from 
the  emperor,  and  in  1493  undertook  a  pilgi'image  to 
.lerusalem,  where  he  was  dubbed  "Kuight  of  the  Holy 
Sepulchre."  His  power  and  influence,  his  riches  and 
liberality,  raised  him  above  all  his  equals.  God  chose 
him  to  be  the  tree  under  whose  shelter  the  seed  of 
truth  might  be  able  to  push  forth  its  first  blade,  with- 
out being  uprooted  by  storms  from  without.' 

No  man  was  better  fitted  for  this  noble  service. 
Frederick  possessed  the  general  esteem,  and,  in  parti- 
cular, had  the  entire  confidence  of  the  emperor,  whom 
he  even  represented  in  his  absence.  His  wisdom  con- 
sisted not  in  the  dexterous  arts  of  a  wily  politician, 
but  in  an  enlightened  aud  foreseeing  prudence — the 
first  maxim  of  which  was,  never  to  offer  violence,  from 
interested  motives,  to  the  laws  of  honour  aud  religion. 

At  the  same  time,  he  felt  in  his  heart  the  power  of 
the  word  of  God.  One  day  when  Staupitz,  the  Vicar- 
General,  was  with  him.  the  conversation  turned  upon 
those  who  entertained  the  people  with  vain  declama- 
tion. "  All  discourses,"  said  the  Elector,  "  which  arc 
filled  only  with  subtleties  and  human  traditions,  are 
wondrously  cold,  nerveless,  and  feeble.  It  is  impos- 
sible to  advance  one  subtlety  which  another  subtlety 
cannot  destroy.  The  Holy  Scriptiu-es  alone  are  clothed 
with  such  power  and  majesty,  that,  destrojnng  all 
our  learned  logical  contrivances,  they  press  us  home, 
and  constrain  us  to  exclaim,  'Never  man  so  spake.'" 
St,aupitz  having  signified  that  he  was  entirely  of  this 
opinion,  the  Elector  shook  him  cordially  by  the  hand, 
and  said,  "■  Promise  me  that  you  will  always  think  so." 

Frederick  was  just  the  prince  required  at  the  outset 
of  the  Reformation.  Too  much  feebleness  on  the  part 
of  its  friends  might  have  allowed  it  to  be  strangled ; 

1  I  will  destroy  the  Dame  of  Babylon. 

s  He  sm-passed  many  other  princes  in  nutlioiity,  weiUtli,  power,  liberality, 
and  maguiflcence.— CocAIoiij. 


while  too  much  haste  might  have  caused  the  storm, 
which  at  the  very  first  began  with  hollow  murmuring 
sound  to  gather  against  it,  to  burst  too  soon.  Frede- 
rick was  moderate,  but  strong.  He  had  that  Christian 
virtue  which  God  always  requires  in  those  who  would 
adore  His  ways — he  waited  upon  God.  He  put  in 
practice  the  wise  counsel  of  Gamaliel — "If  this  coun- 
sel or  this  work  be  of  men,  it  will  come  to  nought ; 
but  if  it  be  of  God,  ye  cannot  overthrow  it,"  (Acts  v.  j 
38,  39.)  '-Matters,"  said  this  prince  to  Spengler  of 
Niu-emberg,  one  of  the  most  enlightened  men  of  his 
time, — "matters  are  come  to  such  a  point,  that  there 
is  nothing  more  which  men  can  do  in  them ;  God 
alone  must  act.  To  His  mighty  hand,  therefore,  we 
commit  these  great  events,  which  are  too  ditlicult  for 
us."  Providence  made  an  admirable  choice  in  select- 
ing such  a  prince  to  protect  His  work  in  its  infancy. 


CHAPTER  Y. 

The  People— The  Empire— Providential  Preparations— Impulse  of  the 
Refonnatiou — Peace — Middle  Classes — National  Character— Yoke  of 
the  Pope- State  of  the  Empire— Opposition  to  Rome— The  Jjm-ghei-s— 
Switzerland  — Valour  —  Liberty  —  SnuiU  Cantons  —  Italy — Obstacles  to 
Refonn — Spain — Obstacles  — Portugal — France — Preparations  —  Hopes 
Deceived — Netherlands — England — Scotland — The  Kortli  —  Russia- 
Poland— Bohemia — Hungary. 

The  discoveries  made  by  kings  had  gradually  ex- 
tended to  their  subjects.  The  wise  began  to  habituate 
themselves  to  the  idea  that  the  Bishop  of  Rome  was 
only  a  man,  and  sometimes  even  a  very  bad  man. 
They  had  a  suspicion  that  he  was  no  holier  than  the 
bishops,  whose  reputation  was  very  equivocal.  The 
licentiousness  of  the  popes  roused  the  indignation  of 
Christendom,  and  hatred  of  the  Roman  name  rankled 
in  the  heart  of  the  nations.^ 

Numerous  causes  concurred  in  facilitating  the  de- 
liverance of  the  different  countries  of  the  West.  Let 
us  glance  at  these  countries. 

The  empire  was  a  confederation  of  different  states, 
with  an  emperor  at  their  head, — each  state  having 
supreme  authority  within  its  own  territory.  The  Im- 
perial Diet,  composed  of  all  the  princes  or  sovereign 
states,  legislated  for  the  whole  Germanic  body.  It 
belonged  to  the  emperor  to  ratify  the  laws,  decrees,  or 
resolutions  of  the  assembly,  and  to  see  them  applied 
and  carried  into  execution ;  while  the  seven  most 
powerful  princes,  under  the  title  of  Electors,  had  the 
disposal  of  the  imperial  crown. 

Jhe  north  of  Germany,  inhabited  chiefly  by  the 
ancient  Sa.xon  race,  had  acquired  the  greatest  degree 
of  freedom.  The  emperor,  incessantly  attacked  by  the 
Turks  in  his  hereditary  possessions,  was  obliged  to 
court  those  princes  and  bold  nations  whose  aid  was 
then  necessary  to  him.  Free  towns  in  the  north,  west, 
and  south  of  the  empire,  had,  by  their  trade,  their 
manufactures,  and  exertions  of  every  description,  risen 
to  a  high  degree  of  prosperity,  and  thereby  of  inde- 

3  Tlie  hatred  of  the  Roman  name,  which  rankles  in  the  minds  of  many 
nations,  is  owing,  I  suspect,  to  the  prevailing  rumours  respecting  the  murals 
of  that  city.— £rojmMj. 


STATE  OF  GERMANY. 


15 


pcndeiico;  hut  tlic  powerful  houso  of  Auslrin,  then 
iuvcstctl  witli  the  iuiporiiil  crown,  lieUl  tlio  {ireiiterimrl 
of  the  southern  Suites  of  Clcrniauy  uiuler  its  control, 
mill  closely  wiitched  their  uiovenK-iits.  It  was  prcpar- 
in"  to  extend  its  dominion  over  the  whole  empire,  and 
even  beyond  it,  when  the  Reformation  interposed  a 
uiij?hty  barrier  to  its  encroachments,  ami  saved  the 
independence  of  Europe. 

As  Judea,  when  Christianity  arose,  was  in  the  centre 
of  the  ancient  world,  so  tiermany  was  in  the  centre  of 
Christendom,  lookiu-:  at  once  toward  the  Netlierlands, 
Kn^iand,  Fniiice,  Switzerland,  Italy,  Hungary,  IJohe- 
mia,  I'olaud,  Demnark,  and  all  the  North.  It  was  in 
the  heart  of  Europe  that  the  principle  of  life  was  to 
be  developed;  and  the  beatings  of  this  heart  were  t<j 
circulate  through  lUl  the  arteries  of  the  body  the  noble 
bli>oil  which  was  to  give  animation  to  all  its  members. 

The  particular  constitution  wliich  the  empire  had 
received  conformably  to  the  dispensation  of  Provi- 
dence, favoured  the  propagation  of  new  ideas.  Had 
Germany  been  a  monarchy  properly  so  called,  like 
France  or  England,  the  arbitrary  will  of  the  monarch 
might  have  been  able  long  to  arrest  the  progress  of  the 
Gospel.  But  it  was  a  confederation.  Truth  attacked 
in  one  state  might  be  received  with  favour  in  another. 

The  internal  peace  which  Maximilian  had  jn^it 
secured  for  the  empire  was  not  less  favourable  to  the 
Rcformaliou.  For  a  long  time  the  numerous  mem- 
bers of  the  Germanic  body  had  taken  pleasure  in 
tearing  each  other.  Nought  had  been  seen  but  trouble 
and  discord,  war  incessantly  renewed,  neighbour 
against  neighbour,  town  against  town,  and  nol)le 
(igainst  noble.  Maximilian  had  given  a  solid  basis 
to  public  order,  by  erecting  the  Imperial  Chamber, 
witli  power  to  decide  in  all  questions  between  difTer- 
cnt  states.  The  inhabitants  of  Germany,  after  all 
their  troubles  and  disquietudes,  saw  the  commence- 
ment of  a  new  era  of  security  and  repose.  Neverthe- 
less, when  Luther  appeared,  Germany  still  presented 
to  the  observing  eye  that  kind  of  motion  which 
agitates  the  sea  after  long  protracted  storms.  The 
calm  was  uncertain.  More  than  one  example  of  this 
will  be  seen  as  we  proceed.  By  giving  an  entirely 
new  impulse  to  the  Germanic  nations,  the  Kcforma- 
tion  put  an  end  for  ever  to  all  the  former  causes  of 
agitation.  Destroying  the  system  of  barbarism,  which 
had  till  then  been  paramount,  it  put  Europe  in  posses- 
sion of  a  new  system. 

Christianity  had,  at  the  same  time,  exercised  a  pecu- 
liar influence  on  Germany.  The  middle  classes  had 
made  rapid  improvement.  Throughout  the  different 
<piarlers  of  the  empire,  and  more  especially  in  the  free 
towns,  were  numerous  institutions  well  fitted  to  im- 
prove the  great  mass  of  the  population.  In  these  arts 
flourished.  The  burghers,  devoting  themselves  in  se- 
curity to  the  calm  toils  and  sweet  relations  of  social 
life,  became  more  and  more  accessible  to  knowledge, 
and  in  this  way  were  contiimally  ac<[uiring  new  in- 
fluence and  authority.  The  foundation  of  the  Refor- 
mation in  Germany  was  not  to  be  laid  by  magistrates, 
who  must  often  shape  their  conduct  according  to 
political  exigencies,  nor  by  nobles  fired  with  the  love 
of  military  glory,  nor  by  a  greedy  and  ambitious 
clergj-,  working  religion  for  profit,  aa  if  it  were  their 


cxclusi\e  property.  The  task  was  reserved  for  the 
citizens,  the  commonaltv,  the  great  body  of  the 
people. 

The  national  cluiracter  of  the  Germans  was  specially 
fitted  to  adapt  itself  to  a  religious  Reformation.  No 
spuriiuis  civilization  had  enervated  it.  The  precious 
seed,  which  the  fear  of  God  depo.sils  in  the  bosom  of 
a  people,  had  not  been  thrown  to  the  winds.  Ancient 
nianiiers  yet  existed,  displaying  themselves  in  that 
integrity  and  fidelity,  that  love  of  labour,  that  perse- 
verani'c,  that  serious  temper,  which  is  still  to  be  seen, 
and  gives  presage  of  greater  success  to  the  Gospel, 
than  tlie  jeering  levity  or  boorish  temper  of  some 
other  European  nations. 

The  people  of  CJermany  were  indebted  to  Rome  for 
the  great  instrument  of  modern  civilization,  viz.,  faith, 
polish,  learning,  laws,  all,  save  their  courage  and  their 
arms,  had  come  from  the  sacerdotal  city,  and,  in 
consequence,  Germany  had  ever  after  been  in  close 
alliance  with  the  Paj)acy.  The  one  was  a  kind  of 
spiritual  conquest  by  the  other,  and  we  all  know  to 
what  purposes  Rome  has  invariably  applied  her 
conquests.  Nations  which  were  in  possessiou  of  faith 
and  civilization  before  a  Roman  pontiff  existed,  always 
maintained  in  regard  to  him  a  greater  measure  of 
independence.  Still  the  more  thorough  the  subjugation 
of  the  tiernuiii,  tlie  more  powerful  will  the  reaction  be 
when  the  ))eriod  of  awakening  shall  arrive.  "When 
Germany  does  open  her  eyes,  she  will  indignantly 
break  loose  from  the  chains  which  have  so  long  held 
her  ca])tive.  Tiie  bondage  she  has  had  to  endure  will 
make  her  more  sensible  of  her  need  of  deliverance ; 
and  freedom,  and  bold  champions  of  the  truth,  will 
come  forth  from  this  house  of  hard  labour  and  bondage, 
in  which  all  her  people  have,  for  ages,  been  confined. 

There  was,  at  that  time,  in  Germany,  what  the 
])oliticians  of  our  days  call  a  "see-saw  system."  When 
the  emperor  was  of  a  resolute  character,  his  power 
increased ;  when,  on  the  contrary,  he  wixs  of  a  feeble 
character,  the  influence  and  power  of  the  princes  and 
electors  were  enlarged.  Never  had  these  felt  them- 
selves stronger  in  regard  to  their  chief  than  in  the 
time  of  Maximilian,  at  the  period  of  the  Reforma- 
tion ;  and  as  he  took  part  against  it,  it  is  easy  to 
understand  how  favourable  the  circumstance  of  his 
comparative  weakness  must  have  been  to  the  propaga- 
tion of  the  Gospel. 

^Moreover,  Germany  was  tired  of  what  the  Romans 
derisively  styled  '-tlie  patience  of  the  Germans." 
They  had  indeed  shewn  much  patience  from  the  days 
of  Louis  of  Bavaria,  when  the  emperors  laid  down 
their  arms,  and  the  tiara  w.ns  placed,  without  opposi- 
tion, abo\e  the  crown  of  the  Ca\sars. 

The  contest,  however,  had  done  little  more  than 
change  its  place,  by  descending  several  steps.  The 
same  struggles  which  the  emperors  and  popes  had  ex- 
hibited to  tlie  world  were  soon  renewed,  on  a  smaller 
scale,  in  all  the  towns  of  Germany,  between  the 
bishops  anil  the  magistrates.  The  burghers  took  up 
the  sword  which  the  emperors  had  allowed  to  drop, 
from  their  hands.  As  early  as  1329.  the  burghers  of 
Frankfort  on  the  Oder  had  intrepidly  withstood  all 
their  ecclesiastical  superiors.  Excommunicated  for 
having  continued  faithful  to  the  Margrave  Louis,  they 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


had  been  left  for  twenty-eight  years  without  mass, 
baptism,  marriage,  or  Christian  burial ;  and,  when  the 
monks  and  priests  made  their  re-entry,  they  laughed 
at  it  as  a  comedy  or  farce, — sad  symptoms,  doubtless, 
but  symptoms  of  which  the  clerg}'  were  the  cause.  At 
the  period  of  the  Reformation  this  opposition  between 
the  magistrates  and  ecclesiastics  had  increased.  The 
privileges  of  the  former,  and  the  temporal  pretensions 
of  the  latter,  Avere  constantly  causing  jostling  and 
collision  between  the  two  bodies. 

But  burgomasters,  councillors,  and  secretai-ies  of 
towns,  were  not  the  only  persons  among  whom  Rome 
and  the  clergy  found  opponents.  Wrath  was  at  the 
same  time  fermenting  among  the  people,  and  broke  out 
as  early  as  1.502,  when  the  peasantry,  indignant  at  the 
grinding  yoke  of  their  ecclesiastical  sovereigns,  entered 
into  a  combination  which  goes  under  the  name  of  the 
Shoe-Alliance. 

Thus  everj'where,  both  in  the  upper  and  lower 
regions  of  society,  a  grumbling  sound  was  heard, — a 
precursor  of  the  thunder  which  was  soon  to  burst. 
Germany  seemed  ripe  for  the  work  which  the  six- 
teenth century  had  received  as  its  task.  Providence, 
which  moves  leisnrelj'^,  had  every  thing  prepared,  and 
the  very  passions  which  God  condemns  were  to  be 
overruled  by  His  mighty  hand  for  the  accomplisluuent 
of  His  designs. 

Let  us  see  how  other  nations  were  situated. 

Thirteen  small  republics,  placed  with  their  con- 
federates in  the  centre  of  Europe  among  mountains, 
forming,  as  it  were,  its  citadel,  contained  a  brave  and 
simple  people.  Who  would  have  gone  to  those  obscure 
valleys  in  quest  of  jjersons  who,  with  the  sons  of 
Germany,  might  be  the  deliverers  of  the  Church? 
AVho  would  have  thought  that  petty  unknown  towns, 
just  emerging  from  barbarism,  hid  behind  inaccessible 
mountains,  at  the  extremity  of  nameless  lakes,  would, 
in  point  of  Christianity,  take  precedence  of  Jerusalem, 
Antioch,  E|)1k'mi-,  Ccriiitli.  and  IJniue?  Nevertheless, 
it  so  pleased  Ilim  who  \\ill>  ihat  nne  spot  of  earth  be 
watered  with  iKv..  ami  that  another  spot  on  which  the 
rain  has  not  de^^■ellde(l  sludl  rcuiain  parelied.  (Amos.) 

There  were  other  circumstances  besides  wliicli  might 
have  been  expected  to  thrownumerous  olistacles  in  the 
way  of  the  Reformation  among  the  Helvetic  Republics. 
If,  in  a  monarchy,  the  impediments  of  ])ower  were  to 
he  dreaded,  the  thing  to  be  feared  in  a  democracy  was 
tlie  precipitation  of  the  people. 

But  Switzerland  had  also  had  its  preparations.  It 
was  a  wild  but  noble  tree,  which  had  been  preserved  in 
the  bosom  of  the  v.alleys,  in  order  that  a  valuable  fruit 
might  one  day  be  engrafted  on  it.  Providence  had 
diffused  among  this  new  people  principles  of  indepen- 
dence and  freedom,  destined  to  display  their  full  power 
whenever  the  signal  for  contest  with  Rome  should  be 
given.  The  pope  had  given  the  Swiss  the  title  of 
Protectors  of  the  Liberty  of  the  Church;  but  they 
seem  to  have  taken  the  honom-able  appellation  in  a 
very  different  sense  from  the  pontiff.  If  their  soldiers 
guarded  the  pope  in  the  vicinity  of  the  ancient  Capitol, 
their  citizens,  in  the  boBom  of  the  Alps,  carefully 
guarded  their  religious  liberties  against  the  assaults  of 
the  pope  and  the  clergy.  Ecclesiastics  were  forljidden 
to  apply  to  a  foreign  jurisdiction.     The  '•  Letter  of  the 


Priests  "  (Pfaffenbrief,  1370)  was  an  energetic  protes- 
tation of  Swiss  liberty  against  the  abuses  and  power 
of  the  clergy.  Amongst  these  states,  Zurich  was  dis- 
tinguished for  its  courageous  opposition  to  the  preten- 
sions of  Rome.  Geneva,  at  the  other  extremity  of 
Switzerland,  was  at  war  with  its  bishop.  These  two 
towns  particularly  signalized  themselves  in  the  great 
struggle  which  we  have  undertaken  to  describe. 

But  if  tlte  Swiss  towns,  accessible  to  every  kind  of 
improvement,  were  among  the  first  to  fall  in  with  the 
movement  of  reform,  it  was  otherwse  with  the  inhabi- 
tants of  the  mountains.  The  light  had  not  yet  travelled 
so  far.  These  cantons,  the  founders  of  Swiss  freedom, 
proud  of  the  part  which  they  had  performed  in  the 
great  struggle  for  independence,  were  not  readily  dis- 
posed to  imitate  their  younger  brethren  of  the  plains. 
Whj'  change  the  faith  with  which  they  had  chased 
Austria,  and  which  had,  by  its  altars,  consecrated  all 
the  scenes  of  their  triinnph  ?  Then-  priests  were  the 
only  enlightened  guides  to  whom  they  could  hava 
recoiu-se.  Their  worship  and  their  festivals  g.ave  a 
turn  to  the  monotony  of  their  tranquil  life,  and  j 
plciisantly  broke  the  silence  of  their  peaceful  retreats. 
They  remained  impervious  to  religions  innovation. 

On  crossing  the  Alps,  we  find  ourselves  in  that  Italy 
which  was,  in  the  eyes  of  the  majority,  the  Holy  Land 
of  Christendom.  Whence  should  Europe  have  ex- 
pected the  good  of  the  Church  if  not  from  Italy — if 
not  from  Rome  ?  Might  not  the  power  wliieh  by  turns 
raised  so  many  different  characters  to  the  pontifical 
chair,  one  day  place  in  it  a  pontiff  who  would  become 
an  instrument  of  blessing  to  the  heritage  of  the  Lord  ? 
Or  if  pontiffs  were  to  be  despaired  of,  were  there  not 
bishops  and  councils  who  might  reform  the  Church '? 
Nothing  good  comes  out  of  Nazereth  ;  but  out  of  Jeru- 
salem— out  of  Rome  I  .  .  .  Such  might  be  the 
thoughts  of  men,  but  God  thought  otherwise.  He 
said,  -'Let  him  who  is  filthy,  be  filthy  still,"  (Rev. 
xxii.,)  and  abandoned  Italy  to  her  iniquities.  This 
land  of  ancient  glory  was  alternately  a  prey  to  intes- 
tine wars  and  foreign  invasion.  The  wiles  of  politics, 
the  violence  of  faction,  the  turmoil  of  war,  seemed  to 
h.avc  sole  sway,  and  to  banish  far  away  both  the  Gos- 
pel and  its  peace. 

Besides,  Italy,  broken,  dismembered,  and  without 
unity,  seemed  little  fitted  to  receive  a  common  im- 
pulse. Each  frontier  was  a  new  barrier  where  truth 
was  aiTested. 

And  if  the  truth  was  to  come  from  the  North,  how 
could  the  Italians,  with  a  taste  so  refined,  and  a  society 
in  their  eyes  so  exquisite,  condescend  to  receive  any 
thing  at  the  hands  of  barbarous  Germans?  Were 
men  who  admired  the  cadence  of  a  sonnet  more  than 
the  majesty  and  simplicity  of  the  Scriptures,  a  pro- 
pitious soil  for  the  seed  of  the  divine  word  ?  But  be 
this  as  it  may  in  regard  to  Italy,  Rome  was  still  to 
continue  Rome.  Not  only  did  the  temporal  power  of 
the  popes  dispose  the  different  Italian  factions  to  pur- 
chase their  alliance  and  favour  at  any  jirice ;  but,  in 
addition  to  this,  the  universal  .ascendancy  of  Rome 
liresonted  various  attractions  to  the  avarice  and  vanity 
of  the  ulti'amontane  states.  The  moment  tliat  the 
question  of  emancipating  the  rest  of  the  world  from 
Rome  should  be   raised,  Italy  would   again   become 


SPAIN-PORTUGAL-FRANCE. 


17 


Italy,  iloniestii!  quiurcls  would  not  prevail  to  the 
ailvantape  of  a  foreign  system.  Attacks  on  the  liead 
of  the  IV-iiinsular  family  would  at  once  revive  iiffcc- 
lions  and  common  interests  which  had  long  been  in 
uboyiuico. 

The  Reformation  had,  therefore,  little  cluuice  in 
that  quarter.  And  yet  there  did  exist,  beyond  the 
mountains,  individuals  who  had  been  prepared  to  re- 
ceive the  Gos[)el  light,  and  Italy  was  not  entirely  dis- 
inherited. 

Spain  had  what  Italy  bad  not — a  grave,  noble,  and 
religiously-disposed  peojde.  At  all  times  has  il  num- 
bered men  of  i)icty  and  Icaining  among  its  clergy, 
while  it  was  distant  enough  from  Rome  to  be  able 
easily  to  shake  off  the  yoke.  There  are  few  nations 
where  one  might  have  more  reasonably  hoped  for  a 
reviviU  of  that  primitive  Christianity  which  Spain, 
perhaps,  received  from  St.  Paul  himself.  And  yet 
Spain  did  not  raise  her  head  among  the  nations.  She 
was  destined  to  fulfil  the  declaration  of  Divine  Wis- 
dom,— '-The  first  shall  be  last."  Various  circum- 
stances led  to  this  sad  result. 

Spain,  in  consequence  of  its  isolated  position,  and 
its  distance  from  Germany,  must  have  felt  only  slight 
shocks  of  the  great  earthquake  which  so  \iulently 
heaved  the  empire.  It  was,  moreover,  engrossed  with 
treasures  very  different  from  those  which  the  word  of 
God  then  offered  to  the  nations.  The  new  world 
eclipsed  the  eternal  world.  A  land  altogether  new, 
aiid  apparently  of  silver  and  gold,  inflamed  all  imagi- 
nations. An  ardent  desire  for  riches  left  no  room  in 
a  Spanish  heart  for  nobler  thoughts.  A  powerfid 
clergy,  with  scaffolds  and  treasures  at  its  disposal, 
ruled  the  Peninsula.  The  Spaniard  willingly  yielded 
a  servile  obedience  to  his  priests,  who,  disburdening 
him  of  the  ])rior  claims  of  spiritual  occupation,  left 
him  free  to  follow  his  passions,  and  to  run  the  way  of 
riches,  discoveries,  and  new  continents.  Victorious 
over  the  Jloors,  Spain  had,  at  the  expense  of  her 
noblest  blood,  pulled  down  the  crescent  from  the  walls 
of  Grenada,  and  many  other  cities,  and,  in  its  place, 
])lnnted  the  cross  of  Jesus  Christ.  This  great  zeal  for 
Christianity,  which  seemed  to  give  bright  hopes,  turned 
against  the  truth.  AVhy  should  Catholic  Spain,  which 
had  vanquished  infidelity,  not  o]ipose  heresy?  IIow 
should  those  who  had  chased  Mohammed  from  their 
lovely  country  allow  Luther  to  penetrate  into  it  ?  Their 
kings  did  even  more.  They  fitted  out  fieets  against 
the  Heformalion.  and  in  their  eagerness  to  vanquish 
it,  went  to  seek  it  in  Holland  and  England.  But  these 
attacks  aggrandized  the  nations  against  which  they 
were  directed,  and  their  power  soon  crushed  Spain. 
In  this  way  these  Catholic  regions  lost,  through  the 
Reformation,  even  that  temporal  prosperity  which  was 
the  primary  cause  of  their  rejection  of  the  spiritual 
liberty  of  the  Gospel.  Nevertheless,  it  was  a  brave 
and  generous  people  that  dwelt  beyond  the  Pyrenees. 
Several  of  their  noble  sons  with  the  same  ardour,  but 
with  more  light  than  those  who  had  shed  their  blood 
in  Moorish  dungeons,  came  to  lay  their  life,  as  an 
offering,  on  the  faggot  piles  of  the  Inquisition. 

It  was  nearly  the  same  with  Portugal  as  with  Spain. 
Emmanuel  the  Happy  gave  it  an  age  of  gold,  which 
must  have  imfitted  it  for  the  self-denial  which  the 


Gospel  demands.  The  Portuguese,  rushing  into  the 
recently  discovered  routes  to  the  East  Indies  and 
Brazil,  turned  their  backs  on  Europe  and  the  Refor- 
mation. 

Few  nations  might  have  been  thought  more  disposed 
than  France  to  receive  the  Gospel.  Almost  all  the 
intellectual  and  spiritual  life  of  the  middle  ages  centred 
in  her.  One  would  have  said  that  the  paths  were 
already  beaten  for  a  gi-eat  manifestation  of  the  truth. 
Men  who  were  the  most  opposed  to  each  other,  and 
who  had  the  greatest  influence  on  the  French  peo](le, 
felt  that  they  had  some  allinity  with  the  Reformation. 
St.  Bernard  had  given  an  example  of  that  heart-felt 
faith,  that  inward  piety,  which  is  the  finest  feature  of 
the  Reformation ;  while  Abelard  had  iiUroduccd  into 
the  study  of  theology  that  reasoning  ])rincii)le,  which, 
incapable  of  establishing  truth,  is  powerful  in  destroy- 
ing falsehood.  Numerous  heretics,  so  called,  had  re- 
kindled tlie  flames  of  the  word  of  God  in  the  French 
provinces.  The  University  of  Paris  hail  withstood  the 
Church  to  the  face,  and  not  feared  to  combat  her.  At 
the  beginning  of  the  fifteenth  century,  the  Clemangis 
and  the  Gersons  had  spoken  out  boldly.  The  prag- 
matic sanction  had  been  a  great  act  of  independence, 
and  promised  to  prove  the  palladium  of  the  Gallican 
liberties.  The  French  nobility,  so  numerous  and  so 
jealous  of  their  precedence,  and  who,  at  this  period, 
had  just  seen  their  privileges  gradually  suppressed  to 
the  extension  of  the  influence  of  the  crown,  )nust  have 
felt  favourably  disposed  towards  a  religious  revolution, 
the  effect  of  which  might  be  to  restore  a  portion  of  the 
independence  which  they  had  lost.  The  people — 
lively,  intelligent,  and  open  to  generous  emotions — 
were  accessible  to  the  truth  in  a  degree  as  great,  if 
not  greater,  than  any  other  people.  The  Reformation 
might  have  promised  to  be,  in  this  nation,  the  birth 
that  was  to  crown  the  long  travail  of  many  ages. 
But  the  Church  of  France,  which  seemed  for  so  many 
generations  to  have  been  rushing  in  the  same  direction, 
turned  suddenly  round  at  the  moment  of  the  Reforma- 
tion, and  took  quite  a  contrary  direction.  Such  was 
the  will  of  Him  who  guides  nations  and  their  rulers. 
The  prince  who  then  sat  in  the  chariot  and  held  the 
reins,  and  who,  as  a  lover  of  letters,  might  have  been 
thought  likely  to  be  the  first  to  second  reform,  threw 
his  people  into  another  course.  The  symptoms  of 
several  centuries  proved  fallacious,  and  the  impulse 
given  to  France  struck  and  spent  itself  on  the  ambi- 
tion and  fanaticism  of  its  kings.  The  Valois  took  the 
place  which  she  ought  to  have  occupied.  Perhaps,  if 
she  had  received  the  Gospel,  she  would  have  become 
too  powerful.  God  was  pleased  to  take  the  feeblest 
nations — nations  that  as  yet  were  not — to  make  them 
the  depositaries  of  His  truth.  France,  after  having 
been  almost  reformed,  ultimately  found  herself  again  be- 
come Roman  Catholic.  The  sword  of  princes  thrown 
into  the  scale,  made  it  incline  towards  Rome.  Alas ! 
another  sword,  that  of  the  Reformed  themselves,  com- 
pleted the  ruin  of  the  Reformation.  Hands  habituated 
to  the  sword,  unlearned  to  j^ray.  It  is  by  the  blood 
of  its  confessors,  and  not  by  that  of  its  enemies,  that 
the  Gospel  triumphs. 

At  this  time  the  Netherlands  was  one  of  the  most 
flourishing  countries  in  Europe.     It  contained  an  in- 


IS 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


dustrious  population,  enlightened  by  the  numerous 
relations  -ivhich  it  maintained  with  the  different  quar- 
ters of  the  world,  full  of  corn-age,  and  zealous  to 
excess  for  its  independence,  its  privileges,  and  its  free- 
dom. Placed  on  the  threshold  of  Germany,  it  must 
have  been  one  of  the  first  to  hear  the  sound  of  the 
Eeformation.  Two  parties,  quite  distinct  from  each 
other,  occupied  these  provinces.  The  more  southern 
one  was  sm-feited  with  wealth,  and  submitted.  How 
could  all  those  manufactures,  carried  to  the  highest 
perfection — how  could  that  boundless  traffic  by  land 
and  sea — how  could  Bruges,  the  great  entrepot  of  the 
trade  of  the  north — how  could  Antwerp,  that  queen 
of  commercial  cities,  accommodate  themselves  to  a 
long  and  sanguinary  struggle  for  points  of  faith?  On 
the  contrary,  the  northern  provinces,  defended  by  their 
sands,  the  sea,  and  their  inland  waters  ;  and  still  more, 
by  the  simplicity  of  their  manners,  and  their  determi- 
nation to  lose  all  sooner  than  the  Gospel,  not  only 
saved  their  franchises,  their  privileges,  and  their  faith, 
but  also  conquered  their  independence,  and  a  glorious 
national  character. 

England  scarcely  seemed  to  promise  what  she  has 
since  performed.  Repulsed  from  the  Continent,  where 
she  had  so  long  been  obstinately  bent  on  conquering 
France,  she  began  to  throw  her  eye  towards  the  ocean, 
as  the  domain  which  was  to  be  the  true  scene  of  her 
conquests,  and  which  was  reserved  for  her  inheritance. 
Twice  converted  to  Clu-istianity^-ouce  under  the  an- 
cient Britons,  and  the  second  time  under  the  Anglo- 
Saxons, — she  very  devoutly  paid  to  Home  the  annual 
tribute  of  St.  Peter.  But  she  was  reserved  for  high 
destinies.  Mistress  of  the  ocean,  and  present  at  once 
in  all  the  different  quarters  of  the  globe,  she,  ivith  the 
nations  that  were  to  spring  from  her,  was  one  day  to 
be  the  hand  of  God  in  shedding  the  seeds  of  life  over 
the  remotest  islands  and  the  largest  continents.  Al- 
ready several  circumstances  gave  a  presentiment  of  her 
destiny.  Bright  lights  had  shone  in  the  British  Isles, 
and  some  glimmerings  still  remained.  A  multitude  of 
foreigners,  artists,  merchants,  and  mechanics,  arriving 
from  the  Netherlands,  Germany,  and  other  countries, 
filled  their  cities  and  their  sea-ports.  The  new  reli- 
gious ideas  must  have  been  conveyed  easily  and  rapidly. 
In  fine,  the  reigning  monarch  was  an  eccentric  prince, 
who,  possessed  of  some  knowledge  and  great  courage, 
was  every  moment  changing  his  projects  and  ideas, 
and  turning  from  side  to  side,  according  to  the  direc- 
tion in  which  his  violent  passions  blew.  It  was  pos- 
sible that  one  of  the  inconsistencies  of  Hemy  YIII. 
might  prove  favoiu-ablo  to  the  Eeformation. 

Scotland  was  at  this  time  agitated  by  factions.  A 
king  five  years  old,  a  queen  regent,  ambitious  nobles, 
and  an  influential  clergy,  kept  this  bold  nation  in  con- 
stant turmoil.  It  was,  nevertheless,  one  day  to  hold  a 
first  place  among  those  that  received  the  Reformation. 

The  three  kingdoms  of  the  North — Denmark,  Sweden, 
and  Norway — were  united  under  a  common  sceptre. 
These  rude  and  wai-like  nations  seemed  to  have  little 
in  common  with  the  doctrine  of  love  and  peace.  Ajid 
yet,  by  their  very  energy,  they  were,  perhaps,  more 
disposed  than  the  people  of  the  South  to  receive  the 
evangelical  doctrine  in  its  power.  But,  the  descendants 
of  warriors  and  pii-ates,  thev  brought,  it  would  seem, 


too  warlike  a  character  to  the  Protestant  cause ;  at  a 
later  period,  their  sword  defended  it  Avith  heroism. 

Russia,  retired  at  the  extremity  of  Europe,  had  few 
relations  with  other  states,  and  belonged,  moreover,  to 
the  Greek  communion.  The  Reformation  effected  in 
the  Western  exerted  little  or  no  influence  on  tho 
Eastern  Church. 

Poland  seemed  well  prepared  for  a  reform.  The 
vicinity  of  the  Christians  of  Bohemia  and  Moravia  had 
disposed  it  to  receive,  while  the  vicinity  of  Germany 
must  have  rapidly  communicated,  the  evangelical  im- 
pidse.  So  early  as  loOO,  the  nobility  of  Poland 
Proper  had  demanded  the  cup  for  the  laity,  appealing 
to  the  usage  of  the  primitive  Church.  The  liberty 
enjoyed  by  its  towns,  and  the  independence  of  its 
nobles,  made  it  a  safe  asylum  for  Christians  perse- 
cuted in  their  own  country,  and  the  truth  which  they 
brought  thither  was  received  with  joy  by  a  great 
number  of  its  inliabitants.  In  our  days,  however,  it 
is  one  of  the  countries  which  has  the  smallest  number 
of  confessors. 

The  flame  of  reformation,  which  had  long  gleamed 
in  Bohemia,  had  been  almost  extinguished  in  blood. 
Nevertheless,  precious  remains,  which  had  escaped  the 
carnage,  still  survived  to  see  the  day  of  which  John 
Huss  had  a  presentiment. 

Hungary  had  been  torn  by  intestine  wars  under  the 
government  of  princes  without  character  and  without 
experience,  and  who  had  at  last  yoked  the  fate  of  their 
people  to  Austria,  by  giving  this  powerful  House'  a 
place  among  the  heirs  of  the  crown. 

Such  was  the  state  of  Europe  at  the  beginning  of 
the  sixteenth  century,  which  was  destined  to  produce 
so  mighty  a  transformation  in  Christian  society. 


CHAPTER  YI. 

Roman  Theology — Remains  of  Life— Justification  by  Faith — Witnesses  for 
the  Truth— Claude— The  Mystics— The  Vaudois— Valdo— Wickliffe— 
Huss — Prediction— Protestantism  before  the  Reformation — Anioldi — 
Utenheira— Martin— New  Witnesses  in  the  Church— Thomas  Conecte 
—The  Cardinal  of  Crayn  —  Institoris— Savonarola— Justification  by 
Faith — John  Vitraire — John  Laillier — John  of  Wessalia — John  of  Goch 
— John  Wesscl— Protestantism  before  the  Reformation — The  Bohemian 
Brethren — Prophecy  of  Proles — Prophecy  of  the  Fmnriscan  of  Isenaoh 
— Tliird  Preparative— Literature. 

Having  pointed  out  the  state  of  nations  and  princes, 
we  now  proceed  to  the  preparation  for  Reform,  as 
existing  in  Theology  and  in  the  Church. 

The  singular  system  of  Theology  wliich  had  been 
established  in  the  Church  must  have  powerfully  con- 
tributed to  open  the  eyes  of  the  rising  generation. 
Made  for  an  age  of  darkness,  as  if  such  an  age  had 
been  to  exist  for  ever,  it  seemed  destined  to  becomo 
obsolete  and  defective  in  all  its  parts  as  soon  as  llu^ 
age  should  have  improved. .  Such  was  the  actual  re- 
sult. The  popes  had  from  time  to  time  made  various 
additions  to  Christian  doctrine.  They  had  changed  or 
taken  away  whatever  did  not  accord  with  their  hier- 
archy; while  anything  not  contrary  to  their  system  was 
allowed  to  remain  till  further  orders.    This  system 


JUSTIFICATION  BY  FAITH. 


19 


contiiiiu'tl  true  iloolriues,  such  us  iviKinptioii,  imil  the 
iulliieiici)  of  tlio  Holy  Spirit;  ami  (liese  iiu  iiblo  thco- 
loginn,  if  niij-  such  then  existed,  ini^rht  iiiivo  employed 
to  eombat  niid  overthrow  all  tiie  rest.  The  pure  gold, 
liiiiiftled  with  the  worthless  lead  in  the  treasury  of  the 
Vntioau,  made  it  easy  to  detect  the  imposition.  It  is 
true,  that  when  any  bold  opponent  called  attention  to 
it,  tho  fanner  of  Rome  immediately  threw  ont  the  pure 
grain.  But  these  very  proceedinj,'s  only  increased  the 
confusion. 

This  confusion  was  unbounded,  and  the  pretended 
unity  was  only  a  heap  of  disunion.  At  Rome  there 
were  doctrines  of  tho  Court,  and  doctrines  of  the 
Church.  Tho  faith  of  tho  metropolis  differed  from  the 
faith  of  tho  provinces;  while  in  the  ju-ovinces.  again, 
tho  variation  was  endless.  There  was  a  faith  for 
l)rince9,  n  faith  for  the  people,  and  a  faith  for  religions 
orders.  Opinions  were  classed  as  belonging  to  such  a 
convent,  such  a  district,  such  a  doctor,  such  a  monk. 

Truth,  in  order  to  pass  peacefully  through  tho  time 
when  Rome  would  have  crushed  her  with  an  iron 
sceptre,  had  done,  like  the  insect  which  with  its  threads 
forms  the  chrysalis  in  which  it  shuts  itself  up  during 
the  cold  season.  And  str.inge  enough,  the  instruments 
which  divine  truth  had  employed  for  the  purpose  were 
tho  so  much  decried  schoolmen.  These  industrious 
artisans  of  thought  had  employed  themselves  in  mi- 
ravelling  all  theological  ideas,  and  out  of  the  numerous 
threads  had  made  a  veil  under  which  the  ablest  of  their 
contemporaries  must  have  found  it  dithcult  to  recognize 
the  truth  in  its  original  purity.  It  seems  a  snd  thing, 
that  an  insect,  full  of  life,  and  sometimes  glowing  with 
the  most  brilliant  colours,  shoidd  enclose  itself,  appa- 
rently without  life,  in  its  dark  cocoon;  and  yet  it  is  the 
dhroud  that  saves  it.  It  was  the  same  with  truth. 
Hud  the  selfish  aiul  sinister  policy  of  Rome,  in  the  days 
of  her  ascendancy,  met  the  truth  in  naked  simplicity, 
she  would  have  destroyed,  or  at  least  tried  to  destroy 
it ;  but  disguised  as  it  was,  by  the  theologians  of  the 
time,  under  subtleties  and  endless  distinctions,  the  popes 
either  suw  it  not,  or  thought  that,  in  such  a  state,  it 
coidd  not  do  them  harm.  They  accordingly  jiatronized 
both  tho  workmen  and  their  work.  But  spring  might 
come,  and  then  forgotten  truth  might  lift  her  head  and 
throw  aside  her  shroud.  In  her  seeming  tomb,  having 
uc<|uired  new  strength,  she  might  now  again  prove 
victorious  over  Rome  and  all  its  eiTors.  This  spring 
arrived.  At  the  moment  when  the  absurd  trappings 
of  the  schoolmen  were  falling  off  under  the  attack  of 
skilful  hands,  and  amid  the  jeers  of  the  new  generation, 
truth  made  her  escape,  and  came  forth  all  young  and 
beautiful. 

But  not  merely  did  the  writings  of  the  schoolmen 
bear  powerful  testimony  in  favour  of  truth.  Christi- 
anity hud  ever_\-where  imparted  a  portion  of  her  own 
life  to  the  life  of  the  people.  The  Church  of  Christ 
was  like  a  building  which  had  fallen  into  ruin;  in 
digging  among  its  foundations,  a  jiortion  of  the  solid 
rock  on  which  it  had  been  originally  founded  was 
discovered.  Several  institutions,  which  dated  from  the 
pure  times  of  the  Church,  were  still  existing,  and  could 
not  fail  to  suggest  to  many  minds  evangelical  ideius 
utterly  at  variance  with  the  prevailing  superstitions. 
Moreover,  the  inspired  ^^Tite^3  and  ancient  doctors  of 


the  Church,  whose  writings  weru  extant  in  many 
libraries,  occasionally  sent  forth  a  solitary  voice;  and 
nu\y  we  not  hope  that  this  voice  was  listened  to  in 
silence  by  more  than  one  attentive  ear?  Let  us  not 
doubt,  (and  how  sweet  tho  thought!)  Christians  had 
many  brothers  and  many  sisters  in  those  monasteries, 
in  which  we  arc  too  ready  to  see  nothing  but  hypocrisy 
and  dissoluteness. 

Tho  CIiiutIi  had  fallen  in  conseipicncc  of  having  lost 
the  grand  doctrine  of  .lustilicatiou  by  faith  in  tho 
Saviour;  and  hence,  before  she  could  rise,  it  was  ne- 
cessary that  this  doctrine  should  be  restored.  As  soon 
as  it  was  re-established  in  Christeiuloin,  all  the  errors 
and  observances  which  had  been  introduced,  all  that 
multitude  of  saints,  pious  works,  ])enanccs,  masses, 
indulgenci's,  iVc,  behoved  to  disappear.  As  soon  as 
the  one  ^Mediator  and  His  one  sacrifice  were  recognized, 
all  other  mediators  and  other  sacrifices  were  done  away. 
"This  article  of  justification,"  says  one  whom  we  may 
regard  as  divinely  illumined  on  the  subject,'  "  is  that 
wliich  creates  the  Church,  nourishes,  builds  up.  pre- 
serves, and  defends  her.  Is  o  man  can  teach  well  in  the 
Church,  or  successively  resist  an  adversary,  unless  he 
hold  fast  by  this  truth.  This,"  adds  the  writer  from 
whom  wo  quote,  "  is  tho  heel  which  bruises  tlie  Ser- 
pent's head." 

God,  who  was  preparing  His  work,  raised  up  during 
the  revolution  of  ages  a  long  series  of  witnesses  to  the 
truth.  But  the  truth  to  wliicli  tliosc  noble  men  bore 
testimony,  they  knew  not  with  sullicicnt  clearness,  or  at 
least  were  unable  to  expound  with  sullieient  distinctness. 
Incapable  of  accomplishing  the  work,  they  were  just 
what  they  should  lia\  e  been  iii  order  to  prep.irc  it.  We 
must  add,  however,  that  if  they  were  not  ready  for  the 
work,  the  work  was  not  ready  for  them.  The  measure 
was  not  yet  tilled  uj).  Ages  hatl  not  accomplished  their 
destined  course,  and  the  need  of  a  true  remedy  was  not 
generally  felt. 

No  sooner  had  Rome  uswped  power  than  a  power- 
ful opposition  was  formed  against  her, — an  opposition 
which  extended  across  the  middle  ages. 

In  the  ninth  century.  Archbishop  Claude  of  Turin, 
and  in  the  twelfth  cc-ntury,  Peter  of  Bruges,  his  disci- 
ple Henry,  and  Arnold  of  Brescia,  in  France  and  in 
Italy,  endeavour  to  establish  the  worship  of  God  in 
spirit  and  in  truth.  Generally,  however,  in  searching 
for  this  worship,  they  confine  it  too  much  to  the  exclu- 
sion of  images  and  external  observances. 

The  Mystics,  who  have  existed  in  almost  all  ages, 
seeking  in  silence  for  holiness  of  heart,  purity  of  life, 
and  tranquil  communion  with  God,  cast  looks  of  sad- 
ness and  dismay  on  the  desolation  of  the  Church. 
Carefully  abstaining  from  the  scholastic  brawls  and 
useless  discussions  under  which  true  piety  had  been 
buried,  they  endeavoured  to  withdraw  men  from  the 
vain  mechanism  of  external  worship,  and  from  the  mire 
and  glare  of  ceremonies,  that  they  might  lead  them  to 
the  internal  repose  enjoyed  by  the  soul  which  seeks  all 
its  happiness  in  God.  This  they  could  not  do  without 
coming  at  every  point  into  collision  with  accredited 
opinions,  and  without  unveiling  the  sores  of  the 
Church.  Still  they  had  no  clear  view  of  the  doctrine 
of  justification  by  faith. 

1  Lutlicr  to  Bn^ntius. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


The  Vaudois,  far  superior  to  the  Mystics  in  purity 
of  doctrine,  form  a  long  chain  of  witnesses  to  the  truth. 
Men  enjoying  more  freedom  than  the  rest  of  the 
Church,  appear  to  have  inhabited  the  lieights  of  the 
Alps  in  Piedmont  from  ancient  times ;  and  their  num- 
bers were  increased,  and  their  doctrine  purified,  by  the 
followers  of  Valdo.  From  their  mountain  tops  the 
Vaudois,  dming  a  long  series  of  ages,  protest  against  the 
superstitions  of  Rome.'  "  They  contend  for  the  living 
hope  which  they  have  in  God  through  Christ,  for  re- 
generation, and  inward  renewal  by  faith,  hope,  and 
charity,  for  the  merits  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  the  all- 
sufficiency  of  His  righteousness  and  grace."  ° 

.Still,  however,  this  primary  truth  of  a  sinner's  justi- 
fication, this  capital  doctrine,  which  ought  to  have  risen 


from  the  midst  of  their  doctrines,  like  Mont  Blanc 
from  the  bosom  of  the  Alps,  has  not  due  prominence  in 
their  system.     Its  top  is  not  high  enough. 

In  1170,  Peter  Vaud,  or  Valdo,  a  rich  merchant  at 
Lyons,  sells  all  his  goods  and  gives  to  the  poor.  He, 
as  well  as  his  friends,  seem  to  have  had  it  in  view 
practically  to  realize  the  perfection  of  primitive  Chris- 
tianity. He,  accordingly,  begins  in  like  manner  with 
the  branches,  and  not  the  root.  Nevertheless,  his  word 
is  powerful,  because  of  his  appeal  to  Scripture,  and 
shakes  the  Roman  hierarchy  to  its  very  foundations. 

In  1360,  Wickliffe  appears  in  England,  and  appeals 
from  the  pope  to  the  word  of  God;  but  the  real  inter- 
nal sore  of  the  Church  is,  in  his  eyes,  only  one  of  the 
numerous  symptoms  of  disease. 


John  IIuss  lifts  his  voice  in  lioliemia  a  century  l)e- 
fore  Lutlier  lifts  his  in  Saxouy.  He  seems  to  penetrate 
farther  than  his  predpop-ifiors  into  the  essence  of 
Christian  truth.  He  :i-k~  ('liri>i  to  give  him  grace  to 
glory  only  in  His  cross.  :iiiil  in  tin'  inestimable  weight  of 
His  sufferings ;  but  his  attentiuu  i>  directed  less  against 
the  errors  of  the  Roman  Church,  than  the  scandalous 
lives  of  its  clergy.  He  was,  however,  if  we  may  so 
speak,  the  John  Baptist  of  the  Reformation.  The  flames 
of  his  martyrdom  kindled  a  fire  in  the  Church,  which 
threw  immense  light  on  the  surrounding  darkness,  and 
the  rays  of  which  were  not  to  be  so  easily  extinguished. 

John  Huss  did  more;  prophetic  words  came  forth 
from  the  depth  of  his  dungeon.    He  had  a  presentiment, 

•  NoWa  Leyson. 

s  Treatise  of  Autichi-ist,  of  the  same  age  as  ttie  Nobla  LeyQon. 


that  the  true  Reformation  of  the  Cliurch  was  at  hand 
So  early  as  the  period  when,  chased  from  Prague,  he 
had  been  forced  to  wander  in  the  plains  of  Bohemia, 
where  his  steps  were  followed  by  an  immense  crowd  of 
eager  hearers,  he  had  exclaimed,  "  The  wicked  have 
begun  to  lay  perfidious  nets  for  the  Bohemian  goose  ;^ 
but  if  even  the  goose,  which  is  only  a  domestic  fowl,  a 
peaceful  bird,  and  which  never  takes  a  lofty  flight  into 
the  air,  has,  however,  broken  their  toils,  other  birds  of 
loftier  wing  will  break  them  with  much  greater  force. 
Instead  of  a  feeble  goose,  the  truth  will  send  eagles  and 
falcons,  with  piercing  eye."  The  Reformers  fulfilled 
this  prediction. 

And  after  the  venerable  priest  had  been  summoned 
before  the  Council  of  Constance,  after  he  had  been 

3  111  Boliemiaii,  Huss  means  "goose." 


JOHN  HUSS-HTS  DREAM. 


21 


thrown  into  pri.-ton,  the  cliiipd  of  Ik'tlik-luMn,  where  he 
Imd  proi-lninieil  the  Gi)spol  lunl  tin-  fiitnre  triumphs  of 
Jesus  Christ,  occupied  him  more  timii  his  defence. 
One  niifiit  the  holy  martyr  tiiou^lit  lie  H!iw,  in  the 
depth  of  his  dungeon,  tiio  fealines  of  Jesus  Christ, 
which  ho  had  cause  to  be  ])aiutcd  on  the  walls  of  liis 
study,  cffiiccd  by  the  pope  and  the  bishops.  The  dream 
distresses  him;  but  next  day  he  sees  several  painters 
employed  in  restoring  the  pictures  in  greater  number 
nnd  splendour.  Their  task  finished,  the  painters,  sur- 
rounded by  n  {Treat  nudtitnde,  exclaim,  "  Now,  let 
popes  and  bishops  come,  they  ne\cr  shall  efface  them 
more."  John  IIuss  adds,  "Many  people  in  Bethlehem 
rejoiced,  and  I  amonp;  them."  "Think  of  your  de- 
fence, rather  than  of  dream-'."  said  his  faithful  friend. 
Chevalier  de  Chlum,  to  wli-iii  hr  1i:m1  ciMiiiiiuDicMtril 


the  dream.  "I  am  not  a  dreamer,"  replied  IIuss; 
"but  this  I  hold  for  certain — the  imap;e  of  Christ 
will  never  be  effaceil.  They  wished  to  destroy  it,  but 
it  will  bo  painted  anew  in  men's  hearts  by  far  abler 
preachers  than  I.  The  nation  which  loves  Jesus  Christ 
will  rejoice;  and  I,  awaking  among  the  dead,  and, 
so  to  speak,  rising  again  from  the  tomb,  will  tlirill 
with  joy." 

A  century  elapsed,  and  tho  torch  of  the  Gospel, 

1   rekindled   by  the   Reformers,    did,    in   fact,   illumine 
several  nations  which  rejoiced  in  its  light. 

But  in  those  ages  a  word  of  life  is  heard  not  only 

I   among  those  whom  Rome  regards  as  its  adversaries ; 
Catholicity  itself — let  us  say  it  for  our  comfort — con- 

'   tiiiiis  in  its  bosom  numerous  witnesses  to  the  truth. 
Tlic  uriniilivc  cilirico  li:is  licen  consumed;  but  a  noble 


fire  is  slumbering  under  its  m-Iios,  nw\  \w  sii' 
time  to  time  throwing  out  brilliant  sparks. 

It  is  an  error  to  suppose  that,  up  to  the  Reformation, 
Christianity  existed  only  under  the  Roman  Catholic 
form;  and  that,  at  that  period  only,  a  part  of  that 
church  assumed  the  form  of  Protestantism. 

Among  the  doctors  who  preceded  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury, a  great  number,  doubtless,  inclined  to  the  system 
which  the  Council  of  Trent  proclaimed  in  1.5G2;  but 
several  also  inclined  to  the  doctrines  professed  at 
Augsburg,  in  l.")30,  by  the  Protestants — the  majority, 
perhaps,  vibrated  between  the  two. 

Anselm  of  Canterbury  lays  down  the  doctrines  of  the 
incarnation  and  expiation  .is  of  the  essence  of  Chris- 
tianity. And  in  a  treatise,  in  which  he  teaches  how  to 
die,  he  says  to  the  dying  person,  "  Look  only  to  the 
menu  of  Jesus  Christ."  St.  Bernard,  with  powerful 
voice,  proclaims  the  m3-stery  of  redemption.     "  If  my 


comes  from  another,"  says  he,  "  wliy  .-hould  n>t 
my  righteousness  also  be  derived  ?  Certainly,  it  is  far 
better  for  me  to  have  it  given  me,  than  to  have  it  in- 
nate." Several  schoolmen,  and  after  them  Chancellor 
Gerson,  forcibly  attack  the  errors  and  abuses  of  the 
Church. 

But,  above  all,  let  us  think  of  the  thousands  of 
obscure  individuals  unknown  to  the  world,  who,  how- 
ever, possessed  the  true  life  of  Christ. 

A  monk  named  Arnoldi,  daily  in  his  (juiet  cell  utters 
this  fervent  exclamation,  "0  Jesus  Christ,  my  Lord  I 
I  believe  that  thou  alone  art  my  redemption  and  my 
righteousness." 

Christopher  of  Utenheim,  a  pious  bishop  of  Basle, 
causes  his  name  to  be  written  on  a  picture  painted  on 
glass,  and  surrounds  it  with  this  inscription,  that  he 
may  have  it  .always  under  his  eye,  "The  cross  of 
Christ  is  my  hope ;  I  seek  grace,  and  not  works." 


22 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


Friar  Martin,  n  poor  Carthusian,  -wrote  a  touching 
confession,  in  which  he  says,  "  O  most  loving  God !  I 
know  there  is  no  other  way  in  wliich  I  can  be  saved 
and  satisfy  thy  justice,  than  by  the  merit,  the  spotless 
passion,  and  deat-h  of  thy  well-beloved  Son.  Kind 
Jesus  !  all  my  salvation  is  iu  thy  hands.  Thou  canst 
not  turn  the  arms  of  thy  love  away  from  me,  for  they 
created,  shaped,  and  ransomed  me.  In  great  mercy, 
and  in  an  ineffable  manner,  thou  hast  engi-ared  my 
name  with  an  iron  pen  on  thy  side,  thy  hands,  and  thy 
feet,"  &c.  Then  the  good  Carthusian  places  his  con- 
fession in  a  wooden  box,  and  deposits  the  box  iu  a 
hole  which  he  had  made  in  the  wall  of  his  cell. 

The  piety  of  Friar  Martin  would  never  have  been 
known  had  not  the  box  been  found  (21st  December, 
1776)  in  taking  down  an  old  tenement  which  had 
formed  part  of  the  Carthusian  Convent  at  Biisle. 

But  this  touching  faith  these  holy  men  had  only  for 
themselves,  and  knew  not  how  to  communicate  to 
others.  Living  in  retreat,  they  might  more  or  less  say, 
as  in  the  ivriting  which  Friar  Martin  put  into  his  box, 
"  Et  si  ha;c  prsedicta  confiteri  uon  possim  lingua,  cou- 
fiteor  tameu  corde  et  scripto." — "And  these  things 
aforesaid,  if  I  cannot  confess  with  the  tongue,  I,  how- 
ever, confess  with  the  heart  and  iu  \\Titing."  Tlic 
word  of  truth  was  in  the  sanctuary  of  some  pious  souls  ; 
but,  to  use  a  Scripture  expre.ssion,  it  had  not  '•  free 
course"  in  the  world.  Still,  if  the  doctrine  of  salvation 
was  not  always  confessed  aloud,  there  were  some  in  the 
very  bosom  of  the  Chm-ch  of  Rome  who,  at  least, 
feared  not  to  declare  openly  against  the  abuses  which 
dishonom-ed  it. 

Scarcely  had  the  Councils  of  Constance  and  Basle, 
which  condemned  IIuss  and  his  followers,  been  held, 
than  the  noble  series  of  witnesses  against  Rome,  to 
which  we  have  been  pointing,  again  appears  with 
greater  lustre.  Men  of  a  noble  spirit,  revolting  at  the 
abominations  of  the  Papacy,  rise  up  like  the  prophets 
under  the  Old  Testament,  like  them  sending  forth  a 
voice  of  thunder,  and  with  a  similar  fate.  Theii*  blood 
reddens  the  scaffold,  aud  their  ashes  arc  tlu-own  to 
the  wind. 

Thomas  Conecte,  ,i  Carmelite,  appears  in  Flanders, 
and  declares,  "  that  abominations  are  done  at  Rome ; 
that  the  Church  has  need  of  refoinnation  ;  aud  that,  in 
the  service  of  God.  one  must  not  fear  the  excommuni- 
cations of  the  pope."  Flauders  listens  with  enthusiasm, 
but  Rome  burns  him  in  1432,  aud  his  contemporaries 
exclaim  that  God  has  exalted  him  to  he.aven. 

Andre,  Ai-chbishop  of  Crayu,  and  a  Cardinal,  being 
at  Rome  as  the  ambassador  of  the  emperor,  is  amazed 
when  he  sees  that  the  holiness  of  the  pope,  in  which  he 
had  devoutly  believed,  is  only  a  fable  ;  and  in  his  sim- 
plicity he  addresses  evangelical  representations  to  Sextus 
IV.  He  is  answered  ^vith  mockeiy  and  persecution. 
Then  (1482)  he  wishes  a  new  Council  to  be  assembled 
at  Basle.  '"The  whole  Church,"  exclaims  he,  "is 
shaken  by  divisions,  heresies,  sins,  vices,  iniquities, 
errors,  and  innumerable  evils ;  so  much  so,  that  it  is  on 
the  eve  of  being  swallowed  up  by  the  devouring  abyss 
of  condemnation.  This  is  my  only  reason  for  propos- 
ing a  General  Council  for  the  Reformation  of  the 
Catholic  faith,  and  the  amendment  of  manners."  The 
Archbishop  of  Basle  was  thrown  into  the  prison  of  that 


town,  and  there  died.  Henry  Institoris,  the  inquisitor, 
who  first  moved  against  him,  used  these  remarkable 
words  :  "  The  whole  world  is  crying  out  and  demanding 
a  Coimcil ;  but  no  human  power  can  reform  the  Chiu-ch 
by  means  of  a  Council.  The  Almighty  will  fiud  an- 
other method,  which  is  now  unkuown  to  us,  though  it 
is  at  the  door ;  and  by  this  method  the  Church  will  be 
brought  back  to  its  primitive  condition."  This  remark- 
able prophecy,  pronounced  by  an  inquisitor  at  the  very 
period  of  Luther's  bu'th,  is  the  finest  apology  for  the 
Reformation. 

The  Dominican,  Jerome  Savonai'ola,  shortly  after 
he  had  entered  the  order  at  Bologna,  in  1475,  devotes 
himself  to  constant  prayer,  fasting,  and  macerations, 
and  exclaims,  "  O  thou  who  art  good,  in  thy  goodness 
teach  me  thy  righteousness."  Translated  to  Florence 
in  1489,  he  preaches  with  effect ;  his  voice  is  thrilling, 
his  featm-es  animated,  his  action  beautifully  attractive. 
'•  The  Chmxh,"  exclaims  he,  '•  must  be  renewed."  And 
he  professes  the  grand  principle  which  alone  can  restore 
life  to  it.  "God,"  says  he,  "forgives  man  his  sin,  and 
justifies  him  in  the  way  of  mercy.  For  every  justified 
person  existing  on  the  earth,  there  has  been  au  act  of 
compassion  in  heaven ;  for  no  man  is  saved  by  his 
works.  None  can  glory  in  themselves ;  and  if,  in  the 
presence  of  God,  the  question  were  put  to  all  the  righ- 
teous, '  Have  you  been  saved  by  your  own  strength  ? ' 
they  would  all  with  one  voice  exclaim,  '  Not  unto  us, 
O  Lord,  but  unto  thy  name  be  the  glory.'  'Wherefore, 
O  God,  I  seek  thy  mercy,  and  I  bring  thee  not  my  own 
righteousness  :  the  moment  thou  justifiest  me  by  gi-ace, 
thy  righteousness  belongs  to  me ;  for  gi-ace  is  the 
righteousness  of  God.  So  long,  O  man,  as  thou  be- 
lievest  not,  thou  art,  because  of  sin,  deprived  of  grace. 
O  God  !  save  me  by  thy  righteousness,  that  is,  by  thy 
Son,  who  alone  was  found  righteous  among  men." 
Thus  the  great  and  holy  doctrine  of  justification  by 
faith  gladdens  the  heart  of  .Savonarola.  In  vain  do 
the  prelates  of  the  Church  opi)ose  him  ;  he  knew  that 
the  oracles  of  God  arc  superior  to  the  visible  Church, 
aud  that  he  must  preach  them  with  her,  without  her, 
or  in  spite  of  her. — "Fly  far  from  Babylon,"  exclaims 
he.  It  is  Rome  he  thus  designates.  Rome  soon  answers 
him  in  her  own  way.  In  1497  the  infamous  Alexander 
launches  a  brief  at  him,  aud  iu  1498  torture  and  faggot 
do  their  work  on  the  Reformer. 

A  Franciscan,  named  John  Vitraire,  of  Tournay, 
whose  monastic  spirit  seems  not  of  a  very  elevated 
description,  nevertheless  declaims  forcibly  against  the 
corruption  of  the  Church.  "  It  were  better  for  a  man," 
says  he,  "  to  cut  his  child's  throat  than  put  it  iuto  a 
religion  not  reformed.  If  your  curate,  or  any  other 
priest,  keep  wonieu  in  his  house,  you  ought  to  go  and 
di'ag  the  womeu  by  force,  or  in  any  other  way,  pell- 
mell,  out  of  the  house.  There  are  some  persons  who 
say  prayers  to  the  Virgin  Mary,  in  order  that,  at  the 
hour  of"  death,  they  may  see  the  Virgin  IVIary.  Tiiou 
shalt  see  the  devil,  iind  not  the  Virgin  Mary."  The 
monk  was  ordered  to  retract,  and  he  did  so  iu  1498. 

Jolin  Laillier,  a  Doctor  of  Sorbonne,  declares,  in 
1484,  against  the  tyrannical  domination  of  the  hier- 
archy. "All  ecclesiastics,"  says  he,  "have  received 
ecpial  power  from  Ciirist.  The  Roman  Church  is  not 
the  head  of  other  churches.     You  ought  to  keep  the 


JOHN  OF  WESSALIA^OHN  WESSEL. 


commandroents  of  God  nnd  the  Apostles ;  and  in  re- 
gard to  tlic  coinmnnd  of  nil  the  bishops  nnd  other  lords 
of  the  Church,  care  no  more  for  it  thnu  you  would  for 
n  straw;  they  have  destroyed  the  Church  by  their 
tricks.  The  priests  of  the  Enslern  Church  sin  not  in 
marrying!  and,  believe  me,  neither  shall  wo  in  the 
Western  Church,  if  we  nuirry.  f>ince  St.  Sylvester 
the  Church  of  Rome  has  been,  not  a  church  of  Christ, 
but  n  church  of  Slato  and  money.  We  nro  no  more 
bound  to  believe  the  legends  of  the  saints  than  the 
Chronicles  of  France." 

John  of  'Wessalin,  n  doctor  of  theology  at  Erfurt,  a 
man  of  great  si)irit  and  intellect,  attacks  the  errors  on 
which  the  hienirehy  rests,  and  proclaims  the  holy 
Scriptures  to  be  the  only  source  of  faith.  '•  It  is  not 
religion  [that  is,  the  monastic  stale]  that  saves  us," 
says  he  to  some  monks,  "  but  the  grace  of  God.  God 
has  from  all  eternity  kept  n  book  in  which  He  hns  en- 
tered all  His  elect.  AVhosocver  is  not  entered  there, 
will  not  through  eternity;  nnd  whosoever  is,  will 
never  sec  his  name  erased.  It  is  solely  by  the  grace 
of  God  that  the  elect  are  siivcd.  He  whom  God  is 
pleased  to  save,  by  giving  him  grace,  will  be  saved, 
though  all  the  priests  in  the  world  were  to  condemn 
nnd  excommunicate  him.  And  he  whom  God  sees 
meet  to  condemn,  though  these  should  all  wish  to  save 
him,  will  be  made  to  feel  his  condemnation.  How 
audacious  in  the  successors  of  the  apostles  to  order, 
not  what  Christ  has  prescribed  in  His  holy  books,  but 
I  what  they  themselves  devised,  when  carried  away,  as 
I  they  now  are,  by  a  thirst  for  money,  or  a  rage  for 
power.  I  des])ise  the  pope,  the  Church,  and  the  Coun- 
cils, nnd  I  extol  Jesus  Christ."  Wessalia,  who  had 
gradually  arrived  at  those  convictions,  boldly  annoimces 
them  from  the  pulpit,  and  enters  into  commimication 
with  deputies  from  the  Hussites.  Feeble,  bent  with 
age,  nnd  wasted  by  disease,  the  courageous  old  man, 
with  tottering  step,  appears  before  the  Inquisition, 
nnd,  in  14^2,  dies  in  its  dungeons. 

About  the  same  time  John  de  Goch,  prior  atMalines, 
extolled  Christian  liberty  as  the  soul  of  all  the  virtues. 
He  charged  the  received  doctrine  with  Pelagianism,  and 
surnamed  Thomas  Aquinas  the  "Prince  of  Error." 
*'  Canonical  Scripture  alone,"  said  he,  "  deserves  full 
faith,  and  has  an  irrefragable  authority.  The  writings 
of  the  ancient  Fathers  are  of  authority  only  in  so  far 
aa  they  are  conformable  to  canonical  truth.  There  is 
truth  ill  the  common  byword,  '  What  a  monk  dares 
undertake,  .Satan  would  blush  to  think.' " 

But  the  most  remarkable  of  the  forerunners  of  the 
Reformation  was  undoubtedly  John  Wessel,  surnamed 
'•  The  Light  of  the  World."  a  man  full  of  courage  and 
love  for  the  truth,  who  taught  theology  successively  at 
Cologne,  Louvain,  Paris,  Heidelberg,  and  C^roningen. 
Luther  s.aid  of  him,  '•  Had  I  read  his  works  sooner,  it 
might  have  been  said,  Luther  has  drawn  everything 
from  Wessel ;  so  much  do  his  spirit  and  mine  accord." 
"  St.  Paul  and  St.  James,"  says  Wessel,  ''say  different, 
but  not  contrary  things.  Both  hold  that  the  just  live 
by  faith,  but  a  faith  which  works  by  love.  He  who. 
understijnding  the  Gospel,  believes,  desires,  hopes,  con- 
fides in  the  good  news,  and  loves  Him  who  justifies  and 
blesses  him,  gives  himself  entirely  to  Him  whom  he 
loves,  and  attributes  nothing  to  himself,  knowing  that 


in  himself  ho  has  nothing.  The  sheep  should  distin- 
guish between  the  tilings  on  which  they  feed,  and  avoid 
a  hurtful  food,  though  it  should  be  offered  by  the  shep- 
herd. The  people  ought  to  follow  their  shepherds  to 
the  pastures;  but  when  they  lend  them  to  what  is  not 
pasture,  they  are  no  more  shepherds  ;  and  because  they 
arc  not  in  their  duty,  the  Hock  is  no  longer  bound  to 
obey  them.  Nothing  is  more  effectual  in  destroying 
the  Church  than  a  corrupt  clerg)'.  All  Christians, 
even  the  meanest  and  simplest,  are  bound  to  resist  those 
who  destroy  the  Church.  The  commands  of  prelates 
and  doctors  ought  to  be  performed  only  in  the  manner 
prescribed  by  St.  Paul,  (1  Thess.  v.  21.)  namely,  in  so 
far  as,  sitting  in  the  chair  of  Moses,  they  speak  accord- 
ing to  Moses.  We  are  the  servants  of  God,  and  not  of 
the  pope,  according  as  it  is  said,  'Thou  shalt  worshiji 
the  Lord  thy  God,  and  Him  only  shalt  thou  sei-ve.' 
Tlie  Holy  Sjjirit  h.as  reserved  to  himself  to  foster, 
(piickcn,  preserve,  and  enlarge  the  unity  of  the  Church, 
and  not  abandoned  it  to  the  Roman  Pontiff,  who  often 
gives  himself  no  concern  about  the  matter.  Even  sex 
does  not  hinder  a  woman,  if  she  is  faithful  and  prudent, 
and  has  love  shed  abroad  in  her  heart,  from  feeling, 
judging,  approving,  and  concluding,  by  a  judgment 
which  God  ratifies." 

Thus,  as  the  Reformation  approaches,  the  voices 
which  proclaim  the  truth  are  multiplied.  One  would 
say  the  Church  is  bent  on  demonstrating  that  the 
Reformation  had  an  existence  before  Luther.  Pro- 
testiintism  was  born  into  the  Chiu-eh  the  very  day  that 
the  germ  of  the  Pap.aey  appeared  in  it,  just  as  in  the 
political  world  eonser\ative  principles  began  to  exist 
the  very  moment  that  the  despotism  of  the  great  or  the 
disorders  of  the  factious  shewed  open  front.  Protes- 
tantism was  even  sometimes  stronger  than  the  Papacy 
in  the  ages  preceding  the  Reformation.  What  had 
Rome  to  oppose  to  all  these  witnesses  for  the  truth  at 
the  moment  when  their  voice  was  he:ird  through  all 
the  earth? 

But  this  was  not  all.  The  Reformation  existed  not 
in  the  teachers  only ;  it  existed  also  among  the  people. 
The  doctrines  of  Wickliffe,  proceeding  from  Oxford, 
had  spread  over  Christendom,  and  had  preserved  ad- 
herents in  l{a\nria,  Swabia,  Franconia,  and  Prussia. 
In  Bohemia,  from  the  bosom  of  discord  and  war,  ulti- 
mately came  forth  a  ])caceful  Christian  community, 
which  resembled  the  primitive  Church,  and  bore  lively 
testimony  to  the  great  i)rinciple  of  Evangelical  oppo- 
sition, viz..  "That  Christ  himself,  not  Peter  and  his 
successor,  is  the  rock  on  which  the  Church  is  built." 
Belonging  e([ually  to  the  German  and  Slavonian  races, 
these  simple  Christians  had  missionaries  among  the 
different  nations  who  spoke  their  tongues,  that  they 
might  without  noise  gain  adherents  to  their  opinions. 
At  Rostoch,  which  had  been  twice  vi.-ited  by  them, 
Nicolas  Kuss  began,  in  1511,  to  preach  publicly  against 
the  jmpe. 

It  is  important  to  attend  to  this  state  of  things. 
When  wisdom  from  above  will  with  loud  voice  deliver 
her  instructions,  there  will  everywhere  be  intellects  and 
hearts  to  receive  it.  When  the  sower,  who  has  never 
ceased  to  walk  over  the  Church,  will  come  forth  for  a 
new  and  extensive  sowing,  the  earth  will  be  ready  to 
receive  the  grain.   When  the  trumpet,  which  the  Angel 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


of  the  covenant  has  never  ceased  to  blow,  will  cause  it 
to  sound  louder  and  louder,  many  will  make  ready 
for  battle. 

The  Church  already  feels  that  the  hour  of  battle  is 
approaching.  If,  during  the  last  centm-y,  more  than 
one  philosopher  gave  intimation  of  the  revolution  with 
which  it  was  to  close,  can  we  be  astonished  that,  at  the 
end  of  the  fifteenth  century,  several  doctors  foresaw 
the  impending  Reformation  which  was  to  renovate 
the  Church? 

Andre  Proles,  provincial  of  the  Augustins,  who,  for 
more  than  half  a  century,  presided  over  this  body,  and, 
with  unshaken  courage,  maintained  the  doctrines  of 
Augustine  within  his  order,  when  assembled  with  his 
friars  in  the  Convent  of  Himmelspforte,  near  Werni- 
gerode,  often  stopped  during  the  reading  of  the  word  of 
God,  and  addressing  the  listening  monks,  said  to  them, 
"  Brethren,  you  hear  the  testimony  of  holy  Scripture. 
It  declares,  that  by  grace  we  are  what  we  are — that  by 
it  alone  we  have  all  that  we  have.  "Whence,  then,  so 
much  darkness,  and  so  many  horrible  superstitions? 
.  .  .  Oh!  brethren,  Christianity  has  need  of  a  great 
and  bold  reformation,  and  I  already  see  its  approach." 
Then  the  monks  exclaimed,  "  Why  don't  you  yourself 
begin  this  reformation,  and  oppose  all  their  errors?" 
"  Yovi  see,  my  brethren,"  replied  the  old  provincial,  "that 
I  am  weighed  down  with  years,  and  feeble  in  body,  and 
possess  not  the  knowledge,  talent,  and  eloquence,  which 
60  important  a  matter  requires.  But  God  will  raise  up 
a  hero,  who,  by  his  age,  his  strength,  his  talents,  his 
knowledge,  liis  genius,  and  eloquence,  wiU  occupy  the 
first  rank.  He  will  begin  the  reformation,  he  will  op- 
pose error,  and  God  will  give  him  such  courage  that  ho 
will  dare  to  resist  the  great."  An  old  monk  of  Him- 
melspforte, who  had  often  heard  these  words,  related 
them  to  Flacius.  In  the  very  order  of  which  Proles 
was  provincial,  the  Christian  hero  thus  announced  by 
him  was  to  appear. 

In  the  Franciscan  Convent  at  Isenach,  in  Thuringia, 
was  a  monk  named  John  Hilten.  He  was  a  careful 
student  of  the  Prophet  Daniel,  and  the  Apocalypse  of 
St.  John ;  he  even  -vvi-ote  a  Commentary  on  these  Books, 
and  censured  the  most  crying  abuses  of  monastic  life. 
The  enraged  monks  threw  him  into  pi-ison.  His 
advanced  age,  and  the  filthiness  of  his  dungeon,  bring- 
ing on  a  dangerous  illness,  he  asked  for  the  friar 
superintendent,  who  had  no  sooner  arrived,  than, 
without  listening  to  the  prisoner,  he  began  to  give 
vent  to  his  rage,  and  to  rebuke  him  harshly  for  his  doc- 
trine, which  (adds  the  chronicle)  was  at  variance  with 
the  monk's  kitchen.  The  Franciscan,  forgetting  his 
illness,  and  fetching  a  deep  sigh,  exclaims,  "  I  calmly 
submit  to  your  injustice  for  the  love  of  Christ;  for 
I  have  done  nothing  to  shake  the  monastic  state,  and 
have  only  censured  its  most  notorious  abuses.  But," 
continued  he,  (this  is  the  account  given  by  Melancthon 
in  his  Apology  for  the  Cun/cssion  oj  Augsburg,)  "another 
will  come  in  the  year  of  the  Lord,  one  thousand  Jive  hun- 
dred and  sixteen;  he  will  destroy  you,  and  yon  will  not  be 
able  to  resist  him."  John  Hilten,  who  had  announced 
the  end  of  the  world  in  the  year  1651,  was  not  so  much 
mistaken  in  the  year  in  whicli  the  future  Reformer  was 
to  appear.  He  was  born  not  long  after  at  a  sliort  dis- 
tance from  Hilten's  dungeon,  commenced  his  studies  in 


the  same  town  where  the  monk  was  prisoner,  and 
publicly  engaged  in  the  Reformation  only  a  year  later 
than  the  Franciscan  had  mentioned. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Letters — Revival — Remeiubranee  of  Antiquity  iu  Italy — Influence  of  the 
Humanists— Christianity  of  Dante— Valla— In Qdelity  in  Italy— Platonic 
Philosophy — Rise  of  Literature  in  Germany — Youth  in  Schools— Print- 
ing—Character  of  German  Literature— Literati  and  Schoolmen— A  New 
World— Reuchlin—Reuchlin  in  Italy— His  Works— His  Influence  in 
Germany— Mystics— Straggle  with  the  Dominicans. 

Thus  princes  and  people,  the  living  members  of  the 
Church,  and  the  theologians,  laboured,  each  in  their 
sphere,  to  prepare  the  work  which  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury was  about  to  caiTy  into  effect.  But  there  was 
another  auxiliary  which  was  to  lend  its  aid  to  the 
Reformation — I  mean  Literature. 

The  human  mind  was  expanding — a  circumstance 
which  must  of  itself  have  led  to  its  emancipation.  If 
a  small  seed  fall  close  to  an  old  wall,  as  it  grows  into 
a  tree  it  will  push  down  the  wall. 

The  Pontiff  of  Rome  had  become  tutor  to  the  nations, 
and  his  superior  intelligence  had  made  the  task  easy  to 
him.  He  had  long  kept  them  in  a  state  of  minority, 
but  resistance  now  broke  forth  on  all  sides.  This 
venerable  tutelage,  which  had  been  primarily  estab- 
lished by  the  principles  of  eternal  life,  and  of  civiliza- 
tion which  Rome  had  imparted  to  barbarous  nations, 
could  no  longer  be  exercised  without  opposition.  A 
formidable  adversary  had  met  her  in  the  face,  and  was 
prepared  to  control  her.  The  natural  tendency  of  the 
human  mind  to  expand,  to  investigate,  and  acquire 
knowledge,  had  given  birth  to  this  new  power.  Man 
opened  his  eyes,  and  at  every  step  questioned  the  pro- 
ceedings of  that  long  respected  guide  under  whose 
direction,  while  blindfolded,  he  had  moved  on  without 
saying  a  word.  In  regard  to  the  nations  of  new  Europe, 
the  age  of  infancy  had  passed  away,  and  that  of  man- 
hood had  begun.  To  the  childlike  simplicity,  wliich 
believed  everything,  had  succeeded  a  spirit  of  curiosity, 
an  intellect  not  to  be  satisfied  without  sifting  every- 
thing to  the  utmost.  It  was  asked  for  what  end  God 
had  spoken  to  the  world,  and  whether  men  had  a  right 
to  station  themselves  as  mediators  between  God  and 
their  brethren. 

There  was  only  one  thing  which  could  have  saved 
the  Church,  and  this  was  to  raise  herself  still  higher 
above  the  people.  To  keep  on  a  level  with  them  was 
not  enough.  But  so  far  from  this,  she  was  even  found 
to  be  far  beneath  them,  having  begun  to  descend  at 
the  same  time  that  they  began  to  rise.  At  the  period 
when  mankind  began  to  ascend  to  the  regions  of 
intellect,  the  priesthood  was  grovelling  below  among 
earthly  pursuits  and  worldly  interests.  This  pheno- 
menon has  repeatedly  appeared  in  liistory.  The  wings 
of  the  eaglet  were  full  fledged,  and  what  hand  was 
higli  enough  to  prevent  it  from  taking  its  flight  ? 

The  human  mind  made  its  first  start  iu  Italy. 

Scholasticism  and  romantic  poetry  had  at  no  time 


REVIVAL  OF  LETTERS. 


25 


rcijnipd  unopposed.  Italy  never  entirely  lost  the  re- 
nK'inl)rnrice  of  luitiiiuity;  and  tliis  renicnihrance  having; 
been  stron^'ly  !i\vi(koiied  towards  tlio  end  of  the  middle 
ages,  soon  ^avc  lliu  mind  a  new  impulse. 

Even  in  the  fourteenth  century,  Dante  aiul  IVtrarch 
restored  the  honour  of  the  ancient  lioinan  poets,  at  the 
same  time  tluit  the  former  j,'avc  the  most  powerful 
l>opcs  a  place  in  his  hell,  and  the  latter  boldly  protested 
for  the  primitive  constitution  of  the  Church.  At  the 
bcj^nninp;  of  the  lifteentli  century,  John  of  Ravenna 
taught  Latin  literature  with  applause  at  Padua  and 
Florence;  while  Clnysoloras,  at  Florence  and  Pavia, 
interpreted  the  beautiful  writers  of  Greece. 

AVhile  in  Europe  light  was  thus  coming  forth  from 
the  prisons  iu  which  it  had  been  confined,  the  East 
was  sending  new  beams  to  the  West.  The  standard  of 
the  Osmanlis,  planted  in  ll.j;j  on  the  walls  of  Con- 
stantinople, had  put  the  learned  to  tliglit.  They  had, 
in  consequence,  transported  the  literature  of  Greece 
into  Italy,  where  the  torch  of  the  ancients  rekindled 
minds  which  had  lain  smothered  for  so  many  ages. 
George  of  Trebisond,  ArgjTopolos,  Bessarion.  Lascaris, 
Chalcondylas,  and  many  others,  inspired  the  West  with 
their  love  of  Greece  and  its  noblest  jiroductions.  The 
patriotic  feelings  of  the  Italians  were  tiius  stimulated, 
and  a  great  number  of  learned  men  ap()cared  in  Italy. 
Of  these,  the  most  illustrious  were  Gasparino,  Aretin, 
Poggio,  and  Valla,  who  strove  to  restore  the  honour  of 
Roman  antiquity,  and  j)lace  it  on  a  footing  with  that 
of  Greece.  In  this  way  a  great  Hood  of  light  had 
appeared,  and  Rome  could  not  but  suffer  by  it. 

The  passion  for  auti(iuity  which  took  possession  of 
the  IIiiiiKinisls,  had  a  great  effect  iu  weakening  the 
attachment  to  the  Church  in  minds  of  the  highest 
order ;  for  "  no  man  can  serve  two  masters."  At  the 
same  time,  the  studies  iu  which  the  learned  were 
engaged  put  them  in  possession  of  a  new  class  of  in- 
struments, which  were  unknown  to  the  schoolmen,  and 
by  means  of  which  they  could  test  and  decide  upon  the 
lessons  of  the  Church.  Finding  that  beauties  which 
charmed  them  in  classical  authors,  existed  in  i)rofusion 
in  the  Bible,  and  not  in  the  works  of  theologians,  the 
Humanists  were  quite  prepared  to  give  the  Bible  pre- 
cedence before  the  Doctors.  By  reformuig  taste,  they 
prepared  a  reformation  in  faith. 

The  Literati,  it  is  true,  loudly  protested  that  their 
pursuits  were  not  at  variance  with  the  belief  of  the 
Church;  but  yet  they  had  assailed  the  schoolmen  long 
before  the  Rsformers  began  to  do  it,  and  )ilayed  off 
their  wit  on  these  barbarians — those  "Teutons  who 
living,  lived  not."  Some  even  proclaimed  doctrines  of 
the  Gospel,  and  assailed  Rome  in  the  objects  of  her 
dearest  affection.  Already  Dante,  while  adhering  to 
many  Roman  dogmas,  had  proclaimed  the  jjower  of 
faith  in  terms  similar  to  those  which  the  first  Re- 
formers employed.  '•  It  is  true  faith,"  he  said,  "  that 
makes  us  citizens  of  heaven.  Faith,  according  to  the 
Gospel  doctrine,  is  the  principle  of  life;  it  is  the  feeble 
spark  which,  spreading  always  wider  and  wider,  at 
length  becomes  a  lining  flame,  and  shines  within  us  like 
a  star  in  heaven.  Without  faith,  no  good  works,  no 
honesty  of  life,  can  give  us  aid.  How  great  soever  our 
sins  may  be,  the  arms  of  divine  grace  are  greater  still, 
and  wide  enough  to  embrace  whatever  turns  towards 


God.  The  soid  is  not  lost  by  the  anathema  of  the 
l)ontiffs;  and  eternal  love  can  always  reach  it,  so  long 
as  there  remains  one  bloom  of  hope.  From  God,  from 
God  alone,  through  faith,  our  justice  comes."  And 
speaking  of  the  Church,  Dante  ex'-laims,  ''O  my  bark! 
how  ill  loaded  thou  art!  O  Constantine!  what  mighty 
e\il  was  engendered,  I  will  not  say  by  thy  conversion, 
but  by  that  offering  which  the  rich  father  then  received 
from  thee!" 

At  a  later  period,  Laurcntius  Valla,  applying  the 
study  of  antiquity  to  the  opinions  of  the  Church,  denies 
the  authenticity  of  the  correspondence  between  Christ 
and  King  Abgarus,  rejects  the  tradition  as  to  the  origin 
of  the  Apostles'  Creed,  and  saps  the  foimdation  of  the 
pretended  inheritance  which  the  popes  held  of  Con- 
stantine. 

Still,  however,  the  great  light  which  the  study  of 
antiquity  threw  out  in  the  fifteenth  century,  was  fitted 
only  to  destroy,  and  not  to  build  up.  The  honour  of 
saving  the  Church  could  not  be  given  either  to  Homer 
or  Virgil.  The  revival  of  letters,  sciences,  and  arts,  did 
not  found  the  Reformation.  The  Paganism  of  the 
poets,  on  reajjpearing  in  Italy,  rather  strengthened  the 
Paganism  of  the  heart.  Tlie  scepticism  of  the  school 
of  Aristotle,  and  a  contempt  of  everything  not  con- 
nected with  philology,  took  possession  of  many  of  the 
Literati,  and  engendered  an  infidelity  which,  while  it 
affected  submission  to  the  Church,  in  reality  attacked 
the  most  important  truths  of  religion.  Peter  Pom- 
ponatius,  the  most  famous  representative  of  this  im- 
pious tendency,  taught  at  Bologna  and  Padua,  that  the 
immortality  of  the  sold  and  Providence  are  only 
philosophical  ])roblcms.  John  Francis  Pica,  nephew  of 
Pica  de  la  Mirandola,  tells  of  a  pope  who  did  not  be- 
lieve in  a  God ;  and  of  another  who,  having  confessed 
to  one  of  his  friends,  that  he  did  not  believe  in  the 
inunortality  of  the  soul,  appeared  one  night  after  his 
death  to  the  same  friend,  and  said  to  him,  "Ah!  the 
eternal  fire  that  consumes  me,  makes  me  but  too  sen- 
sible of  the  inunortality  of  that  soul  which,  according 
to  the  view  I  held,  was  to  die  with  the  body."  This 
reminds  us  of  the  celebrated  words  which  Leo  X.  is 
alleged  to  have  said  to  his  Secretary  Bembo,  "  All  ages 
know  well  enough  of  what  advantage  this  fable  about 

Cliii^l  li:is  liriii  to  ns  and  ours." 

l'ii\Ml.iii-  Mi]»  rstitions  were  attacked,  but  their  place 
wa-^  -u|.]ili.'.l  hy  infidelitj',  with  its  disdainful  sneering 
huiiili.  To  laugh  at  things,  however  sacred,  was 
fjishionable,  and  a  proof  of  wit ;  and  if  any  v.alue  was 
set  on  religion,  it  was  merely  as  a  mean  of  governing 
the  people.  "  I  have  a  fear,"  exclaimed  Erasmus,  iu 
lolfi,  "and  it  is,  that,  with  the  study  of  ancient  liter- 
ature, ancient  Paganism  will  re-appear." 

It  is  true  that  then,  as  after  the  sarcasms  of  the  age 
of  Augustus,  and  as  in  our  own  times,  after  those  of 
the  last  century,  a  new  Platonic  philosophy  sprung 
up  and  attacked  that  irrational  incredulity,  seeking, 
like  the  philosophy  of  the  present  day,  to  inspire  some 
respect  for  Christianity,  and  restore  the  religious  sen- 
timent to  the  heart.  The  Medici  at  Florence  favoured 
these  efforts  of  the  Platonics.  But  no  philosophical 
religion  will  regenerate  the  Church  and  the  world. 
Proud,  disdaining  the  preaching  of  the  Cross,  and 
pretending  to  see  nothing  in  Christian  doctrines   but 


26 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


figures  and  symbols,  which  the  majority  of  meu  cannot 
comprehend,  it  may  bewilder  itself  in  a  mystical  en- 
thusiasm, but  will  always  prove  powerless  either  to 
reform  or  to  save. 

"What,  then,  must  have  happened  had  not  true 
Christianity  re-appeared  in  the  world,  and  had  not 
faith  filled  the  hearts  of  men  anew  with  its  power  and 
its  holiness?  The  Eeformation  saved  religion,  and 
with  it  society;  and,  therefore,  if  the  Church  of  Rome 
had  had  the  glory  of  God  and  the  good  of  the  people  at 
heart,  it  would  have  welcomed  the  Eeformation  with 
delight.  But  what  were  such  things  as  these  to 
LeoX.? 

However,  a  torch  could  not  be  lighted  in  Italy  with- 
out sending  its  beams  beyond  the  Alps.  The  affairs  of 
the  Church  established  a  constant  intercourse  between 
the  Italian  Peninsula  and  the  other  parts  of  Chris- 
tendom ;  and  the  harharinns  being  thus  soon  made  to 
feel  the  superiority  and  i)ride  of  the  Italians,  began  to 
blush  for  the  imperfection  of  their  language  and  their 
style.  Some  yoinig  noblemen, — a  Dalberg,  a  Langen, 
a  Spiegelberg, — inflamed  with  an  eager  desire  of  know- 
ledge, passed  over  into  Italy;  and  on  their  return  to 
Germany,  brought  back  learning,  grammar,  and  the 
Classics,  now  so  eagerlysought  after,  and  communicated 
them  to  their  friends.'  Shortly  after,  Rodolph  Agricola, 
a  man  of  distinguished  genius,  appeared,  and  was  held 
in  as  high  veneration  for  his  learning  and  genius 
as  if  he  had  lived  in  the  age  of  Augustus  or  Pericles. 
The  ardour  of  his  mind,  and  the  fatigues  of  the  school, 
wore  him  out  in  a  few  years ;  but  not  till  noble  dis- 
ciples had  been  trained,  through  intimate  intercourse 
with  him,  to  carry  their  master's  fire  all  over  Germany. 
Often,  when  assembled  around  him,  they  had  together 
deplored  the  darkuess  of  the  Church,  and  asked  why 
Paul  so  often  repeats  that  meu  are  justified  by  faith 
and  not  by  works. 

Around  the  feet  of  these  new  teachers  soon  gathered 
rustic  youths,  who  lived  by  alms  and  studied  without 
books,  and  who,  divided  iuto  sections  of  priests  of 
Bacchus,  arquebusiers,  and  many  more  besides,  moved 
in  disorderly  bands  from  town  to  town,  and  school  to 
school.  No  matter,  these  strange  bauds  were  the 
commencement  of  a  literary  public.  The  masterpieces 
of  antiquity  began  gradually  to  issue  from  the  presses 
of  Germany,  supplanting  the  schoolmen;  and  the  art 
of  printing,  discovered  at  Mayence  in  1440,  multiplied 
the  energetic  voices  which  remonstrated  against  the 
corruption  of  the  Church,  and  those  voices,  not  less 
energetic,  which  invited  the  human  mind  into  new 
paths. 

The  study  of  ancicut  literature  had,  in  Germany, 
very  different  effects  from  those  which  it  had  in  Italy 
and  France.  Her  study  was  combined  with  faith.  In 
the  new  literary  culture,  Germany  turned  her  attention 
to  the  advantage  which  religion  might  derive  from  it. 
What  had  jiroduced  in  some  a  kind  of  intellectual 
refinement,  i>f  a  cajilious  and  sterile  nature,  penetrated 
the  whole  life  of  others,  warmed  their  hearts,  and  pre- 
pared them  for  a  better  light.  The  first  restorers  of 
letters  in  France  were  characterized  by  levity,  and 
often  even  by  immorality  of  conduct.  In  Germany, 
their   successors,   animated   by   a    spirit    of    gravity, 

1  This  first  impulse  has  been  orvoncously  attributed  to  Thomas  i.  Keuiiiis. 


zealously  devoted  themselves  to  the  investigation  of 
truth.  Italy,  offering  her  incense  to  profane  literature 
and  science,  saw  an  infidel  opposition  arise.  Germany, 
occupied  with  a  profound  theology,  and  turned  in- 
wardly upon  herself,  saw  the  rise  of  an  opposition 
based  on  faith.  The  one  sapped  the  foundations  of  the 
Church,  and  the  other  repaired  them.  Within  the 
empire  was  f onued  a  remarkable  union  of  free,  learned, 
and  noble-minded  men,  among  whom  princes  were 
conspicuous,  who  endeavoured  to  render  science  useful 
to  religion.  Some  brought  to  their  studies  the  humble 
faith  of  children,  while  others  brought  an  enlightened 
and  penetrating  intellect,  disposed,  perhaps,  to  exceed 
the  bounds  of  legitimate  freedom  and  criticism;  both, 
however,  contributed  to  clear  the  pavement  of  the 
temple  from  the  obstructions  produced  by  so  many 
suj)erstitions. 

The  monkish  theologians  perceived  their  danger, 
and  began  to  clamour  against  the  very  studies  which 
they  had  tolerated  in  Italy  and  France,  because  in 
those  countries  thej'  had  gone  hand-in-hand  with  levity 
and  dissoluteness.  They  entered  into  a  conspiracy  to 
oppose  the  study  of  language  and  science,  because  they 
had  caught  a  glimpse  of  faith  following  in  their  rear. 
A  monk  was  putting  some  one  on  his  guard  against  the 
heresies  of  Erasmus.  "In  what,"  it  was  asked,  "do 
they  consist?"  He  confessed  that  he  had  not  read  the 
work  of  which  he  was  speaking,  but  one  thing  he  knew, 
viz.,  that  Erasmus  had  written  in  too  good  Latin. 

The  disciples  of  literature,  and  the  scholastic  theo- 
logians, soon  came  to  an  open  rupture.  The  latter 
were  in  dismay  when  they  saw  the  movement  which 
was  taking  place  in  the  domain  of  intellect,  and 
thought  that  immobility  and  darkness  were  the  best 
safeguards  of  the  Church.  Their  object  in  contending 
against  the  revival  of  letters,  was  to  save  Rome ;  but 
they  helped  to  ruin  it.  Here  Rome  had  much  at  stake. 
Forgetting  herself  for  an  instant  under  the  jjontificate 
of  Leo  X.,  she  abandoned  her  old  friends,  aud  clasped 
her  young  adversaries  in  her  ai-ms.  The  papacy  and 
letters  formed  an  intimacy  which  seemed  destined  to 
break  up  the  ancient  alliance  between  monasticism  and 
the  hierarchy.  At  the  first  glance  the  popes  perceived 
not  that  what  they  had  taken  for  a  whip,  was  a  sword 
capable  of  inflicting  a  mortal  wound.  In  the  same 
way,  during  the  last  century,  princes  were  seen  re- 
ceiving at  their  court  political  and  philosophic  systems, 
which,  if  carried  into  full  effect,  would  have  over- 
turned their  thrones.  The  alliance  was  not  of  long 
duration.  Literature  advanced  without  troubling  itself 
about  the  injury  which  it  might  do  to  the  power  of  its 
patron.  The  monks  and  schoolmen  were  aware  that 
to  abandon  the  pope  was  just  to  abandon  themselves; 
and  the  pope,  notwithstanding  of  the  passing  patronage 
which  he  gave  to  the  fine  arts,  was  not  the  less  active 
when  he  saw  the  danger,  in  adopting  measures,  how 
nmcli  opposed  soever  they  might  be  to  the  spirit  of 
the  time. 

The  universities  defended  themselves  as  they  best 
could  against  the  invasion  of  new  light.  Cologne  ex- 
pelled Rhagius;  Leipsic,  Celtes ;  Rostoch,  Herman 
von  dem  Busch.  Still  the  new  doctors,  and  with  them 
the  ancient  Cla-ssics,  gradually,  and  often  even  by  the 
aid  of  princes,  made  good  their  footing  in  these  public 


REUCHLIN-IIIS  VISIT  TO  ITALY. 


schools.  Societies  of  gniiiiinarians  and  pods  wore  soon 
established  in  spite  of  the  schoolmoii,  and  every  tliiiij:, 
even  to  tho  name  of  the  Literati,  behoved  to  be  eon- 
vorted  into  Latin  and  Greek  ;  for  how  could  the  friends 
of  Sophocles  and  Virp;il  have  such  names  as  Kraehen- 
bergcr  or  Sehwarzerd  ?  At  the  same  time,  u  spirit  of 
independence  breathed  in  all  the  universities.  Students 
were  no  longer  seen,  in  schoolboy  fashion,  with  their 
books  under  their  arms,  walking  sagely  and  demurely, 
with  downcast  eye,  behind  their  masters.  The  pelii- 
lancc  of  ft  Martial  and  an  Ovid  had  passed  into  the 
new  disci|)les  of  the  Muses.  It  was  transport  to  them 
to  hear  the  sarcasms  which  fell  in  torrents  on  the 
dialectical  theologians ;  and  the  heads  of  the  literary 
movement  were  sometimes  accused  of  favouring,  and 
even  of  exciting,  the  disorderly  jjrocecdings  of  the 
students. 

Thus  n  new  world,  emerging  out  of  iinili|Miiy.  was 
formed  in  the  very  heart  of  the  wuild  i>{  thi-  middle 
ages.  The  two  parties  could  not  avoid  coming  fo 
blows,  and  the  struggle  was  at  hand.  It  began  with 
the  greatest  champion  of  literature,  with  an  old  man 
on  the  eve  of  linishing  his  peaceful  career. 

To  secure  the  triumph  of  truth,  the  iirst  thing 
necessary  was  to  bring  forth  the  weapons  by  which 
she  was  to  conipier.  from  the  arsenals  where  they  bad 
lain  buried  for  ages.  Those  weapons  were  the  holy 
Scriptures  of  the  Old  and  New  Testaments.  It  was 
necessary  to  revive  in  Christen<lom  Ji  love  and  study  of 
sacred  Hteratin-e,  bf.tb  Greek  and  Hebrew.  .Injin 
Reuchlin  was  the  individual  wlmm  Divine  rni\iden(e 
selected  for  this  pur[)ose. 

A  very  fine  boy's  voice  was  remarked  in  the  choir 
of  the  church  of  Pforzheim,  and  attracted  the  atten- 
tion of  the  Margi-ave  of  Baden.  It  was  that  of  John 
Keuchlin,  ii  young  boy  of  agreeable  manners  and  a 
lively  disposition,  son  of  an  honest  burgher  of  the 
place.  The  Margrave  soon  took  him  entirely  xmder 
his  j)rotcction.  and  in  147.3  made  choice  of  him  to 
accompany  his  son  Frederick  to  the  L^niversity  of 
I'aris. 

The  son  of  the  bailiff  of  Pforzheim  arrived  with  the 
prince,  bis  heart  exuberant  with  joy  at  being  admitted 
to  this  school,  the  most  celebrated  of  all  the  "West. 
Here  he  foimd  the  Spartan  Ilermonymos  and  John 
WcsscI,  surnamcd  "The  Light  of  tho  VVorld;"  and  had 
an  ojiportunity  of  engaging,  under  skilful  masters,  in 
the  study  of  Greek  and  Hebrew. — which  had  not  then 
a  single  i>rofessor  in  Germany,  and  of  which  he  was 
one  day  to  he  the  restorer  in  "the  country  of  the  Kefor- 
mation.  The  poor  young  German  made  copies  of  the 
poems  of  Homer,  and  the  speeches  of  Isocrates,  for 
wealthy  students,  and  in  this  way  gained  the  means  of 
continuing  his  studies  and  buying  books. 

But  what  he  hears  from  the  mouth  of  "Wessel  is  of 
n  different  nature,  and  makes  a  deep  impression  on  his 
mind.  "The  popes  m.iy  be  mistaken.  All  human 
satisfactions  are  blasphemy  against  Christ,  who  has 
perfectly  reconciled  and  justified  the  lunuan  race.  To 
God  alone  belongs  the  power  of  giving  full  absolution. 
There  is  no  necessity  for  confessing  our  sins  to  a  priest. 
There  is  no  purgatory,  at  least  if  it  be  not  God  him- 
self who  is  a  ilevouring  fire,  and  purges  away  every 
defilement."     Reuchlin,  when  scarcely  twenty,  teaches 


Philosophy,  Greek,  and  Latin,  at  iJaslc ;  and  a  Ger- 
man (a  tiling  then  regarded  as  a  wonder)  is  heard 
speaking  Greek. 

The  partizans  of  Rome  begin  to  feel  uneasy  on  seeing 
noble  spirits  at  work  among  these  ancient  treasures. 
"The  Romans,"  .says  Reuchlin,  "are  making  mouths 
and  raising  an  outcry,  ))rctending  that  all  these  literary 
labours  arc  hostile  to  Roman  piety,  inasmuch  as  the 
Greeks  are  .schismatics.  Oh  !  what  toils  and  sufferings 
must  be  endured  to  bring  Germany  back  to  wiMlom 
and  knowledge  I" 

Shortly  afterward,  Eberhard  of  Wurtemberg,  in- 
vited Reuchlin  to  Tubingen,  that  he  might  be  the 
ornament  of  this  rising  university,  and  in  1-183  took 
him  with  hhn  into  Italy.  At  Florence  his  comjianions 
and  friends  were  C'hal<'ondyla.s,  Aurispa,  and  John 
Pica  do  Mirandola.  At  Rome,  when  Eberhard  re- 
ceived a  siilenin  audience  of  the  pope,  surrounded  by 
his  cardinals,  Reuchlin  delivered  an  address  in  such 
pure  and  elegant  Latin,  that  the  assembly,  who  ex- 
pected nothing  of  the  kind  from  a  barbarous  German, 
were  filled  with  the  greatest  astonishment,  while  the 
]>opc  exclaimed,  "Assuredly  this  man  deserves  to  take 
his  place  beside  the  best  orators  of  France  and  Italy." 

Ten  years  later  Reuchlin  was  obliged  to  take  refuge 
in  Heidelberg,  at  the  court  of  the  Elector  Philip,  to 
escape  the  vengeance  of  Ebcrliard's  successor.  Philip, 
in  concert  with  John  of  Dalberg,  IJisho])  of  Worms, 
his  friend  and  chancellor,  exerted  Iiimself  to  spread 
the  light  which  was  beginning  to  ])cip  t'.ri-ili  from  all 
parts  of  Gcrmanv.  Dalberg  bad  r..nn.lr,|  :,  library,  to 
which  all  the  learne.l  ba.l  free  ac.-os. ;  and  Kiuchlin.  in 
this  new  sphere,  made  great  efforts  to  remove  the 
barbarism  of  his  countrymen. 

Having  been  sent  to  Rome  by  the  elector  in  14'.KS, 
on  an  important  mission,  ho  availed  himself  of  all  the 
time  and  all  the  money  he  could  spare  to  nnikc  new 
)>rogrcss  in  Hebrew,  under  the  learned  Israelite,  Abdias 
Sphorno,  and  ])urciiased  all  the  Greek  and  Hebrew 
manuscripts  which  he  could  lind,  with  the  view  of 
eni|)loying  tlicm  as  so  many  torches  to  increase  the 
light  which  was  beginning  to  dawn  in  his  nativecountry. 

Argyropolos.  a  di^liiiguisluMl  (ireek,  was  at  this  time 
in  the  melropolis  c\|ilaining  the  ancient  marvels  of  the 
literature  of  his  country  to  a  numerous  audience.  The 
learned  aniba-sailor  rcjiairs  with  his  suite  to  tho  hall 
where  the  teacher  was  lecturing,  and.  after  bowing 
to  him,  deplores  the  misery  of  Greece,  expiring  under 
the  blows  of  the  Otiomaus.  The  .Tstouished  Hellenist 
asks  the,  (iermaii.  "  AVboare  j-ou?  Do  you  understand 
Greek.'"  Reuchlin  replies,  "I  am  a  German,  and 
know  something  of  your  tongue."  At  the  request  of 
Argyro]iolos  be  re.ids  and  explains  a  passage  of  Thucy- 
dides,  which  the  professor  had  at  the  moment  before 
him.  Then  Argyropolos,  filled  with  astonishment  and 
grief,  exclaims,  "Al.as!  alas  I  Greece,  oppressetl  and 
obliged  to  flee,  has  gone  and  hid  herself  beyond  the 
Alps  1" 

Thus  the  sons  of  rude  Germany,  and  those  of  ancient 
learned  Greece,  met  in  the  palaces  of  Rome,  and  the 
East  and  AVest  shook  hands  in  this  rendezvous  of  the 
world — the  one  pouring  into  the  lap  of  the  other  those 
intellectual  treasures  which  had  with  difHcnlfy  been 
saved  from  the  barb.irism   of   the  (Ottomans.     God, 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


when  His  designs  require  it,  employs  some  great  catas- 
troplie  to  break  down  the  barrier,  and  instantly  bring 
together  those  who  seemed  to  be  for  ever  parted. 

Eeuchlin,  on  his  return  to  Germany,  was  able  to  go 
back  to  AVurtemberg,  and  proceeded,  at  this  time  espe- 
cially, to  execute  those  works  which  proved  so  use- 
ful to  Luther  and  the  Reformation.  This  individual, 
who,  as  Count  Palatine,  held  an  eminent  station  in  the 
empire,  and  who,  as  a  philosopher,  contributed  to 
humble  Aristotle  and  exalt  Plato — made  a  Latin  Dic- 
tionary, which  supplanted  those  of  the  Schoolmen — 
composed  a  Greek  Grammar,  which  gi-eatly  facilitated 


the  study  of  that  language — translated  and  expounded 
the  penitential  Psalms — corrected  the  Vulgate,  and 
was  the  first  in  Germany  (this  constitutes  his  highest 
merit  and  glory)  who  published  a  Hebrew  Grammar 
and  Dictionary.  By  this  work  Keuchlin  opened  the 
long  sealed  books  of  the  Old  Testament,  and  reared 
"a  monument,"  as  he  himself  expresses  it,  "more 
durable  than  brass." 

It  was  not  merely  by  his  writings,  but  also  by  his 
life,  that  Eeuchlin  sought  to  advance  the  reign  of 
trutii.  Tall  in  stature,  of  commanding  appearance, 
and  affable  address,  he  instantly  gained  the  confidence 
of  all  with  whom  he  liad  any  intercourse.  His  thirst 
for  knowledge  was  equalled  only  by  his  zeal  in  com- 
nuinicating  it.  He  spared  neither  money  nor  labour 
to  introduce  the  editions  of  the  Classics  into  Germany 
as  they  issued  from  the  presses  of  Italy;  and  in  this 
way  the  son  of  a  bailiff  did  more  to  enlighten  his  coun- 
trymen than  rich  municipalities  or  powerful  princes. 
His  influence  over  youth  was  great;  and,  in  this  re- 
spect, who  can  calculate  how  much  the  Keformatiou 


owes  to  him  ?  We  wiU  give  only  one  example.  His 
cousin,  a  yoimg  man  named  Schwarzerd,  son  of  an  arti- 
zan,  who  had  acquired  celebrity  as  an  armourer,  came  to 
lodge  with  his  sister,  Elizabeth,  in  order  to  study  under 
his  direction.  Reuchlin,  delighted  at  the  genius  and 
application  of  his  yoimg  pupil,  adopted  him.  Advice, 
presents  of  books,  examples,  nothing,  in  short,  he  spared 
to  make  his  relative  useful  to  the  Church  and  to  his 
country.  He  rejoiced  to  see  his  work  prospering  under 
his  eye ;  and,  thinking  the  name  Schwarzerd  too  bar- 
barous, translated  it  into  Greek,  and  named  the  young 
student  Melancthon.  It  was  Luther's  illustrious  friend. 
But  grammatical  studies  did 
not  satisfy  Reuchlin.  Like  his 
masters,  the  Jewish  doctors, 
he  began  to  study  the  hidden 
meaning  of  the  Word :  "  God," 
said  he,  "  is  a  Spirit,  the  Word 
i-  a  breath, — man  breathes, 
( ;  od  is  the  Word.  The  names 
which  He  has  given  himself 
,  I  re  an  echo  of  eternity."  Like 
cCabalists,  hehoped  to  "pass 
Irom  symbol  to  symbol,  from 
t'nrm  to  form,  till  he  arrived 
;it  the  last  and  purest  of  all 
tnrms  —  that  which  regulates 
le  power  of  the  Spirit." 
While  Reuchlin  was  bcwil- 
.iiiij  hiin  lit  m  these  quiet 
I H 1  1 1  1 1 1 1  -  ■  1  (  searches,  the 
iiiiiiu  i>t  ih,  S(  hoolmen forced 
nil  -iiilil(  iil\.  and  much  against 
1-  ^Mll.  into  a  fierce  war, 
liK  li  « ,i>  one  of  the  preludes 

Ri  formation. 
There  was  at  Cologne  a 
)ti/(d  Rabbin,  named  Pfef- 
1,  who  was  intimately 
ted  with  the  inquisitor 
i.itcn.  This  man  and 
DiiMunicans  solicited  and 
procured  from  the  Emperor, 
Maximilian,  (it  may  have  been  with  good  intentions,)  an 
order,  in  virtue  of  which  the  Jews  were  to  bring  all  their 
Hebrew  books  (the  Bible  excepted)  to  the  town-house 
of  the  place  where  they  resided.  There  the  books 
were  to  be  burned.  The  motive  alleged  was,  that  they 
were  full  of  blasphemies  against  Jesus  Christ.  It 
must  be  confessed  that  they  were,  at  least,  full  of 
absm'dities,  and  that  the  Jews  themselves  would  not 
have  lost  much  by  the  intended  execution. 

The  emperor  desired  Reuchlin  to  give  his  opinion 
of  the  books.  The  learned  doctor  expressly  singled  j 
out  all  the  books  which  were  written  against  Chris- 
tianity, leaving  them  to  their  destined  fate,  but  he  tried 
to  save  the  others.  "  The  best  method  of  converting 
the  Israelites,"  added  he,  "  would  be  to  establish  two 
Hebrew  professors  in  each  university,  who  might  teach 
tlieologiaus  to  read  the  Bible  in  Hebrew,  and  thus 
refute  the  Jewish  doctors."  The  Jews,  in  consequence 
of  this  advice,  obtained  restitution  of  their  books. 

The    proselytes    and    the    inquisitors,    like   hungry 
ravens  which  see  their  prey  escape,  sent  forth  cries  of 


fury.  Picking  out  different  pii!<sa;;cs  from  the  writings 
of  Reuclilin,  iind  perverting  their  meaning,  they  ile- 
nounccil  the  author  as  a  heretic,  acenseil  liini  of  a 
secret  inclination  to  Judaism,  and  tlirealoneJ  him  with 
the  fetters  of  the  Intiui^ition.  Keuclilin  was  at  first 
taken  by  surprise ;  but  these  men,  always  becoming 
more  and  more  arrogant,  and  prescribing  dishonoiu-- 
ablo  terms,  he,  in  l;"il.l,  published  a  "Defence  against 
Ilia  Detractors  of  Cologne,"  in  which  he  painted  the 
whole  party  in  vivid  colours. 

The  Dominicans  vowed  vengeance,  and  hoped,  by 
an  net  of  authority,  to  re-establish  their  tottering 
jwwer.  Ilochstraten,  at  Mayence,  drew  up  a  charge 
ngaiiist  Keuchlin,  ami  the  lem-ned  works  of  this  learned 
lunu  were  condemned  to  the  tiames.  The  Innovators, 
the  masters  and  disciples  of  the  new  school,  feeling 
that  they  were  all  attacked  in  the  person  of  Keuchlin, 
rose  as  one  man.  Times  were  changed, — Germany 
mid  literature  were  very  different  from  Spain  and 
the  Inquisition. 

The  great  literary  movement  had  created  a  public 
opinion.  Even  the  dignilied  clergy  were  somewhat 
inlluenced  by  it.  Reuclilin  appeals  to  Leo  X.;  and 
that  ))ope,  who  had  no  gi-eat  liking  for  ignorant  monks 
and  fanatics,  remits  the  whole  affair  to  the  IJishop  of 
Spires,  who  declares  lieuchlin  innocent,  and  condcnins 
the  monks  in  the  expenses  of  the  iirocess.  The  Domi- 
nicans, those  )trops  of  the  papacy,  filled  with  rage. 
recur  to  the  infallible  decision  of  Rome;  and  Leo,  not 
knowing  how  to  act  between  the  two  hostile  powers, 
issues  a  mandate  superseding  the  process. 

The  union  of  letters  with  faith  forms  one  of  the 
characteristic  features  of  the  Reformation,  and  distin- 
guishes it,  both  from  the  introduction  of  Christianity, 
ami  the  religious  revival  of  the  present  day.  The 
Christians,  who  were  contemporary  with  the  Apostles, 
had  the  refinement  of  their  age  against  them,  and,  with 
some  few  exceptions,  it  is  the  same  now;  but  the 
majority  of  literary  men  were  with  the  Reformers. 
Even  public  opinion  was  favourable  to  them.  The 
work  thereby  gained  in  extent,  but  perhaps  it  lost  in 
depth. 

Luther,  sensilile  of  all  that  Reuclilin  had  done,  wrote 
to  him  shortly  after  his  victory  over  the  Dominicans, 
"The  I^rd  has  acted  through  you,  in  order  that  the 
light  of  Holy  Scripture  may  again  begin  to  shine  in 
this  Germany,  where,  for  many  ages,  alas  I  it  was  not 
Oiilv  sniDtliered.  but  almost  extingiiislied." 


CHAPTEU  VI ir. 


Canon— At  Paris— Uia  Gcniiu— His  Repntation — 
His  Influence— Popular  Attack  —  Praise  of  Folly— Tatters  — Church 
People— Saints— Folly  and  Uie  Popes- Attack  on  Science— Principle— 
The  Greek  New  Testament— His  Profession  of  Faith— His  Writinjis  anil 
Influence— His  Failings— A  Rcfotm  without  Shocks— Was  it  possible— 
The  Church  without  Refonn— His  timidity- His  Indecision— Erasmus 
loses  himself  with  all  Parties. 

Btrr  a  man  had  now  appeared,  who  regarded  it  as  the 
great  business  of  his  life  to  attack  the  scholasticism  of 
the  universities  and  couvfcnts,  and  was  the  great  writer 


29 


of  the  opposition  at  the  commeuccmout  of  the  sixteenth 
century. 

Reuclilin  was  not  twelve  years  old  when  this  first 
genius  of  the  age  was  born.  A  man  of  great  vivacity 
and  talent,  by  name  Gerard,  a  native  of  Gouda,  in  the 
Netherlands,  loved  a  physician's  daiiglitor.  named  Mar- 
guerite. The  principles  of  Christianity  ilid  not  regu- 
hite  his  life,  or  at  least  passion  silenced  them.  His 
parents,  and  nine  brothers,  would  have  constrained 
him  to  embrace  the  monastic  state.  He  Hed,  leaving 
the  object  of  his  affection  about  to  become  a  mother, 
and  repaired  to  Rome.  Frail  Marguerite  gave  birth  to 
a  son.  Gerard  heard  nothing  of  it;  and  some  time 
after,  having  received  intiination  from  his  parents  that 
the  object  of  his  affection  was  no  more,  he,  in  a 
paroxysm  of  grief,  turned  priest,  and  consecrated  him- 
self for  ever  to  the  service  of  God.  On  his  return  to 
Holland,  she  was  still  alive!  Marguerite  would  not 
marry  another,  and  Gerard,  remaining  faithful  to  his 
sacerdotal  vows,  their  affect  ion  became  concentrated 
on  their  little  son.  His  mother  had  tended  him  with 
the  greatest  care,  and  his  father,  after  his  retiu-n,  sent 
him  to  school,  tlioiigli  he  was  only  four  years  of  age. 
He  was  not  tiiirteen.  when  his  teacher,  Sinthemius,  of 
Deveiiter.  clasping  him  rapturously  in  his  arms,  ex- 
claimed, '•  This  child  will  reach  the  highest  pinnacles 
of  science."     It  was  Erasmus  of  Rotterdam.' 

About  this  time  his  mother  died;  and  his  father, 
broken-hearted,  w.is  not  long  in  following  her  to 
the  grave. 

Young  Erasmus,  left  alone  in  the  world,  shewed  the 
greatest  aversion  to  become  a  monk, — a  state  of  life 
which  his  guardians  were  compelling  him  to  adopt,  but 
to  which,  from  the  circumstances  of  his  birth,  he  may 
be  said  to  have  been  always  opposed.  Ultimately  he 
was  prevailed  upon  to  enter  a  convent  of  canons 
rcgidar;  but  he  had  no  sooner  done  it  than  he  felt,  as 
it  were,  borne  down  by  the  weight  of  his  vows. 
Recovering  a  little  liberty,  he  is  soon  seen,  first  at  the 
Court  of  the  Archbishop  of  Cambray,  and  afterwards 
at  the  I'liiversity  of  Paris,  where  he  prosecuted  his 
slu.liis  in  iMr.iiu'  |i..\.riy.  ImU  with  the  most  indefati- 

L'.il'K-   ililijrii.T.      A-    n   :i-  he  coidd  procure  any 

iimiiry.  Ii.-  riii|,|,.v,a  tlir  lir,-l  |i;irt  of  it  in  the  purchase 
of  Givuk  b.Hiks.  iiiiil  the  reinuiiuler  in  the  purdiase  of 
clothes.  Often  did  the  poor  Dutchman  make  fruitless 
application  to  his  guardians;  and  to  this  probably  it 
was  owing,  that,  in  after  life,  one  of  his  greatest 
pleasures  was  to  give  assistance  to  poor  students. 
Engaged  without  iutermission  in  the  pursuit  of  truth 
and  knowledge,  he  g.ave  a  reluctant  attendance  on 
scholastic  disputes,  and  revolted  from  the  study  of 
theology,  afraid  that  he  might  discover  some  errors  in 
it,  and  be,  in  consequence,  denounced  as  a  heretic. 

It  was  at  this  time  Erasmus  began  to  feel  his 
strength.  By  the  study  of  the  ancients,  he  acquired  a 
perspicuity  and  an  elegance  of  style,  which  placed  him 
far  above  the  most  distinguished  Literati  of  Paris. 
His  employment  as  a  teacher  procured  him  powerful 
friends,  while  the  works  which  he  published  attracted 
general  admiration  and  applause.     He  well  knew  how 

1  Uis  proper  name  was  Gerard,  the  same  as  that  of  his  father  This  Dutch 
iiaiuo  he  translated  into  Latin,  Desidcrius,  (Desircrd,)  and  iulo  Greek, 
Epacftos,  (Brasmus.) 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


to  please  the  public,  and  shaking  off  the  last  remnants 
of  the  school  and  the  cloister,  devoted  himself  entirely 
to  literature,  displaying  in  all  his  writings  those  in- 
genious observations,  and  that  correct,  lively,  and 
enlightened  spirit,  which  at  once  amuse  and  instruct. 

The  laborious  habits  which  he  acquired  at  this 
period  he  retained  through  life.  E^en  in  his  journeys, 
which  were  usually  made  on  horseback,  he  was  never 
idle.  He  composed  while  he  was  rambling  across  the 
fields,  and,  on  arriving  at  his  inn,  committed  his 
thoughts  to  writing.  It  was  in  this  way,  while 
travelling  from  Italy  to  England,  he  composed  his 
"Praise  of  Folly ."^ 

Erasmus,  early  in  life,  acquh-ed  a  high  reputation 
among  the  learned,  but  the  enraged  monks  owed  him  a 
grudge,  and  vowed  vengeance.  He  was  much  courted 
by  princes,  and  was  inexhaustible  in  iinding  excuses  to 
evade  their  invitations,  liking  better  to  gain  his  liveli- 
hood in  correcting  books  witli  the  printer  Frobenius, 
than  to  live,  sm-rouuded  by  luxiu-y  and  honour,  at  the 
magnificent  courts  of  Cliarles  V.,  Henry  VIII.,  and 
Francis  I.,  or  to  encircle  his  head  with  the  Cardinal's 
hat,  wliich  was  offered  him. 

He  taught  in  Oxford  from  1509  to  1516,  and  then 
left  it  for  Biisle,  where  he  fixed  his  residence  in  1521. 

What  was  his  influence  on  the  Reformation? 

It  has  been  overrated  by  some  and  underrated  by 
others.  Erasmus  never  was,  and  never  could  have 
been,  a  Reformer;  but  he  paved  the  way  for  others. 
Not  only  did  ho  diffuse  among  his  contemporaries  a 
love  of  science,  and  a  spirit  of  research  and  examina- 
tion, which  led  others  much  farther  than  he  went  him- 
self, but  he  was  also  able,  through  the  protection  of 
distinguished  prelates  and  mighty  princes,  to  expose 
the  vices  of  the  Church,  and  lash  them  with  the  most 
cutting  satire. 

Erasmus,  in  fact,  attacked  monks  and  abuses  in  two 
ways.  First,  there  was  his  popular  attack.  That  little 
fair-haired  man,  whose  peering  blue  eyes  keenly  ob- 
served whatever  came  before  him,  and  on  whose  lips  a 
somewhat  sarciistic  smile  was  always  playing,  though 
timid  and  embarrassed  in  his  step,  and  apparently  so 
feeble  that  a  breath  of  air  might  have  thrown  hiiu 
down,  was  constantly  pouring  out  elegant  and  biting 
sarcasms  against  the  theology  and  superstition  of  his 
age.  His  natural  character  and  the  events  of  his  life 
had  made  this  habitual  to  him.  Even  in  writings 
wlicre  niitliing  of  the  kind  av:is  to  have  been  expected, 
his  -in-i-nsiic-  liiniumi-  i-  cmi-  l.naking  out,  and,  as  with 
iii'oilli- [Hiiiit^.  iiii|i.iliiiu  tli.i-r  >cluiolnien  and  ignorant 
monks  ag;iin.-l  whuin  he  liaJ  duclared  war.  There  are 
many  features  of  resemblance  between  Erasmus  and 
Voltaire.  Previous  authors  had  given  a  popular  turn 
to  that  element  of  folly  which  mingles  with  all  the 
thoughts  and  all  the  actions  of  human  life.  Enismus 
took  up  the  idea,  and  personifying  Folly,  introduces 
her  under  the  name  of  Moria,  daughter  of  Plutus,  born 
iu  the  Fortunate  Islands,  nursed  on  intoxication  and 
impertinence,  and  swaying  the  sceptre  of  a  mighty 
empire.  Giving  a  description  of  it,  she  paints,  in  suc- 
cession, all  the  states  of  the  Avorld  which  belong  to  her, 
dwelling,  especially,  on  church  folks,  who  refuse  to  own 
her  kindness,  although  she  loads  them  with  her  favours. 

1  Seven  cuiiious  of  tliis  work  were  aisi'osecl  of  in  a  few  months. 


She  directs  her  jibes  and  jests  against  the  labyrinth  of 
dialectics,  in  which  the  theologians  wander  be\vildered, 
and  the  grotesque  syllogisms  by  which  they  pretend  to 
support  the  Church.  She  also  vmveils  the  disorders, 
the  ignorance,  the  impurity,  and  absurd  conduct  of  the 
monks. 

"  They  are  all  mine,"  says  she,  "  those  people  who 
have  no  greater  delight  than  to  relate  mu-aeles,  or  hear 
monstrous  lies,  and  who  employ  them  to  dissipate  the 
ennui  of  others,  nnd.  at  tlio  snmo  time,  to  fill  their  own 
imr-^c-.  (I  .■illinl.'.  ]):irliciil;irly.  tu  ]>rir>ts  and  preachers.) 
N.:n-  llhiii  air  tlmM'wIn.  li:i\.'  :i.li  .]ited  the  foolish,  yet 
pliM-iriL::  prrsua~iHii.  thai  if  tluy  cast  a  look  at  a  bit  of 
wood  or  a  pictm-e  representing  Polyphemus  or  Chris- 
topher, they  will,  at  least,  outlive  that  day." — "  Alas ! 
what  follies,"  continues  Moria,  "  follies  at  which  even 
I  myself  can  scarcely  help  blushing !  Do  we  not  see 
each  country  laying  claim  to  its  particular  saint/  Eaeli 
misery  has  its  saint  and  its  candle.  This  one  relieves 
you  in  tnnthaclif.  thai  one  i;i\fs  a-.sistance  at  child- 
birth, a  third  n  -iiii-.-  your  ~t'>Kii  i;n.i(l.s.  a  fourth  saves 
you  in  sliiiiwntk,  ami  a  lilth  krips  watch  over  your 
flocks.  Some  of  tiiese  are  all-]»werfid  in  many  things 
at  once.  This  is  particularly  the  case  with  the  Virgin, 
the  mother  of  God,  to  whom  the  vulgar  attribute 
almc>"t  iniiro  than  to  her  Son.  In  the  midst  of  all 
tbr-r  r.  .llii~.  if  some  odious  sage  arise,  and,  giving  a 
(•(.lint.  in. .I,',  .xclaira,  (as  in  truth  he  may,)  'You  will 
n.it  |i(ii-li  miserably  if  you  live  as  Christians.  You 
will  r.il.Tin  y.iur  sins,  if  to  the  money  which  you  give 
y.di  a.l.l  haiu'd  of  the  sins  themselves,  tears,  vigils, 
[iray.  rs,  fa-tings,  and  a  thorough  change  in  your  mode 
of  life.  Yon  saint  will  befriend  you  if  you  imitate  his 
life.' — If  some  sage,  I  say,  charitably  duns  such  \v(  .rds 
into  their  ears,  oh !  of  what  felicity  does  he  not  de- 
prive their  soids,  and  into  what  trouble,  what  despond- 
ency, does  he  not  plunge  them !  The  mind  of  man  is 
so  constituted  that  imposture  has  a  much  stronger 
hold  upon  it  than  truth.  If  there  is  any  saint  more 
fabulous  than  another, — for  instance,  a  St.  George,  a 
St.  Christopher,  or  a  St.  Barbara, — you  will  see  them 
adored  with  much  greater  devotion  than  St.  Peter,  St. 
Paul,  or  Christ  himself." 

Folly,  however,  does  not  stop  here ;  she  applies  her 
lash  to  the  bishops  themselves,  "  who  run  more  after 
gold  than  after  souls,  and  think  they  have  done  enough 
when  they  make  a  theatrical  display  of  themselves,  as 
Hdlv  Fathers,  to  whom  adoration  is  due,  aud  when 
tli(\  lil.-s  (,i-  anathematize."  The  daughter  of  "the 
F..1  Illicit. •  l~li  s"  has  the  hardiiiood  even  to  attack  the 
Court  (if  Rdiuc,  and  the  pope  himself,  who,  spending 
his  time  in  diversion,  leaves  Peter  and  Paul  to  perform 
his  duty.  "Are  there,"  says  she,  "more  formidtible 
euemies  of  the  Church  than  those  impious  ])ontiffs, 
who,  by  their  silence,  allow  Jesus  Christ  to  be  des- 
troyed, who  bind  Him  by  their  mercenary  laws,  falsify 
Him  by  their  forced  interpretatious,  and  strangle  Him 
by  their  pestilential  life !" 

Holbein  appended  to  the  "Praise  of  Folly"  most 
grotesque  engravings,  among  which  the  pope  figures 
with  his  triple  crown.  Never,  perliaps,  was  a  work  so 
well  adapted  to  the  wants  of  a  jjarticular  period.  It  is 
impossible  to  describe  the  impression  which  it  produced 
throughout  Christendom.     Twenty-seven  editions  were 


ERASMUS-HIS  WORKS. 


31 


published  in  the  lifetime  of  Erasiniw  ,  it  wiw  tmnslntoil 
into  till  languages,  anil  scrvi-d  nioio  tiiiiii  any  other  to 
coulirm  tlio  ago  in  its  antisaoerdotal  tiMidem-y. 

But  to  this  attack  by  jiopular  saroasni,  Erasmus 
nddud  the  attack  of  scionco  and  erudition.  The  stuily 
of  Greek  and  Latin  literature  had  opened  up  ft  new 
praspect  to  the  modern  genius  which  began  to  be 
awftkened  in  Kumpe.  Erasmus  entered  with  all  his 
heart  into  the  idea  of  the  Italians,  that  the  school  of 
the  ancients  wivs  that  in  which  the  sciences  ought  to 
be  studied;  that,  abandoning  the  irnideqinite  and  absurd 
books  which  had  hitherto  been  used,  it  was  necessary 
to  go  to  Strabo  for  geography,  to  Hippocrates  for 
medicine,  to  Plato  for  philosophy,  to  Ovid  for  mytho- 
logy, and  to  I'liny  for  natural  history.  lUit  he  took  a 
farther  step,  the  step  of  a  giant,  destined  to  lead  to  the 
discovery  of  a  new  world,  of  more  importance  to 
humanity  than  that  which  Columbus  had  just  added  to 
the  old  world.  Following  out  his  principle,  Erasnnis 
insisted  that  men  shoidd  no  longer  study  theology  in 
Scotus  and  Thomas  Aqniniu',  but  go  luul  learn  it  from 
the  Fathers  of  the  Church,  and,  above  all,  from  the 
New  Testament.  lie  shewed  that  it  was  not  even 
necessary  to  keep  close  to  the  Vulgate,  which  swarmed 
with  faults ;  and  he  rendered  an  innuensc  service  to 
truth,  by  publishing  his  critical  edition  of  the  (Jreek 
text  of  the  New  Testament, — a  text  as  little  known  in 
the  West  as  if  it  never  had  existed.  This  edition 
appeared  at  IJiisle  in  1.')16,  the  year  before  the  Kcfor- 
nnition.  Enusnuis  thus  did  for  the  New  Testament 
what  Ueuchlin  had  done  for  the  Old.  Theohigians 
were  thenceforth  able  to  rend  the  word  of  God  iu  the 
origimU  tongues,  .ind  at  a  later  period  to  recognize  the 
purity  of  doctrine  taught  by  the  Keforniers. 

"  I  wish,"  said  Erasnnis,  on  publishing  his  New 
Testament,  "to  bring  to  its  level  that  frigid,  wordy, 
disputatious  thing,  termeil  Theology.  Would  to  God 
tlie  Christian  world  nuiy  derive  advantage  from  the 
work,  proportioned  to  the  pain  and  toil  which  it  has 
cost !"  The  wish  was  accomplished.  It  was  in  vain 
for  the  monks  to  exclaim.  "  He  is  trying  to  correct  the 
Holy  Spirit."  The  New  Testament  of  Erasmus  sent 
forth  a  living  light.  His  parajjlirases  on  the  E])istles 
And  Gospels  of  .St.  Matthew  and  St.  John  ;  his  editions 
of  Cyprian  and  Jerome ;  his  translations  of  Origeii, 
Athanasius,  and  Chrysostom ;  his  ''True  Theology;" 
his  '•  Preacher ;"  his  Commentaries  on  several  of  the 
Psalms,  contributed  greatly  to  spread  a  taste  for  the 
■word  of  God  and  pure  theologj'.  The  effect  of  his 
labours  even  went  farther  than  his  intentions.  Reiich- 
lin  and  Erasmus  restored  the  Bible  to  the  learned  ; 
Luther  restored  it  to  the  jieople.  AVe  have  not  yet 
described  all  that  Erasnnis  did.  When  he  restored 
the  Bible,  he  called  attention  to  its  contents.  "The 
highest  aim  of  the  revival  of  philosophical  studies," 
said  he,  '•  should  be  to  give  a  knowledge  of  the  pure 
and  simple  Christianity  of  the  Bible."  An  admirable 
sentiment !  AVould  to  God  the  organs  of  philosophy, 
in  our  day,  were  n.s  well  acquainted  with  their  calling ! 
"I  am  firmly  resolved,"  continued  he,  'Mo  die  study- 
ing the  Scriptures ;  it  is  my  joy  and  my  i)cace."  "  The 
sum  of  all  Christian  philosophy,"  he  elsewhere  says, 
"is  reduced  to  this:  To  place" all  our  hope  in  God, 
who,  through  grace,  \nthout  oiu:  merits,  gives  us  everj-- 


thing  by  Jesus  Christ :  to  know  that  we  arc  ronsomed 
by  the  death  of  His  Son  :  to  die  to  worldly  lusts,  and 
walk  conformably  to  His  doctrine  and  His  example, 
not  only  doing  no  injury  to  any,  but,  on  the  contrary, 
doing  good  to  all  :  to  bear  trials  patiently,  in  the  hopo 
of  future  recompense:  in  fine,  to  claim  no  credit  to 
om-selves  because  of  our  virtues,  but  give  thanks  to 
God  for  all  OIU-  faculties,  and  jdl  our  works.  These 
are  the  feelings  which  ought  to  j)ervade  the  whole 
man,  initil  they  have  become  a  .second  nature." 

Then,  raising  his  voice  against  the  great  mass  of 
ecclesiasiical  injunctions,  regarding  dress,  fasts,  feast- 
days,  vows,  marriage,  and  confessions,  by  which  the 
|)eople  were  oppressed,  and  the  j)riest  was  enriched, 
Erasmus  exclaims,  "In  churches,  the  interpretation  of 
the  Gospel  is  scarcely  thought  of.  The  better  part  of 
sermons  must  meet  the  wishes  of  the  commissaries  of 
indulgences.  The  holy  doctrine  of  Christ  must  bo 
suppressed,  or  interpreted  contrary  to  its  meaning,  and 
for  their  profit.  Cm-e  is  now  hopeless,  unless  Christ 
himself  turn  the  hearts  of  kings  and  pontiffs,  and 
awaken  them  to  inquire  after  true  piety." 

The  works  of  Erasmus  rapidly  succeeded  each  other. 
Ho  laboured  incessantly,  and  his  writings  were  read 
just  as  they  came  from  his  pen.  That  spirit,  that 
native  life,  that  rich,  refined,  sparkling  and  bold  intel- 
lect, which,  without  restraint,  poiu-ed  out  its  treasures 
before  his  contemporaries,  carried  away  and  entranced 
vast  uunjbers  of  readers,  who  eagerly  devoured  the 
works  of  the  ]>hilosopher  of  Kotferdam.  In  this  way 
he  soon  became  the  most  influential  man  in  Christen- 
dom, and  saw  ])ensions  and  crowns  raining  down  upon 
him  from  all  quarters. 

When  we  contemplate  the  great  revolution,  which, 
at  a  later  jjoriod,  renewed  the  Church,  it  is  impo.ssible 
not  to  own  that  Erasmus  was  used  by  many  as  a  kind 
of  bridge,  over  which  they  passed.  Many  who  would 
have  taken  alarm  at  evangelical  truths,  if  presented  in 
all  their  force  and  purity,  yielded  to  the  charm  of  his 
writings,  and  ultimately  figured  among  the  most  zeal- 
ous promoters  of  the  Reformation. 

But  the  very  circumstance  of  his  being  good  in  prc- 
j)ariug,  prevented  him  from  being  good  at  performing. 
"  Erasmus  knows  very  well  how  to  expose  error,"  says 
Luther,  "but  he  knows  not  how  to  teach  the  truth." 
The  Gospel  was  not  the  fire  which  warmed  and  sus- 
tained his  life,  the  centre  around  which  his  activity 
radiated.  He  was,  first  of  all,  a  learned,  and,  in  the 
second  place,  only  a  Christian  man.  He  wa.s  too  much 
under  the  influence  of  vanity  to  have  a  decided  influ- 
ence on  his  age.  He  anxiously  calculated  the  effect 
which  every  step  he  took  might  have  on  his  reputation, 
and  there  was  nothing  he  liked  so  much  to  talk  of  as 
himself  and  his  fame.  "  The  jKipc."  wrote  he  to  an 
intimate  friend,  with  puerile  vanity,  at  the  period  when 
he  became  the  declared  opponent  of  Luther,  "  the  popo 
has  sent  me  a  letter  full  of  kindness  and  expressions  of 
respect.  His  secretary  solemnly  vows  that  the  like 
was  never  heiu-d  of,  and  that  it  was  written  word  for 
word  at  the  pope's  own  dictation  " 

Envsmus  and  Luther  are  the  representatives  of  two 
great  ideas  on  the  subject  of  reform,  and  of  two  great 
j)arties  of  their  own  age,  and  of  all  ages.  The  one  is 
composed  of  men,  whose  leading  characteristic  is  a 


32 


HISTORY  OF  THE  EEFOEMATION. 


prudeutial  timidity;  tlie  other  of  men  of  corn-age  aud 
resolution.  These  two  parties  were,  at  this  period, 
personified  in  these  two  distinguished  heads.  The  men 
of  prudence  thought  that  the  cultivation  of  theological 
science  might  lead  gradually,  and  without  disruption, 
to  the  reformation  of  the  Church.  Tlie  men  of  action 
thought  that  the  diffusion  of  more  correct  ideas  among 
the  leai-ned  would  not  put  a  stop  to  the  superstitions  of 
the  people,  and  that  the  correction  of  particular  abuses 
was  of  little  avail,  unless  the  whole  life  of  the  Chiu-ch 
were  renewed. 

"  A  disadvantageous  peace,"  said  Erasmus,  "  is  far 
better  than  the  justest  war."     He  thought  (and  how 


many  Erasmuses  have  been  and  still  are  in  the  world?) 
that  a  Reformation  which  shook  the  Church  might  run 
a  risk  of  overturning  it;  and  he  was  therefore  terrified 
when,  on  looking  forward,  he  saw  the  passions  of  men 
excited,  saw  evil  everywhere  mingling  itself  with  any 
little  good  that  could  be  accomplished,  existing  insti- 
tutions destroyed  in  the  absence  of  others  to  supply 
their  place,  and  the  vessel  of  the  Church  leaking  in 
every  part,  and  at  length  engulfed  amid  the  storm. 
"  Those  who  bring  the  sea  into  new  lagoons,"  said  he, 
"  are  often  deceived  in  the  result ;  the  formidable  ele- 
ment, once  introduced,  does  not  take  the  direction  which 
I  they  -^vished  to  give  it,  but  rushes  where  it  pleases,  and 


causes  proat  <lc\  astnlK.ii.  iU-  tins  as  it  may,  con- 
tinued he,  "  let  disturbances  be  by  all  means  avoided. 
Better  put  up  witli  wicked  princes  than  by  innovations 
enthrone  evil." 

But  the  courageous  among  his  contemporaries  were 
prepared  with  their  answer.  History  had  clearly 
enough  demonstrated,  that  a  frank  exposition  of  the 
truth,  and  a  mortal  struggle  with  falsehood,  could 
alone  secure  the  victory.  Had  temporizing  and  politic 
artifices  been  resorted  to,  the  wiles  of  the  papal  court 
would  have  extinguished  the  light  in  its  first  glimmer- 
ings. Had  not  all  sorts  of  mild  methods  been  tried  for 
ages  ?     Had  not  Council  been  held  after  Council,  with 


tlie  view  or  riTonniiiL;  tiir  (_  lniri'u;  Vet  all  had  been 
useless.  Wliy  pretend  to  repeat  an  experiment  that 
had  so  often  failed? 

No  doubt  a  fundamental  reform  might  be  effected 
without  disruption.  But  when  did  anything  great  and 
good  make  its  appearance  among  men  without  causing 
agitation?  This  fear  of  seeing  evil  mingle  -vWth  good, 
if  legitimate,  would  arrest  the  noblest  and  holiest 
enterprises.  We  must  not  fear  the  evil  which  may  be 
heaved  up  in  the  course  of  great  agitation,  but  be 
strong  in  combating  and  destroying  it. 

Besides,  is  there  not  an  entire  difference  between  the 
commotion  which  human  passions  produces  and  that 


ERAf5MUS  AND  LUTHER  CONTRASTED. 


which  /inimtca  from  iho  Spirit  of  Go<l?  Tlie  ono 
shakes  i)cicty,  tlio  other  consolidates  it.  How  errone- 
ous to  imagine,  like  Erasmus,  that  in  tlie  state  in  which 
Chrislinuiiy  then  was,  with  that  mixture  of  opposite 
clcmcnt-s  truth  and  falsehood,  lite  and  death,  violent 
shocks  inijiht  still  be  prevented!  As  well  might  you 
try  to  shut  the  crater  of  Vc:<uvius,  when  the  angry 
elements  are  actually  at  war  in  its  bosom!  The  mid- 
dle ages  had  seen  more  than  one  violent  commotion  in 
au  atmosphere  less  loaded  with  storms  than  at  the 
period  of  the  Ueformation.  The  thing  wanted  at  such 
n  time  is  not  to  arrest  and  8u|ipress,  but  to  direct 
and  guide. 

If  the  Kefonnation  had  not  burst  forth,  who  can  tell 
the  fearful  ruin  by  which  its  place  might  have  been 
supplied .'  S«>ciety,  a  prey  to  a  thotisand  elements 
of  destruction,  and  destitute  of  regenerating  and  coii- 
sen-alivc  elements,  would  have  been  dreadfully  con- 
vulsed. Assuredly  it  would  not  have  been  a  reform  to 
the  tJisto  of  Erasmus,  or  such  an  one  as  many  moderate 
but  timid  men  in  our  day  dream  of.  that  would  then 
have  overtaken  society.  The  people,  devoid  of  that 
light  and  piety  which  the  Ueformation  ciuried  down 
into  the  humblest  ranks,  giving  themselves  up  to  the 
violence  of  their  passions,  and  to  a  re--itless  spirit  of 
revolt,  would  have  burst  forth  like  a  wild  beast  broken 
loose  from  its  chain,  after  having  been  goaded  to 
madness. 

The  Keformation  was  nothing  but  an  interposition 
of  the  Spirit  of  God  among  men — a  setting  of  the 
world  ill  order  by  the  hand  of  God.  No  doubt,  it 
might  stir  up  the  fennenting  elements  which  lie  hidden 
in  the  human  heart ;  but  God  was  there  to  overrule 
them.  Evangelical  doctrine,  heavenly  truth,  penetrat- 
ing the  masses  of  the  population,  destroyed  what  de- 
served to  perish ;  but,  at  the  same  time,  gave  new 
strength  to  all  that  deserved  to  remain.  The  Kcfor- 
nintiou  exerted  itself  iji  building  up,  and  it  is  mere 
prejudice  to  allege  that  it  destroyed.  "The  plough- 
share, loo,"  it  has  been  truly  said,  in  speaking  of  the 
Ucfonuation,  '•  might  think  it  hurts  the  earth,  bec.iuse 
it  cuts  it  asunder,  whereas  it  only  makes  it  ]>roductive." 

The  great  principle  of  Erasmus  was,  '•  Give  light, 
and  the  darkness  will  disappear  of  itself."  The  prin- 
ciple is  good,  and  Luther  acted  on  it.  But  when  the 
enemies  of  the  light  strive  to  extinguish  it,  or  to  force 
the  flambeau  out  of  the  hand  which  carries  it,  is  it 
necessary,  from  a  love  of  jieace,  t<j  let  them  do  so  ? — 
ought  not  the  wicked  to  be  resisted  ? 

Erasmus  was  dcticient  in  courage.  Now,  courage 
is  indispensable,  whether  it  be  to  effect  a  Reformation, 
or  to  stonu  a  town.  There  was  much  timidity  in  his 
character.  From  a  1)oy  the  very  name  of  death  made 
him  tremble.  He  was  excessively  anxious  about  his 
health,  and  would  grudge  no  sacrifice  in  order  to  escape 
from  a  place  where  some  contagious  malady  prevailed. 
His  love  of  the  comforts  of  life  was  greater  even  than 
his  vanity,  and  hence  his  rejection,  on  more  than  one 
occasion,  of  the  most  brilliant  offers. 

Accordingly,  he  made  no  pretensions  to  the  charac- 
ter of  a  Keformer.  '"If  the  corruptions  of  the  Court 
of  Rome  demand  some  great  and  prompt  remedy," 
said  he,  '•  it  is  no  affair  of  mine,  or  of  those  like  me." 
He  had  not  the  strong  faith  which  animated  Luther. 


While  the  latter  was  always  i)rcparcd  to  yield  up  his 
life  for  the  truth,  Erasmus  candidly  declared,  "  Others 
may  aspire  to  martyrdom ;  as  for  me,  I  deem  not  my- 
self worthy  of  the  honour.  Were  some  tumult  to  arise, 
I  fear  I  would  play  the  part  of  Peter." 

Erasmus,  by  his  writings  and  his  sayings,  had  dono 
more  than  any  other  man  to  prepare  the  Ri-formation ; 
but  when  ho  saw  the  teni])est,  which  he  himself  had 
raised,  actually  come,  he  trembled.  He  would  have 
given  anything  to  bring  back  the  calm  of  other  days, 
even  though  accompixnied  with  its  dense  fogs.  It  w.ns 
no  longer  lime.  Tlie  embankment  had  burst,  and  it 
was  iiniiossible  to  arrest  the  flood  which  was  destined 
at  once  to  purify  and  fertilize  the  world.  Erasnms 
was  powerful  as  an  iiislrumcut  of  God;  but  when  he 
ceased  to  be  so.  he  was  nothing. 

Ultimately,  Erasmus  knew  not  for  which  parly  to 
declare.  He  was  not  pleased  with  any,  and  he  had 
his  fears  of  all.  '•  It  is  dangerous  to  speak,"  said  he, 
'•  and  it  is  dangerous  to  be  silent."  In  all  great  reli- 
gious movements  we  meet  with  those  irr&solute  charac- 
ters, which,  though  respectable  in  some  points  of  view, 
do  injury  to  the  truth,  and,  in  wishing  not  to  displease 
any,  displease  all. 

What  would  become  of  the  truth  did  not  God  raise 
up  bolder  cliamiuons  to  defend  it  ?  The  following  is 
the  advice  which  Erasmus  gave  to  Viglius  Zuichem, 
(afterwards  President  of  the  Supreme  Court  at  Brus- 
sels.) as  to  the  manner  in  which  he  ought  to  conduct 
himself  towards  the  sectaries — (this  was  the  name  by 
which  he  had  already  begun  to  designate  the  Re- 
formers)— "  5Iy  friendship  for  you  makes  me  desirous 
that  you  should  keep  far  aloof  from  the  contagion  of 
the  scots,  and  not  furnish  them  with  any  pretext  for 
saying,  '  Zuichem  is  ours.'  If  you  approve  their  doc- 
trine, at  least  disguise  it ;  and,  above  all,  do  not  enter 
into  discussion  with  them.  A  law7er  should  finesse 
with  these  people  as  a  dying  man  once  did  with  the 
devil.  The  devil  asked  him,  'What  believest  thou?' 
The  dying  man,  afraid  that  if  he  made  a  confession  of 
his  faith,  he  might  be  surprised  into  some  heresy,  re- 
plied, 'What  the  Church  believes.'  The  devil  rejoined, 
'  What  does  the  Church  believe  ?'  The  man  again 
replied,  '  What  I  believe.*  The  de^-il,  once  more, 
•And  what  dost  thou  believe?' — 'What  the  Church 
believes.'"  Duke  George  of  Saxony,  a  mortal  enemy 
of  Luther,  receiving  an  equivocal  answer  from  Eras- 
mus to  a  question  which  he  had  put  to  him,  said,  '■  My 
dear  Erasmus,  wash  the  fur  for  me,  and  do  not 
merely  wet  it."  Secundus  Curio,  in  one  of  his  works, 
describes  two  heavens — the  Papistical  and  the  Chris- 
tian heaven.  He  does  not  find  Erasmus  in  cither,  but 
discovers  him  moving  constantly  between  them  in  end- 
less circles. 

Such  was  Erasmus.  He  wanted  that  internal  liberty 
which  makes  a  man  truly  free.  How  different  he 
would  have  been  if  he  had  abandoned  himself,  and 
sacrificed  all  for  truth  !  But  after  trying  to  effect 
some  reforms  with  the  approbation  of  the  Church,  and 
for  Rome  deserting  the  Reformation  when  he  saw  the 
two  to  be  incompatible,  he  lost  himself  with  all  parties. 
On  the  one  hand,  his  p.alinodes  could  not  su])pres3  the 
rnge  of  the  fanatical  partisans  of  the  Papacy.  They 
felt  the  mischief  which  he  had  done  them,  and  they 


T=i 


HUTTEN  AT  BRUSSELS. 


35 


buted  to  tlio  soooiitl  [uxTt.  It  is  n  jiii-tiiro  in  bold 
chiimctcrs, — n  caricnturo  sometimes  i-.mrsely  painted, 
but  full  of  truth  and  vif.inir,  — ii  Blrikinjr  likeness  in 
colours  of  lire.  Tho  effect  wiis  iuinienso.  Monks, 
who  arc  adversaries  of  Reuchlin,  and  tho  supposed 
authors  of  the  litters,  discourse  on  the  affairs  of  the 
time,  and  on  theological  subjects,  after  their  own 
manner,  and  in  their  barbarous  Latin.  They  address 
to  their  correspi indent,  Ortuiii  Gratius,  professor  at 
Cologne,  and  friend  of  rfefferkoru,  the  silliest  and 
most  useless  (piestions.  They  give  the  most  amusing 
proof  of  the  excessive  ignorance  and  incredulity,  tiieir 
Buperstition,  their  low  and  vulg:ir  spirit,  their  coar-e 
gluttony  in  making  a  god  of  their  belly;  and,  at  the 
same  time,  their  pride,  their  fanatical  and  persecuting 
real.  They  inform  hiui  of  several  of  their  tlroll  adven- 
tures, their  e.-ica|H.-3,  their  dissoluteness,  and  a  variety 
of  scandals  in  the  lives  of  Iloclistratcn.  Pfefferkorn, 
and  other  leaders  of  their  |)arly.  The  tone  of  these 
letters,  sometimes  hypocritical  and  sometimes  childish, 
gives  them  a  very  comic  effect ;  and  yet  the  whole  is 
so  natural,  that  the  Dominicans  and  Franciscans  of 
England  received  the  work  with  high  approbation, 
believing  that  it  really  w.is  composed  on  the  principles 
of  their  order,  and  in  defence  of  it.  A  prior  of  15ra- 
baiit,  iu  his  credulous  simplicity,  purchased  a  great 
number  of  copies,  and  presented  them  to  the  most 
distinguished  among  the  Dominicans.  The  monks, 
irritated  more  and  more,  applied  to  the  pope  for  a 
stringent  l)ull  against  all  who  should  d.are  to  read  these 
epistles;  but  Leo  X.  refused  to  grant  it.  They  were 
acconlingly  obliged  to  put  up  with  the  general  laugh, 
and  gidp  down  their  rage.  No  work  gave  a  stronger 
blow  to  these  pillars  of  Papism.  But  it  was  not  by 
jesting  and  satire  that  the  Gospel  was  to  triumph. 
ILid  this  course  been  persisted  in — had  the  Reformers, 
instead  of  attacking  the  Hefomiation  with  the  weaiwiis 
of  Go<l,  had  recourse  to  the  jeering  spirit  of  the  world, 
the  cause  had  been  lost.  Luther  loudly  condemned 
these  satires.  A  friend  having  sent  him  one  of  them. 
entitled,  '•  The  Tenor  of  the  Supplication  of  Pasqnin," 
he  wrote  in  aiuswer.  *•  The  fiK)lish  things  you  sent  mc 
appear  to  be  written  by  a  mind  which  is  under  no 
control.  I  submitted  them  to  a  meeting  of  friends, 
and  they  have  all  given  the  same  opinion."  And 
spooking  of  the  same  work,  he  writes  to  another  of  his 
corres|)ondents,  "This  'Supplication'  appears  tome  to 
be  by  the  same  hand  as  the  '  Letters  of  Some  Obscure 
Men.'  I  ajjpmvc  of  his  wishes,  but  I  approve  not  of  bis 
work,  for  he  di>es  not  refrain  from  injury  and  insult." 
This  sentence  is  severe,  but  it  shews  what  kind  of 
spirit  was  iu  Luther,  and  how  superior  he  w.as  to  his 
contemporaries.  It  must  be  added,  however,  that  he 
was  not  at  all  times  observant  of  these  wise  maxims. 

I'lrich  having  been  obliged  to  renounce  the  protec- 
tion of  the  Archbishop  of  M.iyence,  applied  for  that  of 
Ch.trlcs  v.,  who  had  at  this  time  quarrelled  with  the 
pope,  and  accordingly  repaircil  to  Brnssels,  where 
Charles  wa*!  holding  his  court.  But  so  far  from 
obt-iining  anything,  he  learned  that  the  pope  had  re- 
quired the  emperor  to  send  him  to  Rome  bound  hand 
and  foot.  The  inquisitor,  Hochsfraten,  Rcuehlin's 
pcrsocntor,  w.os  one  of  those  whom  Rome  had  charged 
to  i-ursue  him.     Ulrich,  indignant  that  such  a  demand 


should  have  been  made  to  the  emperor,  quitted  Bra- 
bant. When  a  short  way  from  15rus.sel.s,  he  met  Iloch- 
straton  on  the  high  road.  The  inquisitor,  frightened 
out  of  his  wits,  falls  on  his  knees,  and  commends  his 
soul  to  God  and  the  .saints.  "  No,"  said  tho  knight, 
''  1  will  not  soil  my  sword  with  such  blood  as  yours !" 
and  giving  him  several  strokes  with  the  fl.it  of  his 
sword,  allowed  him  to  depart. 

Iliittcn  took  refuge  in  the  castle  of  Ebcrnbourg, 
where  Francis  de  Seckingcn  offered  an  asylum  to  all 
who  were  persecuted  by  the  L'ltraiuontanists.  It  was 
here  that  his  ardent  zeal  for  the  emancipation  of  his 
country  dictated  the  remarkable  letters  which  he  ad- 
dressed to  Charles  V.,  Frederick.  Elector  of  Saxony, 
Albert,  Archbishop  of  Mayence.  and  the  princes  and 
nobles,  and  which  entitle  him  to  a  jdace  among  the 
most  distinguished  authors.  Here,  too,  he  composed 
all  those  works  which,  being  read  and  comprehended 
by  the  people,  inspired  Germany  with  a  hatred  of 
Rome  and  a  love  of  freedom.  Devoted  to  the  cause 
of  the  Reformers,  his  object  was  to  induce  the  nobility 
to  take  up  arms  in  favour  of  the  Gosjiel,  and  fall  with 
the  sword  on  that  Rome  which  Luther  only  wished  to 
destroy  by  the  "Word,  and  by  the  invincible  force  of 
truth." 

Still,  amid  all  this  fondness  for  war,  we  are  pleased 
at  tinding  tenderness  and  delic:icy  of  sentiment  in 
Iliittcn.  On  the  death  of  his  parents,  though  he  was 
the  eldest  son.  he  gave  up  all  the  family  ])ropcrty  to 
his  brothers,  and  prayed  them  not  to  write  him  or  send 
him  any  money,  lest,  notwithstanding  their  innocence, 
they  might  be  brought  into  trouble  by  his  enemies, 
anil  fall  into  the  ditch  along  with  him. 

If  the  truth  cannot  own  Iliitten  for  one  of  her 
children,  (for  her  companions  arc  ever  holiness  of  life 
and  pnrity  of  heart.)  she  will,  at  le.ist,  make  honour- 
able mention  of  him  as  one  of  the  most  redoubtable 
adversiiries  of  error. 

A  similar  testimony  may  be  borne  to  Frangois  de 
Seckingcn,  his  illustrious  friend  and  patron.  This 
noble  chevalier,  whom  several  of  his  contemporaries 
deemed  worthy  of  the  imperial  crown,  holds  a  first 
jjlace  among  the  warriors  who  were  the  antagonists  of 
Rome.  While  delighting  in  the  noise  of  .inns,  he  had 
an  ardent  love  of  .science,  and  a  high  veneration  for 
its  |)rofessors.  "\^^len  at  the  head  of  an  army  which 
threatened  AVurtcmberg,  he  g.ive  orders,  in  the  event 
of  Stuttgard  being  taken  by  assault,  to  spare  the 
propcrtj-  and  house  of  the  celebrated  scholar,  John 
Rouchlin.  lie  afterwards  invited  him  to  his  camp, 
and.  cmbr.tcing  him,  offered  to  assist  him  in  his 
quarrel  with  the  monks  of  Cologne.  Fi>r  a  long  time 
chivalrv  had  gloried  in  despising  literature,  but  this 
period  presents  us  with  a  different  spectacle.  Under 
the  massy  cuirass  of  the  Seckingcns  and  Iliittcns,  we 
perceive  the  intellectual  movement  which  is  beginning 
to  be  everywhere  felt.  Tho  first-fruits  which  the  Re- 
formation gives  to  the  world  are  warriors  enamoured 
with  the  arts  of  peace. 

Iliitten,  who,  on  his  return  from  Brussels,  had  taken 
refuge  in  the  cjistle  of  Seckingen,  invited  the  v.ilorous 
knights  to  study  the  evangelical  doctrine,  and  mako 
him  acquainted  with  the  foundations  on  which  it  rests. 
"And   is   there  any  one,"   exclaimed   Seckiugeu  iu 


36 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


astonishment,  "who  dares  to  overturn  such  an  edifice? 
Who  could  do  it  ?" 

Several  individuals,   who   afterwards  became  cele- 
brated as  Reformers,  found  an  asylum  in  this  castle ; 


COLOGNE 


among  others,  Martin  Bucer,  Aquila,  Schwebel,  and 
CEcolampadius.  so  that  Iliitton  jnstlv  stvled  Ebern- 
bourg  '-til.-  liotrl  nf  tl,..  jii-l."     (i:.M!;nniKi.lins  had  to 


preach  daily  in  the  castle ;  but  the  warriors  there  as- 
sembled beijan  to  weary  hearing  so  much  of  the  meek 
virtues  of  Christianity;  and  the  sermons  of  QT.eolam- 
padius,  though  he  labom-ed  to  shorten  them,  seemed 
too  long.  They,  indeed,  repaired  to  the 
^-  ^  chiu-eh  almost  every  day,  but,  for  the 

~"^"^^^^^  most  part,  only  to  hear  the  blessing  and 

^  ciffer  a  short  prayer.     Hence  CEcolam- 

^e^  jKidius  exclaimed,  "Alas!  the  Word  is 

^_S[|M  h<^'re  sown  on  stony  ground." 

^fflSl  Seckingen,  longing  to  serve  the  cause 

_»_nppi|J  of  truth  in  his  own  way,  declared  war 

"  1  on  the  Archbishop  of  Treves,  "  in  or- 

der," as  he  said,  '•  to  open  a  door  for  the 
Gospel."  In  vain  did  Luther,  who  had 
by  this  time  appeared,  endeavour  to  dis- 
suade him  ;  he  attacked  Treves  with  five 
thousand  knights  and  a  thousand  com- 
mon soldiers,  but  the  bold  archbishop, 
aided  by  the  Elector  Palatine  and  the 
Landgrave  of  Hesse,  forced  him  to  re- 
treat. The  following  spring,  the  allied 
jirinces  attacked  him  in  his  castle  of 
Landstein.  After  a  bloody  assault,  Sec- 
kingen, having  been  mortally  wounded, 
was  forced  to  surrender.  The  tliree 
princes,  accordingly,  make  their  way  into 
the  fortress,  and,  after  searching  through 
it,  at  last  find  the  indomitable  knight  on 
his  death-bed,  in  a  subterraneous  vault. 
He  stretches  out  his  hand  to  the  Elector  Palatine, 
without  seeming  to  pay  any  attention  to  the  other 
princes,  who  overwhelm  him  with  questions  and  re- 
proaches:  "Leave  me  at  rest,"  said  he  to  them;  "I 
am  now  preparing  to  answer  a  mightier  than  you ! 
.  .  ."  When  Luther  heard  of  his  death  he  ex- 
claimed, "The  Lord  is  just,  yet  wonderful!  It  is  not 
with  the  swiird  that  He  means  to  propagate  the  Gospel !" 


.y-^' 


m^:-''^^j^l^^''-^M^' 


TAN  TINE.    TREVES, 


HARMUT  OF  CRONBERG. 


37 


8ccn  coming  forth,  who  were  afterwards  to  occupy  the 
first  stations  in  the  Chiuxli,  but  even  individuals,  who 
continued  all  their  lives  to  labour  in  the  humblest  pro- 
fessions, contributed  powerfully  to  the  great  awaken- 
ing of  Christendom.  It  may  be  proper  to  give  some 
tr.iit.^  in  the  life  of  one  of  Ihiiii. 


Such  was  the  sad  eud  of  a  warrior,  who,  as  emperor 
or  elector,  might,  perhaps,  have  raised  Germany  to 
high  renown  ;  but  who,  coutincd  within  a  limited  circle, 
wasted  the  great  powers  with  which  he  was  endowed. 
It  was  not  in  the  tumultuous  spirit  of  these  warriors 
that  Divine  truth,  which  had  come  down  from  heaven, 
was  to  take  up  her  abode.  Theirs  were 
not  the  weapons  by  which  she  was  to 
conquer ;  God,  in  aiuiihilating  the  mad 
projects  of  Seckingcn,  gave  a  new  illus- 
tration of  the  saying  of  St.  Paul,  "The 
weapons  of  our  warfare  are  not  carnal, 
but  mighty  through  God." 

Another  chevalier,  Ilannut  of  Cron- 
berg.  a  friend  of  Hiittcn  and  Seckingen. 
appears  to  have  had  more  wisdom  and  '■ 
more  knowledge  of  the  truth.  He  wrote  f 
with  great  moderation  to  Leo  X.,  be-  ^ 
seeching  him  to  give  up  his  temporal 
power  to  its  rightful  jiossessor, — viz.. 
tho  emperor.  Addressing  his  depen- 
dents like  a  father,  he  endeavoured  to 
make  them  comprehend  the  doctrine- 
of  the  Gospel ;  and  exhorted  them  to 
faith,  obedience,  and  conlidcnce  in  Jesu> 
Christ,  "  who,"  added  he,  "  is  the  sove- 
reign Lord  of  all."  lie  resigned  a  pen- 
sion of  two  hundred  ducats  into  the 
hands  of  the  emperor,  "because  he  was 
unwilling,"  as  he  expressed  it,  "to  continue  in  the 
service  of  one  who  lent  his  car  to  tho  enemies  of  the 
truth."  I  have  somewhere  met  with  a  beautiful  say- 
ing of  his.  which  seems  to  place  him  far  above  Hiitten 
and  Seckingen.  "The  Holy  Spirit,  our  heavenly 
Teacher,  is  able,  when  He  pleases,  to  teach  us  more  of 
the  faith  of  Christ  in  one  hour  than  we  could  learn 
in  ten  ye.nrs  at  the  University  of  Paris." 

Those  who  look  for  the  friends  of  reformation  only 
on  the  steps  of  thrones,  or  in  cathedrals  and  .tcademics, 
and  maintain  that  no  such  friends  exist  among  the 
people,  are  under  a  serious  mistake.  God,  while  pre- 
paring tho  heart  of  the  wise  and  powerful,  was  also 
preparing,  in  retirement,  many  simple  and  humble- 
minded  men  who  were  one  day  to  become  obedient  to 
the  \\'o  il.  The  history  of  the  period  gives  evidence 
of  tl  e  fermentation  which  was  then  going  on  among 
the  humbler  classes.  The  popular  literature,  previous 
to  the  Keformation,  had  a  tendency  directly  opposed 
to  the  spirit  which  was  prevalent  in  the  Church.  In 
the  "  Eulenspiegel."  a  celebrated  popular  poetical  col- 
lection of  the  period,  the  laugh  is  incessantly  kept  up 
at  priests,  be.ist.^,  and  gluttons,  who  keep  full-stocked 
cellars,  fine  horses,  and  well-lined  pantries.  In  the 
"  Reynard  Rcineke,"  the  households  of  priests,  with 
their  little  children,  jilay  an  important  part.  Another 
popuhir  writer  thunders  with  .all  his  might  against 
those  ministers  of  Christ  who  ride  splendid  horses,  but 
won't  fight  the  iniidels;  and  .John  R<i?enblut,  in  one  of 
his  carnival  games,  brings  the  Grand  Turk  upon  the 
stage,  to  preach  a  seasonable  sermon  to  all  the  states 
of  Christendom. 

It  w.as  unquestionably  in  the  bowels  of  the  people 
that  the  Reformation,  which  was  soon  to  break  out, 
was  fermenting.     Not  only  from  this  class  were  youths 


On  the  5th  No\  ember,  1491,  a  tailor  of  Nuremberg, 
by  name  Hans  Sacln,  had  a  son  born  to  hun.  The 
son,  named  Hans,  (John.)  like  his  father,  after  having 
received  some  scliooling,  was  apprenticed  to  a  shoe- 
maker. Young  Hans  availed  himself  of  the  liberty  of 
thought,  which  this  humble  profession  afforded,  to 
penetrate  into  the  higher  world,  in  which  his  soul 
delighted.  Songs,  after  they  ceased  in  the  castles  of 
chiv.nli\    seem  to  ln\c  soncrlit   ind  to  ln\o  found,  an 


HANS    SACHS      HOUSE, 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


asylum  among  the  burgliers  of  the  joyous  cities  of 
Germany.  A  siuging-school  was  held  in  the  Chiu-ch 
of  Nuremberg.  The  performances  which  took  place 
there,  and  iu  -which  young  Hans  was  accustomed  to 
join,  opened  his  heart  to  religious  impressions,  and 
helped  to  awaken  a  taste  for  poetry  and  music.  The 
genius  of  the  youth  could  not  long  brook  confinement 
within  the  walls  of  his  v/orkshop.  He  wished  to  see 
with  his  own  eyes  that  world  of  which  he  had  read  so 
much,  and  been  told  so  many  stories  by  his  comrades, 
and  which  his  imagination  peopled  with  wonders.  In 
1511  he  bundles  up  his  eifects,  and  sets  out  in  the 
direction  of  the  South.  The  young  traveller,  falling 
in  with  gay  comrades — students  roaming  the  country — 
and  many  dangerous  temptations,  soon  feels  a  serious 
struggle  within.  The  lusts  of  the  world  and  his  pious 
resolutions  war  with  each  other.  Trembling  for  the 
result,  he  takes  flight,  and,  iu  1513,  hides  himself  in 
the  little  town  of  Wels  in  Austria,  where  he  lives  in 
retirement,  devoting  himself  to  the  study  of  the  fine 
arts.  The  Emperor  Maximilian  happens  to  pass 
through  the  town  with  a  brilliant  suite,  and  the  young 
poet  is  quite  fascinated  with  the  splendour  of  the  court. 
The  prince  receives  him  into  his  hunting  train,  and 
Hans  once  more  forgets  himself,  under  the  noisy  vaidts 
of  the  palace  of  luspriich.  But  his  conscience  again 
sounds  the  alarm,  and  the  young  huntsman,  imme- 
diately throwing  aside  his  brilliant  uniform,  takes 
his  departure,  and  arrives  at  Schwatz,  near  Munich. 
There,  iu  1514,  at  the  age  of  twenty,  he  composed  his 
first  hymn,  "In  Honour  of  God,"  setting  it  to  a 
remarkable  air.  It  was  received  with  great  ajiplause. 
In  the  course  of  his  journeys  he  was  witness  to  many 
sad  proofs  of  the  abuses  under  which  religion  groaned. 
On  his  return  to  Nuremberg,  Hans  commences 
business,  man-ies,  and  becomes  the  father  of  a  family. 
AVhen  the  Keformatiou  breaks  out  he  turns  a  listening 
ear.  He  cordially  welcomes  the  Holy  Scriptm-e,  ■ivhich 
had  already  endeared  itself  to  him  as  a  poet,  and  he  no 
longer  searches  it  for  images  and  hjTmns,  but  for  the 
light  of  truth.  To  this  truth  he  consecrates  his  lyre. 
From  an  humble  stall  iu  front  of  one  of  the  gates  of  the 
imperial  city  of  Nuremberg,  come  forth  notes  which 
re-echo  over  Germany,  and  everv^vhere  excite  a  deep 
interest  iu  the  great  revolution  which  is  going  forward. 
The  spiritual  songs  of  Hans  Sachs,  and  his  Bible 
turned  into  verse,  greatly  aided  the  work.  Indeed,  it 
would  be  difficult  to  say  which  of  the  two  did  most  for 
it — the  elector  of  Saxony,  vicegerent  of  the  emiiirc,  or 
the  shoemaker  of  Nuremberg. 

Thus,  then,  there  was  something  iu  all  classes  which 


announced  a  Reformation.  On  all  sides  signs  appeared, 
and  events  pressed  forward,  threatening  to  overthrow 
the  work  of  ages  of  darkness,  and  introduce  men  to  a 
period  in  which  "aU  things  were  to  become  new." 
The  hierarchical  form,  which  several  ages  had  been 
employed  in  stamping  upon  the  world,  was  on  the  eve 
of  being  effaced.  The  light  v.liich  had  just  been  dis- 
covered had,  -i^dth  inconceivable  rapidity,  introduced  a 
number  of  new  ideas  into  all  countries,  and  all  classes 
of  society  gave  signs  of  new  life.  "  O  age!"  exclaims 
Hiitten,  "studies  flourish,  and  minds  awake:  mere 
life  is  joy!"  .  .  .  The  human  intellect,  which  had 
been  slumbering  for  so  mauy  generations,  seemed 
desirous,  by  its  activity,  to  redeem  the  time  which  it 
had  lost.  To  have  left  it  in  idleness,  without  nom-ish- 
ment,  or  to  have  given  it  no  better  food  than  that 
which  had  long  maintained  its  languid  existence,  would 
have  been  to  mistake  the  nature  of  man.  The  human 
mind  having  at  length  perceived  what  it  was,  and  what 
it  ought  to  be,  looked  boldly  at  these  two  states,  and 
scanned  the  immense  abyss  which  lay  between  them. 
Great  princes  were  on  the  throne,  the  ancient  colossus 
of  Rome  was  tottering  under  its  own  weight,  and  the 
old  spirit  of  chivalry  was  taken  leave  of  the  earth  to 
make  way  for  a  new  spirit,  which  breathed  at  once 
on  the  sanctuaries  of  knowledge  and  on  the  dwell- 
ings of  the  poor.  The  printed  Word  had  taken 
wing,  and  been  carried,  as  the  wind  does  certain 
seeds,  to  the  most  distant  regions.     The  discovery  of 

the  two  Indies  had  enlarged  the  world 

Everything  anuoiuiced  that  a  great  revolution  v.'as 
at  hand. 

But  whence  will  the  blow  come  which  is  to  strike 
down  the  ancient  edifice,  that  a  new  edifice  may  arise 
out  of  its  ruins?  Nobody  could  say.  Who  had  more 
wisdom  than  Frederick — more  science  than  Reuchlin — 
more  talent  than  Erasmus — more  spirit  and  versatility 
than  Hiitten — more  valoiu-  than  Seckingeu — more 
vu-lue  than  Cronberg?  And  yet,  neither  Frederick, 
nor  Reuchlin,  nor  Erasmus,  nor  Hiitten,  nor  Seckingeu, 

nor   Cronberg Learned  men,   princes, 

warriors,  the  Church  herself,  had  sapped  some  of  the 
foundations ;  but  there  they  had  stopped.  The  power- 
ful hand  which  God  had  designed  to  employ  was 
nowhere  to  be  seen. 

All,  however,  felt  that  it  must  soon  make  its 
appearance,  while  some  even  pretended  to  have  seen 
indications  of  it  in  the  stars.  •  One  class,  seeing  the 
mirerable  slate  of  religion,  predicted  the  near  approach 
of  Antichrist.  Another  class,  on  the  contrai-y,  pre- 
dicted a  siieedy  Reformation.  The  world  was  waiting. 
.     .     .     Luther  appeared. 


LUTHER'S  DESCENT. 


13  0  OK      II. 


YUUTII,   CONVEKSIOX,   AND   FIKST   LAIJULK.S   OF   LUTIIEn — 1183-1517. 


(  IIAITKR  I. 

1    '  M      Utrth -ruverly— Tim  ratcilial  Roiif 

riic  Sclnwl  of  Mngilcbourg— Wretch- 

If— TUe  lluuiio  ofCotU— Tho  .\rlji— 

l;  :  I     SluJics—Treboiiius—'nn)  University. 

AxL  was  ready.  God  takes  ages  to  prepare  His  work ; 
but  when  the  hour  is  come,  acctmiplislies  it  by  the 
fccble.1t  instrumciil---.  T«  do  prrcnt  thiiiprs  by  siuali 
incaiis,  is  the  hiwof  Cm).  This  iaiv.  which  appears  in 
every  department  of  nature,  is  found  also  in  history. 
God  took  the  Reformers  of  the  Cliurch  where  He  liad 
taken  the  A])ostk-!;.  lie  selected  them  from  that 
humble  class  which,  without  containing  the  meanest  of 
the  people,  is  scarcely  the  length  of  cilizen.ship.  Every- 
thing must  manifest  to  the  world  that  the  work  is  not 
of  man,  but  of  God.  The  Reformer  Zwingle  comes 
fortii  from  the  hut  of  a  shepherd  of  the  Alps,  Melanc- 
thon,  the  Theologian  of  the  Reformation,  from  the 
workshop  of  an  armourer,  and  Luther  from  the  cottage 
of  a  i>oor  miner. 

The  tirst  stage  in  a  man's  life — tliat  in  which  he  is 
formed  and  moulded  under  the  hand  of  God — is  always 
important,  and  was  so  especially  in  the  case  of  Luther. 
Tlierc,  even  nt  that  period,  the  whole  Reformation 
existed.  The  different  i)hase3  of  that  great  work 
succeeded  each  other  in  the  soul  of  him  who  was  the 
instrument  of  accomplishing  it,  before  it  was  actually 
nccomplishcd.  The  knowledge  of  the  Reformation 
which  took  pltice  in  Luther's  heart  is  the  oidy  key  to 
the  Reformation  of  the  Church.  "We  must  study  the 
particular  work,  if  we  would  attain  to  a  knowledge  of 
the  general  work.  Those  who  neglect  the  one  will 
never  know  more  than  the  form  and  exterior  of  the 
other.  They  may  acquire  a  knowledge  of  certain 
events  .ind  certain  residts,  but  the  intrinsic  nature  of 
the  revival  they  eaiuiot  know,  because  the  living 
principle  which  formeil  the  soul  of  it  is  hidden  from 
them.  Let  us,  then,  study  the  Reformation  in  Luther, 
before  studying  it  in  events  which  changed  the  face 
of  Christendom. 

In  the  village  of  Mora,  towanb  the  forests  of 
Tiiuringia,  ami  not  far  from  the  spot  where  Boniface, 
the  Apostle  of  Genuany,  began  to  proclaim  the  Gospel, 
there  existed,  and,  undoubtedly,  had  existed  for  ages, 
an  ancient  and  numerous  family  of  the  name  of 
Luther.  The  eldest  son,  jis  usual  with  the  peasantry 
of  Thuringia,  always  succeeded  to  the  house  and  the 
paternal  plot,  while  the  3-otniger  members  of  the  family 
set  out  in  quest  of  a  livelihood.  John  Luther  having 
married  Margaret  Lindemann.  daughter  of  an  inhabi- 
tant of  Neiistadt.  in  the  bishopric  of  Wurzburg,  the 
married  couple  removed  from  the  plains  of  Eisenach, 


and  fixed  their  residence  in  the  little  town  of  Eislebcn, 
in  .Siixony,  in  order  to  gain  their  bread  by  the  sweat 
of  their  brow. 

Scckcudorff  relates,  on  the  testimony  of  Robhan, 
superintendent  of  Eisenach  in  1001,  that  Luther's 
mother,  thinking  she  was  still  far  from  her  time,  had 
gone  to  the  fair  of  Eisleben,  and  there,  unexpectedly 
gave  birth  to  a  son.  Notwithstauding  of  the  credit 
due  to  such  a  man  as  Seckendorff,  this  account  appears 
not  to  be  correct.  In  fact,  none  of  the  older  bio- 
graphers of  Luther  make  any  mention  of  it.  Besides, 
Mora  is  more  than  twenty-four  leagues  distant  from 
Eisleben;  and  persons  in  the  circumstances  in  which 
Luther's  mother  then  was,  seldom  are  disposed  to  take 
such  long  journeys  to  ijn  to  the  /air.  In  fine,  the 
iiccount  seems  quite  at  variance  with  Luther's  own 
statement.' 

John  Luther  was  an  upright, stiaigbtforward, hard- 
working man,  with  a  firmness  of  character  bordering 
on  obstinacy.  Of  a  more  cultivated  mind  than  usiml 
with  persons  of  his  class,  he  was  a  great  reader. 
Books  were  then  rare.  But  he  never  let  pass  any 
opportunity  of  procuruig  them.  They  were  his  relaxa- 
tion in  the  intervals  of  rei)Oso  from  hard  and  long- 
continued  labour.  Margaret  possessed  the  virtues 
which  adorn  honest  and  pious  women.  She  was 
remarked,  in  particular,  for  her  modesty,  her  fear  of 
God,  and  her  spirit  of  prayer.  The  mothers  of  the 
place  regarded  her  as  a  model  whom  they  ought 
to  imitate. 

It  is  not  exactly  known  how  long  this  couple  had 
been  fixed  at  Eisleben,  when,  on  the  lOtli  November, 
an  hour  before  midnight,  Margaret  gave  birtii  to  a  sou. 
Melancthou  often  questioned  the  mother  of  his  friend 
as  to  the  period  of  his  birth.  ••  I  remember  the  day 
and  the  hour  very  well,"  would  she  reply;  '•  but  for  the 
year,  I  am  not  certain  of  it."  Luther's  brother,  James, 
an  honest  and  upright  man,  has  stated  that,  in  the 
opinion  of  all  the  family,  Martin  was  born  in  the  year 
of  Christ  1-183,  on  the  ioth  November,  being  St.  Mar- 
tin's eve.  The  first  thought  of  the  pious  parents  was 
to  take  the  infant  which  God  had  given  them,  and 
dedicate  it  to  God  in  holy  baptism.  On  the  following 
day,  which  happened  to  be  a  Tuesdaj-,  the  father, 
with  gratitude  and  joy,  carried  his  son  to  St.  Peter's 
church,  where  he  received  the  seal  of  his  dedication  to 
the  Lord.  He  was  named  Martin,  in  honour  of  the 
day. 

Young  Martin  was  not  six  months  old  when  his 
parents  quitted  Eisleben  for  Mansfeld.  which  is  only 
live  leagues  distant.     The  mines   of  Mansfeld   were 

1  I  was  iKim  at  Eisleben,  anJ  Inptiied  in  St.  Tcler's  tlicre.  My  parents 
came  tliitlicr  ttma  near  EiscnaciL— Lutli.,  Ep.  i.,  p.  390. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  EEFOEMATION. 


then  much  famed ,  and  John  Luther,  a  labouring  man, 
feeling  that  he  might  perhaps  be  called  to  rear_  a 
numerous  family,  hoped  he  might  there  more  easily 
gain  a  livelihood.  It  was  in  this  town  that  the  intel- 
lect and  powers  of  young  Luther  received  their  first 
development ;  here  his  activity  began  to  be  displayed, 
and  his  disposition  to  be  manifested  by  what  he  said 
and  did.  The  plains  of  Mansfeld,  the  banks  of  the 
Wipper,  were  the  scenes  of  his  first  sports  with  his 
playmates. 

The  commencement  of  their  residence  at  Mansfeld 
was  attended  with  painful  privations  to  honest  John 
and  his  wife,  for  they  lived  some  time  in  gi-eat  poverty. 
"  j\ry  parents,"  says  the  Reformer,  "were  vftry  poor. 


Mr^ 


'^ 


'.mms^^m^' 


MAGDEBOURG. 
My  father  was  a  poor  wood-cutter,  and  my  mother 
often  carried  his  wood  on  her  back  to  procure  subsist- 
ence for  us  children.  The  toil  they  endured  for  us 
was  severe,  even  to  blood."  The  example  of  parents 
whom  he  respected,  and  the  habits  in  which  they 
trained  him,  early  accustomed  Luther  to  exertion  and 
frugality.  Often,  doubtless,  he  accompanied  his  mother 
to  the  wood,  and  made  u[)  his  little  faggot  also. 

Promises  are  given  to  the  just  man's  labour,  and 
John  Luther  experienced  the  reality  of  them.  Having 
become  somewhat  more  easy  in  his  circumstances,  he 
established  two  smelting  furnaces  at  Mansfeld.  Around 
these  furnaces  young  Martin  grew  up;  and  the  retiu-n 
which  they  yielded  enabled  his  father,  at  a  later  period, 
to  provide  for  his  studies.  '■  The  spiritual  founder  of 
Christendom,"  says  worthy  Mathcsius,  "  was  to  come 
forth  from  a  family  of  miners,  an  image  of  what  God 
purposed,  when  He  emplo3-ed  him  to  cleanse  the  sons 
of  Levi,  and  purify  them  in  His  furnaces  like  gold." 
Univei'sally  respected  for  his  integrity,  his  blameless 
life,  and  good  sense.  .Tolm  I,utlipr  was  made  a  counsel- 
lor of  Mansfeld,  {\u-  (':i|iii.-il  of  tlie  county  of  that 
name.  Too  great  -wiclrliclm^s  might  have  weighed 
down  the  spirit  of  tlie  child.  Ixit  the  easy  circumstances 


of  the  paternal  roof  expanded  his  heart,  and  elevated 
his  character. 

John  availed  himself  of  his  new  situation  to  culti- 
vate the  society  which  he  preferred.  He  set  great 
value  on  educated  men,  and  often  invited  the  clergymen 
and  teachers  of  the  place  to  his  table.  His  house  pre- 
sented an  example  of  one  of  those  societies  of  simple 
citizens  which  did  honour  to  Germany  at  the  commence- 
ment of  the  sixteenth  century,  and,  as  a  mirror,  re- 
flected the  numerous  images  which  succeeded  each 
other  on  the  troubled  stage  of  that  time.  It  was  not 
lost  on  the  child.  The  sight  of  men  to  whom  so  much 
respect  was  shewn  in  his  father's  house,  must,  doubt- 
less, on  more  than  one  occasion,  have  awakened,  in 
J  ouug  Martin's  heart,  an  am- 
bit ions  desire  one  day  to  be- 
come a  schoolmaster  or  a  man 
of  learning. 

As  soon  as  he  was  of  an  age 
to  leceive  some  instruction,  his 
jnients  sought  to  give  him  the 
knowledgeaudinspirehim  ^vith 
the  fear  of  God,  and  train  him 
m  Christian  virtues.  Their 
,^^  utmost   care  was   devoted   to 

^K^   ^^J^^^K-       111'' primary  domestic  education. 
«■      SK  i^^^SS^M,\      lli]5^    however,    was   not   the 
solo  object  of  their  tender  so- 
licitude. 

His  father,  desirous  of  sce- 
ma  him  acquire  the  elements 
ot  knowledge,  for  which  he 
himself  had  so  much  esteem, 
ni\oked  the  Divine  blessing  on 
his  head,  and  sent  him  to 
chool.  As  Martin  was  still 
I  ^ery  little  boy,  his  father  or 
Nicolas  Emlor,  a  young  man 
of  Mansfeld,  often  earned  him 
in  their  arms  to  the  house  of 
George  Emilius,  and  went  again  to  fetch  him.  Einler 
afterwards  married  one  of  Luther's  sisters. 

The  piety  of  the  parents,  their  activity  and  strict 
virtue,  gave  a  happy  impulse  to  the  boy,  making  liim 
of  a  grave  and  attentive  spirit.  The  system  of  educa- 
tion which  then  prevailed  employed  fear  and  punish- 
ment as  its  leading  stimulants.  Margaret,  tliough 
sometimes  ajiproving  the  too  strict  discipline  of  her 
husband,  often  opened  her  maternal  arms  to  ISIartin, 
to  console  him  in  his  tears.  She  herself  occasionally 
carried  to  excess  that  precept  of  Divine  ^^^(hiin, 
which  says,  "  He  that  sparcth  the  rod  hateth  his  son." 
The  impetuous  temper  of  the  child  often  led  to  fre- 
quent reproof  and  coiTcction.  "My  parents,"  says 
Luther,  in  after  life,  "  treated  me  harshly,  and  made 
mc  very  timid.  My  mother  one  day  chastised  me 
about  a  filbert  till  the  blood  came.  They  believed 
with  all  their  heart  they  were  doing  right ;  but  they 
could  not  discriminate  between  dispositions,  though 
this  is  necessary,  in  order  to  know  when  and  how 
punishments  should  be  inflicted." 

The  poor  child's  treatment  at  school  was  not  less 
severe.  Hia  master,  one  morning,  beat  him  filtoen 
times  in  succession.     "It  is  necessary,"  said  Luther, 


LUTHER  AT  MAGDEBOURG  AND  EISENACH. 


41 


when  meutionins  the  fact,  "  it  is  necessary  to  chastise 
children ;  but  it  \i  necessary,  iit  the  same  time,  to  love 
them."  With  siK-h  an  cdiinition,  Ltiilier  early  Icarncil 
to  dc.s]>isc  the  nllnrcincnts  of  a  sensual  life.  "  Ho  who 
is  to  bccoMio  frrcat,  nuist  bcfiin  witli  little,"  justly 
remarks  one  of  his  earliest  biographers;  "and  if 
children  are  brought  up  with  loo  much  delicacy  and 
tenderness,  it  does  them  liurni  all  the  rest  of  their  life." 

Martin  learned  something  at  scIkmiI.  Ho  was  taught 
the  heads  of  the  Catechism,  the  Ten  Conimandnioiits, 
U»o  Apostles'  Cived,  the  Lord's  I'rnyer,  hymns,  forms 
of  pntycr,  ami  tho  Uouat.  This  last  was  a  Latin  gram- 
mar, composed  in  the  fourth  century  by  Donatns,  St. 
Jerome's  mik-ter ;  and  having  been  improved  in  the 
eleventh  century  by  u  French  monk,  named  Kemigius, 
was  long  in  high  repute  as  a  school-book.  He,  more- 
over, conned  the  "  Cisco-Janas"  a  very  singular  ahna- 
Dnc,  composc<l  in  the  tenth  or  eleventh  century.  In 
ehorl,  he  learned  idl  that  was  taught  in  the  Latin 
school  of  Mansfi-ld. 

Dnt  the  child  seems  not  to  have  been  brought  to 
God.  Tho  only  religious  sentiment  ■which  could  be 
discovered  in  him,  was  that  of  fear.  AVhencver  he 
heard  Jesus  Christ  mentioned  he  grew  pale  wiili 
terror;  for  the  Saviour  had  been  represented  to  him 
as  an  angry  Judge.  'IMiis  servile  fear,  so  foreign  to 
genuine  religion,  ])erh»ps  predisposed  him  for  the  glad 
tidings  of  the  Gospel,  and  for  the  joy  which  he  after- 
wards experienced  when  he  became  acquainted  with 
llim  who  is  meek  and  Imvly  in  heart. 

John  Luther  longed  to  make  his  son  a  learned  man. 
Tlio  new  light,  which  began  to  radiate  in  all  directions, 
{Msnctrated  even  the  cottage  of  the  miner  of  Mansfeld, 
and  there  awakened  ambitious  thoughts.  The  remark- 
able disposition,  and  pcn-cvering  application  of  his  son, 
inspired  John  w  itii  the  most  brilliant  hopes.  Accord- 
ingly, in  1  ll»7.  when  Martin  had  completed  his  four- 
teenth year,  his  father  resolved  to  part  with  him,  and 
send  him  to  a  schonl  of  the  Franciscans  at  Magdebourg. 
Margaret  behoved,  of  course,  to  consent ;  and  Martin 
prepared  to  (|uil  the  patern.tl  roof. 

Magdebourg  was  like  a  new  world  to  Jlartin.  Amid 
numerous  privations  (for  he  had  scarcely  the  means  of 
subsistence)  he  re.-jd  and  attended  lectures;  Andre' 
Troles,  provincial  of  the  Augustine  Order,  was  then 
preaching  with  great  fervour  on  the  necessity  of  re- 
forming religion  and  the  Church.  He,  however,  was 
not  the  person  who  deposited  in  the  young  man's  soni 
tho  first  genu  of  those  itieas  which  afterwards  ex- 
panded in  it. 

This  period  w.as  a  kind  of  severe  apprenticeship  to 
Luther.  Launched  upon  the  world  at  fourteen,  with- 
out friend  or  patron,  he  trembled  in  presence  of  his 
masters,  ami,  during  the  hours  of  recreation,  i)ainfully 
begged  his  food  with  children  as  poor  as  himself.  '•  I 
and  my  comrades,"  s.iys  he,  "begged  a  little  food  for 
our  subsistence.  One  day,  at  the  sea-soii  when  the 
Church  celebrates  the  birth  of  Jesus  Christ,  we  were 
in  a  hotly  scouring  the  neighbouring  villages,  going 
from  house  to  house,  and,  in  four  p.irts,  singing  the 
ordiuary  hymns  on  the  Babe  of  Bethlehem.  Wc 
stopped  before  a  peasant's  cottage,  which  stood  by  it- 
self at  the  extremity  of  a  village.  The  pe.isant,  hear- 
ing U3  singing  our  Cliristmas  carols,   came  out  with 


some  provisions  which  he  meant  to  give  us,  and  asked, 
in  n  gruff  voice  and  a  harsh  tone,  '  Where  are  you, 
boys?'  His  tones  frightened  us,  and  wc  took  to  our 
heels.  We  had  no  cause  for  fcnr,  for  the  peasant  was 
sincere  in  his  offer  of  assistance;  but  our  hearts  were, 
no  doubt,  made  timid  by  the  menaces  and  tyranny 
with  which  msusters  at  this  period  oppressed  their 
scholars  ;  hence  the  sudden  fright  which  seized  us.  At 
la.s|,  however,  the  peasant  still  continuing  to  call  us, 
we  stopped,  laid  aside  our  fear,  and,  running  up  to 
him,  received  tho  food  which  he  intended  for  us." 
"In  the  same  way,"  adds  Luther,  "arc  wc  wont  to 
tremble  and  (lee  when  our  conscience  is  guilty  and 
alarmed.  Then  we  arc  afraid  even  of  the  assistance 
which  is  offered  to  us,  and  of  those  who  are  friendly  to 
us,  and  would  do  us  all  sorts  of  kindness." 

A  year  had  scarcely  passed,  when  John  and  Mar- 
garet, on  being  made  aware  of  tho  diflicultics  which 
their  son  had  in  living  in  Magdebourg,  sent  him  to 
Eisenach,  where  there  was  a  celebrated  scliool,  and  they 
had  a  lunnber  of  relations.  They  had  other  children; 
and  though  their  circumstances  had  improved,  they 
were  unable  to  maintain  their  son  in  a  strange  town. 
Tho  forges  and  late  hours  of  John  Luther  did  no  more 
than  keep  the  family  at  Mansfeld.  It  was  hoped  that 
Martin  would  find  a  livelihood  more  easily  at  Eisenach; 
but  he  was  not  more  successful.  His  relations  in  the 
town  did  not  trouble  themselves  about  him.  Perhaps 
their  own  poverty  made  them  unable  to  give  him  any 
assistance. 

When  the  scholar  felt  the  gnawings  of  hunger  he 
had  no  resource  but  to  do  as  at  Magdebourg, — to  join 
his  fellow-students,  and  sing  with  them  before  the 
houses  for  a  morsel  of  bread.  This  custom  of  the  time 
of  Luther  has  been  preserved,  even  to  our  day,  in 
several  towns  of  Gtrniany,  where  the  voices  of  the 
boys  sometimes  produce  a  most  harmonious  chant. 
Instead  of  bread,  poor  modest  Martin  often  received 
only  hard  words.  Then,  overcome  with  sadness,  he 
shed  many  tears  in  secret,  unable  to  think  of  the  future 
without  trembling. 

One  day,  in  particular,  he  had  been  rejiulsed  from 
three  houses,  and  was  preparing,  without  having  broken 
his  fast,  to  return  to  his  lodging,  when,  on  arriving 
at  St.  George's  Square,  he  halted,  and,  absorbed  in 
gloomy  thoughts,  stood  motionless  before  the  house  of 
an  honest  burgher. 

Will  it  be  neccssai-y,  from  want  of  bread,  to  give  uji 
study,  and  go  and  work  with  his  father  in  the  mines  of 
Mansfeld  .'  Suddenly  a  door  oi>cns,  and  a  female  is 
seen  on  the  threshold, — it  was  the  wife  of  Conrad 
Cott.a,  the  daughter  of  the  burgomaster  of  Ilefcld. 
Her  name  was  L'rsula.  The  chronicles  of  Eisenach 
c.ill  her  "  the  pious  Shunammite,"'  in  allusion  to  her 
who  so  earnestly  pressed  the  prophet  Elisha  to  cat 
bread  with  her.  Previous  to  this,  the  Christian 
Shunannnite  had  more  than  once  observed  j-oung 
Martin  in  the  assemblies  of  the  faithful,  and  been 
touched  by  the  sweetness  of  his  voice,  and  his  devout 
behaviour.  She  had  just  heard  the  hiirsh  language 
addressed  to  the  poor  scholar,  and  seeing  him  in  sad- 
ness before  her  door,  she  came  to  his  assistance, 
beckoned  him  to  enter,  and  set  food  before  him  to 
appease  his  hunger. 


HISTOEY  OF  THE  EEF0E5IATI0X. 


Coarad  approved  of  the  benevolence  of  his  -wife,  and 
■was  even  so  mucli  pleased  with  the  societv  of  young 
Luther,  that  some  days  after  he  took  him  home  to  his 
house.  From  this  moment  his  studies  were  secure. 
He  will  not  be  obliged  to  return  to  the  mine^  of  3Ians- 
f  eld,  and  bury  the  talent  with  which  God  has  entrusted 
liim.  When  he  no  longer  knew  what  was  to  become 
of  him,  G^od  opened  to  him  the  heart  and  the  home  of 
a  Christian  family.  This  event  helped  to  give  him 
that  confidence  in  Goi  which  in  after  life  the  strongest 
tempests  could  not  shake. 

In  the  house  of  Cotta,  Luther  was  introduced  to  a 
mode  of  life  very  different  from  that  which  he  had 
hitherto  known.  He  there  led  an  easy  existence, 
exempt  from  want  and  care.     His  mind  became  more 

j  serene,  his  disposition  more  lively,  and  his  heart  more 
open.  His  whole  being  expanded  to  the  mild  rays 
of  charity,  and  began  to  beat  with  life,  joy,  and 
happiness.  His  prayers  were  more  ardent,  and  his 
thirst  for  knowledge  more  intense.  He  made  rapid 
progress. 

To  literature  and  science  he  added  the  ch.-irms  of 
art.  Those  who  are  designed  hy  GK)d  to  act  upon  their 
contemporaries  are  themselves,  in  the  first  instance, 
seized  and  carried  along  by  all  the  tendencies  of  their 
age.  Luther  learned  to  play  on  the  flute  and  the  lute. 
The  latter  instrument  he  often  accompanied  with  his 
fine  cotmter  voice,  thtis  enlivening  his  heart  in  mo- 
ments of  sadness.  He  took  pleasmre  also  in  emploving 
his  notes  to  testify  his  gratitude  to  his  adopted  mother, 
who  was  very  fond  of  music.  His  own  love  of  it  con- 
tinued to  old  age ;  and  both  the  words  and  the  music 
of  some  of  the  finest  anthems  which  G«rmany  possesses 
are  his  composition.  Some  have  even  been  translated 
into  our  language. 

Happy  time  for  the  yotmg  man!  Luther  always 
remembered  it  ■with  emotion.  Many  years  after,  a  son 
of  Conrad  halving  come  to  study  at  Wittemberg.  when 
the  poor  scholar  of  Eisenach  had  become  the  doctor  of 
his  age,  he  gladly  received  him  at  his  table,  and  under 
Ids  roof.  He  ■n-ished  to  pay  back  to  the  son  part  of 
what  he  had  received  from  the  parents.  It  was  while 
thinking  of  the  Christian  woman  who  gave  him  food, 
when  all  besides  repulsed  him,  that  he  gave  utterance 
to  this  fine  expression.  "  Earth  has  nothing  gentler 
than  the  female  heart  in  which  piety  dwells.'' 

Luther  was  never  ashamed  of  the  days  when,  pressed 
by  hunger,  he  was  under  the  necessity  of  begging  for 
his  studies  and  his  maintenance.  So  far  from  this,  he, 
on  the  contrary,  reflected  ■with  gratitude  on  the  great 
poverty  of  his  youth.  He  reg:irded  it  as  one  of  the 
means  which  God  had  employed  to  make  liim  what  he 
afterwards  became,  and  he  felt  thankful  for  it.  The 
poor  youths  who  were  obliged  to  foUow  the  same 
course  touched  his  hc-irt :  "  Do  not,"  said  he,  '•  despise 
the  boys  who  sing  before  your  houses,  and  ask  'panem 
propter  Deiim,'  (bread  for  the  love  of  God;)  I  have 
done  it  myself.  It  is  true  that,  at  a  later  period,  my 
father.  ■with  great  love  and  kindness,  kept  mc  at  the 
University  of  Erfurt,  maintaining  me  by  the  sweat  of 

I  his  brow ;  still.  I  once  was  a  poor  beggar.  And  now. 
by  means  of  my  pen.  I  am  come  thus  far.  that  I  would 

I     not  change  situations  with  the  Grand  Turk  himself. 

I     Nay,  more,  were  all  the  goods  of  the  world  piled  up 


one  above  another,  I  would  not  take  them  in  exchange 
for  what  I  have.  And  yet.  I  should  not  be  where  1 
am.  if  I  had  not  been  at  school  and  learned  to  ■write." 
Thus,  in  these  first  humble  beginnings  this  great  man 
traced  the  origin  of  his  fame.  He  fears  not  to  remind 
us  that  that  voice,  whose  accents  made  the  empire 
and  the  world  to  tremble,  had  once  begged  a  morsel  of 
bread  in  the  streets  of  a  poor  city.  The  Christian 
takes  pleasm^  in  such  recollections,  as  reminding  him 
that  it  is  in  God  he  must  glory. 

The  strength  of  his  intellect,  and  the  liveliness  of  his 
imagination,  soon  enabled  him  to  outstrip  all  his  fellow- 
students.  His  progress  was  particularly  rapid  in  ancient 
languages,  eloquence,  and  poetry.  He  TNTOte  essays 
and  made  verses.  Lively,  complaisant,  and  what  is 
called  good-hctrted,  he  was  a  great  favourite  ■with  his 
masters  and  his  comrades. 

Among  the  professors,  he  attached  himself  particu- 
larly to  John  Trebonius,  a  learned  man,  of  pleasing 
m.anners,  who  shewed  youth  those  attentions  which  are 
so  well  fitted  to  encourage  them.  Martin  had  remarked, 
that  when  Trebonius  entered  the  class,  he  took  off  his 
hat,  and  bowed  to  the  students, — great  condescension 
in  those  j^>edantic  times  I  This  had  pleased  the  yotmg 
man,  and  made  him  feel  that  he  was  not  a  mere  cipher. 
The  respect  of  the  master  had  made  the  pupil  rise  in 
his  own  estimation.  The  colleagues  of  Trebonitts.  who 
had  not  the  same  custom  of  taking  off  their  hats,  hav- 
ing one  day  expressed  their  astonishment  at  his  extreme 
condescension,  he  replied,  (and  the  reply  made  no  less 
impression  on  youug  Luther.)  "Among  these  youths 
are  men  whom  God  will  one  day  make  burgomasters, 
chancellors,  doctors,  and  magistrates ;  and  though  you 
do  not  yet  sc-e  them  with  their  badges  of  office,  it  is 
right,  however,  to  shew  them  respect."  Xo  doubt  the 
young  student  listened  ■with  pleasure  to  these  words, 
and  even  then,  perhaps,  saw  himself  with  a  doctor's 
cap  on  his  head. 


CHAPTER  n. 

Scholasticism  and  the  Classics— Lather's  Pietr— DiscoTeir— The  Bible— 
Sickness— Master  of  Arts— Conscience— Death  of  Alens— Ihonderstoim 
— Providence — Adieus— Entrance  into  a  Convent 

LtrrHEE  had  attained  his  eighteenth  year.  He  had 
tasted  the  ple.tsitres  of  literature,  and  biu-ning  with 
e,agemess  to  learn,  he  sighed  after  a  university,  and 
longed  to  repair  to  one  of  those  fountains  of  science, 
at  which  he  might  quench  his  thirst  for  knowledge. 
His  father  ■wished  him  to  study  law,  and  already  saw 
him  filling  an  honourable  station  among  his  feUow- 
citizens,  gaining  the  favour  of  princes,  aud  making  a 
figure  oil  the  theatre  of  the  world.  It  was  resolved 
that  the  young  student  should  repair  to  Erfurt, 

Luther  arrived  at  this  university  in  the  year  1501. 
Jadocus,  sumamed  the  Doctor  of  the  Eisenach,  was  then 
teaching  the  scholastic  philosophy  with  much  success. 
Melancthon  regrets  that  the  only  thing  then  taught  at 
Erfurt  should  have  been  a  dialectics  bristling  with  dif- 
ficulties. He  thinks  that  if  Luther  had  found  other 
professors  there,  if  he  had  been  trained  in  the  milder 


LUTHER  DISCOVERS?  THE  BIBLE. 


43 


Rml  calmer  tlisciplino  of  true  philosophy,  it  might  have 
inn«lrml<>il  lui.l  .-.oftcncil  tlio  vchi-inciico  of  his  uaturc. 

■'  '      ii.ilnr  bopin  to  .-iii<ly  the  philo.<ophy  of  the 

ill  tlio  wriliit^s  of  <>oc;iiii,  ScotUJ,   Iloim- 
1  Tlii>m;i!i  Aiiiiimi".     At  i»  liUtT  pcrioil  he 

;,>ii.:h  ai.«|iiLst  for  nil  this  soholiu'ticl-'in.     The 

.  iimiio  of  Arislotio,  pronoimool  in  his  heiiriii;!, 
!  him  with  imlifrimtion ;  nnd  ho  even  went  the 
:ih  of  "nyiiip,  ihnt  if  Ari-ilotlo  was  not  a  mair,  ho 
would  hiivo  iio  hcsitiitioii  in  taking  him  for  the  ilcvil. 
Bat  his  minil,  in  its  eaj;cnic»s  for  Iciirning,  stoml  in 
need  of  better  noiirishmoiil,  nnd  he  began  to  study  the 
splendid  monuments  of  antii|uily,  the  writings  of  Cicero 
and  Virgil,  and  the  other  Classics.  He  wiu  not  cou- 
tentcti.  like  the  common  run  of  student.*,  with  com- 
mitting the  pHKluctions  of  these  writers  to  mcmor)-. 
Ho  endca»oun'd,  above  all,  to  enter  into  their  thought.^  ; 
to  imbue  himself  with  the  spirit  which  nninuited  tlicm  ; 
to  appropriate  their  wisdom  ;  to  comprehend  the  end 
of  their  writings ;  and  enrich  his  understanding  with 
their  weighty  !>ontiment.<  and  brilliant  images.  He 
often  put  (piotions  to  his  professors,  nn<l  siK)n  out- 
•tripp4^d  his  fellow-students.  Possessed  of  a  retentive 
memory  and  a  fertile  imagination,  whatever  he  read  or 
lii^iinl  remainctl  ever  after  present  to  his  mind,  as  if  he 
'.  actually  .seen  it.  "  So  i>hoiic  Luther  in  his  youth, 
whole  university,"  says  Mclancthon,  "adioircd  his 
ins." 
But  even  at  that  period  this  young  man  of  eighteen 
did  not  confine  his  labours  to  the  cultivation  of  his 
intellect,  lie  had  that  serious  thought,  that  uplifted 
heart,  which  tlod  l>cstows  on  tho.>e  whom  He  destines 
to  be  His  mnst  faithftd  servants.  Luther  felt  that  he 
WB9  dependent  on  God — a  simple,  yet  [lowcrful  con- 
viction,— the  source  at  once  of  jirofound  luunilily  and 
gnait  achievements.  He  fenently  invoked  the  Divine 
blessing  on  his  labours.  K.ach  moniing  he  began  the 
day  with  pniyer,  then  he  went  to  church,  and  on  his 
reliim  set  to  study,  hning  not  a  moment  during  the 
course  of  the  d.iy.  "To  pray  well,"  he  was  wont  to 
•ay,  "is  more  than  the  half  of  my  study." 

Everj-  niiinirnt  which  the  young  student  coiUd  spare 
from  his  academical  I.-»l)ours.  was  spent  in  the  librarj- 
I'f  llv  i;:ilv.  r  iiv.  Books  were  still  rare,  and  he  felt 
■  to  be  able  to  .ivail  himself  of  the 
ill  this  vast  collection.  One  day  (he 
■  cars  at  Erfurt,  and  wsvs  twenty  years 
of  .1-.  )  li.-  ..;..  !M  several  liooks  of  the  librarj-.  one  after 
the  other,  to  sec  who  their  authors  were.  One  of  the 
Tolnmes  which  he  opened  in  its  turn  nllracts  his 
attention.  He  h.is  never  before  seen  one  like  it.  He 
rends  the  title,  .  .  .  it  is  a  Bible  I  a  nire  book,  at 
that  time  unknown.  His  interest  is  strongly  excited; 
ho  is  perfectly  astonished  to  find  in  this  volume  any- 
thing more  than  those  fr.iginent-  of  gospel?  and  epistles 
which  the  Church  has  selected  to  be  read  publicly  in 
the  churches  every  Sabbath  day.  Hitherto  ho  had 
believed  that  these  fonncd  the  whole  Word  of  God. 
But  here  are  so  many  i^ajres.  chapters,  and  books,  of 
which  he  had  no  ideal  His  he.irt  beats  as  he  holds  in 
his  h.ond  all  this  divinely-inspired  Scripture,  nnd  he 
turns  over  all  these  divine  leaves  with  feelings  which 
cannot  be  described.  The  first  page  on  which  he 
fixes  his  attention  tells  him  the  history  of  Hannah  nnd 


young  Samuel.  Ho  rcails,  and  his  soul  is  filled  with 
joy  to  overllowiiig.  The  cliiM  whom  his  parents  lend 
ti>  Jehovah  for  all  the  days  of  his  life;  the  s«ing  of 
Hannah,  in  which  she  declares  that  tho  Lord  lifts  up 
the  |»>or  fn>m  tho  dust,  and  the  needy  from  the  dung- 
hill, that  Ho  may  set  him  with  princes;  young  Samuel 
growing  up  in  tho  prcscnco  of  tlie  Ixird;  the  whole  of 
this  history,  tho  whole  of  the  volume  which  ho  has 
discovered,'  make  him  feel  in  a  way  he  has  never  done 
before.  He  returns  home,  his  heart  full.  "Ohl" 
thinks  he,  "  would  it  please  God  one  day  to  give  mo 
such  a  b<K>k  for  my  own  I"  I^iither  as  yet  did  not 
know  either  Greek  or  Hebrew;  for  it  is  not  probable 
that  ho  studie<l  these  languages  during  the  first  two  or 
three  years  of  his  residence  at  tho  university.  The 
Bible  which  had  so  overjoyed  him  w:is  in  Latin.  Soon 
returning  to  his  treasure  in  the  libniry,  he  reads  and 
re-reads,  nnd  in  his  n-stonishment  and  joy  returns  to 
read  again.  The  first  rays  of  a  new  truth  were  then 
dawning  upon  him. 

In  this  way  God  luis  put  him  in  jiossession  of  His 
Word.  He  ha-s  discovered  the  book  of  which  he  is 
one  day  to  give  his  countrnnen  that  admirable  trans- 
lation in  which  Germany  has  now  for  three  centuries 
perused  the  oniclca  of  God.  It  was  pcrhajis  the  first 
time  that  any  han<l  had  taken  do\m  this  prccioas 
volume  from  the  place  which  it  occupied  in  the  library 
of  Erfurt.  This  book,  lying  on  the  unknown  shelves 
of  an  cdiscure  chamber,  is  to  become  the  book  of  life 
to  a  whole  people.  The  Reformation  was  hid  in  that 
Bible. 

This  happened  the  same  ye.-u-  that  Luther  obtained 
his  first  academical  degree,  viz.,  that  of  Bachelor.  The 
excessive  fatigue  which  he  had  undergone  in  preparing 
for  his  trials  brought  on  a  dangerous  illness.  Death 
seemed  to  be  approaching,  and  solemn  thoughts  occu- 
pied his  mind.  He  boliCTcd  that  his  cirtlily  course 
was  about  to  terminate.  There  was  a  general  lamen- 
t.ition  for  the  young  man.  AVliat  a  ])ify  to  sec  so  many 
hopes  so  soon  extinguished  I  Several  friends  came  to 
visit  him  in  his  sickness;  among  others  a  priest,  a 
venerable  old  man,  who  had  with  interest  followed  tho 
student  of  JIansfeld  in  his  labours  and  ac.idcmic  life. 
Luther  w:is  unable  to  conceal  the  thought  which 
agitated  him.  "  Soon,"  said  he,  "  I  will  be  called  away 
from  this  world."  But  the  old  man  kindly  reidied, 
"My  dc:ir  bachelor,  take  courage;  you  will  not  die  of 
this  illness.  Our  God  will  yet  m.ikc  you  a  man,  who, 
in  his  tuni,  will  console  many  other  men.  For  God 
lays  His  cross  on  him  whom  He  loves,  anil  those  who 
bear  it  jiatiently  acquire  much  wisdom."  These  wonls 
made  a  deep  iiiii>ression  on  the  sick  youth.  When  so 
noiir  death  he  hears  the  lips  of  a  priest  reminding  him 
that  God,  as  Saniuors  mother  had  said,  lifts  up  the 
miserable.  The  old  man  h.-us  poured  sweet  consolation 
into  his  heart  nnd  revived  his  spirits;  he  will  never 
forget  him.  "This  wa.s  the  fir*f  prediction  the  Doctor 
heanl."  says  M.ithe,<ius,  Luther's  friend,  who  relates 
the  fact;  "and  he  often  mentioned  it."  It  is  easy  to 
undiTstand  what  JIathesius  means  by  calling  it  a 
prediction. 

When  Luther  recovered,  something  within  him  had 
undergone  a  change.  The  Bible,  his  illness,  and  the 
words  of  the  old  priest,  seemed  to  have  made  a  new 


44 


HISTORY  OF  THE  EEFOEMATION. 


appeal  to  Lira.  As  yet,  however,  there  was  nothing 
decided  in  his  mind.  He  continued  his  studies,  and,  in 
1505,  took  his  degi-ee  of  Master  of  Arts,  or  Doctor  in 
Philosophy.  The  University  of  Erfurt  was  then  the 
most  celebrated  in  Germany, — the  others,  in  com- 
parison Vi'ith  it,  being  only  inferior  schools.  The  cere- 
mony was,  as  usual,  performed  with  great  pomp.  A 
procession  with  torches  came  to  do  homage  to  Luther. 
The  fete  was  superb,  and  all  was  joy.  Luther, 
encouraged,  perhaps,  by  these  honours,  was  disposed 
to  devote  himself  entirely  to  law,  agreeably  to  his 
father's  wish. 

But  God  willed  otherwise.  "Wliile  Luther  was  occu- 
pied with  other  studies,  while  ho  began  to  teach  the 
physics  and  ethics  of  Aristotle,  and  other  branches  of 
philosophy,  liis  heart  ceased  not  to  cry  to  him  that 
piety  was  the  one  thing  needful,  and  that  he  ought, 
above  all,  to  make  sure  of  his  salvation.  He  was  aware 
of  the  displeasure  which  God  testifies  against  sin  ;    ho 


.^  ^^y^^^^^t^ 


NiSE.: 


remembered  the  punishments  which  He  denounces 
agaiust  the  sinner;  and  he  asked  himself  in  fear, 
whether  he  was  sure  of  possessing  the  Divine  favour? 
His  conscience  answered  No!  His  character  was 
prompt  and  decided;  he  resolved  to  do  all  that  might 
be  necessary  to  give  him  a  sure  hope  of  immortality. 
Two  events,  which  liappcned  in  succession,  shook  his 
soul,  and  precipitated  his  determination. 

Among  his  friends  at  the  university,  was  one  named 
Alexis,  with  whom  he  was  very  intimate.  One  morn- 
ing it  was  rumoiu-ed  in  Erfurt  that  Alexis  had  been 
assassinated.  Deeply  moved  at  the  sudden  loss  of  his 
friend,  he  puts  the  question  to  himself.  What  would 
become  of  me  were  I  called  thus  suddenly?  The 
question  fills  liim  with  the  greatest  dismay. 

This  was  in  the  summer  of  1505.  Luther,  left  at 
liberty  by  the  ordinary  recess  of  the  university,  resolved 
on  a  journey  to  Mansfeld,  to  revisit  the  loved  abodes 
of  his  infancy,  and  embrace  his  parents.     Perhaps  he 


also  wished  to  open  his  heart  to  his  father,  and  soimd 
him  as  to  the  design  which  was  beginning  to  form  in 
his  mind,  and  obtain  a  consent  to  his  embracing 
another  calling.  He  foresaw  all  the  difficulties  which 
awaited  him.  The  indolent  habits  of  the  majority  of 
priests  displeased  the  active  miner  of  Mansfeld.  Be- 
sides, ecclesiastics  were  little  esteemed  in  the  world; 
most  of  them  had  but  scanty  incomes ;  and  the  father, 
who  had  made  many  sacrifices  to  maintain  his  son  at 
the  university,  and  who  saw  him,  at  twenty,  a  public 
teacher  in  a  celebrated  school,  was  not  disposed  to 
renounce  the  hopes  which  his  pride  was  cherishing. 

"We  know  not  what  passed  during  Luther's  visit  at 

Mansfeld.      Perhaps  the  decided  wish  of  his  father 

made  liim  afraid  to  open  his  heart  to  him.     He  again 

quitted  the  paternal  roof  to  go  and  take  his  seat  on 

the  benches  of  the  university,  and  had  reached  within 

a  short  distance  of  Erfurt,  when  he  was  overtaken  by    | 

one  of  those  violent  storms  which  are  not  unfrequent 

among  these  mountains.     The 

thunder    bursts,    and    strikes 

close    by    his    side.      Luther 

throws  himself  on  his  knees. 

It  may  be  his  hour  is  come, —    i 

' T^^Er^'-    death,  judgment,  and  eternity, 

surround  him  with    all   their 

1  errors,  and  speak  to  him  with    ' 

a  voice  which  he  can  no  longer 

resist.    "  AVrapt  in  agony,  and    ; 

in  the  terror  of  death,"  as  he 

himself  describes  it,  he  makes 

a  vow,  if  he  is  delivered  from 

tliis    danger,   to   abandon    the 

world,  and  give   himself   en-    j 

tirelyto  God.     After  he  had    I 

risen   from   the   ground,    still 

'  ontinuing  to   see  that  death 

^^  hich  must  one  day  overtake 

him,     ho     examines     himself 

seriously,   and    asks   what  he 

ought   to    do.     The    thoughts 

which   formerly  agitated  him 

;- __      _    ■       '    return  with  full  force.    He  has 

'"-    . --—     -^i-"'-    ^-  ■     endeavoured,  it  is  true,  to  ful- 
fil all  Iiis  duties.     But  in  what 
state  is  his  soul?     Can  lie  appear  with  a  polluted  heart     ! 
before  the  tribunal  of  a  God  so  greatly  to  be  feared?     I 
He  must  become  holy,  and,  accordingly,  he  now  thirsts     ; 
for  holiness  as  he  had  thu-sted  for  science.     But  where 
is  it  to   be  found  ?      How  shall  lie  acquire  it  ?     The 
university  has  furnished  him  with  the  means  of  satis- 
fying his  desire  of  knowledge,     ■\^^lo  wUl  extinguish 
the  agon)-,  the  flame  which  is   consuming  him?     To 
what  school  of  holiness  must  he  bend  his  steps?     He 
will  go  into  a  cloister;   the  monastic  life  will  save  him. 
How  often  has  he  heard  tell  of  its  power  to  transform    j 
a  licart.  to  sanctify  a  sinner,  to  make  a  man  perfect !    j 
He  will  enter  a  monastic  order.     He  will  then  become 
holy,  and  in  that  way  secure  eternal  life. 

Such  was  the  event  which  changed  the  calling  and 
all  the  destinies  of  Luther.  Wo  here  recognise  the 
finger  of  God.  It  was  His  mighty  hand  wliicli  threw 
down  on  the  high  road  this  young  Master  of  Arts,  this 
candidate  for  the  bar,  this  future  lawyer,  in  order  to 


'^m:^  iie^-"' _'ij^, 


LUTHER  KNTERS  A  CONVENT. 


give  an  entirely  new  tUrcotion  to  his  life.  Rubinniis, 
one  of  Lulliur'rt  friends,  wrote  to  liini  at  n  later  period, 
— "  Divine  Providence  had  a  view  to  what  you  were 
one  day  to  become,  when,  as  you  wore  returning  from 
your  parents,  the  lire  of  heaven  made  you  fail  to  the 
ground  like  antither  Paid,  near  the  town  of  Erfint. 
and,  carrying  yon  off  from  onr  society,  threw  you  into 
the  OrtU'r  of  Ansustinc"  Analogous  circumstances 
thus  signalized  the  conversion  of  Paul  and  Luther,  the 
two  gieatest  inslruments  which  Divine  Providence  has 
cniplovcd  in  the  two  greatest  revolutions  which  have 
taken  place  upon  the  earth.' 

Luther  again  enters  Krfurt.  His  resolution  is  im- 
nioveahle,  and  yet  it  is  not  without  .1  pang  he  is  going 
to  break  ties  which  are  dear  to  him.  lie  gives  no  hint 
to  any  one  of  his  intentions.  But  one  evening  he  in- 
vites his  friends  in  the  university  to  a  cheerful  and 
frugal  re|Mi3t.  Music  onco  more  enlivens  their  social 
intercourse.  It  is  Luther's  adieu  to  the  world.  Hence- 
forth, instead  of  those  loved  companions  of  pleasure 
and  toil — monks  ;  instead  of  those  cheerful  and  intel- 
lectual conversations — the  silence  of  the  cloister;  in- 
stead of  that  enchanting  music — the  grave  notes  of  the 
tranquil  chapel,  tiod  demands  it, — all  must  be  sacri- 
ficed. Yet,  for  this  last  time,  once  more  the  joys  of 
youth.  His  friends  are  full  of  glee.  Luther  even 
leads  them  on.  But  at  the  moment  when  they  are 
abandoning  themselves  to  mirth  and  frolic,  the  young 
man  bceomej  unable  any  longer  to  restrain  the  serious 
thoughts  which  occupy  Ills  heart.  He  speaks.  .  .  . 
Ho  makes  known  his  intention  to  his  astonished  friends, 
who  endeavour,  but  in  vain,  to  combat  it.  That  same 
night,  Luther,  afraid  perhaps  of  importunate  solicita- 
tion, c|uits  his  lodgings,  leaving  behind  him  nil  his 
effects  and  all  his  books,  with  the  exception  of  Virgil 
and  Plantus,  (as  yet  he  had  no  Bible.)  Virgil  and 
PInutus! — epic  and  comedy  I — singular  representation 
of  Luther's  mind.  In  fact,  there  was  in  him  a  whole 
epic,  a  beautiful,  splendid,  and  sublime  poem ;  but  be- 
ing naturally  inclined  to  gaiety,  pleasantry,  and  broad 
humour,  he  mingled  more  than  one  familiar  trait  with 
the  solemn  and  magnilicent  groundwork  of  his  life. 

Furnished  with  these  two  books  he  proceeds  alone, 
in  the  dark,  to  the  convent  of  the  Eremites  of  St. 
Augustine,  an<l  asks  to  be  received.  The  door  opens 
ami  closes,  and  ho  is  sepju-ated  for  ever  from  his 
parents,  his  fellow-students,  and  the  world.  This 
took  place  on  the  17th  August.  1505,  when  Luther's 
age  was  twenty-one  years  and  nine  months. 


ClIAI'TLU  111 

iiicnU— The  Bag  nnd  tho 

^  :m — Gcraon— Tlio  Bible — 

.  —  AgoDj* — Luther  during 

At  length  he  was  with  God.     His  soul  was  in  safety. 
This  holiness,  so  earnestly  longed  for,  he  was  now  to 

>  Some  biogni|ihcrs  My  that  Alexis  vas  killed  by  Uio  thunder-clap  which 
tcTriHeU  Luther;  but  two  of  hia  contemporariea— Jlathesiua,  (p.  4,)  and 
Selneccer,  (in  Onit  de  Luth.)— distinguish  between  Uie  two  ercnU ;  and  wo 
might  even  corroborate  their  teaUmony  by  that  of  Mebncthon,  who  says, 
"  Ills  companion  being  killed  by  on  accident,  I  know  not  what" 


find.  At  tho  sight  of  this  young  doctor,  the  monks 
were  all  admiration,  and  extolled  him  for  his  courage 
and  contempt  of  the  world.  Luther,  meanwhile,  did 
not  forget  his  friends.  lie  wrote  to  take  leave  of 
them  and  the  world,  and  the  next  day  despatched  these 
letters,  with  the  clothes  he  had  hitherto  worn,  and  his 
diploma  of  Master  of  Arts,  which  he  ivlurncd  to  the 
university,  that  nothing  might  in  future  remind  him  of 
the  world  which  he  had  nbaudoiicd. 

His  friends  at  Erfurt  were  thunderstruck.  Must  so 
distinguished  a  genius  go  and  hide  himself  in  this 
monastic  life — more  properly,  a  kind  of  death  ?  In 
dec|)  sorrow  they  hastened  to  the  convent,  in  tho  hojjc 
of  inducing  Luther  to  retrace  the  distressing  step  which 
he  had  taken  ;  but  all  was  useless.  The  gates  were 
closed,  and  a  month  ])assed  before  any  one  was  per- 
mitted to  see  or  speak  to  the  new  monk. 

Luther  had  hastened  to  acquaint  his  parents  with 
the  great  change  which  had  just  occurred  in  his  life. 
His  father  was  thunderstruck.  He  trembled  for  his 
son, — so  Luther  himself  informs  us  in  his  book  on 
"  Mon.tslic  Vows,"  which  he  dedicated  to  his  father. 
His  weakness,  his  youth,  the  ardour  of  his  passions, 
everything,  in  short,  made  him  fear  that,  .tfter  the  first 
moment  of  enthusiasm,  the  indolence  of  the  cloister 
would  make  the  youth  fall  either  into  desjjair,  or  into 
grievous  faults,  lie  knew  that  tliis  mode  of  life  had 
lirovcd  fatal  to  many.  Besides,  tiic  councillor-miner 
of  Mansfeld  had  other  views  for  his  son.  He  was 
proi>osing  a  rich  and  honourable  marriage  for  him — 
and,  lo!  all  his  ambitious  imijects  are,  in  one  night, 
overthrown  by  this  imprudent  action. 

John  wrote  his  son  a  very  angry  letter,  in  which,  as 
Luther  himself  tells  us,  ho  Ihoii'd  him,  whereas  he  had 
you'd  him  e\cr  since  he  had  taken  his  degree  of  Jlastcr 
of  Arts.  He  withdrew  all  his  fa\our  from  him,  and 
declared  him  disinherited  of  a  father's  affection.  In 
vain  did  the  friends  of  John  Luther,  and,  doubtless, 
his  wife  also,  endeavour  to  mollify  him ;  in  vain  did 
they  say  to  him,  ''  If  you  are  willing  to  make  some 
sacrifice  to  God,  let  it  bo  the  best  and  dearest  thing 
that  you  have — ^j-onr  sou — your  Isaac."  The  inexor- 
able councillor  of  Mansfeld  would  hear  nothing. 

Some  time  after,  (the  statement  is  given  by  Luther 
in  a  sermon  which  he  preached  at  Wittemberg,  20th 
January,  1544.)  the  plague  broke  out,  and  deprived 
John  Luther  of  two  of  his  sons.  On  the  back  of  these 
bereavements,  while  the  father's  heart  was  torn  with 
pnnef,  some  one  came  and  told  him,  '•  The  monk  of 
Erfurt  also  is  dead  !"  ,  His  friends  took  advantage  of 
the  circumstance  to  bring  back  the  father's  heart  to 
the  novice.  '•  If  it  is  a  false  alarm."  said  the}-,  '•  at 
least  sanctify  your  aflliction  by  consenting  sincerely  to 
j-our  son's  being  a  monk."  '•  \Vell,  well !"  replied  John 
Luther,  his  heart  broken,  and  still  half  rebellious; 
'•  and  God  grant  him  .ill  success."  At  a  later  period, 
when  Luther,  who  had  been  reconciled  to  his  father, 
told  him  of  the  event  which  had  led  him  to  rush  into 
monastic  orders, — "God  grant,"  replied  the  honest 
miner,  "  that  what  you  took  for  a  sign  from  heaven 
may  not  have  been  only  a  phantom  of  the  devil !" 

At  this  time  Luther  was  not  in  possession  of  that 
which  was  afterwards  to  make  him  the  Reformer  of 
the  Church.     His  entrance  into  the  convent  proves  this. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


It  was  an  action  done  in  the  spirit  of  an  age  out  of 
which  he  was  soon  to  be  instrumental  in  raising  the 
Church.  Though  destined  to  become  the  teacher  of 
the  workl,  he  was  still  its  servile  imitator.  A  new 
stone  was  placed  on  the  edifice  of  superstition  by  the 
very  hand  which  was  soon  to  overturn  it.  Luther  was 
seeking  salvation  in  himself,  in  human  practices  and 
observances,  not  knowing  tliat  salvation  is  wholly  of 
God.  He  was  seeking  his  own  righteousness  and  his 
own  glory,  and  overlooking  the  righteousness  and  glory 
of  the  Lord.  But  what  he  as  yet  knew  not,  he  soon 
afterwards  learned.  That  immense  change  which  sub- 
stituted God  and  His  wisdom  in  his  heart  for  the  world 
and  its  traditions,  and  whicli  prejiared  the  mighty  re- 
volution of  which  he  was  the  most  illustrious  instru- 
ment, took  place  in  the  cloister  of  Erfm't. 

Martin  Luther,  on  entering  the  convent,  changed  his 
name  to  that  of  Augustine. 

The  monks  had  received  him  with  joy.  It  was  no 
small  satisfaction  to  their  self-love  to  see  the  university 
abandoned  for  a  house  of  their  order,  and  that  by  one 
of  the  most  distinguished  teachers.  Nevertheless,  they 
treated  him  harshly,  and  assigned  him  the  meanest 
tasks.  They  wished  to  humble  the  doctor  of  philo- 
sophy, and  teach  him  that  his  science  did  not  raise  Irm 
above  his  brethren.  They  thought,  moreover,  they 
would  thus  prevent  him  from  spending  his  time  in 
studies  from  wliicli  the  convent  could  not  reap  any 
advantage.  The  ci-devunt  Jlaster  of  Arts  behoved  to 
perform  the  functions  of  watchman,  to  open  and  shut  the 
gates,  wind  up  the  clocks,  sweep  the  church,  and  clean 
up  the  rooms.  Then,  when  the  poor  monk,  who  was 
at  once  porter,  sacristan,  and  household  servant  to  the 
cloister,  had  finished  his  task,  "  Cum  sacco  per  eivita- 
tem" — ''To  the  town  with  the  bag," — exclaimed  the 
friars ;  and  then,  with  his  bread-bag  on  his  shoidders, 
he  walked  up  and  down  over  all  the  streets  of  Erfurt, 
begging  from  house  to  house,  obliged,  perhaps,  to  pre- 
sent himself  at  the  doors  of  those  who  had  been  his 
friends  or  inferiors.  On  his  return,  he  had  either  to 
shut  himself  up  in  a  low  narrow  cell,  looking  out  on  a 
plot  only  a  few  yards  in  extent,  or  to  resume  his  menial 
ofRces.  But  he  submitted  to  all.  Disposed  by  tem- 
perament to  give  himself  entirely  to  whatever  he  under- 
took, when  he  turned  monk  he  did  it  with  his  whole 
soul.  How,  moreover,  could  he  think  of  sparing  his 
body,  or  of  having  regard  to  what  might  satisfy  the 
flesh  ?  That  was  not  the  way  to  acquire  the  humility 
and  Iioliness  in  quest  of  which  he  had  come  within  the 
walls  of  the  cloister. 

The  ijoor  monk,  worn  out  with  fatigue,  was  eager  to 
seize  any  moment  which  he  could  steal  from  his  servile 
occupations,  and  devote  it  to  the  acquisition  of  know- 
ledge. Gladly  did  he  retire  into  a  corner,  and  give 
himself  up  to  his  beloved  studies.  But  the  friars  soon 
found  him  out,  gathered  around  him,  grumbled  at  him, 
and  pushed  him  away  to  his  labours,  saying,  "  Along ! 
along !  it  is  not  by  studying,  but  by  begging  bread, 
corn,  eggs,  fish,  flesh,  and  money,  that  a  friar  makes 
himself  useful  to  his  convent."  Luther  submitted, 
laid  aside  his  books,  and  again  took  up  his  bag.  Far 
from  repenting  of  liaving  subjected  himself  to  such  a 
yoke,  his  wish  was  to  bring  it  to  a  successful  result. 
At  this  period,  the  inflexible  perseverance  with  which 


he  ever  after  followed  out  the  resolutions  which  he  had 
once  formed,  began  to  be  developed.  The  resistance 
which  he  made  to  rude  assaidts  gave  strong  energy  to 
his  will.  God  exercised  him  in  small  things,  that  he 
might  be  able  to  stand  firm  in  great  things.  Besides, 
in  preparing  to  deliver  his  age  from  the  miserable 
superstitions  under  which  it  groaned,  it  was  necessary 
that  he  should  feel  the  weight  of  them.  In  order  to 
empty  the  cup,  he  behoved  to  drink  it  to  the  dregs. 

This  severe  a])prenticeship,  however,  did  not  last  so 
long  as  Luther  might  have  feared.  The  prior  of  the 
convent,  on  the  intercession  of  the  university  of  which 
Luther  was  a  member,  relieved  him  from  the  mean 
functions  which  had  been  imposed  on  him,  and  the 
young  monk  resumed  his  studies  with  new  zeal.  The 
writings  of  the  Fathers,  particularly  those  of  Augustine, 
engaged  his  attention ;  the  commentary  of  this  illus- 
trious doctor  on  the  Psalms,  and  his  treatise  "  On 
the  Letter  and  the  Spirit,"  being  his  special  favourites. 
Nothing  struck  him  more  than  the  sentiments  of  this 
Father  on  the  corruption  of  the  human  \vill,  and  on 
Divine  grace.  His  own  experience  convincing  him  of 
the  reality  of  this  corruption,  and  the  necessity  of  this 
grace,  the  words  of  Augustine  found  a  ready  response 
in  his  heart;  and  could  he  have  been  of  any  other 
school  than  tliat  of  Jesus  Clu-ist,  it  had  doubtless  been 
the  school  of  the  doctor  of  Hippo.  The  works  of  Peter 
d'Ailly  and  Gabriel  Biel  lie  almost  know  by  heart,  lie 
was  struck  with  a  remark  of  the  former — that  had  not 
the  Church  decided  otherwise,  it  woidd  have  been 
much  better  to  admit,  that  in  the  Lord's  Supper  bread 
and  wine  are  truly  received,  and  not  mere  accidents. 

He  likewise  carefully  studied  the  theologians,  Occam 
and  Gerson,  who  both  expressed  themselves  so  freely 
on  the  authority  of  tlie  popes.  To  tlys  reading  he 
joined  other  exercises.  In  public  discussions  he  was 
heard  unravelling  the  most  complicated  reasonings,  and 
winding  his  way  through  labjTinths  where  others  could 
find  no  outlet.  All  who  heard  him  were  filled  with 
admiration. 

But  he  had  entered  the  cloister,  not  to  acquire  the 
reputation  of  a  great  genius,  but  in  quest  of  tlie  food 
of  piety.  These  labours  he  accordingly  regarded  as 
supernumerary. 

But  the  thing  in  which  he  delighted  .above  all  otiiers 
was  to  draw  wisdom  at  the  pure  fountain  of  the  Word 
of  God.  In  the  convent  he  found  a  Bible  fastened  to 
a  chain,  and  wa.s  ever  returning  to  this  chained  Bible. 
He  had  a  very  imp(  1  f' rt  cnnipreliension  of  the  AVord; 
but  still  it  was  his  III  -I  pi.  ,[.:int  reading.  Sometimes 
he  spent  a  whole  day  in  mcclitatingou  a  single  passage; 
at  other  times  he  learned  passages  of  the  prophets  by 
heart.  His  great  desire  was,  that  the  writings  of  the 
apostles  and  prophets  might  help  to  give  him  a  know- 
ledge of  the  will  of  God,  increase  the  fear  which  he 
had  for  His  name,  and  nourish  his  faith  by  the  sure 
testimony  of  the  Word. 

Apparently  at  this  period  he  began  to  study  the 
Scrii)tures  in  the  original  tongues,  and  tliercby  lay  the 
foundation  of  the  most  perfect  anil  the  most  useful  of 
his  labours,  the  translation  of  the  Bible.  lie  used  a 
Hebrew  Lexicon  which  Eeuchlin  had  just  published. 
His  first  guide  was  probably  John  Lange,  a  friar  of  the 
convent,  versed  in  Greek  and  Hebrew,  and  with  whom 


LUTHER'S  AGONY  DURING  MASS. 


47 


ho  aIw«>-8  inniiituined  a  close  intiinacy.  He  nlso  inmle 
grciit  use  of  ilio  loiiriieil  oummeiitiiries  of  Nicolas  Lyra, 
•who  dioil  ill  lOlO,  aii.l  homo  the  »ayiIl^'  of  I'Hii-r, 
nfurwanis  bishop  of  Naiiinhourfr,  "Hail  not  Lyra 
phiyoil  the  lyro,  Luthor  had  never  danced" — ".Si  Li/iu 
tioii  li/nissel,  Liillienia  iion  sitluisset." 

The  yoinig  monk  .sliidiod  so  closely  and  ardently, 
that  ho  often  omitted  to  say  his  Hours  during  two  or 
three  weeks.  Then,  becoming  alarmed  at  the  thouirht 
of  lianii'i  transfjressed  the  riiks  of  his  order,  he  shut 
himself  ui>  to  make  amends  for  his  nei^li^'once,  ami 
commenced  conscientiously  ropeatin;;  all  the  oniilled 
Hours,  without  thinking  of  meat  or  drink.  On  one 
occasion  his  sleep  went  from  him  for  seven  weeks. 

Earneslly  iiilent  on  aoipiirinp;  the  holiness  in  quest 
of  which  he  had  entered  the  cloister,  Luther  addicted 
himself  to  the  ascetic  life  in  its  fullest  rigour,  seeking 
to  crucify  the  llesh  by  fastings,  macerations,  and  vigils. 
Shut  up  in  his  cell  as  in  a  prison,  he  struggled  without 
iutcnnission  against  the  evil  thoughts  and  evil  propen- 
Bilics  of  his  heart.  A  little  bread  and  a  herring  were 
oftoi:  all  his  fiHxl.  Indeed,  he  was  naturally  very  tem- 
pcnitc.  Oftoii,  when  he  had  no  thought  of  purchasing 
heaven  by  abstinence,  have  his  friends  seen  him  con- 
tent himself  with  the  coarsest  provisions,  and  even 
remain  four  days  in  succession  without  eating  or  drink- 
ing. AVc  have  this  ou  the  testimony  of  a  very  credible 
witness,  Melanclhon ;  and  we  may  judge  from  it  what 
opinion  to  form  of  the  fables  which  ignorance  and  i>rc- 
judico  have  circulated  concerning  Luther's  intemper- 
uuce.  At  the  jieriod  of  which  we  treat,  there  is  no 
siicrilice  he  wouhl  have  declined  to  make,  in  order  to 
I  become  holy  ami  imrchasc  heaven.  'When  Luther, 
after  he  had  become  reformer,  says  that  heaven  is  not 
purchased,  he  well  knew  what  he  meant.  '-Truly," 
wrote  he  to  George.  Duke  of  Saxony, — "  truly.  I  was  a 
pious  monk,  and  followed  the  rules  of  my  order  more 
strictly  than  I  can  tell.  If  ever  monk  had  got  to 
hcflvcn  by  monkery,  I  had  been  that  monk.  In  this 
all  the  monks  of  my  actpiaiiitance  will  bear  me  witness. 
Had  the  thing  continued  much  longer,  I  h.td  become  a 
martyr  unto  dcalli,  through  vigils,  pr.iyer,  reading, 
and  other  labours." 

We  are  touching  on  the  period  which  made  Luther 
a  new  man,  and  which,  revealing  to  him  the  immensity 
of  the  Divine  love,  fitted  him  for  proclaiming  it  to  the 
■world. 

The  peace  which  Luther  had  come  in  search  of  he 
found  neither  in  the  tranquillity  of  the  cloister  nor  in 
monastic  |>orfection.  He  wished  to  be  assured  of  his 
salvation  ;  it  was  the  great  want  of  his  soul;  juid  with- 
out it  he  could  have  no  repose.  15ut  the  fears  which 
had  agitated  him  when  in  the  world,  followed  him  into 
Ids  cell.  Nay.  they  were  even  increased  ;  the  le.T-st  cry 
of  his  heart  raising  a  loud  echo  under  the  silent  vaults 
of  the  cU)istcr.  God  had  brought  him  thither  that  he 
might  learn  to  know  himself,  and  to  despair  of  his  own 
slrciiglh  and  virtue.  His  conscience,  enlightened  by 
the  Divine  Word,  told  him  what  it  was  to  be  holy;  but 
he  was  filled  with  alarm  at  not  finding,  cither  in  his 
heart  or  his  life,  that  iin.age  of  holiness  which  he  had 
contemplated  with  admiration  in  the  Word  of  God — a 
ead  discovery  made  by  every  m.-ui  who  is  in  earnest ! 
No  righteousness  within — no  righteousness  without; 


evervwhere  omission,  sin,  defilement.  .  .  .  The 
more  ardent  Luther's  natural  disposition  was,  the  more 
strongly  he  felt  the  secret  and  unceasing  resistance 
which  human  nature  opposes  to  goodness.  This  threw 
him  into  despair. 

The  monks  and  theologians  of  the  day  invited  him 
to  do  works  in  order  to  satisfy  the  Divine  justice. 
Hut  what  works,  thought  he,  can  proceed  from  such 
a  heart  as  mine  !  How  should  1  be  able  with  works, 
polluted  in  their  very  principle,  to  stand  in  presence  of 
my  holy  Judge?  '•!  felt  myself,"  says  he,  "to  be  a 
great  sinner  before  God,  and  deemed  it  impossible  to 
appease  Him  by  my  merits." 

He  was  agitated,  and,  at  the  same  time,  gloomy, 
shunning  the  silly  and  coarse  conversation  of  the  monks, 
who,  unable  to  comprehend  the  tempests  of  his  soul, 
regarded  him  with  astonishment,  and  reproachetl  him 
for  his  gloom  and  taciturnity.  It  is  told  by  Cochlaus, 
that  one  day,  when  they  were  saying  mass  in  the 
chapel,  Luther  had  come  with  his  sighs,  and  stood 
amid  the  friars  in  sadness  and  anguish.  The  priest 
had  already  prostr.ated  himself,  the  incense  had  been 
placed  on  the  altar,  the  Glotiti  had  been  chanted,  and 
they  Wore  reading  the  Gosiiel,  when  the  poor  monk, 
no  longer  able  to  contain  his  .agou)-.  exclaimed,  in  a 
piercing  tone,  while  throwing  himself  on  his  knees, 
■•  Not  1 !  not  I ! "  Every  one  was  in  amazement,  and 
the  service  was  for  a  moment  interrupted.  Perhaps 
Luther  thought  he  had  heard  himself  reproached  with 
something  of  which  he  knew  he  was  innocent ;  perhaps 
he  meant  to  express  his  unworthiness  to  be  one  of 
those  to  whom  the  death  of  Christ  brought  eternal  life. 
Cochlu?us  says  that  they  were  reading  the  passage  of 
[Scripture  which  tells  of  the  dumb  man  out  of  whom 
Christ  expelled  a  demon.  If  this  account  is  correct, 
Luther's  cry  might  have  a  reference  to  this  circum- 
stance. He  might  mean  to  intimate,  that  though 
dumb  like  the  man,  it  was  owing  to  another  cause  than 
the  iiossession  of  a  demon.  In  fact,  Cochloeus  informs 
us  that  the  friars  sometimes  attributed  the  agonies  of 
their  brother  to  occult  commerce  with  the  devil,  and 
he  himself  is  of  the  same  opinion. 

A  tender  conscience  led  Luther  to  regard  the  smallest 
fault  a.s  a  great  sin.  No  sooner  had  he  discovered  it, 
than  he  strove  to  expiate  it  by  the  severest  mortifica- 
tions. This,  however,  h.id  no  other  effect  th.an  to  con- 
vince him  of  the  utter  iueflicacy  of  all  human  remedies. 
"  I  tormented  myself  to  death,"  says  he,  "  in  order  to 
procure  peace  with  God  to  my  troubled  heart  ami 
agitated  conscience ;  but,  surrotinded  with  fe.irful  dark- 
ness, I  nowhere  found  it." 

The  acts  of  monastic  holiness  which  lulled  so  many 
consciences,  and  to  which  he  himself  had  recourse  in 
his  agony,  soon  appeared  to  Luther  only  the  fallacious 
cures  of  an  empirical  and  quack  religion.  "At  the 
time  when  I  was  a  monk,  if  I  felt  some  temptation 
assail  me,  I  am  lost!  said  I  to  myself;  and  imme- 
diately resorted  to  a  thousand  methods,  iu  order  to  sup- 
press the  cries  of  my  heart.  I  confessed  every  day; 
but  that  did  me  no  good.  Thus  oppressed  with  sad- 
ness, I  w.os  tormented  by  a  multiplicity  of  thoughts. 
'Look!'  exclaimed  I,  'there  you  are  still  envious,  im- 
patient, passionate !  It  is  of  uo  use  then,  for  you,  0 
wretch,  to  have  entered  this  sacred  order.' " 


43 


HISTORY  OF  THE  EEPORMATIOX. 


And  yet  Luther,  imbued  with  the  prejudices  of  his 
day,  had  from  his  youth  up  considered  the  acts,  whose 
impotence  he  now  experienced,  as  sure  remedies  for 
diseased  souls.  What  was  he  to  think  of  the  strange 
discovery  which  he  had  just  made  in  the  solitude  of 
the  cloister?  It  is  possible,  then,  to  dwell  in  the 
sanctuary,  and  still  carry  within  oneself  a  man  of  sin  I 
He  has  received  another  garment,  but  not  another 
heart.  His  hopes  are  disappointed.  "SMiere  is  he  to 
stop  ?  Can  it  be  that  all  these  rules  and  observances 
are  only  human  inventions  ?  Such  a  supposition  ap- 
pears to  him  at  one  time  a  suggestion  of  the  devil, 
and  at  another  time  an  irresistible  truth.  Struggling 
alternately  with  the  holy  voice  which  spoke  to  his 
heart,  and  with  venerable  institutions  which  had  the 
sanction  of  ages,  Luther's  life  was  a  continual  combat. 
The  yoimg  monk,  like  a  shade,  glided  through  the  long 
passages  of  the  cloister,  making  them  echo  with  his 
sad  groans.  His  body  pined  away,  and  his  strength 
left  him ;  on  different  occasions  he  remained  as  if  he 
were  dead.' 

Once,  overwhelmed  with  sadness,  he  shut  himself 
up  in  his  cell,  and  for  several  days  and  nights  allowed 
no  one  to  approach  him.  Lucas  Edemberger,  one  of 
his  friends,  feeling  uneasy  about  the  unhappy  monk, 
and  having  some  presentiment  of  the  state  in  which 
he  actually  was,  taking  with  him  several  boys,  who 
were  accustomed  to  chant  in  choirs,  went  and  knocked 
at  the  door  of  his  cell.  No  one  opens  or  answers. 
Good  Edemberger,  stUl  more  alarmed,  forces  the  door. 
Luther  is  stretched  on  the  floor  insensible,  and  shewing 
no  signs  of  life.  His  friend  tries  in  vain  to  revive 
him,  but  he  still  remains  motionless.  Tlie  young  boys 
begin  to  chant  a  soft  anthem.  Their  pure  voices  act 
like  a  charm  on  the  poor  monk,  who  had  always  the 
greatest  delight  in  music,  and  he  gradually  recovers 
sensation,  consciousness,  and  life.  But  if  music  could 
for  some  moments  give  him  a  slight  degree  of  serenity, 
another  and  more  powerful  remedy  was  wanted  to  cure 
him  effectually — that  soft  and  penetrating  sound  of  the 
Gospel,  which  is  the  voice  of  God  himself.  He  was 
weU  aware  of  this,  and,  accordingly,  his  sorrows  and 
alarms  led  him  to  study  the  writings  of  the  apostles  and 
prophets  with  renewed  zeal. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

rioos  Men  in  Ooisters— Stanpitz— His  Piety— His  Visitation— Conversa- 
tion—Hie  Grace  of  Christ— Rcpenfcince— Power  of  Sin— Sweetness  of 
Eepentance— Election— Providence— The  Bible— The  Old  Monk— The 
Remission  of  Sins  —  Consecration  Dinner— The  Fete  Dieu  — Call  to 
Wittemberg. 

LuTHEP.  was  not  the  first  monk  who  had  passed  through 
similar  struggles.  The  cloisters  often  shrouded  within 
the  obscurity  of  their  walls  abominable  vices,  at  which, 
if  they  had  been  brought  to  light,  every  lionest  mind 
would  have  shuddered ;  but  they  often  also  concealed 

1  Often,  when  meditating  more  attentively  on  the  wrath  of  God,  or  striking 
examples  of  punishment,  he  was  suddenly  shaken  with  such  terror,  that  he 
became  like  one  dead.— Jfelaiu^A.  Vita  Lulh. 


Christian  virtues  which  were  there  unfolded  in  silence, 
and  which,  if  they  had  been  placed  before  the  eyes  of 
the  world,  wotdd  have  excited  admiration.  These  vir- 
tues, possessed  by  those  who  lived  only  with  themselves 
and  with  God,  attracted  no  attention,  and  were  often 
even  imknown  to  the  modest  convent  within  which 
they  were  contained.  Leading  a  life  known  to  God 
only,  these  humble  solitaries  fell  occasionally  into 
that  mystical  theology — sad  malady  of  noblest  minds 
— which  formerly  constituted  the  delight  of  the  first 
monks  on  the  banks  of  the  NUe,  and  which  uselesslv 
consumes  those  who  fall  imder  its  influence. 

StiU,  when  one  of  these  men  happened  to  be  called 
to  an  eminent  station,  he  there  displayed  virtues  whose 
salutary  influence  was  long  and  widely  felt.  The 
candle  being  placed  on  the  candlestick  gave  light  to 
all  the  house.  Several  were  awakened  by  this  light ; 
and  hence  those  pious  souls,  propagated  from  genera- 
tion to  generation,  kept  shining  like  solitary  torches  at 
the  very  time  when  cloisters  were  often  little  better 
than  impm-e  receptacles  of  the  deepest  darkness. 

A  yoimg  man  had  in  this  way  attracted  notice  in 
one  of  the  convents  of  Germany.  He  was  named 
.John  Staupitz,  and  was  of  a  noble  family  in  IMisnia. 
From  his  earliest  youth,  having  a  taste  for  science  and 
a  love  of  virtue,  he  longed  for  retirement,  in  order  to 
devote  himself  to  literature ;  but  soon  finding  that 
philosophy  and  the  study  of  nature  could  do  little  for 
eternal  salvation,  he  began  to  study  theology,  making 
it  his  special  object  to  join  practice  with  knowledge. 
For,  says  one  of  his  biographers,  '•  it  is  vain  to  deck 
ourselves  with  the  name  of  theologian,  if  we  do  not 
prove  our  title  to  the  honourable  name  by  our  life." 
The  study  of  the  Bible,  and  of  the  theology  of  St. 
Augustine,  the  knowledge  of  himself,  and  the  war 
which  he,  like  Luther,  had  to  wage  against  the  wiles 
and  lusts  of  his  heart,  led  him  to  the  Redeemer, 
through  faith  in  whom  he  found  peace  to  his  soul. 
The  doctrine  of  the  election  of  grace  had,  in  particular, 
taken  a  firm  hold  of  his  mind.  Integi-ity  of  life,  pro- 
found science  and  eloquence,  combined  with  a  noble 
appearance  and  a  dignified  address,  recommended  him 
to  his  contemporaries.  The  Elector  of  Saxony,  Frede- 
rick the  Wise,  made  him  his  friend,  employed  him  on 
different  embassies,  and  under  his  direction  foimded 
the  University  of  Wittemberg.  This  disciple  of  St. 
Paul  and  St.  Augustine  was  the  first  Dean  of  the 
Faculty  of  Theology  in  that  school  which  was  one  day 
to  send  forth  light  to  enlighten  the  schools  and  churches 
of  so  many  nations.  He  attended  the  Council  of 
Lateran,  as  deputy  from  the  Archbishop  of  Salzboui-g. 
became  prorincial  of  his  order  in  Thiiringia  and 
Saxony,  and  ultimately  vicar-general  of  the  Augustincs 
all  over  Germany. 

Staupitz  lamented  the  corruption  of  manners  and  the 
errors  in  doctrine  which  were  laying  waste  the  Church. 
This  is  proved  by  his  writings  on  the  love  of  God,  ou 
Christian  faith,  on  resemblance  to  Clirist  in  His  death, 
and  by  the  testimony  of  Luther.  But  he  considered 
the  former  of  these  evils  as  greatly  the  worse  of  the 
two.  Besides,  the  mildness  and  indecision  of  his  cha- 
racter, and  his  desire  not  to  go  beyond  the  sphere  of 
action  which  he  thought  assigned  to  him,  made  hira 
fitter  to  be  the  restorer  of  a  convent  than  the  reformer 


8TAUPITZ  AND  LUTHER 


of  Iho  CIniroh.  Ho  could  liavo  wished  to  confer  iin- 
portmit  sintioiis  ouly  oil  distinguished  men  ;  but  not 
fiiuiing  liioin,  ho  was  contented  to  omplov  otliers. 
"  We  niust  ploupli  with  horses,"  said  he,  "  if  we  can 
find  tiiem ;  but  if  WO  have  no  liorscs,  wo  must  plough 
with  oxen." 

Wo  have  seen  the  anpiish  and  inward  wrestlings  to 
which  Luther  was  n  prey  in  the  convent  of  Erfurt.  At 
this  time  a  visit  from  tiio  vicar-general  wius  announced; 
and  Staupitz  accordingly  arrived  to  make  his  ordinary 
inspc<-tion.  The  friend  of  Frederick,  the  founder  of 
tho  University  of  Wittembcrg,  the  head  of  the  Augns- 
tiiies,  took  a  kind  interest  in  iho  monks  under  his 
authority.  It  was  not  long  cro  one  of  the  friars  of  tho 
convent  attracted  his  attention.  This  wsis  a  young  man 
of  middle  stature,  whom  study,  abstinence,  and  vigils, 
hud  so  wasted  away,  that  his  bones  might  have  been 
counto<!.  His  eyes,  which  at  a  later  period  were  com- 
paretl  to  those  of  the  falcon,  were  sunken,  his  gait  was 
sad,  and  his  lot>ks  bespoke  a  troubled  soul,  tho  victim 
i  of  numerous  struggles,  yet  still  strong  and  bent  on 
I  resisting.  His  whole  appearance  had  in  it  something 
grave,  melancholy,  and  solemn.  Staupitz,  whose  dis- 
cernment had  been  improved  by  long  experience,  easily 
discovered  what  was  passing  in  the  soul  of  tho  young 
friar,  and  singled  him  out  from  those  around  him.  He 
felt  drawn  towards  him.  had  a  presentiment  of  his  high 
destiny,  and  experienced  the  interest  of  a  parent  for 
his  subaltern.  He,  too,  had  struggled  like  Luther,  and 
could  therefore  iniilcrstand  his  situation.  Above  all, 
ho  could  shew  him  the  way  of  i>eacc,  which  he  himself 
had  found.  The  information  he  received  of  tho  cir- 
cumstances which  had  brought  the  young  Augustine  to 
tho  convent  increased  his  sympathy.  Ho  requested 
the  prior  to  treat  him  with  great  mildness,  and  availed 
himself  of  the  opportunities  which  his  ollice  gave  him 
lo  gain  the  young  frim-'s  confidence.  Going  kindly  up 
to  him,  ho  took  every  me.ans  to  remove  his  timidity, 
which  wius,  moreover,  increased  by  the  respect  and 
reverence  which  the  elevated  rank  of  Staupitz  naturally 
inspired. 

Tho  heart  of  Luther,  till  then  closed  by  harsh  treat- 
meut,  opened  at  last,  ami  expanded  to  the  mild  rays 
of  charity.  '"As  in  water  face  answereth  to  face,  so 
tho  heart  of  mau  to  man."  The  heart  of  Staupitz 
answered  to  the  heart  of  Luther.  The  vicar-geueral 
understoo<l  him;  and  the  monk,  in  his  turn,  felt  a  con- 
fidence in  Staupitz  which  no  one  had  hitherto  inspired. 
Ue  revealed  to  him  the  cause  of  his  s;idncss,  depicted 
the  fearful  thoughts  which  agitated  him,  and  then  in 
the  cloister  of  Erfurt  conuucQccd  a  couvcrsatiou  full 
of  wisdom  and  instniction. 

"In  vain,"  si\id  Luihcr  dcspondingly  to  Staupitz, — 
'•  in  vain  do  I  make  promises  to  God ;  sin  has  always 
the  mastery." 

"O  my  friend,"  replied  the  vicar-general,  thinking 
Low  it  had  been  with  himself,  '•  more  than  a  thousand 
times  have  I  sworn  to  our  holy  God  to  live  piously, 
and  I  have  never  done  so.  Now  I  no  longer  swear ;  for 
1  know  I  should  not  perform.  L'nle^s  God  be  pleased 
to  be  gnicious  to  me  for  the  love  of  Christ,  and  to  grant 
roe  a  happy  departure  when  I  leave  this  world,  I  sli.all 
not  be  able,  with  all  my  vows  and  all  my  good  works, 
to  stand  before  Uim.    I  must  perish." 


Tho  young  monk  is  terrified  at  tho  thought  of  tho 
Divine  justice,  and  lays  all  his  fears  before  the  vicar- 
general.  Tho  ineffable  holiness  of  God,  and  his  sove- 
reign majesty,  fill  him  with  alarm.  Who  will  be  ablo 
to  support  the  day  of  His  advent — who  to  stand  when 
He  appeareth  ? 

Staupitz  resumes.  He  knows  where  ho  has  found 
])cace,  and  his  young  friend  will  hear  it.  '"Why  tor- 
ment thyself,"  said  he  to  him,  "  with  all  these  sjiecu- 
lations  luid  high  thoughts  .'  Look  to  the  wounds  of 
.Jesus  Christ,  to  the  blood  which  Ho  has  shed  for  thee; 
then  thou  slialt  see  tho  grace  of  God.  Instead  of 
making  a  martyr  of  thyself  for  thy  faults,  throw  thy- 
self into  the  arms  of  the  Redeemer.  Confide  in  Him, 
in  the  righteousness  of  His  life,  and  the  expiation  of 
His  death.  Keep  not  back;  God  is  not  angry  with 
thee ;  it  is  thou  who  art  angry  with  God.  Listen  to 
the  Son  of  God,  who  became  man  in  order  to  assure 
thee  of  the  Divine  favour.  lie  says  to  thee,  'Thou 
ar'  my  sheep;  thou  hearcst  my  voice ;  none  shall  pluck 
thee  out  of  my  hand.'" 

But  Luther  does  not  here  find  the  repentance  which 
he  believes  necessary  to  salvation.  He  replies,  and  it 
is  the  ordinary  reply  of  agonized  and  frightened  souls, 
"  How  dare  I  believe  in  the  favour  of  God,  while  there 
is  nothing  in  me  like  true  conversion?  I  must  bo 
changed  before  He  can  receive  me." 

His  venerable  guide  shews  him  that  there  can  be 
no  true  conversion  while  God  is  dreaded  as  a  severe 
Judge.  "What  will  you  .say,  then,"  exclaims  Luther, 
'•of  the  many  consciences  to  which  a  thousand  unsup- 
portablo  observances  are  prescribed  as  a  means  of 
gaining  heaven?" 

Then  he  heirs  this  reply  from  the  vicar-general,  or 
rather  his  belief  is,  that  it  comes  not  from  man,  but 
is  a  voice  soundiug  from  heaven.  "  No  repentance," 
s.iys  Staupitz,  '"is  true,  save  that  which  begins  with 
the  love  of  God  and  of  righteousness.  What  others 
im.agine  to  be  the  cud  and  completion  of  repentance  is, 
on  the  contrary,  only  the  commencement  of  it.  To 
have  a  thorough  love  of  goodness,  thou  must,  before 
all,  have  a  thorough  love  of  God.  If  thou  wouldest 
be  converted,  dwell  not  upon  all  these  macerations  and 
tortures :  '  Ix)ve  Him  who  first  loved  thee.' " 

Luther  listens  and  listens  again.  These  consoling 
words  fill  him  with  unknown  joy,  and  give  him  new 
light.  ••  It  is  Jesus  Christ,"  thiuks  he  in  his  heart. 
'•  Yes,  it  is  Jesus  Christ  himself  who  consoles  me  so 
wonderfully  by  these  sweet  and  salutary  words." 

These  words,  in  fact,  penetrated  to  the  inmost  heart 
of  the  young  monk,  like  the  sharp  arrow  of  a  mighty 
man.  In  order  to  repent,  it  is  necessary  to  love  God. 
Illumiucd  with  this  new  light,  he  proceeds  to  examine 
the  Scriptures,  searching  out  all  the  passages  which 
speak  of  repentance  and  conversion.  These  words, 
till  now  so  much  dreaded,  become,  to  use  his  own 
expressions,  "  an  agreeable  sport,  and  the  most  delight- 
ful recreation.  All  the  p.issages  of  Scripture  which 
frightened  him  seem  now  to  rise  up  from  all  sides, 
smiling,  .and  leaping,  and  sporting  with  him." 

"Hitherto,"  exclaims  he,  "though  I  carefully  dis- 
guised the  state  of  my  heart,  and  strove  to  give  utter- 
•ance  to  a  love  which  was  only  constrained  and  fictitious, 
Scripture  did  not  contain  a  word  which  seemed  to  me 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


more  bitter  thau  that  of  repentance.  Now,  however, 
there  is  none  sweeter  and  more  agreeable.  Oh !  how 
pleasant  the  precepts  of  God  are,  when  we  read  them 
not  only  in  books,  but  in  the  precious  wounds  of  the 
Saviour ! " 

Meanwhile,  Luther,  though  consoled  by  the  words  of 
Staupitz,  was  still  subject  to  fits  of  depression.  Sin 
manifested  itself  anew  to  his  timorous  conscience,  and 
then  the  joy  of  salvation  was  succeeded  by  his  former 
despair.  "  0  my  sin  !  my  sin  !  my  sin !"  one  day  ex- 
claimed the  young  monk  in  presence  of  the  vicar- 
general,  in  accents  of  the  deepest  grief.  "  Ah !"  rejilied 
he,  "woidd  you  only  be  a  sinner  on  canvass,  and  also 
have  a  Saviour  only  on  canvass?"  Then  Staupitz 
gravely  added,  "  Know  that  Jesus  Christ  is  the  Saviour 
even  of  those  who  are  great,  real  sinners,  and  every 
way  deserving  of  condemnation." 

What  agitated  Luther  was  not  merely  the  sin  which 
he  felt  in  his  heart.  The  u{)braidings  of  his  conscience 
were  confirmed  by  arguments  drawu  from  reason.  If 
the  holy  precepts  of  the  Bible  frightened  him,  some  of 
its  doctrines  likewise  increased  his  terror.  Truth, 
wliich  is  the  great  means  by  which  God  gives  peace  to 
man,  must  necessai-ily  begin  by  removing  the  false 
security  which  destroys  him.  Tihe  doctrine  of  election, 
in  particular,  disturbed  the  young  man,  and  threw  him 
into  a  field  which  it  is  difficult  to  traverse.  Must  he 
believe  that  it  was  man  who,  on  his  part,  first  chose 
God?  or  that  it  was  God  who  first  chose  man?  The 
Bible,  history,  daily  experience,  .and  the  writings  of 
Augustine,  had  shewn  him  that  always,  and  in  every 
thing,  in  looking  for  a  first  cause,  it  was  necessary  to 
ascend  to  the  sovereign  will,  by  which  every  thing 
exists,  and  ou  which  every  thing  deiiends.  But  his 
ardent  spirit  would  have  gone  further.  He  would  have 
penetrated  into  the  secret  counsel  of  God,  unveiled  its 
mysteries,  seen  the  invisible,  and  comprehended  the 
incomprehensible.  Staupitz  interfered,  telling  him  not 
to  pretend  to  fathom  the  hidden  pm-poses  of  God,  but 
to  confine  himself  to  those  of  them  which  have  been 
made  manifest  in  Christ.  "Look  to  the  wounds  of 
Christ,"  said  he  to  him,  "  and  there  see  a  bright  disjilay 
of  the  purposes  of  God  towards  man.  It  is  impossible 
to  comprehend  God  out  of  Jesus  Christ.  In  Christ 
you  will  find  what  I  am,  and  what  I  require,  saith  the 
Lord.  You  can  find  Him  nowhere  else,  either  in 
heaven  or  on  the  earth." 

The  vicar- general  went  further.  He  convinced 
Luther  of  the  paternal  designs  of  Providence,  in  per- 
mitting the  various  temptations  and  combats  which  the 
soul  has  to  sustain.  He  exhibited  them  to  him  in  a 
light  well  fitted  to  revive  his  courage.  By  such  trials 
God  prepares  those  whom  He  destines  for  some  impor- 
tant work.  The  ship  must  be  proved  before  it  is 
launched  on  the  boundless  deep.  If  this  education  is 
necessary  for  every  man,  it  is  so  particularly  for  those 
who  are  to  have  an  influence  on  their  generation.  This 
Staupitz  represented  to  the  monk  of  Erfurt.  "It  is 
not  without  cause,"  said  he  to  him,  "  that  God  ex- 
ercises you  by  so  many  combats ;  be  assured  He  will 
employ  you  in  great  things  as  His  minister." 

These  words,  which  Luther  hears  with  astonishment 
and  humility,  fill  him  with  courage,  and  give  him  a 
consciousness  of  powers,  whose  existence  he  had  not 


even  suspected.  The  wisdom  and  prudence  of  an 
enlightened  friend  gradually  reveal  the  strong  man  to 
himself.  Nor  does  Staupitz  rest  here.  He  gives  hira 
valuable  directions  as  to  his  studies,  exhorting  him  in 
future  to  lay  aside  the  systems  of  the  school,  and  draw 
all  his  theology  from  the  Bible.  "  Let  the  study  of  the 
Scriptm-es,"  said  he,  "  be  your  favourite  occupation." 
Never  was  good  advice  better  followed.  But  what, 
above  all,  delighted  Luther,  was  the  present  of  a  Bible 
from  Staupitz.  Perhaps  it  was  the  Latin  Bible,  bound 
in  red  leather,  which  belonged  to  the  convent,  and 
which  it  was  the  summit  of  his  desire  to  possess,  that 
he  might  be  able  to  carry  it  about  with  him  wher- 
ever he  went,  because  all  its  leaves  were  familiar 
to  him,  and  he  knew  where  to  look  for  every  passage. 
At  length  this  treasm-e  is  his  own.  From  that  time  he 
studies  the  Scriptures,  and  especially  the  Epistles  of  St. 
Pavil,  with  always  increasing  zeal.  The  only  author 
whom  he  admits  along  with  the  Bible  is  St.  Augustine. 
Whatever  he  reads  is  deeply  imprinted  on  his  soul,  for 
his  struggles  had  prepared  him  for  comprehending  it. 
The  soil  had  been  ploughed  deep,  and  the  incorruptible 
seed  penetrates  far  into  it.  When  Staujiitz  left  Erfurt, 
a  new  day  had  dawned  upon  Luther. 

Nevertheless,  the  work  was  not  finished.  The  vicar- 
general  had  prepared  it,  but  its  completion  was  re- 
served for  a  humbler  instrument.  The  conscience  of 
the  young  Augustine  had  not  yet  found  repose,  and, 
owing  to  his  efforts  and  the  stretch  on  which  his  soul 
had  been  kept,  his  body  at  length  gave  way.  He  was 
attacked  by  an  illness  which  brought  him  to  the  gates 
of  death.  This  was  in  the  second  year  of  his  residence 
in  the  coirvent.  All  his  agonies  and  terrors  were 
awakened  at  the  approach  of  death.  His  own  pollu- 
tion and  the  holiness  of  God  anew  distracted  his  soul. 
One  day,  when  overwhelmed  with  despair,  an  old 
monk  entered  his  cell,  and  addressed  him  in  consoling 
terms.  Luther  opened  his  heart  to  him,  and  made 
him  aware  of  the  fears  by  which  he  was  agitated.  The 
respectable  old  man  was  incapable  of  following  hira 
into  all  his  doubts,  as  Staupitz  had  done ;  but  he  knew 
his  Credo,  and  having  found  in  it  the  means  of  consol- 
ing his  own  heai't,  he  could  apply  the  same  remedy  to 
the  young  friar.  Leading  him  back  to  the  Apostles' 
Creed,  which  Luther  had  learned  in  infancy  at  the 
school  of  Mansf  eld,  the  old  monk  good-naturedly  re- 
peated the  article,  "7  believe  in  the  forgiveness  of  sins." 
These  simple  words,  which  the  pious  friar  calmly  re- 
jjeated  at  this  decisive  moment,  poured  great  consola- 
tion into  the  soul  of  Luther.  "  I  believe,"  oft  repeated 
he  to  himself  on  his  sick-bed, — "  I  believe  in  the  for- 
giveness of  sins."  "All!"  said  the  monk,  "the  thing 
to  be  believed  is  not  merely  that  David's  or  Peter's 
sins  are  forgiven ;  this  the  devils  believe  :  God's  com- 
mand is,  to  believe  that  our  own  sins  are  forgiven." 
How  delightful  this  command  appeared  to  poor  Luther ! 
"  See  what  St.  Bernard  says  in  his  sermon  on  the 
Annunciation,"  added  the  old  friar;  "the  witness 
which  the  Holy  Spirit  witnesseth  with  our  spirit  is, 
'  Thy  sins  arc  forgiven  thee.' " 

From  this  moment  light  sprung  up  in  the  heart  of 
the  young  monk  of  Erfm-t.  The  gracious  word  has 
been  pronounced,  and  he  believes  it.  He  renounces 
the  idea  of  meriting  salvation,  and  puts  implicit  con- 


LUTHER  ORDAINED  A  PRIEST. 


51 


fidence  in  the  grace  of  God  through  Jesus  Clirist.  lie 
does  uot  see  all  the  consequences  of  the  jirinciple  which 
he  has  admitted;  he  is  still  sincere  in  his  attachment 
to  the  Church,  and  yet  he  has  no  longer  need  of 
her.  He  has  received  salvation  immediately  from 
God  himself;  and  from  that  moment  Roman  Catho- 
licism is  virtually  destroyed  in  him.  He  goes  for- 
ward and  searches  the  writings  of  the  apostles  and 
prophets,  for  every  thing  that  may  strengthen  the 
hope  which  fills  his  heart.  Each  day  he  invokes  help 
from  above,  and  each  day  also  the  light  increases  in 
Lis  soul. 

The  health  wliich  his  spirit  had  found  soon  restores 
health  to  his  body,  and  he  rises  from  his  sick-bed, 
after  having,  in  a  double  sense,  received  a  new  life. 
During  the  feast  of  Noel,  which  arrived  shortly 
after,  he  tasted  abundantly  of  all  the  consolations 
of  faith.  With  sweet  emotion  he  took  part  in  the 
holy  solemnities ;  and  when,  in  the  middle  of  the 
gorgeous  service  of  the  day,  he  came  to  chant  these 
words, — "0  heata  culpa,  qitw  talem  meruhti  Redeni])- 
toretn'"^  his  whole  being  said  Amen,  and  thrilled  with 

joy- 
Luther  had  been  two  years  in  the  cloister,  and  must 
now  be  consecrated  priest.  He  had  received  much, 
aud  he  looked  forward  with  delight  to  the  prospect 
which  the  priesthood  presented  of  enabling  him  freely 
to  give  what  he  had  freely  received.  Wishing  to  avail 
himself  of  the  occasion  to  be  fully  reconciled  to  his 
father,  he  invited  him  to  be  present,  and  even  asked 
him  to  fix  the  day.  John  Luther,  though  not  yet 
entirely  appeased,  nevertheless  accepted  the  invitation, 
and  named  Sabbath,  the  2d  May,  1507. 

In  the  list  of  Luther's  friends  was  the  vicar  of 
Eisenach,  John  Braun,  who  had  been  his  faithful  ad- 
viser when  he  resided  in  that  town.  Luther  wrote 
him  on  the  22d  April.  It  is  the  Reformer's  earliest 
letter,  and  bears  the  following  address: — "To  John 
Braun,  Holy  and  Venerable  Priest  of  Christ  and 
Mary."  It  is  only  in  the  two  first  letters  of  Luther 
that  the  name  of  Mary  occurs. 

"  God,  who  is  glorious  and  holy  in  all  His  works," 
says  the  candidate  for  the  priesthood,  "  having  de- 
signed to  exalt  me  exceedingly, — me,  a  miserable  aud 
every  way  unworthy  sinner,  and  to  call  me  solely  out 
of  Ilis  abundant  mercy,  to  His  sublime  ministry,  it  is 
my  duty,  in  order  to  testify  my  gi-atitude  for  a  good- 
ness so  divine  and  so  magnificent,  (as  far  at  least  as 
dust  can  do  it,)  to  fulfil  with  my  whole  heart  the  offlce 
which  is  entrusted  to  me." 

At  length  the  day  arrived.  The  miner  of  Mansfeld 
failed  not  to  be  present  at  the  cousccration  of  his  son. 
.  .  .  .  He  even  gave  him  an  unequivocal  mark  of 
his  affection  aud  generosity,  by  making  him  a  present 
of  twenty  florins  on  the  occasion. 

The  ceremony  took  place,  Jerome,  Bishop  of  Bran- 
debourg,  officiating.  At  the  moment  of  conferring  on 
Luther  the  right  to  celebrate  mass,  he  put  the  chalice 
into  his  hand,  uttering  these  solemn  words,  '•'•  Accipe 
potestatem  sacriJicaniU  pro  rivis  ct  ))mrtuis  " — "  Receive 
power  to  sacrifice  for  the  living  and  the  dead."  Luther 
then  listened  complacently  to  these  words,  which  gave 
him  the  power  of  doing  the  very  work  appropriated  to 
»  "0  blessed  fault,  to  merit  sach  a  Redeemer."— il/a(/i«siiis,  p.  5. 


the  Son  of  God  ;  but  they  afterwards  made  him  shud- 
der. "That  the  earth  did  not  swallow  us  both,"  said 
he,  "  was  more  than  we  deserved,  and  was  owing  to 
the  great  patience  and  long-suffering  of  the  Lord." 

The  father  afterwards  dined  at  the  convent  with  his 
son,  the  friends  of  the  young  priest,  and  the  monks. 
The  conversation  turned  on  JIartin's  entrance  into  the 
cloister,  the  friars  loudly  extolling  it  as  one  of  the  most 
meritorious  of  works.  Then  the  inflexible  John,  turn- 
ing towards  his  sou,  said  to  him,  "  Hast  thou  uot  read 
in  Scripture  to  obey  thy  father  aud  thy  mother?" 
These  words  struck  Luther ;  they  gave  him  quite  a 
different  view  of  the  action  which  had  brought  him 
into  the  convent,  and  for  a  long  time  continued  to 
echo  in  his  heart. 

By  the  advice  of  Staupitz,  Luther,  shortly  after  his 
ordination,  made  short  excursions  on  foot  into  the 
neighbom'ing  parishes  and  convents,  both  for  relaxa- 
tion, to  give  his  body  the  necessary  exercise,  and  to 
accustom  himself  to  preaching. 

The  Fete  Dieu  was  to  be  celebrated  with  splendour 
at  Eisleben,  where  the  vicar-general  was  to  be  present. 
Luther  repaired  thither.  He  had  still  need  of  Staupitz, 
and  missed  no  opportunity  of  meeting  with  this  enlight- 
ened conductor  who  was  guiding  him  into  the  way 
of  life.  The  procession  was  numerous  aud  brilliant. 
Staupitz  himself  carried  the  holy  sacrament,  and  Luther 
followed  in  his  sacerdotal  dress.  The  thought  that  it 
was  truly  Jesus  Christ  that  the  vicar-general  was 
carrying — the  idea  that  Christ  was  there  in  person 
actually  before  him — suddenly  struck  Luther's  imag- 
ination, and  filled  him  with  such  amazement  that  he 
could  scarcely  move  forwiuxl.  The  perspiration  fell 
from  him  in  drops  ;  he  shook,  and  thought  he  would 
have  died  with  agony  and  terror.  At  length  the  pro- 
cession ceased.  This  host,  which  had  so  awakened  the 
fears  of  the  monk,  was  solemnly  deposited  iu  the  sanc- 
tuary; and  Luther,  as  soon  as  he  was  alone  with  Stau- 
pitz, threw  himself  into  his  arms,  and  told  him  of  his 
consternation.  Then  the  worthy  vicar-general,  who 
had  long  known  that  Saviour  who  breaketh  not  the 
bruised  reed,  said  to  him  mildly,  "  It  was  not  Jesus 
Christ,  my  brother.  Jesus  Christ  does  not  alarm — ^He 
consoles  merely." 

Luther  was  not  to  remain  hid  in  an  obscure  convent. 
The  time  had  arrived  for  his  being  transported  to  a 
larger  theatre.  Staupitz,  with  whom  he  was  in  con- 
stant correspondence,  was  well  aware  that  the  soul  of 
the  young  monk  was  too  active  to  be  confined  within 
so  narrow  a  circle.  He  mentioned  him  to  Frederick 
of  Saxony;  and  this  enlightened  prince,  in  1508,  prob- 
ably towards  the  close  of  the  year,  invited  him  to  a 
chair  in  the  University  of  Wittemberg.  Wittemberg 
was  a  field  on  which  he  was  to  fight  hard  battles ;  and 
Luther  felt  that  his  vocation  was  there.  Being  re- 
quired to  repair  promptly  to  his  new  post,  he  answered 
the  appeal  without  delay;  and,  in  the  hurry  of  his  re- 
moval, had  uot  even  time  to  write  him  whom  he  called 
his  master  and  beloved  father — John  Braun,  curate  of 
Eisenach.  Some  months  after,  he  wrote — "My  de- 
parture was  so  sudden,  that  those  I  was  living  with 
scarcely  knew  of  it.  I  am  far  away,  I  confess ;  but 
the  better  part  of  me  is  still  with  you."  Luther  had 
been  three  years  iu  the  cloister  of  Erfurt. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


CHAPTER  V. 

The  University  of  Wittemlierg— First  Employment- BibUcal  Lectures- 
Sensation— Preaching  at  Wittembers— The  Old  Chapel— Impression. 

In  the  year  1502,  tbe  Elector  Frederick  had  foimded 
a  new  university  at  Wittemberg,  declaring,  in  tlie  act 
by  which  he  confirmed  it,  that  he  and  his  people  would 
turn  to  it  as  towards  an  oracle.  He  thought  not  at 
the  time  that  these  words  would  be  so  magnificently 
realized.  Two  men  belonging  to  the  opposition  which 
had  been  formed  against  the  scholastic  system, — viz., 
Pollich  of  Mellerstadt,  doctor  of  medicine,  law,  and  phi- 
losophy, and  Staupitz, — had  great  influence  in  found- 


WITTEM  B  E  RQ 

iiig  this  school.  The  university  declaied  St.  Augus- 
tine its  patron  ;  and  even  this  choice  was  a  presage  of 
good.  In  possession  of  great  freedom,  and  regarded  as 
a  tribunal  to  which,  in  cases  of  difficulty,  the  supreme 
decision  belonged,  this  new  institution,  which  was  in 
every  way  fitted  to  become  the  cradle  of  the  Eeforma- 
tion,  powerfully  contributed  to  the  develojiment  of 
Luther  and  his  woi'k. 

On  his  arrival  at  Wittemberg,  Luther  repaired  to  the 
convent  of  Augustines,  where  a  cell  was  allotted  him ; 
for  though  professor,  he  ceased  not  to  be  monk.  He 
was  appointed  to  teach  philosophy  and  dialectics.  In 
assigning  him  these  departments,  regard  had,  no  doubt, 
been  had  to  the  studies  which  he  had  prosecuted  at 
Erfurt,  and  to  his  degree  of  Master  of  Arts.  Thus 
Luther,  who  was  hungering  and  thirsting  for  the  word 
of  life,  saw  himself  obliged  to  give  his  almost  exclusive 
attention  to  the  scholastic  philosophy  of  Aristotle.  He 
had  need  of  the  bread  of  life  which  God  gives  to  the 
world,  and  he  must  occupy  himself  with  human  subtle- 
ties.    How  galling !     How  much  he  sighed !     "  I  am 


well,  by  the  grace  of  God,"  wrote  he  to  Braun,  "  were 
it  not  that  I  must  study  philosophy  with  all  my  might. 
Ever  since  I  arrived  at  Wittemberg,  I  have  eagerly 
desired  to  exchange  this  study  for  that  of  theology; 
but,"  added  he,  lest  it  should  be  thought  ho  meant  the 
theology  of  the  time,  "  the  theology  I  mean  is  that 
which  seeks  out  the  kernel  of  the  nut,  the  heart  of  the 
wheat,  and  the  marrow  of  the  bone.  Howbeit,  God  is 
God,"  continues  he,  with  that  confidence  which  was  the 
soul  of  his  life ;  "  man  is  almost  always  deceived  in  his 
judgment ;  but  He  is  our  God,  and  will  conduct  us  by 
His  goodness  for  ever  and  ever."  The  studies  in  which 
Luther  was  at  this  time  obliged  to  engage,  were  after- 
wards of  great  service  to  him  in  combating  the  errors 
of  the  schoolmen. 

Here,  however,  he  could  not  stop.  The  desire  of  his 
heart  must  be  accomplished.  The  same 
power  which  formerly  pushed  him  from 
the  bar  iuto  the  monastic  life,  now 
pushed  him  from  philosophy  towards 
the  Bible.  He  zealously  commenced 
the  study  of  ancient  languages,  espe- 
cially Greek  and  Hebrew,  that  he  might 
be  able  to  draw  science  and  learning  at 
the  fountain-head.  He  was  all  his  life 
a  n  indefatigable  student.  Some  months 
al'ler  his  arrival  at  the  university,  he 
:i]iplied  for  the  degree  of  Bachelor  in 
Divinity,  and  obtained  it  in  the  end  of 
.March,  1509,  with  a  special  injunction 
to  devote  himself  to  biblical  theology, 
.nl  Biblia. 

Every  day  at  one,  Luther  had  to 
l>  eture  on  the  Bible, — a  precious  em- 
I  '  lyment  both  for  the  professor  and 
i  IS  pupils — giving  them  abetter  insight 
to  the  divine  meaning  of  those  oracles 
Inch  had  so  long  been  lost  both  to  the 
1  Lople  and  the  school. 

He  began  his  lectures  with  an  exposi- 
tion of  the  Psalms,  and  shortly  after 
l)ioceeded  to  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans. 
It  w  as  especially  when  meditating  upon 
It  that  the  light  of  truth  entered  his  heart.  After 
retiring  to  his  quiet  cell,  he  spent  hours  in  the  study  of 
the  Divine  Word — the  Epistle  of  St.  Paul  lying  open 
before  him.  One  day,  coming  to  the  seventeenth  verse 
of  the  first  chapter,  he  read  these  words  of  the  prophet 
Habakkuk,  "  The  just  shall  live  hj  faith."  He  is  struck 
with  the  expression.  The  just,  then,  has  a  different 
life  from  other  men,  and  this  life  is  given  by  faith. 
These  words,  which  he  receives  into  his  heart  as  if 
God  himself  had  there  deposited  them,  unveils  the 
mystery  of  the  Christian  life  to  him,  and  gives  him  an 
increase  of  this  life.  Long  after,  in  the  midst  of  his 
numerous  labours,  he  thought  he  still  heard  a  voice 
saying  to  him,  "The  just  shall  live  by  faith." 

Luther's  lectures,  thus'prepaj-ed,  had  little  resem- 
blance to  those  which  had  hitherto  been  delivered.  It 
was  not  a  declamatory  rhetorician,  or  a  pedantic  school- 
man that  spoke ;  it  was  a  Christian  who  had  felt  the 
power  of  revealed  truth — truth  which  he  derived  from 
the  Bible,  and  presented  to  his  astonished  hearers, 
all  full  of  life,  as  it  came  from  the  treasury  of  hia 


LUTHER  PREACHES  AT  WITTEMBERG. 


4 


heart.     It  was  not  a  lesson  from  man,  but  a  lesson 
from  God. 

This  novel  exposition  of  the  truth  was  much  talked 
of.  The  news  spread  far  and  wide,  and  attracted 
a  great  nunilier  of  foreign  students  to  the  recently 
founded  university.  Even  some  of  the  professors 
attended  the  lectures  of  Luther,  among  others,  Meller- 
stadt,  often  snrnamed,  "  TIic  Lii/lit  of  the  World."  He 
■nras  the  first  rector  of  the  university,  and  had  pre- 
viously been  at  Leipsic,  where  he  had  vigorously  com- 
bated the  ridiculous  lessons  of  the  schoolmen,  and 
denying  that  "  the  light  of  the  first  day  of  creation 
could  be  theolog}',"  had  maintained  that  this  science 
ought  to  be  based  on  the  study  of  literature.  "  Tliis 
monk,"  said  ho,  "will  send  all  the  doctors  to  the  right 
about.  lie  will  introduce  a  now  doctrine,  and  reform 
the  whole  Church,  for  he  founds  upon  the  Word  of 
God ;  and  no  man  in  the  world 
can  either  combat  or  ovcr- 
tlirow  this  AVord,  even  though 
he  should  attack  it  with  all 
the  weapons  of  philosophy ; 
the  sophists,  Scotists,  Albert- 
ists,  Thomists,  and  the  whole 
fraternity." 

Staupitz,  who  was  the  in 
Strument  in  the  hand  ot  Pi 
vidence  to  unfold  the  gifts  m  1 
treasures  hidden  in  Luthei, 
invited  him  to  preach  in  the 
church  of  the  Augustines  rh( 
young  professor  recoiled  at  tin 
proposal.  He  wished  to  c  i 
fine  himself  to  his  acidtmi 
functions,  and  trembled  it  tin, 
thought  of  adding  to  them 
that  of  preacher.  In  ^  ■xm  did 
Staupitz  urge  him.  "  No,  no," 
replied  he,  "  it  is  no  light  mat- 
ter to  speak  to  men  in  the  place  ""^  , 
of  God."  Touching  humility 
in  this  gi-eat  Reformer  of  the 
Church !  Staupitz  insisted  ; 
but  the  ingenious  Luther,  says  one  of  his  biographers, 
found  fifteen  arguments,  pretests,  and  evasions,  to 
excuse  himself  from  this  calling.  The  chief  of  the 
Augustines,  still  continuing  his  attack,  Ltither  ex- 
claimed, "  Ah !  doctor,  in  doing  this  you  deprive  me 
of  life.  I  would  not  be  able  to  hold  out  throe  months." 
"  Very  weU,"  replied  the  vicar-gencral,  "  so  be  it  in 
Grod's  name.  For  np  yonder,  also,  our  Lord  has  need 
of  able  and  devoted  men."     Luther  behoved  to  yield. 

In  the  middle  of  the  public  square  of  Wittemberg 
■was  a  wooden  chapel,  thirty  feet  long  by  twenty  wide, 
whose  sides,  propped  up  in  all  directions,  were  falling 
to  decay.  An  old  pulpit  made  of  fir,  three  feet  in 
height,  received  the  preacher.  In  this  miserable  chapel 
the  preaching  of  the  Reformation  commenced.  God 
was  pleased  that  that  which  was  to  establish  His  glory 
should  have  the  humblest  origin.  The  foundation  of 
the  church  of  the  Augustines  had  just  been  laid,  and 
until  it  should  bo  finished  this  humble  church  was 
employed.  "This  building,"  adds  the  contemporary 
of  Luther  who  relates  these  circumstances,  "  may  well 


be  compared  to  the  stable  in  which  Christ  was  born. 
It  was  in  this  miserable  enclosure  that  God  was  pleased, 
so  to  speak,  to  make  His  beloved  Son  be  born  a  second 
time.  Among  the  thousands  of  cathedrals  and  parish 
churches  with  which  the  world  abounded,  there  was 
then  one  only  which  God  selected  for  the  glorious 
preaching  of  eternal  life." 

Luther  preaches,  and  every  thing  is  striking  in  the 
new  preacher.  His  expressive  countenance,  his  noble 
air,  his  clear  and  sonorous  voice,  captivate  the  hearers. 

The  greater  part  of  preachers  before  him  had  sought 
rather  to  amuse  their  auditory  than  to  convert  them. 
The  great  seriousness  which  predominates  in  Luther's 
preaching,  and  the  joy  with  which  the  knowledge  of 
the  Gospel  has  filled  his  heart,  give  to  liis  eloquence 
at  once  an  authority,  a  fervour,  and  an  unction  which 
none  of  his  predecessors  had.     "  Endowed,"  says  one 


of  his  opponents,  "with  a  keen  and  acute  iutollect, 
and  a  retentive  memory,  and  having  an  admirable 
facility  in  the  use  of  his  mother  tongue,  Luther,  in 
point  of  eloquence,  yielded  to  none  of  his  age.  Dis- 
coursing from  the  pulpit  a.s  if  he  had  been  agitated  by 
some  strong  passion,  and  suiting  his  action  to  his  words, 
he  produced  a  wonderful  imjiression  on  the  minds  of 
his  hearers,  and,  like  a  torrent,  carried  them  along 
whithei-soever  he  wished.  So  much  force,  graceful- 
ness, and  eloquence,  are  seldom  seen  in  the  people  of 
the  north."  "  He  had,"  says  Bossuet,  "  a  lively  and 
impetuous  eloquence,  which  hurried  people  away  and 
entranced  them." 

In  a  short  time  the  little  chai)el  could  not  contain 
the  hearers  who  crowded  to  it.  The  Council  of  Wit- 
tcmberg  then  made  choice  of  Luther  for  their  preacher, 
and  appointed  him  to  preach  in  the  town  chm-ch.  The 
impression  which  he  produced  here  was  stiU  greater. 
The  power  of  his  genius,  the  eloquence  of  his  diction, 
and  the  excellence  of  the  doctrines  which  he  an- 
nounced, equally  astonished  his  hearers.    His  reputa- 


HISTORY  OF  THE  KEFOEMATION. 


tion  spread  far  aud   wide,  aud  Frederick  the  "Wise 
liimsclf  ouce  came  to  "Wittemberg  to  hear  him. 

Luther  had  commenced  a  new  life.  Tlie  uselessncss 
of  the  cloister  had  been  succeeded  by  great  activity. 
The  liberty,  the  labour,  the  constant  activity  to  which 
lie  could  devote  himself  at  Wittemberg,  completely 
restored  his  internal  harmony  and  peace.  He  was  now 
in  his  place,  and  the  work  of  God  was  soon  to  exhibit 
its  majestic  step. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

''  >nvent  on  the  P6— Sickness  at  Bologna — Reniem- 
ilnrstitioiis  Devotion— Profancness  of  the  Clergy 
"iilcrs  in  Rome— Biblical  Studies— Pilate's  Stair— 
h  ana  on  the  Reformation— The  Gate  of  Paradise 


LuTllER  was  teaching  both  in  his  .academic  chair  aud 
in  the  church,  when  his  labours  were  interrupted.  In 
1510,  or,  according  to  some,  not  till  1511  or  1512,  he 
was  sent  to  Eome.  Seven  convents  of  his  order  hav- 
ing differed  on  certain  iioints  with  the  vicai'-general, 
the  activity  of  Luther's  mind,  the  power  of  his  elo- 
quence, and  his  talent  for  discussion,  made  him  be 
selected  to  plead  the  cause  of  these  seven  monasteries 
before  the  ])ci]io.  This  Divine  dispensation  was  neces- 
sary to  Luthur.  for  it  was  r^Miuisite  that  he  should 
know  Rome.  Full  of  the  prejudices  and  illusions  of 
the  cloister,  he  had  always  represented  it  to  himself  as 
the  seat  of  holiness. 

He  accordingly  set  out  and  crossed  the  Alps ;  but 
scarcely  had  he  descended  into  the  plains  of  rich  aud 
voluptuous  Italy,  than  he  found  at  every  step  subjects 
of  astonishment  and  scandal.  The  poor  German 
monk  was  received  in  a  i-ich  comcut  of  Benedictines, 
situated  upon  the  P6  in  Lombardy.  This  convent 
liad  thirty-six  thousand  ducats  of  revenue.  Of  these, 
twelve  thousand  were  devoted  to  the  table,  twelve 
thousand  to  the  buildings,  and  twelve  thousand  to  the 
other  wants  of  the  monks.  The  gorgeousuess  of  the 
apartments,  the  beauty  of  the  dresses,  and  the  rarities 
of  the  table,  all  astonished  Luther.  Marble  and  silk, 
and  luxury  under  all  its  forms  !  How  now  the  sight  to 
the  humble  friar  of  the  poor  convent  of  Wittemberg  ! 
He  was  astonished  and  said  nothing ;  but  when  Frid.ay 
came,  how  surprised  was  he  to  see  abundance  of  meat 
still  covering  the  table  of  the  Benedictines.  Then  he 
resolved  to  speak  out.  "  The  Church  and  the  pope," 
said  he  to  them,  "■  forbid  such  things."  The  Benedic- 
tines were  indignant  at  this  reprimand  from  the  rude 
German ;  but  Luther  having  insisted,  and  perhaps 
threatened  to  make  their  disorders  known,  some  of 
tliein  thought  that  the  simplest  plan  was  to  get  rid  of 
their  troublesome  guest.  The  porter  of  the  convent 
having  warned  him  that  he  ran  a  risk  in  staying  longer, 
he  made  his  escape  from  this  epicurean  monastery,  and 
arrived  at  Bologna,  where  he  fell  dangerously  sick. 
Some  have  seen  in  this  sickness  the  effects  of  poison  ; 
but  it  is  simpler  to  suppose  that  it  was  the  effect  which 
a  change  of  living  produced  in  the  frugal  monk  of 
AVittemberg,  whose  principal  food  was  wont  to   be 


bread  and  herrings.  This  sickness  was  not  to  be  unto 
death ;  but  for  the  glory  of  God.  Luther's  constitu- 
tional sadness  and  depression  again  overpowered  him. 
To  die  thus  far  from  Germany,  under  this  burning  sky 
in  a  foreign  land,  what  a  fate !  The  agonies  which  he 
had  felt  at  Erfurt  returned  with  all  their  force.  The 
conviction  of  his  sins  troubled,  while  the  prospect  of 
the  judgment-seat  of  God  terrified  him.  But  at  the 
moment  when  these  terrors  were  at  the  worst,  the 
passage  of  St.  Paul  which  had  struck  him  at  Wittem- 
berg, "The  just  shall  live  by  faith,"  (Rom.  i.  17,)  pre- 
sented itself  to  his  mind,  and  illumined  his  soul  as 
with  a  ray  of  light  from  heaven.  Revived  and  com- 
forted, he  soon  recovered  his  health,  and  resumed  his 
journey  to  Rome,  expecting  he  should  there  find  quite 
a  different  life  from  fliat  of  the  Lombard  convents,  and 
impatient  by  the  sight  of  Roman  holiness  to  efface  the 
sad  impressions  which  had  been  left  ui)on  his  mind  by 
his  residence  on  the  P6. 

At  length,  after  a  2">ainful  journey  under  the  burning 
sky  of  Italy  in  the  beginning  of  summer,  he  drew  near 
to  the  city  of  the  seven  hills.  His  heart  was  moved, 
and  his  eyes  looked  for  the  queen  of  the  world,  and  of 
the  Church.  As  soon  as  he  obtained  a  distant  view  of 
the  eternal  city,  the  city  of  St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul,  aud 
the  metropolis  of  Catholicism,  he  threw  himself  on  the 
ground,  exclaiming,  "  Holy  Rome,  I  salute  thee ! " 

Luther  is  in  Rome ;  the  professor  of  Wittemberg  is 
in  the  midst  of  the  eloquent  ruins  of  the  Rome  of  the 
consuls  and  emperors — the  Rome  of  the  confessors  and 
martyrs.  Here  lived  that  Plautus  aud  Virgil  whose 
works  he  had  taken  with  him  into  the  cloister,  and  all 
those  great  men  whose  exploits  had  always  caused  his 
heart  to  beat.  He  perceives  their  statues,  and  the 
wrecks  of  monuments  which  attest  their  glory.  But 
all  this  glory  aud  all  this  power  are  past,  and  his  foot 
treads  on  their  dust.  At  every  step  he  calls  to  miud 
the  sad  forebodings  of  Scipio  shedding  tears  at  the 
sight  of  Carthage  in  ruins,  its  burned  palaces  and  bro- 
ken walls,  and  exclaiming,  "  Thus,  too,  will  it  be 
with  Rome  !"  "  And  in  fact,"  says  Luther,  "  the  Rome 
of  the  Scii)ios  aud  Cajsars  has  been  changed  into  a 
corpse.  Such  is  the  quantity  of  ruins,  that  the  fouu- 
diitions  of  the  modern  houses  rest  upon  the  roofs  of  the 
old.  There,"  added  he,  casting  a  melancholy  look  on 
the  ruins,  "there  were  the  riches  and  treasures  of  the 
world."  All  this  rubbish,  which  he  strikes  with  his 
foot,  tells  Luther,  within  the  walls  of  Rome  herself, 
that  what  is  strongest  in  the  eyes  of  men,  is  easily 
destroyed  by  the  breath  of  the  Lord. 

But  he  remembers  that  with  profane  ashes  holy 
ashes  are  mingled.  The  burial-place  of  the  martyrs 
is  not  far  from  that  of  the  generals  and  triumphing 
heroes  of  Rome;  and  Christian  Rome,  with  her  suffer- 
ings, has  more  power  over  the  heart  of  the  Saxon 
monk  than  Pagan  Rome  with  her  glory.  It  was  here 
the  letter  arrived  in  which  Paul  wrote,  "The  just  is 
justified  III  faith;"  and  not  far  off  is  the  Appii  Forum 
and  the  Three  Taverns.  There  was  the  house  of  Nar- 
cissus— here  the  palace  of  Ca3sar,  where  the  Lord 
delivered  the  apostle  from  the  mouth  of  the  lion.  Oh, 
what  fortitude  these  recollections  give  to  the  heart  of 
the  monk  of  Wittemberg ! 

Rome  then  presented  a  very  different  aspect.     The 


PROFANITY  OF  THE  CLERGY. 


pontifical  chair  was  occupied  by  the  warlike  Julius  II., 
and  not  by  Leo  X.,  as  it  has  been  said  by  some  dis- 
tinguished historians  of  Germany,  no  doubt  through 
oversight.  Luther  often  told  an  anecdote  of  this  pope. 
When  news  was  brought  him  of  the  defeat  of  his  army 
by  the  French  before  Kavcniui,  lie  was  reading  his 
Hours.  He  dashed  the  book  upon  the  ground,  and 
said,  with  a  dreadful  oath,  "Very  well,  so  you  have 
tui'ned  Frenchman.  Is  this  the  way  in  which  you 
protect  your  Church  ?"  Then,  turning  in  the  direction 
of  the  country  to  whose  aid  he  meant  to  have  recoiu-se, 
lie  exclaimed,  "Holy  Switzer,  pray  for  us !"  Ignorance, 
levity,  and  dissoluteness,  a  profane  spirit,  a  contempt 
of  all  that  is  sacred,  and  a  shameful  traflic  in  divine 
things ; — such  was  the  spectacle  which  that  unhappy 
city  presented  ;  and  yet  the  pious  monk  continued  for 
some  time  in  his  illusions. 

Having  arrived  about  the  feast  of  St.  John,  he  hears 
the  Romans  about  him  repeating  a  proverb  which  was 
then  common  among  the  people :  "  Happy,"  said  they, 
"  is  the  mother  whose  son  says  a  mass  on  the  eve  of 
St.  John."  "  Oh  !  how  I  could  like  to  make  my  mother 
happy!"  said  Luther.  The  pious  son  of  Margaret 
accordingly  sought  to  say  a  mass  on  that  day,  but 
could  not ;  the  press  was  too  great. 

Ardent  and  simple-hearted,  he  went  up  and  down, 
visiting  all  the  churches  and  chapels,  believing  all  the 
lies  that  were  told  him,  and  devoutly  performing  the 
requisite  acts  of  holiness ;  happy  in  being  able  to  do  so 
many  pious  works,  which  were  denied  to  his  country- 
men. "  Oh !  how  much  I  regret,"  said  the  pious  Ger- 
man to  himself,  "  that  my  father  and  mother  are  still 
alive !  What  delight  I  should  have  had  in  delivering 
them  from  the  fire  of  purgatory,  by  my  masses,  my 
prayers,  and  many  other  admirable  works !"  He  had 
found  the  light,  but  the  darkness  was  still  far  from 
being  entirely  banished  from  his  understanding.  His 
heart  was  changed,  but  his  mind  was  not  fully  enlight- 
ened. He  possessed  faith  and  love,  but  not  knowledge. 
It  was  work  of  no  small  difficulty  to  escape  from  the 
dark  night  which  had  for  so  many  ages  covered  the  earth. 

Luther  repeatedly  said  mass  at  Rome,  taking  care  to 
do  it  with  all  the  unction  and  dignity  which  the  service 
seemed  to  him  to  require.  But  how  grieved  was  the 
heart  of  the  Saxon  monk,  at  seeing  the  profane  for- 
mality of  the  Roman  priests  in  celebrating  the  sacra- 
ment of  the  altar !  The  priests,  on  their  part,  laughed 
at  his  simplicity.  One  day  when  he  was  officiating,  he 
found  that  at  the  altar  next  to  him  seven  masses  had 
been  read  before  he  got  through  a  single  one.  "  Get 
on,  get  on,"  cried  one  of  the  priests  to  him ;  "  make 
haste,  and  send  Our  Lady  back  her  Son," — making  an 
impious  allusion  to  the  trausubstantiation  of  the  bread 
into  the  body  and  blood  of  Jesus  Christ.  On  another 
occasion,  Luther  had  only  got  as  far  as  the  Gospel, 
when  the  priest  beside  him  had  finished  the  whole 
mass.  "  On,  on !"  said  his  companion ;  "  make  haste, 
make  haste ;  are  yc  ever  to  have  done  V 

His  astonishment  was  still  greater  when,  in  the 
dignitaries  of  the  Church,  he  discovered  the  same 
thing  that  he  had  found  in  common  priests.  He  had 
hoped  better  of  them. 

It  was  fashionable  at  the  papal  court  to  attack 
Christianity;   and,  in  order  to  pass  for  a  complete 


gentleman,  absolutely  necessary  to  hold  some  erroneous 
or  heredcal  opinion  on  the  doctrines  of  the  Church. 
AVlien  Erasmus  was  at  Rome,  they  had  attempted  to 
pro\c  to  him,  by  passages  from  Pliny,  that  there  was 
no  difference  between  the  soul  of  man  and  that  of  the 
brutes;  and  young  courtiers  of  the  ijopc  maintained 
that  the  orthodox  faith  was  merely  the  result  of  crafty 
inventions  by  some  saints. 

Luther's  employment,  as  envoy  of  the  Augustines  of 
Gciniany,  caused  him  to  be  invited  to  several  meetings 
of  •li^iinuiii-Iicd  ecclesiastics.  One  day,  in  particular, 
111'  li:i|i|i.iir(l  Id  be  at  table  with  several  prelates,  who 
traiikl)-  i\liiliiled  themselves  to  him  in  their  mounte- 
bank manuors  and  profane  conversation,  and  did  not 
scruple  to  commit  a  thousand  follies  in  his  presence, 
no  doubt  believing  him  to  be  of  the  same  spirit  as 
themselves.  Among  other  things  they  related,  in  pre- 
sence of  the  monk,  laughing  and  making  a  boast  of  it, 
how,  when  they  were  saying  mass,  instead  of  the  sacra- 
mental words,  which  should  transform  the  bread  and 
wine  into  the  Saviour's  flesh  and  blood,  they  parodied 
them,  and  said,  "P«h!S  es,  et  pmm  manehis ;  vinum  es, 
et  vinum  manehis,'' — "  Bread  thou  art,  and  bread  wilt 
remain ;  wine  thou  art,  and  wine  wilt  remain."  Then, 
continued  they,  we  raise  the  ostensoriiim,  and  all  the 
people  worship  it.  Luther  could  scarcely  believe  his 
ears.  His  spii-it,  which  was  lively,  and  even  gay  in  the 
society  of  his  friends,  was  all  gravity  when  sacred 
things  were  in  question.  He  was  scandalized  at  the 
profane  pleasantries  of  Rome.  "I  was,"  said  he,  "a 
young  monk,  grave  and  pious,  and  these  words  dis- 
tressed me  greatly.  If  they  speak  thus  in  Rome  at 
table,  freely  and  publicly,  thought  I  to  myself,  what 
will  it  be  if  their  actions  correspond  to  their  words,  and 
if  all — pope,  cardinals,  corn-tiers — say  mass  in  the  same 
style?  And  I,  who  have  devoutly  heard  so  large  a 
number  read,  how  must  I  have  been  deceived!" 

Luther  often  mingled  with  the  monks  and  the  citizens 
of  Rome.  If  some  extolled  the  pope  and  his  court,  the 
great  majority  gave  free  utterance  to  their  complaints 
and  their  sarcasms.  What  tales  they  told  of  the  reign- 
ing pope,  of  Alexander  VI.,  and  of  many  others !  One 
day  his  Roman  friends  told  him  how  Ccesar  Borgia, 
after  having  fled  from  Rome,  was  apprehended  in 
Spain.  When  they  were  going  to  try  him,  he  pleaded 
guilty  in  prison,  and  requested  a  confessor.  A  monk 
having  been  sent,  he  slew  him,  and,  wi-apping  himself 
up  in  his  cloak,  made  his  escape.  "  I  heard  that  at 
Rome,  and  it  is  quite  certain,"  said  Luther.  One  day 
passing  through  a  public  street  which  led  to  St.  Peter's, 
he  stopped  in  amazement  before  a  statue,  representing 
a  pope  under  the  form  of  a  woman  holding  a  sceptre, 
clad  in  the  papal  mantle,  and  carrying  an  infant  in  her 
arms.  It  is  a  gii-1  of  Mentz,  said  they  to  him,  whom 
the  cardinals  chose  for  pope,  and  who  had  a  child  at 
this  spot.  Hence  no  pope  e^er  passes  through  this 
street.  "I  am  astonished,"  said  Luther,  "how  the 
popes  allow  the  statue  to  remain." 

Luther  had  expected  to  find  the  edifice  of  the  Church 
in  strength  and  splendour,  but  its  gates  were  forced, 
and  its  walls  consumed  with  fire.  He  saw  the  desola- 
tions of  the  sanctuary,  and  started  back  in  dismay. 
He  had  dreamed  of  nothing  but  holiness,  and  he  dis- 
covered nothing  but  profanation. 


5G 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


He  was  not  less  struck  with  tlic  disorders  outside 
the  chiu-ches.  "  The  Roman  police,"  says  he,  "  is 
strict  and  severe.  The  judge  or  captain  every  night 
makes  a  round  of  the  town  on  horseback,  with  three 
hundred  attendants,  and  arrests  every  person  he  finds 
in  the  streets.  If  he  meets  any  one  armed,  he  hangs 
him  up,  or  throws  him  into  the  Tiber ;  and  yet  the 
city  is  full  of  disorder  and  murder ;  whereas,  when  the 
Word  of  God  is  purely  and  rightly  taught,  peace  and 
order  are  seen  to  reign,  and  there  is  no  need  of  law 
aud  its  severities."  "  It  is  almost  incredible  what  sins 
and  infamous  actions  are  committed  at  Rome,"  says 


he,  on  another  occasion ;  "  one  would  require  to  see  it 
and  hear  it  in  order  to  believe  it.  Hence,  it  is  an  or- 
dinary saying,  that  if  there  is  a  hell,  Rome  is  built 
upon  it.  It  is  an  abyss  from  whence  all  sins  proceed." 
This  sight  made  a  strong  impression  on  Luther's 
mind  at  the  time,  and  the  impression  was  deepened  at 
a  later  period.  "  The  nearer  wo  approach  Rome  the 
more  bad  Christians  we  find,"  said  he  several  years 
after.  "  There  is  a  common  saying,  that  he  who  goes 
to  Rome,  the  first  time  seeks  a  rogue,  the  second  time 
finds  him,  and  the  third  time  brings  him  away  with 
him  in  his  own  person ;  but  now  people  are  become  so 


skilful,  that  they  make  all  the  three  journeys  in  cue." 
A  genius,  one  of  the  most  unhappily  celebrated,  but 
also  one  of  the  most  profound  of  Italy,  Machiavelli, 
who  was  living  at  Florence  when  Luther  passed 
through  it  on  his  way  to  Rome,  has  made  the  same 
remark, — "The  strongest  symptom,"  says  he,  "of  the 
approaching  ruin  of  Christianity  [he  means  Roman 
Catholicism]  is,  that  the  nearer  you  come  to  the  capi- 
tal of  Christendom,  the  less  you  find  of  the  Christian 
spirit.  The  scandalous  examples  and  crimes  of  the 
court  of  Rome  are  the  cause  why  Italy  has  lost  every 
principle  of  piety  and  all  religious  sentiment.  We 
Italians,"  continues  the  great  historian,  "  are  chiefly 
indebted  to  the  Church  and  the  priests  for  our  hav- 
ing become  a  set  of  profane  scoundrels."  At  a  later 
period  Luther  was  fully  aware  how  much  he  had 
gained   by  his  joiu-ney.     "I  would  not  take  a  hun- 


dred thousand  florins,"  said  he,  "  not  to  have  seen 
Rome." 

The  journey  was  also  of  the  greatest  advantage  to 
him  in  a  literary  view.  Like  Reuchlin,  Luther  availed 
himself  of  his  residence  in  Italy  to  penetrate  further 
into  the  knowledge  of  the  Holy  Scriptures.  He  took 
lessons  in  Hebrew  from  a  celebrated  rabbi,  named  Elias 
Levita ;  and  thus,  at  Rome,  partly  acquired  the  know- 
ledge of  that  Divine  Word  under  whose  blows  Rome 
was  destined  to  fall. 

But  there  was  another  respect  in  which  the  journey 
was  of  great  importance  to  Luther.  Not  only  was  the 
veil  torn  away,  and  the  sardonic  smile,  and  mounte- 
bank infidelity  which  lurked  behind  the  Roman  super- 
stitions, revealed  to  the  future  reformer;  but,  more- 
over, the  living  faith  which  God  had  implanted  in  him 
was  powerfully  strengthened. 


LUTHER  ON  PILATE'S  STAIK. 


57 


We  have  seen  Low  he  at  first  entered  devotedly  into 
all  the  vain  observances,  to  which,  as  a  price,  the 
Church  has  annexed  the  expiation  of  sins.  One  day, 
among  others,  wishing  to  gain  an  indulgence  which  the 
pope  had  promised  to  every  one  who  should  on  his 
knees  climb  up  what  is  called  Pilate's  Stair,  the  Saxon 
monk  was  humbly  crawling  up  the  steps,  which  ho  was 
told  had  been  miraculously  trausportcd  to  Rome  from 
Jerusalem.  But  while  he  was  engaged  in  this  meri- 
torious act,  he  thought  he  heard  a  voice  of  thunder, 
•nhich  ciied  it  the  bottom  of  hi->  liciit,  is  it  AViltcni- 
berg  and  15olo<ru  \  '•  I li  in  t  f/i  <//  Inc  hf  faith  llic=e 
word  ■\\hi(h  li  I  1  ill  il\  on  tno  diffeient  oecaMons 
BtrucI  lumlil     Ih    \    1        t   man   ilcfGid  icouuhl 


loudly  and  incessantly  within  him.  He  rises  up  in 
amazement  from  the  steps,  along  which  he  was  drag- 
ging his  body.  Horrified  at  himself,  and  .ashamed  to 
see  how  far  superstition  has  abased  him,  he  flies  far 
from  the  scene  of  his  folly. 

In  regard  to  this  mighty  word  there  is  something 
mysterious  in  the  life  of  Luther.  It  proved  a  creating 
word  both  for  the  Kcformer  and  for  the  Reformation. 
It  was  by  it  that  God  then  said,  "  Let  light  be,  and 

It  i'5  often  neoe^'iarj  that  i  truth,  in  order  to  produce 
Its  due  effect  on  the  miiul  must  be  repeatedly  presented 
to  It  J  iithei  1m  1  (  II  tull\  =tuli  1  the  Epistle  to  the 
Pi     11       Ill^    I    il     I   h  M  11       11    1  bv  faith  is  there 


lit,  he  had  never  seen  it  'o  clearl}  Now  he  com- 
prehends the  r.gLte.-Jsness  ^LicL  alo..e  ca..  sta..J  ... 
the  presence  of  God ;  now  he  receives  from  God  him- 
self, by  the  hand  of  Christ,  that  obedience  which  he 
freely  imputes  to  the  sinner  as  soon  as  he  humbly  turns 
his  eye  to  the  God-Man  who  was  crucified.  'This  is 
the  decisive  period  in  the  internal  life  of  Luther.  The 
faith  which  has  saved  him  from  the  terrors  of  death, 
becomes  the  soul  of  his  theology,  his  fortress  in  all 
dangers,  the  stamina  of  his  discourse,  the  stimulant  of 
his  love,  the  foundation  of  his  peace,  the  spur  of  his 
labours,  his  consolation  in  life  and  in  death. 

But  this  great  doctrine  of  a  salvation  which  emanates 
from  God,  and  not  from  man,  was  not  only  the  power 
of  God  to  save  the  soul  of  Luther,  it  also  became  the 
power  of  God  to  reform  the  Church ;— a  powerful 
weapon  which  the  apostles  wielded,  a  weapon  too  long 
neglected,  but  at  length  brought  forth,  in  its  primitive 
lustre,  from  the  arsenal  of  the  mighty  God.     At  the 


moment  when  Luther  stood  up  in  Rome,  all  moved  and 
tl.i.ll..^g  ■\\^tL  the  -v^urJs  -nL.cL  Paal  had  addressed, 
fifteen  centuries  before,  to  the  inhabitants  of  this 
metropolis,  truth,  till  then  a  fettered  captive  within 
the  Church,  rose  up  also,  never  again  to  fall. 

Here  we  must  let  Luther  speak  for  himself.  "  Al- 
though I  was  a  holy  and  irreproachable  monk,  my 
conscience  was  full  of  trouble  and  anguish.  I  could 
not  bear  the  words,  '  Justice  of  God.'  I  loved  not  the 
just  and  holy  God  who  punishes  sinners.  I  was  filled 
with  secret  rage  against  Him  and  hated  Him,  because, 
not  satisfied  with  terrifying  us,  His  miserable  creatures, 
already  lost  by  original  sin,  with  His  law  and  the 
miseries  of  life.  He  still  further  increased  our  torment 
by  the  Gospel.  .  .  .  But  when,  by  the  Spirit  of 
God,  I  comprehended  these  words ;  when  I  learned 
how  the  sinner's  justification  pi'oceeds  from  the  pure 
mercy  of  the  Lord  by  means  of  faith,  then  I  felt  myself 
revive  like  a  new  man,  and  entered  at  open  doors  into 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


the  very  paradise  of  God.  From  that  time,  also,  I 
bclield  the  precious  sacred  vohime  with  new  eyes.  I 
wcut  over  all  the  Bible,  and  collected  a  great  number 
of  passages,  which  taught  me  what  the  work  of  God 
was.  And  as  I  had  previously,  with  all  my  heart, 
hated  the  words,  '  Justice  of  God,'  so  from  that  time  I 
began  to  esteem  and  love  them,  as  words  most  sweet 
and  most  consoling.  In  truth,  these  words  were  to  me 
the  true  gate  of  paradise." 

Accordingly,  when  called  on  solemn  occasions  to 
confess  this  doctrine,  Luther  always  manifested  his 
enthusiasm  and  rude  energy.  "  I  see,"  said  he,  on  a 
critical  occasion,  "  that  the  devil  is  incessantly  attack- 
ing this  fundamental  article,  by  the  instrumentality  of 
his  doctors,  and  that,  in  this  respect,  he  cannot  rest  or 
take  any  repose.  Very  well,  I,  Doctor  Martin  Luther, 
unworthy  evangelist  of  om-  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  hold 
this  article — that  faith  alone,  without  works,  justifies  in 
the  siijht  of  God ;  and  I  declare,  that  the  emperor  of  the 
Romans,  the  empei-or  of  the  Turks,  the  emperor  of  the 
Tartars,  the  emperor  of  the  Persians,  the  pope,  all  the 
cardinals,  bishops,  priests,  monks,  nuns,  princes,  and 
nobles,  all  men  and  all  devils,  must  let  it  stand,  and 
allow  it  to  remain  for  ever.  If  they  will  undertake  to 
combat  this  truth,  they  will  bring  down  the  flames  of 
hell  upon  their  heads.  This  is  the  true  and  holy  Gospel, 
and  the  declaration  of  me,  Doctor  Luther,  according 

to  the  liglit  of  the  Holy  Spirit Nobody,"" 

continues  he,  "has  died  for  our  sins  but  Jesus  Christ 
the  Son  of  God.  I  repeat  it  once  more ;  should  the 
world  and  all  the  devils  tear  each  other,  and  burst 
with  fury,  this  is,  nevertheless,  true.  And  if  it  be  Ho 
alone  who  takes  away  sin,  it  cannot  be  ourselves  with 
our  works ;  but  good  works  follow  redemption,  as  the 
fruit  appears  on  the  tree.  This  is  our  doctrine ;  and 
it  is  the  doctrine  which  the  Holy  Spirit  teaches  with 
all  true  Christians.  We  maintain  it  in  the  name  of 
God.     Amen." 

It  was  thus  Luther  found,  what  all  doctors  and 
reformers,  even  the  most  distinguished,  had,  to  a  certain 
degree  at  least,  failed  to  discover.  It  was  in  Rome 
that  God  gave  him  this  clear  view  of  the  fundamental 
doctrine  of  Christianity.  He  had  come  to  the  city  of 
the  pontiffs  seeking  the  solution  of  some  difficulties 
relative  to  a  monastic  order,  and  he  carried  away  in  his 
heart  the  safety  of  the  Church. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Ectuni— Doctor's  Degreo—Carlstadt— Luther's  Oatli— Principle  of  Refonu 
—Luther's  Courage— First  Views  ot  Eefonuatiou— The  Schooliueu  — 
Spalatin— Affair  of  EeucUin. 

LuTiiER  quitted  Rome  and  returned  to  "Wittemberg,  his 
heart  full  of  sadness  and  indignation.  Turning  away 
his  eyes  in  disgust  from  the  pontifical  city,  he  directed 
them  in  hope  to  tlie  Holy  Scriptures,  and  to  that  new 
light  of  which  the  word  of  God  seemed  then  to  give 
promise  to  the  world.  Tliis  word  gained  in  his  heart 
all  that  the  Church  lost  in  it.     He  detached  himself 


from  the  one,  and  turned  towards  the  other.  The 
whole  Reformation  was  in  that  movement.  It  put  God 
where  the  priest  had  hitherto  been. 

Staupitz  and  the  elector  did  not  lose  sight  of  the 
monk  whom  they  had  called  to  the  university  of  Wit- 
temberg. It  would  seem  that  the  vicar-general  had  a 
presentiment  of  the  work  that  was  to  be  done  in  the 
world,  and,  feeling  it  too  much  for  himself,  wished  to 
m-ge  on  Luther.  There  is  nothing  more  remarkable, 
and  perhaps  more  mysterious,  than  this  personage,  who 
is  ever  found  hurrying  on  the  monk  into  the  path  to 
which  God  calls  him ;  and  who  himself  ultimately  goes 
and  sadly  ends  his  days  in  a  convent.  The  preaching 
of  the  young  professor  had  made  an  impression  on  the 
prince.  He  had  admired  the  vigour  of  his  intellect,  the 
nervousness  of  his  eloquence,  and  the  excellence  of  his 
expositions.  The  elector  and  his  friend,  wishimj  to 
advance  a  man  who  gave  such  high  hopes,  resolved  to 
make  him  take  the  honourable  degree  of  Doctor  of 
Divinity.  Staupitz  repairing  to  the  convent,  led  Luther 
into  the  garden,  and  there  alone  with  him,  under  a  tree 
which  Luther  was  afterwards  fond  of  shewing  to  his 
disciples,  the  venerable  father  said  to  him — "  It  is  now 
necessary,  my  friend,  that  you  become  a  doctor  of  the 
Holy  Scriptures."  Luther  recoiled  at  the  idea;  the 
high  honour  frightened  him.  "  Look  out,"  replied  he, 
"  for  a  more  worthy  person ;  as  for  me,  I  cannot  con- 
sent to  it."  The  vicar-general  insisted,  "The  Lord 
God  has  much  to  do  in  the  Church,  and  has  need  at 
present  of  young  and  vigorous  doctors."  These  words, 
adds  Melancthon,  were  perhaps  used  half  in  jest,  and 
3'et  the  event  realized  them.  Many  omens  ordinarily 
precede  great  revolutions.  It  is  not  necessary  to  sup- 
pose that  Melancthon  here  speaks  of  miraculous  predic- 
tions. The  most  incredulous  age — that  which  preceded 
our  own — saw  this  sentiment  verified.  There  was  no 
miracle ;  and  yet  how  many  presages  announced  the 
revolution  with  which  it  closed  ? 

"But  I  am  weak  and  sickly,"  replied  Luther,  "and 
have  not  long  to  live.  Seek  a  strong  man."  "The 
Lord,"  replied  the  vicar-general,  "  has  work  in  heaven 
as  well  as  on  the  earth ;  dead  or  alive,  God  has  need 
of  you  in  His  counsel." 

"  None  but  the  Holy  Spirit  can  make  a  doctor  of 
theology,"  exclaimed  the  monk,  still  more  alarmed. 
"Do  what  your  convent  asks,"  said  Staupitz,  "and 
what  I,  your  vicar-general,  command.  You  promise  to 
obey  us."  "But  my  poverty,"  replied  the  friar.  "I 
have  no  means  of  paying  the  expenses  attendant  on 
such  promotion."  "  Give  yourself  no  trouble  about 
them,"  said  his  friend.  "The  prince  has  been  gra- 
ciously pleased  to  take  all  the  expenses  on  himself." 
Luther,  thus  urged,  saw  it  his  duty  to  yield. 

This  was  towards  the  end  of  the  summer  of  1512. 
Luther  set  out  for  Leipsic  to  receive  the  money  neces- 
sary for  his  promotion  from  the  elector's  treasures. 
But  according  to  the  usages  of  courts,  the  money  came 
not.  The  friar,  getting  impatient,  would  have  left,  but 
monastic  obedience  detained  him.  At  length,  on  the 
4th  of  October,  he  received  lifty  florins  from  Pfeffinger 
and  John  Doltzig,  and  gave  them  his  receipt  for  it,  in 
which  he  designates  himself  merely  as  a  monk.  "I, 
Martin,"  says  he,  "  friar  of  the  order  of  Eremites." 
Luther  hastened  back  to  Wittemberg. 


LUTHER'S  OATH. 


Andrew  Boilcnstein  was  then  Dcnn  of  the  Fiiculty 
of  Theology,  aud  is  best  known  under  the  name  of 
Carlstadt,  being  that  of  liis  native  town.  He  was  also 
culled  A.  IJ.  C.  It  was  Melancthoa  who  iirst  gave 
him  this  designation,  which  is  taken  from  the  three 
initial  letters  of  his  name.  Bodonstein  acquired  the 
first  elements  of  litoranu-o  in  hi-<  native  jilace.  lie  was 
of  a  grave  and  gloniny  iri;i|Mi-.  (Ki-haps  inclined  to 
jealousy,  and  of  a  rr-il(>~  iniillnt,  caiicrly  bent,  how- 
ever, on  acquiring  kn.iu  Inlur.  aihl  ondnucd  with  great 
ability.  Ho  allcmli'd  <lil'lVrriit  univursilies  in  order  to 
increase  his  ai-qiiin'mfius.  and  sliulird  theology  even 
at  Rome.  On  his  return  I'nmi  Italy  into  Germany  he 
established  himself  at  Wittemberg,  and  became  doctor 
in  divinity.  "  At  this  period,"  says  he  himself  after- 
■wiffds,  "  I  had  not  read  the  Holy  Scriptures."  This 
account  gives  a  very  just  idea  of  what  the  theology  of 
that  day  was.  Carlstadt,  besides  being  a  professor, 
was  a  canon  and  archdeacon.  This  is  the  person  who 
was,  at  a  later  period,  to  make  a  rent  in  the  Reforma- 
tion. In  Luther,  at  that  time,  he  only  saw  au  inferior, 
but  the  Augustine  soon  became  au  object  of  jealousy 
to  him.  "I  am  uot  willing,"  said  he  one  day,  "to  be 
a  smaller  man  than  Luther."  When  Carlstadt  con- 
ferred the  highest  university  degi-ee  on  his  future 
rival,  he  was  fsu-  from  foreseeing  the  celebrity  which 
the  young  professor  was  destined  to  obtain. 

On  the  18th  of  October,  1512,  Luther  was  admitted 
a  licentiate  in  theology,  and  took  the  following  oath: — 
"  I  swear  to  defend  evangelical  truth  by  every  means 
in  my  power."  The  following  day,  Bodeustein,  in  pre- 
sence of  a  numerous  assembly,  formally  delivered  to 
him  the  insignia  of  doctor  of  theology.  He  was  made 
Biblical  doctor,  not  doctor  of  sentences,  and  in  this  way 
was  called  to  devote  himself  to  the  study  of  the  Bible, 
and  not  to  that  of  human  tradition.  The  oath,  tlien, 
which  he  took  was,  as  he  relates,  to  his  well-beloved 
Holy  Scripture.  He  promised  to  preach  it  faithfully, 
to  teach  it  purely,  to  study  it  during  his  whole  life, 
and  to  defend  it  by  discussion  and  by  writing,  as  far 
as  God  should  enable  him  to  do  so. 

This  solemn  oath  was  Luther's  call  to  be  the  Re- 
former. In  laying  it  upon  his  conscience  freely  to 
seek,  and  boldly  to  announce  Christian  truth,  this  oath 
raised  the  new  doctor  above  the  narrow  limits  to  which 
his  monastic  vow  might  perhaps  have  confined  him. 
Called  by  the  university  and  by  his  sovereign,  in  the 
name  of  the  emperor,  and  of  the  See  of  Rome  itself, 
aud  bound  before  God,  by  the  most  solemn  oath,  he 
was  thenceforth  the  intrepid  herald  of  the  word  of 
life.  On  this  memorable  day  Luther  was  dubbed 
knight  of  the  Bible. 

Accordingly,  this  oath  taken  to  the  Holy  Scriptures, 
may  be  regarded  as  one  of  the  causes  of  the  renovation 
of  the  Church.  The  infaUible  authority  of  the  Word 
of  God  alone  was  the  first  aud  fundamental  principle  of 
the  Reformation.  All  the  reformations  in  detail  which 
took  place  at  a  later  period — as  reformations  in  doc- 
trine, in  manners,  in  the  goverimient  of  the  Church, 
and  in  worship — were  only  consequences  of  this  pri- 
mary principle.  One  is  scarcely  able  at  the  present 
time  to  form  an  idea  of  the  sensation  produced  by  this 
elementary  principle,  which  is  so  simple  in  itself,  but 
which  had  been  lost  sight  of  for  so  many  ages.     Some 


individuiUs  of  more  extensive  views  than  the  generality, 
alone  foresaw  its  immense  results.  The  bold  voices  of 
all  the  Reformers  soon  proclaimed  this  i)Owerfnl  prin- 
ciple, at  the  sound  of  which  Rome  is  destined  to 
crumble  away: — "Christians,  receive  no  other  doc- 
trines than  those  which  arc  founded  on  the  express 
wortls  of  Jesus  Christ,  His  apostles,  and  prophets. 
No  nuui,  no  assembly  of  doctors,  are  entitled  to  pre- 
scribe now  doctrines." 

The  situation  of  Luther  was  changed.  The  call 
which  the  Reformer  had  received  became  to  him  like 
one  of  these  extraordinary  calls  which  the  Lord  ad- 
dressed to  the  prophets  under  the  Old  Dispensation, 
and  to  the  apostles  under  the  New.  The  solemn  en- 
gagement which  he  undertook  made  so  deep  an  impres- 
sion on  his  mind,  that,  iu  the  sequel,  the  remembrance 
of  this  oath  was  sufhcient  to  console  him  amid  the 
greatest  dangers  and  the  sharpest  conflicts.  And  when 
he  saw  all  Europe  agitated,  and  shaken  by  the  word 
which  he  had  announced  ;  when  it  seemed  that  the 
accusations  of  Rome,  the  reproaches  of  many  pious 
men,  and  the  doubts  and  fears  of  his  owu  easily 
agitated  heart,  would  make  him  hesitate,  fear,  and  give 
way  to  despair,  he  called  to  mind  the  oath  which  he 
had  taken,  and  remained  firm,  tranquil,  and  full  of 
joy.  "  I  have  advanced  in  the  name  of  the  Lord,"  said 
he,  on  a  critical  occasion,  "  and  I  have  put  myself  into 
His  hands.  His  will  be  done.  Who  asked  Him  to 
make  me  a  doctor  ?  If  He  made  me,  let  Him  sustain 
me;  or  if  He  repents  of  having  made  me,  let  Him 
depose  me!  ...  .  This  tribulation  terrifies  me 
not.  I  seek  one  thing  only,  and  it  is  to  have  the  Lord 
favourable  to  me  in  all  that  He  calls  me  to  do."  An- 
other time  he  said,  "  He  who  undertakes  any  thing 
without  a  divine  call,  seeks  his  own  glory;  but  I,  Doc- 
tor Martiu  Luther,  was  compelled  to  become  a  doctor. 
Papism  sought  to  stop  me  in  the  discharge  of  my  duty, 
and  yon  see  what  has  happened  to  it ;  and  still  worse 
will  happen.  They  will  uot  be  able  to  defend  them- 
selves against  me.  I  desire,  in  the  name  of  the  Lord, 
to  tread  upon  the  lions,  and  trample  under  foot  the 
dragons  and  vipers.  This  will  commence  diu-ing  my 
life,  aud  be  finished  after  my  death." 

From  the  hour  when  he  took  the  oath,  Luther  sought 
the  truth  solely  for  itself  aud  for  the  Chiu-ch.  StiU, 
deeply  impressed  with  recollections  of  Rome,  he  saw 
indistinctly  before  him  a  course  which  he  determined 
to  pursue  with  all  the  energy  of  his  soul.  The  spiritual 
life  which  had  hitherto  been  manifested  wthiu  him 
was  now  manifested  outwardly.  This  was  the  third 
period  of  his  development.  His  entrance  into  the 
convent  had  turned  his  thoughts  towards  God:  the 
knowledge  of  the  forgiveness  of  sins  and  of  the  right- 
eousness of  faith,  had  emancipated  his  soul ;  and  his 
doctor's  oath  gave  him  that  baptism  of  fire  by  which  he 
became  the  Reformer  of  the  Church. 

His  thoughts  were  soon  directed  in  a  general  way  to 
the  subject  of  Reformation.  In  a  discourse  which  he 
had  written,  apparently  with  a  view  to  its  being 
announced  by  the  Provost  of  Litzkau,  at  the  Council 
of  Lateran,  he  affirmed  that  the  corruption  of  the 
world  was  occasioned  by  the  priests,  who,  instead  of 
preaching  the  pui-e  "W^ord  of  God,  taught  so  many 
fables  and  traditions.     According  to  him,  the  word  of 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


life  alone  had  power  to  accomplish  the  spiritual  regen- 
eration of  man.  Hence,  even  at  this  period,  he  made 
the  salvation  of  the  world  dcj^eud  on  the  re-establish- 
ment of  sound  doctrine,  and  not  on  a  mere  reformation 
of  manners.  Luther  was  not  perfectly  consistent  with 
himself ;  he  entertained  contradictory  opinions  ;  but  a 
powerful  intellect  was  displayed  in  all  his  ■m-itiugs. 
He  boldly  broke  the  links  by  which  the  systems  of  the 
schools  chained  down  human  thought,  passed  beyond 
the  limits  to  which  past  ages  had  attained,  and  formed 
new  paths  for  himself.     God  was  in  him. 

The  first  opponents  whom  he  attacked  were  those 
famous  schoolmen  whom  he  had  so  thoroughly  studied, 
and  who  then  reigned  as  sovereigns  in  all  universities. 
He  accused  them  of  Pelagianism ;  and,  forcibly  assail- 
ing Ai-istotle,  the  father  of  the  school,  and  Thomas 
Aquiuas,  undertook  to  tumble  both  of  them  from  the 
throne  on  which  they  sat, — the  one  ruling  philosophy, 
and  the  other  theology.  "Aristotle,  Porphyiy,  the 
theologians  of  sentences,"  (the  schoolmen,)  wrote  he  to 
Lange,  "  are  the  lost  studies  of  our  age.  There  is 
nothing  I  more  ardently  long  for  than  to  expose  this 
player,  who  has  sported  with  the  Church  by  wrapping 
himself  up  in  a  Greek  mask,  and  to  make  his  disgrace 
apparent  to  all."  In  all  public  disputations  he  was 
heard  to  say,  "  The  writings  of  the  apostles  and  pro- 
phets are  more  certain  and  more  sublime  than  all  the 
sophisms  and  all  the  theology  of  the  school."  Such 
sayings  were  new;  but  people  gradually  became  accus- 
tomed to  them.  About  a  year  after,  he  could  trium- 
phantly write — "God  works.  Our  theology  and  St. 
Augustine  make  wonderful  progress,  and  reign  in  our 
university.  Ai-istotle  is  on  the  decline,  and  is  already 
tottering  to  his  speedy  and  eternal  overthrow.  The 
lessons  on  the  sentences  are  admirable  for  producing  a 
yawn.  No  man  can  hope  to  have  an  audience  if  he 
does  not  profess  Biblical  theology."  Happy  the  uni- 
versity to  which  such  a  testimony  can  be  given. 

At  the  same  time  that  Luther  attacked  Aristotle,  he 
took  the  part  of  Erasmus  and  Ecuchlin  against  their 
enemies.  He  entered  into  communication  with  these 
great  men  and  others  of  the  learned,  such  as  Pirck- 
heimer,  Mutian,  and  Hiitton,  who  belonged  more  or 
less  to  the  same  party.  At  this  period  he  formed 
another  friendship  also,  which  was  of  great  importance 
to  him  during  his  whole  life. 

There  was  then  at  the  court  of  the  elector  a  man 
distinguished  for  wisdom  and  candom-,  named  George 
Spalatin.  Born  at  Spalatus,  or  Spalt,  in  the  bishopric 
of  Eichstadt,  he  had  at  first  been  curate  of  the  village 
of  Hohenkirch,  near  the  forest  of  Thuriugia,  and  was 
afterwards  selected  by  Frederick  the  "Wise  to  be  his 
secretary  and  chaplain,  and  also  tutor  to  liis  nephew, 
John  Frederick,  who  was  one  day  to  wear  the  electoral 
crown.  Spalatin  retained  his  simplicity  in  the  midst 
of  the  court.  He  appeared  timid  on  the  eve  of  great 
events,  circumspect  and  prudent,  like  his  master,  when 
contrasted  with  the  impetuous  Luther,  with  whom  he 
v,-as  in  daily  correspondence.  Like  Staupitz,  he  was 
made  for  peaceful  times.  Such  men  are  necessary, 
somewhat  resembling  those  delicate  substances  in  which 
we  -(vrap  up  gems  and  trinkets  to  protect  them  from 
injury  in  travelling.  They  seem  useless,  and  yet  with- 
out them  the  precious  jewels  would  have  been  broken 


and  destroyed.  Spalatin  was  not  fitted  to  do  great 
things,  but  he  faithfully  and  unostentatiously  acquitted 
himself  of  the  task  which  had  been  assigned  to  him. 
He  was  at  first  one  of  the  princijjal  assistants  of  his 
master  in  collecting  those  relics  of  saints,  of  which 
Frederick  was  long  an  amateur,  but  gradually,  along 
with  the  prince,  turned  toward  the  truth.  The  faith 
which  was  then  re-appearing  in  the  Church  did  not 
take  the  firm  hold  of  him  that  it  did  of  Luther.  He 
proceeded  at  a  slower  pace.  He  became  Luther's 
friend  at  court ;  the  minister  through  whom  all  affairs 
between  the  Reformer  and  the  princes  were  transacted, 
the  mediator  between  the  Chiu-ch  and  the  State.  The 
elector  honoured  Spalatin  with  his  friendship  ;  when  on 
a  journey  they  always  travelled  in  the  same  carriage. 
In  other  respects,  the  air  of  the  court  often  half 
suffocated  the  good  chaplain.  He  took  fits  of  melan- 
choly, and  would  have  liked  to  quit  all  his  honours, 
and  be  again  a  simple  pastor  in  the  woods  of  Thur- 
ingia ;  but  Luther  consoled  him,  and  exhorted  him  to 
remain  firm  at  his  post.  Spalatin  acquired  general 
esteem ;  the  princes  and  the  learned  of  his  time  testi- 
fying the  sincerest  regard  for  him.  Erasmus  said,  "  I 
inscribe  the  name  of  Spalatin  not  only  among  those  of 
my  principal  friends,  but  also  amongst  those  of  my 
most  venerated  patrons ;  and  this  not  on  paper,  but 
on  my  heart." 

The  affair  of  Reuchlin  and  the  monks  was  then 
making  a  great  noise  in  Germany.  The  most  pious  men 
were  often  at  a  loss  as  to  the  party  which  they  ought 
to  embrace ;  for  the  monks  wished  to  destroy  Jewish 
books  which  contained  blasphemies  against  Christ. 
The  doctor  of  Wittemberg  being  now  in  high  repute, 
the  elector  ordered  his  chaplain  to  consult  him  on  this 
subject.  The  following  is  Luther's  reply.  It  is  the 
first  letter  which  he  addressed  to  the  preacher  of 
the  court : — 

"  What  shall  I  say?  These  monks  pretend  to  drive 
out  Beelzebub,  but  not  by  the  finger  of  God.  For  this 
I  cease  not  to  lament  and  gi'oau.  We,  Christians, 
begiu  to  be  wise  abroad,  and  we  are  void  of  sense  at 
home.  On  all  the  places  of  Jerusalem  are  blasphemies 
a  huudi-ed  times  worse  than  those  of  the  Jews.  The 
world  is  filled  witli  spiritual  idols.  Inspired  with  a 
holy  zeal,  we  should  put  away  and  destroy  these 
internal  enemies,  whereas  we  leave  the  matter  which 
is  most  pressing ;  the  devil  himself  persuading  us  to 
abandon  our  own  business  at  the  same  time  that  he 
prevents  us  from  amending  what  belongs  to  others." 


CHAPTER  VHI. 

Faitli— ropiilar  Declamations— Academical  Instraction— Moral  Purity  of 
Luther— German  Tlieology,  or  Mysticism— Tlie  Monk  Spenlein— JustiS- 
cation  by  Faith— Lutlier  on  Erasmus— Faith  and  Works— Erasmus- 
Necessity  of  Works— Practice  of  Works. 

Luther  did  not  lose  himself  in  this  quarrel.  Living 
faith  in  Christ  filled  his  heart  and  his  life.  "In  ray 
heart,"  said  he,  "  faith  in  my  Lord  Jesus  Christ  reigns 
sole,  and  sole  ought  to  reign.     He  alone  is  the  be- 


POPULAR  DECLAMATIONS. 


giiifung,  the  middle,  and  the  end,  of  all  tiic  thoughts 
which  occupy  my  mind  night  and  day."  lie  was  always 
heard  with  admiration  when  he  spoico  of  this  faith  in 
Christ,  whether  in  the  professor's  chair  or  in  the 
Church.  His  lessons  diffused  light,  and  men  were 
astonished  at  not  having  sooner  perceived  truths  which 
in  liis  mouth  appeared  so  evident.  "The  desire  of 
justifying  ourselves,"  said  he,  "is  the  source  of  all 
anguish  of  heart ;  whereas  he  who  receives  Jesus 
Christ  as  a  Savioiu-,  has  ])eace,  and  not  only  peace,  but 
purity  of  heart.  Sanotitication  of  the  heart  is  entirely 
a  fruit  of  faitli;  for  faith  is  in  us  a  divine  work, 
which  changes  us,  and  gives  us  a  new  birth,  emanating 
from  God  himself.  It  kills  Adam  in  us  by  the  Holy 
Spirit,  which  it  communicates  to  us,  giving  us  a  new 
licart,  and  making  us  new  men."  "  It  is  not  by  hollow 
speculation,"  exclaimed  he  again,  "but  by  this  practi- 
cal method  that  we  obtain  a  saving  knowledge  of 
Jesus  Christ." 

At  this  time  Luther  preached  discourses  on  the  Ten 
Commandments,  which  have  come  down  to  us  under 
the  name  of  I'opiilar  Declnmaliom.  Undoubtedly  there 
are  errors  in  them ;  for  Luther  himself  was  enlightened 
only  by  degrees.  "The  path  of  the  just  is  like  the 
shining  light,  which  shineth  more  and  more  imto  the 
perfect  day."  But  in  these  discourses  what  truth ! 
what  simplicity!  what  eloquence!  How  easy  to  con- 
ceive the  effect  which  the  new  preacher  must  have 
produced  upon  his  audience  and  his  age !  We  will 
quote  only  one  passage  taken  from  the  commencement. 

Luther  goes  up  into  the  pulpit  of  "Wittemberg,  and 
gives  out  these  words,  "  Thou  shall  have  no  other  gods 
before  me."  Then,  addressing  himself  to  the  people 
who  filled  the  church,  he  says,  "All  the  sons  of  Adam 
are  idolaters,  and  guilty  of  violating  this  First  Com- 
mandment." This  strange  assertion  no  doubt  surprises 
his  hearers.  He  must,  therefore,  justify  it,  and  accord- 
ingly proceeds, — "There  are  two  kinds  of  idolatry — 
the  one  without,  the  other  within. 

"  The  one  without  is,  when  man  worships  wood  and 
stone,  beasts  and  stars. 

"The  one  within  is,  when  man,  fearing  punishment 
or  seeking  his  ease,  does  not  give  worship  to  the  crea- 
ture, but  loves  it  internally,  and  confides  in  it. 

"  What  religion  is  this  ?  Yovi  do  not  bend  the  knee 
before  riches  and  honours,  but  you  offer  them  your 
heart,  the  noblest  part  of  you.  Ah !  you  worship 
God  with  the  body,  and  with  the  spirit  you  worship 
the  creature. 

"  This  idolatry  reigns  in  every  man  imtil  he  is  cured 
of  it  freely  by  the  faith  which  is  in  Jesus  Christ. 

"And  how  is  this  cure  performed? 

"In  this  way:  Faith  in  Christ  strips  you  of  all  con- 
fidence in  your  own  wisdom,  your  own  righteousness, 
your  own  strength.  It  tells  you,  that  if  Christ  had  not 
died  for  you,  and  so  saved  you,  neither  yourself  nor 
any  creature  coidd  have  done  it.  Then  you  learn  to 
despise  all  those  things  which  remained  useless  to 
you. 

"There  now  remains  to  you  only  Jesus — Jesus 
alone — Jesus  fully  sufficient  for  yom-  soul.  No  longer 
having  any  hopes  in  the  creatures,  you  have  now 
Christ  only,  in  whom  you  hope  all,  and  whom  you  love 
above  all.     Now  Jesus  is  the  sole,  the  only,  the  true 


God.     When  you  have  Him  for  God  you  have  no 
longer  other  gods." 

It  is  thus  Luther  shews  how,  by  the  Gospel,  the  soul 
is  brought  back  to  God,  its  sovereign  good,  agreeably 
to  the  words  of  Jesus  Ciirist,  "I  am  the  way;  no  man 
conicth  luito  the  Father  but  by  me."  The  man  who 
sjjcaks  thus  to  his  age  is  not  merely  desirous  to  over- 
tiirow  some  abuses ;  he  is,  first  of  all,  desirous  to  estab- 
lish true  religion.  His  work  is  not  negative  merely — 
it  is  primarily  positive. 

Lutlicr  afterwards  directs  his  discourse  against  the 
superstitions  with  which  Christendom  then  abounded, 
against  signs  and  mysterious  characters,  observations 
of  certain  days  and  certain  months,  familiar  demons, 
ghosts,  the  influence  of  the  stars  and  wizards,  meta- 
morphoses, incubuses  and  succubuses,  the  patronage  of 
saints,  &c.,  &c.  He  attacks  these  idols  one  after  the 
other,  and  vigorously  casts  down  these  false  gods. 

But  it  was  at  the  university  especially,  in  presence 
of  enlightened  youths,  eager  for  truth,  that  Luther  laid 
open  all  the  treasm-es  of  the  Word  of  God.  "His 
mode  of  explaining  the  Scriptures,"  says  his  illustrious 
friend,  Melancthon,  "was  such,  that  in  the  judgment 
of  all  pious  and  enlightened  men,  it  was  as  if  a  new 
light  had  risen  upon  doctrine  after  a  long  dark  night. 
He  pointed  out  the  difference  between  tlie  Law  and 
the  Gospel.  He  refuted  the  error  then  prevalent  in 
churches  and  schools,  that  men  merit  the  forgiveness 
of  sins  by  their  own  works,  and  are  rendered  righteous 
before  God  by  means  of  external  discipline.  He  thus 
brought  back  the  hearts  of  men  to  the  Sou  of  God. 
Like  John  the  Baptist,  he  pointed  to  the  Lamb  of  God, 
who  had  taken  away  the  sins  of  the  world.  He  ex- 
plained how  sins  are  pardoned  freely  for  the  sake  of 
the  Son  of  God,  and  liow  man  receives  the  blessing 
through  faith.  He  made  no  change  in  ceremonies ;  on 
the  contrary,  the  established  discipline  had  not,  in  his 
order,  a  more  faithful  observer  and  defender.  But  he 
laboured  more  aud  more  to  make  all  comprehend  the 
great  and  essential  doctrines  of  conversion,  of  the  for- 
giveness of  sins,  of  faith,  and  the  true  consolation 
which  is  to  be  found  in  the  cross.  The  pious  were 
charmed  and  penetrated  with  the  sweetness  of  this 
doctrine,  while  the  learned  received  it  gladly.  One 
would  have  said  that  Christ,  the  apostles,  and  prophets, 
were  coming  forth  from  darkness  and  a  loathsome 
dungeon." 

The  firmness  with  which  Luther  fortified  himself  by 
Scriptm-e  gave  great  authority  to  his  teaching,  while 
other  circumstances  added  to  his  power.  His  life  cor- 
responded to  his  words — his  discourses  were  not  merely 
from  the  life,  they  came  from  the  heart,  and  were 
exemplified  in  all  his  conduct.  And  when  the  Refor- 
mation biu-st  forth,  many  influential  men,  who  were 
much  grieved  at  seeing  the  rents  that  were  made  in 
the  Clmrcli,  won  over  by  the  Keformer's  pm-ity  of  con- 
duct, and  his  admirable  talents,  not  only  did  not  oppose 
him,  but  even  embraced  the  doctrine  to  which  his 
works  bore  testimony.  The  more  they  loved  Cliristian 
virtue  the  more  they  inclined  to  the  Reformer.  All 
honest  theologians  were  in  his  favour.  Such  is  the 
testimony  of  those  who  knew  him,  in  particular  of 
Melancthon,  the  wisest  man  of  his  age,  and  Erasmus, 
Luther's  celebrated  opponent.    Yet  prejudice  has  dared 


HISTORY  OF  THE  EEFORMATION. 


to  speak  of  his  debauchery.  Wittemberg  was  changed 
by  this  preaching  of  faith,  and  became  the  focus  of  a 
light  which  was  soon  to  illumine  Germany,  and  diffuse 
itself  over  aU  the  Church. 

In  1516,  Luther  published  a  treatise  by  an  anony- 
mous mystic  theologian,  (probably  Ebland,  priest  at 
Frankfort.)  entitled  •■  German  Theology,"  wherein  the 
author  shews  how  man  may  attain  perfection  by  the 
three  methods  of  piunlication,  iUumination,  and  com- 
munion. Luther  never  plunged  into  mystical  theology, 
but  he  received  a  salutary  impression  from  it.  It 
confirmed  him  in  the  disgust  which  he  felt  for  dry 
scholastics — in  his  contempt  for  the  works  and  observ- 
ances so  much  dwelt  upon  by  the  C'hm-ch — in  his 
conviction  of  man's  spiritual  impotence,  and  of  the 
necessity  of  grace — and  in  his  attachment  to  the  Bible. 
"  To  the  schoolmen,"  ^Tote  he  to  Staupitz, '- 1  prefer  the 
Mystics  and  the  Bible ;"  thus  placing  the  Mystics  by 
the  side  of  the  inspired  writers.  Perhaps  the  ••  German 
Theology  "  also  assisted  him  in  forming  a  sounder  idea 
of  the  sacraments,  and  especially  of  the  mass.  For  the 
author  of  that  work  insists  that  the  Eucharist  gives 
Christ  to  man.  but  does  not  offer  Christ  to  God. 
Luther  accompanied  this  publication  with  a  preface,  in 
which  he  declared,  that  nest  to  the  Bible  and  St. 
Augustine,  there  was  no  book  he  had  ever  met  with, 
from  which  he  had  learned  more  respecting  God, 
Christ,  man,  and  all  things.  Already  several  doctors 
had  begun  to  inveigh  against  the  Professors  of  "SVit- 
temberg,  and  to  accuse  them  of  innovation.  '•  One 
would  suppose,"  continues  Luther,  '•  that  there  never 
were  men  before  us  who  taught  as  we  do ;  yea,  verily, 
there  were.  But  the  wrath  of  God,  which  om-  sins 
have  deserved,  did  not  permit  us  to  see  them,  and  to 
hear  them.  For  a  long  time  the  universities  kept  the 
Word  of  God  lying  in  a  corner.  Let  them  read  this 
book,  and  then  teU  me  if  our  theology  is  new ;  for  this 
book  is  not  new."  But  if  Luther  took  all  the  good 
that  was  in  mystical  theology,  he  took  not  the  bad 
that  was  in  it.  The  great  error  in  mysticism  is,  to 
overlook  a  free  salvation.  "We  are  going  to  see  a 
remarkable  example  of  the  purity  of  Luther's  faith. 

Luther,  possessed  of  a  tender  and  affectionate  heart, 
was  desirous  to  see  those  whom  he  loved  in  possession 
of  the  light  which  had  guided  him  into  the  paths  of 
peace ;  and  availed  himself  of  all  the  opportunities 
which  he  had,  as  professor,  preacher,  and  monk,  as 
well  as  of  his  extensive  correspondence,  to  communi- 
cate his  treasure  to  others.  One  of  his  old  brethren  of 
the  convent  of  Erfiurt,  the  monk  George  Spenlein,  was 
then  in  the  convent  of  Memmingen.  After  having 
spent  some  time  at  Wittemberg,  Spenlein  had  asked 
the  doctor  to  sell  different  articles  which  he  had  left, — 
viz.,  a  tunic  of  Brussels  cloth,  a  work  of  a  doctor  of 
Eisenach,  and  a  monk's  frock.  Luther  carefully  exe- 
cuted this  commission.  '•  I  have  received,"  said  he  to 
Spenlein,  in  a  letter,  (7th  April,  1516,)  "a  florin  for 
the  tunic,  half  a  florin  for  the  book,  and  a  florin  for 
the  frock,  and  have  remitted  the  whole  to  the  father- 
vicar,"  to  whom  Spenlein  owed  three  florins.  But 
Luther  passes  quickly  from  this  account  of  monastic 
spoils  to  a  more  important  subject. 

"  I  should  like  much,"  says  he  to  mar  George,  "  to 
know  how  it  is  with  your  soul.    Is  it  not  weary  of  its 


own  righteousness  ? — does  it  not  breathe  at  length  and 
confide  in  the  righteousness  of  Christ?  In  our  day 
pride  seduces  many,  especially  those  who  do  their 
utmost  to  become  righteous.  Xot  comprehending  the 
righteousness  which  is  freely  given  us  of  God  in  Christ 
Jesus,  they  would  stand  before  him  by  their  merits. 
But  that  cannot  be.  "OTien  you  lived  with  us  you 
were  in  this  error,  as  I  also  was.  I  am  stiU  constantly 
fighting  with  it ;  and  have  not  yet  completely  triumphed. 

"  O  my  dear  brother,  learn  to  know"  Christ  and 
Christ  crucified.  Learn  to  sing  unto  Him  a  new  song; 
to  despair  of  thyself,  and  say,  '  Thou,  O  I^ord  Jesus ! 
thou  art  my  righteousness,  and  I  am  thy  sin !  Thou 
hast  taken  what  is  mine,  and  given  me  what  is  thine. 
What  thou  wert  not  thou  hast  become,  in  order  that 
what  I  was  not  I  might  become.'  Take  care,  0  my 
dear  George,  not  to  pretend  to  such  a  purity  as  wiU 
make  you  unwilling  to  acknowledge  yourself  a  siimer ; 
for  Christ  dwells  in  sinners  only.  He  came  down  from 
heaven,  where  he  dwelt  among  the  righteous,  that  He 
might  dwell  also  among  sinners.  Meditate  carefully 
on  this  love  of  Christ,  and  thou  wilt  derive  ineffable 
blessing  from  it.  If  our  labours  and  our  afliictions 
could  give  us  peace  of  conscience,  why  should  Christ 
have  died  ?  Thou  wilt  find  peace  only  in  Him,  by 
despairing  of  thyself  and  of  thy  works,  and  learning 
with  what  love  He  opens  His  arms  to  thee,  takes  upon 
Him  all  thy  sins,  and  gives  thee  aU  His  righteousness." 

Thus  the  powerful  doctrine  which  had  alreadv  saved 
the  world  in  the  days  of  the  Apostles,  and  which  was 
to  save  it  a  second  time  in  the  days  of  the  Eeformers, 
was  expounded  by  Luther  with  force  and  clearness. 
Stretching  over  numerous  ages  of  ignorance  and  super- 
stition, he  here  shook  hands  vrith  St.  Paul. 

Spenlein  was  not  the  only  person  whom  he  sought 
to  instruct  in  this  fundamental  doctrine.  He  felt  un- 
easy at  the  little  truth  which  he  discovered,  in  this 
respect,  in  the  ivritings  of  Erasmus.  It  was  of  import- 
ance to  enlighten  a  man  whose  authority  was  so  great, 
and  whose  genius  was  so  admirable.  But  how  was  he 
to  do  it  ?  His  friend  at  court,  the  elector's  chaplain, 
was  respected  by  Erasmus ;  and  it  is  to  him  Luther 
addresses  himself.  ■  •  My  dear  Spalatin.  the  thing  which 
displeases  me  in  Erasmus,  that  man  of  vast  erudition, 
is,  that  by  the  righteousness  of  works  or  of  the  law,  of 
which  the  apostle  speaks,  he  imderstands  the  fulfilment 
of  the  ceremonial  law.  The  justification  of  the  law 
consists  not  in  ceremonies  only,  but  in  all  the  works 
of  the  Decalogue.  "\Mien  these  works  are  performed 
■w-ithout  faith  in  Christ,  they  may,  it  is  true,  make 
Fabrieiuses,  Keguluses,  and  other  men  of  strict  in- 
tegrity in  the  eyes  of  the  world;  but  then  they  as 
little  deserve  to  be  called  righteousness,  as  the  fruit  of 
a  medlar  to  be  caDed  a  fig.  For  we  do  not  become  I 
righteous,  as  Aristotle  pretends,  by  doing  works  of 
righteousness  ;  but  when  we  have  become  righteous  we 
do  such  works.  The  man  must  first  be  changed,  and 
then  the  works.  Abel  was  first  pleasing  to  God,  and 
then  his  sacrifice."  Luther  continues :  "  I  pray  yon, 
fulfil  the  duty  of  a  friend  and  of  a  Christian,  by  mak- 
ing Erasmus  acquainted  with  those  things."  This 
letter  is  dated,  "In  haste,  from  the  corner  of  our  con- 
vent, 19th  Oct.,  1516."  It  gives  a  true  view  of  the 
footing  on  which  Luther  stood  with  Erasmus,  and 


FAITH  AND  WORKS. 


C3 


shews  the  sincere  interest  which  he  felt  in  whatever 
he  thought  truly  advantageous  to  this  distinguished 
writer.  No  doubt,  at  a  later  period,  the  opposition  of 
Erasmus  to  the  truth  forced  Luther  to  combat  him 
openly;  but  it  was  only  after  he  had  sought  to  enlighten 
his  opponent. 

At  length  those  views  on  the  nature  of  goodness 
were  propoumli'd  which  were  at  once  clear  and  pro- 
found ;  and  the  great  truth  wa.s  distinctly  proclaimed, 
that  the  real  goodness  of  a  work  consists  not  in  its 
external  form,  but  in  the  spirit  in  which  it  is  done. 
Thus  giving  a  mortal  blow  to  all  the  superstitious 
observances  which  had  for  ages  choked  the  Church, 
and  prevented  Christian  virtues  from  growing  and 
flourishing  in  it. 

"I  read  Erasmus,"  again  writes  Luther,  "but  he  is 
every  day  losing  his  credit  vnth  me.  I  like  to  see  him, 
with  so  much  skill  and  firmness,  rebuking  priests  and 
monks  for  their  loathsome  ignorance ;  but  I  fear  he 
will  not  do  great  service  to  the  doctrine  of  Jesus  Christ. 
What  is  of  man  has  more  hold  ou  his  heart  than  what 
is  of  God,  We  live  in  dangerous  times.  A  man  is 
not  a  good  and  judicious  Christian  because  he  under- 
stands Greek  and  Hebrew.  Jerome,  who  knew  five 
languages,  is  inferior  to  Augustine,  who  only  knew 
one,  though  Erasmus  thinks  differently.  I  am  very 
careful  to  conceal  my  sentiments  concerning  Erasmus, 
lest  I  should  give  an  advantage  to  his  opponents.  It 
may  be  the  Lord  will  give  him  understanding  in  His 
own  time." 

The  impotence  of  man,  and  the  omnipotence  of  God, 
were  the  two  truths  which  Lutiier  wished  to  re-estab- 
lish. It  is  a  sad  religion  and  a  sad  philosophy  which 
throws  man  back  upon  his  natural  powers.  Ages 
have  made  trial  of  these  boasted  powers ;  and  while 
man  has  of  himself  succeeded  wonderfully  in  things 
which  concern  his  earthly  existence,  he  has  never  been 
able  to  dissipate  the  darkness  which  hides  the  true 
knowledge  of  God  from  his  mind,  nor  to  change  a 
single  inclination  of  his  heart.  The  highest  degree  of 
wisdom  attained  by  ambitious  intellects,  or  minds  in- 
flamed -n-ith  ardent  longings  after  perfection,  has  only 
plunged  them  into  despair.  The  doctrine,  therefore, 
which  unveils  to  us  our  impotence,  in  order  to  acquaint 
ns  with  a  Divine  power,  which  shall  enable  us  to  do 
all  things,  is  a  generous,  consoling,  and  perfectly  true 
doctrine ;  and  the  reformation  which  exhibits  the  glory 
of  heaven  on  the  earth,  and  pleads  the  rights  of  Al- 
mighty God  with  men,  is  a  great  reformation. 

But  nobody  was  better  aware  than  Luther  of  the 
intimate  and  indissoluble  tie  which  unites  the  gratui- 
tous salvation  of  God  with  the  free  works  of  man. 
Nobody  shewed  better  than  he  that  it  is  only  by 
receiving  all  from  Christ,  that  man  can  give  much  to 
his  brethren.  Ho  always  presented  the  two  acts — that 
of  God  and  that  of  man — in  the  same  picture.  Thus, 
after  having  explained  to  friar  Spenlein  >vherein  saving 
righteousness  consists,  he  adds,  '•  If  you  believe  these 
things  firmly,  as  you  ought  to  do,  (for  cursed  is  he 
who  believeth  not,)  receive  thy  still  ignorant  and  eiTing 
brethren  as  Jesus  Christ  h.as  received  thee.  Bear  with 
them  patiently,  make  their  sins  thy  own ;  and  if  thou 
hast  any  thing  good,  communicate  it  unto  them.  Re- 
ceive one  another,  saith  the  apostle,  as  Christ  hath 


received  us  to  the  glory  of  God.  It  is  a  sad  righteous- 
ness which  will  not  bear  with  others,  because  it  finds 
them  wicked,  and  which  thinks  only  of  seeking  the 
solitude  of  the  desert,  instead  of  doing  them  good  by 
patience,  prayer,  and  example.  If  thou  art  tiie  lily 
and  tlie  rose  of  Clu-ist,  know  that  thy  dwelling  is 
among  the  tliorns.  Only  take  cai-e  that  thou  do  not, 
by  thy  impatience,  thy  rash  judgments,  and  thy  hidden 
pride,  become  thyself  a  thorn.  Christ  reigns  in  the 
midst  of  His  enemies.  Had  He  been  pleased  to  live 
only  among  the  good,  and  to  die  only  for  those  wlio 
loved  Him  ;  for  whom,  I  ask,  would  He  have  died,  and 
among  wlioni  would  He  have  lived?" 

It  is  touching  to  see  how  Lutiier  himself  carried 
these  precepts  of  charity  into  practice.  An  Augustine, 
of  Erfurt,  named  George  Leiffer,  was  subjected  to 
severe  trials.  Luther  learned  it,  and  eight  days  after 
he  had  ivTitteu  the  letter  to  Spenlein,  went  up  to  him 
kindly,  and  said, — "  I  learn  that  you  are  agitated  by 
many  tempests,  and  that  your  spirit  is  tossed  up  and 
down  upon  the  billows.  .  .  .  The  cross  of  Christ 
is  portioned  out  over  all  the  earth,  and  each  one  re- 
ceives his  part.  Do  not  you,  then,  reject  that  which 
is  fallen  to  you.  Rather  receive  it  as  a  holy  relic,  not 
in  a  vessel  of  gold  and  of  silver,  but,  what  is  far  better, 
in  a  heart  of  gold — a  heart  full  of  meekness.  If  the 
wood  of  the  cross  has  been  so  sanctified  by  the  blood 
and  flesh  of  Christ,  that  we  consider  it  to  be  the  most 
venerable  relic,  how  much  more  ought  we  to  regard 
the  injuries,  persecutions,  inflictions,  and  hatred  of  men 
as  holy  relics,  since  they  have  not  only  been  touched 
by  the  flesh  of  Christ,  but  embraced,  kissed,  and 
blessed  by  His  boundless  love  ! " 


CHAPTER  IX 

First  Tlieses— The  Old  Man  and  Grace— Visit  to  the  Convents— Dresden 
—Erfurt— Tornator— Peace  and  tlie  Cross— Results  of  the  Journej  — 
Labours— The  Plague. 

The  instructions  of  Luther  bore  fruit.  Several  of  his 
disciples  already  felt  themselves  lu-ged  publicly  to  pro- 
fess the  truths  which  the  lessons  of  their  master  had 
revealed  to  them.  Among  his  hearers  was  a  learned 
youth,  named  Bernard  of  Feldkirchen,  professor  of  the 
physics  of  Aristotle  in  the  university;  and  who,  five 
years  afterwards,  was  the  first  of  the  evangelical  eccle- 
siastics who  entered  into  the  bond  of  matrimony. 

Luther,  while  he  was  presiding,  desired  Feldkirchen 
to  maintain  theses  in  which  his  principles  were  ex- 
pounded. The  doctrines  professed  by  Luther  thus 
acquired  new  publicity.  The  disputation  took  place 
in  1516,  and  was  Luther's  first  attack  on  the  reign  of 
the  sophists  and  the  Papacy.  However  feeble  it  was, 
it  gave  him  considerable  uneasiness.  "I  allow  these 
propositions  to  be  printed,"  said  he,  many  years  after, 
on  publishing  them  in  his  works,  "  principally  in  order 
that  the  greatness  of  my  cause,  and  the  success  with 
which  God  has  crowned  it,  may  not  puff  me  up.  For 
they  fully  manifest  my  shame, — that  is  to  say,  the  in- 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


finiiity  and  igiiorauce,  the  fear  and  trembling,  with 
which  I  commenced  this  struggle.  I  was  alone,  and 
had  imprudently  plunged  into  this  affair.  Not  being 
able  to  draw  back,  I  conceded  several  important  points 
to  the  pope,  and  even  adored  him." 

The  following  are  some  of  these  propositions: — 
"  The  old  man  is  vanity  of  vanities — he  is  wholly 
vanity,  and  renders  all  other  creatures  vain,  how  good 
soever  they  be. 

"The  old  man  is  called  the  flesh,  not  only  because  he 
is  led  by  sensual  lusts,  but  also  because,  even  though 
he  were  chaste,  prudent,  and  just,  he  is  not  bora  anew 
of  God  by  the  Spirit. 

"A  man  who  is  without  the  grace  of  God  cannot 
observe  the  commands  of  God,  nor  prepare  himself,  in 
whole  or  in  part,  to  receive  grace,  but  necessarily 
remains  under  sin. 

"The  will  of  man  without  grace  is  not  free,  but 
enslaved,  and  that  voluntarily. 

"  Jesus  Christ,  our  strength  and  our  righteousness, 
who  trieth  the  hearts  and  reins,  is  alouo  the  Searcher 
and  Judge  of  our  merits. 

"  Since  everything  is  possible  through  Christ  to  him 
who  believeth,  it  is  superstitious  to  seek  other  aid, 
whether  in  the  will  of  man  or  in  the  saints." 

This  disputation  made  a  great  noise,  and  has  been 
considered  as  the  commencement  of  the  Reformation. 

The  moment  approached  when  this  Eeformation  was 
to  burst  forth.  God  was  hastening  to  prepare  the  in- 
strument which  he  meant  to  employ.  The  elector 
having  built  a  new  church  at  Wittemberg,  to  which 
he  gave  the  name  of  "  All-Saints,"  sent  Staupitz  into 
the  Netherlands  to  collect  the  relics  with  which  he  was 
desirous  to  enrich  it.  The  vicar-general  ordered  Luther 
to  take  his  place  during  his  absence,  and,  in  parti- 
cular, to  pay  a  visit  to  forty  monasteries  in  Misuia  and 
Thuringia. 

Luther  repaired  first  to  Grimma,  and  thence  to 
Dresden,  everywhere  labouring  to  establish  the  truths 
which  he  had  ascertained,  and  to  enlighten  the  mem- 
bers of  his  own  order.  "Don't  attach  yourself  to 
Aristotle,  or  to  other  teachers  of  a  deceitful  philo- 
sophy," said  he  to  the  monks ;  "  but  diligently  read  the 
Word  of  God.  Seek  not  your  salvation  in  your  own 
strengtli,  aud  your  own  good  v/orks,  but  in  the  merits 
of  Christ,  and  in  Divine  grace." 

An  Augustine  monk  of  Dresden  had  run  (iff  from 


k  -A.. 


his  convent,  and  was  living  at  Mayence,  where  the 
prior  of  the  Augustines  had  received  him.  Luther 
wrote  to  the  prior  to  demand  restitution  of  the  lost 
sheep,  and  added  these  words,  which  are  full  of  truth 
and  charity:  "I  know  that  offences  must  come.  It  is 
no  wonder  that  man  falls ;  but  it  is  a  wonder  he  rises 
again,  and  stands  erect.  Peter  fell,  in  order  that  he 
might  know  that  he  was  a  man ;  and  we  still  see  the 
cedar  of  Lebanon  fall.  Angels  even  (a  thing  which 
surpasses  our  comprehension)  fell  in  heaven,  and  Adam 
fell  in  paradise.  Why,  then,  be  astonished  when  a 
reed  is  shaken  by  the  wind,  and  the  smoking  flax 
is  quenched?"  From  Dresden  Luther  proceeded  to 
Erfurt,  to  do  the  duties  of  vicar-general  in  the  very 
convent  where,  eleven  years  before,  he  had  wound  up 
the  clock,  opened  the  door,  and  swept  the  church.  He 
appointed  his  friend,  bachelor  John  Lange,  a  learned 
aud  pious,  but  austere  man,  prior  of  the  convent,  ex- 
horting him  to  affability  and  patience.  Shortly  after 
ho  wi-ote  him :  "  Shew  a  spirit  of  meekness  towards 
the  prior  of  Nurembei'g.  This  is  fitting,  inasmuch  as 
the  prior  has  put  on  a  sour  and  bitter  spirit.  Bitter  is 
not  expelled  by  bitter, — that  is  to  say,  devil  by  devil ; 
but  sweet  expels  bitter, — that  is  to  say,  the  finger  of 
God  casts  out  demons." 

It  must,  perhaps,  be  i-egretted,  that  on  different  occa- 
sions Luther  did  not  remember  this  excellent  advice. 

At  Neustadt  on  Orla  there  was  nothing  but  division. 
Quarrelling  and  distm-bancc  reigned  in  the  convent. 
All  the  monks  were  at  war  with  the  prior,  and  assailed 
Luther  with  their  complaints.  The  prior,  Michael 
Dressel,  or  Tornator,  as  Luther  calls  him,  translating 
his  name  into  Latin,  on  his  part,  explained  all  his 
grievances  to  the  doctor.  "Peace!  peace! "said  he. 
"  You  seek  peace,"  replied  Luther,  "  but  you  seek  the 
peace  of  the  world,  and  not  that  of  Christ.  Know  you 
not  that  our  God  has  placed  his  peace  in  the  midst  of 
war  ?  He  whom  nobody  troubles  has  no  jjeace.  But 
he  who,  troubled  by  all  men,  and  by  all  the  things  of 
life,  bears  all  calmly  and  joyfully,  possesses  true  peace. 
Y'ou  say,  with  Israel,  Peace,  peace ;  aud  there  is  no 
peace.  Say  rather  with  Christ,  The  cross,  the  cross ; 
and  there  will  be  no  cross.  For  the  cross  ceases  to  be 
a  cross  as  soon  as  we  can  sincerely  say  with  joy,  0 
blessed  cross,  there  is  no  wood  like  thine  ! "  After  his 
return  to  Wittemberg,  Luther,  wishing  to  put  au  eud 
to  these  divisions,  allowed  the  monks  to  elect  another 
prior. 

Luther  returned  to  Wittemberg  after  an  absence  of 
six  weeks.  He  was  grieved  at  all  that  he  had  seen, 
but  the  journey  gave  him  a  better  acquaintance  with 
the  Church  and  the  world ;  gave  him  more  confidence 
ill  his  intercourse  with  men,  and  fm'uished  him  with 
Hiimerniis  opportunities  of  founding  schools,  and  urging 
'lis  fuiidniu.iUal  truth,  th.at  "the  Holy  Scripture  alone 
'iiws  us  111!.'  way  to  heaven,"  and  to  exhort  the 
l.rclUrcu  to  live  together  holily,  chastely,  aud  peace- 
hiWj.  Doubtless,  much  seed  was  sown  in  the  different 
Augustine  convents  during  this  journey  of  the  Reformer. 
The  monastic  orders,  which  had  long  been  the  stay  of 
Rome,  perhaps  did  more  for  the  Reformation  than 
against  it.  This  is  true  especially  of  the  order  of 
Augustines.  Almost  all  pious  men  of  a  free  and  exalted 
spirit,  who  were  ia  cloisters,  turned  to  the  Gospel;  and 


LUTHER'S  LABOURS-THK  PLAGUE. 


C5 


a  new  and  noble  blood  soon  circulated  in  their  orders, 
which  were,  in  a  manner,  the  arteries  of  German  Catho- 
licity. The  world  knew  nothing;  of  the  new  ideas  of 
the  Augustine  of  "Wittembergr,  after  they  had  become 
the  great  subject  of  couvei-sation  in  chapters  and 
monasteries.  In  this  way  more  than  one  cloister  was 
a  seminary  of  reformers.  At  the  moment  when  the 
great  blow  was  struck,  pious  riid  brave  men  came  forth 
from  their  obscurity,  and  abandoned  the  retreat  of  the 
monastic  life,  for  the  active  career  of  ministers  of  the 
Word  of  God.  Even  during  the  inspection  of  151G, 
Luther,  by  his  words,  awoke  many  slumbering  spirits  ; 
and  hence  this  year  has  been  called  "  the  morning  star 
of  the  Gospel  day." 

Luther  resumed  his  ordinary  avocations.     At  this 

period  he  was  oppressed  with  work  :  it  was  not  enough 

that  he  was  professor,  preacher,  and  confessor;  he  had, 

moreover,  a  variety  of  temporal  business  connected 

with  his  order  and  his  convent.     "  I  almost  constantly 

require  two  clerks,"  wrote  he,  "  for  I  do  little  else  the 

I    whole  day  than  write  letters.     I  am  preacher  to  the 

!     convcut,  chaplain  at  table,  pastor  and  parish  minister, 

\     director  of   studies,   vice-prior,    (which    means    prior 

eleven  times  over,)  inspector  of  the  ponds  of  Litzkan, 

advocate  of  the  inns  of  Herzberg  at  Torgau,  reader  of 

St.  Paul,  commentator  on  the  Psalms 

I  have  seldom  time  to  say  my  Hours  and  chant, — to 
say  nothing  of  my  combat  with  flesh  and  blood,  the 
devil  and  the  world.     .....     See  how  lazy  a 

man  I  am." 

About  this  time  the  plague  broke  out  in  AVittemberg, 
and  a  great  part  of  the  students  and  teachers  left  the 
town.  Luther  remained.  "  I  don't  well  know,"  wrote 
he  to  his  friend  at  Erfurt,  "  if  the  plague  will  allow  me 
I  to  finish  the  Epistle  to  the  Galatians.  Prompt  and 
brisk,  it  makes  gi-eat  ravages,  especially  among  the 
young.  You  advise  mo  to  flee.  Whither  shall  I  flee  ? 
I  hope  the  world  will  not  go  to  wreck  though  friar 
Martin  fall.  If  the  plague  makes  progress,  I  will  dis- 
perse the  friars  in  all  directions ;  but  for  myself,  I  am 
stationed  here,  and  obedience  permits  me  not  to  flee, 
till  He  who  has  called  me  recall  me.  Not  that  I  do 
not  fear  death,  (for  I  am  not  the  Apostle  Paul,  I  am 
only  his  commentator ;)  but  I  hope  the  Lord  will  de- 
liver me  fiom  fear."  Such  was  the  firmness  of  the 
d.Ktor  of  Wittemberg.  Will  he,  whom  the  plague 
ci  luld  not  force  to  recoil  one  step,  recoil  before  Kome  1 
Will  he  yield  to  the  jjower  of  the  scaffold  ? 


CHAPTER  X. 

BelsUons  of  Luther  witli  the  Elector— Luther  and  the  Elector— Counf  els 
to  the  Chaplain— Duke  George— His  Character— Luther  before  tlio 
Court— Dinner  at  Court— Emser'a  Supper. 

The  same  courage  which  Luther  displayed  in  presence 
of  most  formidable  evils,  he  displayed  in  presence  of 
the  great.  The  elector  was  much  pleased  with  the 
yicar-geueral,  who  had  made  a  good  collection  of  relics 
in  the  Netherlands.    Luther  gives  an  account  of  it  to 


Spalatin.  There  is  something  curious  in  this  affair  of 
relics  occurring  at  the  moment  when  the  Reformation 
is  about  to  commence.  Assuredly  the  Reformers  had 
little  idea  of  the  point  iit  which  they  were  to  arrive. 
A  bishopric  seemed  to  the  elector  only  a  fit  recompense 
to  the  vicar-general.  Luther,  to  whom  Spalatin  wrote 
on  the  subject,  strongly  disajjproved  of  it.  "Many 
things,"  replied  he,  "p'c-isc  yo-ir  pri-icc,  which,  how- 
ever, displease  (;.( d  I  denj  not  his  ibility  in  the 
affairs  of  the  woild  but  in  i\liit  coiueins  God  and 
the     salvation     of      jftMj^  _  j.^,- 

souls,Iaccounthim  '  "~  "       ' 

seven-fold  blind  i 
well  as  his  coun 
sellor  Pfeffingi  i 
I  say  not  this  be 
hind  their  back^ 
like  a  slanderei  , 
don't  hide  it  frcm 
them,  for  I  am 
ready  to  say  it 
personally  to  both 
Why,"  continue 
he,  "  would  y*  u 
environ  this  man 
with  all  the  whii  1 
winds  and  tern 
pests  of  episcop  il 
cares  ?" 

The  elector  d 
not  take  Lutlui 
frankness    in    ba  1  Ht   AMSnl    NEAR   DREbDE) 

part.  "The  prince,  i\-,  Sp  lUtiii  in  i  IcttLi  t )  hini, 
"  of  ten  speaks  of  J  ou  i  1 1  ^Mtli  much  ic-pect  '  Ficdc- 
rick  sent  the  monk  tuff  to  imkc  i  ci  sock  of  ^e^y  fine 
cloth.  "  It  would  be  too  fine,"  said  Luther,  "  were  it 
not  the  gift  of  a  prince.  1  am  unworthy  that  any  man 
should  think  of  me,  far  less  that  a  prince  should,  and 
so  great  a  prince.  The  most  useful  persons  to  me  are 
those  who  think  the  most  ill  of  me.  Return  thanks 
to  our  prince  for  his  favour  ;  but  know  that  I  desire 
not  to  be  praised  by  you,  or  by  any  man — all  praise  of 
man  being  vain,  and  the  praise  which  comcth  from 
God  alone  being  true." 

The  excellent  chaplain  did  not  wish  to  confine  him- 
self to  his  court  functions.  He  desired  to  render  him- 
self useful  to  the  people ;  but,  like  many  of  all  times, 
he  wished  to  do  it  without  giving  offence.  He  not  only 
wished  not  to  irritate  any  one,  but,  ou  the  contrary,  to 
conciliate  general  favour.  "Point  out,"  says  he  to 
Luther,  "  some  work  which  I  may  translate  into  our 
mother  tongue, — a  work  which  will  please  generally, 
and  at  the  same  time  be  useful."  "  Agreeable  and  use- 
ful ! "  replies  Luther ;  "  the  request  is  beyond  me.  The 
better  things  are,  the  less  they  please.  What  is  more 
salutary  than  Jesus  Christ  ?  And  yet  to  most  He  is  a 
savoiu:  of  death.  You  will  tell  me  that  you  wish  to  be 
useful  to  those  who  love  what  is  good.  In  that  case, 
just  let  the  voice  of  Clu-ist  be  heard.  You  mil  be 
agreeable  and  useful,  depend  upon  it ;  but  it  will  be  to 
a  very  small  number ;  for  the  sheep  are  rare  in  this  j 
region  of  wolves."  | 

Luther,  however,  recommended  to  his  friend  the 
sermous  of  Tattler.    "I  have  never  secu,"  said  he, 


HISTORY  OP  THE  REFORMATION. 


"  either  iu  Latin  or  our  owu  tongue,  a  soiuider  theology, 
or  one  more  agreeable  to  the  Gospel.  Taste  and  see 
how  sweet  the  Lord  is ;  but  be  it  after  you  have  tasted 
and  seen  how  bitter  every  thing  is  that  is  ours." 

It  was  iu  the  course  of  the  year  1517  that  Luther 
entered  into  communication  with  Duke  George  of 
Saxony.  The  House  of  Saxony  had  then  two  heads. 
The  princes,  E?nest  and  Albert, — carried  off  in  their 
youth  from  the  castle  of  Altenbourg  by  Kunz  of  Kau- 
fungen, — had,  by  the  treaty  of  Leipsic,  become  the 
founders  of  the  two  houses  which  stiU  bear  their  name. 
The  Elector  Frederick,  the  son  of  Ernest,  at  the  period 
of  which  we  write,  was  the  chief  of  the  Ernestine 
branch ;  while  his  brother,  Duke  George,  was  chief  of 
the  Albertine  branch.  Dresden  and  Leipsic  were  in 
the  states  of  the  duke,  who  had  his  residence  iu  the 
former  of  these  cities.  His  mother,  Sidonia,  was 
daughter  of  George  Podiebrad,  King  of  Bohemia. 
The  long  struggle  which  Bohemia  had  maintained  with 
Rome,  from  the  days  of  John  Huss,  had  had  some  in- 
fluence on  the  prince  of  Saxony,  and  he  had  often 
shewn  a  desire  for  a  reformation.  "  He  has  sucked  it 
from  his  mother,"  it  was  said:  "he  is  by  birth  an 
enemy  of  the  clergy."  He  in  various  ways  annoyed 
the  bishops,  abbots,  canons,  and  monks  ;  insomuch  that 
his  cousin,  the  elector,  was  more  than  once  obliged  to 
interpose  in  theii"  behalf.  It  might  have  been  sup- 
posed that  Duke  George  would  be  a  warm  partisan  of 
the  Reformation.  Devout  Frederick,  on  the  contrary, 
who  had  once  put  on  the  spurs  of  Gregory  in  the  Holy 
Sepulchre,  girt  himself  with  the  great  ponderous  sword 
of  the  conqueror  of  Jerusalem,  and  taking  an  oath  to 
combat  for  the  Clnu-ch,  like  a  bold  knight,  might  have 
been  expected  to  prove  one  of  the  most  eager  cham- 
pions of  Rome.  But  when  the  Gospel  is  iu  question, 
the  anticipations  of  human  wisdom  are  often  at  fault. 
The  result  was  the  opposite  of  what  might  have  been 
supposed.  The  duke  would  have  taken  pleasure  in 
humbling  the  Church,  and  those  connected  -ivith  it, 
and  lowering  the  bishops,  whose  princely  train  far  sur- 
passed his  own ;  but  to  receive  into  his  heart  the 
evangelical  doctrine  which  must  have  humbled  it,  to 
acknowledge  himself  a  guilty  sinner,  incapable  of  be- 
ing saved,  unless  through  grace,  was  quite  a  different 
matter.  He  would  wUlingly  have  reformed  others, 
but  he  had  no  desu-e  to  reform  himself.  He  would, 
perhaps,  have  assisted  iu  obliging  the  bishop  of  Mentz 
to  be  contented  with  a  single  bishopric,  and  have  no 
more  than  fourteen  horses  iu  his  stable,  as  he  himself 
repeatedly  expressed  it ;  but  when  he  saw  another  than 
himself  appear  as  reformer, — when  he  saw  a  mere 
monk  undertake  the  work, — and  the  Reformation  gain- 
ing numerous  adherents  among  the  humbler  classes, — 
the  haughty  grandson  of  the  Hussite  king  became  the 
most  violent  adversary  of  the  reform  of  which  he  had 
at  first  promised  to  be  a  pai'tisan. 

In  Jidy,  1517,  Duke  George  asked  Staupitz  to  send 
him  a  learned  and  eloquent  preacher.  Staupitz  sent 
Luther,  representing  him  as  a  man  of  great  learning 
and  irreproachable  character.  The  prince  invited  him 
to  preach  at  Dresden,  in  the  chapel  of  the  castle,  on  the 
feast  of  St.  James  the  Elder. 

On  the  day  fixed,  the  duke  and  his  court  proceeded  , 
to  the  chapel  to  hear  th6  preacher  of  Wittemberg.  | 


Luther  gladly  seized  the  occasion  to  bear  testimony 
to  the  truth  before  such  an  assembly.  He  took  for  his 
text  the  Gospel  of  the  day:  "Then  came  to  him  the 
mother  of  Zebedee's  children  with  her  sons,"  (Matt. 
XX.  20-25.)  He  preached  on  the  wishes  and  rash 
prayers  of  men ;  then  dwelt  strongly  on  the  assurance 
of  salvation,  making  it  rest  on  this  foundation, — viz.. 
That  those  who  hear  the  "Word  of  God  with  faith  are 
the  true  disciples,  whom  Jesus  Christ  has  elected  uuto 
eternal  life.  He  next  treated  of  eternal  election,  shew- 
ing that  this  doctrine,  when  exhibited  in  connection 
with  the  work  of  Chi-ist,  is  well  fitted  to  calm  tlio 
terrors  of  conscience ;  and  so,  instead  of  disposing  men 
to  flee  from  God,  allm-es  them  to  seek  their  refuge  in 
Him.  In  conclusion,  he  brought  forward  a  parable  of 
three  virgins,  and  drew  a  very  instructive  improve- 
ment from  it. 

The  word  of  truth  made  a  deep  impression  on  the 
hearers.  Two,  iu  particular,  appeared  to  give  earnest 
attention  to  the  discoiu-se  of  the  monk  of  Wittemberg. 
The  one  was  a  respectable  looking  lady  who  sat  iu  one 
of  the  court  pews,  and  whose  featiu-es  bespoke  deep 
emotion.  It  was  Madame  de  la  Sale,  grand  mistress  to 
the  duchess.  The  other  was  Jerome  Emser,  a  licentiate 
iu  canon  law,  and  secretary  and  counsellor  to  the  duke. 
Emser  was  a  man  of  talent  and  extensive  information. 
A  courtier  and  able  politician,  his  wish  would  have 
been  to  please  both  parties  at  once, — to  pass  at  Rome 
for  a  defender  of  the  papacy,  and  at  the  same  time 
figure  in  Germany  among  the  learned  men  of  the  age. 
But  under  this  flexible  spirit  a  violent  temper  lay  con- 
cealed. Thus  Luther  and  Emser,  who  were  afterwards 
repeatedly  to  break  a  lance,  met,  for  the  first  time,  in 
the  chapel  of  the  castle  of  Dresden. 

The  dinner-bell  haviug  rung  for  the  inmates  of  the 
castle,  the  ducal  family,  and  the  persons  attached  to 
the  com-t,  were  soon  seated  at  the  table.  The  conver- 
sation naturally  turned  on  the  preacher  of  the  morning. 
"How  did  you  like  the  sermon?"  said  the  duke  to 
Madame  de  la  Sale.  "  Coidd  I  again  hear  such  another 
discourse,"  replied  she,  "  I  could  die  in  peace."  "  And 
I,"  replied  George,  angrily,  "  woidd  give  a  good  sum 
not  to  have  heard  it.  Such  discourses  are  good  only 
to  make  people  sin  with  confidence." 

The  master  having  thus  stated  his  opinion,  the  cour- 
tiers proceeded,  without  restraint,  to  express  their  dis- 
satisfaction. Every  one  was  ready  with  his  remark. 
Some  alleged  that,  in  the  parable  of  the  three  virgins, 
Luther  had  had  three  ladies  of  the  court  iu  his  eye. 
On  this  the  "talk  was  endless.  They  rallied  the  three 
ladies  whom  they  affirmed  that  Luther  had  intended. 
He  is  an  ignorant  blockhead,  said  one.  He  is  a  proud 
monk,  said  another.  Each  had  his  comment  on  the 
sermon,  making  the  preacher  say  whatever  he  pleased. 
The  truth  had  fallen  into  the  midst  of  a  court  ill  pre- 
pared to  receive  it.  Every  one  tore  it  at  pleasure. 
But  while  the  Word  of  God  was  to  many  an  occasion 
of  stumbling,  to  the  grand  mistress  it  was  a  stone 
"  elect  and  precious."  Falling  sick  about  a  month  after, 
she  confidently  embraced  the  grace  of  the  Saviom",  and 
died  rejoicing. 

In  regard  to  the  dulte,  perhaps  the  testimony  which 
he  had  heard  given  to  the  truth  was  not  in  vain.  How- 
ever much  he  opposed  the  Reformation  during  his  life, 


EMSER'S  SUPPER— THESES. 


C7 


it  is  known  that  in  his  last  moments  he  declared,  that 
his  only  hope  was  iu  the  merits  of  Jesus  Christ. 

It  naturally  fell  to  Emser  to  do  the  honours  to 
Luther  in  his  master's  name.  He  accordingly  invited 
him  to  sujjpor.  Luther  refused ;  but  Emser  insisted, 
and  constrained  him  to  come.  Luther  only  expected 
to  meet  a  few  friends ;  but  he  soon  perceived  that  a 
trap  had  been  laid  for  him.  A  master  of  arts  from 
Leipsic,  and  several  Dominicans,  were  with  the  prince's 
secretary.  The  master  of  arts,  who  had  an  overween- 
ing opinion  of  himself,  and  a  deep  haired  of  Luther, 
accosted  him  with  a  bland  and  friendly  air ;  but  he 
soon  broke  out,  and  screamed  at  full  pitch.  The  battle 
began.  "The  discussion,"  says  Luther,  "turned  on 
the  absurdities  of  Ai-istotle  and  St.  Thomas."  At  last, 
Luther  challenged  the  master  of  arts,  with  all  the 
erudition  of  the  Thomists,  to  define  what  it  was  to  ful- 
fil the  commandments  of  God.  The  master  of  arts, 
though  embarrassed,  put  on  a  good  countenance.  '•  Pay 
me  my  fees,"  says  he,  stretching  out  his  hand,  "  da 
pastiwi."  One  would  have  said  he  was  going  to  give 
a  lesson  in  form,  mistaking  the  guests  for  his  pupils. 
"At  tills  foolish  reply,"  adds  the  Eeformer,  -Mve  all 
burst  a-laughiug,  aud  the  party  broke  up." 

Diu-ing  the  conversation  a  Dominican  had  been 
listening  at  the  door,  and  would  fain  have  come  in  to 
spit  in  Luther's  face.  He  refrained,  however,  though 
he  afterwards  made  a  boast  of  it.  Emser,  who  had 
been  delighted  at  seeing  his  guests  battling,  while  he 
seemed  to  hold  a  due  medium,  hastened  to  apologize  to 
Luther  for  the  manner  in  which  the  party  had  gone 
off.    Luther  returned  to  Wittemberg. 


CHAPTER  XL 

Bctora  to  Wittemberg — Tlieses — Nature  of  Man— Rationalism — Dcmanil 
at  Erfui-t—Eck— Urban  Regius— Lutlier's  Modesty. 

LrrnEK  zealously  resumed  his  labours.  He  was  pre- 
jtaring  six  or  seven  young  theologians,  who  were  forth- 
with to  undergo  an  examination  in  order  to  obtain  a 
license  to  teach.  And  what  most  delighted  him  was, 
that  their  promotion  was  to  be  to  Aristotle's  disgrace. 
"I  should  like,"  said  he,  "to  multiply  his  enemies  as 
fast  as  possible."  With  that  view  he  at  this  time 
published  Theses,  which  deserve  attention. 

The  leading  topic  which  he  discussed  was  liberty. 
He  had  already  glanced  at  it  in  the  theses  of  Feld- 
kirchen,  but  now  went  deeper  into  it.  Ever  since 
Christianity  began,  there  has  been  a  struggle,  more  or 
less  keen,  between  the  opposite  doctrines  of  the  freedom 
and  the  slavery  of  man.  Some  schoolmen  had  taught, 
like  Pclagius  and  others,  that  man  possessed  in  himself 
the  liberty  or  power  of  loving  God  aud  doing  good. 
Luther  denied  this  liberty,  not  to  deprive  man  of  it, 
but,  on  the  contrary,  to  make  him  obtain  it.  The 
struggle,  then,  in  this  great  question,  is  not,  as  is 
usually  said,  between  liberty  aud  servitude;  but  be- 
tween a  liberty  proceeding  from  man,  and  a  liberty 
proceeding  from  God.  Some  who  call  themselves  the 
advocates  of  liberty,  say  to  man,  "  You  have  the  power 
of  doing  good,  and  require  a  greater  liberty."     Others, 


who  have  been  called  advocates  of  slavery,  say  to  him, 
on  the  contrary,  "You  have  no  true  liberty;  but  God 
offers  it  to  you  iu  the  Gospel."  The  one  pai'ty  speaks 
of  liberty,  but  a  liberty  which  must  end  iu  slavery; 
while  the  other  speaks  of  slavery,  in  order  to  give 
liberty.  Such  was  the  struggle  in  the  time  of  St.  Paul, 
in  the  time  of  Augustine,  and  in  the  time  of  Luther. 
Those  who  say,  "Change  nothing!"  are  champions  of 
slavery.  Those  who  say,  "  Let  your  fetters  fall ! "  are 
champions  of  liberty. 

It  would  be  a  mistake,  however,  to  su]ipose  that  the 
whole  Reformation  can  be  summed  up  in  this  particular 
question.  It  is  one  of  the  many  doctrines  which  the 
Wittemberg  doctor  maintained — that  is  all.  It  would, 
above  all,  be  a  strange  illusion  to  bold,  that  the  Refor- 
mation was  fatalism,  or  an  opposition  to  liberty.  It 
was  a  magnificent  emancipation  of  the  human  mind. 
Bm-sting  the  numerous  bauds  with  which  thought  had 
been  bound  by  the  hierarchy,  aud  reviving  the  ideas  of 
liberty,  right,  and  examination,  it  delivered  its  own 
age,  and  with  it  ours  also,  and  the  remotest  posterity. 
Aud  let  it  not  be  said  that  the  Reformation,  while  it 
freed  mau  from  human  despotism,  enslaved  him  by 
proclaiming  the  sovereignty  of  grace.  No  doubt,  it 
wished  to  bring  back  the  human  wiU  to  the  Divine,  to 
subordinate  the  one,  and  completely  merge  it  in  the 
other ;  but  what  philosopher  knows  not  that  cntu-e  con- 
formity to  the  will  of  God  alone  constitutes  sovereign, 
perfect  freedom  ;  and  that  man  will  never  be  truly  free, 
until  supreme  righteousness  and  truth  have  sole  domi- 
nion over  him  ? 

The  following  are  some  of  the  Ninety-nine  Proposi- 
tions which  Luther  sent  forth  into  the  Church  in 
opposition  to  the  Pelagian  rationalism  of  scholastic 
theology : — 

"It  is  true  that  man,  who  is  become  a  corrupt  tree, 
can  only  wiU  and  do  what  is  evU. 

"  It  is  not  true  that  the  wUl,  when  left  to  itself,  can 
do  good  as  well  as  evU ;  for  it  is  not  free,  but  captive. 

"  It  is  not  in  the  power  of  the  wiU  of  man  to  choose 
or  reject  whatever  is  presented  to  it. 

"  Man  cannot  naturally  wish  God  to  be  God.  His 
wish  is,  that  he  himself  were  God,  and  that  God  were 
no  God. 

"  The  excellent,  infallible,  and  sole  preparation  for 
grace,  is  the  eternal  election  and  predestination  of  God. 

"  It  is  false  to  say,  that  when  man  does  aU  he  can, 
he  clears  away  the  obstacles  to  grace. 

"In  one  word,  nature  possesses  neither  a  pm-e 
reason,  nor  a  good  will. 

"  On  the  part  of  man  there  is  nothing  which  pre- 
cedes grace,  unless  it  be  impotence  and  even  rebellion. 

"  There  is  no  moral  virtue  without  pride  or  sullen- 
ness, — that  is  to  say,  without  sin. 

"From  the  beginning  to  the  end  we  are  not  the 
masters  of  our  actions,  but  the  slaves  of  them. 

"We  do  not  become  righteous  by  doing  what  is 
righteous ;  but  having  become  righteous,  we  do  what  is 
righteous. 

"  He  who  says  that  a  theologian  who  is  not  a  logician 
is  a  heretic  and  an  adventurer,  maintains  an  adven- 
turous and  heretical  proposition. 

"  There  is  no  form  of  reasoning  (syllogism)  which 
accords  with  the  things  of  God. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


"  If  the  form  of  tlie  syllogism  could  be  applied  to 
divine  things,  we  should  know  the  article  of  the  Holy 
Trinity,  and  should  not  believe  it. 

"  In  one  word,  Aristotle  is  to  theology  as  darkness 
to  light. 

"  Man  is  more  hostile  to  the  grace  of  God  than  he 
is  to  the  law  itself. 

"  He  who  is  without  the  grace  of  God  sius  inces- 
santly, even  though  he  neither  kills,  nor  steals,  nor 
commits  adultery. 

"  He  sins,  for  he  does  not  fulfil  the  law  spiritually. 

"  Not  to  kill,  and  not  to  commit  adultery,  externally, 
and  in  regard  to  action,  merely,  is  the  righteousness  of 
hypocrites. 

"  The  law  of  God  and  the  will  of  man  are  two  ad- 
versaries, who,  without  the  grace  of  God,  can  never 
agree. 

"  What  the  law  wishes  the  will  never  wishes ;  only 
from  fear  it  may  make  a  shew  of  wishing. 

'•  The  law  is  the  hangman  of  the  will,  and  is  subject 
only  to  the  Child  who  has  been  born  unto  us.  (Isaiah 
ix.  6.) 

"The  law  makes  sin  abound;  for  it  irritates  and 
repulses  the  wiU. 

"  But  the  grace  of  God  makes  righteousness  abound, 
through  Jesus  Christ,  who  makes  us  love  the  law. 

"  Every  work  of  the  law  appears  good  externally, 
but  internally  is  sin. 

"  The  will,  when  it  turns  toward  the  law  without 
the  grace  of  God,  does  so  only  for  its  own  interest. 

"  Cursed  are  those  who  do  the  works  of  the  law. 

"Blessed  ai-e  all  those  who  do  the  works  of  the 
grace  of  God. 

"  The  law,  which  is  good,  and  in  which  we  have 
life,  is  the  law  of  the  love  of  God,  shed  abroad  in  our 
hearts  by  the  Holy  Spirit.     (Rom.  v.  5.) 

"  Grace  is  not  given  ia  order  that  works  may  be 
done  more  frequently  and  more  easily,  but  because 
without  grace  there  cannot  be  any  work  of  love. 

"  To  love  God  is  to  hate  oneself,  and  know  nothing 
out  of  God." 

In  this  way  Luther  attributes  to  God  all  the  good 
that  man  can  do.  The  thing  to  be  done,  is  not  to 
repair,  or  (so  to  speak)  to  patch  up  the  will  of  man ; 
an  entirely  new  will  must  be  given  him.  God  alone 
could  say  this  ;  for  God  alone  could  perform  it.  This 
is  one  of  the  greatest  and  most  important  truths  that 
the  will  of  man  can  acknowledge. 

But  Luther,  while  proclaiming  the  impotence  of 
man,  did  not  fall  into  the  opposite  extreme.  He  says 
in  the  eighth  thesis,  "  It  follows  not  that  the  will  is 
naturally  bad, — that  is  to  say,  that  its  nature  is  of  the 
essence  of  evil,  as  the  Manichees  taught."  Originally 
the  nature  of  man  was  essentially  good ;  but  it  turned 
aside  from  goodness, — that  is,  God, — and  is  inclined  to 
evil.  Still  its  origin  remains  holy  and  glorious,  and  is 
capable,  by  the  power  of  God,  of  regaining  its  original. 
The  object  of  Christianity  is  to  restore  it.  The  Gos- 
pel, it  is  true,  exhibits  man  iu  a  state  of  degradation 
and  impotence,  but  as  placed  between  two  glories  and 
two  grandeurs, — a  past  glory,  fi-om  which  he  has  been 
precipitated ;  and  a  future  glory,  to  which  he  is  called. 
This  is  the  truth,  and  man  knows  it  to  be  the  truth ; 
and  how  little  soever  he  thinks  of  it,  he  easily  discovers 


that  all  which  is  told  him  of  his  actual  purity,  power, 
and  glory,  is  only  a  lie,  designed  to  cradle  his  pride  and 
rock  it  asleep. 

Luther,  in  his  theses,  attacked  not  only  the  pretended 
goodness  of  man's  will,  but  also  the  pretended  light  of 
his  understanding  in  regard  to  divine  things.  In  fact, 
scholasticism  had  exalted  reason  as  well  as  the  will. 
This  theology,  in  the  hands  of  some  of  its  teachers,  was, 
at  bottom,  only  a  species  of  rationalism.  The  propo- 
sitions which  we  have  enumerated  indicate  this;  for 
they  look  as  if  directed  against  the  rationalism  df  our 
own  day.  In  the  theses,  which  were  the  signal  of  the 
Reformation,  Luther  attacked  the  Church  and  the 
popular  superstitions,  which  to  the  Gospel  had  added  iu- 
dulgences,  purgatoi-y,  and  numberless  abuses.  In  those 
which  we  have  just  given,  he  attacked  the  school  and 
the  rationalism  which  had  robbed  the  Gospel  of  the 
doctrine  of  the  sovereignty  of  God,  His  revelation,  and 
His  grace.  The  Reformation  attacked  rationalism  he- 
fore  it  attacked  superstition.  It  proclaimed  the  rights 
of  God,  before  lopping  off  the  excrescences  of  man. 
It  was  positive  before  it  was  negative.  This  has  not 
been  sufficiently  attended  to ;  and  yet,  without  attend- 
ing to  it,  it  is  impossible  duly  to  appreciate  the  char- 
acter of  this  religious  revolution. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  the  truths  which  Luther  thus 
expressed  with  so  much  energy  were  quite  new.  To 
maintain  these  theses  at  Wittemberg  had  been  an  easy 
matter.  There  his  iufluence  was  paramount,  and  it 
would  have  been  said  that  he  had  chosen  a  field  of 
battle  where  he  knew  no  combatant  could  appear.  In 
offering  battle  iu  another  university,  he  gave  them  a 
greater  publicity;  and  it  was  by  publicity  that  the 
Reformation  was  effected.  He  turned  his  eyes  towards 
Erfurt,  where  the  theologians  had  shewn  themselves 
so  exasperated  against  him. 

He,  accordingly,  sent  his  theses  to  John  Lange,  prior 
of  Erfurt,  and  wrote  him  as  follows  :  "  My  anxiety  for 
the  decision  which  you  will  give  as  to  these  theses  is 
great,  extreme,  too  great,  perhaps,  and  keeps  me  on 
the  rack.  I  much  suspect  that  your  theologians  will 
consider  as  paradoxical  and  kakodoxical,  what  I  must 
henceforth  regard  as  most  orthodox.  Tell  me  how  it 
is,  and  as  soon  as  you  possibly  can.  Have  the  good- 
ness to  make  known  to  the  Faculty  of  Theology,  and 
to  all,  that  I  am  ready  to  come  and  publicly  maintain 
these  propositions  either  in  the  university  or  the  monas- 
tery." It  does  not  seem  that  Luther's  challenge  was 
accepted.  The  monks  of  Erfurt  contented  themselves 
with  intimating  that  his  theses  had  incurred  theu*  high 
displeasure. 

But  he  was  desirous  to  send  them  to  some  other  part 
of  Germany;  and  with  that  view  bethought  him  of  a 
man  who  plays  an  important  part  iu  the  history  of  the 
Reformation,  and  with  whom  the  reader  must  be  made 
acquainted. 

A  distinguished  professor,  named  John  Meyer,  was 
then  teaching  iu  the  university  of  lugolstadt,  in  Bavaria. 
He  was  a  native  of  Eck,  a  village  in  Swabia,  and  was 
commonly  called  Doctor  Eck.  He  was  a  friend  of 
Luther,  who  respected  his  talents  and  acquirements. 
Full  of  intellect,  he  had  read  much,  and  was  possessed 
of  a  very  retentive  memory.  To  erudition  he  added 
eloquence.     His  voice  and  gesture  bespoke  the  vivacity 


DOCTOR  EOK— UEBAN  REGIUS. 


69 


of  his  genius.  In  regard  to  talent,  Eck  was  in  the 
south  of  Germany  what  Luther  was  in  the  nortli. 
They  were  the  two  most  distinguished  theologians  of 
the  period,  though  of  very  different  views.  Ingolstadt 
was  almost  the  rival  of  Wittemberg.  The  reputation 
of  these  two  doctors  attracted  crowds  of  eager  students 
from  all  quarters  to  the  universities  in  wliich  they 
taught ;  their  personal  qualities,  not  less  than  their 
abilities,  endearing  them  to  their  pupils.  The  character 
of  Doctor  Eck  has  been  assailed ;  but  an  anecdote  in 
bis  history  will  shew  that  at  this  pei-iod,  at  least,  his 
heart  was  not  closed  against  generous  impressions. 

Among  the  students  whom  his  fame  had  attracted 
to  Ingolstadt,  was  a  young  man,  named  Urban  Regius, 
from  the  banks  of  an  Alpine  lake.  He  had  first  studied 
at  the  university  of  Fribourg,  in  Brisgau.  On  his 
arrival  at  Ingolstadt,  to  which  he  had  been  attracted 
by  the  fame  of  Doctor  Eck,  Urban  engaged  in  his 
course  of  philosophy,  and  gained  the  favour  of  liis 
master.  Requiring  to  provide  for  his  maintenance,  he 
was  under  the  necessity  of  taking  charge  of  some  yonng 
noblemen,  and  had  not  only  to  superintend  their  studios 
and  their  conduct,  but  also  to  purchase,  on  his  own 
account,  whatever  books  and  clothes  they  required. 
The  youths  dressed  in  style,  and  kept  a  good  table. 
Regius  becoming  embarrassed,  prayed  the  parents  to 
recall  their  sons.  '•  Never  fear,"  was  the  answer. 
His  debts  increased,  his  creditors  became  pressing,  and 
he  was  at  his  wit's  end.  The  emperor  was  raising 
an  army  against  the  Turks,  and  a  recruiting  party  hav- 
ing arrived  at  Ingolstadt,  Urban,  in  despair,  enlisted. 
Clothed  in  military  attire,  he  appeared  in  the  ranks  at 
the  time  when  the  review  took  place,  previous  to  their 
departure.  Doctor  Eck  coming  up  at  that  instant, 
with  several  of  his  colleagues,  was  greatly  surprised  to 
discover  his  student  among  the  recruits.  "Urban 
Regius !"  said  he,  fixing  his  keen  eye  on  him.  "  Here," 
replied  the  I'ecruit.  '•  What,  pray,  is  the  cause  of 
tills.'"  The  young  man  told  his  s'tory.  "I  take  the 
matter  upon  myself,"  replied  Eck  ;  and  setting  his  hal- 
berd aside,  bought  him  off  from  the  recruiting  party. 
The  parents,  threatened  by  the  doctor  with  the  dis- 
pleasure of  the  prince,  sent  the  necessary  funds  to 
defray  the  expenses  of  their  children,  and  Ui'ban 
Regius  was  saved  to  become,  at  a  later  period,  one  of 
the  pillars  of  the  Reformation. 

Doctor  Eck  occurred  to  Luther  as  the  proper  person 
to  publish  his  theses  on  Pelagianism  and  scholastic 
rationaUsm  in  the  south  of  the  empire.  He  did  not, 
however,  send  them  to  the  professor  of  Ingolstadt 
directly;  but  employed  a  mutual  friend,  the  excellent 
Christopher  Scheurl,  secretary  to  the  town  of  Nurem- 
berg, praying  him  to  send  them  to  Eck  at  Ingolstadt, 
which  is  at  no  great  distance  from  Nuremberg.  "  I 
send  you,"  says  he,  "  my  paradoxical,  and  even  kakis- 
todoxical  propositions,  as  many  think  them.  Com- 
municate them  to  our  dear  friend,  the  very  learned 
and  talented  Eck,  that  I  may  learn  and  know  what  he 
thinks  of  them."  These  were  the  terms  in  which 
Luther  then  spoke  of  Doctor  Eck, — such  was  the 
friendship  then  subsisting  between  them.  It  was  not 
Luther  who  broke  it  off. 


Ingolstadt,  however,  was  not  the  field  on  which  the 
battle  was  to  be  fought.  The  doctrines  on  which  these 
theses  turned  were,  perhaps,  of  greater  importance 
than  those  which,  two  months  after,  set  the  Church  in 
a  blaze;  and  yet,  notwithstanding  of  Luther's  chal- 
lenges, they  passed  unnoticed.  At  most,  they  were 
read  within  the  circle  of  the  school,  and  produced  no 


FRIBOURG    CATHEDRAL. 

sensation  beyond  it.  The  reason  was,  because  they 
were  only  university  propositions,  and  theological  doc- 
trines ;  whereas  the  subsequent  theses  related  to  an  evil 
which  had  grown  up  in  the  midst  of  the  people,  and  was 
then  causing  devastation  in  all  parts  of  Germany.  So 
long  as  Luther  was  contented  with  reviving  forgotten 
doctrines,  all  was  silence  ;  but  when  he  attacked  abuses 
which  were  universally  felt,  every  one  turned  to  listen. 
Nevertheless,  all  that  Luther  proposed  in  either  case, 
was  to  produce  one  of  those  theological  discussions 
which  were  then  so  common  in  universities.  To  this 
circle  his  views  were  confined.  He  was  humble,  and 
his  humility  amounted  even  to  distrust  and  anxiety. 
"  Considering  my  ignorance,"  said  he,  "  all  I  deserve 
is  to  be  hid  in  a  corner,  without  being  known  by  any 
one  under  the  sun."  But  a  mighty  hand  drew  him  out 
of  this  corner  in  which  he  wished  to  remain  unknown 
to  the  world.  A  circumstance,  independent  of  Luther's 
will,  threw  him  into  the  field  of  battle,  and  the  war 
commenced.  This  providential  circumstance  we  are 
now  called  upon  to  relate. 


HISTORY  OP  THE  REFORMATION. 


BOOK    III. 


THE   INDULGENCES   AND   THESES — 1517,  1518. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Cortege— Tctzel—Tctzel's  Discom-sc— Coiifeasion— Four  Graces— Sale- 
Public  Penauce — A  Letter  of  Indulgence — Exceptions — Feasting  and 
Debauchery. 

At  this  period  the  people  of  Germany  were  all  in 
motion.  The  Chnrch  had  opened  a  vast  market  on 
tlie  earth.  From  the  crowd  of  cnstomers,  and  the  noise 
and  pleasantry  of  the  sellers,  one  would  have  thought 
it  a  fair,  only  a  fair  held  by  monks.  The  merchandise 
which  they  were  shewing  off,  aud  selling  a  bargain, 
was,  as  they  said,  the  salvation  of  souls. 

The  merchants  travelled  the  country  in  a  fine  car- 
riage, accompanied  by  three  mounted  attendants,  joiu-- 
neying  in  grand  style,  and  living  at  great  expense. 
One  would  have  said  it  was  some  high  mightiness  with 
his  suite  and  officers,  and  not  a  vulgar  dealer  or  mendi- 
cant monk.  When  the  cortege  approached  a  town,  a 
messenger  was  despatched  to  the  magi.strate  to  say, 
"  The  grace  of  God  and  of  St.  Peter  is  at  your  gates." 
Immediately  the  whole  place  was  in  motion.  Clergy, 
priest.s,  nuns,  the  council,  schoolmasters  and  their 
scholars,  the  incorporations  with  their  colours,  men 
and  women,  old  and  young,  went  out  to  meet  the  mer- 
chant with  lighted  tapers  in  their  hands,  amid  the 
sound  of  music  and  the  ringing  of  bells  ;  "insomuch," 
says  a  historian,  "that  God  liimself  could  not  have 
been  received  with  greater  honour."  After  the  for- 
malities were  over,  the  whole  body  proceeded  to  the 
church.  Tlie  Bull  of  Grace  by  the  pontiff  was  carried 
in  front,  on  a  velvet  cushion  or  cloth  of  gold.  Next 
came  the  chief  of  the  indulgence  merchant.?,  can-ying 
a  large  wooden  cross,  painted  red.  The  whole  pro- 
cession moved  forward,  amid  hymns,  prayers,  and  the 
smoke  of  incense.  The  merchant  monk  and  liis  atten- 
dants were  received  at  the  church  by  the  pealing 
organ,  and  thrilling  music.  The  cross  was  placed  iu 
front  of  the  altar,  and  over  it  the  pope's  arms  were 
suspended.  All  the  time  it  remained  there,  the  clergy 
of  the  place,  the  penitentiaries,  and  sub-commissaries, 
came  each  day,  after  vespers  or  before  the  salute,  to  do 
obeisance  to  it  with  white  wands  in  their  hands.  This 
grand  affair  produced  a  lively  sensation  in  the  quiet 
cities  of  Germany. 

At  these  sales  one  personage,  in  particular,  drew  the 
attention  of  the  spectators.  It  was  he  who  carried  the 
great  red  cross,  and  played  the  principal  chai'acter. 
He  was  clothed  in  the  dress  of  a  Dominican,  and  had 
an  arrogant  air.  His  voice  was  stentorian,  aud  though 
in  his  sixty-third  year,  he  seemed  still  in  fnll  vigour. 
This  man,  the  son  of  one  Diez,  a  Jeweller  of  Leipsic, 
was  called  John  Diezel,  or  Tetzel.  He  had  studied  in 
his  native  town,  became  bachelor  in  1487,  and  two 
years  after  entered  the  Dominican  order.     Numerous 


honours  had  accumulated  on  his  head.  Bachelor  in 
theology,  prior  of  the  Dominicans,  apostolic  commis- 
sary, inquisitor,  (limreticai  ^Jrauiifliis  inquisitor,)  he  had 
discharged  the  office  of  commissary  of  indulgences, 
without  intermission,  from  1502.  The  skill  which  he 
had  acquired  as  subaltern,  soon  raised  him  to  the  office 
of  commissary-iu-chief.  He  had  eighty  florins  a-month, 
aud  all  his  expenses  paid,  together  with  a  carriage  and 
three  horses ;  but  his  perquisites  (it  is  easy  to  com- 
prehend what  they  were)  far  exceeded  his  salary.  In 
1507,  at  Fribourg,  he  gained  two  thousand  florins  in  two 
days.  If  he  discharged  the  functions,  he  had  also  the 
manners  of  a  quack.  Convicted  of  adultery  and  shame- 
ful misconduct  at  luspruck,  his  vices  had  almost  cost 
him  his  life.  The  Emperor  Maximilian  had  ordered 
him  to  be  put  into  a  sack  and  tin-own  into  the  river ; 
but  the  Elector  Frederick  happening  to  arrive,  obtained 
his  pardon.  The  lesson  which  he  thus  received  had  not 
given  him  more  modesty;  for  he  had  two  of  his  child- 
ren along  with  him. 

Miltitz,  the  pope's  legate,  mentions  the  fact  iu  one  of 
his  letters.  It  would  have  been  difficult  to  find,  in  all 
the  cloisters  of  Germany,  a  man  better  fitted  for  the 
traffic  with  which  he  was  entrusted.  To  the  theology 
of  a  monk,  to  the  zeal  and  temper  of  an  inquisitor,  he 
united  the  greatest  effrontery;  but  the  thing  which, 
above  all,  made  the  task  easy  to  him,  was  his  skiU  iu 
inventing  extraordinary  stories  to  captivate  the  minds 
of  the  people.  To  him  all  means  were  good  that  filled 
his  coffers.  Raising  his  voice,  and  giving  free  vent  to 
his  vulgar  eloquence,  he  offered  his  indulgences  to 
every  comer,  and  knew  better  than  any  dealer  at  a  fair 
how  to  set  off  his  merchandise. 

After  the  cross  was  erected,  and  the  arms  of  the 
pope  suspended  over  it,  Tetzel  mounted  the  pulpit,  and 
with  a  tone  of  assurance  began  to  extol  the  value  of 
the  indulgences  in  presence  of  the  crowd  who  had  been 
attracted  to  the  church  by  the  ceremony.  The  people 
listened  and  stared  on  hearing  the  wondrous  virtues  of 
which  he  told  them.  A  Jesuit  historian,  speaking  of 
the  Dominicans,  with  whom  Tetzel  was  associated,  says, 
"  Some  of  these  preachers  failed  not,  as  usual,  to  out- 
rage the  subject  which  they  treated  ;  and  so  to  exag- 
gerate the  value  of  the  indulgences,  as  to  make  people 
suppose  they  were  certain  of  their  own  salvation,  and 
of  the  deliverance  of  souls  from  purgatory  as  soon  as 
the  money  was  paid."  If  such  were  the  scholars,  we 
may  judge  what  the  master  was.  Let  us  listen  to  one 
of  his  harangues  after  setting  up  the  cross. 

"  Indulgences  are  the  most  precious  and  most  sub- 
lime gift  of  God. 

"This  cross  (pointing  to  the  red  cross)  has  the  very 
same  efficacy  as  the  actual  cross  of  Jesus  Christ. 

"  Come,  and  I  will  give  you  letters  under  seal,  by 


TETZEL'S  SERMON  ON  INDUIjGENCES. 


^7h^ch  even  the  sins  which  you  may  have  a  desire  to 
commit  in  future  wU  all  be  forgiven. 

"  I  would  not  exchange  my  privileges  for  that  of  St. 
Peter  in  heaven  ;  for  I  liave  saved  more  souls  by  my 
indulgences  than  the  apostle  by  his  sermons. 

"There  is  no  sin  too  great  for  an  indulgence  to 
remit ;  and  even  should  any  one  (the  thing,  no  doubt, 
is  impossible)  have  done  violence  to  the  Holy  Virgin 
Mary,  mother  of  God,  let  him  pay, — let  him  only  pay 
well, — and  it  will  be  forgiven  him. 

"Think,  then,  tliat  for  each  mortal  sin  you  must, 
after  confession  and  contrition,  do  penance  for  seven 
years,  either  in  this  life  or  in  purgatory.  Now,  how 
many  mortal  sins  are  committed  in  one  day — in  one 
week  ?  How  many  in  a  month — a  year — a  whole  life  ? 
Ah !  these  sins  are  almost  innumerable,  and  innumer- 
able sufferings  must  be  endured  for  them  in  purgatory. 
And  now,  by  means  of  these  letters  of  indulgence,  you 
can  at  once,  for  life, — in  all  cases  except  four,  which 
are  reserved  to  the  Apostolic  See, — and  afterwards  at 
the  hour  of  death,  obtain  a  full  remission  of  all  your 
pains,  and  all  your  sins." 

Tetzel  even  made  financial  calculations  on  the  subject. 

"  Do  you  not  know,"  said  he,  "  that  when  a  man 
proposes  to  go  to  Rome,  or  to  any  other  country  where 
travellers  are  exposed  to  danger,  he  sends  his  money 
to  the  bank  ;  and  for  every  five  hundred  florins  that  he 
means  to  have,  gives  five,  or  six  at  most,  in  order  that, 
by  means  of  letters  from  the  bank,  he  may  receive  the 
money  safely  at  Rome  or  elsewhere.  .  .  .  And 
you,  for  the  fourth  of  a  florin,  will  not  receive  these 
letters  of  indulgence,  by  means  of  which  you  might 
introduce  into  the  land  of  paradise,  not  worthless 
money,  but  a  divine  and  immortal  soul,  without  expos- 
ing it  to  the  smallest  risk." 

Tetzel  next  passed  to  another  subject. 

"But  more  than  this,"  said  he;  "indulgences  not 
only  save  the  li\-ing ;  they  also  save  the  dead. 

"  For  this  repentance  is  not  even  necessarj'. 

"Priest ! — noble ! — merchant ! — wife ! — young  girls ! 
— ^young  men ! — hear  your  departed  parents,  and  your 
other  friends,  crying  to  you  from  the  bottom  of  the 
abyss,  '  AVe  are  enduring  horrible  torments  !  A  little 
alms  would  deliver  us ;  you  can  give  it,  and  yet  will 
not!'" 

These  words,  uttered  by  the  formidable  voice  of  the 
charlatan  monk,  made  his  hearers  shudder. 

"At  the  very  instant,"  continued  Tetzel,  "when  the 
piece  of  money  chinks  on  the  bottom  of  the  strong  box, 
the  soul  comes  out  of  purgatory,  and,  set  free,  flies  up- 
ward into  heaven." 

"  0  imbecile  and  brutish  people,  who  perceive  not 
the  grace  which  is  so  richly  offered  to  yo\i !  .  .  . 
Now  heaven  is  ever}Tvhere  open !  .  .  .  Do  you 
refuse  at  this  hour  to  enter  ?  When,  then,  will  you 
enter  ?  Now  you  can  ransom  so  many  souls  !  Hard- 
hearted and  thoughtless  man,  with  twelve  pence  you 
can  deliver  your  father  out  of  purgatory,  and  you  are 
ungrateful  enough  not  to  save  him  f  I  will  be  justified 
on  the  day  of  judgment ;  but  you,  you  will  be  punished 
so  much  the  more  severely,  for  having  neglected  so 
great  salvation.  I  declare  to  you,  that  though  you  had 
only  a  single  coat,  you  would  be  bound  to  take  it  off 
and  sell  it,  in  order  to  obtain  this  grace 


The  Lord  our  God  is  no  longer  God.  He  has  com- 
mitted all  power  to  the  pope." 

Then,  trying  to  avail  himself  of  other  weapons  still, 
he  added, — "  Know  you  why  our  most  holy  Lord  is 
distributing  so  great  a  grace  ?  His  object  is  to  raise 
up  the  ruined  church  of  St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul,  so  that 
it  may  not  have  its  equal  in  the  universe.  That  church 
contains  the  bodies  of  the  holy  apostles  Peter  and  Paul, 
and  of  a  multitude  of  martyrs.  Owing  to  the  actu.al 
state  of  the  building,  these  holy  bodies  are  now,  alas ! 
beaten,  flooded,  soiled,  dishonoured,    and  reduced   to 

rottenness,  by  the  rain  and  the  hail Ah  ! 

are  these  sacred  ashes  to  remain  longer  in  mud  and 
disgrace  V 

This  picture  failed  not  to  make  an  impression  on 
many  who  felt  a  burning  desire  to  go  to  the  help  of 
poor  Leo  X.,  who  had  not  wherewith  to  shelter  the 
bodies  of  St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul  from  the  raiu. 

Then  the  orator  opened  on  the  arguers  and  traitors 
who  opposed  his  work  :  "  I  declare  them  excommuni- 
cated," exclaimed  he. 

Afterwards,  addressing  docile  souls,  and  making  a 
profane  use  of  Scripture, — "  Happy  are  the  eyes  which 
see  what  you  sec ;  for  I  tell  you,  that  many  prophets 
and  many  kings  have  desired  to  see  the  things  which 
you  see,  and  have  not  seen  them;  and  to  hear  the 
things  which  you  hear,  and  have  not  heard  them." 
And  at  last,  shewing  the  strong  box  in  which  the 
money  was  received,  he  usually  concluded  his  pathetic 
discourse  with  this  triple  appeal  to  the  people :  "  Bring  ! 
— bring ! — bring ! "  "  These  words,"  says  Luther,  "  he 
uttered  with  such  horrible  bellowing,  that  one  might 
have  thought  it  was  a  mad  bull  making  a  rush  at 
people,  and  striking  them  with  his  horns."  When  his 
discourse  was  ended,  he  came  down  from  the  pulpit, 
ran  towards  the  chest,  and,  in  presence  of  the  people, 
chucked  a  piece  of  money  into  it,  taking  care  to  make 
it  give  a  very  loud  tinkle. 

Such  were  the  discom-ses  which  astonished  Germany 
heard  in  the  days  when  God  was  preparing  Luther. 

At  the  termination  of  the  discourse,  the  indidgence 
was  understood  "  to  have  established  its  throne  in  the 
place  in  due  form."  Confessionals  were  set  up  adorned 
with  the  pope's  arms.  The  sub-commissaries,  and  the 
confessors  whom  they  selected,  were  considered  to 
represent  the  apostolical  penitentiaries  of  Rome  at  the 
jubilee  ;  and  on  each  of  these  confessionals  were  posted, 
in  large  chai'acters,  their  names,  surnames,  and  desig- 
nations. 

Then  a  crowd  pressed  forward  to  the  confessor,  each 
coming  with  a  piece  of  money  in  his  hand.  Men, 
women,  and  children,  the  poor,  even  those  who  lived 
on  alms,  all  found  means  of  procuring  money.  The 
penitentiaries,  after  having  anew  explained  the  great- 
ness of  the  indulgence  to  each  individual,  asked,  "  How 
much  money  can  you  afford  to  part  with,  in  order  to 
obtain  so  complete  a  forgiveness?"  "This  question," 
says  the  Instruction  of  the  Archbishop  of  Jlentz  to  the 
commissaries, — '•  this  question  ought  to  be  put  at  this 
moment,  that  the  penitents  may  thereby  be  the  better 
disposed  to  contribute." 

Four  valuable  graces  were  promised  to  those  who 
aided  in  building  the  basilisk  of  St.  Peter.  "  The  first 
grace  which  we  announce  to  you,"  said  the  commissa- 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


Ties,  (according  to  their  Letter  of  Instruction.)  "  is  the 
complete  pardon  of  all  sins."  After  this  came  three 
other  graces,—^)*?,  the  right  of  choosing  a  confessor, 
who,  whenever  the  hour  of  death  should  seem  to  be  at 
hand,  would  give  absolution  from  all  sins,  and  even 
from  the  greatest  crimes  reserved  for  the  apostolic 
see ;  second,  a  participation  in  all  the  blessings,  works, 
and  merits  of  the  Catholic  Church,  in  prayers,  fast- 
ings, alms,  and  pilgi-images  ;  and,  third,  the  redemp- 
tion of  the  souls  which  are  in  purgatory. 

To  obtain  the  first  of  these  rraces,  it  was  necessary 
to  have  contrition  of  heart,  and  confession  of  the  lips, 


THE  010  COUNCIL-HOUSE,  LEIPSIO. 
or,  at  least,  the  intention  of  confessing.  But  for  the 
thi-ee  others,  they  could  be  obtained  without  contrition 
or  confession,  merely  by  paying.  Previous  to  this, 
Chi-istopher  Columbus,  extolling  the  value  of  gold,  had 
said  quite  gi-avely,  -  He  who  possesses  it  may  intro- 
duce souls  into  paradise."  Such  -sras  the  doctrine 
taught  by  the  Archbishop-Cardinal  of  Mentz,  and  the 
commissaries  of  the  pope.  "As  to  those,"  said  they, 
"  who  would  deliver  souls  from  purgatory,  and  procure 
for  them  pardon  of  all  their  offences,  let  them  throw 
money  into  the  chest.  It  is  not  necessary  for  them  to 
have  contrition  of  the  heart,  or  confession  of  the  lips. 
Let  them  only  hasten  ivith  their  money;  for  they  will 
thus  do  a  work  most  useful  to  the  souls  of  the  de- 
parted, and  to  the  erection  cf  the  church  of  St.  Peter." 
Greater  blessings  could  not  be  offered  at  a  cheaper 
rate. 

When  the  confession  was  over  (and  it  did  not  fake 
long)  the  faithful  hastened  towards  the  seller.     Oue 


only  had  charge  of  the  sale,  and  kept  his  counter  near 
the  cross.  He  carefully  eyed  those  who  approached  him, 
— examining  their  air,  bearing,  and  dress, — and  asked 
a  sum  proportioned  to  the  appearance  which  each  pre- 
sented. Kings,  queens,  princes,  archbishops,  bishops, 
were,  according  to  the  regulation,  to  pay  twenty-five 
ducats  for  an  ordinary  indulgence.  Abbots,  counts, 
and  barons,  paid  ten.  Others  of  the  nobDity,  rectors, 
and  all  who  had  an  income  of  five  hundred  florins,  paid 
six.  Those  who  had  two  hundred  florins  a-year,  paid 
one ;  others,  only  a  half.  Moreover,  when  the  tax 
could  not  be  followed  to  the  letter,  full  powers  were 
given  to  the  commissary-apostolic,  who  was  to  arrange 
everything  in  accordance  T\-ith  the  dictates  of  "  sound 
reason,"  and  the  generosity  of  the  donor.  For  parti- 
cular sins,  Tetzel  had  a  particular  tax.  Polygamy  paid 
six  ducats  ;  theft  in  a  church,  and  perjury,  nine  ducats; 
murder,  eight  ducats ;  magic,  two  ducats.  Samson,  who 
carried  on  the  same  traffic  in  Switzerland  as  Tetzel  in 
Germany,  had  a  somewhat  different  tax.  For  infanti- 
cide, he  charged  four  Uvres  tournois;  for  parricide  or 
fratricide,  a  ducat. 

The  apostolic  commissaries  sometimes  encountered 
difficulties  in  carrying  on  their  trade.  It  often  hap- 
pened, both  in  towns  and  villages,  that  husbands  were 
opposed  to  the  whole  concern,  and  prohibited  their 
■wives  from  giving  anything  to  these  merchants.  TThat. 
then,  were  devout  spouses  to  do  ?  "  Have  you  not 
your  dowi-y,  or  some  other  property,  at  your  own  dis- 
posal V  asked  the  dealers.  "  In  that  case  we  may  dis- 
pose of  part  for  so  sacred  a  purpose,  even  against  the 
will  of  your  husbands." 

The  hand  which  had  given  the  indulgence  could  not 
receive  the  money.  This  was  prohibited  under  the 
severest  penalties ;  for  there  might  be  good  reason  to 
suspect  that  that  hand  would  not  have  been  faithful. 
Tlie  penitent  himself  behoved  to  deposit  the  price  of  his 
pardon  in  the  chest.  Angry  looks  were  given  to  those 
who  were  audacious  enough  not  to  open  their  purses. 

If  among  those  who  pressed  forward  to  the  confes- 
sionals, there  happened  to  be  any  one  whose  crime  was 
publicly  known,  though  of  a  kind  which  the  civil  law 
could  not  reach,  he  behoved,  first  of  all,  to  do  public 
penance.  For  this  purpose,  they  first  led  him  to  a 
chapel  or  sacristy,  where  they  stripped  him  of  his 
clothes,  and  took  off  his  shoes,  leaving  him  nothing  but 
his  shirt.  His  arms  were  crossed  upon  his  breast,  a 
light  placed  in  one  hand,  and  a  rod  in  the  other.  Then 
the  penitent  walked  at  the  head  of  the  procession  which 
proceeded  to  the  red  cross.  He  remained  on  his  knees 
till  the  chant  and  the  collect  was  finished.  Then  the 
commissary  gave  out  the  Psalm,  Miserere  mei.  The 
confessors  immediately  approached  the  penitent,  and 
led  him  across  the  church  towai'ds  the  commissary, 
who,  taking  the  rod  from  his  hand,  and  gently  striking 
him  thrice  on  the  back  with  it,  said  to  him,  '•  The  Lord 
have  pity  on  thee,  and  forgive  thy  sin."  He  then 
gave  out  the  Ki/rie  eleison.  The  penitent  was  led  back 
to  the  front  of  the  cross,  and  the  confessor  gave  him 
the  apostolic  absolution,  and  declared  him  restored  to 
the  company  of  the  faithful.  Sad  mummery,  concluded 
with  a  holy  expression,  which,  at  such  a  moment, 
was  mere  profanation ! 

It  is  worth  while  to  know  the  contents  of  one 


t\\ 


HUMILIATION- (SCENE:  GATE  OF  THE  AUGUSTINE  MONASTERY  AT  ERPURTH)  AUTUMN.  1505 


LETTER  OF  INDULGENCE. 


those  diplomas  of  absolution,  which  led  to  the  Refor- 
mation of  the  Churcii.  The  following  is  a  specimen : 
— "  May  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  have  pity  on  thee, 
N.  N.,  and  absolve  thee  by  the  merit  of  Ilis  most  holy 
passion.  And  I,  in  virtue  of  the  apostolic  power 
entrusted  to  me,  absolve  thee  from  all  ecclesiastical 
censures,  judgments,  and  penalties,  which  thou  mayest 
have  deserved ;  moreover,  from  all  the  excesses,  sins, 
and  crimes,  which  thou  mayest  have  committed,  how 
great  and  enormous  soever  they  may  have  been,  and 
ifor  whatever  cause,  even  should  they  have  been  re- 
served to  our  most  holy  father  the  pope,  and  to  the 
apostolic  see.  I  efface  all  the  marks  of  disability,  and 
tdl  the  notes  of  infamy  which  thou  mayest  have  incur- 
red on  this  occasion.  I  remit  the  pains  which  thou 
shouldest  have  to  endure  in  purgatory.  I  render  thee 
anew  a  partaker  in  the  sacraments  of  the  Church.  I 
again  incorporate  thee  into  the  communion  of  saints, 
and  re-establish  thee  in  the  innocence  and  purity  in 
which  thou  wert  at  the  hour  of  thy  baptism ;  so  that, 
at  the  moment  of  thy  death,  the  gate  of  entrance  to  the 
place  of  pains  and  torments  will  be  shut  to  thee ;  and, 
on  the  contrary,  the  gate  which  leads  to  the  heavenly 
paradise  will  be  opened  to  thee.  If  thou  art  not  to 
die  soon,  this  grace  will  remain  unimpaired  till  thy  last 
hour  arrive.  In  the  name  of  the  Father,  and  of  the 
I     Son,  and  of  the  Holy  Spirit.     Amen. 

"  Friar  John  Tetzel,  commissary,  has  signed  it  with 
his  own  hand." 

How  dexterously  presumptuous  and  lying  words  are 
here  intermingled  with  holy  Christian  expressions ! 
All  the  faithful  required  to  come  and  confess  at  the 
i    place  where  the  red  cross  was  erected.     The  only  ex- 
ceptions were  the  sick,  the  aged,  and  pregnant  women. 
If,  however,  there  happened  to  be  in  the  neighbour- 
I    hood  some  noble  in  his  castle,  or  some  great  personage 
in  his  palace,  there  was  an  exemption  for  him;  for  he 
might  not  care  to  mingle  with  the  crowd,  and  his  money 
was  worth  the  going  for. 

If  there  happened  to  be  a  convent  whose  heads  were 
opposed  to  the  traffic  of  Tetzel,  and  prohibited  their 
monks  from  visiting  the  places  where  the  indulgence 
had  erected  its  throne,  means  were  still  found  to  re- 
medy the  evil,  by  sending  them  confessors,  who  were 
commissioned  to  absolve  them  against  the  will  of  their 
order,  and  the  will  of  their  heads.  There  was  not  a 
j  vein  in  the  mine,  however  small,  which  they  did  not 
find  means  of  working. 

At  length  they  arrived  at  the  object  and  end  of  the 
whole  affair ;  the  summing  up  of  the  cash.  For  greater 
security,  the  strong  box  had  three  keys, — one  in  the 
hands  of  Tetzel ;  the  second  in  those  of  the  treasurer, 
appointed  by  the  firm  of  Fiigger  of  Augsburg,  who  had 
hcen  appointed  agents  in  this  vast  enterprise;  while 
the  third  was  entrusted  to  the  civil  authority.  When 
the  moment  arrived,  the  counters  were  opened  in  the 
presence  of  a  notary-public,  and  the  whole  was  duly 
counted  and  recorded.  Must  not  Christ  arise  and 
drive  these  profane  sellers  from  the  temple  ! 

The  mission  being  closed,  the  dealers  relaxed  from 
their  labours.  It  is  true  the  instructions  of  the  com- 
missary-general forbade  them  to  frequent  taverns  and 
suspicious  places ;  but  they  cared  little  for  this  prohi- 
bition.   Sin  must  have  appeared  a  very  trivial  matter 


to  people  who  had  such  an  easy  trade  in  it.     "The 
mendicants,"  says  a  Roman  Catholic  historian,  "  led  a 
bad  life,   expending  in  taverns,  gaming-houses,  and 
places  of  infamy,  what  the  people  retrenched  from  their     ; 
necessities."     It  is  even  averred,  that  in  taverns  they    ! 
sometimes  played  at  dice  for  the  salvation  of  souls. 


CHAPTER  II. 

The  Franciscan  Confessor— The  Soul  in  the  Burjing-Ground— The  Shoe- 
maker of  Hagenaii— Tlie  Students— Myconius— Conversation  with  Tetzel 
— Stratascm  by  a  Gentleman— Conversation  of  the  Wise  and  of  the 
People— A  Miner  of  Schneeberg. 

BcT  let  us  look  at  some  of  the  scenes  which  then  took 
place  in  Germany  during  this  sale  of  the  pardon  of 
sins  ;  for  we  here  meet  with  anecdotes  which,  by  them- 
selves alone,  give  a  picture  of  the  times.  As  we  pro- 
ceed with  our  narrative,  we  deem  it  best  to  let  men 
speak  for  themselves. 

At  Magdebourg  Tetzel  refused  to  absolve  a  wealthy 
female,  unless  she  would  pay  him  one  hundred  florins 
in  advance.  She  consulted  her  ordinary  confessor, 
who  was  a  Franciscan.  "  God,"  replied  he,  "  gives  the 
remission  of  sins  freely,  and  does  not  sell  it."  How- 
ever, he  begged  her  not  to  tell  Tetzel  what  advice  he 
had  given  her.  But  the  merchant  having  somehow  or 
other  heard  of  words  so  injurious  to  his  interest,  ex- 
claimed, "  Such  an  adviser  deserves  to  be  banished  or 
burned." 

TetKel  rarely  found  men  enlightened  enough,  and  still 
more  rarely  men  bold  enough,  to  resist  him.  For  the 
most  part  he  had  a  good  market  from  the  superstitious 
crowd.  He  had  erected  the  red  cross  of  indulgences  at 
Zwickau,  and  the  good  parishioners  had  hastened  to 
make  the  money,  which  was  to  deliver  them,  chink  on 
the  bottom  of  the  chest.  He  was  going  away  with  a 
well-filled  purse.  The  evening  before  his  departure, 
the  chaplains  and  their  attendants  applied  to  him  for  a 
farewell  entertainment.  The  request  was  reasonable ; 
but  how  was  it  possible  to  comply  with  it  ? — the  money 
was  already  counted  and  sealed  up.  The  next  morn- 
ing he  orders  the  large  bell  to  be  rung.  Crowds 
hastened  to  the  church,  every  one  thinking  that  some- 
thing extraordinary  must  have  happened,  as  the  station 
was  closed.  '•  I  had  resolved,"  said  he,  "  to  depart 
this  morning,  but  last  night  was  awoke  by  groans.  Ou 
listening,  I  found  they  came  from  the  burying-ground. 
Alas  !  it  was  a  poor  soul  calling  and  entreating  me  in- 
stantly to  deliver  it  from  the  torment  by  which  it  was 
consumed.  I  have,  therefore,  remained  one  day  more, 
in  order  to  stir  up  the  compassion  of  Christian  hearts 
in  favour  of  this  unhappy  soul.  I  am  willing  myself 
to  be  the  first  to  give,  and  whosoever  does  not  follow 
my  example  will  deserve  damnation."  AVhat  heart 
would  not  have  responded  to  such  an  appeal  ?  "Who 
knew,  moreover,  whose  soul  it  was  that  was  crying  in 
the  burying-ground  ?  The  people  contributed  freely, 
and  Tetzel  gave  the  chaplains  and  their  attendants  a 
jovial   entertainment,    defraying  the  expense   by  the 


74 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


offerings  -wliich  he  had  received  iu  favour  of  the  soul 
of  Zwickau. 

The  indulgence  merchants  had  fixed  their  station  at 
Hagenau  in  1517.  A  slioemaker's  wife,  taking  advan- 
tage of  the  autliority  of  the  instruction  of  the  commis- 
sary-general, had,  contrary  to  the  will  of  her  husband, 
procured  a  letter  of  indulgence,  and  paid  a  gold  florin 
for  it.  She  died  shortly  after.  The  husband  not  hav- 
ing caused  mass  to  be  said  for  the  repose  of  her  soul, 
the  curate  charged  him  with  contempt  of  religion,  and 
the  judge  of  Hagenau  summoned  him  to  appear.  The 
shoemaker  put  his  wife's  indulgence  in  his  pocket,  and 
repaired  to  the  court.  "Is  your  wife  dead?"  asked 
the  judge. — "  Yes,"  replied  he.  "  What  liave  you  done 
for  her  r' — "I  have  buried  her  body,  and  commended 
her  soul  to  God."  "  But  have  you  caused  a  mass  to 
be  said  for  the  salvation  of  her  soul  1" — "  I  have  not ; 
it  was  unnecessary.  She  entered  heaven  the  moment 
of  her  death."  "  How  do  you  know  that?" — "  Here  is 
the  proof."  So  saying,  he  takes  the  indulgence  out  of 
his  pocket,  and  the  judge,  in  presence  of  the  curate, 
reads  in  as  many  words,  that  the  woman  who  received 
it  would  not  enter  purgatory,  but  go  straight  to  heaven. 
"  If  the  reverend  curate  maintains  that  a  mass  is  still 
necessary,  my  wife  has  been  cheated  by  our  most  holy 
father  the  pope.  If  she  was  not  cheated,  then  it  is  the 
reverend  curate  who  is  cheating  me."  This  was  un- 
answerable, and  the  accused  was  acquitted.  Thus  the 
good  sense  of  the  people  did  justice  to  these  pious 
frauds. 

One  day  when  Tetzel  was  preaching  at  Leipsic,  and 
introducing  into  his  sermons  some  of  those  stories  of 
which  wo  have  given  a  sample,  two  students,  feeling 
quite  indignant,  rose  uj)  and  left  the  church,  exclaim- 
ing, "It  is  impossible  fof  us  to  listen  longer  to  the 
drolleries  and  puerilities  of  this  monk."  One  of  them, 
it  is  said,  was  young  Camerarius,  afterwards  the  inti- 
mate friend  of  Melancthon,  and  his  biographer. 

But  of  all  the  young  men  of  the  period,  he  on  whom 
Tetzel  made  the  strongest  impression  unquestionably 
was  Myconius,  afterwards  celebrated  as  a  Eeformer, 
and  historian  of  the  Eeformation.  He  had  received  a 
Christian  education.  His  father,  a  pious  man  of  Fran- 
conia,  was  wont  to  say  to  him,  "My  son,  pray  fre- 
quently; for  all  things  are  freely  given  to  us  by  God 
alone.  The  blood  of  Christ,"  added  he,  "  is  the  only 
ransom  for  the  sins  of  the  whole  world.  O  my  sou ! 
were  there  only  three  men  that  could  be  saved  by  the 
blood  of  Christ,  believe,  and  believe  vnth  confidence, 
that  thou  art  one  of  the  three.  It  is  an  iustilt  to  the 
blood  of  the  Saviour  to  doubt  if  it  saves."  Then 
cautioning  his  son  against  the  traffic  which  was  begin- 
ning to  be  established  in  Germany, — "The  Roman 
indulgences,"  said  he  to  hira,  "  are  nets  which  fish  for 
money,  and  deceive  the  simple.  The  forgiveness  of 
sins,  and  of  eternal  life,  are  not  things  for  sale." 

At  the  age  of  thirteen  Frederick  Myconius  was 
sent  to  the  school  of  Annabcrg  to  finish  his  studies. 
Shortly  aftei-,  Tetzel  arrived  iu  the  town,  and  remained 
in  it  for  two  years.  Tlie  people  flocked  in  crowds  to 
his  sermon.  "  There  is  no  other  method,"  exclaimed 
Tetzel,  iu  his  voice  of  thunder, — "  there  is  no  other 
method  of  obtaining  eternal  life  than  the  satisfaction 
of  works ;  but  this  satisfaction  is  impossible  for  man, 


and,  therefore,  all  he  can  do  is  to  purchase  it  from  the 
Roman  pontiff."  When  Tetzel  was  about  to  quit  Anna- 
berg,  his  addresses  became  more  m-gent.  "  Soon,"  ex- 
claimed he,  in  a  threatening  tone, — "  soon  will  I  take 
down  the  cross,  shut  the  gate  of  heaven,  and  quench 
the  lustre  of  that  sun  of  gi-ace  which  is  now  shining  in 
your  eyes."  Then  resuming  the  gentle  accent  of  per- 
suasion, "  Now,"  said  he,  "  is  the  accepted  time,  now 
is  the  day  of  salvation."  Then  raising  his  voice  anew, 
the  pontifical  Stentor,  who  was  addressing  the  inha- 
bitants of  a  rich  mineral  district,  loudly  exclaimed, 
"Bring  your  money,  burghers  of  Annaberg,  contri- 
bute largely  in  behalf  of  the  indulgences,  and  your 
mines  and  your  mountains  will  be  filled  with  piu'e 
silver."  In  conclusion,  he  declared  that  at  Pentecost 
he  would  distribute  his  letters  to  the  poor  gratuitously, 
and  for  the  love  of  God. 

Y''oung  Myconius,  being  among  the  number  of  Tetzel's 
hearei-s,  felt  an  eager  desire  to  avail  himself  of  this 
offer.  Going  up  to  the  commissaries,  he  said  to  them 
in  Latin,  "  I  am  a  poor  sinner,  and  need  a  gratuitous 
pardon  ! "  The  merchants  replied,  "  Those  alone  can 
have  part  in  the  merits  of  Jesus  Christ  who  lend  a 
helping-hand  to  the  Chiu-ch, — iu  other  words,  who 
give  money."  "What  is  the  meaning,  then,"  said 
Myconius,  "  of  those  promises  of  free  gift,  which  are 
posted  up  on  the  walls  and  doors  of  the  churches?" 
"  Give  at  least  a  shilling,"  said  Tetzel's  people  who  had 
gone  to  their  master,  and  interceded  with  him  for  the 
young  man,  but  without  effect.  "I  am  not  able." 
"  Only  sixpence." — "  I  liave  not  even  so  much."  The 
Dominicans  then  began  to  fear  that  he  wished  to  en- 
trap them.  "Listen,"  said  they  to  him,  "we  will 
make  you  a  present  of  the  sixpence."  The  young  luan, 
raising  his  voice  in  indignation,  answered,  "I  want  no 
indulgences  that  are  purchased.  If  I  wished  to  pur- 
chase, I  would  only  have  to  sell  one  of  my  school- 
books.  I  want  a  free  pardon,  given  purely  for  the 
love  of  God,  and  you  will  have  to  give  account  to  God 
for  having  allowed  the  salvation  of  a  soul  to  be  lost  for 
a  sixpence."  "  Who  sent  you  to  entrap  us  ?  "  exclaimed 
the  merchants. — "  Nothing  but  the  desire  of  receiving 
the  gi-ace  of  God  could  have  tempted  me  to  appear 
before  such  mighty  lords,"  replied  the  young  man,  and 
withdrew. 

"  I  was  much  gi-ieved,"  said  he,  "  at  being  sent  thus 
pitilessly  away;  but  I  still  felt  within  myself  a  Com- 
forter, who  told  me  that  there  was  a  God  in  heaven, 
who,  without  money  and  without  price,  pardons  re- 
penting sinners  for  the  love  of  His  Son  Jesus  Christ. 
As  I  was  taking  leave  of  those  people,  I  melted  into 
tears,  and,  sobbing,  prayed,  '  O  God !  since  these  men 
have  refused  me  the  forgiveness  of  my  sins,  because  I 
had  no  money  to  pay  for  it,  do  thou,  O  Lord!  have 
pity  on  me,  and  forgive  my  sins  iu  pure  mercy!'  I 
went  to  my  lodging,  and  taking  up  my  crucifix,  which 
was  lying  on  my  desk,  laid  it  on  my  chair,  and  pros-  ! 
trated  myself  before  it.  I  cannot  describe  what  I  felt,  i 
I  asked  God  to  be  my  Father,  and  to  do  with  me  what-  ; 
soever  He  pleased.  I  felt  my  nature  changed,  con- 
verted, and  transformed.  Wliat  formerly  delighted  me, 
now  excited  ray  disgust.  To  live  with  God,  and  please 
Him,  was  my  strongest,  my  only  desire."  Thus  Tetzel 
himself  contributed  to  the  Reformation.    By  crying  . 


OPINIONS  OF  THE  PEOPLE. 


abuses  he  paved  the  way  for  a  purer  doctrine,  and  the 
indignation  which  he  excited  in  a  generous  youth  was 
one  day  to  break  forth  mightily.  We  may  judge  of 
this  by  the  following  anecdote. 

A  Saxon  gentleman,  who  had  heard  Tetzel  at  Leipsie, 
felt  his  indignation  aroused  by  his  falsehoods ;  and  go- 
ing up  to  the  monk,  asked  him  whether  he  had  power 
to  pardon  the  sins  which  were  intended  to  be  com- 
mitted?— "Assuredly,"  replied  Tetzel.  "I  have  full 
power  from  the  pope  to  do  so."  "Well,  then,"  re- 
sumed the  knight,  "there  is  one  of  my  enemies  on 
whom  I  shoiild  like  to  take  a  slight  revenge  without 
doing  him  any  de.idly  injury,  and  I  will  give  you  ten 
crowns  in  return  for  a  letter  of  indulgence,  which  will 
completely  acquit  me."  Tetzel  made  some  objections : 
at  last,  however,  they  came  to  an  agreement  for  thirty 
crowns.  Soon  after  the  monk  quits  Leipsie.  The 
gentleman,  accompanied  l)y  his  servants,  waited  for 
him  in  a  wood  between  Jiiterboch  and  Treblin,  and 
rushing  out  upon  him,  and  giving  him  some  blows  with 
a  stick,  carried  off  the  rich  indulgence  chest,  which  the 
inquisitor  had  with  him.  Tetzel  cries  out  robbery, 
and  carries  his  complaint  before  the  judges ;  but  the 
gentleman  shews  the  letter  with  Tetzel's  own  signature, 
exempting  him  beforehand  from  all  punishment.  Duke 
George,  who  had  at  first  been  very  angi-y,  on  seeing 
the  document  ordered  the  accused  to  be  acquitted. 

This  traffic  everT^-here  occupied  men's  thoughts, 
and  was  everywhere  talked  of.  It  was  the  subject  of 
conversation  in  castles,  in  academies,  and  at  the  fire- 
sides of  the  citizens,  as  well  as  in  inns  and  taverns,  and 
all  places  of  public  resort.  Opinions  were  divided, — 
some  believing,  and  others  expressing  indignation. 
I  The  sensible  portion  of  the  community  rejected  the 
I  whole  system  of  indulgences  with  disgust.  It  was  so 
I  contrary  to  Scripture  and  to  morality,  that  all  who  had 
any  knowledge  of  the  Bible,  or  any  natural  light,  con- 
demned it  in  their  hearts,  and  only  waited  for  a  signal 
to  declare  their  opposition  to  it.  On  the  other  hand, 
scoffers  found  ample  materials  for  raillery.  The  people, 
who  had  for  many  years  been  irritated  by  the  miscon- 
duct of  the  priests,  and  whom  nothing  but  the  fear  of 
punishment  induced  to  keep  up  a  certain  shew  of  respect, 
gave  free  vent  to  their  hatred.  Complaints  and  sar- 
casms were  everywhere  heard  on  theavariceof  theclergy. 
Nor  did  they  stop  here.  They  even  attacked  the 
power  of  the  keys,  and  the  authority  of  the  sovereign 
pontiff.  "  Why,"  said  they,  "  does  not  the  pope  deliver 
all  souls  from  purgatory  at  once  from  a  holy  charity, 
and  in  consideration  of  the  sad  misery  of  these  souls, 
seeing  he  delivers  so  great  a  number  for  the  love  of 
perishable  money,  and  of  the  cathedral  of  St.  Peter? 
Wliy  do  feasts  and  anniversaries  of  the  dead  continue 
to  he  celebrated  ?  AMiy  does  not  the  pope  restore  or 
allow  others  to  resume  the  benefices  and  prebends 
which  have  been  founded  in  favour  of  the  dead,  since 
it  is  now  useless,  and  even  reprehensible,  to  pray  for 
those  whom  indulgences  have  for  ever  delivered  ?" 
"What  kind  of  new  holiness  in  God  and  the  pope  is 
this — from  a  love  of  money  to  enable  a  wicked  profane 
man  to  deliver  a  pious  soul  beloved  of  the  Lord  from 
purgatory,  rather  than  deliver  it  themselves  gratuitously 
from  love,  and  because  of  its  great  -wretchedness."' 

I  Lutliei'3  "Theses  on  Indulgences,"  (Th.  82,  S3,  e(  St) 


The  gross  and  immoral  conduct  of  the  traffickers  in 
indulgences  was  much  talked  of.  "  In  iiaj-ing  carriers 
for  transporting  them  with  their  goods,  the  innkeepers 
with  whom  they  lodge,  or  any  one  who  does  any  piece 
of  work  for  them,  they  give  a  letter  of  indulgence  for 
four,  five,  or  any  number  of  souls,  as  the  case  may  be." 
In  this  w.ay  the  diplomas  of  salvation  were  cuiTcnt  in 
inns  and  in  markets,  like  bank  bills  or  paper  money. 
"  Bring!  bring! "  said  the  common  people,  "  is  the  head, 
the  belly,  the  tail,  and  the  whole  body  of  the  sermon." 

A  miner  of  Schneeberg,  meeting  a  seller  of  indul- 
gences, asked, — "Must  we  indeed  give  credit  to  what 
you  have  often  said  of  the  power  of  the  indulgence, 
and  of  the  authority  of  the  pope,  and  believe  it  pos- 
sible, by  throwing  a  penny  into  the  box,  to  ransom  a 
soul  from  purgatory?"  The  merchant  assured  him  it 
was  true.  "  Ah  ! "  resumed  the  miner,  "  what  an  un- 
merciful man  the  pope  must  be,  for  a  paltry  penny  to 
leave  a  miserable  soul  so  long  crying  in  the  flames  !  If 
he  has  no  ready  money,  let  him  borrow  some  hundred 
thousand  crowns,  and  deliver  all  these  people  at  once. 
We  poor  folks  will  willingly  pay  him  both  the  interest 
and  the  capital."  Thus  Germany  was  weary  of  the 
shameful  traffic  which  was  going  on  in  the  midst  of 
her,  and  could  no  longer  tolerate  the  impostures  of 
these  master-swindlers  of  Eome,  as  Luther  calls  them. 
Yet  no  bishop,  no  theologian,  durst  oppose  their 
quackery  and  their  fraud.  The  minds  of  men  were 
in  suspense,  and  asked  whether  God  would  not  raise 
up  some  mighty  man  for  the  work  which  required  to 
be  done  ?     This  man  nowhere  appeared. 


CHAPTER  ni. 


The  pope  then  on  the  pontifical  throne  was  not  a 
Borgia,  but  Leo  X.,  of  the  illustrious  house  of  Medici. 
He  was  able,  frank,  kind,  and  gentle.  His  address 
was  affable,  his  liberality  without  bounds,  and  his 
morals  superior  to  those  of  his  court.  Cardin.al  Pal- 
lavieini,  however,  acknowledges  that  they  were  not 
altogether  irreproachable.  To  this  amiable  character 
he  joined  several  of  the  qualities  of  a  gi'eat  prince,  j 
He  shewed  himself  friendly  to  science  and  art.  The  j 
first  Italian  comedies  were  represented  in  his  presence ; 
and  there  are  few  of  his  day  which  he  did  not  see  per- 
formed. He  was  passionately  fond  of  music.  Musical 
instruments  resounded  every  day  in  his  palace ;  and  he 
was  often  heard  humming  the  airs  which  had  been 
performed  before  him.  He  was  fond  of  magnificence, 
and  spared  nothing  when  fetes,  games,  theatricals,  jire- 
sents,  or  rewards,  were  in  question.  No  court  sur- 
passed that  of  the  sovereign  pontiff  in  splendour  and 
gaiety.  Accordingly,  when  it  was  learned  that  Julian 
Medicis  was  proposing  to  reside  at  Rome  with  his 
young  bride, — "  God  be  praised,"  exclaimed  Cardinal 
Bibliena,  the  most  influential  counsellor  of  Loo  X., 
"  the  only  thing  we  wanted  was  a  female  com't."    A 


HISTOEY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


female  court  was  necessary  to  complete  tlie  court  of 
the  pope.  To  religious  sentiment  Leo  was  completely 
a  stranger.  "  His  manners  were  so  pleasing,"  says 
Sarpi,  "  that  he  would  have  been  perfect  if  he  had  had 
some  acquaintance  with  religious  matters,  and  been 
somewhat  more  inclined  to  piety,  which  seldom,  if  ever, 
gave  him  any  concern." 

Leo  was  greatly  in  want  of  money.  He  had  to  pro- 
vide for  his  immense  expenditure ;  supply  all  his  libe- 
ralities ;  fill  the  purse  of  gold  which  he  daily  threw  to 
the  people ;  keep  up  the  licentious  exhibitions  of  the 
Vatican  ;  satisfy  the  numerous  demands  of  his  relations 
and  voluptuous  courtiers ;  give  a  dowry  to  his  sister, 
who  had  been  married  to  Prince  Cibo, — a  natural  son 
of  Pope  Innocent  VIII.;  and  meet  the  expenditure 
occasioned  by  his  taste  for  literature,  arts,  and  plea- 
sure.    His  cousin.  Cardinal  Pucci,  as  skilful  in  the  art 


LEO  X., 

(From  an  Original  Picture  hy  Raffaclk.) 

of  hoarding  as  Leo  in  that  of  lavishing,  advised  him 
to  have  recourse  to  indulgences.  Accordingly,  the 
pope  published  a  bull,  announcing  a  general  indulgence, 
the  proceeds  of  which  were,  he  said,  to  be  employed 
in  the  erection  of  the  church  of  St.  Peter,  that  monu- 
ment of  sacerdotal  magnificence.  In  a  letter,  dated  at 
Rome,  under  the  seal  of  the  Fisherman,  in  November, 
1517,  Leo  applies  to  his  commissary  of  indulgences  for 
one  hundred  and  forty-seven  gold  ducats,  to  pay  a 
manuscript  of  the  thirty-third  book  of  Livy.  Of  all 
the  uses  to  which  he  put  the  money  of  the  Germans, 
this  was,  doubtless,  the  best.  Still,  it  was  strange  to 
deliver  souls  from  purgatory,  in  order  to  purchase  a 
manuscript  history  of  the  wars  of  the  Roman  people. 

There  was  at  this  time  in  Germany  a  young  prince 
who  might  be  regarded  as,  in  many  respects,  a  liv- 
ing image  of  Leo  X.  This  was  Albert,— a  younger 
brother  of  the  Elector  Joachim  of  Brandenburg.  At 
twenty-four  years  of  age  he  had  been  appointed  arch- 
bishop and  elector  of  Mentz  and  of  Magdebourg,  and 


two  years  after  made  a  cardinal.  Albert  had  neither 
the  virtues  nor  the  vices  which  are  often  met  with  in 
the  high  dignitaries  of  the  Church.  Young,  fickle, 
worldly,  but  not  without  some  generous  feelings,  he 
was  perfectly  aware  of  many  of  the  abuses  of  Catho- 
licism, and  cared  little  for  the  fanatical  monks  by 
whom  he  was  surrounded.  His  equity  disposed  hini, 
in  part  at  least,  to  acknowledge  the  justice  of  what  the 
friends  of  the  Gospel  demanded.  In  his  secret  heart 
he  was  not  much  opposed  to  Luther.  Capito,  one  of 
the  most  distinguished  Reformers,  was  long  his  chap- 
lain, counsellor,  and  confidant.  Albert  regularly  at- 
tended his  sermons.  "  He  did  not  despise  the  Gospel," 
says  Capito  ;  "  on  the  contrary',  he  highly  esteemed  it, 
and  for  a  long  time  would  not  allow  the  monks  to 
attack  Luther."  But  he  would  have  liked  Luther  not 
to  compromise  him,  and  to  take  good  care,  while  expos- 
ing the  doctrinal  errors  and  vices  of  the  inferior  clergy, 
not  to  disclose  the  faults  of  bishops  and  princes.  In 
particular,  he  was  most  anxious  that  his  name  should 
not  be  mixed  up  with  the  affair.  His  confidant, 
Capito,  who  had  imposed  upon  himself,  as  men  of- 
ten do  in  situations  similar  to  his,  thus  addressed 
Luther :  "  Look  to  the  example  of  Jesus  Christ  and 
the  apostles ;  they  rebuked  the  Pharisees  and  the  in- 
cestuous men  of  Corinth,  but  they  never  expressly 
named  them.  You  know  not  what  is  passing  in  the 
hearts  of  the  bishops ;  and,  perhaps,  there  is  more 
good  in  them  than  you  suppose."  But  the  fickle  and 
profane  spirit  of  Albert,  still  more  than  the  suscepti- 
bilities and  fears  of  his  self-love,  estranged  him  from 
the  Reformation.  Affable,  clever,  handsome,  extrava- 
gant, and  wasteful;  deli,Lih(iiiu'  in  the  pleasures  of  the 
table,  in  rich  equipages,  sjileiidiil  buildings,  licentious 
pleasures,  and  literary  society;  this  young  archbishop- 
elector  was  in  Germany  what  Leo  X.  was  at  Rome. 
His  court  was  one  of  the  most  magnificent  in  the  em- 
pire, and  he  was  prepared  to  sacrifice  to  pleasure  and 
graudcur  all  the  sentiments  of  truth  which,  perhaps, 
might  have  insinuated  themselves  into  his  heart. 
Nevertheless,  his  better  convictions  continued  even  to 
the  last  to  exercise  some  degree  of  influence  over  him, 
and  he  repeatedly  gave  indications  of  moderation  and 
equity. 

Albert,  like  Leo,  was  in  want  of  money.  The  Fug- 
gers,  rich  merchants  in  Augsburg,  had  made  him  ad- 
vances which  he  behoved  to  repay;  and  hence,  though 
he  had  managed  to  secure  two  archbishoprics  and  a 
bishopric,  he  was  unable  to  pay  Rome  for  his  Pallium. 
This  ornament  of  white  wool,  bespangled  with  black 
crosses,  and  blessed  by  the  pope,  who  sent  it  to  the 
archbishops  as  a  token  of  their  dignity,  cost  them 
twenty-six,  or,  some  say,  thirty  thousand  florins.  In 
order  to  obtain  money,  Albert,  naturally  enough,  be- 
thought himself  of  having  recourse  to  the  same  methods 
as  the  pope.  He  accordingly  applied  to  him  for  the 
general  farming  of  the  indulgences,  or,  as  they  ex- 
pressed it  at  Rome,  "  of  the  sins  of  the  Germans." 

The  popes  sometimes  kept  the  indulgences  in  their 
own  hands,  and  at  other  times  farmed  them  out,  in 
the  same  way  as  some  governments  still  do  gaming- 
houses. Albert  made  an  offer  to  Leo  to  share  the  pro- 
fits with  him;  and  Leo,  in  agreeing  to  the  bargain, 
stipulated  for  immediate   payment   of    the  Pallium. 


FARMING  OF  INDULGENCES. 


Albert  had  been  countiug  oa  paying  it  out  of  the  in- 
dulgences, and  therefore  ai)plicd  anew  to  the  Fnggcrs, 
who,  thinking  the  sccnrity  good,  agreed,  on  certain 
conditions,  to  make  the  advance  required,  and  were 
appointed  bankers  to  the  concern.  They  were  the 
bankers  of  the  princes  of  this  period,  and  were  after- 
wards made  counts  iu  return  for  the  services  which 
they  had  rendered. 
The  pope  and  the  archbishop  having  thus,  by  antici- 


pation, shared  in  the  spoils  of  the  good  souls  of  Ger- 
many, the  next  matter  was  to  select  the  persons  who 
were  to  carry  the  affair  into  effect.  It  was  tirst  offered 
to  the  Franciscan  order,  whose  guardian  was  conjoined 
with  Albert.  But,  as  it  was  already  in  bad  odour 
with  honest  people,  these  monks  were  not  anxious  to 
have  anything  to  do  with  it.  The  Augustines,  who 
were  more  enlightened  than  the  other  religious  orders, 
would  have  been  less  iucliued  to  undertake  it.     The 


-    1: 


"111111!%  ■ 


Franciscans,  however,  being  afraid  of  oifendiug  the 
pope,  who  had  just  sent  their  chief,  De  Forli,  a  car- 
dinal's hat, — a  hat  which  had  cost  this  poor  mendicant 
order  thirty  thousand  florins, — the  guardian  deemed  it 
more  prudent  not  to  refuse  openly;  but,  at  the  same 
time,  threw  all  sorts  of  difficulties  in  Albert's  way. 
They  could  never  understand  each  other ;  and,  accord- 
ingly, when  the  proposal  was  made  to  the  elector  to 
undertake  the  whole  charge,  he  eagerly  closed  with  it. 
The  Dominicans,  on  the  other  hand,  longed  for  a  share 
in  the  general  collection  which  was  about  to  commence. 
Tetzel,  who  was  already  famous  iu  the  trade,  hastened 
to  Mentz  to  offer  his  services  to  the  elector.  In  con- 
sideration of  the  talent  which  he  had  displayed  iu  pub- 
lishing the  indulgences  for  the  knights  of  the  Teutonic 
order  of  Prussia  and  Livonia,  his  proposals  were 
accepted,  and  in  this  way  the  whole  traffic  passed  into 
the  hands  of  his  order. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Tetzel  approaches— Luther  at  the  Confessional— Tctzel's  Rage  — Luther 
without  a  Plan— Jealousy  amoug  the  Orders— Luther's  Discourse— The 
Elector's  Dream. 

In  so  far  as  we  know,  Luther  heard  of  Tetzel,  for  the 
first  time,  at  Grimma,  in  1516,  wdien  he  was  on  the  eve 
of  beginning  his  visit  to  the  churches.  While  Staupitz 
was  still  with  Luther,  it  was  told  him  that  an  indul- 
gence merchant  was  making  a  great  noise  at  Viirzen. 
Even  some  of  his  extravagant  sayings  were  quoted. 
Luther's  indignation  was  roused,  and  he  exclaimed, 
"  Please  God,  I'll  make  a  hole  iu  his  drum." 

Tetzel,  on  his  return  from  Berlin,  where  he  had  met 
with  a  most  friendly  reception  from  the  Elector  Joachim, 
brother  of  the  farmer-geueral,  took  up  his  head  quar- 
ters at  Juterboch.  Staupitz,  availing  himself  of  his 
influence  with  the  Elector  Frederick,  had  often  reprc- 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


Bented  to  liim  tlie  abuses  of  tlie  iudulgences,  aud  the 
scaudalous  proceedings  of  the  mendicants ;  aud  the 
princes  of  Saxony,  feeling  indignant  at  the  shamcfid 
traffic,  had  forbidden  the  merchant  to  enter  their  terri- 
tory. He  was,  accordingly,  obliged  to  remain  on  those 
of  the  Archbishop  of  Magdebourg,  but  at  the  same 
time  came  as  near  to  Saxony  as  he  could,  Juterboch 
being  only  four  miles  from  AVittembcrg.  "  This  great 
thresher  of  purses,"  says  Luther,  "  set  about  threshing 
the  country  in  grand  style,  so  that  the  money  began  to 
leap,  tumble,  and  tinkle,  iu  his  chest."  The  people  of 
Wittemberg  went  iu  crov/ds  to  the  indulgence  market 
of  Juterboch. 

At  this  period  Luther  had  the  highest  respect  for  the 
Church  aud  for  the  pope.  "  I  was  then,"  said  he,  "  a 
monk,  a  most  bigoted  Papist ;  so  intoxicated  and  im- 
bued with  the  doctrines  of  Korae,  that  if  I  had  been 
able  I  would  willingly  have  lent  a  hand  iu  killing  any 
one  audacious  enough  to  refuse  obedience  to  the  pope 
in  the  minutest  matter.  I  was  a  real  Saul,  as  many 
still  are."  But,  at  the  same  time,  his  heart  was  ready 
to  declare  iu  favour  of  all  that  he  believed  to  be  truth, 
aud  against  all  that  he  believed  to  be  error.  "  I  was  a 
young  doctor  just  off  the  irons,  ardeut  and  rejoicing  iu 
the  word  of  the  Lord." 

One  day  when  Luther  had  taken  his  seat  in  the  con- 
fessional at  Wittemberg,  several  citizens  of  the  town 
came  before  him,  and  oue  after  another  confessed  the 
grossest  immoralities.  Adultery,  libertinism,  usury, 
ill-gotten  wealth,  were  the  crimes  with  which  the 
minister  of  the  Word  was  entertained  by  persons  of 
whose  souls  he  was  one  day  to  give  account.  He 
rebukes,  corrects,  and  instructs  them  ;  but  what  is  his 
astonishment  when  these  people  tell  him  that  they 
don't  choose  to  abandon  their  sins?  .  .  .  Quite 
amazed,  the  pious  monk  declares,  that  since  they 
refuse  to  promise  amendment,  he  cannot  give  them 
absolution.  The  wretched  creatures  then  appealed  to 
their  letters  of  indulgence,  exliibitiug  them,  and  extol- 
ling their  virtues.  But  Luther  replied,  that  he  cared 
little  for  the  paper  which  they  had  shewn  him,  aud 
added,  Unless  you  repent,  you  idlL  all  jjerish.  They 
made  an  outcry,  and  expostulated ;  but  the  doctor  was 
immovable  :  '•  they  must  cease  to  do  evil,  aud  learn  to 
do  well,  .  .  .  otherwise  no  absolution."  "Be- 
ware," added  he,  "  of  lending  an  ear  to  the  harangues 
of  the  venders  of  iudulgences ;  you  might  be  better 
employed  than  iu  buyiug  those  licences  which  are  sold 
you  for  the  most  paltry  sum." 

Much  alarmed,  these  inhabitants  of  Wittemberg  has- 
tened back  to  Tetzel  to  tell  him  how  his  letters  were 
disregarded  by  an  Augustine  monk.  Tetzel,  on  hear- 
ing this,  became  red  with  fury,  crying,  aud  stamping, 
and  cm'sing  iu  the  pulpit.  To  strike  a  deeper  terror 
into  the  people,  he  repeatedly  kindled  a  fire  iu  the 
market-place,  declaring  he  had  received  orders  from 
the  pope  to  burn  all  heretics  who  should  dare  to  oppose 
his  holy  indulgences. 

Such  is  the  circumstance,  which  was  not  the  cause, 
but  the  first  occasion  of  the  Reformation.  A  pastor 
seeing  the  sheep  of  his  flock  in  a  path  which  must  lead 
them  to  destruction,  makes  an  eilort  to  deliver  them. 
As  yet,  he  has  no  thought  of  reforming  the  Church  aud 
the  world.     He  has  seen  Eome  and  its  coiTuptious; 


but  he  declares  not  against  Rome.  He  perceives  some 
of  the  abuses  imder  which  Christianity  is  groaning; 
but  has  no  thought  of  correcting  these  abuses.  He  has 
no  desire  to  become  Reformer.^  He  has  no  plan  for 
the  reformation  of  the  Church,  any  more  thau  he  had 
had  one  for  himself.  God  intends  reform,  aud  for 
reform  selects  Luther.  The  same  remedy  which  had 
proved  so  powerful  iu  curing  his  own  wi-etchedness, 
the  hand  of  God  will  employ  by  him  to  cure  the  mise- 
ries of  Christendom.  He  remains  qviiet  in  the  sphere 
which  is  assigned  to  Idm,  walking  merely  where  his 
Master  calls  him  ;  and  fulfilling  his  duties  as  professor, 
preacher,  and  pastor,  at  Wittemberg.  While  seated  in 
the  church  his  hearers  come  and  open  their  hearts  to 
him.  EvU  makes  an  assault  upon  him,  and  error 
seeks  him  out  of  her  own  accord.  He  is  interfered 
with  iu  the  discharge  of  his  duty,  aud  his  conscience, 
which  is  bound  to  the  Word  of  God,  resists.  Is  it  not 
God  that  calls  him '?  To  resist  is  a  duty;  aud  beiug  a 
duty,  is  also  a  right.  He  has  no  alternative  but  to 
speak.  In  this  way  were  events  ordered  by  that  God 
who  was  pleased,  says  Mathesius,  "  to  restore  Christen- 
dom by  means  of  the  sou  of  a  forge  master ;  and  to 
purify  the  impure  doctrine  of  the  Church,  by  making 
it  pass  through  his  furnaces." 

Having  given  this  detail,  it  must  be  unnecessary  to 
refute  a  false  imputation  invented  by  some  of  Luther's 
enemies,  but  not  till  after  his  death.  Jealousy  for  his 
order,  it  has  been  said, — grief  at  seeing  a  shameful  and 
condemned  traffic  entrusted  to  the  Doniinicans,  in  pre- 
ference to  the  Augustines,  who  had  hitherto  enjoyed 
it, — led  the  doctor  of  Wittemberg  to  attack  Tetzel  and 
his  doctrines.  The  well  known  fact  that  this  traffic 
was  first  offered  to  the  Augustines,  who  refused  it,  is 
sufficient  to  refute  this  fable,  which  has  been  repeated 
by  writers  who  have  copied  each  other ;  even  Cardinal 
Pallavicini  states  that  the  Augustines  never  had  dis- 
charged this  office.  Besides,  we  have  seen  the  tra- 
vail of  Luther's  soul.  His  conduct  needs  no  other 
explanation.  It  was  impossible  for  him  not  to  make 
open  profession  of  the  doctrine  to  which  he  owed  his 
happiness.  In  Clu-istiauity,  every  man  who  finds  a 
blejssing  longs  to  make  others  partakers  in  it.  In  our 
day  it  is  time  to  abandon  those  puerile  explanations 
which  are  unworthy  of  the  great  revolution  of  the  six- 
teenth century.  "To  lift  a  world,  a  more  powerful  ^ 
lever  was  required.  The  Reformation  existed  not  in  j 
Luther  only;  it  was  the  offspring  of  his  age.  { 

Luther,  impelled  equally  by  obedience  to  the  truth  { 
of  God,  and  by  charity  towards  men,  mounted  the  pul-  | 
pit.  He  forewarned  his  hearers ;  but,  as  he  himself 
says,  he  did  it  gently.  His  prince  had  obtained  parti- 
cular iudulgences  from  the  pope  for  the  church  of  the 
castle  of  Wittemberg,  aud  it  was  possible  that  some  of 
the  blows  which  he  was  going  to  level  at  the  indul- 
geuces  iu  question  might  fall  on  those  of  the  elector. 
No  matter ;  he  will  run  the  risk.  If  he  sought  to  please 
men,  he  would  not  be  the  servant  of  Christ. 

"No  man  can  prove  by  Scriptm-e,"  says  the  faithful 
minister  of  the  Word  to  the  people  of  AVittemberg, 
"  that  the  justice  of  God  exacts  a  penalty  or  satisfac- 

1  Such  was  the  beginning  of  tins  controversy,  in  wliicli  Lutlier  was  not 
yet  tliinking  or  dreaming  of  a  future  cliange  of  ritual.— JfctonclA.  Vila 
Lulh. 


THE  ELECTOR'S  DREAM. 


79 


tion  from  the  siuuer ;  tho  only  duty  wbicli  it  imposes 
upou  him  is  true  repentance,  siucere  couvcrsiou,  a  reso- 
lution to  bear  the  cross  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  to  be  dili- 
gent m  good  works.  It  is  a  great  error  to  think  we 
can  ourselves  satisfy  tlic  justice  of  God  for  our  sins. 
Ho  always  p;u-dou3  them  gratuitously  by  His  inestim- 
able grace. 

"The  Christian  Church,  it  is  true,  requires  some- 
thing from  the  sinner,  and  consequently  has  the  power 
of  remitting  what  she  so  requires;  but  that  is  all. 
Even  these  indulgences  of  the  Church  ai-e  tolerated, 
only  on  account  of  iudolcnt  and  imperfect  Christians, 
who  will  not  zealously  exercise  themselves  in  good 
works.  For  they  stimulate  none  to  sanctification,  but 
leave  all  in  iinpcrt'cclion." 

Then  adverting  to  the  pretext  under  which  the  in- 
dulgences were  published,  he  continues  :—"  It  would 
be  much  better  to  contribute  to  the  erection  of  St. 
Peter's  church  from  love  to  God,  than  to  purchase  in- 
dulgences in  this  view.  .  .  .  But  you  ask,  Ai-e  we 
then  never  to  purchase  them  ?  I  have  already  said, 
and  I  repeat  it ;  my  advice  is.  Don't  purchase.  Leave 
thcra  to  sleepy  Christians ;  but  do  you  walk  apart  in 
your  own  path.  The  faitliful  must  be  diverted  from 
indulgences,  and  urged  to  do  the  works  which  they 
neglect." 

At  last,  glancing  at  his  adversaries,  Luther  concludes 
thus : — "  If  some  cry  out  that  I  am  a  heretic,  (for  the 
truth  which  I  preach  is  very  hurtful  to  their  strong 
box.)  their  clamour  gives  me  little  concern.  They  are 
dull  and  sickly  brains  ;  men  who  never  felt  the  Bible, 
never  read  Christian  doctrine,  never  comprehended 
their  own  teachers,  and  who  turn  to  rottenness,  wrap- 
ped up  in  the  tatters  of  their  vain  opinions.  .  .  . 
God  grant  them  and  us  a  sound  mind.  Amen." 
After  these  words  the  doctor  descended  from  the 
pulpit,  leaving  his  hearers  iu  astonishment  at  his  bold 
language. 

This  sermon  was  printed,  and  made  a  deep  impres- 
sion on  all  who  read  it.  Tetzel  answered  it,  and 
Luther  replied ;  but  these  discussions  did  not  take 
place  till  a  later  period,  (1518.) 

The  feast  of  All  Saints  di-ew  near.  The  chronicles 
of  that  day  here  relate  a  circumstance  which,  though 
not  important  to  the  history  of  the  period,  may,  how- 
ever, serve  to  characterize  it.  It  is  a  dream  of  the 
elector,  which  in  substance  is  unquestionably  authentic, 
though  several  circumstances  may  have  been  added  by 
those  who  have  related  it.  It  is  mentioned  by  Secken- 
dorf,'  who  observes,  that  the  fear  of  giving  their  ad- 
versaries ground  to  say  that  the  doctrine  of  Luther  was 
founded  upon  di-eams,  has,  perhaps,  prevented  several 
historians  from  speaking  of  it. 

The  Elector  Frederick  of  Saxony  (say  the  chronicles 
of  the  time)  was  at  his  castle  of  Schweinitz,  six  leagues 
from  Wittemberg.  On  the  morning  of  the  31st  Octo- 
ber,— being  in  company  with  his  brother,  Duke  John, 
who  was  then  co-regent,  and  became  sole  elector  after 
his  death,  and  with  his  chancellor, — the  elector  said  to 
the  duke,  '•  Brother,  I  must  tell  you  a  dream  which  I 

1  And  in  a  manuscript  of  the  Archives  of  Weimar,  taken  down  from  the 
t  of  Spalatin,    Our  account  of  tlie  di-eam  is  conformable  to  this 
ivliich  was  rtpublished  at  the  last  jubilee  of  the  Reformation, 


had  last  night,  and  the  meaning  of  which  I  should  like 
much  to  know.  It  is  so  deeply  impressed  on  my  mind, 
that  I  will  never  forget  it,  were  I  to  live  a  thousand 
years.  For  I  dreamed  it  thrice,  and  each  time  with 
ucw  circiuustances." 

Duke  John. — "  Is  it  a  good  or  a  bad  dream  1" 
The  Elector. — "  I  know  not :  God  knows." 
Ditle  John. — "  Don't  be  uneasy  at  it ;  but  be  so  good 
as  tell  it  to  me." 

The  Elector. — "Having  gone  tobed  last  night, fatigued 
and  out  of  spirits,  I  fell  asleep  shortly  after  my  prayer, 
and  slept  quietly  for  about  two  hours  and  a-half ;  I 
then  awoke,  and  continued  awake  till  midnight — all 
sorts  of  thoughts  passing  through  my  mind.  Among 
other  things,  I  thought  how  I  was  to  observe  the  feast 
of  All  Saints.  I  prayed  for  the  poor  souls  iu  purga- 
tory; and  supplicated  God  to  guide  me,  my  counsels, 
and  my  people,  according  to  truth.  I  again  fell  asleep, 
and  then  dreamed  that  Almighty  God  sent  me  a  monk, 
who  was  a  true  son  of  the  Apostle  Paul.  All  the 
saints  accompanied  him  by  order  of  God,  in  order  to 
bear  testimony  before  me,  and  to  declare  that  he  did 
not  come  to  contrive  any  plot ;  but  that  all  that  he  did 
was  according  to  the  will  of  God.  They  asked  me  to 
have  the  goodness  graciously  to  permit  him  to  write 
something  on  the  door  of  the  church  of  the  castle  of 
AVittemberg.  This  I  granted  through  my  chancellor. 
Thereupon  the  monk  went  to  the  cluu'ch,  and  began  to 
write  in  such  large  characters,  that  I  could  read  the 
writing  at  Schweinitz.  The  pen  which  he  used  was 
so  large,  that  its  end  reached  as  far  as  Rome,  where  it 
pierced  the  ears  of  a  lion  that  was  couching  there,  and 
caused  the  triple  crown  upon  the  head  of  the  pope  to 
shake.  All  the  cai-dinals  and  princes,  running  hastily 
up,  tried  to  prevent  it  from  falling.  You  and  I,  brother, 
wished  also  to  assist,  and  I  stretched  out  my  arm ; 
.  .  .  but  at  this  moment  I  awoke,  with  my  arm  in 
the  air,  quite  amazed,  and  very  much  enraged  at  the 
monk  for  not  managing  his  pen  better.  I  recollected 
myself  a  little :  it  was  only  a  dream. 

"  I  was  still  half  asleep,  and  once  more  closed  my 
eyes.  The  dream  returned.  The  lion,  still  annoyed 
by  the  pen,  began  to  roar  with  all  his  might,  so  much 
so  that  the  whole  city  of  Rome,  and  all  the  states  of 
the  holy  empire,  ran  to  see  what  the  matter  was.  The 
pope  requested  them  to  oppose  this  monk,  and  applied 
particularly  to  me,  on  account  of  his  being  iu  my 
country.  I  again  awoke,  repeated  the  Lord's  Prayer, 
entreated  God  to  preserve  his  Holiness,  and  once  more 
fell  asleep. 

'•  Then  I  dreamed  that  all  the  princes  of  the  empire, 
and  we  among  them,  hastened  to  Rome,  and  strove, 
one  after  another,  to  break  the  pen ;  but  the  more  we 
tried,  the  stiffer  it  became — soundiug  as  if  it  had  been 
made  of  iron.  AVe  at  length  desisted.  I  then  asked 
the  monk  (for  I  was  sometimes  at  Rome,  and  some- 
times at  Wittemberg)  where  he  got  this  pen,  and  why 
it  was  so  strong.  '  The  pen,'  replied  he,  '  belonged  to 
an  old  goose  of  Bohemia — a  hundred  years  old.^  I 
got  it  from  one  of  my  old  schoolmasters.  As  to  its 
strength,  it  is  owing  to  the  impossibility  of  depriving 

2  John  Hus3.    This  circumstance  may,  perhaps,  have  been  afterwards 
added,  in  allusion  to  the  saying  of  John  Huss,  which  we  have  quoted.    See 
I   the  First  Book. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


it  of  its  pith  or  marrow ;  and  I  am  quite  astonished  at 
it  myself.'  Suddenly  I  heard  a  loud  noise, — a  large 
numljer  of  other  pens  had  sprung  out  of  the  long  pen 
of  the  monk.  ...  I  awoke  a  third  time :  it  was 
daylight.     .     .     ." 

Dnke  John. — "  Chancellor,  what  is  your  opinion  ? 
"Would  we  had  a  Joseph  or  a  Daniel  enlightened  by 
God!" 

Chancellor. — "Your  highnesses  know  the  common 
pro\ei'b,  that  the  dreams  of  young  girls,  learned  men, 
and  great  lords,  have  usually  some  hidden  meaning. 
The  meaning  of  this  dream,  however,  we  will  not  be 
able  to  know  for  some  time, — not  till  the  things  to 
which  it  relates  have  taken  place.  Wherefore,  leave 
the  accomplishment  to  God,  and  j^laee  it  wholly  in  his 
hand." 

Dnke  John. — "I  am  of  your  opinion,  Chancellor;  'tis 
not  fit  for  us  to  annoy  ourselves  in  attempting  to  dis- 
cover the  meaning ;  the  God  will  overrule  all  for  His 
gl.iry." 

I'Jlirloi: — "  May  our  faithful  God  do  so ;  yet  I  will 
never  forget  this  dream.  I  have  indeed  thought  of  an 
interpretation,  but  I  keep  it  to  myself.  Time,  perhaps, 
will  shew  if  I  have  been  a  good  diviner." 

Thus,  according  to  the  manuscript  of  Weimar,  the 
morning  of  31st  of  October  was  spent  at  Schweinitz. 
Let  us  see  how  the  evening  was  spent  at  Wittemberg. 
We  again  return  to  the  province  of  history. 


CHAPTER  V. 


Feast  of  All  Saints— The  Theses— Tlieir  Force— Moderation— Proviaence— 
Letter  to  Albert— Indifference  of  the  Bishops— Dissemination  of  the 


The  words  of  Luther  had  produced  little  effect.  Tet- 
zel,  without  troubling  himself,  continued  his  traffic  and 
his  impious  harangues.  Will  Luther  submit  to  these 
crying  abuses,  and  keep  silence  °?  As  a  pastor,  he  has 
earnestly  exhorted  those  who  have  had  recourse  to  his 
ministry ;  and,  as  a  preacher,  he  has  lifted  his  warning 
voice  in  the  pulpit.  It  still  remains  for  him  to  speak 
as  a  theologian — to  address,  not  individuals  in  the  con- 
fessional, not  the  assembly  of  the  faithful  in  the  church 
of  Wittemberg ;  but  all  who,  like  himself,  are  teachers 
of  the  Word  of  God.     His  resolution  is  taken. 

He  has  no  thought  of  attacking  the  Church,  or  of 
putting  the  pope  on  his  defence.  On  the  contrary,  it 
is  his  respect  for  the  pope  that  will  not  allow  him  to 
be  any  longer  silent  with  regard  to  claims  by  which  he 
is  injured.  He  must  take  the  part  of  the  pope  against 
audacious  men,  who  dare  to  associate  his  venerable 
name  with  their  disgraceful  trathc.  Far  from  thinking 
of  a  revolution  which  is  to  destroy  the  primacy  of 
Eorae,  Luther  expects  to  have  the  pope  and  Catholi- 
cism for  his  allies  against  impudent  monks. 

The  feast  of  All  Saints  was  an  important  day  for 
Wittemberg,  and  especially  for  the  church  which  the 
elector  had  there  erected  and  filled  with  relics.  On 
that  day  these  relics,  adorned  with  silver  and  gold, 


and  precious  stones,  were  brought  out  and  exhibited 
to  the  eyes  of  the  people,  who  were  astonished  and 
dazzled  by  their  magnificence.  Whoever  on  that  day 
visited  the  church,  and  confessed  in  it,  obtained  a  valu- 
able indulgence.  Accordingly,  on  this  great  occasion, 
pilgrims  came  in  crowds  to  Wittemberg. 

On  the  31st  of  October,  1517,  Luther,  who  had 
already  taken  his  resolution,  walks  boldly  towards  the 
church  to  which  the  superstitious  crowds  of  pilgrims 
were  repairing,  and  puts  up  on  the  door  of  this  church 
ninety-five  theses  or  propositions  against  the  doctrine 
of  indulgences.  Neither  the  elector,  nor  Staupitz,  nor 
Spalatiu,  nor  any,  even  the  most  intimate  of  his  friends, 
had  been  previously  informed  of  this  step.  In  these 
theses,  Luther  declares,  in  a  kind  of  preamble,  that  he 
had  written  them  with  the  express  desire  of  setting  the 
truth  in  the  full  light  of  day.  He  declares  himself 
ready  to  defend  them  on  the  morrow  at  the  university, 
against  all  and  sundry.  The  attention  which  they 
excite  is  great;  they  are  read  and  repeated.  In  a 
short  time  the  pilgrims,  the  university,  the  whole  town 
is  ringing  with  them.  The  following  are  some  of  these 
propositions,  written  with  the  pen  of  the  monk,  and 
fixed  on  the  door  of  the  church  of  Wittemberg : — 

1.  "When  our  Lord  and  Master  Jesus  Christ  says 
'  repent,'  He  means  that  the  whole  life  of  His  followers 
on  the  earth  is  a  constant  and  continual  repentance. 

2.  "  This  expression  caunot  be  understood  of  the 
sacrament  of  penitence, — that  is  to  say,  of  confession 
and  satisfaction. — as  administered  by  the  priest. 

3.  "  Still  the  Lord  intends  not  to  speak  merely  of 
internal  repentance.  Internal  repentance  is  null,  if  it 
does  not  manifest  itself  externally  by  the  mortification 
of  the  flesh. 

4.  "  Repentance  and  sorrow — that  is  to  say,  true 
penitence — continue  so  long  as  a  man  is  displeased  with 
himself ;  that  is,  until  he  passes  from  this  life  into  life 
eternal. 

5.  "  The  pope  is  not  able,  and  does  not  wish  to 
remit  any  other  penalty  than  that  which  he  has  imposed 
of  his  own  good  pleasure,  or  conformably  to  the  canons, 
— that  is  to  say,  the  papal  ordinances. 

6.  "  The  pope  cannot  remit  any  condemnation,  but 
only  declare  and  confirm  the  remission  which  God 
himself  has  given.  At  least,  he  can  only  do  it  in  cases 
which  belong  to  him.  If  he  does  otherwise,  the  con- 
demnation remains  exactly  as  before. 

8.  "  The  laws  of  ecclesiastical  penance  ought  to  be 
imposed  on  the  living  only,  and  have  nothing  to  do 
with  the  dead. 

21.  "  The  commissaries  of  indulgence  are  mistaken 
when  they  say  that  the  pope's  indulgence  delivers 
from  all  punishment,  and  saves. 

25.  "The  same  power  which  the  pope  has  over 
purgatory  throughout  the  Church,  each  bishop  has  in- 
dividually in  his  own  diocese,  and  each  curate  in  his 
own  parish. 

27.  "It  is  the  preaching  of  human  folly  to  pretend, 
that  at  the  very  moment  when  the  money  tinkles  in  the 
strong  box,  the  soul  flies  off  from  purgatory. 

28.  "  This  much  is  certain,  as  soon  as  the  money 
tinkles,  avarice  and  the  love  of  gain  arrive,  increase, 
and  multiply.  But  the  aids  aud  prayers  of  the  Church 
depend  only  on  the  will  and  good  pleasure  of  God. 


THE  THESES  OF  LUTHER. 


32.  "  Those  who  imagine  they  are  sure  of  salvation 
by  means  of  indulgences,  will  go  to  the  devil,  with 
those  who  teach  them  so. 

85.  "  It  is  an  antichristian  doctrine  to  pretend,  that, 
in  order  to  deliver  a  soul  from  pm-gatory,  or  to  pur- 
chase an  indulgence,  there  is  no  need  of  either  sorrow 
or  repentance. 

36.  "Every  Christian  who  truly  repents  of  his  sins 
lias  entire  forgiveness  of  the  penalty  and  the  fault ; 
and,  so  far,  has  no  need  of  indulgence. 

37.  "  Every  true  Christian,  dead  or  alive,  partici- 
pates in  all  the  blessings  of  Christ  and  of  the  Church 
by  the  gift  of  God,  and  without  a  letter  of  indulgence. 

38.  ''  Still  the  dispensation  and  pardon  of  the  pope 
must  not  be  despised ;  for  his  pardon  is  a  declaration 
of  the  pardon  of  God. 

40.  ''  Genuine  sorrow  and  repentance  seek,  and  love 
punishment ;  but  the  mildness  of  indulgence  takes  off 
the  fear  of  punishment,  and  begets  hatred  against  it. 

42.  "  Christians  must  be  told  that  the  pope  has  no 
wish  and  no  intention  that  they  should,  in  any  respect, 
compare  the  act  of  purchasing  indulgences  with  any 
work  of  mercy. 

43.  "  Christians  must  be  told  that  he  who  gives  to 
the  poor,  or  lends  to  the  needy,  does  better  than  he  who 
buys  an  indulgence : 

44.  "  For  the  work  of  charity  makes  charity  increase, 
and  renders  a  man  more  pious ;  whereas,  the  indulgence 
does  not  make  him  better,  but  only  gives  him  more 
self-confidence,  and  makes  him  more  secure  against 
punishment. 

45.  "  Christians  must  be  told  that  he  who  sees  his 
neighbour  want,  and,  instead  of  helping  him,  purchases 
an  indulgence,  purchases  not  the  indulgence  of  the 
pope;  but  incurs  the  Divine  displeasure. 

46.  "  Christians  must  be  told  that  if  they  have  no 
superfluity,  they  are  bound  to  keep  what  they  have, 
in  order  to  procm-e  necessaries  for  their  families,  and 
not  to  lavish  it  on  indulgences. 

47.  "Christians  must  be  told  that  to  purchase  an 
indulgence  is  optional,  not  obligatory. 

48.  "  Christians  must  be  told  that  the  pope,  having 
more  need  of  prayer  offered  up  in  faith  than  of  money, 
desires  the  prayer  more  than  the  money  when  he  dis- 
penses indulgences. 

49.  "  Ciiristians  must  be  told  that  the  indulgence  of 
the  pope  is  good,  provided  they  do  not  place  their  con- 
fidence in  it;  but  that  nothing  is  more  hurtful  if  it 
diminishes  piety. 

50.  "  Christians  must  be  told  that  if  the  pope  knew 
of  the  extortions  of  the  preachers  of  indulgences,  he 
would  rather  that  the  metropolis  of  St.  Peter  were 
burned  and  reduced  to  ashes,  than  see  it  built  with  the 
skm,  flesh,  and  bones,  of  his  sheep. 

51.  "  Christians  must  be  told  that  the  pope,  as  is  his 
duty,  would  dispense  his  own  money  to  the  poor  people 
whom  the  preachers  of  indulgences  are  now  robbing  of 
their  last  penny,  were  he,  for  that  purpose,  even  to  sell 
the  metropolis  of  St.  Peter. 

52.  "To  hope  to  be  saved  by  indulgences  is  an 
empty  and  lying  hope,  even  should  the  commissary  of 
indulgences— nay,  the  pope  himself — be  pleased  to 
pledge  his  own  s"oul  in  security  of  it. 

53.  "  Those  who,  on  account  of  the  preaching  of  in- 


dulgences, forbid  the  preaching  of  the  AVord  of  God, 
are  enemies  of  the  pope  and  of  Jesus  Christ. 

55.  "The  pope  cannot  have  any  other  thought  than 
this :  If  the  indulgence,  which  is  the  lesser  matter, 
is  celebrated  with  bell,  pomp,  and  ceremony,  it  is  neces- 
sary, (I  fortiori,  to  honour  and  celebrate  the  Gospel, 
which  is  the  greater  matter,  with  a  lunidred  beUs,  a 
hundred  pomps,  and  a  hundred  ceremonies. 

G2.  "  Tlie  true  and  precious  treasure  of  the  Church 
is  the  holy  Gospel  of  the  glory  and  gi-ace  of  God. 

65.  "Tlie  treasures  of  the  Gospel  are  nets,  which 
once  caught  the  rich,  and  those  who  were  at  ease  in 
their  circumstances : 

G6.  "But  the  treasures  of  indulgence  are  nets,  in 
which,  now-a-days,  they  catch  not  rich  people,  but  the 
riches  of  people. 

C7.  "It  is  the  duty  of  bishops  and  pastors  to  receive 
the  commissaries  of  apostolic  indidgences  with  all 
respect : 

68.  "  But  it  is  still  more  their  duty  to  use  their  eyes 
and  their  ears,  in  order  to  see  that  the  said  commissa- 
ries do  not  preach  the  dreams  of  their  own  imagina- 
tions, instead  of  the  orders  of  the  pope. 

71.  "  Cursed  be  he  who  spoaketh  against  the  indul- 
gence of  the  pope. 

72.  "But  blessed  be  he  who  speaks  against  the 
foolish  and  impudent  words  of  the  preachers  of  in- 
dulgences. 

76.  "The  indulgence  of  the  pope  cannot  take  away 
the  smallest  daily  sin,  in  regard  to  the  fault  or  delin- 
quency. 

79.  "  To  say  that  a  cross  adorned  with  the  arms  of 
the  pope  is  as  powerful  as  the  cross  of  Christ,  is  blas- 
phemy. 

80.  "  Bishops,  pastors,  and  theologians,  who  allow 
such  things  to  be  said  to  the  people,  will  be  called  to 
account  for  it. 

81.  "This  shameful  preaching,  these  impudent  eulo- 
giums  on  indulgences,  make  it  difficult  for  the  learned 
to  defend  the  dignity  and  honour  of  the  pope  against 
the  calumnies  of  the  preachers,  and  the  subtUe  and 
puzzling  questions  of  the  common  people. 

86.  "Why,  say  they,  does  not  the  pope,  whose 
wealth  is  greater  than  that  of  rich  Croesus,  build  the 
metropolis  of  St.  Peter  with  his  own  money,  rather 
than  with  that  of  poor  Christians  ? 

92.  "  Would,  then,  that  we  were  discumbered  of  all 
the  preachers  who  say  to  the  Church  of  Christ,  Peace ! 
Peace  !  when  there  is  no  peace ! 

94.  "  Christians  should  be  exhorted  to  diligence  in 
following  Christ  their  head  tlu-ough  crosses,  death,  and 
heU. 

95.  "  For  it  is  far  better  to  enter  the  kingdom  of 
heaven  through  much  tribulation,  than  to  acquire  a 
carnal  security  by  the  flattery  of  a  false  peace." 

Hero,  then,  was  the  commencement  of  the  work. 
The  germ  of  the  Reformation  was  contained  in  these 
theses  of  Luther.  The  abuses  of  indulgence  were 
attacked  in  them,  (and  this  was  their  most  striking 
feature;)  but  behind  those  attacks  there  was,  more- 
over, a  principle  which,  although  it  attracted  the 
attention  of  the  multitude  far  less,  was  destined  one 
day  to  overthrow  the  edifice  of  the  papacy.  The 
evangelical  doctrine  of  a  free  and  gratuitous  remission 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


of  sins  was  here  publicly  professed,  for  tlie  first  time. 
Henceforth  the  work  must  grow.  In  fact,  it  was 
evident  that  any  man  who  had  faith  in  tlie  remission 
of  sins,  as  preached  by  the  doctor  of  Wittemberg, — 
any  one  who  had  this  conversion  and  sanctification,  the 
necessity  of  which  he  urged, — would  no  longer  concern 
himself  about  human  ordinances ;  but  would  escape 
from  the  swaddling-bands  of  Rome,  and  secure  the 
liberty  of  the  children  of  God.  All  errors  behoved  to 
give  way  before  this  truth.  By  it  light  had  at  first 
entered  Luther's  own  mind ;  and  by  it,  in  like  manner, 
light  is  to  be  diffused  in  the  Church.  What  previous 
reformers  wanted  was  a  clear  knowledge  of  this  truth ; 
and  hence  the  unfruitfnlness  of  their  labours.  Luther 
himself  was  afterwards  aware  that,  in  proclaiming 
justification  by  faith,  he  had  laid  the  axe  to  the  root  of 
the  tree.  "  This  is  the  doctrine,"  said  he,  "  which  we 
attack  in  the  followers  of  the  papacy.  Huss  and 
Wickliffe  only  attacked  their  lives  ;  but  in  attacking 
their  doctrine,  we  take  the  goose  by  the  neck.  All 
depends  on  the  Word  which  the  pope  took  from  us  and 
falsified.  I  have  vanquished  the  pope,  because  my 
doctrine  is  according  to  God,  and  his  is  according  to 
the  devil." 

We,  too,  have,  in  onr  day,  forgotten  the  capital  doc- 
trine of  justification  by  faith,  though,  in  a  sense,  the 
reverse  of  that  of  our  fathers.  "In  the  time  of 
Luther,"  says  one  of  our  contemporaries,  "  the  remis- 
sion of  sins  at  least  cost  money;  but  in  our  day  every 
one  supplies  himself  gratis."  These  two  extremes  are 
very  much  alike.  Perhaps  there  is  even  more  forget- 
fulness  of  God  in  our  extreme,  than  in  that  of  the  six- 
teenth century.  Tlie  principle  of  justification  by  the 
grace  of  God,  w  ch  brought  the  Church  out  of  so 
much  darkness  at  the  time  of  the  Eeformation,  is  also 
the  only  principle  which  can  renew  our  generation, 
put  an  end  to  its  doubts  and  waverings,  destroy  the 
canker  of  egotism,  establish  the  reign  of  morality  and 
justice,  and,  in  one  word,  reunite  the  world  to  God, 
from  whom  it  has  beeu  separated. 

But  if  the  theses  of  Luther  were  mighty  in  virtue  of 
the  truth  which  they  proclaimed,  they  were  not  less  so 
through  the  faith  of  their  declared  defender.  He  had 
boldly  unsheathed  the  sword  of  the  Word,  and  he  had 
done  it  trusting  to  the  power  of  truth.  He  had  felt, 
that  in  leaning  on  the  promises  of  God  he  could,  in 
the  language  of  the  world,  afford  to  risk  something. 
Speaking  of  this  bold  attack,  he  says,  "  Let  him  who 
would  begin  a  good  enterprise  undertake  it,  trusting  to 
its  own  merits,  and  not  (of  this  let  him  beware)  to  the 
help  and  countenance  of  man.  Moreover,  let  not  men, 
nor  even  the  whole  world,  deter  him.  For  these  words 
will  never  deceive :  '  It  is  good  to  trust  in  the  Lord ; 
and  none  that  trust  in  Him  shall  be  confounded.'  But 
let  him  who  neither  is  able  nor  willing  to  hazard  some- 
thing through  trust  in  God,  beware  of  undertaking 
anything."  Doubtless,  Luther,  after  putting  up  his 
theses  on  the  door  of  the  church  of  All  Saints,  retired 
to  his  tranquil  cell,  in  full  possession  of  the  peace  and 
joy  imparted  by  an  action  done  in  the  name  of  the 
Lord,  and  for  the  sake  of  eternal  truth. 

These  theses,  notwithstanding  of  their  great  bold- 
ness, still  bespeak  the  monk,  who  refuses  to  allow  a 
single  doubt  as  to  the  authority  of  the  See  of  Rome. 


But  in  attacking  the  doctrine  of  indulgences,  Luther 
had,  without  perceiving  it,  assailed  several  errors,  the 
exposm-e  of  which  could  not  be  agreeable  to  the  pope 
seeing  that  they  tended,  sooner  or  later,  to  bring  his 
supremacy  in  question.  Luther,  at  the  time,  did  not 
see  so  far;  but  he  felt  all  the  boldness  of  the  step 
which  he  had  just  taken,  and,  consequently,  thought 
himself  bound  to  temper  it  in  so  far  as  was  consistent 
with  the  respect  due  to  truth.  He,  accordingly,  pre- 
sented his  theses  only  as  doubtful  propositions,  on  which 
he  was  anxious  for  the  views  of  the  learned ;  and,  con- 
formably to  the  established  custom,  annexed  to  them  a 
solemn  protestation,  declaring  that  he  wished  not  to 
say  or  affirm  anything  not  founded  on  Holy  Scripture, 
the  Fathers  of  the  Church,  and  the  rights  and  decretals 
of  the  See  of  Rome. 

Often,  in  the  sequel,  on  contemplating  the  immense 
and  unlooked-for  consequences  of  this  courageous  at- 
tack, Luther  was  astonished  at  himself,  and  could  not 
understand  how  he  had  ventured  upon  it.  An  invisible 
hand,  mightier  than  his  own,  held  the  leading  reins, 
and  pushed  him  into  a  path  which  he  knew  not,  and 
from  the  difiiculties  of  which  he  would,  perhaps,  have 
recoiled,  if  he  had  known  them,  and  been  advancing 
alone  and  of  himself.  "I  engaged  in  this  dispute," 
says  he,  "  without  premeditated  purpose,  without  know- 
ing it  or  wishing  it;  and  was  taken  quite  unprepared. 
For  the  truth  of  this  I  appeal  to  the  Searcher  of 
hearts." 

Luther  had  become  acquainted  with  the  source  of 
these  abuses.  He  had  received  a  little  book,  orna- 
mented with  the  arms  of  the  Archbishop  of  Mentz 
and  Magdebourg,  and  containing  the  regulations  to  he 
observed  in  the  sale  of  indulgences.  It  was  this  young 
prelate,  therefore, — this  accomplished  prince, — who 
had  prescribed,  or  at  least  sanctioned,  all  this  quackery. 
In  him  Luther  only  sees  a  superior,  to  whom  he  owes 
fear  and  reverence ;  and  wishing  not  to  beat  the  air, 
but  to  address  those  entrusted  with  the  government  of 
the  Church,  he  sends  him  a  letter,  distinguished  at  once 
by  its  frankness  and  humility.  Luther  wrote  this  let- 
ter to  Albert  the  same  day  on  which  he  put  up  his 
theses. 

"  Pardon  me,  most  reverend  Father  in  Christ,  and 
most  illustrious  Prince,"  says  he  to  him,  "  if  I,  who  am 
only  the  dregs  of  mankind,  have  the  presumption  to 
write  your  High  Mightiness.  The  Lord  Jesus  is  my 
witness,  that,  feeling  how  small  and  despicable  I  am, 
I  have  long  put  off  doing  it.  .  .  .  Will  your  High- 
ness, however,  be  pleased  to  let  fall  a  look  on  a  grain 
of  dust,  and,  in  accordance  with  your  episcopal  meek- 
ness, graciously  receive  my  petition. 

"  There  are  people  who  are  carrying  the  papal  in- 
dulgence up  and  down  the  country  in  the  name  of 
your  Grace.  I  do  not  so  much  blame  the  declama- 
tion of  the  preachers,  (I  have  not  heaa-d  them.)  as  the 
erroneous  ideas  of  unlearned  and  simple  people,  who 
imagine  that  by  buying  indulgences  they  secure  their 
salvation.     .     .     . 

"Good  God! — souls  entrusted  to  your  care,  most 
venerable  Father,  are  conducted  to  death,  and  not  to 
life.  The  just  and  strict  account  which  will  be  re- 
quired of  you  grows  and  augments  from  day  to  day. 
.     .     .     I  have  not  been  able  to  continue  longer  silent. 


INDIFFERENCE  OF  THE  BISHOPS. 


83 


Ah !  man  is  not  saved  by  works,  or  by  the  perform- 
ances of  his  bishop.  .  .  .  E\en  tlie  righteous 
scarcely  is  saved ;  and  the  way  that  leadeth  unto  life 
is  strait.  Wliy,  then,  do  the  j)reacher3  of  indulgences 
by  vain  fables  inspire  the  people  with  a  false  security? 

"According  to  them,  indulgence  alone  ought  to  be 
proclaimed,  ought  to  be  extolled.  .  .  .  What! — 
Is  it  not  the  chief  and  only  duty  of  bishops  to  instruct 
the  people  in  the  Go.spel  and  the  love  of  .Jesus  Christ? 
Jesus  Christ  has  nowhere  ordered  the  preacliiiig  of  in- 
dulgence ;  but  has  strongly  enjoined  the  preaching  of 
the  Gospel.  How  dreadful,  then,  and  how  perilous, 
for  a  bishop  to  allow  the  Gospel  to  be  passed  in  silence, 
nnd  nothing  but  the  sound  of  indulgence  to  be  inces- 
santly dunned  into  the  ears  of  his  peoi)le.     .     .     . 

"Most  worthy  Father  in  God,  in  the  instruction  of 
the  commissaries,  which  has  been  published  in  name  of 
your  Grace,  (doubtless  without  your  knowledge.)  it  is 
said  that  the  indulgence  is  the  most  precious  treasure, 
— that  it  reconciles  man  to  God,  and  enables  those  who 
purchase  it  to  dispense  with  repentance. 

"  AVhat,  tlien,  can  I,  what  ought  I  to  do,  most  vener- 
able Bishop,  most  serene  Prince'?  Ah!  I  supplicate 
your  Highness,  by  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  to  turn  upon 
this  business  an  eye  of  paternal  vigilance,  to  suppress 
the  pamphlet  entirely,  and  ordain  preachers  to  deliver 
a  different  sort  of  discourses  to  the  people.  If  you 
decline  to  do  so,  be  assured  you  will  one  day  hear  some 
voice  raised  in  refutation  of  these  preachers,  to  the 
great  dishonour  of  your  most  serene  Highness." 

Luther  at  the  same  time  sent  his  theses  to  the  arch- 
bishop, and,  in  a  postscript,  asked  him  to  read  them, 
that  he  might  be  convinced  how  little  foundation  there 
was  for  the  doctrine  of  indulgences. 

Thus  Luther's  whole  desire  was,  that  the  watchmen 
of  the  Church  should  awake,  and  exert  themselves  in 
putting  an  end  to  the  evils  which  were  laying  it  waste. 
Nothing  could  be  more  noble  aud  more  respectful  than 
this  letter  from  a  monk  to  one  of  flie  greatest  princes 
of  the  Church  and  the  empire.  Never  was  there  a 
better  exemplification  of  the  spirit  of  our  Saviotu-'s 
precept,  "  Kender  unto  Caesar  the  things  which  are 
Ciesar's,  aud  unto  God  the  things  which  are  God's." 
This  is  not  the  course  of  violent  revolutionists,  who 
contemn  powers  and  blame  dignities.  It  is  a  cry  pro- 
ceeding from  the  conscience  of  a  Christian  and  a  priest, 
who  gives  honour  to  all ;  but,  in  the  first  place,  fears 
God.  However,  all  prayers  and  supplications  were 
useless.  Young  Albert,  engrossed  by  his  pleasures  and 
ambitious  designs,  made  no  reply  to  this  solemn  appeal. 
The  Bishop  of  Brandebourg,  Luther's  ordinary, — a 
learned  and  pious  man,  to  whom,  also,  he  sent  his 
theses, — replied,  that  he  was  attacking  the  power  of  the 
Church — tiiat  he  would  involve  himself  in  great  trouble 
and  vexation — that  the  thing  was  beyond  his  strength — 
and  that  his  earnest  .advice  to  him  was  to  keep  quiet. 
The  princes  of  the  Church  sliut  their  ears  against  the 
voice  of  God,  thus  energetically  and  affectiugly  declared 
by  the  instrumentality  of  Luther.  They  would  not 
comprehend  the  signs  of  the  times ;  they  were  struck 
^th  that  blindness  which  has  been  the  ruin  of  so 
many  powers  and  dignities.  "Both  thought,"  says 
Luther  afterwards,  "  that  the  pope  would  be  too  many 
for  a  miserable  mendicant  like  me." 


But  Luther  was  better  .able  than  the  bishops  to  per- 
ceive the  disastrous  effects  which  the  indulgences  had 
upon  the  manners  and  lives  of  the  people ;  for  he  was 
in  dii'ect  correspondence  with  them.  He  had  constantly 
a  near  view  of  what  the  bishops  learned  only  by  un- 
faithful reports.  If  the  bishops  failed  him,  God  did 
not  fail  him.  The  Head  of  the  Church,  who  sits  in 
heaven,  aud  to  whom  has  been  given  all  power  upon 
the  earth,  had  himself  prepared  the  ground,  and  de- 
posited the  grain  in  the  h.ands  of  His  servant.  He 
gave  wings  to  the  seed  of  truth,  and  sent  it  in  an  in- 
stant over  the  whole  length  and  breadth  of  His  Church. 

Nobody  appeared  at  the  university  next  day  to  at- 
tack the  propositions  of  Luther.  The  traffic  of  Tetzel 
was  too  much  in  discredit,  and  too  disgraceful  for  any 
other  than  himself,  or  some  one  of  his  creatures,  to 
dare  to  take  up  the  gauntlet.  But  these  theses  were 
destined  to  be  heard  in  other  places  than  under  the  roof 
of  an  academical  hall.  Scarcely  had  they  been  nailed 
to  the  door  of  the  castle  church  of  Wittemberg,  than 
the  feeble  strokes  of  the  hammer  were  followed  through- 
out Germany  by  a  blow  which  reached  even  to  the 
foundations  of  proud  Rome,  threatening  sudden  ruin  to 
the  walls,  the  gates,  aud  the  pillars  of  the  papacy, 
stunning  aud  terrifying  its  champions,  and,  at  the  same 
time,  awakening  thousands  from  the  sleep  of  error. 

These  theses  spread  with  the  rapidity  of  lightning. 
A  month  had  not  elapsed  before  they  were  at  Rome. 
"  In  a  fortnight,"  says  a  contemporary  historian,'  "  they 
were  in  every  part  of  Germany,  and  in  four  weeks  had 
traversed  almost  the  whole  of  Christendom ;  as  if  the 
angels  themselves  had  been  the  messengers,  and  carried 
them  before  the  eyes  of  all  men.  Nobody  can  believe 
what  a  noise  they  made."  They  were  afterwards 
translated  into  Dutch  and  Spanish,  and  a  traveller  even 
sold  them  at  Jerusalem.  "  Every  one,"  says  Luther, 
"  was  complaining  of  the  indulgences ;  and  as  all  the 
bishops  and  doctors  had  kept  silence,  and  nobody  had 
ventured  to  bell  the  cat,  poor  Luther  became  a  famous  ■ 
doctor,  because,  as  they  expressed  it,  one  had  at 
length  come  who  dared  to  do  it.  But  I  liked  not  this 
glory;  the  music  seemed  to  me  too  lofty  for  the 
words." 

Some  of  the  pilgrims  who  had  flocked  from  different 
countries  to  Wittemberg  for  the  feast  of  All  Saints, 
instead  of  indulgences,  carried  home  with  them  the 
famous  theses  of  the  Augustine  monk,  aud  thus  helped 
to  circulate  them.  All  read,  pondered,  and  commented 
on  them.  They  occupied  the  attention  of  all  convents 
and  all  universities.  All  pious  monks  who  had  entered 
the  cloister  to  save  their  soul,  all  upright  and  honest 
men,  rejoiced  in  this  striking  and  simple  confession  of 
the  truth,  and  ^vished  with  all  their  heart  that  Luther 
would  continue  the  work  which  he  had  begun.  At 
length  a  monk  had  had  the  courage  to  undertake  this 
perilous  contest.  It  was  a  reparation  made  to  Chris- 
tendom, and  the  public  conscience  was  satisfied.  In 
these  theses  piety  saw  a  blow  given  to  all  kinds  of 
superstition ;  tlie  new  theology  hailed  in  them  the  de- 
feat of  the  scholastic  dogmas ;  princes  and  magistrates 
regarded  them  as  a  barrier  raised  against  the  encroach- 
ments of  ecclesiastical  power ;  while  the  nations  were 
delighted  at  seeing  the  decided  negative  which  this 
1  Myconius,  "Hist,  of  the  Ref.,"  p.  23. 


84 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


monk  had  giveu  to  the  avarice  of  the  Eoman  chancery. 
Erasmus,  a  man  very  worthy  of  credit,  and  one  of  the 
principal  rivals  of  the  reformer,  says  to  Duke  George 
of  Saxony, — ""Wlien  Luther  attacked  this  fable,  the 
whole  world  concurred  in  applauding  him."  "  I  ob- 
serve," said  he,  on  another  occasion,  to  Cardinal  Cam- 
peggi,  "  that  those  of  the  purest  morals,  and  an 
evangelical  piety,  are  the  least  opposed  to  Luther.  His 
life  is  lauded  even  by  those  who  cannot  bear  his  faith. 
The  world  was  weary  of  a  doctrine  containing  so  many 
childish  fables,  and  was  thirsting  for  that  living  water, 
pure  and  hidden,  which  issues  from  the  springs  of  the 
evangelists  and  the  apostles.  The  genius  of  Luther 
was  fitted  to  accomplish  these  things,  and  his  zeal  must 
have  animated  him  to  the  noble  enterprise," 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Reuclilin— Erasmus— Flek—Bibra— The  Emperor— The  Pope— Myconius— 
The  Monks — Apprehensions — Adelman — An  Old  Priest — The  Bishop— 
The  Elector— The  Inhabitants  of  Erfui-t— Luther's  Reply— Trouble- 
Luther's  Moving  Principle. 

"We  must  follow  these  propositions  wherever  they 
penetrated, — to  the  studies  of  the  learned,  the  cells  of 
monks,  and  the  palaces  of  princes, — in  order  to  form 
some  idea  of  the  various,  but  wonderful  effects  which 
they  produced  in  Germany. 

Keuchlin  received  them.  He  was  weary  of  the  hard 
battle  which  he  had  been  obliged  to  fight  against  the 
monks.  The  power  which  the  new  combatant  dis- 
played in  his  theses  revived  the  spirit  of  the  old  cham- 
pion of  letters,  and  gave  joy  to  his  saddened  heart. 
"  Thanks  be  to  God,"  exclaimed  he,  after  he  had  read 
them,  "  now  they  have  found  a  man  who  will  give  them 
so  much  to  do,  that  they  will  be  obliged  to  let  me  end 
my  old  age  in  peace." 

The  prudent  Erasmus  was  in  the  Netherlands  when 
the  theses  reached  him.  He  was  inwardly  delighted 
at  seeing  his  secret  wishes  for  the  reformation  of 
abuses  expressed  with  so  much  boldness,  and  com- 
mended their  author,  only  exhorting  him  to  more 
moderation  and  prudence.  Nevertheless,  some  per- 
sons in  his  presence  blaming  Luther's  violence,  he  said, 
"  God  has  given  men  a  cure  which  cuts  thus  deep  into 
the  flesh,  because  otherwise  the  disease  would  be  in- 
curable."    And  at  a  later  period,  when  the  Elector  of 

;  Saxony  asked  his  opinion  as  to  Luther's  affair,  he 
replied,  with  a  smile,  "  I  am  not  at  all  astonished  at 
his  having  made  so  much  noise,  for  he  has  committed 

I    two  unpardonable  faults, — ^he  has  attacked  the  tiara  of 

t    the  pope,  and  the  belly  of  the  monks." 

!  Dr.  Flek,  prior  of  the  cloister  of  Steinlausitz,  had 
for  some  time  given  up  reading  mass  ;  but  had  not  told 
any  one  his  reason.  He  one  day  found  the  theses  of 
Luther  posted  up  in  the  refectory  of  his  convent.  He 
went  up  and  began  to  read  them,  but  had  only  perused 
a  few,  when,  unable  to  contain  his  joy,  he  exclaimed, 
"  Well,  well,  he  whom  we  have  been  so  long  looking 
for  is  come  at  last;  and  this  you  monks  will  see." 


Then  reading  in  the  future,  says  Mathesius,  and  play- 
ing upon  the  word  Wittemberg,  he  said,  "  Everybody 
will  come  to  seek  wisdom  at  this  mountain,  and  will 
find  it."  He  wrote  to  the  doctor  to  persevere  courage- 
ously in  his  glorious  combat.  Luther  calls  him  a  man 
full  of  joy  and  consolation. 

The  ancient  and  celebiated  episcopal  see  of  "Wurz- 
burg  was  then  held  by  Lorenzo  de  Bibra,  a  man, 
according  to  the  testimony  of  his  contemporaries,  pious, 
honest,  and  wise.  When  a  gentleman  came  to  inti- 
mate to  him  that  he  intended  his  daughter  for  the 
cloister,  "  Give  her  rather  a  husband,"  said  he ;  and 
then  added,  "  Are  you  in  want  of  money  for  that  pur- 
pose? I  will  lend  you."  The  emperor  and  all  the 
princes  held  him  in  the  highest  esteem.  He  lamented 
the  disorders  of  the  Church,  and  especially  those  of 
convents.  The  theses  having  reached  his  palace  also, 
he  read  them  with  great  delight,  and  publicly  declared 
his  approbation  of  Luther.  At  a  later  period  he  wrote 
to  the  Elector  Frederick,  "  Don't  part  with  pious  Dr. 
Martin  Luther ;  for  he  has  been  wronged."  The  elec- 
tor, delighted  at  this  testimony,  -nTote  the  reformer 
with  his  own  hand  to  acquaint  him  with  it. 

The  Emperor  Maximilian,  predecessor  of  Charles 
v.,  also  read  and  admired  the  theses  of  the  monk  of 
Wittemberg.  He  perceived  his  talents,  and  foresaw 
that  this  obscure  Augustine  might,  indeed,  become  a 
powerful  ally  of  Germany  in  her  struggle  with  Rome. 
Accordingly,  he  instructed  his  envoy  to  say  to  the 
Elector  of  Saxony,  "  Take  good  care  of  the  monk 
Luther,  for  the  time  may  come  when  we  shall  have 
need  of  him ;"  and  shortly  after,  being  at  a  diet  with 
Pfeffinger,  the  elector's  confidential  councillor,  he  said 
to  him,  "  Well,  what  is  your  Augustine  doing  ?  As- 
suredly his  propositions  are  not  to  be  despised ;  he  will 
give  the  monks  enough  to  do." 

At  Rome  even,  and  in  the  Vatican,  the  theses  were 
not  so  ill  received  as  might  have  been  supposed.  Leo 
X.  judged  of  them  as  a  friend  of  letters,  rather  than  a 
pope.  The  amusement  which  they  gave  him  made  him 
overlook  the  severe  truths  which  they  contained ;  and 
when  Sylvester  Prierias,  the  master  of  the  sacred 
palace,  who  had  the  office  of  examining  new  works, 
urged  him  to  treat  Luther  as  a  heretic,  he  replied, 
"  This  friar,  Martin  Luther,  is  a  great  genius ;  all 
that  is  said  against  him  is  mere  monkish  jealousy." 

There  were  few  on  whom  the  theses  of  Luther  pro- 
duced a  deeper  impression  than  on  the  scholar  of 
Annaberg,  wliom  Tetzel  had  so  pitilessly  repulsed. 
Myconius  had  entered  a  convent,  and  the  very  first 
evening  dreamed  he  saw  an  immense  field  quite  covered 
with  ripe  corn.  "  Cut,"  said  the  voice  of  his  guide  to 
him ;  and  when  he  excused  himself  for  want  of  skill, 
his  guide  shewed  him  a  reaper,  who  was  working  with 
inconceivable  rapidity.  "Follow,  and  do  like  him," 
said  the  guide.  Myconius,  eager  for  holiness  as  Luther 
had  been,  devoted  himself,  when  in  the  convent,  to 
vigils,  fasts,  macerations,  and  all  the  works  invented 
by  men ;  but  at  length  he  despaired  of  ever  attaining 
the  objects  of  his  efforts.  He  abandoned  study,  and 
spent  liis  whole  time  in  manual  labour.  Sometimes  he 
bound  books,  sometimes  used  the  turning-lathe,  and 
sometimes  did  any  other  kind  of  work.  Still,  how- 
ever, this  external  labour  did  not  appease  his  troubled 


APPREHENSIONS  AND  COMMENDATIONS. 


conscience.  God  hud  spoken  to  him,  and  he  could  not 
fall  back  into  his  former  slumber.  This  state  of  agony 
lasted  for  several  years.  It  is  sometimes  supposed  that 
the  paths  of  the  reformers  were  quite  smooth,  and  that 
after  they  rcuouuccd  the  observances  of  the  Church, 
their  remaining  course  was  easy  and  pleasant.  It  is 
not  considered  that  they  arrived  at  the  truth  by  means 
of  internal  struggles,  a  thousand  times  more  painful 
than  the  observances  to  which  servile  miuds  easily 
submitted. 

At  length  the  year  1517  arrived.  The  theses  of 
Luther  were  published,  aud,  traversing  Christendom, 
arrived  also  at  the  convent  where  the  scholar  of  Anna- 
berg  was  residing.  He  hid  himself  in  a  corner  of  the 
cloister,  with  John  Voit,  another  monk,  that  they 
might  be  able  to  read  them  without  interruption. 
They  contained  the  very  truth  of  which  his  father  had 
told  him.  His  eyes  were  opened,  he  felt  a  voice  with- 
in him  responding  to  that  which  was  then  sounding 
throughout  Germany,  and  great  consolation  filled  his 
heart.  "  I  see  plainly,"  said  he,  "  that  Martin  Luther 
is  the  reaper  whom  I  saw  in  my  dream,  aud  who 
taught  me  to  gather  the  ears  of  corn."  He  imme- 
diately began  to  profess  the  doctrine  which  Luther 
had  proclaimed.  The  monks,  alarmed  when  they 
heard  him,  argued  with  him,  and  declaimed  against 
Luther  and  against  his  convent.  '-That  convent," 
replied  Myconius,  "  is  like  our  Lord's  sepulchre  ;  they 
wish  to  prevent  Christ  from  rising  again,  but  will  not 
succeed."  At  last  his  superior,  seeing  they  could  not 
convince  him,  interdicted  him  for  a  year  and  a-half 
from  all  intercourse  with  the  world,  not  permitting 
him  even  to  wTitc  or  to  receive  letters,  and  threatening 
him  with  perpetual  imprisonment.  However,  for  him 
also  the  hour  of  deliverance  arrived.  Being  after- 
wards appointed  pastor  at  Zwickau,  he  was  the  first 
who  declared  against  the  papacy  in  the  churches  of 
Thuringia.  '•  Tlien,"  says  he,  "  I  could  work  with  my 
venerable  father  Luther  at  the  Gospel  harvest."  Jonas 
describes  him  as  a  man  as  able  as  he  was  willing. 

Doubtless  there  were  others  also  to  whom  Luther's 
theses  were  the  signal  of  life.  They  kindled  a  new 
light  in  many  cells,  cottages,  and  palaces.  "While 
those  who  had  entered  convents  in  (]uest  of  good  fare 
and  indolence,  or  rank  and  honours,"  says  Mathesius, 
"began  to  load  the  name  of  Luther  with  reproaches, — 
the  monks  who  lived  in  prayer,  fasting,  and  mortifica- 
tion, thanked  God  as  soon  as  they  heard  the  cry  of  the 
eagle,  announced  by  John  Huss  a  century  before." 
Even  the  people  who  did  not  well  understand  the  theo- 
logy of  the  question,  and  who  only  knew  that  Luther 
was  assailing  the  empire  of  mendicants  and  lazy  monks, 
received  it  with  bursts  of  joy.  An  immense  sensation 
was  produced  in  Germany  by  his  bold  propositions. 
However,  some  of  the  reformer's  contemporaries,  who 
foresaw  the  consequences  to  which  they  might  lead, 
and  the  numerous  obstacles  which  they  were  destined 
to  encounter,  loudly  expressed  their  fears,  or,  at  most, 
rejoiced  with  trembling. 

"  I  am  much  afraid,"  wrote  the  excellent  canon  of 
Augsburg,  Bernard  Adelman,  to  his  friend  Pirckeimer, 
"that  the  worthy  man  must  yield  at  last  to  the  avarice 
and  power  of  the  partizans  of  indulgences.  His  repre- 
sentations have  had  so  little  effect,  that  the  Bishop  of 


Augsburg,  our  primate  aud  metropolitan,  has  just 
ordered  new  indulgences,  in  the  name  of  the  pope,  for 
St.  Peter's  at  Rome.  Let  him  hasten  to  seek  the  aid 
of  princes.  Let  him  beware  of  tempting  God ;  for  it 
were  to  shew  an  absolute  want  of  sense  to  overlook  the 
imminent  danger  to  which  he  is  exposed."  Adelman 
was  greatly  delighted  when  it  was  rumoured  that 
Henry  VIII.  had  invited  Luther  to  England.  "  There," 
thought  he,  "he  will  be  able  to  teach  the  truth  in 
peace."  Several  thus  imagined  that  the  doctrine  of 
the  Gospel  W!is  to  be  supported  by  the  power  of  princes, 
not  knowing  that  it  advances  without  this  power,  and 
is  often  trammelled  and  weakened  by  the  possession 
of  it. 

The  celebrated  historian,  Albert  Kranz,  was  at 
Hamburg  on  his  deathbed  when  Luther's  theses  were 
brought  to  him.  "  You  are  right,  friar  Martin,"  he 
exclaimed  ;"  but  you  ivill  not  succeed.  .  .  .  Poor 
monk !  Go  into  your  cell  and  cry,  '  Lord,  have  mercy 
on  me !'" 

An  old  priest  of  Hexter  in  Westphalia,  having  re- 
ceived and  read  the  theses  in  his  presbytery,  said  in 
low  German,  shaking  his  head,  "Dear  friiir  Martin! 
if  you  succeed  in  overthrowing  this  purgatory  and  all 
these  paper  i^orchauts,  assuredly  you  are  a  mighty 
seignior!"  Erbenius,  a  century  later,  wrote  beneath 
these  words  the  following  stanza  : — 


Not  only  did  many  of  Luther's  friends  entertain  fears 
as  to  the  step  which  he  had  taken,  but  several  even 
testified  their  disapprobation. 

The  Bishop  of  Brandenbm-g,  distressed  at  seeing  his 
diocese  the  scene  of  so  important  a  contest,  was  anxious 
to  suppress  it.  He  resolved  to  take  the  gentle  method, 
and  employed  the  Abbot  of  Lenin  to  say  to  Luther,  in 
his  name,  "  I  don't  find  anything  in  the  theses  contra- 
dictory of  Catholic  truth.  I  myself  condemn  these  in- 
discreet proclamations ;  but  for  the  love  of  peace  and 
deference  to  your  bishop,  cease  writing  on  the  subject." 
Luther  was  confounded  at  being  thus  humbly  addressed 
by  so  great  an  abbot  and  so  great  a  bishop,  aud,  led 
away  by  the  feelings  of  the  moment,  replied,  "  I  con- 
sent. I  would  rather  obey  than  work  miracles,  were 
it  in  my  power." 

The  elector  was  grieved  at  the  commencement  of  a 
contest  which  was,  no  doubt,  legitimate ;  but  the  end 
of  which  it  was  impossible  to  foresee.  No  prince  was 
more  desirous  than  Frederick  for  the  maintenance  of 
public  peace.  Now,  what  an  immense  fire  might  this 
small  spark  not  kindle !  What  discord,  what  rending 
of  nations,  might  this  quarrel  of  monks  not  produce ! 
The  elector  repeatedly  made  Luther  aware  how  much 
he  was  annoyed. 

Even  in  his  own  order,  aud  his  own  convent  of  Wit- 
temberg,  Luther  met  with  disapprobation.  The  prior 
and  sub-prior,  terrified  at  the  clamour  of  Tetzel  and 
his  companions,  repaired  in  fear  and  trembling  to  the 
cell  of  friar  Martin,  and  said,  "Do  not,  we  entreat 
you,  bring  shame  on  our  order.  The  other  orders,  and 
especially  the  Dominicans,  are  overjoyed  to  think  that 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


they  are  not  to  be  alone  in  disgrace."  Luther  wns 
moved  by  tliese  words,  but  soon  recovering  himself,  he 
replied :  "  Dear  fathers,  if  the  thing  is  not  done  in  the 
name  of  God,  it  will  fail ;  but  if  it  is,  let  it  proceed." 
The  prior  and  sub-prior  said  no  more.  "  The  thing 
proceeds  even  now,"  adds  Luther,  after  relating  this 
anecdote,  "  and,  please  God,  always  will  proceed  better 
and  better,  even  to  the  end.     Amen." 

Luther  had  many  otlrer  attacks  to  sustain.  At 
Erfurt  he  was  accused  of  violence  and  pride  in  his 
manner  of  condemning  the  opinions  of  others — the 
charge  usually  brought  against  those  who  act  under 
the  strong  conviction  which  the  word  of  God  gives. 
He  was  also  charged  with  precipitation  and  fickleness. 

"  They  call  upon  nie  for  moderation,"  replied  Luthei', 
"and  they  themselves,  in  the  judgment  which  they 
pass  upon  me,  trample  it  under  foot !  .  .  .  We  see 
the  mote  iu  our  brother's  eye,  and  observe  not  the 
beam  iu  our  own.  .  .  .  Truth  will  no  more  gain 
by  my  moderation,  thau  it  will  lose  by  my  presump- 
tion. I  desire  to  know,"  continued  he,  addressing  Lange, 
"  what  errors  you  and  your  theologians  have  found  iu 
my  theses  ?  Who  knows  not  that  a  new  idea  is  seldom 
advanced  without  an  appearance  of  arrogance,  and  an 
accusation  of  disputatiousness  ?  Were  humility  herself 
to  undertake  something  new,  those  of  an  opposite 
opinion  would  charge  her  with  pride.  Why  were 
Christ  and  all  the  martyrs  put  to  death '?  Because  they 
were  deemed  proud  despisers  of  the  wisdom  of  the 
time,  and  advanced  new  truths  without  previously 
taking  counsel  of  the  organs  of  ancient  opinion." 

"  Let  not  the  wise  of  the  present  day,  then,  expect 
of  me  humility,  or  rather  hypocrisy  enough,  to  ask 
their  opinion  before  publishing  what  duty  calls  me  to 
say.  What  I  do  will  be  done,  not  by  the  prudence  of 
men,  but  by  the  counsel  of  God.  If  the  work  is  of 
God,  who  can  arrest  it?  If  it  is  not  of  God,  who  can 
advance  it  ?  Not  my  will,  uor  theirs,  nor  ours,  but 
Thy  will  be  done,  O  Holy  Father,  who  art  in  heaven !" 
In  these  words  what  courage,  what  noble  enthusiasm, 
what  confidence  in  God ;  and,  above  all,  what  truth — 
truth  fitted  to  all  times  ! 

StiU,  the  reproaches  and  accusations  which  assailed 
Luther  from  all  quarters,  failed  not  to  make  some 
impression  on  his  mind.  His  hopes  were  disappointed. 
He  had  expected  to  see  the  heads  of  the  Chm-ch,  and 
the  most  distinguished  scholars  of  the  nation,  publicly 
uniting  with  him ;  but  it  was  otherwise.  A  word  of 
approbation,  allowed  to  escape  at  the  fii'st  moment  of 
enthusiasm,  was  all  that  the  best  disposed  gave  him  ; 
while  several  of  those  whom  he  had  till  then  most 
highly  venerated,  were  loud  iu  censuring  him.  He 
felt  himself  alone  in  the  whole  Church — alone  against 
Eome — alone  at  the  foot  of  that  ancient  and  formidable 
edifice,  whose  foundations  lay  deep  iu  the  bowels  of 
the  earth,  whose  battlements  reached  the  clouds,  and 
at  which  he  had  just  struck  a  daring  blow.  He  was 
troubled  and  depressed.  Doubts,  which  he  thought  he 
had  surmounted,  returned  with  new  force.  He  trem- 
bled at  the  thought  of  having  the  authority  of  the 
whole  Church  against  him,  of  withdrawing  from  that 
authority,  and  resisting  that  voice  which  nations  and 
ages  had  humbly  obeyed, — of  setting  himself  in  oppo- 
sition to  that  Church  which  he  had  from  infancy  been 


accustomed  to  venerate  as  the  mother  of  the  faithful. 
.  .  .  He,  a  paltry  monk,  .  .  .  the  effort  was 
too  great  for  man.  No  step  cost  him  more  thau  this, 
and,  accordingly,  it  was  the  step  which  decided  the 
Reformation. 

The  struggle  which  took  place  in  his  soul  cannot  be 
better  described  thau  iu  his  own  words.  "  I  began 
this  affair,"  says  he,  "  with  great  fear  and  trembling. 
Who  was  I,  a  poor,  miserable,  despicable  friar,  liker  a 
corpse  than  a  living  man, — who  was  I,  to  oppose  the 
majesty  of  the  pope,  before  whom  not  only  the  kings 
of  the  earth  and  the  whole  world,  but  also  (if  I  may  so 
speak)  heaven  and  hell  trembled,  compelled  to  yield 
obedience  to  his  nod  ?  Nobody  can  imagine  what  ray 
heart  suffered  during  those  two  first  years,  and  into 
what  depression — I  might  say  what  despair — I  was 
often  plunged.  No  idea  of  it  cau  be  formed  by  those 
proud  spirits  who  afterwards  attacked  the  pope  with 
great  boldness,  although  with  all  their  ability  they 
could  not  have  done  him  the  least  harm,  had  not  Jesus 
Christ,  by  me,  his  feeble  and  unworthy  instrument, 
given  him  a  wound  which  never  will  be  cured.  But 
while  they  were  contented  to  look  on,  and  leave  me 
alone  in  danger,  I  was  not  so  joyful,  so  tranquil,  or  so 
sure  about  the  business;  for  at  that  time  I  did  not 
know  many  things  which,  thank  God,  I  know  now. 
It  is  true,  several  pious  Christians  were  much  pleased 
with  my  propositions,  and  set  a  great  value  upon  them, 
but  I  could  not  own  and  regard  them  as  the  organs  of 
the  Holy  Spirit.  I  looked  only  to  the  pope,  the  cai-- 
dinals,  bishops,  theologians,  jurisconsults,  monks,  and 
priests.  That  was  the  direction  from  which  I  expected 
the  Spirit  to  come.  vStill  liaving,  by  means  of  Scrip- 
ture, come  off  victorious  o^er  all  contrary  arguments, 
I  have  at  length,  by  the  grace  of  Christ,  though  after 
much  pain,  travail,  and  anguish,  surmounted  the  only 
argument  which  arrested  me, — viz.,  that  it  is  necessary 
to  listen  to  the  Church ;  for,  from  the  bottom  of  ray 
heart,  I  honoured  the  church  of  the  pope  as  the  true 
Church ;  and  did  so  with  much  more  sincerity  and 
veneration  than  those  shameless  and  infamous  cor- 
rupters who  are  now  so  very  forward  in  opposing  me. 
Had  I  despised  the  pope  as  much  as  he  is  despised  in 
the  hearts  of  those  who  praise  him  so  loudly  with  their 
lips,  I  would  have  dreaded  that  the  earth  would  in- 
stantly open  and  swallow  me  up,  as  it  did  Korah  and 
his  company!" 

How  honourable  these  misgivings  are  to  Luther  I 
How  well  they  display  the  sincerity  and  upriglitness  of 
his  soiU !  And  how  much  more  worthy  of  respect  do 
those  painful  assaults  which  he  had  to  sustain,  both 
within  and  without,  prove  him  to  be,  than  mere  intre- 
pidity without  any  such  struggle,  could  have  done! 
The  travail  of  his  soul  clearly  displays  the  truth  and 
divinity  of  his  work.  We  see  that  their  origin  and 
principle  were  in  heaveu.  After  all  the  facts  which 
we  have  stated,  who  will  presume  to  say  that  the 
Reformation  was  an  affair  of  politics  1  No,  assuredly; 
it  was  not  the  effect  of  human  policy,  but  of  the  power 
of  God.  Had  Luther  been  urged  "by  human  passions 
only,  he  would  have  yielded  to  his  feai's  ;  his  miscalcu- 
latious  and  scruples  would  have  smothered  the  fire 
which  had  been  kindled  in  his  soul,  and  he  would  only 
have  thrown  a  transient  gleam  upon  the  Church,  iu  the 


TETZEL'S  ATTACK— LUTHER'S  REPLY. 


same  way  as  the  many  zealous  and  pious  men  •whose 
names  luwe  come  clown  to  us.  But  now  God's  time 
bad  arrived;  the  work  was  not  to  be  arrested;  the 
emancipation  of  the  Church  was  to  be  accomplished. 
Luther  was  destined  at  least  to  prepai-c  that  complete 
emancipation,  and  tliose  extensive  developments  which 
are  promised  to  the  kingdom  of  Christ.  Accordingly, 
he  experienced  the  truth  of  the  magnificent  promise : 
"  The  strong  men  shall  faint  and  be  weary,  and  the 
young  men  utterly  fail ;  but  they  who  wait  upon  the 
Lord  shiill  renew  their  strength ;  they  shall  mount  up 
with  wings  like  eagles."  This  Divine  power  which 
filled  the  heart  of  the  doctor  of  AVittembcrg,  and 
which  had  engaged  him  in  the  combat,  soon  gave  him 
back  all  his  former  resolution. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Tetiol'»  Attauk— Luther's  Reply— Good  Works— Lutlier  and  Spalatin— Study 
of  Scripture-Seheurl  and  LutUcv— Doubts  oa  the  Theses- Luther  tor 
the  People— A  New  Suit. 

The  reproaches,  timidity,  or  silence,  of  Luther's 
friends  had  discouraged  him ;  the  attacks  of  his  enemies 
had  the  very  opposite  effect.  This  frequently  happens. 
The  adversaries  of  the  truth,  while  thinking  by  their 
violence  to  do  their  own  work,  often  do  that  of  God 
himself.  The  gauntlet  which  had  been  thrown  down 
was  taken  up  by  Tctzel  with  a  feeble  hand.  Luther's 
sermon,  which  had  been  to  the  people  what  his  theses 
had  been  to  the  learned,  was  the  subject  of  his  first 
reply.  He  refuted  it  point  by  point  in  his  own  way, 
and  then  announced  that  he  was  preparing  to  combat 
his  adversary  at  greater  length  in  theses,  which  he 
would  maintain  at  the  University  of  Frankfort  on  the 
Oder.  "  Then,"  said  he,  adverting  to  the  conclusion 
of  Luther's  sermon, — '•  then  every  one  will  be  able  to 
judge  who  is  heresiarch,  heretic,  schismatic,  erroneous, 
rash,  and  calumnious.  Then  will  it  be  manifest  to  the 
eyes  of  all  who  has  a  dull  brain,  who  has  never  felt 
the  Bible,  read  Christian  doctrines,  understood  his 
own  teachers.  ...  In  maintaining  the  propositions 
which  I  advance,  I  am  ready  to  suffer  all  things, 
prison,  cudgel,  water,  and  fire." 

One  thing  which  strikes  us  in  reading  this  produc- 
tion of  Tetzel,  is  the  difference  between  his  German 
and  that  of  Luther.  One  would  say  that  an  interval 
of  several  ages  is  between  them.  A  foreigner, 
especially,  sometimes  finds  it  difficult  to  comprehend 
Tetzel,  whereas  the  language  of  Luther  is  almost  the 
same  as  that  of  our  day.  A  comparison  of  the  two  is 
sufficient  to  shew  that  Luther  is  the  creator  of  the 
German  language.  No  doubt  this  is  one  of  his  least 
merits,  but  still'it  is  one. 

Luther  replied  without  naming  Tetzel ;  Tetzel  had 
not  named  him.  But  there  was  nobody  in  Germany 
who  could  not  have  placed  at  the  head  of  their  publica- 
tions the  name  which  they  had  judged  it  expedient  to 
suppress.  Tetzel  tried  to  confound  the  repentance 
which  God  demands  with  the  penance  which  the 
Chittch  imposes,  in  order  to  give  a  higher  value  to  his 


indulgences.  Luther  made  it  his  business  to  clear  up 
this  ])oiut. 

"To  avoid  many  words,"  said  he,  in  his  graphic 
style,  "  I  give  to  the  wind  (which,  besides,  has  more 
leisure  than  I  have)  his  other  words,  which  are  only 
sheets  of  paper  and  withered  leaves ;  and  I  content 
myself  with  examining  the  foundations  of  his  house  of 
bur-thistle. 

"The  penitence  which  the  holy  father  imposes  can- 
not be  that  which  Jesus  Clirist  demands ;  for  whatever 
the  holy  father  imposes  he  cau  dispense  with  ;  and  if 
those  two  penitences  were  one  and  the  same,  it  would 
follow  that  the  holy  father  takes  away  what  Jesus 
appoints,  and  thereby  makes  void  the  commandment 

of  God Ah !  if  it  so  pleases  him,  let  him 

maltreat  nie,"  continues  Luther,  after  quoting  other 
false  interpretations  of  Tetzel ;  "  let  him  call  me  heretic, 
schismatic,  calumniator,  or  anything  he  likes ;  I  wiU 
not,  on  that  account,  be  his  enemy,  but  will  pray  for 
him  as  for  a  friend.  But  it  is  not  possible  to  allow 
him  to  treat  the  Holy  Scriptures,  our  consolation, 
(Rom.  XV.  4,)  as  a  sow  treats  a  sack  of  corn." 

We  must  accustom  ourselves  to  Luther's  occasional 
use  of  expressions  too  harsh  and  homely  for  our  age, — 
it  was  the  custom  of  the  time ;  and  under  those  words, 
which  in  our  days  would  violate  the  proprieties  of 
language,  there  is  usually  a  force  and  justness  which  dis- 
poses us  to  pardon  their  rankness.  He  continues  thus : 
"  He  who  buys  indulgences,  say  our  adversaries, 
does  better  than  he  who  gives  alms  to  a  poor  man  not 
absolutely  in  extremity.  Now,  let  them  tell  us  that 
the  Turks  are  profaning  our  churches  and  crosses,  we 
will  be  able  to  hear  it  without  a  shudder  ;  for  we  have 
amongst  ourselves  Turks  a  hundred  times  worse,  who 
profane  and  annihilate  the  only  true  sanctuary,  the 
"Word  of  God,  which  sanctifies  all  things.  .  .  .  Let 
him  who  would  follow  this  precept  take  good  care  not 
to  give  food  to  the  hungry,  nor  clothing  to  the  naked, 
before  they  give  up  the  ghost,  and,  consequently,  have 
no  need  of  his  assistance." 

It  is  important  to  contrast  the  zeal  which  Luther 
thus  manifests  for  good  works  with  what  he  says  of 
justification  by  faith.  Indeed,  no  man  who  has  any 
experience,  or  any  knowledge  of  Christianity,  needs 
this  new  proof  of  a  truth  of  which  he  is  fully  assured, — 
viz.,  that  the  more  we  adhere  to  justification  by  faith, 
the  more  strongly  we  feel  the  necessity  of  works,  and 
the  more  diligently  we  practise  them;  whereas  lax 
views  as  to  the  doctrine  of  faith  necessarily  lead  to 
laxity  of  conduct.  Luther,  as  St.  Paul  before,  and 
Howard  after  him,  are  proofs  of  the  former;  all  men 
without  faith  (and  with  such  the  world  is  filled)  are 
proofs  of  the  latter. 

Luther  comes  next  to  the  insulting  language  of 
Tetzel,  and  pays  him  back  in  his  own  way.  "At  the 
sound  of  these  invectives  methinks  I  hear  a  large  ass 
braying  at  me.  I  am  delighted  at  it,  and  would  be 
very  sorry  that  such  people  should  give  me  the  name 
of  a  good  Christian."  We  must  give  Luther  as  he  is 
with  all  his  foibles.  This  turn  for  pleasantry,  coarse 
pleasantry,  was  one  of  them.  The  Reformer  was  a 
great  man,  undoubtedly  a  man  of  God ;  but  he  was  a 
man,  not  an  angel,  and  not  even  a  perfect  man.  Who 
is  entitled  to  call  upon  him  for  perfection  ? 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


'•  For  tlie  rest,"  adds  he,  challenging  liis  opponents 
to  the  combat,  "although  it  is  not  usual  to  burn 
heretics  for  such  points,  here,  at  Wittemberg,  am  I, 
Doctor  Martin  Luther!  Is  there  any  inquisitor,  who 
pretends  to  chew  fire,  and  make  rocks  leap  into  the  air? 
I  give  him  to  know,  that  he  has  a  safe-conduct  to  come 
here,  an  open  door,  and  bed  and  board  certain,  all  by 
the  gracious  care  of  our  admirable  Duke  Frederick, 
who  will  never  protect  heresy." 

We  see  that  Luther  was  not  deficient  in  courage. 
He  trusted  to  the  "Word  of  God — a  rock  which  never 
gives  way  in  the  tempest.  But  God,  in  faithfulness, 
gave  him  still  further  aid.  The  bursts  of  joy  with 
which  the  multitude  had  hailed  Luther's  theses  were 
soon  succeeded  by  a  gloomy  silence.  The  learned  had 
timidly  drawn  back  on  hearing  the  calamities  and 
insults  of  Tetzel  and  the  Dominicans.  The  bishops, 
who  had  previously  been  loud  in  condemuatiou  of  the 
abuses  of  indulgences,  seeing  them  at  length  attacked, 
had  not  faUed,  with  an  inconsistency  of  which  there 
are  but  too  many  examples,  to  find  that  at  that  time 
the  attack  was  inopportune.  The  greater  ])art  of  the 
Reformer's  friends  were  frightened.  Several  of  them 
had  fled.  But  when  the  first  terror  was  over,  the 
minds  of  men  took  an  opposite  direction.  The  monk 
of  "Wittemberg  soon  saw  himself  again  siUTOunded  with 
a  great  number  of  friends  and  admirers. 

There  was  one  who,  although  timid,  remained  faith- 
ful to  him  throughout  this  crisis,  and  whose  friendship 
at  once  solaced  and  supported  him.  This  was  Spalatin. 
Their  correspondence  was  not  interrupted.  "I  thank 
you,"  says  he,  when  speaking  of  a  particular  mark  of 
friendship  which  he  had  received  from  him ;  '•  but 
what  do  I  not  owe  you?"  It  was  on  the  11th  Novem- 
ber, just  fifteen  days  after  the  publication  of  the 
theses,  and  consequently  when  the  minds  of  men  were 
in  a  state  of  the  greatest  fermentation,  that  Luther 
thus  delights  to  unbosom  his  gratitude  to  his  friend. 

In  the  same  letter  to  Spalatin,  it  is  interesting  to  see 
the  strong  man,  who  had  just  performed  a  most  daring 
exploit,  declaring  from  what  source  he  derives  his 
strength.  "  "We  can  do  nothing  of  ourselves ;  we  can 
do  everything  by  the  grace  of  God.  By  us  all  igno- 
rance is  invincible,  but  no  ignorance  is  invincible  by 
the  grace  of  God.  The  more  we  endeavour  of  our- 
selves to  attain  to  wisdom,  the  nearer  we  approach  to 
foUy.  It  is  not  true  that  this  invincible  ignorance 
excuses  the  sinner;  were  it  so,  there  would  be  no  sin 
in  the  world." 

Luther  had  not  sent  his  propositions  either  to  the 
prince  or  to  any  of  his  courtiers.  The  chaplain  seems 
to  have  expressed  some  surprise  at  this,  and  Luther 
answers:  "I  did  not  wish  my  theses  to  reach  our 
illustrious  prince  or  any  of  his  court  before  those  who 
think  themselves  specially  addressed  had  received 
them,  lest  it  should  be  thought  that  I  had  published 
them  by  order  of  the  prince,  or  to  gain  his  favour,  or 
from  opposition  to  the  Bishop  of  Mentz.  I  hear  there 
are  already  several  who  dream  such  things.  But  now 
I  can  swear  in  all  safety  that  my  theses  were  published 
without  the  knowledge  of  Duke  Frederick." 

If  Spalatin  solaced  his  friend,  and  supported  him 
by  his  influence,  Luther,  on  his  part,  was  desirous  to 
meet  the  requests  of  the  modest  chaplain.     The  latter, 


among  other  questions,  asked  one  which  is  frequently 
repeated  in  our  day, — ""What  is  the  best  method  of 
studying  the  Holy  Scriptures  ?" 

"  Till  now,  my  dear  Spalatin,"  replied  Luther,  "  you 
have  asked  questions  which  I  could  answer.  But  to 
direct  you  in  the  study  of  the  Scriptures,  is  more  than 
I  am  able  to  do.  However,  if  you  would  absolutely 
know  my  method,  I  will  not  hide  it  from  you. 

"  It  is  most  certain  that  we  cannot  succeed  in  com- 
prehending the  Scripture  either  by  study  or  mere 
intellect.  Yom-  first  duty,  then,  is  to  begin  with 
prayer.  Entreat  the  Lord  that  He  will,  in  His  gi-eat 
mercy,  deign  to  grant  you  the  true  knowledge  of  His 
"Word.  There  is  no  other  interpreter  of  the  Word  of 
God  than  the  Author  of  that  "Word,  according  as  it  is 
said,  '  They  will  all  be  taught  of  God.'  Hope  nothing 
from  your  works,  nothing  from  your  intellect.  Trust 
only  iu  God,  and  in  the  influence  of  His  Spirit. 
Believe  one  who  is  speaking  from  experience." 

AVe  here  see  how  Luther  attained  possession  of  the 
truth  of  which  he  was  a  preacher.  It  was  not,  as  some 
pretend,  by  confiding  in  a  presumptuous  reason,  nor, 
as  others  maintain,  by  abandoning  himself  to  hateful 
passions.  The  source  from  which  he  drew  it  was  the 
pui-est,  holiest,  and  most  sublime — God  himself  con- 
sulted in  humility,  confidence,  and  prayer.  Few  in 
our  day  imitate  him,  and  hence  few  comprehend  him. 
To  a  serious  mind  these  words  of  Luther  arc  iu  them- 
selves a  justification  of  the  Reformation. 

Luther  likewise  found  comfort  in  the  friendship  of 
respectable  laymen.  Christopher  Scheurl,  the  excel- 
lent secretary  of  the  imperial  city  of  Nm-emberg,  gave 
him  gratifying  marks  of  his  friendship.  "We  know  how 
pleasant  expressions  of  sympathy  are  to  the  man  who 
feels  himself  assailed  from  all  quarters.  The  secretary 
of  Niu-emberg  did  more ;  he  tried  to  make  friends  to 
his  friend.  He  urged  him  to  dedicate  one  of  his  works 
to  a  then  celebrated  lawyer  of  Nuremberg,  named 
Jerome  Ebner.  "  You  have  a  high  idea  of  ray  studies," 
modestly  replied  Luther ;  "  but  I  have  the  poorest  idea 
of  them  myself.  Nevertheless,  I  was  desirous  to  meet 
your  wishes.  I  have  searched  .  .  .  ;  but  iu  all 
my  store,  which  I  never  found  so  meagre,  nothing  pre- 
sented itself  which  seemed  at  all  worthy  of  being  dedi- 
cated to  so  great  a  man  by  so  little  a  man."  Striking 
humility !  It  is  Luther  who  speaks  thus,  and  the  per- 
son with  whom  he  contrasts  himself  is  Doctor  Ebner, 
who  is  altogether  unknown  to  us.  Posterity  has  not 
ratified  Luther's  judgment. 

Luther,  who  had  done  nothing  to  circulate  his  theses, 
had  not  sent  them  to  Scheurl  any  more  than  to  the 
elector  and  his  courtiers.  The  secretary  of  Nuremberg 
expressed  his  surprise.  "  I  had  no  intention,"  replies 
Luther,  "  to  give  my  theses  so  much  publicity.  I 
wished  only  to  confer  on  their  contents  with  some  of 
those  who  reside  with  us  or  near  us ;  intending,  if  they 
condemned,  to  destroy,  and  if  they  approved,  to  pub- 
lish them.  But  now  they  are  printed,  reprinted,  and 
spread  far  and  wide,  beyond  my  expectation ;  so  much 
so  that  I  repent  of  their  production.  Not  that  I  have 
any  fear  of  the  truth  being  known  by  the  people,  (for 
this  was  all  I  sought;)  but  this  is  not  the  way  of  in- 
structing them.  There  are  questions  in  the  theses  as 
to  which  I  have  still  my  doubts ;  and  if  I  had  thought 


SCHEURL  AND  LUTHER. 


89 


that  tliey  were  to  produce  such  a  scusatiou,  there  ai'o 
things  which  I  would  liave  omitted,  and  others  wliich  I 
would  have  aflirmcd  with  greater  confidence."  Luther 
afterwards  thought  differently.  Far  from  fearing  he 
had  said  too  much,  he  declared  that  he  ought  to  have 
said  still  more.  But  the  apprehensions  which  Luther 
expresses  to  Scheurl  do  honour  to  his  sincerity.  They 
shew  that  he  had  nothing  like  a  premeditated  plan, 
had  no  party  spirit,  no  overweening  conceit,  and  sought 
nothing  but.  the  trutli.  "When  he  had  fully  discovered 
the  truth,  his  langu;igc  was  different.  "You  will  find 
iu  my  first  writings,"  said  he,  many  years  after,  "  that 
I  very  humbly  made  many  con- 
cessions to  the  pope,  and  ou 
points  of  great  importance, — 
concessions  which  I  now  de- 
test, and  regard  as  abominable 
and  blasphemous." 

Scheurl  was  not  the  only 
layman  of  importance  who,  at 
this  time,  testified  his  friend- 
ship for  Luther.  The  cele- 
brated painter,  Albert  Durcr. 
sent  him  a  present, — perhap-> 
one  of  his  pictures ;  and  the 
doctor  expressed  his  sense  of 
the  obhgatiou  iu  the  warmc~t 
terms. 

Thus  Luther  had  practical 
experience  of  the  truth  of  that 
saying  of  Divine  wisdom, — 
"  A  friend  loveth  at  all  times ; 
and  a  brother  is  born  for  ad- 
versity." These  words  he  re- 
membered for  the  sake  of 
.iilirrs  also,  and  accordingly 
|4.  ;uk'd  the  cause  of  the  whole 
p 'puliition.  The  elector  had 
just  levied  a  tax,  anditwascon- 

rhl.atly  alleged  that  he  was  going  to  levy  another,  prob- 
:il.ly  on  the  advice  of  his  counsellor  Pfeffinger,  against 
whom  Luther  often  throws  out  cutting  sarcasms.  The 
doctor  boldly  placed  himself  in  the  breach.  "  Let  not 
your  Highness,"  said  he,  "  despise  the  prayer  of  a  poor 
raendicaut.  In  the  name  of  God  I  entreat  you  not  to 
order  a  new  tax.  My  heart  is  broken,  as  well  as  that 
of  several  of  your  most  devoted  servants,  at  seeing  how 
much  the  last  has  injured  your  fair  fame,  and  the  popu- 
larity which  your  highness  enjoyed.  It  is  true  that 
(iud  has  endowed  you  with  profound  intellect,  so  that 
you  see  much  farther  into  things  than  I,  or  doubtless 
all  your  subjects,  do.  But,  perhaps,  it  is  the  will  of 
God  that  a  feeble  intellect  instruct  a  great  one,  in  order 
that  no  one  may  trust  in  himself,  but  only  in  the  Lord 
our  God.  May  he  deign  to  keep  your  body  in  health 
for  our  good,  aud  destine  your  soul  to  life  eternal. 
Amen."  In  this  way  it  is  that  the  Gospel,  while  it 
makes  us  honour  kings,  makes  us  also  plead  the  cause 
of  the  people.  "While  it  tells  them  of  their  duties,  it, 
at  the  same  time,  reminds  the  prince  of  their  rights. 
The  voice  of  a  Christian  such  as  Luther,  raised  in  the 
cabinet  of  a  sovereign,  might  often  supply  the  place  of 
a  whole  assembly  of  legislators. 
Iu  this  letter,  in  which  Luther  addresses  a  harsh 


lesson  to  the  elector,  lie  fears  not  to  present  a  request 
to  him,  or  rather  to  remind  him  of  a  promise, — viz.,  to 
give  him  a  new  suit.  This  freedom  of  Luther,  at  a 
moment  when  he  might  have  feared  he  had  given 
offence  to  Frederick,  is  equally  honourable  to  the 
prince  and  to  the  reformer.  "  But,"  adds  he,  "  if  it  is 
Pfeffinger  who  has  the  charge  of  it,  let  him  give  it  in 
reality,  and  not  in  protestations  of  friendship.  He 
knows  very  well  how  to  weave  a  web  of  good  words, 
but  no  good  cloth  ever  comes  out  of  it."  Luther 
thought,  that  by  the  faithful  -counsel  which  he  had 
given  to  his  prince,  he  had  well  deserved  his  court 


dress.  Be  this  as  it  may,  two  years  later  he  had  not 
received  it,  and  renewed  his  request.  This  seems  to 
indicate  that  Frederick  was  not  so  much  under  the 
influence  of  Luther  as  has  been  said. 


CHAPTER  YIII. 

Disputation  at  Frankfoit— Tetzel's  Theses— Menaces— Opposition  of  Kuip- 
strow— LuUicr's  Tlieses  Burnt- The  Monks- Luther's  Peace— Tetzel's 
Theses  Burnt— Luther's  Vexation. 

The  minds  of  men  had  thus  gi-adually  recovered  from 
their  first  alarm.  Luther  lumself  was  disposed  to  de- 
clare that  his  words  did  not  mean  so  much  as  had  been 
imagined.  New  circumstances  might  divert  public  at- 
tention, and  the  blow  struck  at  Roman  doctrine  might, 
as  had  been  the  case  with  so  many  others,  spend  itself 
iu  the  air.  The  partisans  of  Rome  prevented  this  re- 
sult. They  fanned  the  flame  instead  of  smothering  it. 
Tetzel  aud  the  Dominicans  replied  haughtily  to  the 
attack  wliich  had  been  made  upon  them.     Burning 


90 


HISTORY  OF  THE  EEFOEMATION. 


■with  eagerness  to  crush  the  audacious  monk  who  had 
disturbed  their  traffic,  and  to  gain  the  favour  of  the 
Eoman  pontiff,  they  uttered  cries  of  rage.  They  main- 
tained that  to  attack  the  indulgence  ordered  by  the 
pope  was  to  attack  the  pope  himself,  and  they  called 
in  the  aid  of  all  the  monks  and  theologians  of  their 
school.  In  fact,  Tetzel  felt  that  an  opponent  like 
Luther  was  too  much  for  him  single-handed.  Quite 
disconcerted,  but  more  especially  enraged  at  the  doc- 
tor's attack,  he  quitted  the  environs  of  "Wittemberg,  and 
repaired  to  Frankfort-on-the-Oder,  where  he  arrived 
as  early  as  November,  1517.  The  university  of  that 
town,  like  that  of  Wittemberg,  was  of  recent  date. 
One  of  the  professors  was  Conrad  Wimpina,  a  man  of 
much  eloquence, — an  old  rival  of  Pollich  of  Meller- 
stadt, — and  one  of  the  most  distinguished  theologians 
of  the  time.  Wlmpina's  envy  was  excited  both  by 
the  doctor  and  by  the  university  of  Wittemberg ;  for 
then-  rei)utation  obscured  his.  Tetzel  applied  to  him 
for  a  reply  to  Luther's  theses,  aud  TVimpina  wrote  two 
series  of  antitheses, — the  former  to  defend  the  doctrine 
of  indulgences,  and  the  latter  to  defend  the  authority 
of  the  pope. 

This  disputation,  which  had  been  long  prepared  and 
loudly  advertised,  and  of  which  Tetzel  entertained  the 
highest  hopes,  took  place  on  the  20th  January,  1518. 
Tetzel  having  beaten  up  for  recruits,  monks  had  been 
sent  from  all  the  neighbouring  cloisters,  and  assembled 
to  the  number  of  more  than  three  hundred.  Tetzel 
read  his  theses,  one  of  which  declared,  ''  that  whoso- 
ever says  that  the  soul  does  not  fly  away  from  purga- 
tory as  soon  as  the  money  tinkles  on  the  bottom  of  the 
strong  box,  is  in  error." 

But,  above  all,  he  maintained  propositions,  accord- 
ing to  which  the  pope  appeared  to  be  truly,  as  the 
apostle  expresses  it,  seated  as  God  in  the  temple  of  God. 
It  was  convenient  for  this  shameless  merchant  to  take 
refuge  imder  the  pope's  mantle,  -ftdth  aU  his  disorders 
and  scandals. 

In  presence  of  the  numerous  assembly  in  which  he 
stood,  he  declared  himself  ready  to  maintain  as  follows  : 

3.  "  Christians  must  be  taught  that  the  pope,  by  the 
greatness  of  his  power,  is  above  the  whole  universal 
Church  and  all  coimcils.  His  orders  ought  to  be  im- 
plicitly obeyed. 

4.  "  Christians  must  be  taught  that  the  pope  alone 
is  entitled  to  decide  in  matters  of  Christian  faith ;  that 
he,  and  none  but  he,  has  the  power  to  explain  the 
meaning  of  Scripture  in  his  own  sense,  and  to  approve 
or  condemn  aU  words  or  works  of  others. 

5.  "  Christians  must  be  taught  that  the  judgment  of 
the  pope  in  things  which  concern  Christiau  faith,  and 
which  are  necessary  to  the  salvation  of  the  human 
race,  cannot  possibly  err. 

6.  "  Christians  must  be  taught  that  in  matters  of 
faith,  they  ought  to  lean  and  rest  more  upon  the  opinion 
of  the  pope,  as  manifested  by  his  decisions,  than  on  the 
opinion  of  all  wise  men,  as  drawn  by  them  out  of 
Scripture. 

8.  "  Christians  must  be  taught  that  those  who  at- 
tack the  honour  and  dignity  of  the  pope  are  guilty  of 
the  crime  of  lese-majesty,  and  deserve  malediction. 

17.  "  Christians  must  be  taught  that  there  are  many 
things  which  the  Church  regards  as  authentic  articles 


of  universal  truth,  although  they  are  not  found  either 
in  the  canon  of  Scripture  or  in  ancient  doctors. 

44.  "  Christians  must  be  taught  to  regard  those  as 
obstinate  heretics,  who,  by  their  words,  their  actions, 
or  their  -m-itings,  declare  that  they  would  not  retract 
their  heretical  propositions  were  excommunication  after 
excommunication  to  rain  or  hail  upon  them. 

48.  '■  Christians  must  be  taught  that  those  who  pro- 
tect  heretics  in  their  error,  and  who,  by  their  authority, 
prevent  them  from  being  brought  before  the  judge  who 
is  entitled  to  try  them,  are  excommunicated ;  that  if, 
in  the  space  of  a  year,  they  desist  not  from  doing  so, 
they  will  be  declared  infamous,  and  severely  pimished 
with  various  punishments,  in  terms  of  law,  and  to  the 
terror  of  all  men. 

50.  "  Christians  must  be  told  that  those  who  spoil 
so  many  books  and  so  much  paper,  and  who  preach  or 
dispute  publicly  and  wickedly  on  the  confession  of  the 
mouth,  the  satisfaction  of  works,  the  rich  and  great 
indulgences  of  the  Bishop  of  Rome,  and  on  his  power; 
that  those  who  ally  themselves  with  those  so  preaching 
or  writing,  who  take  pleasure  in  their  -vxTitings,  and 
circulate  them  among  the  people  and  in  the  world ;  that 
those,  in  fine,  who  secretly  speak  of  those  things  in  a 
contemptuous  and  irreverent  manner,  may  well  tremble 
at  incmTing  the  pains  which  have  just  been  named, 
and  of  precipitating  themselves  and  others  with  them, 
at  the  last  day,  into  eternal  condemnation,  and  even 
here  below  into  great  disgrace.  For  every  beast  that 
toucheth  the  mountain  shall  be  stoned." 

AVe  see  that  Luther  was  not  the  only  person  whom 
Tetzel  attacked.  In  the  forty-eighth  theses  he  had 
probably  the  Elector  of  Saxony  in  view.  These  pro- 
positions savour  much  of  the  Dominican.  To  threaten 
every  contradictor  with  severe  punishment,  was  an  in- 
quisitor's argument,  and  scarcely  admitted  of  a  reply. 
The  three  hundred  monks  whom  Tetzel  had  brought 
together  gaped  and  stared  in  admiration  of  his  dis- 
course. The  theologians  of  the  university  were  too 
much  afraid  of  being  classed  with  the  abettors  of 
heresy,  or  were  too  much  attached  to  the  principles  of 
"Wimpina,  candidly  to  adopt  the  extraordinary  theses 
which  had  just  been  read. 

The  whole  affair,  about  which  so  much  noise  had 
been  made,  seemed  destined  to  be  only  a  sham  fight; 
but  among  the  crowd  of  students,  present  at  the  dispu- 
tation, was  a  young  man  of  about  twenty,  named  John 
Knipstrow.  He  had  read  the  theses  of  Luther,  and 
found  them  conformable  to  the  doctrines  of  Scripture. 
Indignant  at  seeing  the  truth  publicly  trampled  under 
foot,  while  no  one  appeared  to  defend  it,  this  young 
man  rose  up,  to  the  great  astonishment  of  the  whole 
assembly,  and  attacked  the  presumptuous  Tetzel.  The 
poor  Dominican,  who  had  not  counted  on  such  opposi- 
tion, was  quite  disconcerted.  After  some  efforts,  he 
quitted  the  field  of  battle,  and  gave  place  to  Wimpina, 
who  made  a  more  vigorous  resistance ;  but  Knipstrow 
pressed  him  so  closely,  that,  to  put  an  end  to  a  contest 
which,  in  his  eyes,  was  so  unbecoming,  "Wimpina,  who 
presided,  declared  the  discussion  closed,  and  proceeded 
forthwith  to  confer  the  degree  of  doctor  on  Tetzel,  in 
recompense  of  this  glorious  combat.  Wimpina,  to  dis- 
encumber himself  of  the  young  orator,  caused  him  to 
be  sent  to  the  convent  of  Pyritz  iu  Pomerania,  with 


LUTHER'S  THESES  BURNT. 


orders  that  he  should  be  strictly  watched.  But  this 
dawning  light  was  only  removed  from  the  banks  of  the 
Oder  that  it  might  afterwards  shed  a  bright  effulgence 
in  Pomerauia.  AV'hen  God  sees  it  meet,  he  employs 
scholars  to  confound  teachers. 

Tctzcl,  wishing  to  repair  the  check  which  he  had 
received,  had  recourse  to  the  ultima  ratio  of  Rome  and 
the  inquisitors, — I  mean  tiio  faggot.  On  a  public  walk 
in  one  of  the  suburbs  of  Frankfort,  he  caused  a  pulpit 
and  a  scaffold  to  be  erected,  and  repaired  thither 
in  solemn  procession  with  his  insiynia  of  inquisitor. 
Mounting  the  pulpit,  he  let  loose  all  his  fury.  He 
darted  his  thunder,  and  with  his  stentorian  voice 
exclaimed,  that  the  heretic  Luther  ought  to  be  burned 
alive.  Then,  jilacing  tl\o  doctor's  theses  aiul  sermon  on 
the  scaffold,  he  burned  them.  He  was  better  acquainted 
with  tills  kind  of  work  than  with  the  defence  of  theses. 
Here  he  met  with  no  opponents,  and  his  victory 
was  complete.  The  impudent  Dominican  returned  in 
triumph  to  Frankfort.  When  parties  in  power  are 
vanquished,  they  have  recourse  to  certain  demonstra- 
tions which  must  be  conceded  to  them  as  a  kind  of 
consolation  to  their  disgrace. 

The  second  theses  of  Tetzel  form  an  important  epoch 
in  the  Reformation.  They  changed  the  locality  of  the 
dispute,  transporting  it  from  the  indulgence  market  to 
the  halls  of  the  Vatican,  and  diverting  it  from  Tetzel 
to  the  pope.  Instead  of  the  contemptible  creature 
whom  Luther  had  taken  in  his  list,  they  substituted 
the  sacred  person  of  the  head  of  the  Church.  Luther 
was  stunned  at  this.  It  is  probable  that  he  would 
himself  have  taken  the  step  at  a  later  period,  but  his 
enemies  spared  him  the  trouble.  Thenceforward  the 
question  related  not  merely  to  a  disreputable  trailic, 
but  to  Rome ;  and  the  blow  by  which  a  bold  hand  had 
tried  to  demolish  the  shop  of  Tetzel,  shook  the  very 
foundations  of  the  pontifical  throne. 

Tetzel's  theses  were  only  a  signal  to  the  Roman 
troops.  A  cry  against  Luther  arose  among  the  monks, 
who  were  infuriated  at  the  appearance  of  an  adversary 
more  formidable  than  either  Erasmus  or  Reuchlin  had 
been.  Tlie  name  of  Luther  resoiraded  from  the  pulpits 
of  the  Dominicans,  who  addressed  themselves  to  the 
passions  of  the  people,  and  inveighed  against  the  cour- 
ageous doctor  as  a  madman,  a  deceiver,  and  a  demoniac. 
His  doctrine  was  denounced  as  the  most  dreadful  heresy. 
"  Wait  only  for  a  fortnight,  or  four  weeks  at  f ui'thest," 
said  they,  "and  this  noted  heretic  will  be  burned." 
Had  it  depended  only  on  the  Dominicans,  the  fate  of 
the  Saxon  doctor  had  soon  been  that  of  Huss  and 
Jerome ;  but  his  life  wa^  destined  to  accomplish  what 
the  ashes  of  Huss  had  begun.  Each  does  the  work  of 
God — one  by  his  death,  and  another  by  his  life. 
Several  now  began  to  cry  out  that  the  whole  university 
of  Wittemberg  was  tainted  with  heresy,  and  pronounced 
It  infamous.  "  Let  us  pursue  the  villain,  and  aU  his 
partizans,"  continued  they.  In  several  places  these 
exclamations  had  the  effect  of  stirring  up  the  passions 
of  the  people.  Those  who  shared  the  opinions  of  the 
reformer  had  the  public  attention  directed  towards 
them;  and  in  every  place  where  the  monks  were 
strongest,  the  friends  of  the  Gospel  felt  the  effects  of 
their  hatred.  Thus,  in  regard  to  the  Reformation,  the 
Saviour's  prediction  began  to  be  accomplished :  "  They 


will  revile  you,  and  persecute  you,  and  say  all  manner 
of  evil  against  you  falsely,  for  my  sake."  This  is  a 
recompense  which  the  world  at  no  time  fails  to  bestow 
on  the  decided  friends  of  the  Gospel. 

When  Luther  was  made  acquainted  with  Tetzel's 
theses,  and  with  the  general  attack  of  which  they  were 
the  signal,  his  courage  rose.  lie  felt  that  it  was  neces- 
sary to  withstand  such  adversaries  to  the  face ;  and  his 
intrepid  zeal  liad  no  ditRculty  in  resolving  so  to  do. 
At  the  same  lime  their  feebleness  made  him  aware  of 
his  own  strength,  and  told  him  what  he  was. 

lie  did  not,  however,  allow  himself  to  give  way  to 
those  emotions  of  pride  which  are  so  natural  to  the 
heart  of  man.  "It  gives  me  more  difficulty,"  he 
writes  to  Spalatin,  "  to  refrain  from  despising  my 
adversaries,  and  so  sinning  against  Jesus  Christ,  than 
it  would  give  me  to  vanquish  them.  They  are  so 
ignorant  iu  things  human  and  divine,  that  one  is 
ashamed  at  having  to  fight  with  them ;  and  yet  it  is 
their  very  ignorance  which  gives  them  their  inconceiv- 
able audacity  and  face  of  brass."  But  the  most  power- 
ful support  to  Luther's  heart,  in  the  midst  of  this 
universal  opposition,  was  the  deep  conviction  that  his 
cause  was  the  cause  of  truth.  "Let  it  not  surprise 
you,"  he  writes  to  Spalatin,  at  the  beginning  of  the 
year  1518,  "that  I  am  so  much  insulted.  I  am  de- 
lighted with  these  insults.  Did  they  not  curse  me,  I 
could  not  believe  so  firmly  that  the  cause  which  I  have 
undertaken  is  God's  own  cause.  Chi-ist  has  been  set 
up  for  a  sign  to  be  spoken  against.  I  know,"  added 
he,  "  that  from  the  beginning  of  the  world  the  nature 
of  the  W'ord  of  God  has  been  such,  that  every  one  who 
has  preached  it  to  the  world,  has  been  obliged — like  the 
apostles — to  leave  all,  and  lay  his  account  -with  death. 
Were  it  otherwise,  it  would  not  be  the  Word  of  Jesus 
Christ."  This  peace  in  the  midst  of  agitation  is  a  thing 
unknown  to  the  world's  heroes.  Men  placed  at  the 
head  of  a  government,  or  of  a  political  party,  are  seen 
to  give  way  under  their  labours  and  their  vexations. 
The  Christian,  in  his  struggles,  usually  acquires  new 
strength,  because  he  has  access  to  a  mysterious  source 
of  repose  and  courage,  unknown  to  those  whose  eyes 
are  closed  to  the  Gospel. 

One  thing,  however,  sometimes  distressed  Luther, — 
viz.,  the  thought  of  the  dissensions  which  his  courageous 
opposition  might  produce.  He  knew  that  a  single 
word  might  be  sufficient  to  set  the  world  in  a  flame ; 
and  when  he  foresaw  prince  against  prince,  and  per- 
haps nation  against  nation,  his  patriotic  heart  was 
saddened,  and  his  Christian  charity  alarmed.  His 
wish  was  for  peace ;  but  he  behoved  to  speak  out.  So 
God  required.  "  I  tremble,"  said  he,  "  I  shudder  at 
the  thought  of  being  the  cause  of  discord  among  such 
mighty  princes." 

He  still  kept  silence  in  regard  to  Tetzel's  propositions 
concerning  the  pope.  Had  he  been  carried  away  by 
passion,  he  would,  doubtless,  have  made  an  impetuous 
assault  on  the  extraordinary  doctrine  under  which  his 
opponents  sought  to  take  shelter.  He  did  not  do  so ; 
and  there  is  in  this  delay,  reserve,  and  silence,  some- 
thing gi-ave  and  solemn,  which  sufficiently  explains  the 
spirit  by  which  he  was  animated.  He  waited,  but  not 
through  weakness;  for  when  he  struck  he  gave  a 
heavier  blow. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  EEFORMATtON. 


Tetzel,  after  his  auto  dafe  at  Frankfort-ou-the-Oder, 
had  hastened  to  send  his  tlieses  into  Saxony.  There, 
thought  he,  they  will  serve  as  an  antidote  to  those  of 
Luther.  A  man  from  Hallo,  employed  by  the  inquisi- 
tor to  circulate  his  propositions,  amved  at  Wittemberg. 
The  students  of  the  university,  still  indignant  at  Tetzel 
for  having  burned  the  theses  of  their  master,  no  sooner 
heard  of  the  messenger's  arrival,  than  they  sought  him 
out,  and,  gathering  round,  jostled  and  frightened  him. 
"  HoTV  dare  you  bring  such  things  here  ?  "  demanded 
they.  Some  purchasing  p;irt  of  the  copies  with  which 
he  was  provided,  and  others  seizing  the  rest,  they  got 
possession  of  his  whole  stock,  amounting  to  eight  hun- 
dred copies.  Then,  imkuown  to  the  elector,  the  senate, 
the  rector,  Luther,  and  all  the  other  professors,  they 
put  up  the  following  notice  on  the  boards  of  the  univer- 
sity:— "Whoever  is  desirous  to  be  present  at  the  bm-n- 
ing  and  funeral  of  Tetzel's  theses,  let  him  repair  at  two 
o'clock  to  the  market-place." 

Crowds  assembled  at  the  hour,  and  committed  the 
propositions  of  the 
Dominican  to  the 
flames,  amid  loud 
acclamations.  One 
copy  which  escap- 
1(1,  Luther  after- 
wards sent  to  his 
friend.  Lange  of 
Erfurt.  These 
generous  but  im- 
prudent youths  fol- 
lowed the  old  pre- 
cept, ^^  Ei/efor  eye, 
mid  tooth  for  tooth," 
and  not  that  of 
Jesus  Christ;  but 
after  the  example 
which  doctors  and 
professors  had 
.niven  at  Frank- 
fort, can  we  be 
astonished  that 
young  students 
followed  it  at  Wit- 
tembergf  The 
news  of  this  academical  execution  spread  throughout 
Germany,  and  made  a  great  noise.  Luther  was  ex- 
tremely vexed  at  it. 

"I  am  astonished,"  he  writes  to  his  old  master, 
Jodocus,  at  Ei-furt,  "  how  you  could  think  it  was  I  that 
burned  Tetzel's  theses.  Do  you  think  that  I  am  so 
devoid  of  sense  ?  But  what  can  I  do  ?  When  I  am 
the  subject  of  remark,  everything  seems  to  be  believed. 
Can  I  tie  up  the  tongues  of  the  whole  world  1  Very 
well !  Let  them  say,  let  them  hear,  let  them  see,  let 
them  pretend  whatever  they  please ;  I  will  act  as  long 
as  the  Lord  gives  me  strength,  and  with  His  help  will 
fear  nothing."  "What  will  come  out  of  it,"  says  he 
to  Lange,  "  I  know  not,  unless  it  be  that  my  danger  is 
much  increased."  The  act  of  the  students  shews  how 
much  their  hearts  already  biu-ned  for  the  cause  which 
Luther  defended.  This  was  an  important  symptom ; 
for  a  movement  among  the  young  of  necessity  soon 
extends  to  the  whole  nation. 


^ER■S    HOUSE,    FRANKFORT. 


The  theses  of  Tetzel  and  Wimpina,  though  little 
esteemed,  produced  a  certain  effect.  They  heightened 
the  dispute,  widened  the  rent  which  had  been  made 
ill  the  mantle  of  the  Church,  and  brought  questions  of 
the  highest  interest  into  tlie  field.  Accordingly,  the 
heads  of  the  Church  began  to  look  more  narrowly  at 
the  matter,  and  to  declare  decidedly  against  the  re- 
former. "  Verily,  I  know  not  in  whom  Luther  con- 
fides," said  the  Bishop  of  Brandenburg,  "when  he 
dares  thus  attack  the  power  of  bishops."  Perceiving 
that  this  new  circumstance  called  for  new  proceedings, 
the  bishop  came  in  person  to  Wittemberg ;  but  he  found 
Luther  animated  with  the  inward  joy  which  a  good 
conscience  imparts,  and  determined  to  give  battle. 
The  bishop  felt  that  the  Augustine  rajnk  was  obeying 
an  authority  superior  to  his,  and  returned  to  Branden- 
burg in  a  rage.  One  day,  in  the  winter  of  1518,  when 
sitting  at  his  fireside,  he  tm-ned  to  those  who  were 
about  him  and  said,  "I  will  not  Lay  down  my  head  in 
peace  till  I  have  thrown  Martin  into  the  fire,  as  I  do 
this  brand,"  throwing  one  into  the  grate.  The  revolu- 
tion of  the  sixteenth  century  was  not  to  be  accomplished 
by  the  heads  of  the  Church,  any  more  than  that  of  the 
first  century  had  been  by  the  Sanhedrim  and  the  syna- 
gogue. In  the  sixteenth  century,  the  heads  of  the 
Church  were  opposed  to  Luther,  the  Reformation,  and 
its  ministers ;  in  the  same  way  as  they  were  opposed 
to  Jesus  Christ,  the  Gospel,  and  His  apostles,  and  as 
they  too  often  are  at  all  times  to  the  truth.  "The 
bishops,"  says  Luther,  in  speaking  of  the  visit  which 
the  Bishop  of  Brandenburg  had  paid  him,  "  begin  to 
perceive  that  they  ought  to  have  done  what  I  am  do- 
ing, and  they  are  consequently  ashamed.  They  call 
me  proud  and  audacious,  and  I  deny  not  that  I  am  so. 
But  they  are  not  the  people  to  know  either  what  God 
is,  or  what  we  arc." 


CHAPTER  IX 

Piierio— System  of  Rome— The  Dialogue— System  of  Refonn— Reply  to 
Prierio— The  Woiil— The  Pope  and   the    Church-Hochstraten— The 
Monks— Luther  replies— Eck— The  School— The   Obehsks  — Luther's      i 
Sentiments- The  Asterisks— Rupture.  ,' 

A  MORE  serious  resistance  than  that  of  Tetzel  was     i 
already  opposed  to  Luther.     Rome  had  answered.     A     I 
reply  had  issued  from  the  walls  of  the  sacred  palace.     J 
It  was  not  Leo  X.  who  had  taken  it  into  his  head  to 
speak  tlieology.     "A  quarrel  of  monks,"  he  had  one 
day  said.     "  The  best  thing  is  not  to  meddle  with  it." 
And  on  another  occasion,  "It  is  a  drunken  German 
who  has  written  these  theses ;  when  he  recovers  from 
his  wine  he  will  speak  differently."     A  Dominican  of 
Rome,  Sylvester  Mazolini  de  Prierio  or  Prierias,  master 
of  the  sacred  palace,  exercised  the  functions  of  censor, 
and  in  this  character  was  the  first  man  in  Italy  who 
knew  of  the  Saxon  monk's  theses. 

A  Roman  censor  and  the  theses  of  Luther!     What 
a  rencounter  1     Liberty  of  si^eech,  liberty  of  investi- 


REPLY  TO  PRIERIO. 


03 


cation,  liberty  of  fiiitli,  come  iuto  collision  iu  Rome  with 
that  power  which  pretends  to  have  iu  its  hands  a 
monopoly  of  intelligence,  and  to  open  and  shut  the 
mouth  of  Cliristondom  at  its  pleasure.  The  struggle 
between  Christian  liberty,  which  begets  children  of 
God,  aud  pontifical  despotism,  which  begets  slaves  of 
Rome,  is,  as  it  were,  personified  during  the  first  days 
of  the  Reformation,  ia  the  encounter  between  Luther 
aud  Prierio. 

The  Roman  censor,  prior-general  of  the  Dominicans, 
employed  to  determine  what  Christendom  must  say 
or  not  say,  and  know  or  not  know,  hastened  to  reply, 
and  published  a  tract,  which  he  dedicated  to  Leo  X. 
He  spoke  contemptuously  of  the  German  monk,  and 
declared,  with  a  self-sufficiency  altogether  Roman, 
"that  he  was  anxious  to  know  whether  this  Martin 
had  a  nose  of  iron,  or  a  head  of  brass,  ^vhich  could 
not  be  broken."  Then,  in  the  form  of  a  dialogue,  he 
attacked  the  theses  of  Luther,  employing  alternately 
ridicule,  insult,  and  threatening. 

The  combat  between  the  Augustine  of  "Wittemberg 
and  the  Dominican  of  Rome  took  place  on  the  very 
question  which  lies  at  the  foundation  of  the  Reforma- 
tion,— viz.,  •'  What  is  the  sole  infallible  authority  to 
Christians? "  The  following  is  the  system  of  the 
Church,  as  expounded  by  its  most  independent  organs. 
The  letter  of  the  written  "Word  is  dead  without  the 
spirit  of  interpretation,  which  alone  unfolds  its  hidden 
meaning.  Now,  this  spirit  is  not  granted  to  every 
Ciiristian,  but  to  the  Church ;  in  other  words,  to  the 
priests.  It  is  gi-eat  presumption  to  maintain,  that  He 
who  promised  to  be  with  His  Church  always  to  the  end 
of  thu  world,  could  abandon  it  to  the  power  of  error. 
It  will  be  said,  perhaps,  that  the  doctrine  and  consti- 
tution of  the  Ciiurch  are  not  the  same  as  wc  find  them 
in  the  sacred  oracles.  This  is  true  ;  but  the  change  is 
only  apparent,  relating  to  the  form,  aud  not  to  the 
substance.  JMoreover,  the  change  is  an  advance.  The 
living  power  of  the  Spirit  has  given  reality  to  what 
exists  in  Scripture  only  in  idea ;  it  has  embodied  the 
sketches  of  the  AVord,  put  a  finishing  hand  to  these 
sketches,  and  completed  the  work  of  which  the  Bible 
had  furnished  only  the  first  outlines.  Scripture  ought, 
therefore,  to  be  understood  in  the  sense  determined  by 
the  Church,  imder  the  guidance  of  the  Holy  Spirit. 
Here  the  Catholic  doctors  are  divided.  General 
councils,  say  some,  and  Gerson  among  the  number, 
are  the  representatives  of  the  Church.  The  pope,  says 
others,  is  the  depositary  of  the  Spirit  of  interpretation; 
and  no  man  is  entitled  to  understand  Scripture  in  a 
sense  differing  from  that  of  the  Roman  pontiff.  This 
was  the  opinion  of  Prierio. 

Such  was  the  doctrine  which  the  master  of  the  sacred 
palace  opposed  to  the  rising  Reformation.  On  the 
power  of  the  pope  and  the  Church  he  advanced  pro- 
positions at  which  the  most  shameless  flatterers  of  the 
court  of  Rome  would  have  blushed.  The  following  is 
one  of  the  points  which  he  maintains  at  the  commence- 
ment of  his  tract : — "'Wlioever  rests  not  in  the  doctrine 
of  the  Roman  Church,  and  tiie  Roman  pontiff,  as  the 
infallible  rule  of  faith,  from  which  the  Holy  Scripture 
itself  derives  its  force  aud  authority,  is  a  heretic." 
Then,  iu  a  dialogue,  in  which  Luther  and  Sylvester 
I    ai-e  the  speakers,  the  latter  tries  to  refute  the  doctor's 


propositions.  The  sentiments  of  the  Saxon  monk  were 
quite  new  to  a  Roman  censor.  Accordingly,  Prierio 
shews  that  he  understood  neither  the  emotions  of  his 
heart,  nor  the  motives  of  his  conduct.  To  the  teacher 
of  truth  he  applied  the  little  standards  of  the  valets  of 
Rome.  "  Dear  Luther!"  says  he,  "  were  you  to  receive 
a  bishopric  and  a  plenary  indulgence  for  the  repair  of 
your  Church  from  our  lord  the  pope,  you  would  proceed 
more  gently,  and  would  even  prose  in  favour  of  the 
indulgence  which  you  are  now  pleased  to  blacken !" 
The  Italian,  so  proud  of  the  elegance  of  his  manners, 
sometimes  assumes  the  most  scurrilous  tone.  "  If  the 
property  of  dogs  is  to  bite,"  says  he  to  Luther,  "  I  fear 
your  father  must  have  been  a  dog."  The  Dominican 
begins  at  last  to  be  almost  astonished  at  his  own 
condescension  in  speaking  to  a  rebellious  monk;  and 
concludes  with  shewing  his  opponent  the  cruel  teeth 
of  an  inquisitor.  "The  Roman  Church,"  says  he, 
"  having  in  the  pope  the  summit  of  spiritual  and 
temporal  power,  may,  by  the  secular  arm,  constrain 
those  who,  after  receiving  the  faith,  stray  from  it.  She 
is  not  bound  to  employ  arguments  for  the  purpose  of 
combating  and  subduing  the  rebellious." 

These  words,  traced  by  the  pen  of  one  of  the  dig- 
nitaries of  the  Roman  court,  had  a  very  significant 
meaning.  They  failed,  however,  to  terrify  Luther. 
He  believed,  or  feigned  to  believe,  that  this  dialogue 
was  not  by  Prierio,  but  by  Ulrich  von  Hutten,  or  by 
some  other  of  the  authors  of  "The  Letters  of  some 
Obscure  Men,"  who  (said  ho  in  his  sarcastic  strain)  had, 
in  order  to  stir  up  Luther  against  Prierio,  compiled 
this  mass  of  absurdity.  He  had  no  desire  to  see  the 
court  of  Rome  in  arms  against  him.  However,  after 
remaining  for  some  time  silent,  his  doubts,  if  he  had 
any,  having  been  dispelled,  he  set  to  work,  and  in  two 
days  after  was  prepared  with  his  reply. 

The  Bible  had  produced  the  Reformer  and  begun 
the  Reformation.  Luther,  in  believing,  had  no  need 
of  the  testimony  of  the  Church.  His  faith  was  derived 
from  the  Bible  itself, — from  within,  and  not  from  with- 
out. His  thorough  conviction  that  the  evangelical 
doctrine  was  immovably  founded  on  the  Word  of  God, 
made  him  regard  all  external  authority  as  useless. 
Luther's  experience,  in  this  respect,  opened  a  new 
prospect  to  the  Church.  The  living  spring  which  had 
burst  forth  before  the  monk  of  Wittemberg,  was 
destined  to  become  a  stream  at  which  nations  would 
quench  their  thirst. 

The  Church  had  said  that,  in  order  to  understand 
the  Word,  the  Spirit  of  God  must  interpret  it ;  and  so 
far  the  Church  was  right.  But  her  error  consisted  in 
regarding  the  Holy  Spirit  as  a  monoply  conferred  on  a 
certain  caste,  and  in  thinking  that  it  could  be  appro- 
priated exclusively  to  certain  assemblies  and  colleges, 
to  a  city  or  a  conclave.  "  The  wind  bloweth  where  it 
listeth,"  were  the  words  of  the  Son  of  God,  when 
speaking  of  the  Spirit  of  God ;  and,  on  another  occa- 
sion, "  They  will  all  be  taught  of  God."  The  cor- 
ruption of  the  Church,  the  ambition  of  pontiffs,  the 
animosities  of  councils,  the  squabbles  of  the  clergy,  and 
the  pomp  of  prelates,  had  made  this  Holy  Spirit — this 
breath  of  humility  and  peace — eschew  the  dwelling  of 
the  priesthood.  He  had  deserted  the  assemblies  of  the 
proud,  and  the  palaces  of  the  princes  of  the  Church, 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


and  gone  to  live  in  retirement  among  simple  Christians 
and  modest  priests.  He  had  shunned  a  domineering 
hierarchy,  which  often  forced  blood  from  the  jjoor, 
whom  it  trampled  under  foot ;  He  had  shunned  a  proud 
and  ignorant  clergy,  whose  chiefs  were  skilled,  not  in 
the  Bible,  but  in  the  sword ;  and  He  was  found  some- 
times among  despised  sects,  and  sometimes  among  men 
of  talents  and  learning.  The  holy  cloud,  withdrawing 
from  proud  basilisks  and  gorgeous  cathedrals,  had 
descended  on  the  obscure  dwellings  of  the  humble,  or 
on  chambers  where  studious  men  calmly  pursued  their 
conscientious  labours.  The  Church,  degraded  by  her 
love  of  power  and  riches,  dishonom-ed  in  the  eyes  of 
the  people  by  the  venal  use  which  she  made  of  the 
doctrine  of  life, — the  Chm-ch  which  sold  salvation  in 
order  to  fill  a  treasury,  for  luxmy  and  debauchery  to 
empty,  had  lost  all  respect.  Men  of  sense  no  longer  set 
any  value  on  her  testimony;  but,  despising  an  authority 
so  degraded,  turned  with  joy  towards  the  Divine  Word, 
and  its  infallible  authority,  as  toward  the  only  refuge 
which  remained  to  them  in  the  general  confusion. 

The  age,  therefore,  was  prepared.  The  bold  move- 
ment by  which  Luther  changed  the  point  on  which  the 
human  heart  rested  its  highest  hopes,  and  with  a 
mighty  hand  transferred  those  hopes  from  the  walls  of 
the  Vatican  to  the  rock  of  the  Word  of  God,  was 
hailed  with  enthusiasm.  This  was  the  work  which 
the  reformer  had  in  view  in  his  reply  to  Prierio. 

Putting  aside  the  axioms  whicli  the  Dominican  had 
placed  at  the  head  of  his  work,  he  says :  "  After  your 
example,  I,  too,  am  going  to  lay  down  some  axioms." 

"  The  first  is  the  saying  of  St.  Paul,  '  Should  we,  or 
an  angel  from  heaven,  preach  any  other  Gospel  unto 
you  than  that  which  we  have  preached  unto  you,  let 
him  be  accursed.' " 

The  second  is  the  following  passage  of  St.  Augustine, 
addi-essed  to  St.  Jerome :  '•  I  have  learned  to  pay  to 
the  canonical  books  alone  the  honour  of  believing  very 
firmly  that  none  of  them  has  erred ;  as  to  others,  I  be- 
lieve not  what  they  say,  for  the  simple  reason,  that 
it  is  they  who  say  it." 

Luther  then  vigorously  proceeds  to  lay  down  the  fun- 
damental principles  of  the  Eeformation, — the  Word  of 
God,  the  v'hole  Word  of  God,  and  nothing  but  the  Word  of 
God.  "  If  you  understand  these  principles,"  continues 
he,  "  you  will  also  understand  that  your  whole  dialogue 
is  completely  overturned ;  for  you  have  done  nothing 
else  than  adduce  the  words  and  opinions  of  St.  Thomas." 
Next,  attacking  the  axioms  of  his  opponent,  he  frankly 
declares  his  opinion  that  popes  and  councils  may  err. 
He  complains  of  the  flattery  of  the  Roman  courtiers,  in 
attributing  to  the  pope  the  alleged  infallibility  of  both 
popes  and  councils,  and  declares  that  the  Church  exists 
virtually  only  in  Christ,  and  representatively  only  in 
councils.  Coming  afterwords  to  the  supposition  which 
Prierio  had  made,  he  says:  "No  doubt  you  judge  me 
by  yourself ;  but  if  I  aspired  to  a  bishopric,  assuredly 
I  would  not  use  language  which  sounds  so  hateful  in 
your  ears.  Do  you  imagine  I  am  ignorant  how  bishop- 
rics and  the  popedom  are  procured  at  Rome  ?  Do  not 
the  very  children  in  the  streets  sing  the  well-known 
words. — 


This  was  among  the  stanzas  current  in  Rome  before 
the  election  of  one  of  the  last  popes.  Nevertheless, 
Luther  speaks  of  Leo  with  respect.  "I  know,"  says 
he,  "that  in  him  we  have,  as  it  were,  a  Daniel  in 
Babylon ;  his  integrity  has  repeatedly  endangered  his 
life."  He  concludes  with  a  few  words  in  reply  to  the 
menaces  of  Prierio  :  "  In  fine,  you  say  that  the  pope  is 
at  once  pontiff  and  emperor,  and  that  he  has  power  to 
constrain  by  the  secular  ai'm.  Are  you  thirsting  for 
murder  ?  Take  my  word  for  it,  your  rhodomontades 
and  your  loud-sounding  threats  cannot  terrify  me. 
Though  I  be  killed,  Christ  lives — Christ  my  Lord,  and 
the  Lord  of  all,  blessed  for  ever  and  ever.     Amen." 

Thus  Luther,  with  a  strong  arm,  assails  the  infidel 
altar  of  the  papacy,  opposing  to  it  the  altar  of  the 
Word  of  God,  alone  holy,  alone  infallible,  before  which 
he  would  have  every  knee  to  bow,  and  on  which  he 
declares  himself  ready  to  sacrifice  his  life. 

Prierio  published  a  reply,  and  after  it  a  third  treatise 
on  "  The  Irrefrag.able  Truth  of  the  Church  and  of  the 
Roman  Pontiff,"  in  which,  founding  on  ecclesiastical 
law,  he  says,  that  though  the  pope  were  to  send  the 
people  and  himself  to  the  devil,  en  masse,  he  could  not 
for  so  doing  be  either  judged  or  deposed.  The  pope 
was  at  length  obliged  to  impose  silence  on  Prierio. 

A  new  opponent  soon  entered  the  list.  He,  too, 
was  a  Dominican.  James  Hochstraten,  inquisitor  at 
Cologne,  whom  we  have  already  seen  assailing  Reuch- 
lin  and  the  friends  of  letters,  was  furious  when  he  saw 
Luther's  boldness.  It  was  indeed  necessary  that  dark- 
ness and  monkish  fanaticism  should  engage  in  close 
fight  with  him  who  was  to  give  them  their  death-blow. 
Monkism  was  formed  after  primitive  truth  had  begun 
to  decay,  and  from  that  period  downward,  errors  and 
monks  had  gone  hand-iu-hand.  The  man  who  was  to 
hasten  their  ruin  had  appeared ;  but  these  sturdy  cham- 
pions would  not  quit  the  field  without  a  fierce  combat. 
This  combat  they  continued  to  wage  with  him  through- 
out his  whole  life,  thougli  the  proper  personification  of 
it  is  in  Hochstraten;  Hochstraten  and  Luther — the  one, 
the  free  and  intrepid  Christian,  and  the  other,  the 
blustering  slave  of  monkish  superstition.  Hochstraten 
unchains  his  rage,  and,  with  loud  cries,  demands  the 
death  of  the  heretic.  .  .  .  His  wish  is  to  secure 
the  triumph  of  Rome  by  means  of  the  flames.  "It  is 
high  treason  against  the  Church,"  exclaims  he,  "  to  let 
so  execrable  a  heretic  live  another  single  hour.  Let  a 
scaffold  be  instantly  erected  for  him  !"  This  sanguinary 
counsel  was,  alas !  but  too  well  foUowed  in  many  coun- 
tries ;  the  voice  of  numerous  martyrs,  as  in  the  first  days 
of  the  Church,  bore  testimony  to  the  truth  in  the  midst 
of  the  flames.  But  in  vain  were  fire  and  sword  in- 
voked against  Luther.  The  angel  of  Jehovah  con- 
stantly encamped  around  him  and  shielded  him. 

Luther  replied  to  Hochstraten  briefly,  but  very  ener- 
getically. "  Go,"  says  he  to  him,  when  concluding," go, 
delirious  murderer,  whose  thirst  can  only  be  quenched  | 
by  the  blood  of  the  brethren.  My  sincere  desire  is, 
that  you  guard  against  calling  me  a  Christian  and  a 
believer ;  and  tha^  on  the  contrary,  you  never  cease  to 
denounce  me  as  a  heretic.  Understand  these  things 
well,  you  bloody  man,  you  enemy  of  the  truth ;  and  if  I 
your  furious  rage  impel  you  to  devise  mischief  against 
me,  do  it  with  circumspection,  and  time  your  measures 


THE  OBELISKS  AND  THE  ASTERISKS. 


■well.  God  knows  what  I  purpose  if  He  grants  me  life. 
My  hope  and  expectation  (God  willing)  will  not  deceive 
me."     Hochstraten  was  silent. 

A  more  painful  attack  awaited  the  reformer.  Dr. 
Eck,  the  celebrated  professor  of  Ingolstadt,  who  pro- 
cured the  liberty  of  Urban  Regius,  Luther's  friend, 
had  received  the  famous  theses.  Eck  was  not  the  man 
to  defend  the  abuses  of  indulgences;  but  he  was  a 
doctor  of  the  school,  and  not  of  the  Bible,  being  well 
versant  in  scholastics,  but  not  in  the  AVord  of  God.  If 
Prierio  had  represented  Rome,  and  Hochstraten  had 
represented  the  monk.s,  Eck  represented  the  school. 
The  school  which,  for  about  five  centuries,  had  ruled 
Christendom,  far  from  yielding  to  the  first  blows  of 
the  reformer,  proudly  rose  up  to  crush  the  man  who 
dared  to  assail  it  with  floods  of  contempt.  Eck  and 
Luther,  the  school  and  the  "Word,  came  to  blows  on 
more  than  one  occasion ;  but  the  present  was  the  occa- 
sion on  which  the  combat  commenced. 

Eck  must  have  regarded  several  of  Luther's  asser- 
tions as  erroneous;  for  nothing  obliges  us  to  question 
the  sincerity  of  his  convictions.  He  defended  the 
scholastic  opinions  with  enthusiasm,  just  as  Luther 
defended  the  declarations  of  the  AVord  of  God.  AVe 
may  even  suppose  that  he  was  somewhat  pained  at 
seeing  himself  obliged  to  oppose  his  old  friend,  and  yet 
it  would  seem,  from  the  mode  of  attack,  that  passion 
and  jealousy  had  some  share  in  his  determination. 

He  gave  the  name  of  "  Obelisks"  to  his  remarks  on  the 

theses  of  Luther.    AA^ishing  at  first  to  save  appearances, 

he  did  not  publish   his  work,  but  contented  himself 

with  conmiunicating  it  confidentially  to  his  ordinary, 

the  Bishop   of    Eichstiidt.      Soon,   however,  whether 

I    through  the  indiscretion  of  the  bishop,  or  of  Eck  him- 

I    self,  the  '-Obelisks"  were  circulated  in  all  quarters.    A 

i    copy  having  fallen  into  the  hands  of  a  friend  of  Luther, 

1    Link,  preacher  at  Nuremberg,  he  lost  no  time  in  sending 

I    it  to  the  reformer.     Eck  was  a  nuich  more  formidable 

opponent  than  Tetzel,  Prierio,  and  Hochstraten;   his 

I    work  was  the  more  dangerous  the  more  it  surpassed 

I    theirs  in  knowledge  and  subtlety.     He  affected  pity  for 

j    his  '•  feeble  opponent,"  (knowing  well  that  pity  injures 

I    more  effectually  than  anger.)  and  insinuated  that  the 

I    propositions  of  Luther  contained  Bohemian  poison,  and 

I    savoured  of  Bohemia.    By  these  malicious  insinuations 

I    he  threw  upon  Luther  the  obloquy  and  hatred  which 

I    in  Germany  attached  to  the  name  of  Huss  and  the 

;    schismatics  of  his  country. 

;        The  malice  which  shone  through  this  treatise  roused 

j    Luther's  indignation,  while  the  thought  that  the  blow 

I    was  given  by  an  old  friend,  was  still  more  distressing. 

I    However,  he  must  sacrifice  his  affections  in  defending 

the  truth.     Luther  unbosomed  his  heart  and  its  sadness 

I    in  a  letter  to  Egranus,  pastor  at  Zwickau:    "I  am 

'    called  in  the  '  Obelisks'  a  venomous  man,  a  Bohemian,  a 

I    heretic,  seditious,  insolent,  and  presumptuous.     .     .     . 

j    I  say  nothing   of    milder   epithets,    such   as   sleepy, 

imbecile,  ignorant,  contemner  of  the  sovereign  pontiff, 

I    &c.     This  book  is  full  of  the  grossest  insults;  and  yet 

1    the  author  is  a  distinguished  man,  alike  remarkable  for 

learning  and  talent;    and  (it  is  this  that  grieves  me 

most)  a  man  with  whom  1  had  recently  contracted  a 

close  friendship,— viz.,  John  Eck,  doctor  in  theology, 

and  chancellor  of  Ingolstadt,  a  celebrated  and  illustrious 


author.  Did  I  not  know  the  thoughts  of  Satan,  I 
would  bo  astonished  at  the  furious  manner  in  which 
this  man  has  broken  off  a  fi-iendship  at  once  so  pleasant 
and  so  recent;  and  this  without  giving  me  any  warn- 
ing— without  writing  or  saying  a  single  word." 

But  if  Luther's  heart  be  wounded,  his  courage  is 
not  destroyed.  On  the  contrary  he  girds  himself  for  the 
combat.  '•  Rejoice,  my  brother,"  says  he  to  Egranus, 
whom  a  violent  enemy  had  also  attacked, — "  rejoice, 
and  be  not  alarmed  at  all  these  flying  leaves.  The 
more  furious  my  adversaries  become,  the  more  I 
advance.  I  leave  the  things  which  are  behind,  that 
they  may  bark  after  them,  and  follow  those  which  are 
before,  that  they  may,  in  like  manner,  bark  after  them 
in  their  turn." 

Eck  felt  how  shameful  his  conduct  had  been,  and 
endeavoured  to  justify  it  in  a  letter  to  Carlstadt,  in 
which  he  calls  Luther  "  their  common  friend ; "  and 
throws  all  the  blame  on  the  Bishop  of  Eichstiidt,  at 
whose  instigation  he  pretended  that  he  had  written  the 
work.  His  intention,  he  said,  was  not  to  publish  the 
"  Obelisks ;"  but  for  this  he  would  have  had  more  regard 
for  the  friendship  subsisting  between  him  and  Luther; 
and  he  requested  that  Lutlicr,  instead  of  coming  to 
open  rupture  with  him,  would  turn  his  arms  against  the 
theologians  of  Frankfort.  The  Professor  of  Ingolstadt, 
who  had  not  feared  to  strike  the  first  blow,  began  to 
be  alarmed  at  the  power  of  the  opponent  whom  he  had 
imprudently  attacked,  and  would  willingly  have  evaded 
the  contest.     It  was  too  late. 

AH  these  fine  words  did  not  persuade  Luther,  who 
was,  however,  disposed  to  be  silent,  and  said,  "  I  will 
patiently  swallow  this  morsel,  though  fit  for  Cerberus." 
But  his  friends  were  of  a  different  opinion,  and  urged, 
or  rather  constrained  him  to  answer.  He,  accordingly, 
replied  to  the  '"Obelisks"  by  his  "Asterisks,"  opposing 
(as  he  says,  playing  upon  the  word)  to  the  rust  and 
lividity  of  obelisks  the  light  and  dazzling  brightness 
of  the  stars  of  heaven.  In  this  work  he  treats  his  new 
opponent  less  harshly  than  those  whom  he  had  pre- 
viously combated;  but  his  indignation  is  seen  peeping 
through  his  words. 

He  shewed  that  in  the  chaos  of  the  "  Obelisks  "  there 
was  nothing  from  the  Holy  Scriptures,  nothing  from 
the  Fathers  of  the  Church,  and  nothing  from  the  eccle- 
siastical canons, — that  they  contained  only  scholastic 
glosses,  and  opinion  after  opinion,  many  of  them  mere 
dreams ;  in  a  word,  contained  the  very  things  which 
Luther  had  attacked.  The  "Asterisks"  are  full  of  spirit 
and  life.  The  author's  indignation  rises  at  the  errors 
of  his  friend's  book ;  but  he  shews  pity  to  the  man. 
He  reiterates  the  fundamental  principle  which  he  had 
laid  down  in  his  reply  to  Prierio :  "  The  sovereign 
pontiff  is  a  man,  and  may  be  led  into  error ;  but  God 
is  truth,  and  cannot  be  deceived."  Then,  employing 
the  art/umciitum  ad  Iwmincm  against  the  scholastic  doc- 
tor, he  says  to  him,  "  It  is  certainly  impudent  in  any 
one  to  teach,  as  the  philosophy  of  Aristotle,  any  dogma 
which  cannot  be  proved  by  his  authority.  You  gi-ant 
this.  AVell,  then,  it  is,  a  fortiori,  the  most  impudent  of 
all  things  to  affirm  in  the  Church,  and  among  Christians, 
anything  that  Jesus  Christ  himself  has  not  taught. 
Now,  in  what  part  of  the  Bible  is  it  said  that  the  trea- 
sure of  Christ's  merits  is  in  the  hands  of  the  pope  ? " 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


He  adds :  "As  to  the  malicious  charge  of  Bohemian 
heresy,  I  patiently  bear  the  reproach  for  the  love  of 
Jesus  Christ.  I  live  in  a  celebrated  university,  a  distin- 
guished town,  an  important  bishopric,  and  a  powerful 
duchy,  where  aU  are  orthodox,  and  where,  doubtless, 
no  toleration  would  be  given  to  so  wicked  a  heretic." 

Luther  did  not  publish  the  "Asterisks,"  he  only 
communicated  them  to  his  friends.  It  was  not  till  a 
later  period  that  they  were  given  to  the  public. 

This  rupture  between  the  doctor  of  lugolstadt  and 
the  doctor  of  Wittemberg  made  a  sensation  in  Ger- 
many. They  had  common  friends.  Scheurl,  in  parti- 
cular, by  whose  instrumentality  their  friendship  appears 
to  have  been  originally  formed,  was  exceedingly  an- 
noyed. He  was  one  of  those  who  longed  to  see  a 
reform  throughout  the  whole  Germanic  Church,  pro- 
duced through  the  medium  of  its  most  distinguished 
organs.  But  if  in  matters  of  principle  the  most  eminent 
theologians  of  the  period  came  to  open  rupture,  and 


■\\lule  Lutliei  alvauced  m  %  new  path,  Eck  put  hmi- 
self  at  the  head  of  those  who  kept  to  the  old  path,  ■v\  hat 
disruption  must  inevitably  ensue  ?  Would  not  nume- 
rous adherents  gather  around  each  of  the  two  chiefs, 
and  form  two  hostile  camps  in  the  heart  of  the 
empire  ? 

Scheurl  exerted  himself  to  reconcile  Eck  and  Luther. 
The  latter  declared  that  he  was  willing  to  forget  every- 
thing; that  he  loved  the  genius,  and  admired  the  erudi- 
tion of  Dr.  Eck,  and  that  the  proceedings  of  his  old 
friend  had  caused  him  more  grief  than  anger.  "I  am 
ready,"  says  he,  "  either  for  peace  or  war ;  but  I  prefer 
peace.  Do  you  then  set  about  it.  Grieve  with  us, 
that  the  devil  has  thro-vvn  among  us  this  beginning  of 
strife,  and  then  rejoice  that  Christ  in  His  mercy  hath 
removed  it."  About  the  same  time  he  addi-essed  a 
most  friendly  letter  to  Eck,  who,  however,  not  only 
did  not  answer  it,  but  did  not  even  send  him  a  verbal 
message.  It  was  too  late  for  reconciliation  ;  and  the 
breach  became  wider  and  wider.  The  pride  of  Eck, 
and  his  unforgiving  temper,  soon  completely  broke  any 
remaining  ties  of  friendship. 


CHAPTER  X. 

ropul.ir  Writings— Our  Father— Thy  Kingdom  Come— Thy  Will  be  Done— 
Our  Daily  Bread— Sermon  on  Repentance— Forgiveness  through  Christ 

Such  were  the  struggles  which  the  champion  of  the 
Word  of  God  had  to  maintain  at  the  outset  of  his 
career.  But  these  combats  with  the  leaders  of  society, 
these  academical  disputes,  are  of  small  account  with 
the  Christian.  Human  doctors  imagine  they  have 
gained  the  noblest  of  triumphs  if  they  succeed  in  filling 
some  newspapers  and  some  saloons  with  the  noise  of 
their  systems.  As  it  is  with  them  more  an  affair  of 
self-love,  or  party  spirit,  than  of  good  to  humanity, 
this  worldly  success  satisfies  them.  Accordingly,  their 
labours  are  only  a  smoke,  which,  after  blinding  us, 
passes  off  and  leaves  no  trace  behind.  Neglecting  to 
introduce  their  fire  among  the  masses  of  the  popula- 
tion, they  do  nothing  more  than  make  it  skim  along 
the  surface  of  society. 

It  is  not  so  with  the  Cliristian.  His  object  is  not 
success  in  a  coterie,  or  an  academy,  but  the  salvation 
of  souls.  He,  therefore,  willingly  avoids  the  brilliant 
skumishing  which  he  might  carry  on  at  his  ease  with 
the  champions  of  the  world,  and  prefers  the  obscure 
labours  which  carry  life  and  light  into  rural  cottages, 
ind  the  lanes  of  cities.  Thus  did  Luther,  or  rather, 
according  to  the  precept  of  his  Master,  he  did  the  one, 
uithoutleaviiii/  the  other  undone.  AVliile  combating  in- 
quisitors, university  chancellors,  and  masters  of  the 
sacied  palace,  he  strove  to  diffuse  sound  religious 
knowledge  among  the  multitude.  With  that  view,  he 
at  this  time  published  different  popular  writings,  such 
IS  his  "  Discourses  on  the  Ten  Commandments,"  de- 
ivered  two  years  before  in  the  church  of  Wittemberg, 
and  which  we  have  already  noticed ;  and  his  "  Exposi- 
tion of  the  Lord's  Prayer,  for  simple  and  ignorant  lay- 
men "  Wlio  would  not  like  to  know  how  the  reformer 
then  addressed  the  people  ? 

We  will  quote  some  of  the  words  which  he  sent,  as 
he  says,  in  the  preface  to  the  second  of  these  works, 

to  course  the  country." 

Prayer,  that  inward  act  of  the  heart,  will  doubtless 
ever  be  one  of  the  points  with  which  a  reformation  in 
heart  and  life  must  commence,  and,  accordingly,  it 
early  engaged  the  attention  of  Luther.  It  is  impossible, 
in  a  translation,  to  keep  up  his  energetic  style,  and  the 
vigour  of  a  language  which  was  formed,  so  to  speak,  as 
it  fell  from  his  pen ;  however,  we  wiU  try. 

"When  you  pray,"  says  he,  "have  few  words,  but 
many  thoughts  and  affections,  and,  above  all,  let  these 
be  profound.  The  less  you  speak  the  better  you  pray. 
Few  words  and  many  thoughts  make  the  Christian; 
many  words  and  few  thoughts,  the  pagan. 

"  Seeming  and  bodily  prayer  is  that  muttering  of 
the  lips,  that  external  babble,  which  comes  forth  with- 
out attention,  striking  the  eyes  and  ears  of  men;  but 
prayer  in  spirit  and  in  truth  is  the  inward  desire,  the 
emotions,  and  sighs  which  proceed  from  the  depths  of 
the  heart.  The  former  is  the  prayer  of  hypocrites,  and 
of  all  who  trust  in  themselves ;  the  latter  is  the  prayer 
of  the  children  of  God,  who  walk  in  His  fear." 


THE  LORD'S  PRAYER. 


Then  coming  to  the  first  words  of  our  Lord's  Prayer, 
"Our  Father,"  he  thus  expresses  himself: — "Among 
all  the  names  of  God  there  is  none  whicli  inclines  more 
toward  him  than  the  name  of  Father.  We  should  not 
have  so  much  happiness  and  consolation  in  calling  him 
Lord,  or  God,  or  Judge.  ...  By  this  name  of 
father  His  bowels  of  compassion  are  moved;  for  there 
is  no  voice  more  lovely  or  touching  than  that  of  a  child 
to  its  father. 

"  U'lio  art  in  heaven. — He  who  confesses  that  he  has 
a  Father  in  heaven,  owns  himself  to  be,  as  it  were,  an 
orphan  on  the  earth.  Hence  his  heart  feels  an  ardent 
desire  like  that  of  a  child  living  out  of  its  father's 
country,  among  strangers,  in  wretchedness  and  sorrow. 
It  is  as  if  he  said,  'Alas!  my  Father!  thou  art  in 
heaven,  and  I,  thy  miserable  child,  am  on  the  earth, 
far  from  thee,  in  all  sorts  of  dangers,  necessities,  and 
sorrows.' 

^^ Hallowed  be  Thy  name'. — He  who  is  passionate  and 
envious,  who  curses  or  slanders,  dishonours  God,  in 
whose  name  he  was  baptized.  Applying  the  vessel 
which  God  has  consecrated  to  profane  uses,  he  resem- 
bles a  priest  who  should  use  the  holy  cup  to  give  drink 
to  a  sow,  or  to  gather  manure. 

"  Thy  Idnr/dom  come. — Those  who  amass  wealth,  who 
erect  magnificent  buildings,  who  seek  after  all  that  the 
world  can  give,  and  with  the  lips  repeat  this  prayer, 
are  like  the  large  pipes  of  a  church  organ,  which 
sounds  and  cries  at  full  pitch,  and  without  ceasing,  but 
has  neither  words,  nor  sense,  nor  reason."     .     .     . 

Further  on,  Luther  attacks  the  error  of  pilgrimages, 
which  was  then  so  general.  "  One  goes  to  Rome, 
another  to  St.  James;  one  builds  a  chapel,  another 
founds  an  endowment,  in  order  to  reach  the  kingdom 
of  God;  but  all  neglect  the  essential  point,  which  is 
to  become  themselves  His  kingdom.  Why  do  you  go 
beyond  seas  in  quest  of  the  kingdom  of  God  ?  .  .  . 
Your  heart  is  the  place  in  which  it  ought  to  rise. 

"It  is  a  dreadful  thing,"  continues  he,  "to  hear  us 
utter  this  prayer,  '  Thy  will  be  done.'  Where  in  the 
Church  do  we  see  this  will  done  ?  .  .  .  Bishop  rises 
against  bishop,  and  church  against  church.  Priests, 
monks,  and  nuns,  quarrel  and  fight;  throughout  there 
is  nothing  but  discord.  And  yet  all  parties  exclaim 
that  they  have  a  good  will  and  an  upright  intention ; 
and  so  to  the  honour  and  glory  of  God  they  altogether 
do  the  work  of  the  devil.     .     .     . 

"Why  do  we  say.  Our  bread!"  continues  he,  explain- 
ing these  words,  "  Give  us  this  day  our  daily  bread." 
"  Because  we  pray,  not  for  the  ordinary  bread  which 
pagans  eat,  and  which  God  gives  to  all  men,  but  for  our 
bread — bread  to  us,  children  of  the  heavenly  Father. 

"And  what,  then,  is  this  bread  of  God? — It  is 
Jesus  Christ  our  Lord :  '  I  am  the  liviny  bread  ivhich 
came  down  from  heaven,  and  give  life  to  the  world.' 
Wherefore  let  us  not  deceive  ourselves.  Sermons  and 
instructions  which  do  not  represent  to  us,  or  give  us 
the  knowledge  of  Jesus  Christ,  cannot  be  the  daily 
bread  and  food  of  our  souls.     .     .     . 

"  What  avails  it  that  such  a  bread  is  prepared  for  us, 
if  it  is  not  served  out  to  us,  and  we  cannot  taste  it  ? 
•  •  .  It  is  as  if  a  magnificent  feast  were  prepared, 
and  there  were  nobody  to  hand  the  bread,  bring  the 
dishes,  and  pour  out  the  liquor;  so  that  the  guests 


would  be  left  to  feed  by  the  eye  and  the  smell.     .     . 
This  is  the  reason  why  it  is  necessary  to  preach  Christ, 
and  Christ  alone. 

"  But  what,  then,  you  ask,  is  it  to  know  Jesus  Christ, 
and  what  profit  is  gained  by  it  ?  Answer :  To  learn 
to  know  Jesus  Christ,  is  to  comprehend  what  the 
apostle  says  :  '  Christ  has  of  God  been  made  unto  vs  wis- 
dom, and  righteousness,  and  sanctification,  and  redemp- 
tion.' Now,  you  comprehend  this  when  you  perceive 
that  your  wisdom  is  culpable  folly,  your  righteousness 
damnable  iniquity,  your  holiness  damnable  pollution, 
your  redemption  miserable  condemnation — ^when  you 


feel  that,  before  God  and  all  the  creatures,  you  are 
truly  a  fool,  a  sinner,  an  impure  and  condemned  man, 
— and  when  you  shew,  not  only  by  your  words,  but 
from  the  bottom  of  your  heart,  and  by  your  works, 
that  there  remains  to  you  no  comfort  and  no  salvation, 
save  Jesus  Christ.  To  believe  is  nothing  else  than  to 
eat  this  bread  of  heaven." 

Thus  Luther  faithfully  fulfilled  his  resolution  to  open 
the  eyes  of  a  people  whom  priests  had  blindfolded,  and 
were  leading  at  their  pleasure.  His  writings,  which  in 
a  short  time  spread  over  aU  Germany,  caused  new 
light  to  arise,  and  shed  the  seeds  of  truth  in  abundance 
on  a  soil  well  prepared  to  receive  it.  But  while  think- 
ing of  those  at  a  distance,  he  did  not  forget  those  who 
were  near. 

The  Dominicans,  from  their  pulpits,  denounced  him 
as  an  infamous  heretic.  Luther,  the  man  of  the  people, 
and  who,  had  he  been  so  disposed,  could  with  a  few 
sentences  have  set  them  in  commotion,  always  dis- 
dained such  triumphs,  and  made  it  his  sole  aim  to  in- 
struct his  hearers. 

His  reputation,  which  was  continually  extending, 
and  the  courage  with  which  he  raised  the  banner  of 
Christ  in  the  midst  of  an  enslaved  Church,  made  his 
sermons  be  followed  with  increasing  interest.     Never 


93 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


had  the  confluence  been  so  great.  Luther  went  straight 
to  the  point.  One  clay,  having  mounted  the  pulpit  of 
Witteuiberg,  he  undertook  to  establish  the  doctrine  of 
repentance.  The  discourse  pronounced  on  this  occa- 
sion afterwards  became  very  celebrated,  and  contains 
several  of  the  fundamental  principles  of  evangelical 
doctrine. 

At  first  he  contrasts  the  pardon  of  men  with  the  par- 
don of  heaven.  "  There  are,"  says  he,  "  two  remissions 
— the  remission  of  the  penalty,  and  the  remission  of 
the  fault.  The  former  reconciles  man  externally  with 
the  Church ;  the  latter,  which  is  the  heavenly  indul- 
gence, reconciles  man  with  God.  If  a  man  has  not 
within  himself  that  tranquil  conscience,  that  cheerful 
heai-t,  which  God's  remission  gives,  no  indulgence  can 
aid  him,  were  he  to  buy  all  that  ever  have  been  on  the 
earth." 

He  afterwards  continues  thus, — "  They  wish  to  do  i 
good  works  before  their  sins  are  pardoned,  whereas  ' 
sins  must  be  pardoned  before  good  works  can  be  done. 
Works  do  not  banish  sin ;  but  banish  sin,  and  you  will 
have  works.  Good  works  should  be  done  with  a  cheer- 
ful heart  and  a  good  conscience  toward  God ;  in  other 
words,  with  the  forgiveness  of  sins." 

He  then  comes  to  the  principal  object  of  his  sermon 
— an  object  which  was  identified  with  that  of  the 
whole  Reformation.  The  Church  had  put  herself  in 
the  place  of  God  and  His  Word ;  he  objects  to  this, 
and  makes  everything  depend  on  faith  in  the  Word. 

"  The  remission  of  the  fault,"  says  he,  "  is  not  in  the 
power  of  the  pope,  or  the  bishop,  or  the  priest,  or  any 
man  whatever  ;  but  rests  solely  on  the  Word  of  Christ, 
and  your  own  faith.  For  Christ  did  not  choose  to 
build  our  comfort  or  our  salvation  on  a  word  or  work 
of  man ;  but  only  on  himself,  ou  His  own  work  and 
Word.  Your  repentance  and  your  works  may  deceive 
you,  but  Christ  yom-  God  will  never  deceive,  will  never 
waver ;  and  the  devil  cannot  overthrow  His  words." 

"  A  pope  or  a  bishop  has  no  more  power  than  the 
humblest  priest,  where  the  remission  of  the  fault  is  in 
question.  And  even  where  there  is  no  priest,  each 
Christian,  were  it  a  woman  or  a  child,  can  do  the  same 
thing.  For  if  a  simple  Christian  says  to  you,  '  God 
pardons  sin  in  the  name  of  Jesus  Clirist,'  and  you  re- 
ceive tlie  saying  with  firm  faith,  as  if  God  himself  had 
spoken,  you  are  acquitted. 

"  If  you  believe  not  that  your  sins  are  pardoned,  you 
make  your  God  a  liar,  and  declare  that  you  put  greater 
confidence  in  your  vain  thoughts  than  in  God  and  His 
Word. 

"  Under  the  Old  Testament,  neither  priest,  nor  king, 
nor  prophet,  had  power  to  proclaim  the  forgiveness  of 
sins ;  but  under  the  New  Testament  every  believer  has 
this  power.  The  Church  is  quite  replete  with  the 
remission  of  sins.  If  a  pious  Christian  comforts  your 
conscience  by  the  word  of  the  cross, — be  it  man  or 
woman,  young  or  old, — receive  the  comfort  with  a  faith 
so  firm,  that  you  would  sooner  submit  to  many  deaths 
than  doubt  that  it  is  ratified  in  the  presence  of  God. 
.  .  .  Repent,  and  do  all  the  works  that  you  can  do  ; 
but  let  the  faith  which  you  have  in  the  pardon  of  Jesus 
Christ  stand  in  the  front  rank,  and  have  sole  command 
on  the  field  of  battle." 

Thus  spoke  Luther  to  his  astonished  and  enraptured 


hearers.  All  the  scaffoldings  which  impudent  priests 
had,  for  their  own  profit,  reared  between  God  and  the 
soul  of  man,  were  thrown  down,  and  man  brought  face 
to  face  with  his  Maker.  The  word  of  pardon  came 
down  pure  from  on  high,  without  passing  through  a 
thousand  corrupting  channels.  It  was  no  longer  neces- 
sary that  the  testimony  of  God,  in  order  to  be  available, 
should  previously  be  stamped  by  men  with  their  false 
seal.  The  monopoly  of  the  sacerdotal  caste  was 
abolished,  and  the  Church  emaucipated. 


CHAPTER  XL 

Apprehensions  of  Luther's  Friends — Journey  to  Heidelberg— Blbra— The 
Palatine  Castle— Eupture— The  Paradoxes— Dispute— The  llearers— 
Bueer — Brentz — Snepf^Conversations  with  Luther — Labours  of  the 
Toung  Doctors -Effects  on  Luther— The  Old  Professor— The  True  Light 


Meanwhile  the  fire  which  had  been  kindled  at  Wittem- 
berg  behoved  to  be  kindled  elsewhere.  Luther,  not 
contented  with  announcing  the  truth  in  the  place  of 
his  residence,  whether  to  the  academic  youth  or  to  the 
people,  was  desirous  to  shed  the  seeds  of  sound  doctrine 
in  other  places.  The  Augustine  order  were  to  hold 
their  general  chapter  at  Heidelberg,  in  the  spring  of 
1518.  Luther,  as  one  of  the  most  distinguished  men 
of  the  order,  was  invited  to  attend ;  but  his  friends  did 
all  they  could  to  dissuade  him  from  undertaking  the 
journey.  In  fact,  the  monks  had  laboured  to  render 
the  name  of  Luther  odious  in  all  the  places  through 
which  he  had  to  pass.  To  insult  they  had  added 
threatening ;  and  a  small  matter  might  have  sufficed  to 
excite  a  popular  tumult,  of  which  he  might  have  been 
made  the  victim.  "  Or  even,"  said  his  friends,  "what 
they  may  not  dare  to  do  by  violence,  they  will  accom- 
plish by  fraud  and  stratagem."  But  in  the  discharge 
of  a  duty,  Luther  did  not  allow  himself  to  be  arrested 
by  the  fear  of  any  danger,  however  imminent.  He 
therefore  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  the  timid  suggestions  of 
his  friends,  and  directed  them  to  Him  in  whom  his 
confidence  was  placed,  and  under  whose  protection  he 
desired  to  undertake  tlie  perilous  journey.  After  the 
feast  of  Easter  he  quietly  set  out  on  foot,  on  the  13th 
April,  1518. 

He  had  with  him  a  guide  named  Urban,  who  carried 
his  small  bundle,  and  was  to  accompany  him  as  far  as 
Wurzburg.  How  many  thoughts  must  have  occupied 
the  heart  of  the  servant  of  the  Lord  during  this 
journey!  At  Weissenfels,  the  pastor,  though  not  of 
his  acquaintance,  instantly  recognized  him  as  the  doctor 
of  Wittemberg,  and  gave  him  a  hearty  reception.  At 
Ei-furt,  he  was  joined  by  two  other  Augustine  friars. 
At  Judenbach,  the  three  fell  in  with  Degenhard 
Pfeffinger,  the  elector's  confidential  councillor,  who 
entertained  them  at  the  inn.  "I  have  had  the  plea- 
sure," wrote  Luther  to  Spalatin,  "  of  making  this  rich 
lord  some  shillings  poorer.  You  know  how  I  like  to 
take  every  occasion  of  making  a  hole  in  the  purses  of 
the  rich  for  the  benefit  of  the  poor,  especially  if  the 
rich  are  my  friends."     He  arrived  at  Cobui-g  worn  out 


THE  PARADOXES. 


with  fatigue.  "  All  goes  well  by  the  grace  of  God," 
wrote  ho;  "only,  I  confess  I  have  sinned  in  undertaking 
tiie  journey  on  foot.  But  for  this  siu  I  presume  I  will 
liave  no  need  of  the  remission  of  indulgences,  for  my 
contrition  is  perfect,  and  my  satisfaction  complete.  I 
am  knocked  up  with  fatigue,  and  all  the  conveyances 
are  full.  Is  not  this  enough,  or  rather,  more  than 
enough  of  penitence,  contrition,  :uid  satisfaction.'" 

The  reformer  of  (Germany,  not  linding  a  place  in 
the  public  conveyances,  nor  any  one  who  was  willing 
to  yield  him  his"  j.lace,  was  obliged,  next  morning, 
notwithstanding  ot  his  fatigue,  humbly  to  resume  his 
journey  oil  foot.  He  arrived  at  Wurzburg  on  the 
evening  of  the  second  Sabbath  after  Easter,  and  sent 
back  his  guide. 

Bishop  Bibra,  who  had  received  the  theses  with  so 
much  delight,  lived  in  this  town,  and  Luther  liad  a 
letter  for  him  from  the  Elector  of  Saxony.  The  bishop, 
overjoyed  at  the  opportunity  of  becoming  personally 
acquainted  with  this  bold  champion  of  the  truth, 
hastened  to  invite  him  to  the  episcopal  palace.  He 
went  out  to  receive  him,  spoke  to  him  in  the  kindest 
terms,  and  oifered  to  furnish  him  with  a  guide  as  far 
as  Heidelberg.  But  at  Wiu-zburg  Luther  had  fallen 
in  with  his  two  friends,  the  vicar-geueral  Staupitz,  and 
Lange,  the  prior  of  Erfurt,  who  offered  him  a  place  in 
their  carriage.  He  therefore  thanked  Bibra  for  his 
offer,  and  next  day  the  three  friends  set  out  from 
Wurzburg.  They  travelled  thus  for  three  days,  con- 
versing together,  and  on  the  21st  April  arrived  at 
Heidelberg.  Luther  went  to  lodge  at  the  Augustine 
convent. 

The  Elector  of  Saxony  had  given  him  a  letter  to 
Count  Palatine  Wolfgang,  duke  of  Bavaria.  Luther 
repaired  to  his  magnificent  castle,  the  site  of  which  is 
still  the  admiration  of  strangers.  The  monk  of  tlie 
])lains  of  Saxony  had  a  heart  to  admire  the  position  of 
Heidelberg,  where  the  two  lovely  valleys  of  the  Rhine 
and  the  Necker  unite.  He  delivered  his  letter  to  James 
Simler,  steward  of  the  court.  Simler  having  read  it. 
said,  '"Truly  you  have  here  a  valuable  letter  of  credit." 
The  count-palatine  received  him  with  much  kindness, 
and  often  invited  him,  as  well  as  Lange  and  Staupitz, 
to  his  table.  This  friendly  reception  added  greatly  to 
Luther's  comfort.  "We  relax  and  amuse  ourselves 
with  an  agreeable  and  pleasant  chit-chat,"  says  he, 
"  eating  and  drinking,  and  surveying  all  the  magnifi- 
cence of  the  palatine  palace,  admiring  its  ornaments, 
its  armoury,  and  cuirasses ;  in  short,  everything  re- 
markable in  this  distinguished  and  truly  royal  castle." 

However,  Luther  had  other  work  to  do.  He  be- 
hoved to  work  while  it  was  day.  Transported  to  an 
university  which  exercised  great  influence  on  the  west 
and  south  of  German}',  he  was  there  to  strike  a  blow 
which  should  shake  the  churclies  of  those  countries. 
He,  accordingly,  began  to  WTite  theses  which  he  pro- 
posed to  maintain  in  a  public  discussion.  Such  dis- 
cussions were  of  ordinary  occurrence ;  but  Luther  felt, 
that  in  order  to  make  his  useful,  it  was  necessary  to 
give  it  a  peculiar  interest.  His  disposition,  moreover, 
inclined  him  to  present  the  truth  under  a  paradoxical 
form.  The  professors  of  the  university  would  not 
allow  the  discussion  to  take  place  in  their  public  hall, 
and  it  became  necessary  to  hold  it  in  a  hall  of  the 


Augustine  convent.  The  2Gth  of  April  was  the  day 
on  which  it  was  to  take  place. 

Heidelberg,  at  a  later  period,  received  the  Gospel ; 
and  even  at  this  discussion  in  the  convent,  an  observer 
might  have  augured  that  good  would  result  from  it. 

The  reputation  of  Luther  attracted  a  large  concourse 
of  hearers  ;  professors,  courtiers,  citizens,  and  students, 
crowded  to  it.  The  doctor  gave  the  name  of  '•  Para- 
doxes" to  his  theses  ;  and  it  is,  perhaps,  the  name  which 
might  still  be  applied  to  them  in  the  present  day.  It 
would  be  easy,  however,  to  translate  them  into  evident 
I)roposition3.  The  following  are  some  of  the  Para- 
doxes : — 

1.  "The  law  of  God  is  a  salutary  rule  of  life. 
Nevertheless,  it  cannot  aid  man  in  his  search  after 
righteousness ;  ou  the  contrary,  it  impedes  him. 

3.  "  Works  of  man,  how  fair  and  good  soever  they 
may  be,  are,  to  all  appearance,  only  mortal  sins. 

4.  "  Works  of  God,  how  deformed  and  bad  soever 
they  may  appear,  have  always  an  immortal  merit. 

7.  "The  works  of  the  just  themselves  would  be 
mortal  sins,  did  they  not,  through  holy  reverence  for 
the  Lord,  fear  that  their  works  woiUd  in  fact  be  mor- 
tal sins. 

9.  "  To  maintain  that  works  done  without  Christ  are 
dead,  but  not  mortal,  is  dangerous  forgetfulness  of  the 
fear  of  God. 

13.  "  Since  tlie  fall  of  man,  free  will  exists  only  in 
name,  and  when  man  does  all  that  is  possible  for  him 
to  do,  he  sins  mortally. 

16.  "A  man  who  expects  to  attain  to  grace  by  do- 
ing all  that  it  is  possible  for  him  to  do,  adds  sin  to 
sin,  and  doubles  his  guilt. 

18.  "  It  is  certain  that  man,  to  become  capable  of 
receiving  the  grace  of  Christ,  must  entirely  despair  of 
himself. 

21.  "An  honorary  theologian  calls  evil  good,  and 
good  evil ;  but  a  theologian  of  the  cross  speaks  accord- 
ing to  truth. 

22.  "  T''e  wisdom  which  teaches  man  to  know  the 
invisible  perfections  of  God  in  His  works,  inflates, 
blinds,  and  hardens  him. 

23.  "  The  law  excites  the  wrath  of  God,  kills,  curses, 
accuses,  judges,  and  condemns,  whatever  is  not  in 
Christ. 

24.  "  Still  this  wisdom  (§  22)  is  not  bad ;  and  the 
law  (§  23)  is  not  to  be  rejected ;  but  the  man  who  does 
not  study  the  knowledge  of  God  imder  the  cross, 
changes  its  good  into  evil. 

25.  "  He  is  not  justified  who  does  many  works';  but 
he  who,  -without  works,  believes  much  in  Jesus  Christ. 

2G.  "The  law  says,  Do  this!  And  what  it  com- 
mands is  never  done.  Grace  says.  Believe  in  Him ! 
and,  lo!  all  things  are  accomplished. 

28.  "The  love  of  God  finds  nothing  in  man,  but 
creates  in  liim  what  it  loves.  The  love  of  man  pro- 
ceeds from  self-love." 

Five  doctors  of  theology  attacked  these  theses.  They 
had  read  them  with  the  astonishment  which  novelty 
excites.  The  theology  seemed  to  them  very  strange. 
Yet,  according  to  Luther's  own  testimony,  they  dis- 
cussed them  with  a  courtesy  which  he  could  not  but 
esteem ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  with  foi'ce  and  discern- 
ment. 


100 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


Luther,  on  his  part,  displayed  an  admirable  mild- 
ness in  his  replies,  incomparable  patience  in  listening 
to  the  objections  of  his  opponents,  and  all  the  liveliness 
of  St.  Paul  in  solving  the  difficulties  which  were  started. 
Ilis  answers,  which  were  short,  but  replete  with  the 
AVord  of  God,  filled  all  the  hearers  with  admiration. 
"  He  very  much  resembles  Erasmus,"  said  several ; 
"but  in  one  thing  he  surpasses  him, — he  professes 
openly  what  Erasmus  is  contented  only  to  insinuate." 

The  discussion  was  drawing  to  a  close.  Luther's 
opponents  had  retired  with  honour  from  the  field  of 
battle;  the  youngest  of  them.  Doctor  George  Niger, 
alone  continuing  the  struggle  with  the  mighty  com- 
batant. Amazed  at  the  bold  propositions  of  the 
Augustine  monk,  and  feeling  utterly  at  a  loss  for 
arguments  to  refute  them,  he  exclaimed,  in  an  agitated 
tone, — "Were  our  peasants  to  hear  such  things,  they 
would  stone  you  to  death."  At  these  words  there  was 
a  general  Inuah  throughout  the  audience. 


theological  disputation.  The  first  words  of  the  re- 
former had  awakened  men's  minds ;  and  questions 
which  shortly  before  had  met  with  indifference,  were 
now  full  of  interest.  Several  countenances  gave  visible 
expression  to  tlie  new  ideas  which  the  bold  assertions 
of  the  Saxon  doctor  had  suggested  to  their  minds. 

Three  youths  in  jiarticular  were  strongly  moved. 
One  of  them,  named  Martin  Bucer,  was  a  Dominican, 
of  about  twenty-seven  years  of  age,  who,  notwitli- 
standing  of  the  prejudices  of  his  order,  seemed  unwill- 
ing to  lose  a  single  word  which  fell  from  the  doctor. 
Born  in  a  little  town  of  Alsace,  he  had  entered  a  con- 
vent at  sixteen,  and  soon  displayed  such  talents  that 
the  monks  entertained  the  highest  hopes  of  him.  "  He 
will  one  day  be  an  ornament  to  our  order,"  said  they. 
His  superiors  had  sent  him  to  Heidelberg,  that  he 
might  devote  himself  to  the  study  of  philosophy,  theo- 
logy, Greek,  and  Hebrew.  At  this  period,  Erasmus 
having  published  several  of  his  works,  Bucer  read 
them  with  avidity. 

Shortly  after,  the  first  works  of  Luther  appeared, 
and   the   Alsatian   student   hastened   to   compare  the 


reformer's  doctrine  with  the  Holy  Scriptures.  Some 
doubt  as  to  the  truth  of  the  popish  religion  arose  iu 
his  mind.  This  was  the  way  in  which  light  was 
diffused  in  those  days.  The  elector-palatine  took 
notice  of  the  young  man.  His  strong  and  sonorous 
voice,  his  pleasing  address,  liis  eloquence,  and  the 
freedom  with  which  he  attacked  prevailing  vices,  made 
him  a  distinguished  preacher.  He  was  appointed 
chaplain  to  the  court,  and  was  acting  in  this  capacity 
when  Luther's  journey  to  Heidelberg  was  announced. 
Bucer  was  greatly  delighted ;  nobody  repaired  with 
greater  eagerness  to  the  hall  of  the  Augustine  convent. 
He  had  pro\'ided  himself  with  paper,  pens,  and  ink, 
wishing  to  write  down  whatever  the  doctor  should  say. 
But  while  his  hand  was  rapidly  tracing  the  words  of 
Luther,  the  hand  of  God  was  writing  the  great  truths 
which  he  heard  in  more  ineffaceable  characters  on  his 
heart.  The  rays  of  the  doctrine  of  grace  beamed  upon 
his  soul  on  this  memorable  occasion.  The  Dominican 
WHS  unincil  over  to  Clirist. 

Not    far    from    Bucer   sat    John 
Brentz  or  Brentius,  then  about  nine- 
teen years  of  age.    Brentz,  who  was 
the  son  of  a  magistrate  of  a  town  in 
Swabia,  had,  at  thirteen,  been  en- 
rolled among  the  students  of  Heidel- 
berg.    None  of  them   shewed  such 
application.    As  soon  as  the  hour  of 
midnight    struck,    Brentz    rose   and 
commenced  his  labours.     This  prac- 
tice became  so  habitual  to  him,  that, 
during  the  rest  of  his  life,  he  could 
never  sleep  beyond  that  hour.     At  a 
later  period  he   devoted   these  still 
moments  to  meditation  on  the  Scrip- 
tures.    Brentz  was  one  of  the  first 
to  perceive  the  new  light  which  then 
rose  on  Germany,  and  he  received  it 
into  his  soul  in  the  full  love  of  it. 
He  read  the  writings  of  Luther  with 
avidity,  and  must  have  been  overjoy- 
ed at  the  prospect  of  hearing  him  per- 
sonally at  Heidelberg.    Young  Brentz  was  particularly 
struck  with  one  of  the  doctor's  propositions,  viz.,  "  Not 
he  who  does  many  works  is  justified  before  God,  but 
he  who,  without  works,  believes  much  in  Jesus  Christ." 
A  pious  woman  of  Heilbronn,  on  the  Necker,  wife 
of  a  councillor  of  that  town,  named  Snepf,  had,  after 
the  example  of  Hannah,  dedicated  her  first-born  to  the 
Lord,  earnestly  desiring  to  see  him  devote  himself  to 
theology.      The  young  man,  who  was  born  in  1495, 
made  rapid  progress  in  literature;  but  whether  from 
taste   or   ambition,   or   comj)liance    with    his   father's 
wishes,  he  devoted  himself  to  the  study  of  law.     The 
pious    mother   was   grieved   when    she    saw  her   son 
Ehrhard  following  another  course  than  that  to  which 
she  had  dedicated  him.     She  warned  and  urged  him, 
and  always  concluded  by  reminding  him  of  the  vow 
which  she  had  made  at  his  birth.     At  length,  over- 
come  by  his    mother's    perseverance,   Ehrhard  Snepf 
yielded,  and  soon  felt  such  delight  in  his  new  studies, 
that  nothing  in    the  world  could  have  diverted  him 
from  them. 

He  was  in  terms  of  intimacy  with  Bucer  and  Brentz, 


LABOURS  OF  THE  YOUNG  DOCTORS. 


and  they  remained  friends  all  their  lives  ;  "  for,"  says 
I     one  of  their  biogi'aphers,  "  friendships  founded  on  the 
I     lote  of  literature  and  virtue  are  never  extinguished." 
I     He  was  present  with  his  two  friends  at  the  Heidelberg 
I    discussion.     The  Paradoxes  and  tlie  bold  struggle  of 
I     the  Wittemberg   doctor  gave   Sncpf   a  new    impulse. 
I     Rejecting  the  vain  dogma  of   human   merit,   he    em- 
I    braced  the  doctrine  of  free  justification. 
I         The  next  day  Buccr  paid  a  visit  to  Luther.     "  I  con- 
versed with  him,"  says  he,  "  and   without  witnesses, 
I     and  had  a  most  exquisite  repast,  not  from  the  viands, 
I     but  from  the  truths  which  were  set  before  me.     AVhat- 
:     ever  objections  I  stated,  were  readily  answered  by  the 
doctor,    who    explained    everything  with    the    utmost 
clearness.     Oh !  that  I  had  time  to  write  you  more 
'    about  it."     Luther  himself  was  touched  with  the  senti- 
'    raents  of  Bucer.     "  He  is  the  only  friar  of  his  order," 
I     wrote  he  to  Spalatin,  "  who  is  in  good  faith.     He  is  a 
young  man  of  great  promise  ;  he  received  me  with  sim- 
plicity, and  conversed  with  me  with  earnestness ;  he  is 
1    deserving  of  our  confidence  and  our  love." 
'         Brentz,  Snepf,  and  others   also,   urged  by  the  new 
'     truths  which  began  to  dawn  upon  their  minds,  in  like 
'     manner  visited  Luther,  speaking  and  conferring  with 
him,  and  asking  explanations  of  anything  which  they 
might  not  have  comprehended.     The  reformer,  in  his 
'     answers,  founded  upon  the  Bible.     At  every  word  that 
fell  from  him  fresh  light  arose,  and  his  visitors  saw  a 
new  world  opening  before  them. 

After  Luther's   departure  these  noble-minded  men 

began  to  teach   at   Heidelberg.     It  was  necessary  to 

follow  out  what  the  man  of  God  had  begun,  and  not 

allow  the  torch  which  he  had  kindled  to  be  extinguished. 

The  scholars  will  speak  should  the  masters  be  silent. 

Brentz,  although  he  was  still  so  youthfid,  explained  St. 

Matthew,  at  first  in  his  own  room,   and   afterwards. 

1     when  it  could  not  contain  his  hearers,  in  the  hall  of 

!     philosophy.     The  theologians,  filled  with  envy  at  see- 

I     ing  the  great  concourse  which  he  drew  together,  were 

I     much  offended. 

i  Brentz  next  took  orders,  and  transferred  his  lectures 
I  to  the  college  of  the  Canons  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  In 
,  this  way  the  fire  which  had  already  been  kindled  in 
'  Saxony  was  kindled  also  in  Heidelberg.  The  light 
I  radiated  from  numerous  foci.  This  period  has  been 
I  designated  the  seed-time  of  the  Palatinate. 
I  But  the  fruits  of  the  Heidelberg  discussion  were  not 
confined  to  the  Palatinate.  These  bold  friends  of  the 
truth  soon  became  luminaries  in  the  Church.  They 
all  occupied  eminent  stations,  and  took  part  in  the 
I  numerous  discussions  to  which  the  Reformation  gave 
j  rise.  Strasburg,  and  at  a  later  period  England,  were 
I  indebted  to  the  labours  of  Bucer  for  a  purer  knowledge 
!  of  the  truth.  Snepf  taught  first  at  Marburg,  then  at 
jj  Stuttgard,  Tubingen,  and  Jena.  Brentz,  after  teach- 
jl  ing  at  Heidelberg,  long  continued  to  labour  at  Halle, 
I,  in  Swabia,  and  at  Tubingen.  These  three  individuals 
jl     will  again  come  before  us. 

1  This  discussion  caused  Luther  himself  to  advance. 
j  He  grew  daily  in  the  knowledge  of  the  truth.  "  I  am 
i  one  of  those,"  said  he,  "  who  have  made  progress  by 
,j  writing  and  by  instructing  others ;  and  not  one  of  those 
j  who,  from  nothing,  become  all  at  once  great  and  learned 
!     doctors." 


He  was  delighted  at  seeing  the  avidity  with  which 
youth  in  schools  received  the  growing  truth ;  and  this 
consoled  him  when  he  saw  how  deeply  the  old  doctors 
were  rooted  in  their  opinions.  '•  I  have  the  glorious 
hope,"  said  he,  "  that,  in  like  manner  as  Christ,  when 
rejected  by  the  Jews,  went  to  the  Gentiles,  we  will 
now  see  true  theology,  though  rejected  by  these  old 
men  of  vain  and  fantastical  opinions,  welcomed  by  the 
rising  generation." 

The  chapter  being  closed,  Luther  thought  of  return- 
ing to  AVittembcrg.  The  count-palatine  gave  him  a 
letter  to  the  elector,  in  which  he  said  that  "  Luther  had 
displayed  so  much  ability  in  the  discussion  as  to  reflect 
great  glory  on  the  university  of  Wittemberg."  He  was 
not  permitted  to  return  on  foot.  The  Augustines  of 
Nuremberg  conducted  him  as  far  as  Wurzburg,  aud 
from  thence  he  proceeded  to  Erfurt  with  the  friars  be- 
longing to  it.  As  soon  as  he  arrived,  he  called  on  his 
old  master,  Jodocus.  The  venerable  professor,  who 
had  been  much  concerned  and  shocked  at  the  career 
which  his  pupil  had  followed,  was  accustomed  to  put  a 
theta  (0)  before  all  Luther's  sentences, — that  being  the 
letter  which  the  Greeks  used  to  express  condemnation. 
He  had  written  to  the  young  doctor,  censuring  his  con- 
duct, and  he  was  anxious  to  answer  by  word  of  mouth. 
Not  having  been  received,  he  wrote  Jodocus :  "  The 
whole  university,  with  the  exception  of  a  single  licen- 
tiate, thinks  as  I  do.  Nay,  more,  the  prince,  the 
bishop,  several  other  prelates,  and  all  our  enlightened 
citizens,  declare,  with  one  voice,  that  hitherto  they  have 
neither  known  nor  understood  Jesus  Christ  and  His 
Gospel.  I  am  ready  to  receive  your  correction ;  aud 
though  it  should  be  harsh,  I  will  think  it  pleasant.  Un- 
bosom yom-  heart,  then,  without  fear,  disburden  your- 
self of  your  anger.  I  have  no  wish,  I  am  not  able  to  be 
angry  with  you.     God  and  my  conscience  bear  witness." 

The  aged  doctor  was  touched  by  the  sentiments  of 
his  old  pupil,  and  wished  to  see  if  there  was  no  means 
of  removing  the  condemnatory  theta.  They  had  an 
explanation ;  but  nothing  resulted  from  it.  '•  I  have  at 
least,"  said  Luther,  "  made  him  understand,  that  all 
their  sentences  are  like  the  beast  which  is  said  to  eat 
itself.  But  it  is  vain  to  speak  to  the  deaf.  The  doc- 
tors cling  obstinately  to  their  petty  distinctions,  although 
they  confess  that  they  have  nothing  to  support  them 
but  what  they  term  the  light  of  natural  reason — a  dark 
chaos  to  us  who  proclaim  no  other  light  than  Jesus 
Christ,  the  only  true  light." 

Luther  quitted  Erfurt  in  the  carriage  of  the  convent. 
He  was  thus  brought  to  Eisleben,  and  from  thence  the 
Augustines  of  the  place,  proud  of  a  doctor  who  threw 
so  much  lustre  on  their  order  and  on  their  town  which 
had  given  him  birth,  caused  him  to  be  conveyed  to 
Wittemberg  with  their  own  horses,  and  at  their  own 
expense.  All  were  desirous  to  testify  affection  and 
esteem  for  the  extraordinary  man  who  was  rising  at 
every  step. 

He  arrived  on  Saturday  after  the  Ascension.  The 
journey  had  done  him  good.  His  friends  found  him 
stronger  and  healthier  looking  than  before  his  depar- 
tiu-e,  and  were  delighted  with  all  he  told  them.  Luther 
reposed  for  some  time  from  the  fatigues  of  his  campaign 
and  the  discussion  at  Heidelberg ;  but  this  repose 
was  only  a  preparation  for  more  severe  exertions. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


BOOK    IV. 


LUTHEK  BEFORE   THE   LEGATE — MAY   TO   DECEMBER,  1518. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Repentance— The  Pope— Leo  X. — Luther  to  his  Bishop— Luther  to  the  Pope 
—Luther  to  the  Vicar-General— Rovere  to  the  Elector— Discoui'se  on 
Excommunication— Influence  and  Power  of  Luther. 

Truth  had  at  length  raised  her  head  in  the  bosom  of 
Christendom.  Victorious  over  the  inferior  organs  of 
the  papacy,  she  behoved  to  have  a  struggle  with  its 
chief.  We  are  going  to  see  Luther  at  close  quarters 
with  Rome. 

This  step  was  taken  on  his  return  from  Heidelberg. 
His  first  theses  on  indulgences  had  been  misunderstood, 
and  he  determined  to  explain  their  meaning  with 
greater  clearness.  The  outcry  raised  by  the  blind 
hatred  of  his  enemies  had  convinced  him  how  impor- 
tant it  was  to  gain  the  most  enlightened  part  of  the 
nation  in  favour  of  truth,  and  he  resolved  to  appeal  to 
its  judgment  by  calling  attention  to  the  foundation  on 
which  his  convictions  rested.  It  was,  indeed,  neces- 
sary for  once  to  appeal  to  the  decision  of  Rome ;  and 
he  hesitates  not  to  send  all  his  explanations.  Present- 
ing them  with  one  hand  to  the  enlightened  and  impar- 
tial among  his  coimtrymen,  he  with  the  other  lays  them 
before  the  throne  of  the  sovereign  pontiff. 

These  explanations  of  his  theses,  which  he  denomi- 
nated "Solutions,"  were  written  with  gi-eat  modera- 
tion. Luther  tried  to  soften  the  passages  which  had 
caused  most  iiritation,  and  gave  proof  of  genuine 
modesty.  At  the  same  time  he  shewed  that  his  convic- 
tions were  immoveable  ;  and  he  courageously  defended 
all  the  propositions  which  truth  obliged  him  to  main- 
tain. He  again  repeated,  that  every  Christian  who 
truly  repents  possesses  the  remission  of  sins  without 
indulgence ;  that  the  pope,  like  the  humblest  of  priests, 
can  only  declare  simply  what  God  has  already  par- 
doned ;  that  the  treasm-e  of  the  merits  of  the  saints 
administered  by  the  pope  was  a  chimera ;  and  that  Holy 
Scripture  was  the  only  rule  of  faith.  Let  us  hear  him- 
self on  some  of  these  points. 

He  begins  with  establishing  the  nature  of  true 
penitence,  and  contrasts  the  divine  act,  which  renews 
man,  with  the  mummery  of  the  Romish  Church. 
"  The  Greek  word  nfravofne,"  says  he,  "  signifies — be 
clothed  with  a  uew  spirit  and  new  feelings;  have  a 
new  nature;  so  that,  ceasing  to  be  earthly,  you 
may  become  heavenly.  ,  .  .  Christ  is  a  teacher 
of  the  spirit  and  not  of  the  letter,  and  His  words  are 
spirit  and  life."  He,  tlierefore,  inculcates,  not  those 
external  penances  which  the  proudest  sinners  can  per- 
form without  being  humbled,  but  a  repentance  accord- 
ing to  spirit  and  truth, — a  repentance  which  may  be 
fulfilled  in  all  the  situations  of  life,  under  the  purple 
of  kings,  the  cassock  of  priests,  and  the  coronet  of 
princes;  amid  the  magnificence  of  Babylon,  where  a 


Daniel  lived,  as  well  as  under  a  monk's  frock  and  a 
beggar's  tatters. 

Further  ou  we  meet  with  these  bold  words :  "  I  give 
myself  no  trouble  as  to  what  pleases  or  displeases  the 
pope.  He  is  a  man  like  other  men.  There  have  been 
several  popes  who  loved  not  only  errors  and  vices,  but 
even  things  still  more  extraordinary.  I  listen  to  the 
pope  as  pope;  that  is,  when  he  speaks  in  the  canons, 
according  to  the  canons,  or  when  he  decides  some 
article  with  a  council ;  but  not  when  he  speaks  out  of 
his  own  head.  If  I  did  otherwise,  would  I  not  be 
bound  to  say  with  those  who  know  not  Jesus  Christ, 
that  the  horrible  massacres  of  Christians  of  which 
Julius  II.  w.as  guilty,  were  the  kind  acts  of  an 
affectionate  shepherd  towards  the  Lord's  sheep?" 

"  I  cannot  but  be  astonished,"  continues  he,  "  at  the 
simplicity  of  those  who  have  said  that  the  two  swords 
of  the  Gospel  represent, — the  one  the  spiritual  power, 
and  the  other  the  temporal.  Yes,  the  pope  holds  a 
sword  of  steel,  and  so  exhibits  himself  to  Christendom, 
not  as  a  tender  father,  but  as  a  formidable  tyrant. 
Ah !  God  in  His  anger  has  given  us  the  sword  we 
wished,  and  withdrawn  that  which  we  despised.  In 
no  quarter  of  the  world  have  there  been  more  dreadful 
wars  than  among  Christians.  .  .  .  Why  did  the 
ingenious  intellect  which  discovered  this  fine  com- 
mentary, not  with  equal  subtilty  interpret  the  history 
of  the  two  keys  committed  to  St.  Peter,  and  in  that 
way  make  it  an  established  dogirfa  of  the  Church,  that 
the  one  serves  to  open  the  treasures  of  heaven,  and  the 
other  the  treasures  of  the  world  V' 

"  It  is  impossible,"  he  again  says,  "  that  a  man  cau 
be  a  Christian  without  having  Christ ;  and  if  he  has 
Christ,  he  at  the  same  time  has  all  that  belongs  to 
Christ.  The  thing  which  gi\es  peace  to  our  conscience 
is,  that  by  faitli  our  sins  are  no  longer  ours,  but 
Christ's,  on  whom  God  has  laid  them;  and  that,  ou 
the  other  hand,  all  the  righteousness  of  Christ  is  ours, 
to  whom  God  has  given  it.  Christ  puts  His  hand 
upon  us  and  we  are  cured.  He  throws  His  mantle 
over  us  and  we  are  covered ;  for  He  is  the  glorious 
Saviour,  blessed  for  ever  and  ever." 

With  such  views  of  the  riches  of  salvation  by  Jesus 
Christ,  there  was  no  need  of  indulgences. 

Luther,  while  attacking  the  papacy,  speaks  honour- 
ably of  Leo  X.  "  The  times  in  which  we  live  are  so 
bad,"  says  he,  "  that  even  the  greatest  personages  can- 
not come  to  the  help  of  the  Church.  We  have  now  a 
very  good  ])ope  in  Leo  X.  His  sincerity  and  know- 
ledge fill  us  with  joy.  But  what  can  one  man,  though 
amiable  and  agreeable,  do  by  himself  alone  ?  He 
cei-tainly  deserved  to  be  pope  in  better  times.  AVe,  in 
our  day,  deserve  only  such  popes  as  Julius  II.  and 
Alexander  VL" 


LUTHER'S  LETTERS  TO  HIS  BISHOP  AND  THE  POPE. 


He  afterwards  comes  to  the  crowning  point:  "I 
wish  to  say  the  thing  in  a  few  words  and  boldly.  The 
Church  stands  in  need  of  a  reformation  ;  and  this  can- 
not be  the  work  cither  of  a  single  man,  like  the  pope, 
or  of  many  men,  like  the  cardinals,  and  fathers  of 
councils ;  but  it  must  be  that  of  the  whole  world,  or 
rather,  it  is  a  work  which  belongs  to  God  only.  As  to 
the  time  iu  which  such  a  reformation  ought  to  begin. 
He  alone  who  created  time  can  tell.  .  .  .  The 
embankment  is  broken  down,  and  it  is  no  longer  in 
our  power  to  an-est  the  torrents  which  arc  rushing 
impetuously  along." 

Such  are  some  of  the  thoughts  and  declarations 
which  Luther  addressed  to  the  enlightened  among  his 
countrymen.  The  feast  of  Pentecost  was  at  hand; 
and  at  this  period,  when  the  apostles  rendered  the  iirst 
testimony  of  their  faith  to  the  risen  Saviour,  Luther,  ii 
new  apostle,  published  this  enlivening  book,  in  which 
he  expressed  his  earnest  longings  for  a  resurrection  of 
the  Church.  Saturday,  22nd  May,  1518,  being  Pente- 
cost eve,  he  sent  his  work  to  his  ordinary,  the  bishop 
of  Brandenburg,  with  the  following  letter:  — 

"Most  w^orthy  Father  in  God, — Some  time  ago, 
when  a  novel  and  unheard-of  doctrine,  touching  the 
apostolic  indulgences,  began  to  make  a  noise  iu  these 
countries,  both  learned  and  ignorant  felt  concerned ; 
and  many  persons,  some  of  them  known  to  me,  and 
others  whom  I  did  not  even  know  by  face,  urged  mo 
to  publish,  by  word  of  mouth,  or  by  writing,  what  I 
thought  of  the  novelty,  I  am  unwilling  to  say,  the 
impudence  of  this  doctrine.  At  first  I  was  silent,  and 
kept  back.  But  at  length  matters  came  to  such  a 
point,  tliat  the  holiness  of  the  pope  was  compromised. 

"  What  was  I  to  do  ?  I  thought  it  best  neither  to 
approve  nor  to  condemn  these  doctrines;  but  to 
establish  a  discussion  on  this  important  point,  until 
the  holy  Church  should  decide. 

"  Nobody  having  come  forward  to  this  combat,  to 
which  I  had  invited  all  the  world,  and  my  theses 
having  been  considered  not  as  materials  for  discussion, 
but  positive  assertions,  I  feel  myself  obliged  to  publish 
an  e.Yplauation  of  them.  Deign,  then,  most  gracious 
bishop,  to  receive  these  trifles  at  my  hand.  And  that 
all  the  world  may  see  I  am  not  acting  presumptuously, 
I  supplicate  your  reverence  to  take  pea  and  ink,  and 
blot  out,  or  even  throw  into  the  fire  and  burn,  what- 
ever in  them  displeases  you.  I  know  that  Jesus  Christ 
has  no  need  of  my  labours  and  my  services,  and  that 
He  can  very  well,  without  me,  publish  good  tidings  to 
His  Church.  Not  that  the  bulls  and  menaces  of  my 
enemies  deter  me, — very  much  the  contrary.  If  they 
were  not  so  impudent  and  so  shameless,  nobody  would 
hear  a  word  from  me.  I  would  shut  myself  up  in  a 
corner,  and  there  study  by  myself  for  myself.  If  this 
affair  is  not  of  God,  it  certainly  cannot  be  my  affair, 
iiir  tliat  of  any  man,  but  a  thing  of  nought.  Let  the 
glory  and  honoiu-  be  ascribed  to  Him  to  whom  alone 
they  belong." 

Luther  had  still  the  greatest  respect  for  the  head  of 
the  Church.  He  supposed  that  there  was  justice  in 
Leo  X..  and  a  sincere  love  of  truth.  He  resolved, 
therefdio,  to  applv  to  him  also;  and  eight  days  after, 
on  Trinity  Sunday,  30th  May,  1518,  addressed  him  in 
a  letter,  of  which  we  give  the  following  extracts  :— 


"To  the  Most  Blessed  Father,  Liio  X.,  Sovereign 
Bishop, 
"  Friar  Martin  Luther,  Augustine,  wishes  eternal 
salvation ! 

"  I  learn,  most  holy  Father,  that  evil  reports  are 
current  with  regard  to  me,  and  that  my  name  is 
brought  into  bad  odour  with  your  holiness.  I  am 
called  heretic,  apostate,  traitor,  and  a  thousand  other 
opprobrious  epithetj*.  "What  I  see  astonishes ;  what  I 
Iicar  amazes  me.  But  the  only  foundation  of  my 
tranquillity  remains,  and  that  is  a  pure  and  peaceful 
conscience.  Be  pleased  to  listen  to  me,  most  holy 
Father, — to  me,  who  am  only  an  ignorant  child." 

Luther  relates  the  origin  of  the  whole  affair,  and 
continues  thus : — 

"  In  all  taverns  nothing  was  heard  but  complaints 
of  the  avarice  of  priests,  and  attacks  on  the  power  of 
the  keys  and  the  sovereign  pontiff.  This  all  Germany 
can  testify.  On  hearing  these  things,  my  zeal  for  the 
glory  of  Christ  was  moved,  (so  I  thought,)  or  if  they 
will  explain  it  otherwise,  my  young  and  boiling  blood 
was  inflamed. 

"  I  warned  several  of  the  princes  of  the  Church ; 
but  some  mocked  me,  and  others  turned  a  deaf  ear. 
All  seemed  paralyzed  by  the  terror  of  your  name. 
Then  I  published  the  discussion. 

"  And  this,  most  holy  Father !  this  is  the  fire  which 
is  said  to  have  set  the  whole  world  in  flames ! 

"  Now,  what  must  I  do  ?  I  cannot  retract,  and  I 
see  that  this  publication  is  subjecting  me  to  incon- 
ceivable hatred  in  all  quarters.  I  love  not  to  stand 
forth  in  the  midst  of  the  world;  for  I  am  without 
knowledge,  without  talent,  and  far  too  feeble  for  such 
great  things,  especially  in  this  illustrious  age,  in 
which  Cicero  himself,  were  he  alive,  would  be  obliged 
to  hide  in  some  obscure  corner. 

"  But  iu  order  to  appease  my  adversaries,  and  re- 
spond to  numerous  solicitations,  I  here  publish  my 
thoughts.  I  publish  them,  holy  Fatlier,  that  I  may 
place  myself  in  safety  under  the  shadow  of  your  wiugs. 
All  who  are  willing  will  thus  be  able  to  understand 
with  what  simplicity  of  heart  I  have  asked  the  ecclesi- 
astical authority  to  instruct  me,  and  what  respect  I 
have  shewn  for  the  power  of  the  keys.  If  I  had  not 
managed  the  affair  in  a  becoming  manner,  it  is  im- 
possible that  the  most  serene  lord  Frederick,  duke 
and  elector  of  Saxony,  who  shines  among  the  friends 
of  apostolical  and  Christian  truth,  would  ever  have 
tolerated,  in  his  university  of  Wittemberg,  a  man  so 
dangerous  as  I  am  represented  to  be. 

"  Wherefore,  most  holy  Father,  I  throw  myself  at 
the  feet  of  your  holiness,  and  submit  to  you  with  all 
I  have,  and  all  I  am.  Destroy  my  cause,  or  embrace 
it ;  decide  for  me,  or  decide  against  me ;  take  my  life, 
or  restore  it  to  me,  just  as  you  please.  I  will  re- 
cognise your  voice  .is  the  voice  of  Jesus  Christ,  who 
presides  and  speaks  by  you.  If  I  have  deserved  death, 
I  refuse  not  to  die.  The  earth  belongs  unto  the  Lord, 
and 'all  that  it  contains.  Let  Him  be  praised  to  all 
eternity.  Amen.  May  He  sustain  you  for  ever  and 
ever.     Amen. 

"  Ou  the  day  of  the  Holy  Trinity,  in  the  year  1518. 
"Friab  Maktin  Lutuer,  Auyiisline." 


HISTORY  OF  THE  EEFORMATIOX. 


What  humility  and  truth  in  this  fear,  or  rather  in 
this  confession  of  Luther,  that  his  young  and  boUing 
blood  had,  perhaps,  been  too  quickly  inflamed !  We 
here  recognise  the  man  of  sincerity,  who,  not  presum- 
ing on  himself,  fears  the  influence  of  passion  even  in 
those  of  his  actions  which  are  most  conformable  to  the 
TTord  of  God.  There  is  a  wide  difference  between 
this  language  and  that  of  a  proud  fanatic.  We  see  in 
Luther  an  earnest  desire  to  gain  over  Leo  to  the  cause 
of  truth,  to  prevent  all  disruption,  and  make  this  refor- 
mation, the  necessity  of  which  he  proclaims,  come  from 
the  very  pinnacle  of  the  Chiu-ch.  Assuredly  he  is  not 
the  person  who  ought  to  be  charged  T%-ith  destroying 
in  the  West  that  unity,  the  loss  of  which  was  after- 
wards so  much  regretted.  He  sacrificed  everything  in 
order  to  maintain  it, — everything  but  truth.  It  was 
not  he,  but  his  adversaries,  who,  by  refusing  to  acknow- 
ledge the  fulness  and  sufficiency  of  the  salvation  wrought 
out  by  Jesus  Christ,  are  chargeable  with  having  rent 
the  Saviour's  robe  at  the  foot  of  the  cross. 

After  writing  this  letter,  Luther,  the  very  same  day, 
addressed  his  friend  Staupitz,  vicar-general  of  his 
order.  It  was  through  him  he  ^vished  his  "  Solutions  " 
and  his  epistle  to  reach  Leo. 

" I  pray  you,"  says  he  to  him,  "kindly  to  accept  the 
miserable  things  which  I  send  you.  and  transmit  them 
to  the  excellent  pope,  Leo  X.  Xot  that  I  would 
thereby  drag  you  into  the  perUs  to  which  I  am  exposed. 
I  wish  to  take  all  the  danger  to  myself.  Jesus  Christ 
wiU  see  whether  what  I  have  said  comes  from  Him  or 
comes  from  me — Jesus  Christ,  without  whose  will 
neither  the  tongue  of  the  pope  can  move,  nor  the  hearts 
of  kings  resolve. 

'•To  those  who  threaten  me  I  have  no  answer  to 
give,  unless  it  be  the  remark  of  Eeuchlin :  '  The  poor 
man  has  nothing  to  fe;ir.  for  he  has  nothing  to  lose.' 
I  have  neither  money  nor  goods,  and  I  ask  none.  If  I 
once  possessed  some  honour  and  some  reputation,  let 
him  that  has  begun  to  strip  me  of  them  finish  his  work. 
I  have  nothing  left  but  this  miserable  body,  enfeebled 
by  so  many  trials ;  let  them  kill  it  by  force  or  fraud, 
to  the  glory  of  God.  In  this  way  they  will,  perhaps, 
shorten  my  life  an  hour  or  two.  Enough  for  me  to 
have  a  precious  Redeemer,  a  powerful  Priest-,  Jesus 
Christ  the  Lord  I — ^I  will  praise  Him  whUe  I  have 
a  breath  of  life ;  and  if  none  -n-ill  praise  Him  with  me, 
how  can  I  help  it  ?  " 

These  words  enable  us  to  read  Luther's  heart. 

While  he  was  thus  looking  with  confidence  towards 
Rome,  Rome  had  thoughts  of  vengeance  towards  him. 
On  the  3d  of  April,  Cardinal  R.iphael  de  Rovere  had 
■WTitten  to  the  Elector  Frederick,  in  the  pope's  name, 
stating  that  suspicions  were  entertained  of  liis  faith, 
and  that  he  ought  to  beware  of  protecting  Luther. 

'•  Cardinal  R.aphael,"  says  Luther,  '•  would  have  had 
great  pleasiu-e  in  seeing  me  hiu-ned  by  Duke  Frederick." 
Thus  Rome  began  to  whet  her  arms  against  Luther, 
and  the  first  blow  which  she  aimed  at  him  was  thrqugh 
the  mind  of  his  protector.  If  she  succeeded  in  destrov- 
ing  the  shelter  under  which  the  monk  of  Wittemberg 
was  reposing,  he  would  become  an  easv  prev. 

The  German  princes  attached  much  importance  to 
their  reputation  as  Christian  princes.  The  slightest 
suspicion  of  heresy  filled  them  -vrith  alarm,  and  the 


court  of  Rome  had  shrewdly  availed  itself  of  this  feel- 
ing. Frederick,  moreover,  had  always  been  attached 
to  the  religion  of  his  fathers,  and  Raphael's  letter  made 
a  very  strong  impression  on  his  mind.  But  it  was  a 
principle  ^-ith  the  elector  not  to  act  hastily  in  anything. 
He  knew  that  truth  was  not  always  on  the  side  of  the 
strongest.  The  transactions  of  the  empire  with  Rome 
had  taught  him  to  distrust  the  selfish  views  of  that 
court ;  and  he  was  aware  that  in  order  to  be  a  Chris- 
tian prince,  it  w.as  not  necessary  to  be  the  pope's  slave. 
'•  He  was  not,"  says  Melancthon,  "  one  of  those  pro- 
fane spirits  who  wish  to  stifle  all  changes  in  their  first 
beginnings,  Frederick  resigned  himself  to  God.  He 
carefully  read  the  writings  which  were  published,  and 
what  he  judged  true  he  allowed  no  one  to  destroy." 
He  had  power  to  do  so.  Supreme  in  his  own  states, 
he  was  respected  in  the  empire,  at  le.ost  as  highly  as  the 
emperor  himself. 

It  is  prob.ible  that  Luther  learned  something  of  this 
letter  of  Cardinal  Raphael,  which  was  sent  to  the 
elector  on  the  7th  of  July.  Perhaps  it  was  the  pros- 
pect of  excommunication  which  this  Roman  missive 
seemed  to  presage,  that  led  him  to  mount  the  pulpit  of 
Wittemberg  on  the  15th  of  the  same  mouth,  and  on 
this  subject  deUver  a  discourse  which  made  a  profound 
impression.  He  distinguished  between  internal  and 
external  excommunication, — the  former  excluding  from 
communion  with  God,  and  the  latter  excluding  only 
from  the  ceremonies  of  the  Church.  ••  Nobody."  says 
he,  '•  can  reconcile  a  lapsed  soul  with  God  save  God 
himself.  Nobody  can  separate  man  from  communion 
,  with  God  unless  it  be  man  himself  by  his  own  sins ! 
I  Happy  he  who  dies  unjustly  excommunicated  I  While 
i  for  righteousness'  sake  he  endures  a  heavy  infliction  ou 
the  part  of  man,  he  receives  the  crown  of  eternal 
felicity  from  the  hand  of  God," 

Some  highly  applauded  this  bold  language,  whUe 
others  were  more  irritated  by  it.  But  Luther  was  no 
longer  alone  ;  and  although  his  faith  needed  no  other 
support  than  that  of  God,  a  phalanx  of  defence  against 
his  enemies  was  formed  .around  him.  The  Germans 
had  heard  the  voice  of  the  reformer.  His  discourses 
and  his  writings  sent  forth  flashes  which  awoke  and 
illumined  his  contemporaries.  The  energy  of  his  faith 
fell  in  torrents  of  fire  on  slumbering  hearts.  The  life 
which  God  had  infused  into  this  extraordinary  soul 
was  imp.arted  to  the  dead  body  of  the  Church ;  and 
Christendom,  which  had  for  so  many  ages  been 
motionless,  was  animated  with  a  religious  enthusiasm. 
The  devotedness  of  the  people  to  the  superstitions  of 
Rome  diminished  every  day,  and  the  number  of  hands 
which  offered  money  for  the  purchase  of  p-irdon 
became  fewer  and  fewer,  while  at  the  same  time 
Luther's  fame  continued  to  increase.  People  turned 
towards  him,  and  h.ailed  him  with  love  and  respect,  as 
the  intrepid  defender  of  truth  and  liberty.  No  doubt 
the  full  depth  of  the  doctrines  which  he  .announced 
was  not  perceived.  It  was  enough  for  the  greater 
number  to  know  that  the  new  doctor  withstood  the 
pope,  and  that  the  empire  of  priests  and  monks  was 
shaken  by  his  powerful  word.  To  them  the  attack  of 
'  Luther  was  like  one  of  those  fires  which  are  kindled 
I  on  mountain  tops,  as  the  signal  for  a  whole  niition 
to  rise  and  burst  ite  chains.     Before  the  reformer 


DIET  AT  AUGSBURG. 


suspected  what  he  had  done,  all  the  generous  hearted 

I    among  his  countrymen  had  already  acknowledged  him 

for  their  leader.     To  many,  however,  the  appearance 

of  Luther  was  something  more.     The  "Word  of  God, 

which  he  wielded  with  so  much  power,  pierced  their 

minds  like  a  sharp  two-edged  sword ;  and  their  hearts 

were   inflamed  with   an   ardent  desire   to   obtain    the 

assurance  of  pardon  and  eternal  life.     Since  primitive 

times,  the  Church  had  not  known  such  hungering  and 

thirsting   after    righteousness.      If   the    preaching   of 

,    Peter  the  Hermit  and  Bernard  so  aroused  the  popula- 

I    tion  of  the   Middle  Ages  as  to  make  them  take  up 

;    a  perishable  cross,  the  preaching  of  Luther  disposed 

those  of  his  time  to  embrace  the  true  cross, — the  truth 

which  saves.     The  framework  which  then  lay  with  all 

its  weight  on  the  Church  had  smothered  everything ; 

,    the  form  had  destroyed  the  life.      But  the  powerful 

word  given  to  Luther  caused  a  quickening  breath  to 

,    circulate  over  the  soil  of  Christendom.     At  the  first 

I    glance,  the  writings  of  Luther  were  equally  captivating 

,    to  believers  and  unbelievers, — to  unbelievers,  because 

I    the   positive    doctrines    afterwards    to   be    established 

1    were  not  yet  fully  developed  in  them  ;  and  to  believers, 

because  they  contained  the  germ  of  that  living  faith 

which  they  so  powerfully  express.    Hence  the  influence 

of  these  writings  was  immense.     They  spread  almost 

instantaneously  over  Germany  and  the  world.      The 

I    prevailing   impression   of    men   everywhere  was,  that 

they  were  assisting,  not  at  the  establishment  of  a  sect, 

but  at  a  new  birth   of    the   Church   and  of   Society. 

I    Those  who  were  born  of  the  Spirit  of  God  ranged 

themselves  around  him  who  was  its  organ.     Christen- 

'    dom  was  divided  into  two  camps, — the  one  leagued  with 

I    the  spirit  against  the  form,  and  the  other  with   the 

j    form  against  the  spirit.     It  is  true  that  on  the  side  of 

the  form  were  all    the   appearances  of   strength   and 

I    grandeur,  aud  on  the  side  of  the  spirit  those  of  feeble- 

;    ness  and  insignificance.     But  the  form,  devoid  of  the 

spirit,  is  a  lifeless  body,  which  the  first  breath  may 

upset.    Its  appearance  of  power  only  provokes  hostility, 

and  accelerates  its  downfall.     In  this  way  the  simple 

I    truth  had  placed  Luther  at  the  head  of  a  mighty  army. 


I  CHAPTER  n. 

I  Diet  at  Augsburg— The  Emperor  to  the  Pope-The  Elector  to  Kovere— 
1  Luther  cited  to  Rome— Luther's  Peace— Intercession  of  the  Universitj— 
[         Ptp«l  Brief— LuUier's  Indignation— The  Pope  to  the  Elector. 

This  army  was  needed,  for  the  great  began  to  move. 

I  Both  the  empire  and  the  Church  were  uniting  their 
efforts  to  rid  themselves  of  this  troublesome  monk. 
Had  the  imperial  throne  been  occupied  by  a  brave  and 
energetic  prince,  he  might  have  profited  by  these 
reUgious  agitations ;  and,  throwing  himself  on  God  and 
the  nation,  given  new  force  to  the  former  opposition  to 
the  papacy.  But  Maximilian  was  too  old,  and  was 
determined,  moreover,  to  sacrifice  everything  to  what 
he  regarded  as  the  end  of  his  existence,— the  aggran- 
disement of  his  house,  and  through  it  the  exaltation 

I     of  hia  grandson. 


The  Emperor  Maximilian  at  this  time  held  a  diet  at 
Augsburg.  Six  electors  attended  in  person;  and  all 
the  Germanic  states  were  represented  at  it ;  while  the 
kings  of  France,  Hungary,  and  Poland  sent  their 
ambassadors.  All  these  princes  and  envoys  appeared 
in  great  splendour.  The  war  against  the  Turks  was 
one  of  the  subjects  for  which  the  diet  had  assembled. 
Tlie  legate  of  Leo  X.  strongly  urged  the  prosecution 
of  it ;  but  tlie  states,  instructed  by  the  bad  use  which 
had  formerly  been  made  of  their  contributions,  and 
sagely  counselled  by  the  Elector  Frederick,  con- 
tented themselves  with  declaring  that  they  would  take 
the  matter  into  consideration,  aud,  at  tlie  same  time, 
produced  new  grievances  against  Rome.  A  Latin 
discourse,  published  during  the  diet,  boldly  called  the 
attention  of  the  German  princes  to  the  true  danger. 
"  You  wish,"  said  the  author,  '•  to  put  the  Turk  to 
flight.  This  is  well ;  but  I  am  much  afraid  that  you 
are  mistaken  as  to  his  person.  It  is  not  in  Asia,  but 
in  Ital}-,  that  you  ought  to  seek  him." 

Another  affair  of  no  less  importance  was  to  occupy 
the  diet.  Maximilian  was  desirous  that  his  grandson 
Charles,  already  king  of  Spain  and  Xaples,  should  be 
proclaimed  king  of  the  Romans,  and  his  successors  in 
the  imperial  dignity.  The  pope  knew  his  interest  too 
well  to  wish  the  imperial  throne  to  be  occupied  by  a 
prince  whose  power  in  Italy  might  prove  formidable  to 
him.  The  emperor  thought  he  had  already  gained  the 
greater  part  of  the  electors  and  states ;  but  he  found  a 
strenuous  opponent  in  Frederick.  In  vain  did  he  so- 
licit him,  and  in  vain  did  the  ministers  and  best  friends 
of  the  elector  join  their  entreaties  to  those  of  the 
emperor.  Frederick  was  immoveable,  and  proved  the 
truth  of  what  has  been  said  of  him,  that  when  once 
satisfied  of  the  justice  of  a  resolution,  he  had  firmness 
of  soul  never  to  abandon  it.  The  emperor's  design 
failed. 

From  this  time  the  emperor  sought  to  gain  the  good- 
will of  the  pope,  in  order  to  render  him  favourable  to 
his  plans ;  and,  as  a  special  proof  of  his  devotedness, 
on  the  5th  August,  wrote  him  the  following  letter: — 
••  Most  holy  Father,  we  learned,  some  days  ago,  that  a 
friar  of  the  Augustine  order,  named  Martin  Luther, 
has  begun  to  maintain  divers  propositions  as  to  the 
commerce  in  indulgences.  Our  displeasure  is  the 
greater  because  the  said  friar  finds  many  protectors, 
among  whom  are  powerful  personages.  If  your  holi- 
ness and  the  very  reverend  fathers  of  the  Church  (the 
cardinals)  do  not  forthwith  employ  their  authoritjfc  to 
put  an  end  to  these  scandals,  not  only  will  these  per- 
nicious doctors  seduce  the  simple,  but  they  will  involve 
great  princes  in  their  ruin.  "We  will  take  care  that 
whatever  your  holiness  may  decide  on  this  matter,  for 
the  glory  of  Almighty  God,  shall  be  observed  by  all  in 
our  empire." 

This  letter  must  have  been  ^vritteu  after  some  rather 
keen  discussion  between  Maximilian  and  Frederick. 
The  same  day  the  elector  wrote  to  Raphael  de  Rovere. 
He  had,  doubtless,  learned  that  the  emperor  was 
addressing  the  Roman  pontiff,  and  to  parry  the  blow, 
he  put  himself  in  communication  with  Rome. 

"  I  can  have  no  other  wish,"  said  he,  '"  than  to  shew 
myself  submissive  to  the  universal  Church.  Accord- 
ingly, I  have  never  defended  the  writings  and  sermons 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


of  Doctor  Martin  Luther.  I  understand,  moreover, 
that  he  has  always  offered  to  appear  with  a  safe-con- 
duct before  impartial,  learned,  and  Christian  judges, 
iu  order  to  defend  his  doctrine,  and  submit,  in  the 
event  of  being  convinced  by  Scripture  itself." 

Leo  X.,  who  had  hitherto  allowed  the  affair  to  take 
its  course,  aroused  by  the  cries  of  theologians  and 
monks,  instituted  an  ecclesiastical  com-t,  which  was  to 
try  Luther  at  Kome,  and  in  which  Sylvester  Prierio, 
the  great  enemy  of  the  reformer,  was  at  once  accuser 
and  judge.  The  charge  was  soon  dra^vn  up,  and  Luther 
was  summoned  by  the  court  to  appear  personally  in 
sixty  days. 

Luther  was  at  Wittemberg,  calmly  awaiting  the  good 
effect  which  his  humble  letter  to  the  pope  was,  as  he 
imagined,  to  produce,  when,  on  the  7tli  of  August, 
only  two  days  after  the  despatch  of  the  letters  of  Maxi- 
milian and  Frederick,  he  received  the  citation  from  the 
Roman  tribunal.  "  At  the  moment,"  says  he,  •'  when 
I  was  expecting  the  benediction,  I  saw  the  thunder 
burst  upon  me.  I  was  the  lamb  troubling  the  water 
to  the  wolf.  Tetzel  escapes,  and  I  must  allow  myself 
to  be  eaten." 

This  citation  threw  Wittemberg  into  consternation  ; 
for  whatever  course  Luther  might  adopt,  he  could  not 
avert  the  danger.  If  he  repaired  to  Rome,  he  must 
tlicre  become  the  victim  of  his  enemies.  If  he  refused 
to  go,  he  would,  as  a  matter  of  course,  be  condemned 
for  contumacy,  without  being  able  to  escape ;  for  it  was 
known  that  the  legate  had  received  orders  from  the 
pope  to  do  everything  he  could  do  to  irritate  the 
emperor  and  the  German  princes  against  him.  His 
friends  were  in  dismay.  Must  the  teacher  of  truth  go 
with  his  life  in  his  hand  to  that  great  city,  drunk  ivith 
llic  blood  of  the  saints  and  martyrs  of  Jesus  ?  Is  it  suffi- 
cient to  ensure  any  man's  destruction  that  he  has  raised 
his  head  from  the  bosom  of  enslaved  Christendom? 
Must  this  man,  whom  God  appears  to  have  formed  for 
resisting  a  power  which  hitherto  nothing  has  been  able 
to  resist,  be  also  overthrown  ?  Luther  himself  saw  .no 
one  who  could  save  him,  unless  it  were  the  elector ;  but 
he  would  rather  die  than  endanger  his  prince.  His 
friends  at  last  fell  on  an  expedient  which  would  not 
compromise  Frederick.  Let  him  refuse  a  safe-conduct, 
and  Luther  will  have  a  legitimate  cause  for  refusing  to 
appear  at  Rome. 

On  the  8th  of  August,  Luther  wrote  to  Spalatin, 
praying  that  the  elector  would  employ  his  influence  to 
have  him  cited  in  Germany.  He  also  wrote  to  Stau- 
j)it8  :  "  See  what  ambuscades  they  use  to  ensnare  me, 
and  how  I  am  surrounded  with  thorns.  But  Christ 
lives  and  reigns,  to-day,  yesterday,  and  for  ever.  My 
conscience  assures  me  that  what  I  have  taught  is  the 
truth,  though  it  becomes  still  more  odious  when  I 
teach  it.  The  Church  is  like  the  womb  of  Rebecca. 
The  children  must  struggle  together  so  as  even  to  en- 
danger the  life  of  the  mother.  As  to  what  remains, 
entreat  the  Lord  that  I  may  not  have  too  much  joy  iu 
this  trial.     May  God  not  lay  tlie  sin  to  their  charge." 

Tlic  friends  of  Luther  did  not  confine  themselves  to 
consultation  and  complaint.  Spalatiu,  on  the  part  of 
the  elector,  ^vrote  to  Renner,  the  emperor's  secretary : 
"  Dr.  Martin  is  very  willing  that  his  judges  shall  be  all 
the  universities  of  Germany,  with  the  exception  of 


those  of  Erfurt,  Leipsic,  and  Frankfort-on-the-Oder, 
which  he  has  ground  to  suspect.  It  is  impossible  for 
him  to  appear  personally  at  Rome." 

The  university  of  Wittemberg  wrote  a  letter  of  inter- 
cession to  the  pope  himself,  and  thus  spoke  of  Luther ; 
'■  The  feebleness  of  his  body,  and  the  dangers  of  the 
journey,  make  it  difficult,  and  even  impossible  for  him 
to  obey  the  order  of  your  holiness.  His  distress  aud 
his  prayers  dispose  us  to  have  compassion  on  him. 
We,  then,  as  obedient  sons,  entreat  you,  most  holy 
Father,  to  be  pleased  to  regard  him  as  a  man  who  has 
never  taught  doctrines  in  opposition  to  the  sentiments 
of  the  Roman  Church."  On  the  same  day  the  univer- 
sity, in  its  anxiety,  addressed  Charles  de  Miltitz,  a 
Saxon  gentleman,  —  the  chamberlain,  and  a  great 
favourite  of  the  pope,— and  bore  testimony  to  Luther 
iu  terms  still  stronger  tlian  those  which  it  had  ventmed 
to  insert  in  the  former  letter.  "  The  worthy  father, 
Martin  Luther,  Augustine,  is  the  noblest  and  most 
honourable  man  of  our  university.  For  several  years 
we  have  seen  and  known  his  ability,  his  knowledge,  his 
high  attainments  iu  arts  and  literature,  his  irreproach- 
able manners,  and  his  altogether  Cliristian  conduct." 

This  active  charity  on  the  part  of  all  who  were 
about  Luther,  is  his  finest  eulogium. 

Wliile  the  issue  was  anxiously  waited  for,  the  affair 
terminated  more  easily  than  might  have  been  supposed. 
The  Legate  de  Vio,  chagrined  at  not  having  succeeded 
in  the  commission  which  he  had  received  to  prepare  a 
general  war  against  the  Turks,  was  desirous  to  give 
lustre  to  his  embassy  iu  Germany  by  some  other  bril- 
liant exploit;  and  thinking  that  if  he  extinguished 
heresy  he  would  reappear  at  Rome  with  glory,  he 
asked  the  pope  to  remit  the  affair  to  him.  Leo  felt 
himself  under  obligation  to  Frederick,  for  having  so 
strenuously  opposed  the  election  of  young  Charles,  and 
was  aware  that  he  might  still  want  his  assistance. 
Accordingly,  without  adverting  to  the  citation,  he 
charged  his  legate  by  a  brief,  dated  23d  of  August,  to 
examine  the  affair  in  Germany.  The  pope  lost  nothing 
by  this  mode  of  proceeding ;  and,  at  the  same  time,^  if 
Luther  could  be  brought  to  a  retractation,  the  noise 
and  scandal  which  his  appearance  at  Rome  might  have 
occiisioned  were  avoided. 

"  We  charge  you,"  said  he,  "  to  bring  personally  he- 
fore  you,  to  pursue  and  constrain  without  delay,  and  as 
soon  as  you  receive  this  our  letter,  the  said  Luther, 
who  has  already  been  declared  heretic  by  our  dear 
brother,  Jerome,  bishop  of  Asculan." 

Then  the  pope  prescribes  the  severest  measures 
against  Luther. 

"  For  this  purpose  invoke  the  arm  and  assistance  of 
our  very  dear  son  iu  Christ,  Maximilian,  the  other 
princes  of  Germany,  and  all  its  commonalities,  univer- 
sities, and  powers  ecclesiastical  or  secular ;  and  if  you 
apprehend  him,  keep  him  in  safe  custody,  in  order  that 
he  may  be  brought  before  us." 

We  see  that  this  indulgent  concession  of  the  pope 
was  little  else  than  a  surer  method  of  dragging  Luther 
to  Rome.     Next  follow  the  gentle  measures  :— 

"  If  he  returns  to  himself,  and  asks  pardon  for  his 
great  crime,  asks  it  of  himself,  and  without  being  urged 
to  do  it,  we  give  you  power  to  receive  him  into  the 
unity  of  Holy  Mother  Church." 


THE  POPE'S  BRIEF. 


lOV 


The  pope  soon  returns  to  malediction. 
"If  he  persists  in  his  obstinacy,  and  yon  cannot 
make  yourself  master  of  his  person,  we  give  you  power 
to  proscribe  him  in  all  parts  of  Germany;  to  banish, 
curse,  and  excommunicate  all  who  arc  attached  to  him, 
and  to  order  all  Christians  to  shun  their  presence." 
Still,  this  is  not  enough.  The  pope  continues  : — 
"  And  iu  order  that  this  contagion  may  be  the  more 
easily  extirpated,  you  will  excommunicate  all  prelates, 
religious  orders,  communities,  counts,  dukes,  and 
grandees,  except  the  Emperor  Maximilian,  who  shall 
refuse  to  seize  the  said  Martin  Luther  and  his 
adherents,  and  send  them  to  you,  under  due  and 
sufficient  guard.  And  if  (which  God  forbid)  the  said 
princes,  conimuuities,  universities,  grandees,  or  any 
one  belonging  to  them,  offer  an  asylum  to  the  said 
Martin  and  his  adlierents,  in  any  way,  and  give  him, 
publicly  or  in  secret,  by  themselves  or  others,  aid  and 
counsel,  we  lay  under  interdict  these  princes,  com- 
inunities,  and  grandees,  with  their  towns,  burghs, 
fields,  and  villages,  whither  said  Martin  may  flee,  as 
long  as  he  shall  remain  there,  and  for  three  days  after 
he  shall  have  left." 

Tiiis  audacious  chair,  which  pretends  to  be  the  re- 
presentative on  earth  of  Him  who  has  said,  God  sent 
not  His  Son  into  the  uorld  to  condemn  the  world,  but 
that  the  u-orld  tliiriiif/h  Him  mifiht  he  sared,  continues  its 
anathemas ;  and,  after  having  denounced  penalties 
against  ecclesiastics,  proceeds  : — 

"In  regard  to  the  laitj',  if  tliey  do  not  obey  your 
orders  instantly,  and  without  any  opposition,  we 
declare  them  infamous,  (with  the  exception  of  the 
most  worthy  emperor.)  incapable  of  performing  any 
lawful  act,  deprived  of  Christian  burial,  and  stript  of 
all  fiefs  which  they  may  hold,  whether  of  the  apostolic 
see,  or  of  any  other  superior  whatsoever." 

Such  was  the  fate  which  awaited  Luther.  The 
monarch  of  Rome  has  leagued  for  his  destruction  ;  and 
to  effect  it,  spared  nothing, — not  even  the  peace  of  the 
tomb.  His  ruin  seems  inevitable.  How  will  he 
escape  this  immense  conspiracy  ?  Bnt  Rome  had  mis- 
calculated. A  movement  produced  by  the  Spirit  of 
God  was  not  to  be  quelled  by  the  decrees  of  its 
chancery. 

Even  the  forms  of  a  just  and  impartial  inquest  had 
not  been  observed.  Luther  had  been  declared  heretic, 
not  only  without  having  been  heard,  but  even  before 
the  expiry  of  the  period  named  for  his  compearance. 
The  passions  (and  nowhere  do  they  shew  themselves 
stronger  than  in  religious  discussions)  overleap  all  the 
forms  of  justice.  Strange  proceedings,  in  this  respect, 
occur,  not  only  in  the  Church  of  Rome,  but  in  Pro- 
testant churches  also  which  have  turned  aside  from 
the  Gospel ;  in  other  words,  in  all  places  where  the 
truth  is  not,  every  thing  done  against  the  Gospel  is 
deemed  lawful.  AVe  often  see  men  who,  in  any  other 
case,  would  scruple  to  commit  tlie  smallest  injustice, 
not  hesitating  to  trample  under  foot  all  forms  and  all 
rights  when  the  matter  in  question  is  Christianity,  and 
the  testimony  born  to  it. 

When  Luther  was  afterwards  made  acquainted  with 
this  brief,  he  expressed  his  indignation.  "  Here,"  says 
he,  "  is  the  most  remarkable  part  of  the  whole  affair. 
The  brief  is  dated  on  the  23rd  of  August,  and  I  was 


cited  for  the  7th  of  August ;  so  that  between  the 
citation  and  the  brief  there  is  an  interval  of  sixteen 
days.  Now,  make  the  calculation,  and  you  will  find 
that  my  Lord  Jerome,  bishop  of  Ascoli,  has  pro- 
ceeded against  me,  given  judgment,  condemned,  and 
declared  me  heretic,  beff)rc  tlie  citation  could  have 
reached  me,  or  at  most  sixteen  days  after  it  had  been 
despatched  to  me.  Now,  I  ask,  where  are  the  sixty 
days  given  nic  in  the  citation '!  They  commenced  on 
the  7th  August,  and  were  to  end  on  the  7th  October. 
Is  it  the  style  and  fashion  of  the  court  of  Rome  to 
cite,  admonish,  accuse,  judge,  and  pronounce  sentence 
of  condemnation,  all  in  one  day,  against  a  man  who  is 
at  such  a  tlistance  from  Rome,  that  he  knows  nothing  at 
all  of  the  proceedings  ?  What  answer  would  they  give 
to  this  ?  Doubtless,  they  forgot  to  purge  themselves 
with  helobore  before  proceeding  to  such  falsehoods." 

But  at  the  same  time  tliat  Rome  was  secretly  de- 
positing her  thunders  in  the  hands  of  her  legate,  she 
was  endeavouring,  by  smooth  and  flattering  words,  to 
detach  the  prince  whose  power  she  most  dreaded  from 
Luther's  cause.  The  same  day,  25th  August,  1518, 
the  pope  wrote  the  Elector  of  Saxony.  Recurring  to 
those  wiles  of  ancient  policy  which  we  have  already 
pointed  out,  he  endeavoured  to  flatter  the  prince's 
self-love. 

"  Dear  son,"  said  the  Roman  pontiff,  "  when  we 
think  on  your  noble  and  honourable  race,  and  on  your- 
self, its  head  and  ornament ;  when  we  recollect  how 
you  and  your  ancestors  have  always  desired  to  main- 
tain Christian  faith,  and  the  honour  and  dignity  of  the 
holy  see,  we  cannot  believe  that  a  man  who  abandons 
the  faith  can  trust  to  the  favour  of  your  highness,  in 
giving  loose  reins  to  his  wickedness.  And  yet  it  is 
told  us  from  all  quarters  that  a  certain  friar,  Martin 
Luther,  hermit  of  the  order  of  St.  Augustine,  has, 
like  a  child  of  malice,  and  a  contemner  of  God,  for- 
gotten his  habit  and  his  order,  which  consist  in 
humility  and  obedience,  and  is  boasting  that  he  fears 
neither  the  authority  nor  the  punishment  of  any  man, 
because  assured  of  your  favour  and  protection. 

"But,  as  we  know  that  he  is  mistaken,  we  have 
thought  good  to  write  to  your  highness,  and  exhort 
you,  according  to  the  Lord,  to  be  vigilant  for  the 
honour  of  your  name  as  a  Christian  prince,  and  to  de- 
fend yourself  from  these  calumnies, — ^yourself  the  orna- 
ment, the  glory,  and  sweet  savour  of  your  noble  race, 
— and  to  guard,  not  only  against  a  fault  so  grave  as 
that  which  is  imputed  to  you,  but  also  against  even  the 
suspicion  which  the  insensate  hardihood  of  this  friar 
tends  to  excite  against  you." 

Leo  X.,  at  the  same  time,  announced  to  Frederick 
that  he  had  charged  Cardinal  Saint  Sixtus  to  examine 
the  affair,  and  he  enjoined  him  to  put  Luther  into  the 
hands  of  the  legate,  "  lest,"  added  he,  returning  again 
to  his  favourite  argument, — "  lest  the  pious  people  of 
our  time,  and  of  future  times,  may  one  day  lament  and 
say.  The  most  pernicious  heresy  with  which  the  Church 
of  God  has  been  afflicted,  was  excited  by  the  favour 
and  support  of  this  high  and  honourable  house." 

Thus  Rome  had  taken  all  her  measures.  With  one 
hand  she  diffused  the  perfume  of  praise,  which  is 
always  so  intoxicating,  while  the  other  held  terrors  and 
vengeance. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  EEFOEMATION. 


All  the  powers  of  the  earth — emperor,  pope,  princes, 
and  legates — began  to  move  against  this  humble  friar 
of  Erfurt,  whose  internal  combats  we  have  already 
traced.  The  kings  of  the  earth  stood  vp,  and  the  riders 
took  counsel  together  against  the  Lord,  and  against  His 
anointed. 


CHAPTER  III. 

The  Armourer  Schwarzerd— His  Wife— Philip— His  Genius— His  Studies— 
The  Bible— Call  to  Wittemberg— Melancthon's  Departure  and  Journey 
— Leipsic — Mistake— Luther'B  Joy — Parallel — Revolution  in  Education 
—Study  of  Greek. 

The  letter  and  brief  had  not  reached  Germany,  and 
Luther  was  still  fearing  that  lie  would  be  obliged  to 
appear  at  Eome,  when  a  happy  event  gave  comfort  to 
his  heart.  He  needed  a  friend  to  whom  he  could 
unbosom  his  sorrows,  and  whose  faithful  love  would 
solace  him  in  his  hours  of  depression.  All  this  God 
gave  him  in  Melancthon. 

On  the  14th  February,  1497,  George  Schwarzerd,  a 
skilful  armour-master  of  Bretten,  a  small  town  in  the 
palatinate,  had  a  son  born  to  him,  who  was  named 
Philip,  and  who  afterwards  distinguished  himself  under 
the  name  of  Melancthon.  Patronized  by  the  palatine 
princes,  and  those  of  Bavaria  and  Saxony,  George  was 
a  man  of  unimpeachable  integrity.  He  often  refused 
the  price  which  purchasers  offered  him  ;  and  on  learn- 
ing that  they  were  poor,  insisted  on  returning  their 
money.  He  rose  regularly  at  midnight,  and  on  his 
knees  offered  up  a  prayer.  If  on  any  occasion  morn- 
ing arrived  without  his  having  done  it,  he  felt  dissatis- 
fied with  himself  the  whole  day.  Barbara,  Schwar- 
zerd's  wife,  was  daughter  of  an  honourable  magistrate 
named  John  Reuter.  She  was  of  a  gentle  temper, 
somewhat  inclined  to  superstition,  but  otherwise  re- 
markable for  wisdom  and  prudence.  From  her  we 
have  the  old  well-known  German  rhymes, — 

"The  gi\ing  of  alms  impoverisheth  not ; 
Attendance  at  church  impedeth  not ; 
Greasing  the  wheel  retardeth  not; 
Ill-gotten  gear  enricheth  not ; 
Tlie  Book  of  God  deceiveth  not." 


"  Those  who  are  pleased  more  to  expend 
Than  their  fields  can  render. 
Must  come  to  ruin  in  the  end, — 
It  lu.iy  be  to  a  halter." 

Young  Philip  was  not  eleven  when  his  father  died. 
Two  days  before,  George  called  his  sou  to  his  bedside, 
and  exhorted  him  to  have  the  thought  of  God  always 
present.  "  I  foresee,"  said  the  dying  armourer,  "  that 
dreadful  storms  are  coming  to  shake  the  world.  I 
have  seen  great  things,  but  greater  are  in  preparation. 
May  God  guide  and  direct  you ! "  Philip,  after  receiv- 
ing his  father's  blessing,  was  sent  to  Spire,  that  he 
might  not  be  present  at  his  death.  He  departed  cry- 
ing bitterly. 

The  young  boy's  grandfather,  the  worthy  bailie 
Reuter,  who  had  also  a  son,  acted  as  a  father  to  him. 


and  took  him,  together  with  his  brother,  George,  under 
his  own  roof.  Shortly  after,  he  gave  the  three  boys 
for  tutor  John  Hungarus,  an  excellent  man,  who  after- 
wards, and  at  a  very  advanced  age,  became  a  powerful 
preacher  of  the  Gospel.  He  let  nothing  pass  in  the 
young  mau,  punishing  him  for  every  fault,  yet  with  dis- 
cretion. '-In  this  way,"  says  Melancthon,  in  1554, 
"  he  made  me  a  grammarian.  He  loved  me  as  a  son, 
I  loved  him  as  a  father ;  and  we  will  meet,  I  trust,  in 
eternal  life." 

Philip  was  remarkable  for  the  excellence  of  his 
understanding,  and  for  his  facility  in  learning,  and 
expounding  what  he  had  learned.  He  could  not  endure 
idleness,  and  always  sought  out  some  one  with  whom 
he  might  discuss  what  he  had  heard.  It  often 
happened  that  educated  strangers  passed  through 
Bretten,  and  visited  Reuter.  The  bailie's  grandson 
instantly  accosted  them,  entered  into  conversation  with 
them,  and  so  pressed  them  in  discussion  as  to  excite 
the  wonder  of  those  present.  To  a  powerful  genius 
he  joined  great  sweetness  of  temper,  and  was  hence  a 
general  favourite.  He  had  a  stammer ;  but,  like  the 
celebrated  orator  of  the  Greeks,  made  such  exertions 
to  overcome  it,  that  it  afterwards  completely  dis- 
appeared. 

His  grandfather  having  died,  Philip  was  sent  with 
his  brother  and  his  young  uncle,  John,  to  the  school 
of  Pforzheim.  The  boys  resided  with  one  of  their 
relatives,  the  sister  of  the  famous  Reuchlin.  Eager 
for  knowledge,  Philip,  under  the  tuition  of  George 
Simler,  made  rapid  progress  in  science,  and  especially 
in  the  study  of  Greek,  for  which  he  had  a  real  passion, 
Reuchlin  often  came  to  Pforzheim;  and  having  become 
acquainted  with  his  sister's  young  boarders,  was  soon 
struck  with  Philip's  answers,  and  gave  him  a  Greek 
grammar  and  a  Bible.  These  two  books  were  to  be 
the  study  of  his  whole  life. 

When  Reuchlin  returned  from  his  second  journey 
into  Italy,  his  young  relative,  then  twelve  years  of  age, 
with  some  friends,  performed  a  Latin  comedy  of  his 
own  composition  before  him,  in  honour  of  his  arrival. 
Reuchlin,  in  raptm-es  with  the  talents  of  the  youth, 
embraced  him  tenderly,  called  him  his  dear  son,  and 
jocularly  gave  him  the  red  bonnet  which  he  had  re- 
ceived on  being  made  doctor.  It  was  at  this  time  that 
Reuchlin  changed  his  name  of  Schwarzerd  into  that 
of  Melancthon.  Both  words,  the  one  German  and  the 
other  Greek,  mean  black  earth.  It  was  a  general 
custom  with  the  learned  thus  to  change  their  names 
into  Greek  or  Latin. 

Melancthon,  at  twelve,  repaired  to  the  university  of 
Heidelberg,  and  began  to  gratify  his  eager  thirst  for 
kuowledge.  He  was  admitted  bachelor  at  fourteen. 
In  1512  Reuchlin  invited  him  to  Tubingen,  which 
contained  a  great  number  of  distinguished  literary 
men.  Here  he  attended  at  the  same  time  lectures  on 
theology,  medicine,  and  jurisprudence.  There  was  no 
branch  of  knowledge  which  he  did  not  think  it  his 
duty  to  study.  His  object  was  not  praise,  but  the 
po.ssession  of  science  and  the  benefits  of  it. 

The  Holy  Scriptures  particularly  occupied  him. 
Those  who  frequented  the  church  of  Tubingen  had 
often  observed  a  book  in  his  hands,  which  he  studied 
between  the  services.     This  unknown  volume  seemed 


MELANCTHON'S  ARRIVAL  AT  WITTEMBERG. 


109 


liU'gcr  than  the  common  prayer  books  ;  and  the  report 
spread  tliat  Thilip,  when  in  church,  read  profane 
books.  It  turned  out  that  the  object  of  their  suspicion 
was  a  copy  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  printed  a  short 
time  before  at  Basle  by  John  Frobenius.  This  volume 
he  studied  through  life  with  lunvearied  application. 
He  had  it  always  with  him,  carrying  it  to  all  the 
public  meetings  to  which  he  was  invited.  Eejccting 
the  vain  system  of  the  schoolmen,  he  devoted  himself 
to  the  simple  word  of  the  Gospel.  Erasmus  at  this 
time  wrote  to  CEcolampadius  :  '•  Of  Melancthon  I  have 
the  highest  opinion,  and  the  highest  hopes.  Jesus 
grant  that  this  young  man  may  have  a  long  life  !  He 
will  completely  eclipse  Erasmus."  Melancthon,  never- 
theless, shared  in  the  errors  of  his  age.  '■  I  shudder,'' 
says  he,  in  advanced  life,  "  when  I  think  of  the  honour 
which  I  paid  to  images  when  I  was  still  in  the  papacy." 

In  1514  he  was  made  doctor  in  philosophy,  and 
began  to  teach.  His  age  was  seventeen.  The  grace 
and  attractiveness  which  he  gave  to  his  lectures  formed 
a  striking  contrast  to  the  insipid  method  which  the 
doctors,  and  especially  the  monks,  had  hitherto  pur- 
sued. He  took  an  active  part  in  the  combat  in  which 
Reuchlin  was  engaged  with  the  Obscurants  of  his  age. 
His  agreeable  conversation,  his  gentle  and  elegant 
manners,  gaining  him  the  love  of  all  who  knew  him, 
he  soon  acquired  great  authority,  and  a  solid  reputa- 
tion in  the  world. 

At  this  time,  the  Elector  Frederick  having  conceived 
the  idea  of  inviting  some  distinguished  professor  of 
ancient  languages  to  his  university  of  Wittemberg,  ap- 
plied to  Reuchlin,  who  suggested  Melancthon.  Frede- 
rick saw  all  the  lustre  which  this  young  Hellenist  might 
shed  on  an  institution  which  was  so  dear  to  him  ;  and 
Reuchlin,  delighted  at  seeing  so  fine  a  field  opened  to 
bis  young  friend,  addressed  him  in  the  words  of 
Jehovah  to  Abraham  :  "Come  out  from  thy  country,  and 
thy  kindred,  and  thy  father's  house,  and  I  will  render  thy 
name  great,  and  thou  shall  be  blessed.  Yes,"  continues 
the  old  man,  "  I  hope  it  will  be  so  with  thee,  my  dear 
Philip,  my  work  and  my  comfort."  In  this  invitation 
Melancthon  saw  a  call  from  God.  The  university  was 
grieved  to  part  with  him,  and  yet  he  was  not  without 
envious  rivals  and  enemies.  He  left  his  native  coun- 
try, exclaiming,  "  The  will  of  the  Lord  be  done."  He 
was  then  twenty-one  years  of  age. 

Melancthon  made  the  journey  on  horseback,  in  com- 
pany with  some  Saxon  merchants,  in  the  same  way  in 
which  caravans  travel  in  the  desert ;  for,  sa3's  Reuchlin, 
he  knew  neither  the  towns  nor  the  roads.  At  Augs- 
burg he  did  homage  to  the  e'.cctor,  who  happened  to 
be  there.  At  ^Nuremberg  he  saw  the  excellent  Pirck- 
heimer,  whom  he  already  knew  ;  and  at  Leipsic  formed 
an  intimacy  with  the  learned  Hellenist,  Mosellanus. 
In  this  last  town  the  university  gave  a  fete  in  honour 
of  him.  It  was  a  truly  academic  repast.  The  dishes 
were  numerous ;  and  as  each  made  its  appearance,  a 
professor  rose  and  addressed  Melancthon  in  a  Latin  dis- 
course previously  prepared.  He  immediately  gave  an 
extempore  reply.  At  length,  worn  out  with  so  much 
eloquence,  "  Most  illustrious  friends,"  said  he,  "  allow 
me  to  reply  once  for  all  to  your  addresses  ;  for  not  be- 
ing prepared,  I  cannot  put  as  miicii  variety  into  my 
replies  as  you  into  your  addresses."     Thereafter  the 


dishes  arrived  without  the  accompaniment  of  a  dis- 
course. 

Rcuchlin's  young  relative  arrived  at  Wittemberg, 
25th  August,  1518,  two  days  after  Leo  X.  had  signed 
the  brief  addressed  to  Cajetan,  and  the  letter  to  the 
elector. 

The  professors  of  Wittemberg  did  not  receive  Me- 
lancthon with  so  much  favour  as  those  of  Leipsic  had 
done.  The  first  impression  which  he  made  upon  them 
did  not  correspond  to  their  expectations.  They  saw  a 
young  man  who  seemed  still  younger  than  he  really 
was,  of  small  stature,  and  a  feeble,  timid  air.  Is  this 
the  illustrious  doctor  whom  the  greatest  men  of  the 
age,  Erasmus  and  Reuchlin,  extol  so  loudly?  .  .  . 
Neither  Luther,  with  whom  he  first  was  m'ade  ac- 
quainted, nor  his  colleagues,  conceived  high  hopes  of 
him,  when  they  saw  his  youth,  his  embarrassment,  and 
whole  appearance. 


i^Fromtht  original  by  j 


I  tlie  British  Portrait  GalUri/.) 


Four  days  after  his  arrival  (•29th  August)  he  deli- 
vered his  inaugural  address.  The  whole  university 
was  assembled.  The  boy,  as  Luther  calls  him,  spoke 
such  elegant  Latin,  and  displayed  so  much  knowledge, 
a  mind  so  cultivated,  and  a  judgment  so  sound,  that 
all  his  hearers  were  filled  with  admiration. 

At  the  termination  of  the  address  all  pressed  for- 
ward to  congratulate  him  ;  but  none  felt  more  joy  than 
Luther,  who  hastened  to  communicate  to  his  friends  the 
feelings  with  which  his  heart  was  overflowing.  Writ- 
ing Spalatin,  31st  August,  he  says:  "Melancthon,  four 
days  after  his  arrival,  delivered  an  address  so  beautiful 
and  so  learned,  that  it  was  listened  to  with  universal 
approbation  and  astonishment.  We  have  soon  got  the 
better  of  the  prejudices  which  his  stature  and  personal 
appearauce  had  produced.  We  praise  and  admire  his 
eloquence ;  we  thank  the  prince  and  you  for  the  service 
you  have  done  us.  I  ask  no  other  Greek  master.  But 
I  fear  that  his  delicate  body  will  not  be  able  to  digest 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


our  food,  and  that,  on  account  of  the  sraallness  of  his 
salary,  we  shall  not  keep  him  long.  I  hear  that  the 
Leipsic  folks  are  already  boasting  of  being  able  to 
carry  him  off  from  us.  Oh,  my  dear  Spalatin,  beware 
of  despisin.g  his  age  and  personal  appearance.  He  is 
a  man  worthy  of  all  honour." 

Melancthon  immediately  began  to  explain  Homer 
and  St.  Paul's  Epistle  to  Titus.  He  was  full  of  ardour. 
'•  I  will  do  my  utmost,"  wrote  he  to  Spalatin,  "  to  bring 
Wittemberg  into  favour  with  all  who  love  literature 
and  virtue."  Four  days  after  the  inauguration,  Luther 
again  wrote  to  Spalatin :  " I  recommend  to  jou  most 
particularly  the  very  learned  and  very  amiable  Greek, 
Philip.  His  class-room  is  always  full.  All  the  theo- 
logians, in  particular,  attend  him.  He  sets  all  classes, 
from  the  highest  to  the  lowest,  to  the  learning  of 
Greek." 

Melancthon  was  able  to  return  the  affection  of 
Luther,  in  whom  he  soon  discovered  a  goodness  of 
heart,  a  strength  of  intellect,  a  courage  and  a  wisdom, 
which  he  had  not  jireviously  found  in  any  man.  He 
venerated  and  loved  him.  "  If  there  is  any  one,"  said 
he,  "whom  I  love  strongly,  and  whom  ray  whole  soul 
embraces,  it  is  Martin  Luther." 

Thus  met  Luther  and  Melancthon,  and  they  were 
friends  till  death.  We  cannot  sufficiently  admire  the 
goodness  and  wisdom  of  God  in  uniting  two  men  so 
different,  and  yet  so  necessary  to  each  other.  What 
Luther  had  in  warmth,  elasticity,  and  force,  Melanc- 
thon had  in  perspicuity,  wisdom,  and  gentleness. 
Luther  animated  Melancthon  ;  Melancthon  moderated 
Luther.  They  were  like  the  two  forms  of  electric  mat- 
ter— the  positive  and  the  negative — which  modify  each 
other.  Had  Luther  been  without  Melancthon,  the 
stream  had,  perhaps,  overflowed  its  banks  ;  and,  on  the 
other  hand,  Melancthon,  when  without  Luther,  hesi- 
tated, and  even  yielded,  where  he  ought  to  have  stood 
firm.'  Luther  did  much  by  vigour,  and  Melancthon, 
perhaps,  did  not  less  by  pursuing  a  slower  and  calmer 
course.  Both  were  upright,  open,  and  genei-ous,  and 
both,  smitten  with  the  love  of  the  Word  of  eternal  life, 
served  it  with  a  fidelity  and  devotedness  which  formed 
the  distinguishing  feature  of  their  lives. 

The  arrival  of  Melancthon  produced  a  revolution, 
not  only  at  Wittemberg,  but  throughout  Germany 
and  the  learned  world.  His  study  of  the  Greek  and 
Latin  classics,  and  of  philosophy,  had  given  him  an 
order,  perspicuity,  and  precision  of  thought,  which 
shed  new  light  and  inexpressible  beauty  on  all  the 
subjects  which  he  discussed.  The  mild  spirit  of  the 
Gospel  fertilized  and  enlivened  his  meditations;  and 
the  driest  subjects,  when  he  expounded  them,  were 
invested  with  a  grace  which  fascinated  all  his  hearers. 
The  sterility  which  scholasticism  had  spread  over 
education  ceased,  and  a  new  mode  of  instruction  and 
study  commenced.  "  Thanks  to  Melancthon,"  says  a 
distinguished  German  historian,  "  Wittemberg  became 
the  national  school." 

It  was,  indeed,  of  gi-eat  importance  that  a  man 
thoroughly  versed  in  Greek  should  teach  in  this  uni- 
versity, where  the  new  developments  of  theology  called 

J  Calvin  mote  to  Sleidan :  "  May  the  Lord  supply  him  witli  a  more  reso- 
lute spirit,  that  posterity  may  uot,  through  his  timidity,  sustain  some 
grievous  loss." 


masters  and  scholars  to  study  the  primitive  documents 
of  the  Christian  faith  in  the  original  languages. 
Thenceforth  Luther  set  himself  zealously  to  this  task. 
Often  did  the  meaning  of  a  Greek  term,  which  had 
previously  been  unknown  to  him,  throw  sudden  light 
on  his  theological  views.  For  example,  how  great  his 
satisfaction  and  delight  when  he  saw  that  the  Greek 
word  which,  according  to  the  Latin  Church,  meant  a 
penance,  a  satisfaction  enacted  by  the  Church,  meant 
in  Greek  a  transformation  or  conversion  of  heart.  A 
thick  mist  all  at  once  disappeared  from  before  his 
eyes.  The  two  meanings  given  to  this  word  are 
suificient  to  characterize  the  two  churches. 

The  impulse  which  Melancthon  gave  to  Luther,  in 
regard  to  the  translation  of  the  Bible,  is  one  of  the 
most  remarkable  circumstances  in  the  friendship  of 
these  two  great  men.  As  early  as  1517,  Luther  had 
made  some  attempts  at  translation,  and  procured  as 
many  Greek  and  Latin  books  as  he  could.  Now, 
aided  by  his  dear  Philip,  his  task  received  a  new 
impetus.  Luther  obliged  Melancthon  to  take  part  in 
his  researches,  by  consulting  him  on  difficult  passages; 
and  the  work,  destined  to  be  one  of  the  greatest  works 
of  the  reformer,  advanced  more  surely  and  more 
rapidly. 

Melaucthou,  on  his  part,  became  acquainted  with  a 
new  theology.  The  beautiful  and  profound  doctrine 
of  justification  by  faith  filled  him  with  astonishment 
and  joy.  Still,  in  receiving  the  system  Luther  pro- 
fessed, he  acted  independently,  moulding  it  according 
to  the  particular  form  of  his  own  intellect;  for, 
although  he  was  only  twenty-one  years  of  age,  he  was 
one  of  those  precocious  minds  which  enter  early  into 
possession  of  all  their  powers,  and  are  themselves  from 
the  very  outset. 

The  zeal  of  the  masters  was  soon  transfused  into 
the  scholars.  It  was  proposed  to  reform  the  course 
of  study.  With  the  conciu-rence  of  the  elector,  certain 
branches,  only  of  scholastic  importance,  were  sup- 
pressed, and  at  the  same  time  a  new  impulse  was 
given  to  classic  pursuits.  The  school  of  Wittemberg 
imderwent  a  transformation,  and  the  contrast  between 
it  and  other  universities  became  still  more  prominent. 
Still,  however,  the  landmarks  of  the  Church  were 
observed,  though  all  felt  that  they  were  on  the  eve  of 
a  great  battle  with  the  pope. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Sentiments  of  Luther  and  Staupitz— Order  to  Appear— Alarms  and  Courage 
—The  Elector  with  the  Legate— Departure  for  Augsburg— Sojourn  at 
Weimar— Nuremberg. 

TuE  arrival  of  Melancthon,  doubtless,  gave  a  pleasant 
turn  to  Luther's  thoughts  at  this  very  critical  moment; 
and  doubtless,  in  the  sweet  intercourse  of  growing 
friendship,  and  amid  the  biblical  labours  to  which  he 
devoted  himself  with  new  zeal,  he  sometimes  forgot 
Prierio,  Leo,  and  the  ecclesiastical  court  before  which 
he  behoved  to  plead.  Still,  these  were  only  fleeting 
moments,  and  his  thoughts  were  ever  recurring  to  the 


AI.ARMS  AND  COURAGE. 


Ill 


formidable  tribunal  before  which  implacable  euemies 
had  summoned  hiui  to  appear.  What  terrors  would 
not  this  thought  have  thrown  into  a  mind  which  was 
seekiug  aught  else  than  the  truth!  But  Luther 
trembled  not !  Confiding  fully  in  the  faithfulness 
aud  power  of  God,  he  remained  firm ;  and  was  quite 
ready  to  expose  himself,  single-handed,  to  the  rage  of 
enemies  mightier  than  those  who  had  lighted  the  fire 
for  John  IIuss. 

A  few  days  after  the  arrival  of  Melancthon,  and 
before  the  pope's  resolution  transferring  the  citsition 
of  Luther  from  Home  to  Augsburg  could  be  known, 
Luther  vrvoto  Spalatin :  "  I  ask  not  our  sovereign  to 
do  anything  whatever  for  the  defence  of  my  theses. 
I  am  willing  to  be  delivered  up  and  thrown  single  into 
the  bauds  of  my  adversaries.  Let  him  allow  the 
whole  storm  to  burst  upon  me.  What  I  have  under- 
taken to  defend,  I  hope  I  shall  be  able,  with  the 
I  assistance  of  Christ,  to  maintain.  Violence,  indeed, 
must  be  submitted  to;  but  still  without  abandoning 
'    the  truth." 

'       The  courage  of  Luther  communicated  itself  to  others. 
Men  of  the  greatest  gentleness  aud  timidity,  ou  seeing 
the  danger  which  threatened  the  witness  for  the  truth, 
fouud   words   full   of   energy  and    indignation.     The 
prudent  and  pacific  Staupitz,  on  the  7th  September, 
!   wrote  to  Spalatin:  "Cease  not  to  exhort  the  prince, 
your  master  and  mine,  not  to  be  alarmed  at  the  roaring 
of  the  lions.     Let  him  defend  the  truth  without  troub- 
ling himself  about  Luther,  or  Staupitz,  or  the  order. 
Let  there  be  a  place  where  men  can  speak  freely  and 
'.   without  fear.     I  know  that  the  plague  of  Babylon  (I 
had  almost  said  of  Rome)  breaks  forth  agaiust  all  who 
I   attack  the  abuses  of  those  traffickers  in  Jesus  Christ. 
I  have  myself  seen  a  preacher  of  the  truth  thrown 
headlong  from  the  pulpit ;  I  have  seen  him,  though  on 
,   a  festival,  bound  and  dragged  to  a  dungeon.     Others 
I   have  seen  still  greater  cruelties.     Therefore,  my  dear 
I   friend,  strive  to  make  his  highness  persevere  in  his 
1   sentiments." 

,       The  order  to  appear  at  Augsburg  before  the  cardinal 
I   legate  at  length  arrived.     Luther  had  now  to  do  with 
one  of  the  princes  of  the  Church.     All  his  friends  en- 
j   treated  him  not  to  go.     They  feared  that  on  the  jour- 
I   ncy  snares  might  be  laid  for  him,  and  an  attempt  made 
!    on  his  life.     Some  employed  themselves  in  looking  out 
I    for  an  asylum  to  him.     Staupitz   himself,   the  timid 
Staupitz,  felt  moved  at  the   thought  of   the  dangers 
which  threatened  that  friar  Martin  whom  he  had  drawn 
from  the  obscurity  of  the  cloister,  and  placed  on  the 
troubled  stage  where  his  life  was  now  in  peril.     Ah  ! 
would  it  not  have  been  better  if  the  poor  friar  had 
j    remained  for  ever  unknown  1     It  was  too  late.     Still, 
I    at  least,  he  would  do  everything  to  save  him.     Accord- 
ingly, on  the  15th  September,  he  wrote  him  from  his 
convent  of  Salzbourg,  urging  him  to  tiee,  and  seek  an 
1    asylum  beside  himself.     "  It  seems  to  me,"  said  he, 
j    "that  the  whole  world  is   enraged,  and  in  coalition 
I    against  the  truth.    In  the  same  way  crucified  Jesus 
j    was  hated.     I  see  not  that  you  have  anything  to  expect 
but  persecution.     Shortly,  no  man  will  be  able,  with- 
out the  permission  of  the  pope,  to  sound  the  Scriptures, 
and  search  for  Jesus  Christ  in  them,  though  this  Christ 
himself  enjoins.     You  have  only  a  few  friends ;  and 


would  to  God  that  the  fear  of  your  adversaries  did  not 
prevent  those  few  from  declaring  in  your  favour.  The 
wisest  course  is  to  quit  AVittemberg  for  a  time,  and 
come  to  me.  Thus  we  will  live  aud  die  together. 
This  i.j  also  the  prince's  opinion,"  adds  Staupitz. 

From  different  quarters  Luther  received  the  most 
alarming  notices.  Count  Albert,  of  Mansfehl,  sent  a 
message  to  him  to  beware  of  setting  out,  for  some 
great  barons  had  sworn  to  make  themselves  masters  of 
his  person,  and  to  strangle  or  drown  him.  But  nothing 
could  deter  him.  He  never  thought  of  availing  him- 
self of  the  vicar-general's  offer.  He  will  uot  go  and 
hide  himself  in  the  obscurity  of  the  convent  of  Salz- 
bourg, but  will  faithfully  remain  on  the  stormy  scene 
ou  which  the  hand  of  God  has  placed  him.  It  is  by 
persevering  in  the  face  of  adversaries,  and  proclaiming 
the  truth  with  loud  voice  in  the  midst  of  the  world, 
that  the  reign  of  truth  advances.  Why,  then,  should  he 
flee  ?  He  is  not  one  of  "  those  who  draw  back  to  per- 
dition ;  but  of  those  who  believe  to  the  saving  of  the 
soul."  The  words  of  the  Master  whom  he  serves,  and 
loves  better  than  life,  are  incessantly  echoing  in  his 
heart :  Whosoever  uill  confess  me  before  men,  him  will  I 
also  confess  before  my  Father  who  is  in  heaven.  In 
Luther  and  in  the  Reformation  we  uniformly  meet  with 
that  intrepid  courage,  that  high-toned  morality,  that 
boundless  charity,  which  the  first  preaching  of  Chris- 
tianity manifested  to  the  world.  "  I  am  like  Jeremiah," 
says  Luther,  at  the  period  of  which  we  are  now  speak- 
ing,— "  Jeremiah,  the  man  of  quarrel  and  discord  ;  but 
the  more  they  multiply  their  menaces  the  more  they 
increase  my  joy.  My  wife  and  children  are  well  pro- 
vided, [of  course,  meaning  he  had  none ;]  my  fields,  my 
houses,  and  all  my  goods,  are  in  order.  They  have 
already  torn  my  honour  and  my  reputation  to  shreds. 
The  only  thing  left  me  is  my  poor  body,  and  let  them 
take  it ;  they  will  only  shorten  my  life  some  few  hours. 
My  soul  they  cannot  take  from  me.  He  who  would 
publish  the  word  of  Christ  in  the  world  must  expect 
death  every  hour ;  for  our  bridegroom  is  a  bridegroom 
of  blood." 

The  elector  was  then  at  Augsburg.  A  short  time 
before  quitting  that  towu  after  the  diet,  he  had,  of  his 
own  accord,  paid  a  visit  to  the  legate.  The  cardinal, 
greatly  flattered  by  this  mark  of  respect  from  so  illus- 
trious a  prince,  promised  that  if  the  monk  presented 
himself  he  would  listen  to  him  like  a  father,  and  kindly 
dismiss  him.  Spalatin,  on  the  part  of  the  prince,  -svTote 
to  his  friend  that  the  pope  had  named  a  commission  to 
try  him  in  Germany;  that  the  elector  would  not  allow 
him  to  be  dragged  to  Rome ;  aud  that  he  must  prepare 
to  set  out  for  Augsbiu-g.  Luther  resolved  to  obey; 
but  the  warning  which  he  had  received  from  Count 
Mansfeld  made  him  apply  to  Frederick  for  a  safe-con- 
duct. Frederick  replied  that  it  was  unnecessary,  and 
merely  gave  him  recommendations  to  some  of  the  lead- 
ing counsellors  of  Augsburg.  He  also  sent  him  some 
money  for  the  jom-ney.  The  reformer,  poor  and  de- 
fenceless, set  out  ou  foot  to  place  himself  in  the  hands 
of  his  adversaries. 

What  must  have  been  his  feelings  on  quitting 
Wittemberg,  and  directing  his  steps  towards  Augs- 
burg, where  the  legate  of  the  pope  was  waiting  for 
him  !     The  object  of  this  journey  was  not  like  that  of 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


Heidelberg,  a  friendly  meetiii?.  He  was  going  to 
appear  in  presence  of  the  legate  of  Rome  without  a 
safe-conduct;  perhaps  he  was  going  to  death.  But 
in  him  faith  was  not  a  mere  matter  of  show.  Being  a 
reality,  it  gave  him  peace ;  and,  in  the  name  of  the 
Lord  of  Hosts,  he  could  advance  without  fear  to  bear 
testimony  to  the  Gospel. 

He  arrived  at  Weimar  on  the  28th  of  September, 


and  lodged  in  the  convent  of  the  Cordeliers.  One  of 
tlie  monks  was  unable  to  withdraw  his  eyes  from  him. 
It  was  Myconius.     This  was  the  first  time  he  had  seen 


Luther ;  and  he  longed  to  approach  him,  and  tell  that 
he  owed  the  peace  of  his  soul  to  him,  and  that  his 


whole  desire  was  to  labour  with  him.  But  Myconius, 
being  closely  watched  by  his  superiors,  was  not  per- 
mitted to  speak  to  Luther. 

The  Elector  of  Saxony  was  then  holding  his  court 
at  Weimar,  and  this  is  probably  the  reason  why  the 
Cordeliers  gave  admittance  to  the  doctor.  The  day 
after  his  arrival,  the  feast  of  St.  Michael  was  cele- 
brated. Luther  said  mass,  and  was  even  invited  to 
preach  in  the  church  of  the  castle.  It  was  a  mark  of 
favour  which  the  prince  wished  to  give  him.  He, 
accordingly,  in  presence  of  the  court,  preached  a  long 
sermon,  on  the  text  of  the  day,  which  is  taken  from 
the  Gospel  of  St.  Matthew,  (chap,  xviii.  1-11.)  He 
spoke  forcibly  against  hypocrites,  and  those  who  boast 
of  their  own  righteousness ;  but  he  did  not  speak  of 
the  angels,  though  this  was  the  customary  topic  on 
St.  Michael's  day. 

The  courage  of  the  doctor  of  Wittemberg,  in  calmly 
setting  out  on  foot  to  obey  a  summons,  which,  in  the 
case  of  so  many  before  him,  had  issued  in  death, 
astonished  those  who  saw  him.  Interest,  admiration, 
and  compassion,  succeeded  each  other  in  their  minds. 
John  Kestner,  superintendent  to  the  Cordeliers,  alarmed 
at  the  idea  of  the  dangers  which  awaited  his  guest, 
said  to  him,  "Brother,  you  will  find  at  Augsburg 
Italians,  men  of  learning,  and  subtle  antagonists,  who 
will  give  you  much  to  do.  I  fear  you  will  not  be  able 
to  defend  your  cause  against  them.  They  will  cast 
you  into  the  fire,  and  with  their  flames  consume  you." 
Luther  replied  gravely:  "Dear  friend,  pray  to  our 
Lord  God,  who  is  in  heaven,  and  present  a  jiuter  nosier 
for  me,  and  His  dear  child,  Jesus,  whose  cause  my 
cause  is,  that  He  may  be  gracious  toward  me.  If  He 
maintain  His  cause,  mine  is  maintained.  But  if  He 
pleases  not  to  maintain  it,  assuredly  it  is  not  I  who 
can  maintain  it ;  and  it  is  He 
who  will  bear  the  aiYront." 

Luther  continued  his  jour- 
ney on    foot,  and   arrived  at 
Nuremberg.     He   was    going 
to    present   himself    before  a 
prince    of    the    Church,    and 
wished  his   dress  to  be  suit- 
able; but  his  clothes  were  old, 
and,     besides,     had     suffered 
much    by   the    journey.      He 
borrowed    a    frock    from    his 
faithful     friend,     Winceslaus 
Link,  preacher  at  Nuremberg. 
Luther,   doubtless,   did   not 
confine  his  visit  to  Link;  but 
•—  also  saw  his  other  friends  in 
J   ^  Nuremberg,  secretaiy  Scheur), 
|(t  '  the  celebrated  painter,  Albert 

I  Durer,  to  whom  Nuremberg  is 

I I  (If  now    erecting    a    statue,   and 
'"'    many  others.    He  strengthened  . 

himself  by  intercourse  with 
the  excellent  of  the  earth, 
while  many  monks  and  laymen 
expressed  alarm,  and  endea- 
voured to  shake  him  by  repre- 
senting the  difiicnlties  in  his  way.  Letters  which 
he  wrote  from  this  town  shew  the  spirit  by  which 


''•^illf 


LUTHER'S  ARRIVAL  AT  AUGSBURG. 


113 


ho  was  animated.  '•  I  have  met,"  s.iys  he,  '-with 
pusillaniraous  men,  who  -would  persuade  mo  not  to  go 
to  Augsburg ;  but  I  liavc  determined  on  going.  The 
will  of  the  Lord  be  done.  Even  at  jVugsburg,  even  in 
the  midst  of  His  eucmies,  Jesus  Christ  reigns.  Lot 
Christ  live ;  let  Luther  and  every  sinner  die.  Accord- 
ing as  it  is  written  :  "  Lot  the  God  of  my  salvation  be 
exalted  !  Behave  well,  persevere,  stand  firm  ;  for  we 
must  not  be  reproved  either  by  men  or  by  God ;  God 
is  true,  and  man  a  liar." 

Link  and  an  Augustine  monk  could  not  consent  to 
allow  Ltither  to  travel  alone  and  meet  tlie  dangers 
which  threatened  him.  They  were  acquainted  with 
bis  bold  and  fearless  character,  and  suspected  he  would 
fail  in  due  precaution.  They,  therefore,  accompanied 
him.  When  they  were  about  five  leagues  from  Augs- 
burg, Luther,  exhausted,  no  doubt,  by  the  fatigue  of 
travelling,  and  the  varied  emotions  of  his  heart,  was 
seized  with  violent  pains  in  the  stomach.  He  thought 
he  was  dying ;  and  his  friends,  becoming  very  uneasy, 
hired  a  car  to  transport  him.  They  arrived  at  Augs- 
burg on  the  evening  of  Frida)',  the  7th  of  October, 
and  lighted  at  the  Augustine  convent,  Luther  was 
greatly  fatigued,  but  soon  recovered, — his  faith  and 
mental  energy  speedily  recruiting  his  exhausted  body. 


CHAPTER  V. 

Arrival  at  Augsburg— De  Vio— His  Character — Sen-a-Longa — Preliminary 
Conversation— Visit  of  the  Councilloi-s— Return  of  Scrra-Longa— The 
Prior— Luther's  Wisdom — Luther  and  Serra-Longa— The  Safe-Conduct 
—Luther  to  Mclancthon. 

The  instant  he  was  at  Augsburg,  and  before  he  had 
seen  any  one,  Luther,  wishing  to  pay  all  due  respect 
to  the  legate,  begged  Winceslaus  Link  to  go  and  an- 
nounce his  arrival.  Link  did  so,  and  humbly  declared 
to  the  cardinal,  on  the  part  of  the  doctor  of  "Wittem- 
berg,  that  he  was  ready  to  appear  at  his  order.  The 
legate  was  delighted  with  the  news.  At  last  he  had  a 
hold  of  this  boisterous  heretic,  who,  he  assured  him- 
self, would  not  quit  the  walls  of  Augsburg  as  he  had 
entered.  At  the  same  time,  when  Link  went  to  the 
legate,  the  monk  Leonard  set  out  to  announce  Luther's 
arrival  to  Staupitz.  The  vicar-general  had  written  the 
doctor,  that  he  would  certainly  come  as  soon  as  he 
should  know  of  his  being  in  the  town,  and  Luther 
was  unwilling  to  lose  an  instant  in  giving  him  in- 
timation. 

The  diet  was  closed,  and  the  emperor  and  the 
electors  had  already  separated.  The  emperor,  it  is 
true,  had  not  left,  but  was  hunting  in  the  neighbour- 
hood. The  5-mbassador  of  Rome  was  thus  at  Augs- 
burg alone.  Had  Luther  come  during  the  diet,  he 
would  have  found  powerful  protectors ;  but  now  it 
seemed  that  everything  must  bend  under  the  weight  of 
papal  authority. 

The  name  of  the  judge  before  whom  Luther  had 
to  appear  was  not  fitted  to  increase  his  confidence. 
Thomas  de  Vio,  surnamed  Cajetan.  from  the  town  of 
Gaeta,  in  the  kingdom  of  Naples,  where  he  was  born, 


had,  from  his  youth,  given  great  hopes.  Having  at 
sixteen  entered  the  Dominican  order,  against  the  ex- 
press wish  of  his  parents,  ho  afterwards  became  general 
of  his  order,  and  a  cardinal  of  the  Roman  Church. 
But  what  was  worse  for  Luther,  this  learned  doctor 
was  one  of  the  most  zealous  defenders  of  the  scholastic 
theology,  which  the  reformer  had  always  treated  so 
unmercifully.  His  mother  was  said  to  have  dreamt 
during  her  pregnancy,  that  St.  Thomas  would  in  per- 
son educate  the  child  to  which  she  was  to  give  birth, 
and  introduce  him  to  heaven.  Hence  De  Vio,  on  be- 
coming Dominican,  had  changed  his  name  from  James 
to  Thomas.  lie  had  zealously  defended  the  preroga- 
tives of  the  papacy,  and  the  doctrines  of  Thomas 
Aquinas,  whom  he  regarded  as  the  most  perfect  of 
theologians.  A  lover  of  pomp  and  show,  he  almost 
gave  a  literal  meaning  to  the  Roman  maxim,  that 
legates  are  above  kings,  and  surrounded  himself  with 
great  state.  On  the  1st  of  August,  ho  had  celebrated 
a  solemn  mass  in  the  cathedral  of  Augsburg,  and  in 
presence  of  all  the  princes  of  the  empire,  had  placed 
the  cardinal's  hat  on  the  head  of  the  Archbishop  of 
Mentz  while  kneeling  before  the  altar,  and  had  de- 
livered to  the  emperor  himself  the  hat  and  sword  con- 
secrated by  the  pope.  Such  was  the  man  before  whom 
the  monk  of  Wittemberg  was  going  to  appear,  clothed 
in  a  frock  which  was  not  even  his  own.  Besides,  the 
acquirements  of  the  legate,  the  austerity  of  his  disposi- 
tion, and  the  purity  of  his  morals,  gave  him  in  Ger- 
many an  influence  and  authority  which  other  Roman 
courtiers  would  not  have  easily  obtained.  To  this 
reputation  for  sanctity  he  doubtless  owed  his  mission. 
Rome  saw  that  he  would  serve  her  purposes  admirably. 
Thus  the  personal  qualities  of  Cajetan  made  him  still 
more  formidable.  Moreover,  the  business  entrusted  to 
him  was  not  complicated.  Luther  had  already  been 
declared  a  heretic.  If  he  refused  to  retract,  the  duty 
of  the  legate  was  to  put  him  in  prison ;  or,  if  he 
escaped,  to  launch  excommunication  at  every  one  who 
should  dare  to  give  him  an  asylum.  This  was  all  that 
Rome  required  to  be  done  by  the  legate  before  whom 
Luther  was  cited. 

Luther  had  recovered  strength  dui-ing  the  night,  and 
on  Saturday  morning,  8th  October,  being  somewhat 
rested  from  his  journey,  began  to  consider  his  strange 
situation.  He  felt  resigned,  and  waited  till  the  will  of 
God  should  be  manifested  by  the  event.  He  had  not 
long  to  wait.  A  personage  who  was  unknown  to  him 
sent  in  a  message,  as  if  he  had  been  entirely  devoted 
to  his  service,  to  say  that  he  was  coming  to  wait  upon 
him;  and  that  Luther  must  take  good  care  not  to 
appear  before  the  legate  without  having  seen  him. 
This  message  came  from  an  Italian  named  LTrban,  of 
Serra-Longa,  who  had  often  been  in  Germany  as  en\'oy 
of  the  Margrave  of  Montferrat.  He  was  known  to  the 
Elector  of  Saxony,  to  whom  he  had  been  accredited, 
and  after  the  death  of  the  margrave,  had  attached 
himself  to  Cardinal  de  Vio. 

The  finesse  and  manners  of  this  man  formed  a  very 
striking  contrast  to  the  noble  frankness  and  generous 
integrity  of  Luther.  The  Italian  shortly  after  arrived 
at  the  Augustine  convent.  The  cardinal  had  sent  him 
to  sound  the  reformer,  and  prepare  him  for  the  retrac- 
tation which  he  was  expected  to  make.     Serra-Longa 


114 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


imagined  that  his  residence  in  Germany  gave  him  great 
advantages  over  the  other  courtiers  in  the  suite  of  the 
legate,  and  he  hoped  to  have  good  sport  with  the  Ger- 
man monk. 

He  arrived  attended  by  two  servants,  and  pretended 
to  have  come  of  his  own  accord,  because  of  the  friend- 
ship which  he  felt  for  a  favourite  of  the  Elector  of 
Saxony,  and  because  of  his  attachment  to  the  holy 
Church.  After  paying  Lis  respects  to  Luther  in  the 
warmest  terms,  the  diplomatist  added,  in  an  affectionate 
manner : 

"I  come  to  give  yon  sage  and  good  advice.  Ee- 
attach  yourself  to  the  Church.  Submit  unreservedly 
to  the  cardinal.  Retract  your  injurious  expressions. 
Eemember  the  Abbot  Joachim  of  Florence.  He,  you 
know,  had  said  heretical  things,  and  yet  was  declared 
not  heretical,  because  he  retracted  his  errors." 

Luther  spoke  of  defending  himself. 

Serra-Lonrja. — "  Beware  of  doing  so !  .  .  .  . 
"Would  you  pretend  to  fight  with  the  legate  of-  his 
holiness,  as  if  you  were  tilting  at  a  tournay  I" 

Luther. — "  When  it  is  proved  that  I  have  taught 
anything  contrary  to  the  Roman  Church,  I  will  pass 
judgment  on  myself,  and  retract  instantly.  The  whole 
question  will  be,  whether  the  legate  leans  more  upon 
St.  Thomas  than  the  faith  authorizes  him  to  do  ?  If 
he  does,  I  will  not  yield  to  him." 

Serm-Lonya. — "Ah!  ah!  Do  you  pretend,  then. 
to  break  lances  1" 

Then  the  Italian  began  to  say  things  which  Luther 
designates  horrible.  He  pretended  that  false  proposi- 
tions might  be  maintained,  provided  they  jn-oduced 
money  and  filled  the  strong  box ;  that  the  universities 
must  take  good  care  not  to  dispute  on  the  authority  of 
the  pope ;  that  their  duty,  on  the  contrary,  was  to 
maintain  that  the  pope  can,  at  his  beck,  alter  or  sup- 
press articles  of  faith, — adding  other  things  of  the 
same  nature.  But  the  wily  Italian  soon  perceived  that 
he  was  forgetting  himself.  Returning  to  soft  words, 
he  strove  to  persuade  Luther  to  submit  to  the  legate  in 
everything,  and  retract  his  doctrines,  his  oaths,  and 
his  theses. 

The  doctor,  who,  at  the  outset,  had  given  some 
credit  to  the  fine  protestations  of  orator  Urban,  (as  he 
designates  him  in  his  account  of  the  interview,)  was 
now  convinced  that  they  were  of  very  little  value, 
and  that  Serra-Longa  was  much  more  on  the  legate's 
side  than  on  his.  He,  therefore,  became  less  communi- 
cative, and  contented  himself  with  saying  that  he  was 
quite  disposed  to  exercise  humility,  give  proof  of 
obedience,  and  make  satisfaction  in  whatever  matters 
he  had  been  mistaken.  At  these  words  Serra-Longa, 
overjoyed,  exclaimed :  "  I  am  off  to  the  legate,  and 
you  will  follow  me ;  everything  will  go  oif  most  ad- 
mirably ;  it  will  be  soon  finished.     .     .     ." 

He  went  off.  The  Saxon  monk,  who  had  more 
discernment  than  the  Roman  courtier,  thought  within 
himself :  "  This  wily  Sinon  has  come  along  ill  prc- 
prepared  and  ill  instructed  by  his  Greeks."  Luther 
was  suspended  between  hope  and  fear ;  hope,  however, 
predominating.  The  visit  and  the  strange  assertions 
of  Serra-Longa,  whom,  at  a  later  period,  he  calls  au 
inexpert  mediator,  made  him  resume  courage. 

The  councillors  and  other  inhabitants  of  Augsburg, 


to  whom  the  elector  had  recommended  Luther,  hastened 
to  visit  the  monk,  whose  name  was  now  resoundin" 
throughout  all  Germany.  Peutinger,  councillor  of 
the  empire,  who  was  one  of  the  most  distinguished 
patricians  of  the  town,  and  often  invited  Luther  to  his 
table,  councillor  Langemantel,  Dr.  Auerbach  of  Leipsic, 
the  two  brothers  Adelmann,  both  canons,  and  several 
others  besides,  repaired  to  the  convent  of  the 
Augustines,  and  gave  a  cordial  welcome  to  the  extra- 
ordinary man,  who  had  journeyed  so  far  to  come  and 
place  himself  in  the  hands  of  the  creatures  of  Rome. 
'•  Have  you  a  safe-conduct  ?"  they  asked. — '•  No !"  re- 
plied the  intrepid  monk.  "What  hardihood!"  ex- 
claimed they. — "It  was,  indeed,"  says  Luther,  "  a  fit 
term  to  designate  my  rash  folly."  All  with  one  voice 
entreated  him  not  to  go  to  the  legate  until  he  had 
obtained  a  safe-conduct  from  the  emperor  himself.  It 
is  probable  that  the  public  had  already  heard  of  the 
papal  brief  of  which  the  legate  was  the  bearer. 

"  But,"  replied  Luther,  "  I  came  to  Augsburg  with- 
out a  safe-conduct,  and  have  arrived  in  good  health." 

"The  elector  having  recommended  you  to  us,  you 
ought  to  obey  us,  and  do  what  we  tell  you,"  rejoined 
Langemantel,  kindly  but  firmly.  Dr.  Auerbach 
seconded  his  remonstrances.  "  We  know,"  says  he, 
"  that  the  cardinal,  at  the  bottom  of  his  heart,  is  in 
the  highest  degree  incensed  against  you.  No  trust 
can  be  put  iu  the  Italians." 

Canon  Adelmann  likewise  insisted:  "You  have  been 
sent  defenceless,  and  it  has  been  forgotten  to  furnish 
you  with  the  precise  thing  which  you  required." 
These  friends  engaged  to  obtain  the  necessary  safe- 
conduct  from  the  emperor.  They  afterwards  told 
Luther  how  many  persons,  even  of  elevated  rank,  were 
inclined  in  his  favour.  "  Even  the  minister  of  France, 
who  quitted  Augsburg  a  few  days  ago,  spoke  of  you 
iu  the  most  honourable  terms."  This  statement  struck 
Luther,  and  he  afterwards  remembered  it.  Thus,  the 
most  respectable  citizens  in  one  of  the  first  cities  of 
the  empire  were  already  gained  to  the  reformation. 

They  were  still  conversing  when  Serra-Longa  re- 
appeared. "  Come,"  said  he  to  Luther,  "  the  cardinal 
is  waiting  for  you,  and  I  myself  am  going  to  conduct 
you  to  his  presence.  Listen  while  I  tell  you  how  you 
are  to  appear.  Wheu  you  enter  the  hall  where  he  is, 
you  wUl  prostrate  yourself  before  him  with  your  face 
on  the  ground ;  wheu  he  tells  you  to  rise,  you  will  get 
up  on  your  knees,  and  not  stand  erect,  but  wait  till  he 
bids  you.  Recollect  that  it  is  before  a  prince  of  the 
Church  that  you  are  going  to  appear.  For  the  rest, 
fear  nothing ;  the  whole  will  be  finished  soon,  and 
without  difficulty." 

Luther,  who  had  promised  this  Italian  that  he  would 
be  ready  to  follow  at  his  call,  felt  embarrassed.  Yet 
he  hesitated  not  to  inform  him  of  the  advice  which  he 
had  received  from  his  Augsburg  friends,  and  spoke  to 
him  of  a  safe-conduct. 

"  Beware  of  asking  one,"  immediately  replied  Serra- 
Longa;  "you  have  no  need  of  it.  The  legate  is  well 
disposed,  and  quite  ready  to  finish  the  thing  amicably. 
If  you  ask  a  safe-conduct,  you  will  totally  spoil  your 
affair." 

"  My  gracious  lord,  the  Elector  of  Saxony,"  replied 
Luther,  "  has  recommended  me  to  several  honourable 


LUTHER  AND  SERRA-LONGA. 


men  of  this  town,  who  counsel  me  to  undertake  nothing 
without  ft  safe-couduct.  I  must  follow  their  advice ; 
for,  were  I  not  to  do  .<o,  and  •were  anything  to  happen, 
they  would  write  to  the  elector,  my  master,  that  I  had 
refused  to  listen  to  them." 

Luther  persisted  in  his  resolution,  and  Serra-Longa 
eaw  himself  obliged  to  return  to  his  chief,  to  announce 
the  obstacle  which  his  mission  had  encountered  at  the 
moment  when  he  was  flattering  himself  with  seeing  it 
crowned  with  success. 

Thus  terminated  the  conferences  of  that  day  with 
the  orator  of  Montferrat. 

Another  invitation  was  given  to  Luther.  John 
Frosch,  the  prior  of  the  Carmelites,  who  was  an  old 
friend  of  his,  and  two  years  before,  as  a  licentiate  of 
theology,  had  maintained  theses  under  the  presidency 
of  Luther,  paid  him  a  visit,  and  earnestly  begged  he 
would  come  and  reside  with  him.  He  claimed  the 
honour  of  having  the  doctor  of  Germany  for  his  guest. 
Men  at  length  feared  not  to  do  homage  to  him  in  pre- 
sence of  Rome ;  the  feeble  had  already  become  strong. 
Luther  accepted,  and  left  the  Augustine  convent  for 
that  of  the  Carmelites.  The  day  did  not  close  without 
serious  reflection.  The  eagerness  of  Serra-Longa,  and 
the  fears  of  the  councillors,  equally  served  to  acquaint 
him  with  the  difKculty  of  his  position.  Nevertheless, 
God  iu  heaven  was  his  protector,  and  under  His  guar- 
dianship he  could  sleep  without  fear. 

The  next  day,  being  Sunday,  gave  him  somewhat 
more  repose.  Pie  had,  however,  to  endure  a  different 
kind  of  fatigue.  The  whole  talk  of  the  town  was  about 
Dr.  Luther ;  and,  as  Melancthon  expresses  it,  every- 
body was  desirous  to  see  '•  this  new  Erostratus,  who 
had  kindled  so  immense  a  conflagration."  The  people 
pressed  around  him,  and  the  good  doctor,  no  doubt, 
smiled  at  their  eagerness. 

But  he  had  to  submit  to  another  kind  of  importunity. 
If  the  people  were  desirous  to  see  him,  they  were  still 
more  so  to  hear  him ;  and  he  was  requested  on  aU 
hands  to  preach.  Luther  had  no  greater  delight  than 
in  proclaiming  the  Word,  and  would  have  been  happy 
to  preach  Jesus  Christ  in  this  great  city,  in  the  solemn 
circumstances  in  which  he  was  placed.  But  on  this 
occasion,  as  on  many  others,  he  shewed  a  strong  sense 
of  propriety,  and  profound  respect  for  his  superiors, 
and  refused  to  preach,  lest  the  legate  might  suppose 
that  he  did  it  in  order  to  give  him  pain,  and  by  way 
of  defiance.  This  moderation  and  wisdom  were  un- 
doubtedly of  as  much  value  as  a  sermon. 

The  cardinal's  creatures,  however,  did  not  leave  him 
in  tranquillity,  but  returned  to  the  charge.  "The 
cardinal,"  said  they,  '•  assures  you  of  his  entire  grace 
and  favour.  What  do  you  fear?"  They  alleged  a 
thousand  reasons  in  order  to  induce  him  to  go.  "  He 
is  a  father  full  of  mercy,"  said  one  of  these  envoys ; 
but  another,  approaching,  whispered  iu  his  ear,  "  Don't 
believe  what  is  told  you — he  does  not  keep  his  word." 
Luther  adhered  to  his  resolution. 

On  Monday  morning,  10th  October,  Serra-Longa 
returned  to  the  charge.  The  courtier  had  made  it  a 
point  of  honour  to  succeed  in  his  negotiation.  As  soon 
as  he  eiUcred,  he  exclaimed  in  Latin,  "  Why  do  you 
not  come  to  the  cardinal  ?  He  is  waiting  for  you  with 
the  most  indulgent  feelings.     The  whole  matter  may 


be  summed  up  in  six  letters :  Eevoca,  retract.  Come, 
you  Iiave  nothing  to  fear." 

Luther  tliought  within  himself,  these  six  are  im- 
portant letters;  but,  without  entering  into  discussion 
on  the  subject,  said  :  "  As  soon  as  I  have  obtained  the 
safe-conduct  I  will  appear." 

Serra-Longa  broke  out  on  hearing  these  words. 
He  insisted,  and  remonstrated ;  but  found  Luther  im- 
moveable. Becoming  more  and  more  irritated,  he 
exclaimed :  "  You  imagine,  doubtless,  that  the  elector 
will  take  up  arms  in  your  behalf,  and  for  your  sake 
run  the  risk  of  losing  the  territories  handed  down  to 
him  from  his  fathers." 

Luther.—'^  God  forbid." 

Sena-Lon(/a. — "Abandoned  by  all,  where  will  your 
refuge  be  ?" 

Luther,  {looking  vpwarils  uith  the  eye  of  /uith.) — 
"  L'nder  heaven." 

Serra-Longa,  struck  with  this  sublime  reply,  for 
which  he  was  not  prepared,  remained  a  moment  silent, 
and  then  continued  : — 

"  Wliat  would  you  do  if  you  had  the  pope,  the 
legate,  and  all  the  cardinals  in  your  hands,  as  they 
have  you  in  theirs '?" 

Luther. — "  I  would  pay  them  all  honour  and  respect. 
But  in  my  view,  the  Word  of  God  takes  precedence 
of  all." 

Serra-Longa,  (laughing,  and  wagging  one  of  his 
fingers,  as  the  Italians  do.) — "  Hera  !  hem !  all  honour. 
.     .     .     I  don't  believe  a  word  of  it.     .     .     ." 

He  then  went  out,  leapt  into  his  saddle,  and  dis- 
appeared. 

Serra-Longa  returned  no  more  to  Luther;  but  he 
long  remembered  both  the  resistance  which  he  had 
met  with  from  the  reformer,  and  that  which  his  master 
also  was  soon  to  experience.  At  a  later  period,  we 
shall  see  him  with  loud  cries  demanding  Luther's  blood. 

Serra-Longa  had  not  long  left  the  doctor  when  the 
safe-conduct  arrived.  His  friends  had  obtained  it 
from  the  councillor  of  the  empire,  who,  it  is  probable, 
had  previously  consulted  with  the  emperor,  as  he  was 
not  far  from  Augsburg.  It  would  even  seem,  from  a 
remark  afterwards  made  by  the  cardinals,  that,  to 
avoid  offending  him,  his  consent  had  been  asked. 
This  may  have  been  his  reason  for  employing  Serra- 
Longa  to  work  upon  Luther;  for  to  have  openly 
opposed  the  giving  of  a  safe-conduct,  would  have  been 
to  reveal  intentions  which  he  was  desirous  to  conceal. 
It  was  safer  to  induce  Luther  himself  to  desist  from 
his  demand.  It  was  soon  seen,  however,  that  the 
Saxon  monk  was  not  made  of  pliable  materials. 

Luther  is  going  to  appear.  While  demanding  a 
safe-conduct,  he  did  not  trust  to  a  carnal  arm ;  for  he 
knew  very  well  that  a  safe-conduct  did  not  save  John 
Huss  from  the  flames.  He  only  wished  to  do  his  duty 
by  submitting  to  tlie  advice  of  his  master's  friends. 
Jehovah  will  decide.  If  He  requires  him  to  give  back 
his  life,  he  is  ready  to  give  it  joyfully.  At  this  solemn 
moment  he  feels  a  longing  for  converse  with  his 
friends,  especially  with  Melancthon,  now  so  dear  to 
his  heart,  and  avails  himself  of  a  moment  of  retire- 
ment to  write  him. 

"  Comport  yourself  like  a  mau,"  says  he  to  him, 
"  as  you  always  do.     Teach  our  dear  youth  what  is 


116 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


right  and  agreeable  to  God.  For  me,  I  am  ready  t(P 
be  sacrificed  for  you  and  for  them,  if  it  is  the  Lord's 
will.  Sooner  than  retract  what  I  was  bound  to  teach, 
I  would  die,  and  even  (what  would  be  to  me  the 
greatest  misfortune)  be  deprived  for  ever  of  your 
delightful  society,  thus  losing  (perhaps  by  my  fault) 
the  excellent  studies   to  which  we  are  now  devoted. 

'•Italy,  like  Egypt  of  old,  is  plunged  in  darkness,  so 
thick  that  it  may  be  felt.  Nobody  knows  anything  of 
Christ,  or  of  what  relates  to  Him  ;  and  yet  these  people 
are  our  lords  and  masters  in  faith  aud  manners. 
Thus  the  wrath  of  God  is  fulfilled  upon  us,  as  the 
prophet  speaks :  I  will  <jive  them  youths  for  (/ovcniors, 
and  babes  will  rule  over  them.  Conduct  yourself  as  iu 
presence  of  the  Lord,  my  dear  Philip,  and  avert  the 
divine  wrath  by  pure  and  fervent  prayer." 

Tlie  legate,  informed  that  Luther  was  next  day  to 
appear  before  him,  assembled  the  Italians  aud  Ger- 
mans in  whom  he  had  the  gi-eatest  confidence,  in  order 
to  consider  what  was  necessary  to  be  done  with  the 
Saxon  monk.  Opinions  were  divided.  "  He  must," 
says  one,  "  be  compelled  to  retract."  "  He  must  be 
seized,"  says  another,  "  and  imprisoned."  A  third 
thought  that  it  was  better  to  get  quit  of  him ;  and  a 
fourth,  that  an  attempt  should  bo  made  to  gain  him 
by  kindness  and  lenity.  This  last  advice  the  cardinal 
seems  at  first  to  have  determined  to  adopt. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

First  Appearance  — First  Words  —  Conditions  of  Rome  —  Propositions  to 
Retract— Luthei-'s  Reply— He  'Withdraws— Impressions  ou  bnth  sides- 
Arrival  of  Staupitz. 

The  day  of  conference  at  length  aii-ived.'  The  legate, 
knowing  that  Luther  had  declared  his  readiness  to 
retract  what  could  be  proved  contrary  to  the  truth, 
had  great  hopes  of  success.  He  doubted  not  that  it 
would  be  easy  for  a  man  of  his  rank  and  knowledge  to 
bring  back  this  monk  to  the  obedience  of  the  Church. 
Luther  repaired  to  the  legate,  accompanied  by  the 
prior  of  the  Carmelites,  (his  host  aud  friend,)  two  friars 
of  the  convent.  Dr.  Link,  and  an  Augustine,  probably 
the  one  who  had  come  with  him  from  Nuremberg. 
Scarcely  had  he  entered  the  palace  of  the  legate,  than 
all  the  Italians  in  the  suite  of  the  prince  of  the  Church 
rushed  forward.  E^'ery  one  wished  to  see  the  famous 
doctor,  and  pressed  so  upon  him  that  he  could  scarcely 
advance.  Luther  found  the  apostolical  nuncio  and 
Serra-Longa  in  the  hall  where  the  cardinal  was  wait- 
ing. The  reception  was  cold,  but  polite,  and  conform- 
able to  Roman  etiquette.  Luther,  following  the  in- 
structions which  Serra-Longa  had  given  him,  pros- 
strated  himself  before  the  cardinal ;  when  told  to  rise, 
he  put  himself  on  his  knees ;  aud  on  a  new  order  from 
the  legate,  stood  erect.  Several  of  the  most  distin- 
guished Italians  in  the  service  of  the  legate  pushed  for- 
ward into  the  hall  to  be  present  at  the  interview. 
They  desired,  tibove  all,  to  see  the  German  monk  humb- 
ling himself  before  the  representative  of  the  pope. 

1  Tuesday,  llth  Oftober. 


The  legate  remained  silent.  Hating  Luther  as  an 
adversary  of  the  theological  supremacy  of  St.  Thomas, 
and  as  the  head  of  an  active  opposition  in  a  rising 
university,  whose  very  first  steps  had  greatly  disquieted 
the  Thomists,  he  was  pleased  at  seeing  him  lying  be- 
fore him,  and  thought,  says  a  contemporary,  that 
Luther  was  going  to  sing  a  palinode.  Luther,  on  his 
pai-t,  waited  till  the  prince  should  address  him ;  but  see- 
ing he  did  not,  he  took  his  silence  for  an  invitation  to 
begin,  and  spoke  as  follows  : — 

"  Most  Worthy  Father, — On  the  citation  of  his 
papal  holiness,  and  at  the  request  of  my  gracious  lord, 
the  Elector  of  Saxony,  I  appear  before  you  as  a  sub- 
missive and  obedient  son  of  the  holy  Christian  Church, 
and  I  acknowledge  that  I  published  the  propositions 
and  theses  in  question.  I  am  ready  to  listen,  in  all 
obedience,  to  the  charge  brought  against  me,  and  to 
allow  myself,  if  I  am  mistaken,  to  be  instructed  in  the 
way  of  truth." 

The  cardinal,  who  had  resolved  to  assume  the  air  of 
a  tender  father,  full  of  compassion  for  an  erring  child, 
now  spoke  in  the  most  friendly  tone,  praised  the  humi- 
lity of  Luther,  expressed  all  the  joy  it  gave  him,  and 
said  :  "  My  dear  son,  you  have  stirred  up  all  Germany 
by  your  dispute  on  indulgences.  I  am  told  that  you 
are  a  very  learned  doctor  in  the  Scriptures,  and  have 
many  disciples.  Wherefore,  if  you  would  be  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Church,  and  find  in  the  pope  a  most  gracious 
lord,  listen  to  me." 

After  this  exordium,  the  legate  did  not  hesitate  to 
disclose  to  him  at  once  all  that  he  expected  of  him — so 
confident  was  he  of  his  submission.  "  Here,"  said  he, 
"are  three  articles  which,  by  the  order  of  our  most 
holy  Father,  Leo.  X.,  I  have  to  lay  before  you  : — First, 
You  must  retrace  your  steps,  acknowledge  your  faults, 
and  retract  your  errors,  propositions,  and  discourses ; 
secondly.  You  must  promise  to  abstain  in  future  from 
circulating  your  opinions ;  and,  thirdly,  You  must  en- 
gage to  be  more  moderate,  and  to  avoid  everything  that 
might  grieve  or  upset  the  Church." 

Luther. — "  I  request,  most  worthy  father,  that  you 
will  communicate  to  me  the  brief  of  the  pope,  in  virtue 
of  which  you  have  received  full  power  to  dispose  of 
this  affair." 

Serra-Longa  and  the  other  Italians  iu  the  cardinal's 
suite  stared  on  hearing  this  request ;  and  although  the 
German  monk  had  already  appeared  to  them  a  very 
odd  man,  they  could  scarcely  recover  from  the  astonish- 
ment produced  by  so  bold  a  speech.  Christians,  accus- 
tomed to  ideas  of  justice,  desire  just  procedure  in  the 
case  of  others,  as  well  as  of  themselves  ;  but  those  who 
act  habitually  in  an  arbitrary  manner,  are  quite  sur- 
prised when  they  are  told  to  proceed  in  regular  form, 
according  to  law. 

De  Via. — "This  request,  my  dear  son,  cannot  be 
granted.  You  must  acknowledge  your  errors,  take 
care  of  your  words  in  future,  and  not  return  to  your 
vomit,  so  that  we  may  be  able  to  sleep  without  trouble 
and  anxiety;  thereafter,  conformably  to  the  order  and 
authority  of  our  most  holy  Father,  the  pope,  I  will 
arrange  the  affair." 

Luther. — "Have  the  goodness,  then,  to  tell  me  in 
what  I  have  erred." 

At  this  new  request  the  Italian  courtiers,  who  had 


LUTHER  AND  DE  VIO. 


117 


expected  to  see  the  poor  German  on  his  knees  crying 
mercy,  were  strucl<  with  still  greater  astonishment. 
Not  one  of  them  would  have  thought  of  condescending 
so  far  as  to  answer  so  impertinent  a  question.  But 
De  Vio,  who  considered  it  ungenerous  to  crush  the 
cative  monk  witii  tlie  whole  wciglit  of  his  autliority, 
and  who,  besides,  was  confident  that  his  superior  know- 
ledge would  give  him  an  easy  victory,  consented  to  tell 
Luther  of  what  he  was  accused,  and  even  to  enter  into 
discussion  with  him.  In  justice  to  this  general  of  the 
Dominicans,  it  must  be  admitted  that  he  had  more 
equity,  a  better  sense  of  propriety,  and  less  passion, 
than  have  been  shewn  on  many  occasions  since  in 
similar  affairs.  He  assumed  a  tone  of  condescension, 
and  said, — 

"Very  dear  son! — Here  are  two  propositions  which 
you  have  advanced,  and  which  you  must,  first  of  all, 
retract : — Firsts  The  treasury  of  indulgences  does  not 
consist  of  the  merits  and  sufferings  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ ;  second,  The  man  who  receives  the  holy  sacra- 
mentmust  have  faith  in  thegracewhichisofferedtohim." 

In  fact,  both  of  these  propositions  gave  a  mortal 
blow  to  the  Roman  traffic.  If  the  pope  had  not  the 
power  to  dispose  at  pleasure  of  the  merits  of  the 
Saviour, — if  those  who  received  the  bills  which  the 
courtiers  of  the  Church  were  negotiating,  did  not  receive 
part  of  this  infinite  righteousness,  the  paper  lost  all  its 
value,  and  was  worth  no  more  than  if  it  had  been  blank. 
It  was  the  same  with  the  sacraments.  Indulgences 
were,  to  some  extent,  an  extraordinary  branch  of  the 
commerce  of  Rome,  whereas  the  sacraments  were  of 
the  natiu-e  of  an  ordinary  branch.  The  returns  which 
they  yielded  were  far  from  being  insignificant.  To 
maintain  that  faith  was  necessary  before  the  sacra- 
ments could  confer  a  real  benefit  on  a  Christian  soul, 
was  to  deprive  them  of  all  isterest  in  the  eyes  of  the 
people;  faith  being  a  thing  which  the  pope  did  not 
give,  which  was  beyond  his  power,  and  came  from  God 
only.  To  declare  it  necessary,  was  to  wrest  out  of  the 
hands  of  Rome  both  speculation  and  profit.  Luther, 
in  attacking  these  two  dogmas,  had  imitated  Jesus 
Christ,  when,  at  the  commencement  of  His  ministry. 
He  overthrew  the  tables  of  the  money-changers,  and 
drove  the  buyers  and  sellers  out  of  the  temple,  saying. 
Make  not  mij  Father's  house  a  house  of  merchandise. 

"  I  will  not,  in  order  to  combat  these  errors,"  con- 
tinued Cajetan,  "invoke  the  autliority  of  St.  Thomas, 
and  the  other  scholastic  doctors  ;  I  will  found  only  on 
the  authority  of  Holy  Scripture,  and  speak  with  you 
in  all  friendship." 

But  scarcely  had  De  Vio  begun  to  unfold  his  proofs 
than  he  deviated  from  the  rule  which  he  had  declared 
his  intention  to  follow.  He  combated  Luther's  first 
proposition  by  an  "  Extravagance  "^  of  Pope  Clement, 
and  the  second  by  all  sorts  of  scholastic  dogmas.  The 
discussion  commenced  on  this  constitution  of  the  pope 
in  favour  of  iudidgences.  Luther,  indignant  at  the 
aathority  which  the  legate  ascribed  to  a  decree  of 
Rome,  exclaimed, — 

"I  cannot  receive  such  constitutions  as  sufiicieut 
proofs  in  so  important  matters.  For  they  wrest  the 
Holy  Scripture,  and  never  quote  it  appositely." 


tlie  body  of  the  tinon  law. 


J,  coUcctcJ  ,iml  aildtd  i 


De  Vio. — "  The  pope  has  authority  and  power  over 
all  things." 

Luther,  {keenlij.) — "  Save  Scripture." 
Be  Vio,  {ironically.) — "Save  Scripture  I     .     .     The 
pope,  know  you  not,  is  above  councils  ?     Even  recently 
he  condemned  and  punished  the  Council  of  Basle." 
Luther. — "  The  university  of  Paris  appealed." 
De    Vio. — "These    Pdi'isiau    gentry    will    pay   the 
peiuilty." 

The  discussion  between  the  cardinal  and  Luther 
afterwards  turned  on  the  second  point, — viz.,  on  faith. 
This  Luther  declared  to  be  necessary,  in  order  to  re- 
ceive benefit  from  the  sacraments ;  and,  according  to 
his  custom,  quoted  several  passages  of  Scripture  in 
favour  of  tlie  opinion  which  he  maintained ;  but  the 
legate  received  them  with  loud  laughter.  "It  is  of 
general  faith  you  speak,  then,"  said  he. — '•  No,"  replied 
Luther.  One  of  the  Italians,  m.ister  of  the  ceremonies 
to  the  legate,  out  of  all  patience  at  Luther's  opposition 
and  his  answers,  was  burning  with  eagerness  to  speak. 
He  was  constantly  trying  to  break  in,  but  the  legate 
enjoined  silence,  and  at  last  was  obliged  to  reprimand 
him  so  sharply,  that  the  master  of  the  ceremonies  left 
the  hall  in  confusion. 

"  As  to  indulgences,"  said  Luther,  "  if  it  can  be 
shewn  that  I  am  mistaken,  I  am  quite  willing  to  be 
instructed.  One  may  pass  over  that  point  without  be- 
ing a  bad  Christian  ;  but  on  the  article  of  faith,  were  I 
to  yield  a  whit,  I  should  be  denying  Jesus  Christ. 
With  regard  to  it,  then,  I  am  neither  able  nor  willing 
to  yield,  and  by  the  grace  of  God  never  shall." 

De  Vio,  {heijinning  to  lose  temper.) — "Whether  you 
will  or  not,  you  must  this  very  day  retract  that  article ; 
otherwise,  for  that  article  alone,  I  will  reject  and  con- 
demn all  your  doctrine."  | 

Luther. — "I  have  no  will  apart  from  that  of  the  I 
Lord ;  He  will  do  with  me  what  pleases  Him.  But  • 
had  I  five  heads,  I  woidd  lose  them  all  sooner  than  j 
retract  the  testimony  which  I  have  borne  to  holy  j 
Christian  faith."  j 

De  Vio. — "  I  did  not  come  here  to  reason  with  you. 
Retract,  or  prepare  to  suffer  the  pains  which  yon  have     i 
deserved."  j 

Luther  saw  plainly  that  it  was  impossible  to  settle 
the  matter  by  a  conference.     His  opponent  sat  before 
him  as  if  he  were  the  pope  himself,  and  insisted  on  his 
receiving  humbly,  and  with  submission,  whatever  he 
said ;   while  his   answers,  even  when  founded  on  the 
Holy  Scriptures,  were  received  with  a  shrug  of  his     j 
shoulders,  and  all  sorts  of  irony  and  contempt.      He     j 
thought  the  wisest  coui-se  would  be  to  answer  the  car-     j 
diual  in  writing.     This  method,  thought  he,  leaves  at 
least  some  consolation  to  the  oppressed.     Others  will     \ 
be  able  to  form  a  judgment  of  the  affair;    and  the     | 
unjust  adversary,  who,  by  clamour,   remains  master     : 
of  the  field  of  battle,  may  be  deterred  by  it.  [ 

Luther  having  signified  his  intention  to  withdraw,     i 
the  legate  said  to  him,  "  Do  you  wish  me  to  give  you 
a  safe-conduct  to  Rome  ?" 

Nothing  would  have  been  more  agreeable  to  Cajetau     ' 
than  the  acceptance  of  this  offer,  as  it  would  have     \ 
disencumbered  him  of  a  ttisk,  the  difficulties  of  which     i 
he  began  to  comprehend.     But  the  reformer,  who  saw 
all  the  difficulties  with  which  he  was  surrounded  even     j 


118 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


at  Augsburg,  took  good  care  not  to  accept  rj  proposal 
the  effect  of  which  could  only  have  been  to  give  him 
over,  bound  hand  and  foot,  to  the  vengeance  of  his 
enemies.  He  rejected  it  as  often  as  De  Yio  was 
pleased  to  renew  it,  and  this  was  frequently.  The 
legate  disguised  the  pain  which  he  felt  at  Luther's 
refusal,  and,  wrapping  himself  up  in  liis  dignity,  dis- 
missed the  monk  with  a  smile  of  compassion,  under 
which  he  tried  to  conceal  his  disappointment,  and  at 
the  same  time  the  politeness  of  one  who  hopes  he  may 
succeed  better  another  time. 

No  sooner  was  Luther  in  the  court  of  the  palace, 
than  the  talkative  Italian,  the  master  of  the  ceremonies, 
whom  his  master's  reprimands  had  obliged  to  quit  the 
hall  of  conference,  delighted  at  being  able  to  speak  out 
of  sight  of  Cajetan,  and  burning  with  eagerness  to 
confound  the  abominable  heretic  by  his  luminous 
reasons,  ran  after  him,  and,  continuing  to  walk,  began 
to  retail  his  sophisms.  But  Luther,  weary  of  this 
foolish  personage,  answered  him  with  one  of  those 
cutting  expressions  which  he  had  so  much  at  com- 
mand, and  the  poor  master  of  the  ceremonies  left  off, 
and  returned  in  confusion  to  the  cardinal's  palace. 

Luther  did  not  carry  away  a  very  high  opinion  of 
liis  opponent.  He  had  heard  from  him,  as  he  after- 
wards wrote  to  Spalatin,  propositions  which  were  quite 
at  variance  with  theology,  and  in  the  mouth  of  any 
other  person  would  have  been  regarded  as  arch- 
heretical.  And  yet  De  Vio  was  considered  the  most 
learned  of  the  Dominicans.  Second  to  him  was 
Prierio.  •'  From  this,"  says  Luther,  "'  we  may  infer 
what  those  must  have  been  who  were  tenth  or 
liundi-edth." 

On  the  other  hand,  the  noble  and  resolute  bearing 
of  the  "Wittemberg  doctor  had  greatly  surprised  the 
cardinal  and  his  courtiers.  Instead  of  a  poor  monk 
humbly  begging  pardon,  they  had  found  a  free  man, 
a  decided  Christian,  an  enlightened  teacher,  who  in- 
sisted that  mijust  accusations  should  be  supported  by 
proof,  and  who  defended  his  doctrine  triumphantly. 
AU  the  inmates  of  Cajetan's  palace  inveighed  against 
the  pride,  obstinacy,  and  effrontery  of  this  heretic. 
Luther  and  De  Yio  had  mutually  learned  to  know 
each  other,  and  both  prepared  for  their  second  inter- 
viev>-. 

A  very  agreeable  surprise  awaited  Luther  on  his 
return  to  the  convent  of  the  Carmelites.  The  vicar- 
general  of  the  Augustine  order,  his  friend,  his  father 
Staupitz,  had  arrived  at  Augsburg.  Not  having  been 
able  to  prevent  Luther  from  coming  to  this  city, 
Staupitz  gave  his  friend  a  new  and  touching  proof  of 
his  attachment  by  coming  personally,  in  the  hope  of 
being  useful  to  him.  This  excellent  man  foresaw  that 
the  conference  with  the  legate  woidd  lead  to  very 
serious  consequences.  He  was  equally  agitated  by  his 
fears  and  his  friendship  for  Luther,  who,  after  his 
painful  sederunt,  felt  it  refreshing  to  clasp  so  valuable 
a  friend  in  liis  arms.  Having  told  him  that  it  had 
been  impossible  for  him  to  get  an  answer  worth  any- 
thing, and  how  the  legate  had  been  contented  to 
demand  a  retractation  without  trying  to  convince  him 
— "  It  is  absolutely  necessary,"  said  Staupitz,  "  to  give 
the  legate  a  written  answer." 

After  what  he  had  heard  of  the  first   interview. 


Staupitz  hoped  nothing  from  the  others,  and  therefore 
determined  on  a  proceeding  which  he  deemed  necessary. 
He  resolved  to  loose  Luther  from  obedience  to  his 
order.  By  this  Staupitz  hoped  to  gain  two  ends.  If, 
as  all  anticipated,  Luther  fell  in  the  struggle,  the  dis- 
grace of  his  condemnation  would  not  fall  on  the  whole 
order ;  or  if  the  cardinal  ordered  Staupitz  to  oblige 
Luther  to  silence  or  retractation,  he  would  have  an 
excuse  for  not  doing  it.  The  ceremony,  which  took 
place  in  the  usual  form,  made  Luther  aware  of  all  that 
he  had  thenceforth  to  expect.  He  felt  exceedingly  at 
seeing  the  ties  which  he  had  formed  in  the  enthusiasm 
of  his  youth  thus  broken.  The  order  of  his  choice 
rejects  him.  His  natural  protectors  stand  aloof,  and 
he  becomes  a  stranger  to  his  brethren.  But  though 
his  heart  is  filled  with  sadness  at  the  thought,  he 
recovers  all  his  joy  on  turning  to  the  promises  of  a 
faithful  God,  who  has  said,  /  ivill  never  Uave  you  nor 
forsake  you. 

The  councillors  of  the  empire  having  intimated  to 
the  legate,  through  the  Bishop  of  Trent,  that  Luther 
was  provided  with  an  imperial  safe-conduct,  and  hav- 
ing caused  it  to  be  declared  at  the  same  time,  that  no- 
thing was  to  be  attempted  against  the  doctor's  person, 
De  Vio  became  angr_y,  and  sharply  replied  in  words 
characteristically  Roman,  "  Very  well ;  but  I  will  do 
what  the  pope  commands."     AVc  know  what  this  was. 


CHAPTER  VIL 

Commuiiication  to  the  Legate— Second  Appearance— Luther's  Declariitioa 
—The  Legate's  Reply— The  Legate's  VolubiUty— Luther's  Request. 

The  next  day  both  parties  prepared  for  the  second 
interview,  which  promised  to  be  decisive.  The  friends 
of  Luther,  who  had  resolved  to  accompany  him  to  the 
legate,  repaired  to  the  convent  of  the  Carmelites. 
The  Dean  of  Trent  and  Peutinger,  both  councillors 
of  the  emperor,  and  Staupitz,  arrived  in  succession. 
Shortly  after,  the  doctor  had  the  pleasure  to  see  them 
joined  by  the  Chevalier  Philip  von  Feilitsch,  and 
Doctor  Ruhel,  councillors  of  the  elector,  who  had  been 
ordered  by  their  master  to  attend  the  conferences,  and 
protect  the  liberty  of  Luther.  They  had  arrived  the 
previous  evening,  and  were,  says  Mathesius,  to  stand 
at  his  side,  as  at  Constance  the  Chevalier  de  Chlum 
stood  at  the  side  of  John  Huss.  The  doctor,  more- 
over, took  a  notary,  and,  accompanied  with  all  these 
friends,  proceeded  to  the  legate. 

At  this  moment  Staupitz  came  up  to  him ;  he 
thoroughly  comprehended  Luther's  situation,  and  knew 
that  if  he  did  not  fix  his  eye  solely  on  the  Lord,  who 
is  the  deliverer  of  His  people,  he  must  succumb.  '•  My 
dear  brother,"  said  he  to  him  seriously,  '•  constantly 
reniember  that  you  have  begun  these  things  in  the 
name  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ."  Thus  God  sur- 
rounded His  humble  servant  with  consolation  and 
eneoiu-agement. 

Luther,  on  arriving  at  the  cardinal's,  found  a  new 
opponent.     This  was  the  prior  of  the  Dominicans  of 


SECOND  APPEARANCE  BEFORE  DE  VIO. 


Auggburg,  Avlio  was  seated  at  the  side  of  his  chief. 
Luther,  agreeably  to  the  resohuion  wliich  he  had 
formed,  had  written  his  reply;  and,  after  tlic  usual 
salutations,  with  a  firm  voice  read  the  following 
declaration : — 

"  I  declare  that  I  honour  the  lioly  Roman  Church, 
and  that  I  will  continue  to  honour  it.  I  have  sought 
the  truth  in  public  discussions ;  and  all  that  I  have  said 
I  regard,  even  at  this  hour,  as  just,  true,  and  Chris- 
tian. Still  I  am  a  man,  and  may  be  mistal<en.  I  am, 
therefore,  disposed  to  receive  instruction  and  correction 
in  the  things  in  which  I  may  have  erred.  I  declare 
myself  ready  to  reply,  by  word  of  mouth  or  by  writing, 
to  all  the  objections  and  all  the  charges  which  my  lord 
the  legate  may  bring  against  me.  I  declare  myself 
ready  to  submit  my  theses  to  the  four  universities  of 
Basle,  Fribourg  in  Brisgau,  Louvain,  and  Paris ;  and 
to  retract  what  they  declare  to  be  erroneous.  In  a 
word,  I  am  ready  to  do  all  that  may  be  demanded  of  a 
Christian.  But  I  protest  solemnly  against  the  course 
which  is  sought  to  be  gi\en  to  this  affair,  and  against 
the  strange  pretension  of  constraining  me  to  retract 
without  having  refuted  me." 

Undoubtedly  nothing  could  be  more  equitable  than 
these  proposals  of  Luther ;  and  yet  they  must  have 
been  very  embarrassing  to  a  judge  whose  decision  had 
been  prescribed  to  him  beforehand.  The  legate,  who 
had  not  expected  this  jirotestation,  sought  to  conceal 
his  uneasiness  bj-  pretending  to  laugh  at  it ;  and,  assum- 
ing an  exterior  of  gentleness,  said  to  Luther,  smiling : 
"This  protestation  is  unnecessary.  I  will  not  dispute 
with  you  either  in  public  or  in  private ;  but  I  purpose 
to  arrange  the  affair  kindly,  and  like  a  father."  The 
whole  policy  of  the  cardinal  consisted  in  putting  aside 
the  strict  forms  of  justice,  which  afford  protection  to 
those  who  are  prosecuted,  and  in  treating  the  affair 
only  as  one  of  administration  between  superior  and  in- 
ferior,— a  commodious  method,  inasmuch  as  it  opens 
up  a  wide  field  for  arbitrary  procedure. 

Still  maintaining  the  most  affectionate  manner, — 
"My  dear  friend,"  said  De  Yio,  "  abandon,  I  pray  you, 
a  useless  design.  Rather  return  to  yourself,  ackno^v- 
ledge  the  truth,  and  I  am  ready  to  reconcile  you  with 
the  Church  and  the  sovereign  bishop.  Whether  you 
will  or  not,  it  matters  little.  It  will  be  hard  for  you 
to  kick  against  the  pricks.     .     ,     ." 

Luther,  who  saw  himself  treated  as  if  he  were 
already  proved  a  rebellious  child,  rejected  of  the 
Chiu'ch,  exclaimed :  "  I  cannot  retract ;  but  I  offer  to 
answer,  and  in  writing.  We  had  enough  of  debating 
yesterday." 

De  Vio  was  imtated  at  this  expression,  which 
reminded  him  that  he  had  not  acted  with  sufficient 
prudence ;  but  he  recovered  himself,  and  said  with  a 
smile:  '-Debating,  my  dear  son! — I  did  not  debate 
with  you.  I  have  no  wish  to  debate  ;  but  in  order  to 
please  the  most  serene  Elector  Frederick,  I  am  willing 
to  hear  you,  and  exhort  you  amicably  and  paternally." 

Luther  did  not  comprehend  why  the  legate  should 
have  been  so  much  offended  .at  the  expression  which 
he  had  used ;  for,  thought  he,  if  I  had  not  wished  to 
speak  politely,  I  would  have  said,  not  debated,  but  dis- 
puted, and  wraiKjled, — for  that  was  truly  what  we  did. 

Still,  De  Vio,  who  felt  that  before  the  respectable 


witnesses  who  were  present  at  the  conference,  it  was, 
at  least,  necessary  to  seem  to  try  to  convince  Luther  to 
return  to  the  two  propositions,  which  he  had  singled 
out  as  fundamental  errors,  thoroughly  resolved  to  let 
the  reformer  speak  as  little  as  possible.  Strong  in  his 
Italian  volubility,  he  overwhelms  him  with  objections, 
to  which  he  does  not  wait  for  a  reply.  Sometimes  he 
jests,  sometimes  he  .scolds;  he  declaims  with  impas- 
sioned heat ;  mixes  up  the  most  heterogeneous  subjects ; 
quotes  St.  Thomas  and  Aristotle  ;  cries,  and  gets  into  a 
passion  with  all  who  differ  with  him  in  opinion;  and 
then  apostrophizes  Luther.  Luther,  more  than  ten 
times,  tries  to  speak  ;  but  the  legate  instantly  interrupts 
him,  and  showers  dowu  menaces  upon  him.  Retracta- 
tion !  retractation  !  is  the  whole  sum  of  his  demand ;  he 
thunders,  and  domineers,  and  insists  on  having  all  the 
talk  to  himself.  Staupitz  interferes  to  stop  the  legate. 
"  Have  the  goodness,"  says  he,  "  to  give  Doctor  Martin 
time  to  answer."  But  the  legate  recommences  his  dis- 
course, quotes  the  '"  Extravagances  "  and  the  opinions  of 
St.  Thomas,  determined  to  harangue  during  the  whole 
interview.  If  he  cannot  convince,  and  if  he  dares  not 
strike,  he  at  least  can  stun. 

Luther  and  Staupitz  saw  clearly  that  they  must 
abandon  the  hope,  not  only  of  enlightening  De  Vio  by 
discussion,  but  also  of  making  a  useful  profession  of 
faith.  Luther,  therefore,  resumed  the  request  which 
he  had  made  at  the  commencement,  aud  which  the  car- 
dinal had  then  evaded.  Since  he  was  not  permitted  to 
speak,  he  asked  that  he  might,  at  least,  be  allowed 
to  write,  and  send  his  written  reply  to  the  legate. 
Staupitz  supported  him ;  several  others,  who  were  pre- 
sent, joined  their  entreaties;  aud  Cajetan,  notwithstand- 
ing of  all  his  repugnance  for  what  was  written,  (for  he 
remembered  that  what  is  written  remains.)  at  last  con- 
sented. The  meeting  broke  up.  The  hope  of  termi- 
nating the  affair  at  this  interview  was  adjourned ;  and  it 
became  necessary  to  await  the  result  of  a  subsequent 
conference. 

The  permission  which  the  general  of  the  Domini- 
cans gave  Luther  to  prepare  an  answer,  and  to  answer 
in  writing  the  two  distinct  and  articulate  accusations 
which  he  had  made,  touching  indulgences  and  faith, 
was  nothing  more  than  justice  demanded,  and  yet  we 
are  obliged  to  De  Vio  for  it,  as  a  mark  of  moderation 
and  impartiality. 

Luther  left  the  cardinal's  palace  delighted  that  his 
request  had  been  gi-anted.  In  going  and  returning  he 
was  the  object  of  public  attention.  All  enlightened 
men  were  interested  in  his  case,  as  if  it  had  been  their 
own;  for  it  was  felt  that  the  cause  then  pleaded  at 
Augsburg  was  the  cause  of  the  Gospel,  justice,  and 
liberty.  The  lowest  of  the  people  alone  were  with 
Cajetan ;  and  of  this  he,  doubtless,  gave  some  signifi- 
cant hints  to  the  reformer,  who  afterwards  spoke  of 
them. 

It  became  more  and  more  evident  that  the  legate 
had  no  wish  to  hear  any  more  from  Luther  than  the 
words,  "  I  retract ;"  and  these  Luther  was  resolved  not 
to  pronounce.  What  will  be  the  issue  of  this  unequal 
struggle?  How  can  it  be  imagined  that  the  whole 
power  of  Rome,  brought  to  bear  on  a  single  man,  will 
not  succeed  in  crushing  him  ?  Luther  sees  this.  Feel- 
ing the  w^eight  of  the  terrible  hand  under  which  he  is 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


placed,  he  gives  up  the  hope  of  ever  returning  to  Wit- 
temberg,  revisiting  his  dear  Philip,  and  again  finding 
himself  in  the  midst  of  the  generous  youths  into  whose 
hearts  he  loved  so  much  to  shed  the  seeds  of  life.  He 
sees  excommunication  hanging  over  his  head,  and  has 
no  doubt  that  it  must  shortly  fall  upon  him.  These 
prospects  afflict  his  soul,  but  do  not  overwhelm  it.  His 
confidence  in  God  is  not  shaken.  God  may  break  the 
instrument  which  He  has  been  pleased  till  now  to 
employ,  but  the  truth  will  be  maintained.  AYliatever 
happens,  Luther  must  defend  it  to  the  last.  He  ac- 
cordingly begins  to  prepare  the  protestation  which  he 
is  to  present  to  the  legate.  It  appears  that  he  devoted 
to  it  part  of  the  13th  October. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Third  Appearance— Treasury  of  Imlulgcrices— Faith— HumlJo  Request- 
Legate's  Reply— Luther's  Reply— Legate's  Rage— Luther  Retires— Fiist 
Defection. 

On  Friday,  the  14lh  October,  Luther  returned  to  the 
cardinal,  accompanied  by  the  councillors  of  the  elector. 
The  Italians  pressed  around  him  as  usual,  and  were 
present  at  the  conference  in  great  numbers.  Luther 
advanced,  and  presented  his  protestation  to  the  legate. 
The  cardinal's  people  looked  with  astonishment  at  a 
writing  which,  iu  their  eyes,  was  so  audacious.  The 
following  is  the  doctor  of  Wittemberg's  declaration 
to  their  master  : — 

"  You  attack  me  on  two  points.  First,  you  oppose 
to  me  the  Constitution  of  Pope  Clement  VI.,  in  which 
it  is  said,  that  the  treasury  of  indulgences  is  the  merit 
of  Jesus  Christ  and  the  saints ;  whereas  I  deny  this 
in  my  theses. 

"  Panormitauus  (Luther  thus  designates  Ives,  author 
of  the  famous  collection  of  ecclesiastical  law,  entitled 
'  Panormia,'  and  Bishop  of  Chartres  at  the  end  of  the 
eleventh  century)  declares,  in  his  first  book,  that  iu 
regard  to  holy  faith,  not  only  a  general  council,  but 
every  believer,  is  superior  to  the  pope,  if  he  produces 
declarations  of  Scripture,  and  better  arguments  than 
the  pope. 

"  The  voice  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  rises  far  above 
all  the  voices  of  men,  whatever  be  the  names  they  bear. 

"  What  gives  me  the  greatest  pain  and  uneasiness  is, 
that  this  Constitution  contains  doctrines  quite  opposed 
to  the  truth.  It  declares  that  the  merits  of  the  saints 
is  a  treasure,  while  all  Scripture  testifies  that  God 
recompenses  far  more  richly  than  we  deserve.  The 
prophet  exclaims:  Lord,  enter  not  into  judgment  with 
thy  servant;  for  in  tlnj  siyht  can  no  living  man  be 
jicstijied.  'Woe  to  men,  however  honourable  and 
laudable  their  life  may  be,'  says  St.  Augustine,  '  were 
judgment  passed  upon  it  without  mercy.' 

"  Heuce  the  saints  are  not  saved  by  their  merits,  but 
only  by  the  mercy  of  God,  as  I  have  declared.  I 
maintain  this,  and  adhere  firmly  to  it.  The  words  of 
holy  Scripture,  which  declare  that  the  saints  have  not 
enough  of  merit,  must  take  precedence  of  the  words  of 


men,  who  affirm  that  they  have  too  much  ;  for  the  pope 
is  not  above,  but  beneath  the  Word  of  God." 

Luther  does  not  stop  here,  but  shews  that  if  indul- 
gences cannot  be  the  merit  of  saints,  no  more  are  they 
the  merit  of  Christ.  He  observes,  that  indulgences  are 
barren  and  without  fruit,  since  they  have  no  other 
effect  than  to  exempt  men  from  doing  good  works, 
such  as  prayers  and  alms.  "No,"  exclaims  he,  "the 
merit  of  Christ  is  not  a  treasure  of  indulgences,  which 
exempts  from  well-doing;  but  a  treasure  of  grace, 
which  gives  life.  The  merit  of  Christ  is  applied  to 
believers  without  indulgences,  without  keys,  by  the 
Holy  Spirit  only,  and  not  by  the  pope.  If  any  one  has 
a  better  founded  ojjiuion  than  mine,"  adds  he,  in  con- 
cluding this  first  point,  •'  let  him  shew  it,  and  then  I 
will  retract." 

"I  have  affirmed,"  says  he,  in  coming  to  the  second 
article,  "that  no  man  can  be  justified  before  God 
unless  it  be  by  faith,  and  hence  that  it  is  necessary  for 
man  to  believe  with  full  assurance  that  he  has  obtained 
grace.  To  doubt  of  this  grace  is  to  reject  it.  The 
righteousness  and  life  of  the  righteous  is  his  faith." 

Luther  proves  his  proposition  by  a  multitude  of 
quotations  from  Scripture. 

"Be  pleased,  then,  to  intercede  for  me  with  our 
most  holy  lord,  Pope  Leo  X.,"  adds  he,  "  iu  order  that 
he  may  not  treat  me  with  so  much  disfavour.  .  .  . 
My  soul  seeks  the  light  of  truth.  I  am  not  so  proud, 
so  desirous  of  vain-glory,  as  to  be  ashamed  to  retract 
if  I  have  taught  what  is  false.  My  greatest  joy  will 
be  to  see  the  triumph  of  whatever  accords  with  the  will 
of  God.  Only  let  them  not  force  me  to  do  anything 
which  is  contrary  to  the  cry  of  my  conscience." 

The  legate  had  taken  the  declaration  from  Luther's 
hands,  and  after  having  perused  it,  said  to  him  coldly: 
"Y''ou  have  here  useless  verbiage;  you  have  written 
many  vain  words ;  you  have  answered  the  two  articles 
foolishly,  and  blotted  your  paper  with  a  number  of 
passages  of  holy  Scripture  which  have  no  reference  to 
the  subject."  Then,  with  a  disdainful  air,  De  Vio 
threw  down  the  protestation,  as  setting  no  value  upon 
it,  and  resuming  the  tone  which  he  had  found  tolerably 
successful  at  the  last  interview,  began  to  cry  at  full 
pitch  that  Luther  must  retract.  Luther  was  immove- 
able. "Friar!  friar!"  exclaims  De  Vio  in  Italian, 
"last  time  you  were  very  good,  but  to-day  you  are 
very  naughty."  Then  the  cardinal  begins  a  long  dis- 
course, drawn  from  the  writings  of  St.  Thomas,  again 
loudly  extols  the  Constitution  of  Clement  VI.,  aud 
persists  in  maintaining,  that,  in  virtue  of  this  Consti- 
tution, the  very  merits  of  Jesus  Christ  are  distributed 
to  the  faithful  by  means  of  indulgences.  He  thinks  he 
hai  silenced  Luther,  who  sometimes  begins  to  speak; 
but  De  Vio  scolds,  thunders  away  without  ceasing,  and 
insists  on  having  the  whole  field  of  battle  to  himself. 

This  method  might  have  had  some  success  a  first 
time,  but  Luther  was  not  the  man  to  suffer  it  a  second. 
His  indignation  at  length  burst  forth, — it  is  his  turn  to 
astonish  the  spectators,  -who  deem  him  already  van- 
quished by  the  volubility  of  the  prelate.  He  raises  his 
powerful  voice,  seizes  the  favourite  objection  of  the 
cardinal,  aud  makes  him  pay  dear  for  his  temerity  in 
having  entered  the  lists  with  him.  "  Retract !  re- 
tract ! "  repeated  De  Vio,  shewing  the  Constitution  of 


t^ 


THIRD  APPEARANCE  BEFORE  DE  VIO. 


the  pope. — '•Well,*  replied  Liillicr,  "if  it  can  be 
proved  by  this  Constitution  that  the  treixsure  of  iudul- 
gences  is  the  merit  of  Jesus  Christ,  I  consent  to  retract 
according  to  tlie  will  and  good  pleasure  of  your 
eminence.  .     ." 

The  Italians,  who  expected  nothing  of  the  kind, 
stared  at  these  words,  and  could  scarcely  contain  their 
joy  at  seeing  the  enemy  at  length  caught  in  tlie  net. 
The  cardinal  was,  as  it  were,  out  of  himself ;  he  laughed 
outright,  but  with  a  laugh  in  which  auger  and  indig- 
nation mingled ;  darting  forward,  he  lays  hold  of  the 
volume  containing  tlie  famous  Constitution,  looks  it  out, 
j)ounccs  upon  it,  and,  quite  proud  of  his  victory,  reads 
it  aloud,  witli  boiling  and  heaving  breast.  The  Italians 
exult;  the  elector's  councillors  are  uneasy  and  em- 
barrassed; Luther  is  waiting  for  his  opponent.  At 
length,  when  the  cardinal  comes  to  the  words,  "The 
Lord  Jesus  Christ  has  acquired  this  treasure  by  His 
sufferings,"  Luther  stops  him, — "  Slost  worthy  father," 
says  he,  '•  be  so  good  as  consider  and  carefully  medi- 
tate this  expression,  '  has  acquired.'  Christ  has  ac- 
quired a  treasure  by  His  merits ;  the  merits,  therefore, 
are  not  the  treasure;  for,  to  speak  philosophically, 
cause  and  effect  are  different  things.  The  merits  of 
Christ  have  acquired  authority  to  the  pope  to  grant 
such  indulgences  to  the  people  ;  but  what  the  hand  of 
the  pope  distributes  is  not  the  merits  themselves. 
Thus,  then,  my  conclusion  is  true  ;  and  the  Constitution, 
which  you  invoke  with  so  much  noise,  bears  testimony 
with  me  to  the  truth  which  I  proclaim." 

Dc  Vio  still  holds  the  book  in  his  hand  ;  his  eyes  are 
still  rivettcd  on  the  fatal  passage ;  but  he  has  nothing 
to  reply.  Thus  he  is  taken  in  the  net  which  he  him- 
self had  laid,  aud  Luther,  with  strong  hand,  keeps  him, 
in,  to  the  inexpressible  astonishment  of  the  Italian 
courtiers  around  him.  The  legate  would  have  evaded 
the  difficulty,  but  could  not.  He  had  long  abandoned 
the  testimony  of  Scripture  and  the  authority  of  the 
Fathers ;  he  had  taken  refuge  in  this  "  Extravagance  " 
of  Clement  VI.,  and  there  he  is  caught.  Still,  he  has 
too  much  fuiesse  to  let  his  embarrassment  appear. 
Wishing  to  hide  his  shame,  the  prince  of  the  Church 
suddenly  changes  the  subject,  and  rushes  violently 
to  other  articles.  Luther,  who  perceives  the  adroit 
mantcuvre,  allows  him  not  to  escape ;  he  grasps  and 
completely  closes  the  net  which  he  has  thrown  over  the 
cardinal,  and  makes  evasion  impossible.  "  Most  rever- 
end father ! "  says  he,  with  an  irony  clothed  in  the  form 
of  respect,  "your  eminence  cannot  surely  think  that  we 
Germans  do  not  know  grammar  ;  to  be  a  treasure,  and 
to  acquire  a  treasure,  arc  very  different  things." 

"  Retract !"  says  De  Vio  ;  •'  retract !  or  if  you  don't, 
I  send  you  to  Rome,  to  appear  there  before  the  judges 
entrusted  with  the  cognizance  of  your  cause.  I  ex- 
communicate you, — you,  all  your  partizans,  all  who  are 
or  may  become  favourable  to  j-ou  ;  and  I  reject  them 
from  the  Cluu-ch.  Full  authority,  in  this  respect,  has 
been  given  me  by  the  holy  apostolic  see.  Think  you 
your  protectors  can  stop  me  ?  Do  you  imagine  that 
the  pope  cares  for  Germany?  The  little  finger  of  the 
pope  is  stronger  than  all  the  German  princes." 

"Deign,"  replied  Luther,  "to  send  the  written  reply 
which  I  handed  you  to  Pope  Leo  X.,  with  my  very 
humble  prayers." 


At  these  words,  the  legate,  glad  to  find  a  moment's 
respite,  again  wraps  himself  up  in  a  feeling  of  his 
dignity,  and  proudly  and  passionately  says  to  Luther : 

"  Retract !  or  return  not." 

Luther  is  struck  with  the  expression.  This  time  he 
gives  no  verbal  answer,  but  bows  and  takes  his  leave, 
followed  by  the  elector's  councillors.  The  cardinal 
aud  his  Italians,  left  alone,  stare  at  each  other,  con- 
founded at  the  issue  of  the  debate. 

Thus  the  Dominican  system,  clad  in  the  Roman 
purple,  had  proudly  di^niis-^cd  its  humble  opponent. 
But  Luther  felt  that  tliL-re  is  a  power, — viz..  Christian 
truth, — truth,  which  no  authority,  secular  or  spiritual, 
can  ever  subdue,  Of  the  two  combatants,  he  who 
withdrew  was  master  of  the  field. 

This  is  the  first  step  by  which  the  Church  detached 
herself  from  the  papacy. 

Luther  and  De  Vio  never  saw  each  other  again  ;  but 
the  reformer  had  made  a  powerful  impression  on  the 
legate — an  impression  which  was  never  entirely  effaced. 
What  Luther  had  said  on  faith,  and  what  De  Vio  read 
in  the  subsequent  writings  of  the  doctor  of  Wittembcrg, 
greatly  modilied  the  cardinal's  views.  The  theologians 
of  Rome  were  surprised  and  displeased  at  his  statements 
on  justification  in  his  commentary  on  the  Epistle  to  the 
Romans.  The  reformer  did  not  recoil — did  not  retract ; 
but  his  judge,  he  who  never  ceased  exclaiming.  Retract  I 
changed  his  views,  and  indirectly  retracted  his  errors. 
In  this  way  was  the  reformer's  unshaken  fidelity  re- 
warded. 

Luther  returned  to  the  convent  where  he  had  met 
with  hospitality.  He  had  stood  firm,  had  borne  testi- 
mony to  the  truth,  and  done  his  part.  God  will  do  the 
rest.     His  heart  was  filled  with  peace  and  joy. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

De  Vio  and  Stiupitz— St.iupitz  and  Luther— Luther  and  Spalatiu— Luther 
to  Carlstadt— Comnumion— Link  and  De  Vio— Departure  of  Staupitz 
and  Link— Luther  to  Cfyetan- The  Cardinal's  Silence— Luther's  farewell 
— Departure— Appeal  to  the  Pope. 

Still  the  news  brought  to  him  were  not  at  all  satis- 
factory. The  rumour  in  the  town  was,  that  if  he 
would  not  retract,  he  was  to  be  seized  aud  immured  in 
a  dungeon.  The  vicar-general  of  the  order,  Staupitz 
himself,  it  was  confidently  said,  had  been  obliged  to 
consent  to  it.  Luther  cannot  believe  what  is  told  him 
of  his  friend.  No!  Staupitz  will  not  betray  him.  As  to 
the  designs  of  the  cardinal,  judging  by  his  own  words, 
it  is  diiHcult  to  doubt.  Still  he  is  unwilling  to  flee 
before  the  danger  ;  his  life,  like  truth  herself,  is  in 
mighty  hands;  and,  notwithstanding  of  the  danger 
which  threatens  him,  he  resolves  not  to  quit  Augsburg. 
The  legale  soon  repented  of  his  violence.  He  felt 
that  he  had  gone  out  of  his  course,  and  he  was  desirous 
to  return  to  it.  Scarcely  had  Staupitz  fiuished  dinner, 
(it  was  the  morning  when  the  interview  had  taken 
place,  and  the  dinner-hour  was  mid-day.)  when  he 
received  a  message  from  the  cardinal  to  wait  upon 
him.     Staupitz  was  accompanied  by  Winceslaus  Link. 


HISTOEY  OF  THE  EEFOEMATION. 


The  vicar-general  founcl  the  legate  alone  with  Sen-a- 
Louga.  De  Vio  immediately  went  up  to  Staupitz,  and, 
in  the  mildest  accents,  said  to  liini :  "  Try,  then,  to 
persuade  your  monk,  and  induce  him  to  make  a  retrac- 
tation. Of  a  truth  I  am  otherwise  satisfied  with  him, 
and  he  has  not  a  better  friend  than  I." 

Staiqyitx. — "I  have  done  so  already,  and  will  still 
counsel  him  to  submit  to  the  Church  in  all  humility." 

De  Vio. — ••  You  must  answer  the  ai'guments  which 
he  draws  from  holy  Scripture." 

Staupitz. — "  I  must  confess  to  you,  my  lord,  that 
that  is  beyond  my  strength ;  for  Dr.  Martin  is  my 
superior  both  in  talent  and  in  knowledge  of  the  Holy 
Scriptures. 

The  cardinal,  doubtless,  smiled  at  the  vicar-general's 
frankness.  He  himself  knew,  besides,  wherein  lay  the 
difficulty  of  convincing  Luther.  He  continued,  and 
said  to  Link  : — ■ 

"Are  you  aware  that,  as  partizans  of  a  heretical 
doctrine,  you  are  yourselves  liable  to  the  pains  of  the 
Church?" 

Staiipitt. — •'  Deign  to  resume  the  conference  with 
Luther.  Appoint  a  public  discussion  of  the  contro- 
verted points." 

De  Vio,  {tcrrijjcd  at  tJie  verij  idea.) — '•!  wont  have 
any  further  discussion  with  that  beast.  For  it  has  in 
its  head  piercing  eyes  and  strange  speculations." 

Staupitz  at  last  obtained  the  cardinal's  promise  to 
give  Luther  a  written  statement  of  what  he  was  to 
retract. 

The  vicar-general  went  immediately  to  Luther,  and, 
shaken  by  the  cardinal's  representations,  tried  to  bring 
about  some  arrangement.  "  Refute,  then,"  says  Luther, 
"the  passages  of  Scripture  which  I  have  brought  for- 
ward." "  It  is  above  my  power,"  said  Staupitz. 
"  AYell,"  said  Luther,  "  it  is  agaiust  my  conscience  to 
retract,  so  long  as  no  other  explanation  can  be  given 
of  these  passages."  "What!"  continued  he,  "the 
cardinal  pretends,  as  you  assure  me,  that  he  is  desirous 
to  arrange  the  affair  without  shame  or  disadvantage  to 
me.  Ah  !  these  are  Roman  words,  and  signify  in  good 
German  that  it  would  be  my  disgrace  and  eternal  ruin. 
What  else  has  he  to  expect,  Avho,  from  fear  of  man  and 
against  the  voice  of  his  conscience,  abjures  the  truth  ? " 

Staupitz  did  not  insist;  he  merely  intimated  that  the 
cardinal  had  consented  to  give  him  a  written  statement 
of  the  poinis  of  which  he  demanded  a  retractation. 
Then,  doubtless,  he  informed  him  of  his  resolution  to 
leave  Augsburg,  where  he  had  nothing  more  to  do,  and 
Luther  imparted  to  him  a  design  which  he  had  formed 
with  a  view  to  comfort  and  strengthen  their  souls. 

Staupitz  promised  to  return,  and  they  separated  for 
a  short  time. 

Luther,  left  alone  in  his  cell,  turned  his  thoughts  to- 
wards friends  wlio  were  dear  to  his  heart.  He  trans- 
])orted  himself  to  Weimar  and  Witteniberg.  He  was 
desirous  to  inform  the  elector  of  wluit  was  passing; 
and,  afraid  of  compromising  the  prince  by  addressing 
liim  directly,  wrote  to  Spalatin,  and  begged  him  to  in- 
form his  master  how  matters  stood.  He  related  the 
whole  affair,  even  to  the  promise  of  the  legate  to  give 
him  a  written  statement  of  the  controverted  points,  and 
concluded:  "Thus  matters  are;  but  I  have  neither 
hope  nor  confidence  in  the  legate.     I  will  not  retract  a 


single  syllable.  I  mil  publish  the  reply  which  I  have 
sent  him,  in  order  that,  if  he  proceeds  to  violence,  his 
shame  may  extend  over  all  Christendom." 

The  doctor  next  availed  himself  of  some  moments 
still  left  him  to  communicate  with  his  friends  at  Wit- 
temberg. 

"Peace  and  felicity!"  wrote  he  to  Doctor  Carlstadt. 
"  Accept  these  few  lines  as  if  they  were  a  long  letter ; 
for  time  and  events  are  pressing  on  me.  Another  time 
I  wiU  write  you  and  others  at  greater  length.  For 
three  days  my  affair  has  been  under  discussion,  and 
things  are  now  come  to  this,  that  I  have  no  hope  of 
returning  to  you,  and  expect  nothing  but  excommuni- 
cation. The  legate  is  absolutely  determined  that  I 
shall  have  no  discussion,  either  public  or  private.  He 
s.iys,  he  wishes  not  to  be  my  judge,  but  my  father ;  and 
yet  the  only  words  he  will  hear  from  me  are,  '  I  retract, 
and  own  that  I  have  been  mistaken.'  These,  again, 
are  words  which  I  won't  say. 

"My  cause  is  in  so  much  the  greater  peril,  that  its 
judges  are  not  only  implacable  enemies,  but,  moreover, 
men  incapable  of  comprehending  it.  However,  the 
Lord  God  lives  and  reigns ;  to  His  care  I  commend  ray- 
self,  and  I  doubt  not  that,  in  answer  to  the  prayers  of 
some  j)ious  souls.  He  will  send  me  assistance ;  methinks 
I  feel  that  I  am  prayed  for. 

"  Either  I  shall  return  to  you  without  having  suffered 
harm,  or,  struck  with  excommunication,  will  be  obliged 
to  seek  an  asylum  elsewhere. 

"  Be  this  as  it  may,  comport  yourself  valiantly,  stand 
firm,  exalt  Christ  intrepidly  and  joyfull}'.     .     .     . 

"The  cardinal  always  calls  me  his  dear  son.  I 
know  what  this  amouuts  to.  Nevertheless,  I  am  per- 
suaded I  would  be  to  him  the  dearest  and  most  agree- 
able of  men,  if  I  would  only  pronounce  the  single  word 
Eevoca,  I  retract.  But  I  will  not  become  a  heretic  by 
retracting  the  faith  which  made  me  become  a  Chris- 
tian. Better  be  hunted,  cursed,  burnt,  and  put  to 
death.     .     .     . 

"Take  care  of  yourself,  my  dear  doctor,  and  shew 
this  letter  to  our  theologians,  to  Amsdorff,  Philip, 
Otten,  and  others,  in  order  that  you  may  pray  for  mc, 
and  also  for  yourselves ;  for  the  affair  which  is  here 
discussed  is  yours  also.  It  is  that  of  faith  in  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  and  of  divine  grace." 

Delightful  thought !  which  ever  gives  full  peace  and 
consolation  to  those  who  have  borne  testimony  to  Jesus 
Christ,  to  His  divinity  and  grace,  when  the  world  from 
all  quarters  showers  down  its  censures,  ejections,  and 
frowns.  "Our  cause  is  that  of  faith  in  our  Lord!' 
And  how  sweet  also  the  conviction  expressed  by  the 
reformer,  "  I  feel  tliat  I  am  prayed  for."  The  Refor- 
mation was  the  work  of  prayer  and  piety.  Tlie 
struggle  between  Luther  and  De  Vio  was  a  struggle 
between  the  religious  element  re-appearing  in  full  life, 
and  the  expiring  remains  of  the  quibbling  dialectics  of 
the  Middle  Ages. 

Such  was  Luther's  converse  with  his  absent  friends. 
Stau))itz  soon  returned ;  Doctor  Ruhel  and  the  Cheva- 
lier de  Ferlitzoch,  the  elector's  envoys,  also  arrived 
after  they  had  taken  leave  of  the  cardiual.  Some 
other  friends  of  the  Gospel  joined  them ;  and  Luther, 
seeing  the  generous  men  thus  assembled  on  the  point 
of  separating,  perhaps  separating  from  himself  for  ever, 


LUTHER  TO  DE  A^IO. 


proposed  that  Ihcy  should  join  in  celebrating  the  Lord's 
Supper-  The  proposal  was  accepted,  and  this  little 
flock  of  believer's  communicated  in  the  body  and  blood 
of  Jesus  Christ.  AVhat  feelings  must  have  filled  the 
hearts  of  these  friends  of  the  reformer  at  this  moment 
when  celebrating  the  Eucharist  with  him,  and  thinking 
that  it  was,  perha]>s,  the  last  time  he  would  be  per- 
mitted to  do  so !  What  joy  and  love  must  have  ani- 
nnitcd  Luther's  heart  at  seeing  himself  so  graciously 
i  received  by  his  IMastcr  at  an  hour  when  men  were 
repulsing  him !  IIow  solcnui  must  that  supper  have 
been — how  sacred  that  evening ! 

The  next  day  Luther  waited  for  the  articles  which 
the  legate  was  to  send  him ;  but  no  message  arriving, 
he  begged  his  friend.  Dr.  Winceslaus  Link,  to  go  to 
the  cardinal.  De  Vio  received  Link  with  the  greatest 
affability,  and  assured  liim  that  he  would  act  only  as  a 
friend.  "  I  no  longer,"  says  he,  "  regard  Doctor  Mar- 
tin Luther  as  a  heretic.  I  will  not  excommunicate  him 
at  this  time,  at  least  if  I  do  not  receive  other  orders 
from  Kome.  I  have  sent  his  reply  to  the  pope  by  an 
express."  Then,  to  give  a  proof  of  his  good  intentions, 
he  added:  '•Would  Doctor  Martin  Luther  only  retract 
what  relates  to  the  indulgences,  the  affair  would  soon 
be  ended ;  for,  with  regard  to  faith  in  the  sacrament, 
it  is  an  article  which  every  one  may  interpret  and 
understand  in  his  own  way."  Spalatin,  who  relates 
these  words,  adds  the  sarcastic,  but  just  remark:  "It 
clearly  follows,  that  Rome  has  more  regard  for  money 
than  for  the  purity  of  the  faith  and  the  salvation  of 
souls." 

Link  returned  to  Luther.  He  found  Staupilz  with 
him,  and  gave  an  account  of  his  visit.  When  he 
mentioned  tiic  legate's  unlocked  for  concession,  ''It 
had  been  worth  while,"  said  Staupitz,  "for  Dr.  Win- 
ceslaus  to  have  had  a  notary  and  witnesses  with  him  to 
take  down  the  words,  for  if  such  a  proposal  was  known 
it  would  greatly  prejudice  the  cause  of  the  Romans." 

Meanwhile,  the  smoother  the  prelate's  words  became, 
the  less  the  honest  Germans  trusted  him.  Several  of 
the  worthy  men  to  wliom  Luther  had  been  recom- 
mended consulted  together.  "  The  legate,"  said  they, 
"  is  plotting  some  mischief  by  the  courier  of  whom  he 
speaks ;  there  is  good  ground  to  fear  that  you  will  all 
be  seized  and  cast  into  prison." 

Staupitz  and  AViucoslaus,  therefore,  determined  to 
quit  the  towu.  Embracing  Luther,  who  persisted  in 
remaining  at  Augsburg,  they  set  out  in  all  haste  by 
different  roads  for  Nuremberg,  not  without  a  feeling  of 
great  uneasiness  as  to  the  fate  of  the  intrepid  witness 
whom  they  left  behind. 

Sunday  p;issed  quietly  cuougli.  Luther  waited  in 
vain  for  a  message  from  the  legate.  But  as  he  did  not 
send  him  a  word,  Luther  at  last  resolved  to  write  him. 
Staupitz  and  Link,  before  their  departure,  had  begged 
him  to  make  all  possible  submission  to  the  cardinal. 
Luther  was  yet  without  experience  in  Rome  and  its 
envoys;  but  if  submission  did  not  succeed,  he  would 
be  able  to  regard  it  as  a  warning.  Now  he  must 
at  least  make  the  attempt.  In  so  far  as  concerns 
himself,  not  a  day  passes  in  which  he  docs  not  condemn 
himself,  does  not  mourn  over  the  facility  with  which 
he  allows  himself  to  be  hurried  into  expressions  which 
exceed  the  bounds  of  propriety.     Why  should  he  not 


confess  to  the  cardinal  tliat  which  he  daily  confesses 
to  God  ?  Luther,  moreover,  had  a  heart  which  was 
easily  touched,  and  which  suspected  no  e^'il.  He 
therefore  took  up  the  pen,  and,  under  a  feeling  of  re- 
spect and  good  will,  wrote  to  the  cardinal  as  follows  : — 

"  !5Io»T  WORTHY  Fatiieu  in  God, — I  come  once 
more,  not  with  my  voice,  but  by  writing,  to  supplicate 
your  paternal  goodness  to  give  me  a  favourable  hear- 
ing. The  reverend  Doctor  Staupitz,  my  very  dear 
father  in  Christ,  has  asked  me  to  humble  myself,  to 
renounce  my  own  opinion,  and  submit  it  to  the  judg- 
ment of  pious  and  impartial  men.  He  also  has  lauded 
your  paternal  goodness,  and  convinced  me  of  the 
favourable  sentiments  with  which  you  are  animated 
towards  me.     The  tidings  filled  me  with  joy. 

"  Now,  then,  most  worthy  father,  I  confess,  as  I  have 
already  done,  that  I  have  not  shewn  enough  of  mo- 
dest}', enough  of  meekness,  enough  of  respect  for  the 
name  of  the  sovereign  pontiff ;  and  although  I  have 
been  greatly  provoked,  I  perceive  it  would  have  been 
far  better  for  me  to  have  treated  the  affair  with  more 
humility,  good  nature,  and  reverence,  not  answerinff  a 
fool  accordinf)  to  his  foUy^  for  fear  of  being  like  unto  him. 
(Prov.  xxvi.  4.) 

"  This  grieves  me  very  much  ;  I  ask  pardon  for  it ; 
and  I  am  willing  to  announce  it  to  the  people  from  the 
pulpit,  as  indeed  I  have  already  often  done.  I  will 
endeavour,  by  the  grace  of  God,  to  speak  differently. 
Moreover,  I  am  ready  to  pi-omise,  that,  unless  I  am 
asked,  I  will  not  say  a  single  word  on  the  subject  of 
indulgences  after  this  affair  is  arranged.  But,  in  like 
manner,  let  those  who  led  me  to  begin  it,  be  obliged 
hereafter  to  be  moderate  in  their  discourses,  or  to  be 
silent. 

'•  As  regards  the  truth  of  my  doctrine,  the  authority 
of  St.  Thomas  and  other  doctors  cannot  satisfy  me. 
If  I  am  worthy  of  it,  I  must  hear  the  voice  of  the 
spouse,  who  is  the  Church.  For  it  is  certain  that  she 
hears  the  voice  of  the  Bridegroom,  who  is  Christ. 

"  With  all  humility  and  submission,  therefore,  I  pray 
your  paternal  love  to  refer  the  whole  of  this  matter, 
which  to  this  hour  is  so  uucertaiu,  to  our  most  holy 
lord,  Leo  X.,  in  order  that  the  Church  may  decide, 
pronounce,  and  ordain,  thereby  enabling  me  to  retract 
with  a  good  conscience,  or  to  believe  in  sincerity." 

The  reading  of  this  letter  suggests  a  reflection.  It 
shews  us  that  Luther  Avas  not  acting  on  a  premeditated 
system,  but  only  in  virtue  of  convictions  which  were 
successively  impressed  on  his  mind  aud  his  heart. 

So  far  from  having  adopted  a  fixed  system,  or  calcu- 
lated opposition,  he  was  sometimes,  without  suspecting 
it,  at  variance  with  himself.  Old  convictions  still 
prevailed  in  his  mind,  even  after  contrary  convictions 
had  taken  root.  And  yet,  in  these  evidences  of  sin- 
cerity and  truth  men  have  searched  for  weapons  to 
assail  the  Reformation ;  because  it  followed  the  obli- 
gatory law  of  progress  invariably  imposed  on  the 
human  mind,  they  have  written  the  history  of  its 
variations ;  in  the  very  traits  which  attest  its  sincerity, 
and  consequently  do  it  honour,  one  of  the  greatest 
geniuses  of  Christendom  has  found  his  strongest  objec- 
tions to  it.  Inconceivable  is  the  waywardness  of  the 
human  mind ! 

Luther  received  uo  answer  to  his  letter.     Cajetan 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


and  his  courtiers,  from  being  violently  agitated,  became 
all  at  once  motionless.  What  could  the  reason  be? 
Might  it  not  be  the  calm  which  precedes  the  storm  ? 
Some  are  of  the  opinion  of  Pallavicini,  who  observes, 
that  "  the  cardinal  expected  that  the  proud  monk  would, 
like  inflated  bellows,  gradually  lose  the  wind  with 
which  he  was  filled,  and  become  quite  humble." 
Others,  who  thought  themselves  better  acquainted  with 
the  ways  of  Rome,  felt  assured  that  the  legate  was 
preparing  to  seize  Luther  ;  but  not  daring,  of  his  own 
accord,  to  proceed  to  such  extremities  in  defiance  of 
the  imperial  safe-conduct,  was  waiting  for  an  answer 
from  Kome.  Others,  again,  could  not  admit  that  the 
cardinal  would  consent  to  wait  so  long.  The  Emperor 
Maximilian,  they  said,  (and  this  may  indeed  have  been 
true.)  would  have  no  more  scruple  in  delivering  up 
Luther  to  the  judgment  of  the  Church,  in  spite  of  the 
safe-conduct,  than  Sigismund  had  in  delivering  up  John 
Huss  to  the  Council  of  Constance.  Their  conjecture, 
therefore,  was,  that  the  legate  was  negotiating  with 
the  emperor.  The  sanction  of  Maximilian  might  arrive 
at  any  hour.  The  greater  the  opposition  he  had  for- 
merly shewed  to  the  pope,  the  more  disposed  he  now 
seemed  to  flatter  him,  until  he  should  succeed  in  en- 
circling the  head  of  his  grandson  with  the  imperial 
crown.  There  was  not  an  instant  to  be  lost,  "and, 
therefore,"  said  the  generous  men  around  Luther, 
'•  prepare  an  appeal  to  the  pope,  and  quit  Augsburg 
without  delay." 

Luther,  whose  presence  in  the  town  had  for  four 
days  been  quite  useless,  and  who,  by  remaining  these 
four  days  after  the  departure  of  the  Saxon  councillors 
whom  the  elector  had  sent  to  watch  over  his  safety, 
had  suificiently  demonstrated  that  he  feared  nothing, 
and  was  ready  to  answer  every  charge,  at  length 
yielded  to  the  urgent  entreaties  of  his  friends.  Wish- 
ing to  leave  a  notification  to  De  Vio,  he  wrote  him 
on  Tuesday,  the  evening  before  his  departure.  This 
second  letter  is  firmer  in  its  tone  than  the  former.  It 
would  seem  that  Luther,  in  perceiving  that  all  his 
advances  were  vain,  began  to  hold  up  his  head,  and 
shew  that  he  had  a  due  sense  both  of  his  own  rights 
and  of  the  injustice  of  his  enemies. 

"Most  worthy  Father  in  God,"  wrote  he  to  De  Vio, 
"  your  paternal  goodness  has  seen, — yes,  I  say,  seen 
and  distinctly  recognized  my  obedience.  I  have  under- 
taken a  distant  journey,  in  the  midst  of  great  dangers, 
in  much  bodily  weakness,  and  notwithstanding  of  my 
extreme  poverty,  on  the  order  of  our  most  holy  lord, 
Leo  X.  I  have  appeared  personally  before  your 
eminence ;  in  fine,  I  have  thrown  myself  at  the  feet  of 
his  holiness,  and  am  now  waiting  his  pleasure,  prepared 
to  acquiesce  in  his  judgment,  whether  he  condemn  or 
acquit  me.  I  thus  feel  that  I  have  omitted  nothing 
which  becomes  an  obedient  sou  of  the  Church. 

"  Hence,  I  cannot  see  it  to  be  my  duty  uselessly  to 
prolong  my  sojourn  here ;  indeed,  it  is  impossible  for 
me  to  do  so.  I  want  means,  and  your  paternal  good- 
ness has  commanded  me,  in  peremptory  terms,  not 
again  to  shew  myself  in  your  presence,  unless  I  am 
willing  to  retract. 

"  I  depart,  therefore,  in  the  name  of  the  Lord,  desir- 
ing, if  it  be  possible,  to  repair  to  some  spot  where  I 
may  be  able  to  live  in  peace.     Several  personages,  of 


greater  weight  than  I  am,  have  urged  me  to  appeal 
from  your  paternal  goodness,  and  even  from  our  most 
holy  lord,  Leo  X.,  ill  informed,  to  himself  better  in- 
formed. Although  I  know  that  such  an  appeal  will  be 
much  more  agreeable  to  our  most  serene  elector  than  a 
retractation,  nevertheless,  if  I  had  only  had  myself  to 
consult,  I  would  not  have  taken  it.  Having  com- 
mitted no  fault,  I  ought  to  have  nothing  to  fear." 

Luther,  having  written  this  letter,  which  was  not 
sent  to  the  legate  till  after  his  departure,  prepared  to 
quit  Augsburg.  God  had  kept  him  till  this  hour,  and 
his  heart  praised  Him  for  it ;  but  he  must  not  tempt 
God.  He  took  leave  of  his  friends,  Peutinger,  Lange- 
mantel,  the  Adelmanns,  Auerbach,  and  the  prior  of  the 
Carmelites,  who  had  shewn  him  so  much  Christian 
hospitality.  On  Wednesday  before  daybreak  he  got 
up,  and  was  ready  to  depart.  His  friends  had  advised 
him  to  use  gi-eat  precaution,  lest  his  intention  should 
be  observed  and  frustrated ;  and  he  followed  their 
counsels  as  much  as  he  could.  A  pony,  which  Stau- 
pitz  had  left  him,  was  brought  to  the  gate  of  the  con- 
vent, and  once  more  bidding  adieu  to  his  brethren,  he 
mounted  and  set  off,  without  bridle,  boots,  or  spurs, 
and  unarmed.  The  magistrates  had  sent  one  of  their 
oflicers  on  horseback,  who  was  to  accompany  him,  and 
who  knew  the  roads  perfectly.  The  servant  led  him, 
in  the  darkness,  through  the  silent  streets  of  Augs- 
burg, towards  a  small  gate  which  was  pierced  in  the 
city  wall,  and  which  councillor  Langemautel  had  given 
orders  should  be  opened  to  him.  He  is  slill  iu  the 
power  of  the  legate,  and  the  hand  of  Rome  may  still 
reach  him.  Doubtless,  did  the  Italians  know  that  their 
prey  was  escajiing,  they  would  sally  forth  in  fury  with 
hue  and  cry.  Who  knows  if  the  intrepid  opponent  of 
Rome  will  not  yet  be  seized  and  immured  in  a  dun- 
geon ?  ...  At  length  Luther  and  his  guide  arrive 
at  the  little  gate,  and,  passing  through  it,  are  out  of 
Augsburg.  Then,  putting  their  horses  to  the  gallop, 
they  make  off  in  all  haste. 

Luther,  on  departing,  had  left  his  appeal  to  the  pope 
in  the  hands  of  the  prior  of  Pomesaw.  His  friends 
were  of  opinion  that  it  should  not  he  sent  to  the  legate, 
and  the  prior  was  therefore  charged  to  see  to  its  being 
fixed  up,  two  or  three  days  after  the  doctor's  depart- 
ure, on  the  gate  of  the  cathedral,  in  presence  of  a 
notary  and  witnesses.     This  was  accordingly  done. 

In  this  document  Luther  declares  that  he  appeals 
from  the  most  holy  father  the  pope,  ill  formed,  to  the 
most  holy  lord  and  father  in  Christ,  by  name  Leo  X., 
by  the  grace  of  God,  when  better  informed.  This 
appeal  had  been  regularly  drawn  up  and  executed  in 
due  form  by  Gall  de  Herbrachtingen,  the  imperial 
notary,  in  presence  of  two  Augustine  monks,  Bartho- 
lomew L^tzmair  and  AVenzel  Steinbies.  It  was  dated 
IGth  October. 

AVhen  the  cardinal  was  informed  of  Luther's  depart- 
ure, he  was  astonished,  and  even,  as  he  declares  in  a 
letter  to  the  elector,  was  frightened  and  amazed.  In 
fact  he  had  grounds  for  irritation.  This  departure, 
which  put  so  abrupt  a  termination  to  negotiation, 
disappointed  the  hopes  which  had  so  long  flattered 
him.  His  ambition  was  to  cure  the  wounds  of  the 
Church,  and  re-establish  the  pope's  influence  in  Ger- 
many; and,  lo  !  the  heretic  has  escaped  not  only  with- 


LUTHER'S  FLIGHT. 


123 


out  having  been  punished,  but  even  without  having 
been  humbled.  The  conference  had  only  served  to 
bring  more  prominently  into  view,  on  the  one  hand, 
the  simplicity,  uprightness,  aud  firmness  of  Luther; 
and,  on  the  other,  tlie  iniperiousness  aud  unreasonable 
conduct  of  the  pope  and  his  ambassador.  Kome  hav- 
ing gained  nothing,  must  have  lost :  her  authority  not 
having  been  strengthened,  had,  of  necessity,  experi- 
enced a  new  check.  AVhat  will  be  said  at  the  Vatican  '. 
What  tidings  will  arrive  at  Rome  .'  The  difl'iculties 
of  his  situation  will  be  forgotten,  and  the  failure  im- 
puted to  his  want  of  skill.  Scrra-Longa  and  the 
Italians  are  furious  at  seeing  persons  of  their  ability 
outwitted  by  a  German  monk .  De  Mo  is  scarcely  able 
to  conceal  his  irritation.  The  affront  cries  for  venge- 
ance, and  we  shall  soon  see  him  giving  vent  to  his 
wrath  in  a  letter  to  the  elector. 


CHAPTER  X. 

Lather's  Flight— Admiration— Luther's  Wish— The  Legate  to  the  Elector- 
Elector  to  the  Legate— Prosperity  of  the  University. 

LuTHEK  continued  with  his  guide  to  flee  from  Augs- 
burg. He  urged  his  steed  to  the  utmost  speed  that 
the  poor  animal's  strength  would  permit.  He  thought 
of  the  real  or  supposed  flight  of  John  Huss,  the  man- 
ner in  which  he  was  laid  hold  of,  and  the  assertion  of 
his  adversaries,  who  pretended  that  the  flight  annulled 
the  emperor's  safe-conduct,  aud  entitled  them  to  con- 
demn him  to  the  flames.  These  uneasy  thoughts 
merely  crossed  Luther's  mind.  Escaped  from  the 
town  where  he  had  passed  ten  days  under  the  terrible 
band  of  Rome,  which  had  already  crushed  so  mtiny 
thousand  witnesses  of  the  truth,  aud  drenched  herself 
with  blood, — now  that  he  is  free,  now  that  he  breathes 
the  pure  air  of  the  field,  and  traverses  the  villages  aud 
plains — now  that  he  sees  himself  wonderfully  delivered, 
— his  whole  soul  magnifies  the  Lord.  Truly  he  may 
now  say:  Our  soul  is  escaped  as  a  bird  out  of  the  snare 
of  the  folders :  the  snare  is  broken,  and  ice  are  escaped. 
Our  help  is  in  the  name  of  the  Lord,  who  made  heaven  and 
earth.  Luther's  heart  is  thus  filled  with  joy.  But  his 
thoughts  also  revert  to  De  Vio.  "The  cardinal,"  sa3-s 
he,  "  would  have  liked  to  have  me  in  his  hands  to  send 
me  to  Rome.  No  doubt  he  is  chagrined  at  my  escape. 
He  imagined  that  he  was  master  of  me  at  Augsburg, — 
he  thought  he  was  sure  of  me ;  but  he  had  an  eel  by 
the  tail.  Is  it  not  a  shame  in  these  people  to  set  so 
high  a  price  upon  me?  They  would  give  many  crowns 
to  have  me,  whereas  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  was  sold 
for  thirty  pieces  of  silver." 

The  first  day  Luther  travelled  fourteen  leagues.  In 
the  evening,  on  arriving  at  the  inn  where  he  was  to 
pass  the  night,  he  was  so  fatigued  (■•  his  horse,"  says 
one  of  his  biographers,  '•  had  a  very  hard  trot ")  that, 
on  dismounting,  he  could  not  stand  erect,  and  stretched 
himself  out  upon  the  straw.  He,  nevertheless,  enjoyed 
some  sleep,  and  the  next  day  continued  his  journey. 
At  Nuremberg  he  found  Staupitz  on  a  visit  to  the 


convents  of  his  order,  and,  for  the  first  time,  saw  the 
brief  which  the  pope  had  sent  to  Cajetan  respecting 
him.  He  was  indignant  at  it.  In  all  probability,  if 
he  had  read  it  before  his  departure  from  Witteinberg, 
he  would  never  have  appeared  before  the  cardinal. 
'•It  is  impossible  to  believe,"  says  he,  "that  anything 
so  monstrous  could  emanate  from  a  sovereign  pontiff." 

Throughout  the  journey  Luther  was  an  object  of 
general  interest.  He  had  not  yielded  a  whit.  Such  a 
victory,  gained  by  a  mendicant  monk  over  a  represen- 
tative of  Rome,  e.xcited  universal  admiration.  Ger- 
many seemed  avenged  for  the  contempt  of  Italy.  The 
eternal  AVord  had  been  more  honoured  than  tlic  word 
of  the  pope  ;  anil  that  vast  power  which  had  domineered 
over  the  world  for  so  many  ages,  had  received  an 
important  check.  Luther's  journey  was  a  triumph. 
People  were  delighted  with  the  obstinacy  of  Rome, 
hoping  that  it  would  hasten  her  downfall.  Had  she 
not  chosen  to  keep  fast  hold  of  dishonest  gains, — had 
she  been  wise  enough  not  to  despise  the  Germans, — ■ 
had  she  reformed  clamant  abuses, — perhaps,  according 
to  human  views,  things  might  have  returned  to  the 
state  of  death  out  of  which  Luther  had  aroused  them. 
But  the  papacy  chooses  not  to  yield,  and  the  doctor 
will  see  himself  constrained  to  bring  many  other  errors 
to  light,  and  to  advance  iu  the  knowledge  and  the 
manifestation  of  the  truth. 

On  the  26th  October  Luther  arrived  at  Grsfenthal, 
situated  at  the  extremity  of  the  forests  of  Thuringia. 
Here  he  fell  in  with  Count  Albert  of  Mansfeld,  w-ho 
had  so  strongly  dissuaded  him  from  going  to  Augs- 
burg. The  count  laughed  heartily  on  seeing  his  singu- 
lar equipage ;  and,  laying  hands  ou  him,  obliged  him 
to  become  his  guest.  Shortly  after  Luther  resumed 
his  journey. 

He  made  haste  to  be  at  AVittemberg  by  the  31st 
October,  expecting  that  the  elector  would  be  there  at 
the  feast  of  All  Saints,  and  that  he  would  be  able  to 
see  him.  The  brief  which  he  had  read  at  Niu'embcrg 
had  made  him  fully  aware  of  the  danger  of  his  situa- 
tion. In  fact,  being  already  condemned  at  Rome,  he 
could  not  hope  either  to  remain  at  AVittcmberg,  or  to 
obtain  an  asylum  in  a  convent,  or  to  be  in  peace  aud 
safety  anywhere  else.  The  protection  of  the  elector 
might,  perhaps,  defend  him ;  but  he  was  far  from  be- 
ing able  to  calculate  upon  it.  He  could  not  expect 
any  help  from  the  two  friends  whom  he  had  formerly 
had  at  the  court.  Staupit;:,  having  lost  the  favour  he 
long  enjoyed,  had  quitted  Saxony;  Spalatin  was  loved 
by  Frederick,  but  had  no  great  influence  over  him. 
The  elector  himself  was  not  so  well  acquainted  with 
the  Gospel  as  to  encounter  manifest  perils  on  account 
of  it.  However,  Luther  saw  nothing  better  which  he 
could  do  than  return  to  AVittemberg,  aud  there  await 
the  decision  of  an  almighty  and  merciful  God.  If,  as 
several  thought,  he  were  left  at  liberty,  his  wish  was 
to  devote  himself  entirely  to  study  and  to  the  education 
of  youth. 

Luther  did  arrive  at  AVittemberg  by  the  30th  Octo- 
ber ;  but  his  haste  had  been  to  no  purpose,  for  neithei 
the  elector  nor  Spalatin  came  to  the  festival.  His 
friends  were  overjoyed  on  seeing  him  again  among 
them.  The  very  day  of  his  arrival  he  hastened  to  an- 
nounce it  to  Spalatin :  "  I  came  back  to  AVittemberg 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


to-day,  safe  and  sound,  by  the  grace  of  God ;  but  how 
long  I  shall  remain,  is  more  than  I  know.  ...  I 
am  filled  with  joy  and  peace ;  so  much  so,  that  I  can- 
not help  wondering  liow  the  trial  which  I  endure 
appears  so  great  to  so  many  great  personages." 

De  Vio  did  not  wait  long,  after  Luther's  departure, 
to  vent  all  his  indignation  to  the  elector.  His  letter 
breathes  vengeance.  lu  an  assuming  tone  he  gives 
Frederick  an  account  of  the  conference.  "  Since  friar 
Martin,"  says  he,  in  conclusion,  "  cannot  be  brought 
by  paternal  methods  to  acknowledge  his  error,  and 
remain  faithful  to  the  Catholic  Church,  I  pray  your 
highness  to  send  him  to  Rome,  or  banish  him  from 
your  states.  Be  assured  that  this  difficult,  naughty, 
and  venomous  affair,  cannot  last  longer ;  for,  when  I 
shall  have  acquainted  our  most  holy  lord  with  all  the 
craft  and  malice,  there  will  soon  be  au  end  of  it."  In 
a  postscript,  in  his  own  hand,  the  cardinal  entreats  the 
elector  not  to  sully  his  own  honour,  and  that  of  his 
illustrious  ancestors,  for  a  miserable  paltry  friar. 

Never,  perhaps,  was  the  soul  of  Luther  filled  with 
nobler  indignation  than  on  reading  the  copy  of  this 
letter  which  the  elector  sent  him.  The  thought  of  the 
sufferings  which  he  is  destined  to  endure,  the  value  of 
the  truth  for  which  he  is  combating,  the  contempt  he 
feels  for  the  conduct  of  the  legate  of  Rome,  at  once 
fill  his  heart.  His  reply,  written  under  the  influence 
of  those  feelings,  is  full  of  the  courage,  dignity,  and 
faith,  which  ho  always  manifested  in  the  most  difficult 
crisis  of  his  life.  He,  in  his  turn,  gives  an  account  of 
the  conference  of  Augsburg,  and  then,  after  exposing 
the  conduct  of  the  cardinal,  continues  : — 

"  I  should  like  to  answer  the  legate  in  the  elector's 
stead. 

"  '  Prove  that  you  speak  with  knowledge,'  I  would 
say  to  him;  'let  the  whole  affair  be  committed  to 
writing,  then  I  will  send  friar  Martin  to  Rome ;  or 
rather,  I  myself  will  cause  him  to  be  seized  and  put  to 
death.  I  will  take  care  of  my  conscience  and  my 
honour,  and  allow  no  stain  to  sully  my  fame.  But  as 
long  as  your  certain  knowledge  shuns  the  light,  and 
manifests  itself  only  by  clamour,  I  cannot  give  credit 
to  darkness.' 

"  This,  most  excellent  prince,  would  be  my  answer. 

'•Let  the  reverend  legate,  or  the  pope  himself,  give 
a  written  specification  of  my  errors  ;  let  them  explain 
their  reasons ;  let  them  instruct  me  who  desire,  who 
ask,  and  wish,  and  wait  for  instruction,  insomuch 
that  even  a  Turk  would  not  refuse  to  give  it.  If  I 
retract  not,  and  condemn  myself  after  they  shall  have 
proved  to  me  that  the  passages  which  I  have  cited 
ought  to  be  understood  differently  from  Avhat  I  have 
done,  then,  O  most  excellent  elector,  let  your  highness 
be  the  first  to  pursue  and  chase  me,  let  the  university 
discard  me  and  load  me  with  its  anger.  Nay,  more, 
(and  I  call  heaven  and  earth  to  witness.)  let  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  reject  and  condemn  me !  The  words 
which  I  speak  are  not  dictated  by  vain  presumption, 
but  by  immoveable  conviction.  I  am  willing  that  the 
Lord  God  withdraw  His  grace  from  me,  and  that  every 
creature  of  God  refuse  to  countenance  me,  if,  when  a 
better  doctrine  shall  have  been  shewn  to  me,  I  em- 
brace it  not. 

"  If,  on  account  of  the  humbleness  of  my  condition, 


they  despise  me,  a  poor  paltry  mendicant  friar,  and  if 
they  refuse  to  instruct  me  in  the  way  of  truth,  let  your 
highness  pray  the  legate  to  point  out  to  you  in  writin" 
wherein  I  have  erred ;  and  if  they  refuse  this  favour 
even  to  your  highness,  let  them  write  their  views 
either  to  his  imperial  majesty,  or  to  some  archbishop 
of  Germany.     AVhat  ought  I — what  can  I  say  more  ? 

"Let  your  highness  listen  to  the  voice  of  your 
honom-  and  your  conscience,  and  not  send  me  to  Rome. 
No  man  can  command  you  to  do  it,  for  it  is  impossible 
I  can  be  in  safety  at  Rome.  The  pope  himself  is  not 
in  safety  there.  It  would  be  to  order  you  to  betray 
Christian  blood.  They  have  paper,  pens,  and  ink,  and 
they  have  also  notaries  without  number.  It  is  easy  for 
them  to  write,  and  shew  wherein  and  how  I  have 
erred.  It  will  cost  less  to  instruct  me  by  writing  while 
I  am  absent,  than  while  present  to  accomplish  my 
death  by  stratagem. 

"I  resign  myself  to  exile.  My  enemies  are  so 
ensnaring  me  on  all  sides,  that  I  can  nowhere  live  in 
safety.  In  order  that  no  evil  may  befall  you  on  my 
account,  I,  in  the  name  of  God,  abandon  your  territor- 
ies. I  will  go  wherever  an  almighty  and  merciful  God 
wishes  me  to  be.  Let  Hiui  do  with  me  as  seemeth 
to  Him  good ! 

"Thus,  then,  most  serene  elector,  with  veneration  I 
bid  you  farewell.  I  commend  you  to  Almighty  God, 
and  give  you  immortal  thanks  for  all  your  kindness 
towards  me.  Whatever  be  the  people  among  whom  I 
shall  live  in  future,  I  will  always  remember  you,  and 
gratefully  pray,  without  ceasing,  for  the  happiness  of 
j'ou  and  yours.  ...  I  am  still,  thank  God,  full  of 
joy,  and  I  bless  Him  that  Christ  His  Son  counts  me 
worthy  of  suffering  in  so  holy  a  cause.  May  He 
eternally  guard  your  illustrious  highness  !     Amen  ! " 

This  letter,  so  replete  with  truth,  made  a  profound 
impression  on  the  elector.  "  He  was  shaken  by  a  very 
eloquent  letter,"  says  Maimbourg.  He  never  would 
have  thought  of  delivering  au  innocent  man  into  the 
hands  of  Rome.  Pci'haps  he  would  have  asked  Luther 
to  remain  for  some  time  in  concealment,  but  not  even 
in  appearance  would  he  have  yielded,  in  any  way,  to 
the  menaces  of  the  legate.  He  wrote  to  his  councillor 
Pfeflinger,  who  happened  to  be  with  the  emperor,  to 
make  him  acquainted  with  the  real  state  of  matters, 
and  beg  him  to  request  Rome  either  to  put  an  end  to 
the  affair,  or  at  least  leave  it  to  be  decided  in  Germany 
by  impartial  judges. 

Some  days  after  the  elector  replied  to  the  legate: 
"  Since  Doctor  Martin  appeared  before  you  at  Augs- 
burg, you  ought  to  be  satisfied.  We  did  not  expect 
that  without  having  convicted  him  you  would  have 
thought  of  constraining  him  to  retract.  None  of  the 
learned  in  our  dominions  have  told  us  that  the  doctrine 
of  Martin  is  impious,  autichristian,  and  heretical. 
The  prince  then  refuses  to  send  Luther  to  Rome,  or 
banish  him  from  his  states. 

This  letter,  which  was  communicated  to  Luther, 
filled  him  with  joy.  "  Good  God  ! "  wrote  he  to  Spa- 
latin,  "  with  what  joy  I  have  read  it  and  re-read  it.  I 
know  what  confidence  may  be  put  in  these  words,  so 
admirable  at  once  for  vigour  and  moderation.  I  fear 
the  Romans  will  not  comprehend  all  that  is  meant  by 
them;  but  they  will  at  least  comprehend  that  what  they 


THOUGHTS  OF  DEPARTURE. 


127 


thought  already  finished  is  not  even  begun.  Have  the 
goodness  to  present  my  thanks  to  the  prince.  It  is 
strange  that  lie  (Do  Vio)  wlio,  not  long  ago,  was  a 
mendicant  monk  like  nic,  is  not  afraid  to  accost  the 
I  most  powerful  princes  without  respect,  to  interpel, 
'  threaten,  and  command  them,  and  treat  them  with 
inconceivable  pride.  Let  him  learn  that  the  temporal 
power  is  of  God,  and  that  it  is  not  permitted  him  to 
trample  its  glory  under  foot." 

Frederick,  in  answering  the  legate  in  a  tone  which 
he  had  not  expected,  had  doubtless  been  encouraged  by 
an  address  which  he  had  received  from  the  university 
of  Wittemberg.  This  university  had  good  reason  for 
declaring  in  the  doctor's  favour,  inasmuch  as  it  was 
flourishing  more  and  more,  and  eclij)sing  all  the  other 
schools.  Crowds  of  students  flocked  from  all  parts  of 
Germany  to  hear  the  extraordinary  man  whose  lessons 
Beemcd  to  open  a  new  era  to  religion  and  science. 
These  youths  who  came  from  all  the  provinces,  stopped 
at  the  moment  when  they  perceived  the  steeples  of 
Wittemberg  in  the  distance,  and,  raising  their  hands 
to  heaven,  thanked  God  for  making  the  light  of  ti-utli 
shine  on  this  town  as  formerly  on  Zion,  and  send  its 
rays  even  to  the  remotest  countries.  A  life  and 
activity  hitherto  unknown  animated  the  university. 
"They  ply  their  studies  here  like  auts,"  wrote  Luther. 


CHAPTER  XL 

Thoughts  of  Departure— AUieu3  to  the  Church — Critical  Moment— Delivcv- 
ance— Luther's  Courage— Discontentment  at  Home— Bull— Appeal  to  a 
CouscU. 

LcTHER,  thinking  that  he  might  soon  be  banished  from 
German}',  employed  himself  in  preparing  the  "  Acts  of 
the  Conference  of  Augsburg "  for  publication.  He 
wished  these  acts  to  remain  as  evidence  of  the  struggle 
which  he  had  maintained  with  Rome.  He  saw  the 
Btonn  ready  to  burst,  but  feared  it  not.  Day  after  day 
he  expected  the  anathemas  of  Rome,  and  arranged  and 
set  everything  in  order,  that  he  might  be  ready  when 
they  arrived.  "  Havhig  tucked  up  my  coat,  and  girt 
my  reins,"  said  he,  "  I  am  ready  to  depart  like  Abra- 
ham ;  not  knowing  whither  I  shall  go,  or  rather  know- 
ing well,  since  God  is  everywhere."  He  intended  to 
leave  a  farewell  letter  behind  him.  '•  Have  the  bold- 
ness, then,"  wrote  he  to  Spalatin,  "  to  read  the  letter  of 
a  man  cursed  and  excommunicated." 

His  friends  were  in  great  fear  and  anxiety  on  his 
account,  and  begged  him  to  enter  himself  prisoner  in 
the  hands  of  the  elector,  in  order  that  that  prince 
might  somewhere  keep  him  in  safe  custody. 

His  enemies  could  not  understand  what  it  was  that 
gave  him  so  much  confidence.  One  day  they  were 
talking  of  him  at  the  court  of  the  Bishop  of  Branden- 
burg, and  asking  on  what  prop  he  could  be  leaning. 
"It  must  be  in  Erasmus,"  said  they,  "or  Capito,  or 
some  other  of  the  learned,  that  he  "confides."  "  No  ! 
no!"  replied  the  bi.shop,  "the  pope  would  give  himself 
very  little  trouble  with  such  folks  as  these.    His  trust 


is  in  the  university  of  Wittemberg  and  the  Duke  of 
Saxony."  Thus  both  were  ignorant  of  the  fortress  in 
which  the  reformer  had  taken  refuge. 

Tlioughts  of  departure  flitted  across  Luther's  mind. 
They  arose,  not  from  fear,  but  from  the  foresight  of 
continually  recurring  obstacles  which  the  free  profes- 
."ion  of  the  truth  must  encounter  in  Germany.  "If  I 
remain  here,"  said  he,  "  the  liberty  of  speaking  and 
writing  will,  as  to  many  things,  be  wrested  from  me. 
If  I  depart,  I  will  freely  unbosom  the  thoughts  of  my 
heart,  and  offer  my  life  to  Jesus  Christ." 

France  v.-as  the  country  in  whicli  Luther  hoped  he 
would  be  able,  untrammelled,  to  announce  the  truth. 
The  liberty  which  the  doctors  and  university  of  Paris 
enjoyed  seemed  to  him  worthy  of  envy.  He  was,  be- 
sides, agreed  with  them  on  many  points.  What  would 
have  happened  had  he  been  transported  from  Wittem- 
berg to  France?  Would  the  Reformation  have  taken 
place  there  as  it  did  in  Germany?  Would  the  power 
of  Rome  have  been  dethroned? — and  would  France, 
which  was  destined  to  see  the  hierarchical  principles 
of  Rome,  and  the  destructive  principles  of  an  infidel 
philosophy,  long  warring  in  its  bosom,  have  become 
one  great  focus  of  Gospel  light  ?  It  is  useless  to  in- 
dulge in  vain  conjectures  on  this  subject ;  but,  perhaps, 
Luther  at  Paris  might  have  somewhat  changed  the 
destinies  of  Europe  and  France. 

Luther's  soul  was  powerfully  agitated.  As  he  often 
preached  at  the  town  church  in  place  of  Simon  Heyens 
Pontanus,  pastor  of  Wittemberg,  who  was  almost 
always  sick,  he  thought  it  his  duty,  at  all  events,  to 
take  leave  of  a  people  to  whom  he  had  so  often 
preached  salvation.  "  I  am,"  said  he  one  day  in  the 
pulpit, — "I  am  a  precarious  and  uncertain  preacher. 
How  often  already  have  I  set  out  suddenly  without 
bidding  you  fai-ewell.  ...  In  case  the  same  thing 
should  happen  again,  and  I  not  return,  here  receive  my 
adieus."  After  adding  a  few  words  more,  he  thus 
meekly  and  modestly  ended :  "  I  warn  you,  in  fine,  not 
to  be  alarmed  thougii  the  papal  censures  let  loose  all 
their  fury  on  me.  Impute  it  not  to  the  pope,  and  wish 
no  ill  either  to  him  or  any  other  mortal  whatsoever ; 
but  commit  the  whole  matter  to  God." 

The  moment  seemed  to  have  at  length  arrived.  The 
prince  gave  Luther  to  understand  he  was  desirous  of 
his  removal  to  a  distance  from  Wittemberg  ;  and  the 
wishes  of  the  elector  were  too  sacred  for  him  not  to 
hasten  to  comply  with  them.  He  accordingly  made 
preparations  for  his  departure,  without  well  knowing 
whither  he  should  direct  his  steps.  He  wished,  how- 
ever, to  have  a  last  meeting  with  his  friends,  and  for 
this  purpose  invited  them  to  a  farewell  repast.  Seated 
at  table  with  them,  he  was  still  enjoying  their  delight- 
ful conversation,  their  tender  and  anxious  friendship. 
A  letter  is  brought  to  him.  ...  It  comes  from 
the  court.  He  opens  and  reads,  and  his  heart  sinks  : 
it  is  a  new  order  to  depart.  The  prince  asks  why  he 
is  so  long  of  setting  out.  His  soul  was  filled  with  sad- 
ness. Still,  however,  he  took  courage,  and  raising  his 
head,  and  looking  around  on  his  guests,  said  firmly  and 
joyfully:  "Father  and  mother  forsake  me,  but  the 
Lord  will  take  me  up."  There  was  nothing  for  it  but 
to  depart.  His  friends  were  deeply  moved.  Wliat  is 
to  become  of  him  ?     If  Luther's  protector  rejects  him, 


128 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


who  will  receive  him?  And  the  Gospel,  and  the 
truth,  and  this  admirable  work  .  .  .  ;  all,  doubt- 
less, must  fall  with  their  illustrious  witness.  The  Re- 
formation apparently  is  hanging  by  a  thread ;  and  at 
the  moment  when  Luther  quits  the  walls  of  Wittem- 
berg,  will  not  the  thread  break '?  Luther  and  his 
friends  spoke  little.  Stunned  with  the  blow  which 
was  directed  against  their  brother,  they  melt  into 
tears.  But  some  moments  after  a  second  message 
arrives,  and  Lutlier  opens  the  letter,  not  doubting  he 
is  to  find  a  renewal  of  the  summons  to  depart.     But, 

0  powerful  hand  of  the  Lord !  for  this  time  he  is 
saved.  The  whole  aspect  is  changed.  "  As  the  new 
envoy  of  the  pope  hopes  that  everything  may  be 
arranged  by  means  of  a  conference,  remain  still."  So 
says  the  letter.  How  important  an  hour  this  was  ;  and 
who  can  say  what  might  have  happened  if  Luther, 
who  was  always  in  haste  to  obey  the  will  of  his  prince, 
had  quitted  Wittcmberg  immediately  after  the  first 
message?  Never  were  Luther  and  the  work  of  the 
Reformation  at  a  lower  ebb  than  at  this  moment. 
Their  destinies  seemed  to  be  decided  ;  but  an  instant 
sufficed  to  change  them.  Arrived  at  the  lowest  point 
in  his  career,  the  doctor  of  Wittemberg  rapidly  rcas- 
cended ;  and  thenceforward  his  influence  ceased  not 
to  increase.  In  the  language  of  a  prophet,  The  Eternal 
commands,  and  His  servants  descend  into  the  depths; 
af/ain  theij  mount  up  to  heaven. 

Spalatin  having,  by  order  of  Frederick,  invited 
Luther  to  Lichteuberg  to  have  an  interview  with  him, 
they  had  a  long  conversation  on  the  situation  of 
affairs.  "  If  the  censures  of  Rome  arrive,"  said  Lu- 
ther, "I  certainly  will  not  remain  at  Wittemberg." 
"Beware  of  being  too  precipitate  with  your  journey 
to  France,"  replied  Spalatin,  who  left,  telling  him  to 
wait  till  he  heard  from  him.  "  Only  recommend  my 
soul  to  Christ,"  said  Luther  to  his  friends.  "I  see 
that  my  adversaries  are  strong  in  their  resolution  to 
destroy  me ;  but  at  the  same  time  Christ  strengthens 
me  in  my  resolution  not  to  yield  to  them." 

Luther  at  this  time  published  the  "Acts  of  the 
Conference  at  Augsburg."  Spalatin,  on  the  part  of 
the  elector,  had  written  him  not  to  do  it ;  but  it  was 
too  late.  After  the  publication  had  taken  place,  the 
prince  approved  of  it.  "  Great  God ! "  said  Luther  in 
the  preface,  "what  new — what  astonishing  crime,  to 
seek  light  and  truth !  And  more  especially  to  seek 
them  in  the  Church,  in  other  words,  in  the  kingdom  of 
truth."  In  a  letter  to  Link,  he  says  :  "  I  send  you  my 
Acts.  They  are  more  cutting,  doubtless,  than  the  legate 
expected ;  but  my  pen  is  ready  to  give  birth  to  far 
greater  things.  I  know  not  myself  whence  those 
thoughts  come.  In  my  opinion  the  affair  is  not  even 
conunenced ;  so  far  are  the  grandees  of  Rome  from 
being  entitled  to  hope  it  is  ended.  I  will  send  you 
what  I  have  written,  in  order  that  you  may  see  whether 

1  have  divined  well  in  thinking  that  the  Antichrist  of 
whom  the  Apostle  Paul  speaks  is  now  reigning  in  the 
court  of  Rome.  I  believe  I  am  able  to  demonstrate 
that  it  is  at  this  day  worse  than  the  very  Turks." 

Ominous  rumours  reached  Luther  from  all  quarters. 
One  of  his  friends  wrote  to  him,  that  the  new  envoy 
of  Rome  had  received  orders  to  seize  him,  and  deliver 
him  up  to  the  pope.     Another  told  him,  that  in  travel- 


ling he  had  fallen  in  with  a  courtier,  and  the  conver- 
sation having  turned  on  the  affairs  of  Germany,  the 
courtier  declared  that  he  had  come  under  an  obligation 
to  deliver  Luther  into  the  hands  of  the  sovereign 
pontiff.  "  But,"  wrote  the  reformer,  "  the  more  their 
fury  and  violence  increase,  the  less  I  tremble." 

At  Rome  there  was  great  dissatisfaction  with  Ca- 
jetan.  The  chagrin  which  they  felt  at  the  failure  of 
the  affair,  at  first  turned  upon  him.  The  Roman 
courtiers  thought  themselves  entitled  to  reproach  him 
with  a  want  of  that  prudence  and  finesse  which,  if  they 
are  to  be  believed,  constitute  the  first  quality  of  a 
legate,  and  with  having  failed,  on  so  important  an 
occasion,  to  give  pliancy  to  his  scholastic  theology. 
He  is  wholly  to  blame,  said  the}^  His  lumberiu" 
pedantry  has  spoiled  all.  Of  what  use  was  it  to  irri- 
tate Luther  by  insults  and  menaces,  instead  of  gaining 
him  over  by  the  promise  of  a  good  bishopric,  or  even 
of  a  cardinal's  hat.  These  hirelings  judged  the  re- 
former by  themselves.     However,  it  was  necessary  to 


repair  this  blunder.  On  the  one  hand,  Rrjnie  must 
give  her  decision,  and,  on  the  other,  due  court  must  be 
paid  to  the  elector,  who  might  be  of  great  use  in  the 
election  of  an  emperor, — an  event  which  must  shortly 
take  place. 

As  it  was  impossible  for  Roman  ecclesiastics  to  sus- 
pect what  constituted  the  strength  and  courage  of 
Luther,  they  imagined  that  the  elector  was  much  more 
implicated  in  the  affair  than  he  really  was.  The  pope, 
therefore,  resolved  to  follow  another  line  of  conduct. 
He  caused  his  legate  in  Germany  to  publish  a  bull, 
confirming  the  doctrine  of  indulgences  on  the  very 
points  in  which  they  were  attacked,  but  without 
mentioning  either  the  elector  or  Luther.  As  the  re- 
former had  always  expressed  his  readiness  to  submit  to 
the  decision  of  the  Roman  Church,  the  pope  thought 
that  he  must  now  either  keep  his  word,  or  stand  openly 
convicted  as  a  disturber  of  the  peace  of  the  Church, 
and  a  contemner  of  the  holy  apostolic  see.  In  either 
case  it  seemed  that  the  pope  must  gain.  But  nothing 
is  gained  by  obstinately  opposing  the  truth.  In  vain 
had  the  pope  threatened  to  excommunicate  every  man 
who  should  teach  otherwise  than  he  ordered ;  the  light 
was  not  arrested  by  such  orders.  The  wise  plan  would 
have  been  to  curb  the  pretensions  of  the  venders  of 
indulgences.  This  decree  of  Rome  was  therefore  a  new 
blunder.  By  legalizing  clamant  errors,  it  irritated  all 
the  wise,  and  made  it  impossible  for  Luther  to  return. 
"  It  was  thought,"  savs  a  Roman  Catholic  historian,  a 


APPEAL  TO  A  GENERAL  COUNCIL. 


greiit  euemy  of  the  Reformation,  "  that  this  bull  had 
been  made  solely  for  the  interest  of  the  pope  and  the 
mendicants,  who  began  to  find  that  nobody  would  give 
anything  for  their  indulgences." 

The  Cardinal  De  Vio  published  the  bull  at  Lintz,  in 
Austria,  on  the  i;3th  December,  1518  ;  but  Luther  had 
already  placed  liimself  beyond  its  reach.  On  the  28th 
November,  in  the  chapel  of  Corpus  Christi  at  Wittem- 
bcrg,  lie  had  appealed  from  the  pope  to  a  general 
council  of  the  Ciiurch.  He  foresaw  the  storm  which 
was  gathering  around  him,  and  he  knew  that  God 
alone  could  avert  it.  Still  he  did  as  duty  called  him. 
He  must,  no  doubt,  quit  Wittembcrg  (were  it  only  for 
the  sake  of  the  elector)  as  soon  as  the  Roman  anathema 
should  arrive ;  but  he  was  unwilling  to  quit  Saxony 
and  Germany  without  a  strong  protestation.  This  he 
accordingly  drew  up ;  and,  in  order  that  it  might  be 
ready  for  circulation  the  moment  the  furies  of  Rome, 
as  he  expresses  it,  should  reach  him,  he  caused  it  to  be 
printed,  under  the  express  condition  that  the  bookseller 
should  deposit  all  the  copies  in  his  custody.  But  the 
bookseller,  in  his  eagerness  for  gain,  sold  almost  the 


whole,  while  Luther  was  (piietly  waiting  to  receive 
them.  He  felt  annoyed,  but  the  thing  was  done.  This 
bold  protestation  spread  everywhere.  In  it  Luther 
declared  anew  that  he  had  no  intention  to  say  anything 
against  the  holy  Church,  or  the  authority  of  the  Apos- 
tolic See,  or  the  pope  well  advised.  "  But,"  continues 
he,  "  considering  that  the  pope,  who  is  the  vicar  of 
God  upon  earth,  may,  like  any  other  vicar,  err,  sin,  or 
lie,  and  that  the  appeal  to  a  general  council  is  the  only 
safeguard  against  tmjust  proceedings  which  it  is  im- 
possible to  resist,  I  feel  myself  obliged  to  have  recourse 
to  it." 

Here,  then,  we  see  the  Reformation  launched  on  a 
new  course.  It  is  no  longer  made  to  depend  on  the 
pope  aud  his  decisions,  but  on  an  universal  council. 
Luther  addresses  the  whole  Church,  aud  the  voice 
which  proceeds  from  the  chapel  of  Corpus  Christi 
must  reach  the  whole  members  of  Christ's  flock. 
There  is  no  want  of  courage  in  the  reformer,  and  here 
he  gives  a  new  proof  of  it.  Will  God  fail  him  ?  The 
aniiwer  will  be  found  in  the  different  phases  of  the 
Reformation  which  are  still  to  be  exhibited  to  our  view. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


BOOK    V. 


THE  DISCUSSION  OF  LEIPSIC— 1519. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Luther's  Dangers— God  saves  Luther— The  Pope  sends  .1  Chambeilaiu— The 
Legate's  Journey — Briefs  of  Rome — Circumstances  favourable  to  the 
Reformation — Miltitz  with  Spalatin — Tetzel's  Terror— Caresses  of  5Iil- 
titz— A  Recantation  Demanded— Luther  Refuses,  but  Offers  to  be 
Silent  —  Agreement  between  Lutlier  and  the  Nuncio— The  Legate's 
Embrace— Tetzel  overwhelmed  by  the  Legate— Luther  to  the  Pope- 
Nature  of  the  Reformation— Luther  against  Separation— De  Vio  and 
Miltitz  at  Treves  —  Luther's  cause  extends  in  different  Countries— 
Lutlier's  Writings  the  Commencement  of  the  Reformation. 

Dangers  had  gathered  round  Luther  and  the  Reforma- 
tion. The  doctor  of  Wittemberg's  appeal  to  a  general 
council  was  a  new  attack  on  papal  authority.  By  a 
bull  of  Pius  II.,  the  greater  excommunication  had  been 
denounced  even  against  emperors  who  should  dare  to 
incur  the  guilt  of  such  a  revolt.  Frederick  of  Saxony, 
as  yet  imperfectly  confirmed  in  evangelical  doctrine, 
was  preptired  to  send  Luther  away  from  his  states; 
and  hence  a  new  message  from  Leo  might  have  thrown 
the  reformer  among  strangers,  who  would  be  afraid 
to  compromise  themselves  by  receiving  a  monk  whom 
Rome  had  anathematized.  And  even  3hould  the  sword 
of  some  noble  be  drawn  in  his  defence,  mere  knights, 
unable  to  cope  with  the  powerful  princes  of  Germany, 
must  soon  have  succumbed  in  the  perilous  enterprise. 

But  at  the  moment  when  all  the  courtiers  of  Leo  X. 
were  urging  him  to  rigorous  measures,  and  when  one 
blow  more  might  have  placed  his  adversary  in  his 
hands,  the  pope  suddenly  changed  his  course  to  one  of 
conciliation  and  apparent  mildness.  It  may  be  said, 
no  doubt,  that  he  was  under  a  delusion  as  to  the 
cicctoi-'s  feelings,  and  deemed  them  more  decided  in 
Luther's  favour  than  they  really  were.  It  may  also  be 
.admitted  that  the  public  voice,  and  the  spirit  of  the 
age — powers  which,  at  this  time,  were  altogether  new 
— seemed  to  throw  an  impregnable  barrier  around  the 
reformer.  It  may  even  be  supposed,  with  one  of  Leo's 
biographers,'  that  he  followed  the  promptings  of  his 
mind  and  heart  which  inclined  to  gentleness  and  mode- 
ration. Still,  this  new  mode  of  action,  on  the  part  of 
Rome,  at  such  a  moment,  is  so  extraordinary  that  it  is 
impossible  not  to  recognise  in  it  a  higher  and  mightier 
hand. 

There  was  then  at  the  court  of  Rome  a  Saxon  noble 
who  was  chamberlain  to  the  pope  and  canon  of  Mentz, 
Treves,  and  Meissen.  He  had  turned  his  talents  to 
advantage.  As  he  boasted  of  being,  in  some  degree, 
allied  to  the  Saxon  princes,  the  Roman  courtiers  some- 
times designated  him  by  the  title  of  Duke  of  Saxony. 
In  Italy  lie  made  an  absurd  display  of  his  German 
nobility,  while  in  Germany  he  aped  the  manners  and 
polish  of  the  Italians.  Ho  was  given  to  wine — a  vice 
which  his  residence  at  the  court  of  Rome  had  increased. 

1  Roscoe's  "  Life  of  Leo  X." 


Still  the  Roman  courtiers  hoped  great  things  from  him. 
His  German  extraction — his  insinuating  address — and 
his  ability  in  negotiation,  all  led  them  to  expect  that 
Charles  de  Miltitz  (this  was  his  name)  would,  by  liis 
prudence,  succeed  in  arresting  the  mighty  revolution 
which  was  threatening  to  shake  the  world. 

It  was  of  importance  to  conceal  the  true  object  of 
the  chamberlain's  mission ;  and  in  tliis  there  was  no 
difficulty.  Four  years  before,  the  pious  elector  had 
applied  to  the  pope  for  the  golden  rose.  This  rose, 
the  fairest  of  flowers,  was  emblematic  of  the  body  of 
Jesus  Christ ;  and  being  annually  consecrated  by  the 
sovereign  pontiff,  was  presented  to  one  of  the  first 
princes  in  Europe.  On  this  occasion  it  was  resolved 
to  send  it  to  the  elector.  Miltitz  set  out  with  a 
commission  to  examine  into  the  state  of  affairs,  and 
to  gain  over  the  elector's  councillors,  Spalatin  and 
PfefRnger,  for  whom  he  had  special  letters.  Rome 
hoped  that,  by  securing  the  favour  of  the  persons 
abont  the  prince,  she  would  soon  become  mistress  of 
her  formidable  adversary. 

The  new  legate,  who  arrived  in  Germany  in  Decem- 
ber, 1518,  was  careful,  as  he  came  along,  to  ascertain 
the  state  of  public  opinion.  To  his  great  astonishment 
he  observed,  at  every  place  where  he  stopped,  that  the 
majority  of  the  inhabitants  were  friendly  to  the  Refor- 
mation, and  spoke  of  Luther  with  enthusiasm.  For 
one  person  favourable  to  the  pope,  there  were  three 
favourable  to  the  reformer.  Luther  has  preserved  an 
anecdote  of  the  journey :  "  Wliat  think  you  of  the  see 
(seat)  of  Rome/"  frequently  asked  the  legate  at  the 
mistresses  of  the  inns  and  their  maidservants.  One 
day,  one  of  these  poor  women,  with  great  simplicity, 
replied :  "  How  can  we  know  what  kind  of  seats  you 
have  at  Rome,  and  whether  they  are  of  wood  or 
stone?" 

The  mere  rumour  of  the  new  legate's  arrival  filled 
the  elector's  court,  the  imiversity,  the  town  of  Wittem- 
berg,  and  all  Saxony,  with  suspicion  and  distrust. 
"  Thank  God,"  wrote  Melancthon,  in  alarm,  "  Martin 
still  breathes."  It  was  confidently  stated  that  the 
Roman  chamberlain  had  received  orders  to  possess 
himself  of  Luther's  person,  by  force  or  fraud  ;  and  the 
doctor  was  advised,  on  all  hands,  to  be  on  his  guard 
against  the  stratagems  of  Miltitz.  "  His  object  in  com- 
ing," said  they,  "  is  to  seize  you  and  give  you  up  to 
the  pope.  Persons  worthy  of  credit  have  seen  the 
briefs  of  which  he  is  the  bearer."  "I  await  the  will 
of  God,"  replied  Luther. 

In  fact,  Miltitz  brought  letters  addressed  to  the 
elector,  and  his  councillors,  to  the  bishops,  and  to  the 
burgomaster  of  Wittemberg.  He  was  also  provided 
with  seventy  apostolic  briefs.  Should  the  flattery  and 
the  favours  of  Rome  attain  their  object,  and  Frederick 


FAVOURABLE  CIRCUMSTANCES. 


131 


deliver  Luther  into  lier  liivuds,  those  seventy  briefs 
were  to  serve  as  a  kind  of  jiassports.  lie  was  to  pro- 
duce and  post  up  one  of  them  in  each  of  the  towns 
tiirough  whicli  he  had  to  pass,  and  hope  he  might  thus 
succeed  in  dragging  his  prisoner,  without  opposition, 
all  tlie  way  to  Rome. 

The  pope  seemed  to  have  taken  every  precaution. 
Tiie  electoral  court  knew  not  well  what  course  to  take. 
Violence  would  have  been  resisted ;  but  the  difficulty 
was  to  oppose  the  chief  of  Christianity,  when  speaking 
with  so  nuich  mildness,  and  apparently  with  so  much 
reason.  Would  it  not  be  the  best  plan,  it  was  said,  to 
place  Luther  somewhere  in  concealment  until  the  storm 
was  over  ?  .  .  .  An  unexpected  event  relieved 
Luther,  the  elector,  and  the  Reformation,  from  this 
ditlicult  situation.  The  aspect  of  affairs  suddenly 
changed. 

Ou  the  12th  of  January,  1519,  Maximilian,  the 
emperor  of  Crcrmany,  died ;  and  Frederick  of  Saxony, 
agreeably  to  the  Germanic  constitution,  became  regent 
of  the  empire.  From  this  time  the  elector  feared  not 
the  schemes  of  nuncios,  while  new  interests  began  to 
engross  the  court  of  Rome — interests  which,  obliging 
her  to  be  chary  of  giving  offence  to  Frederick,  arrested 
the  blow  which  Miltitz  and  De  Vio  were  undoubtedly 
meditating. 

The  pope  earnestly  desired  to  prevent  Charles  of 
Austria,  already  king  of  Naples,  from  ascending  the 
imperial  throne.  A  neighbouring  king  appeared  to 
him  more  formidable  than  a  German  monk  ;  and  in 
his  anxiety  to  secure  the  elector,  who  might  be  of 
essential  service  to  him  in  the  matter,  he  resolved  to 
give  some  respite  to  the  monk,  that  he  might  be  the 
better  able  to  oppose  the  king.  Both,  however,  ad- 
vanced in  spite  of  him. 

In  addition  to  the  change  thus  produced  in  Leo, 
there  was  another  circumstance  which  tended  to  avert 
the  storm  impending  over  the  Reformation.  The 
death  of  the  emperor  was  immediately  followed  by 
political  commotions.  In  the  south  of  the  empire  the 
Swabian  confederation  sought  to  punish  Ulric  of  AVur- 
temberg  for  his  infidelity  to  it ;  while  in  the  south,  the 
Bishop  of  Ilildesheim  proceeded,  sword  in  hand,  to 
invade  the  bishopric  of  Miuden,  and  the  territories  of 
the  Duke  of  Brunswick.  How  could  men  in  power, 
amid  such  disturbances,  attach  any  importance  to  a 
dispute  relating  to  the  remission  of  sins?  But,  above 
all,  the  reputation  for  wisdom  enjoyed  by  the  elector, 
now  regent  of  the  empire,  and  the  protection  which 
he  gave  to  the  new  teachers,  were  made  subservient 
by  Providence  to  the  progress  of  the  Reformation. 
"The  tempest,"  says  Luther,  "intermitted  its  fury, 
aud  papal  excommunication  began  to  fall  into  con- 
tempt. The  Gospel,  under  the  shade  of  the  elector's 
regency,  spread  far  and  wide ;  and  in  this  way  great 
damage  was  sustained  by  the  papacy." 

Moreover,  the  severest  prohibitions  were  naturally 
mitigated  during  an  interregnum.  In  everything  there 
was  more  freedom  and  greater  facility  of  action. 
Liberty,  which  began  to  shed  its  rays  on  the  infant 
Reformation,  rapidly  developed  the  still  tender  plant ; 
and  any  one  might  have  been  able  to  predict  how 
favourable  political  freedom  would  prove  to  the  pro- 
gi-css  of  evaugelical  Christianity. 


Miltitz,  having  arrived  in  Saxony  before  the  death 
of  Maximilian,  lost  no  time  in  visiting  his  old  friend 
Spalatin  ;  but  no  sooner  did  he  begin  his  complaint 
against  Luther,  than  the  chaplain  made  an  attack  upon 
Tetzel,  acquainting  the  nuncio  with  the  lies  and  blas- 
phemies of  the  vender  of  indulgences,  and  assuring 
him  that  all  Germany  blamed  the  Dominican  for  the 
division  which  was  rending  the  Church. 

Miltitz  was  taken  by  surprise.  Instead  of  accuser, 
he  had  become  the  accused.  Turning  all  his  wrath 
upon  Tetzel,  he  summoned  him  to  appear  at  Altenburg, 
and  give  an  account  of  his  conduct. 

The  Dominican — as  great  a  coward  as  a  bully,  and 
afraid  of  the  people  whom  he  had  provoked  by  his 
impostures — had  ceased  his  peregrinations  over  town 
and  country,  and  was  living  in  retirement  in  the  college 
of  St.  Paul.  He  grew  pale  on  receiving  the  letter 
of  Miltitz.  Even  Rome  is  abandoning,  threatening, 
and  condemning  him, — is  insisting  on  dragging  him 
from  the  only  asylum  in  which  lie  feels  himself  iu 
safety,  and  exposing  him  to  the  fury  of  his  enemies. 
.  .  .  Tetzel  refused  to  obey  the  nuncio's  summons. 
"Assuredly,"  wrote  he  to  Miltitz,  on  the  31st  of  De- 
cember, 1518,  "I  would  not  regard  the  fatigues  of  the 
journey  if  I  could  leave  Leipsio  without  endangering 
my  life;  but  the  Augustine,  Martin  Luther,  has  so 
stirred  up  men  in  power,  and  incensed  them  against 
me,  that  I  am  not  in  safety  anywhere.  A  great  num- 
ber of  Luther's  partizans  have  conspired  my  death,  and 
therefore  I  cannot  possibly  come  to  you."  There  was 
a  striking  contrast  between  the  two  men, — the  one  of 
whom  was  then  living  in  the  college  of  St.  Paul  at 
Leipsic,  and  the  other  in  the  cloister  of  the  Augustines 
at  Wittemberg.  In  presence  of  danger  the  servant  of 
God  displayed  intrepid  courage — the  servant  of  men 
despicable  cowardice. 

Miltitz  had  orders,  in  the  first  instance,  to  employ 
the  arms  of  persuasion ;  and  it  was  only  in  the  event  of 
failure  that  he  was  to  produce  his  seventy  briefs,  and 
at  the  same  time  endeavour,  by  all  the  favours  of 
Rome,  to  induce  the  elector  to  put  down  Luther.  He 
accordingly  expressed  a  desire  to  have  an  interview 
with  the  reformer.  Their  common  friend,  Spalatin, 
offered  his  house  for  this  purpose,  and  Luther  left 
Wittemberg  on  the  2d  or  3d  of  January  to  repair  to 
Altenburg. 

At  this  interview  Miltitz  exhausted  all  the  address 
of  a  diplomatist  and  a  Roman  courtier.  The  moment 
Luther  arrived  the  nuncio  approached  him  with  great 
demonstrations  of  friendship.  "  Oh ! "  thought  Luther, 
"  how  completely  his  violence  is  turned  into  gentleness  ! 
This  new  Saul  came  into  Germany  provided  with  more 
than  seventy  apostolic  briefs,  to  carry  me  alive  and  in 
chains  to  murderous  Rome ;  l3ut  the  Lord  has  cast  him 
down  on  the  way." 

"  Dear  Martin,"  said  the  pope's  chamberlain  to  him 
in  a  coaxing  tone,  "  I  thought  you  were  an  old  theolo- 
gian, sitting  quietly  behind  your  stove,  and  stuffed  with 
theological  crotchets  ;  but  I  see  that  you  are  still  young, 
and  in.  the  full  vigour  of  life.  Do  you  know,"  con- 
tinued he  iu  a  more  serious  tone,  "  that  you  have 
stirred  up  the  whole  world  against  the  pope,  and  at- 
tached it  to  yourself.?"  Miltitz  was  aware  that  to 
flatter  men's  pride  is  the  most  effectual  mode  of  seduc- 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


ing  tliem  ;  but  he  knew  not  the  man  with  whom  he  had 
to  do.  "  Had  I  an  army  of  twenty-five  thousand  men," 
added  he,  "  assuredly  I  would  not  undertake  to  seize 
you  and  carry  you  off  to  Rome."  Rome,  notwithstand- 
ing of  her  power,  felt  herself  feeble  in  presence  of  a 
poor  monk,  and  the  monk  felt  strong  in  presence  of 
Rome.  "  God,"  said  Luther,  "  arrests  the  billows  of 
the  ocean  at  the  shore,  and  arrests  them  ...  by 
the  sand." 

The  nuncio,  thinking  he  had  thus  prepared  the  mind 
of  his  opponent,  continued  as  follows: — "Do  you 
yourself  bind  up  the  wound  which  you  have  inflicted 
on  the  Church,  and  which  you  alone  can  cure."  "  Be- 
ware," added  he,  letting  a  few  tears  fall, — "beware  of 


serious  combat.  My  armour  is  quite  ready.  1  will 
do  still  more,"  added  he,  after  a  momentary  pause ;  "  I 
will  write  his  holiness,  acknowledging  that  I  have  been 
somewhat  too  violent,  and  declaring  that  it  was  as  a 
faithful  child  of  the  Church  I  combated  harangues 
which  subjected  her  to  mockery  and  insult  from  the 
people.  I  even  consent  to  publish  a  document  in  which 
I  will  request  all  who  read  my  books  not  to  see  any- 
thing in  them  adverse  to  the  Roman  Church,  but  to 
remain  subject  to  her.  Yes ;  I  am  disposed  to  do 
everything  and  bear  everything ;  but  as  to  retractation, 
never  expect  it  from  me." 

Luther's  decided  tone  convinced  Miltitz   that   the 
wisest  course  was  to  appear  sntisfied  wilh  the  promise 


FREDERICK    OF    SAXONY. 

raising  a  tempest,  which  would  bring  ruin  on  Christen- 
dom." He  tiien  began  gradually  to  insinuate  that  a 
recantation  was  the  only  remedy  for  the  evil ;  but  he, 
at  the  same  time,  softened  the  offensiveness  of  the 
term,  by  giving  Luther  to  understand  that  he  had  the 
highest  esteem  for  him,  and  by  expressing  his  indigna- 
tion at  Tetzel.  The  net  was  laid  by  a  skilful  hand, 
and  how  was  it  possible  to  avoid  being  taken  in  it  ? 
"  Had  the  Archbishop  of  Mentz  spoken  thus  to  me  at 
the  outset,"  said  the  reformer  afterwards,  "  this  affair 
would  not  have  made  so  much  noise." 

Luther  then  replied.  With  calmness,  but  also  with 
dignity  and  force,  he  stated  the  just  grievances  of  the 
Church;  expressed  all  the  indignation  he  felt  at  the 
Archbishop  of  Mentz;  and  nobly  complained  of  the 
imworthy  treatment  he  had  received  from  Rome,  not- 
withstanding of  the  purity  of  his  intentions.  Miltitz, 
though  he  had  not  expected  this  firm  language,  was 
able,  however,  to  conceal  his  wrath. 

Luther  resumed :  "  I  offer  to  be  silent  in  futlire  as 
to  these  matters,  and  let  the  affair  die  out  of  itself, 
provided  my  opponents  also  are  silent ;  but  if  they  con- 
tinue to  attack  me,  a  petty  quai-rel  will  soon  beget  a 


which  the  leformer  had  just  made,  and  he  meiely 
proposed  that  an  archbishop  should  be  appointed  arbi- 
ter, to  decide  certain  points  which  might  come  under 
discussion.  "Be  it  so,"  said  Luther;  "but  I  am  much 
afraid  that  the  pope  will  not  consent  to  have  a  judge. 
In  that  case  no  more  will  I  accept  the  judgment  of  the 
pope — and  then  the  strife  will  begin  anew.  The  pope 
will  give  out  the  text,  and  I  will  make  the  com- 
mentary." 

Thus  terminated  the  first  interview  between  Luther 
and  Miltitz.  They  had  a  second,  in  which  the  truce, 
or  rather  peace,  was  signed.  Luther  immediately  in- 
formed the  elector  of  what  had  passed.  "  Most  serene 
prince  and  very  gracious  lord,"  wrote  he,  "I  hasten 
very  humbly  to  inform  your  electoral  highness,  that 
Charles  de  Miltitz  and  I  have  at  length  agreed,  and 


MILTITZ  AND  LUTHER. 


have  terminated  the  affair  by  means  of  the  two  follow- 
ing articles : — 

"  1st,  Both  parties  are  forbidden  to  preach  or  write, 
or  to  do  anything  further  in  reference  to  the  dispute 
which  luis  arisen. 

'•  iiidly,  MiUitz  will  immediately  ac(iuaiut  the  holy 
father  witli  the  state  of  matters.  His  holiness  will 
order  an  enlightened  bisho])  to  inquire  into  the  affair, 
and  specify  the  erroneous  articles  which  I  am  required 
to  retract.  If  I  am  found  to  be  in  error,  I  will  retract 
williniily,  and  never  more  do  anything  that  may  be 
l>rojudicial  to  the  honour  or  tlic  authority  of  the  holy 
Konian  Church." 

Tlio  agreement  being  tlius  made,  IVfdtitz  appeared 
quite  delighted.  "  For  a  hundred  years,"  exclaimed 
he,  "  no  affair  has  given  the  cai'dinals  and  Roman 
courtiers  more  anxiety  than  this.  They  would  have 
given  ten  thousand  ducats  sooner  than  consent  to  its 
longer  continuance." 

The  chamberlain  of  the  pope  made  a  great  shew  of 
feeling  before  the  monk  of  AVittemberg.  Sometimes 
lie  exi)rcssed  joy,  at  other  times  shed  tears.  This 
display  of  sensibility  made  little  impression  on  the 
reformer;  but  he  refrained  from  shewing  what  he 
thought  of  it.  "  I  looked  as  if  I  did  not  imderstaud 
what  was  meant  by  these  crocodile  tears,"  said  he. 
The  crocodile  is  said  to  weep  when  it  cannot  seize 
its  prey. 

Luther  having  accepted  an  invitation  to  supper  from 
i\liltitz,  tlir  li.i.M  l;ii,l  aside  the  stiffness  attributed  to 
his  cillicc.  whilr  l.iiiliri-  gave  full  scope  to  his  uatural 
gaiety.  It  was  a  j"you3  repast;  and  when  the  parting 
horn-  lu-rived,  the  legate  took  the  heretical 
doctor  in  his  arms  and  kissed  him.  "A 
Judas  kiss,"  thought  Luther;  "I  pretended," 
wrote  he  to  Staupitz,  "  not  to  comprehend 
all  these  Italian  manners." 

Was  this,  then,  to  be,  iu  truth,  the  kiss  of 
reconciliation  between  Rome  and  the  dawn- 
ing Reformation?  Miltitz  hoped  so,  and 
rejoiced  at  it,  for  he  had  a  nearer  view  than 
the  courtiers  of  Rome  of  the  fearful  results 
which  the  Reformation  might  produce  in 
regard  to  the  papacy.  If  Luther  and  his  op- 
ponents are  silent,  said  he  to  himself,  the 
dispute  will  be  ended,  and  Rome,  by  availing 
herself  of  favourable  circumstances,  will  re- 
gain all  her  ancient  influence.  It  thus  seemed 
that  the  debate  was  drawing  to  a  close : 
Rome  had  stretched  out  her  arms,  and  Luther 
had  apparently  thrown  himself  into  them : 
but  the  Reformation  was  the  work  not  of 
man,  but  of  God.  The  error  of  Rome  con- 
sisted in  seeing  the  ([uarrel  of  a  monk, 
where  she  ought  to  have  seen  an  awaken- 
ing of  the  Church.  The  revival  of  Chris- 
tendom was  not  to  be  arrested  by  the  kisses  of  a 
pope's  chamberlain. 

Miltitz,  in  fulfilment  of  the  agreement  which  he  had 
just  concluded,  proceeded  from  Altenburg  to  Leipsic, 
where  Tetzel  was  residing.  There  was  no  occasion  to 
shut  Tetzel's  mouth,  for,  sooner  than  speak,  he  would, 
if  it  had  been  possible,  have  hidden  himself  iu  the 
bowels  of  the  earth;  but  the  nuncio  was  determined 


to  discharge  his  wrath  upon  him.  Immediately  on  his 
arrival  at  Leipsic,  Miltitz  summoned  the  unhappy 
Tetzel  before  him,  loaded  him  with  reproaches,  accused 
him  of  being  the  author  of  the  whole  mischief,  and 
tlireatened  him  with  the  pope's  displeasure.  Nor  was 
this  all :  the  agent  of  the  house  of  Fugger,  who  Wiis 
then  at  Leipsic,  was  confronted  with  him.  Miltitz 
laid  before  tlie  Dominican  the  accounts  of  that  house, 
together  with  papers  which  he  himself  had  signed,  and 
proved  that  he  had  squandered  or  stolen  considerable 
sums.  The  poor  wretch,  who  had  stickled  at  nothing 
in  his  day  of  glory,  was  overwhelmed  by  the  justice  of 
these  accusations  :  despair  seized  him,  his  health  gave 
way,  and  he  knew  not  where  to  hide  his  shame.  Lu- 
ther heard  of  the  miserable  condition  of  his  old  enemy, 
and  was  the  only  person  who  felt  for  him.  In  a  letter 
to  Spalatin,  he  says:  "I  pity  Tetzel."  Nor  did  he 
confine  himself  to  such  expressions.  He  had  hated  not 
the  man,  but  his  misconduct;  and  at  the  moment  when 
Rome  was  pouring  out  her  wrath  upon  him,  wrote  him 
in  the  most  consolatory  terms.  But  all  was  to  no 
purpose.  Tetzel,  stung  by  remorse,  alarmed  at  the 
reproaches  of  his  best  friends,  and  dreading  the  anger 
of  the  pope,  not  long  after  died  miserably,  and,  as  was 
supposed,  of  a  broken  heart. 

Luther,  in  fulfilment  of  his  promises  to  Miltitz,  on 
the  3d  of  March  wrote  the  following  letter  to  the  pope  : 

"Blessed  Father!  will  your  blessedness  deign  to 
turn  your  paternal  ears,  which  are  like  those  of  Christ 
himself,  towards  your  poor  sheep,  and  kindly  listen  to 
its  bleat?  "What  shall  I  do,  most  holy  Father?  I  am 
unable  to  bear  the  fierceness  of  your  anger,  and  know 


not  how  to  escape  from  it.  I  am  asked  to  retract,  and 
would  hasten  to  do  so  could  it  lead  to  the  end  which 
is  proposed  by  it.  But  owing  to  the  persecutions 
of  my  enemies,  my  writings  have  been  circulated  far 
and  wide,  and  are  too  deeply  engraven  on  men's  hearts 

i  to  be  effaced.  A  recantation  would  only  add  to  the 
dishonour  of  the  Church  of  Rome,  and  raise  an  uni- 

I  versal   cry   of   accusation   against    her.      Most    holy 


1.34 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


Father !  I  declare  before  God  and  all  His  creatures, 
that  I  have  never  wished,  and  do  not  now  wish,  either 
by  force  or  guile,  to  attack  the  authority  of  the  Roman 
Church  or  of  your  holiness.  I  acknowledge  that  there 
is  nothing  in  heaven  or  ou  the  earth  which  ought  to  be 
put  above  this  Church,  unless  it  be  Jesus  Christ,  the 
Lord  of  all." 

These  words  might  seem  strange,  and  even  reprehen- 
sible, in  the  mouth  of  Luther,  did  we  not  reflect  that 
the  light  did  not  break  in  upon  him  all  at  once,  but  by 
slow  and  progressive  steps.  They  shew,  and  this  is 
very  important,  that  the  Eeformation  was  not  simply 
an  opposition  to  the  papacy.  Its  accomplishment  was 
not  effected  by  warring  against  this  or  that  form,  or 
by  means  of  this  or  that  negative  tendency.  Opposi- 
tion to  the  pope  was  only  one  of  its  secondary  features. 
Its  creating  principle  was  a  new  life,  a  positive  doc- 
trine :  "  Jesus  Christ,  the  Lord  of  all,  and  paramount 
to  all — to  Rome  herself,"  as  Luther  says  in  the  con- 
clusion of  his  letter.  To  this  principle  the  revolution 
of  the  sixteenth  century  is  truly  to  be  ascribed. 

It  is  probable  that  at  an  earlier  period  a  letter  from 
the  monk  of  Wittemberg,  positively  refusing  to  retract, 
would  not  have  been  allowed  by  the  pope  to  pass  with- 
out animadversion.  But  Maximilian  was  dead,  the 
topic  of  engrossing  interest  was  the  election  of  his 
successor ;  and  amid  the  political  intrigues  which  then 
agitated  the  pontifical  city,  Luther's  letter  was  over- 
looked. 

The  reformer  was  employing  his  time  to  better  pur- 
pose than  his  powerful  antagonist.  While  Leo  X., 
engrossed  by  his  interests  as  a  temporal  prince,  was 
straining  every  nerve  to  prevent  a  dreaded  neighbour 
from  reaching  the  imperial  throne,  Luther  v.'as  daily 
growing  in  knowledge  and  in  faith.  He  studied  the 
decretals  of  the  popes,  and  made  discoveries  which 
greatly  modified  his  views.  Writing  Spalatiu,  he  says  : 
"I  am  reading  the  decretals  of  the  popes,  and,  let  me 
say  it  in  your  ear,  I  know  not  whether  the  pope  is 
Antichrist  himself,  or  only  his  apostle, — to  such  a 
degree,  in  these  decretals,  is  Christ  outraged  and 
crucified." 

Still  he  continued  to  respect  the  ancient  Church  of 
Rome,  and  had  no  thought  of  separating  from  her. 
"  Let  the  Roman  Church,"  said  he,  in  the  explana- 
tion which  he  had  promised  Miltitz  to  publish,  "  be 
honoured  of  God  above  all  others.  On  this  point 
there  cannot  be  a  doubt.  St.  Peter,  St.  Paul,  forty- 
six  popes,  and  several  hundred  thousand  martyrs,  have 
shed  their  blood  in  her  bosom,  and  there  vanquished 
hell  and  the  world,  so  that  the  eye  of  God  specially 
rests  upon  her.  Although  everything  about  her  is 
now  in  a  very  sad  condition,  that  is  no  ground  for 
separating  from  her.  On  the  contrary,  the  worse 
things  are,  the  more  firmly  we  should  cling  to  her. 
Our  separation  is  not  the  means  by  which  she  can  be 
improved.  We  must  not  abandon  God  because  there 
is  a  devil ;  nor  the  children  of  God,  who  are  still  at 
Rome,  because  the  majority  are  wicked.  No  sin,  no 
wickedness,  can  justify  us  in  destroying  charity  or 
violating  unity;  for  charity  can  do  all  things,  and 
nothing  is  difficult  to  unity." 

It  was  not  Luther  that  separated  from  Rome,  but 
Rome  that  separated  from  Luther ;  and  by  so  doing 


rejected  the  ancient  catholic  faith,  of  which  he  was 
then  the  representative.  Nor  was  it  Luther  that 
deprived  Rome  of  her  power,  and  compelled  her  bishop 
to  descend  from  an  usurped  throne.  The  doctrines 
which  he  announced — the  doctrine  of  the  apostles 
again  divinely  proclaimed  throughout  the  Church  with 
great  force  and  admirable  purity — alone  could  prevail 
against  a  power  by  which  the  Church  had  for  ages 
been  enslaved. 

These  declarations,  which  Luther  published  at  the 
end  of  February,  did  not  fully  satisfy  Miltitz  and  De 
Vio.  These  two  vultures,  after  both  missing  their 
prey,  had  retired  within  the  ancient  walls  of  Treves. 
There,  seconded  by  the  prince-archbishop,  they  hoped 
jointly  to  accomplish  the  object  in  which  they  had 
failed  individually.  The  two  nuncios  were  aware  that 
nothing  more  was  to  be  expected  from  Frederick,  now 
invested  with  supreme  power  in  the  empire.  They  saw 
that  Luther  persisted  in  his  refusal  of  retractation. 
The  only  plan,  therefore,  was  to  withdraw  the  heretical 
monk  from  the  protection  of  the  elector,  and  entice  him 
into  their  own  neighbourhood.  If  the  reformer  were 
once  in  Treves,  in  a  state  subject  to  a  prince  of  the 
Church,  he  would  be  dexterous  indeed  if  he  got  away 
without  giving  full  satisfaction  to  the  sovereign  pontiff. 
The  scheme  was  immediately  proceeded  with.  "  Lu- 
ther," said  Miltitz  to  the  Elector-archbishop  of  Treves, 
"  has  accepted  your  grace  as  arbiter ;  call  him,  there- 
fore, before  you."  The  Elector  of  Treves  accordingly 
(3d  May)  wrote  to  the  Elector  of  Saxony,  and  requested 
him  to  send  Luther.  De  Vio,  and  afterwards  Miltitz 
himself,  also  wrote,  announcing  that  the  rose  of  gold 
had  arrived  at  Augsburg,  at  the  house  of  Fugger. 
Now,  thought  they,  is  the  moment  to  strike  the  decisive 
blow. 

But  things  were  changed,  and  neither  Frederick  nor 
Luther  felt  alarmed.  The  elector,  understanding  his 
new  position,  had  no  longer  any  fear  of  the  pope,  and 
far  less  of  his  servants.  The  reformer,  seeing  Miltitz 
and  De  Vio  in  concert,  had  some  idea  of  the  fate  which 
awaited  him  if  he  complied  with  their  invitation. 
"  Everywhere,"  says  he,  "on  all  hands,  and  in  all  ways, 
they  seek  my  life."  Besides,  he  had  requested  the  pope 
to  decide ;  but  the  pope,  engrossed  with  crowns  and 
intrigues,  had  given  no  answer.  Luther  thus  wrote  to 
Miltitz  :  "  How  could  I  undertake  the  journey,  without 
an  order  from  Rome,  amid  the  troubles  which  shake 
the  empire  ?  How  could  I  face  so  many  dangers,  and 
subject  myself  to  so  much  expense,  I  who  am  the 
poorest  of  men '? " 

The  Elector  of  Treves,  a  man  of  wisdom  and  moder- 
ation, and  a  friend  of  Frederick,  was  willing  to  meet 
his  views.  He  had  no  desire,  moreover,  to  involve 
himself  in  the  affair  without  being  positively  called 
upon.  He  therefore  agreed  with  the  Elector  of  Saxony 
to  defer  the  investigation  to  the  nest  diet.  Two  years 
elapsed  before  this  diet  assembled  at  AVorms. 

While  the  hand  of  Providence  successfully  warded 
off  all  the  dangers  which  threatened  him,  Luther  was 
boldly  advancing  to  a  result  of  which  he  was  not  him- 
self aware.  His  reputation  was  extending,  the  cause 
of  truth  was  gaining  strength,  and  the  number  of  the 
students  of  Wittemberg,  among  whom  were  the  most 
distinguished  young  men  in  Germany,  rapidly  increased. 


PUBLICATION  OF  LUTHER'S  WORKS. 


"  Our  town,"  wrote  Luther,  "  cau  scarcely  coiitaiu  all 
who  come  to  it ; "  and  on  another  occasion :  "  The  num- 
ber of  students  increases  out  of  measure,  like  a  stream 
overflowing  its  banks." 

But  Germany  was  no  longer  the  only  country  in 
whicli  the  voice  of  the  reformer  was  heard.  It  had 
passed  the  frontiers  of  the  empire,  and  begun  to  shake 
the  foundations  of  the  Roman  power  in  the  different 
states  of  Christendom.  Frobenius,  the  famous  printer 
of  Bale,  had  published  the  collected  works  of  Luther, 
which  were  rapidly  disposed  of.  At  Bale  even  the 
bislioj)  ajiplaudcd  Luther;  and  the  cardinal  of  Sion, 
after  reading  his  work,  exclaimed,  somewhat  ironically, 
and  i)unniiig  on  his  name,  "  O  Luther,  thou  art  a  true 
Luther!"  {Laiitercr,  a  true  purifier.) 

Erasmus  was  at  Louvaiu  when  Luther's  works 
arrived  in  the  Netherlands.  The  prior  of  the  Augus- 
tines  of  Antwerp,  who  had  studied  at  Wittemberg,  and 
according  to  the  testimony  of  Erasmus,  held  true 
primitive  Christianity,  and  many  other  Belgians  be- 
sides, read  them  with  avidity.  "  But,"  says  the  scholar 
of  Rotterdam,  "  those  who  sought  only  their  own 
interest,  and  entertained  the  people  with  old  wives' 
fables,  gave  full  vent  to  their  grovelling  fanaticism." 
'■  It  is  not  in  my  power,"  says  Erasmus,  in  a  letter  to 
Luther.  "  to  describe  the  emotions,  the  truly  tragic 
scenes,  wliich  your  writings  have  produced." 

Frobenius  sent  six  hundred  copies  of  the  works  into 
France  and  S|)ain.  They  were  publicly  sold  at  Paris, 
and,  as  far  as  appears,  the  doctors  of  Sorbonne  then 
read  them  with  approbation.  "  It  was  time,"  s.aid 
several  of  them,  '•  that  those  engaged  in  the  study  of 
the  Holy  Scriptures  should  speak  thus  freely."  In 
England  the  works  were  received  with  still  greater 
eagerness.  Spanish  merchants  at  Antwerp  caused 
them  to  be  translated  into  their  native  tongue,  and 
sent  them  into  Spain.  '•  Assuredly,"  says  Pallavicini, 
'•  these  merchants  were  of  Moorish  blood." 

Calvi,  a  learned  bookseller  of  Pavia,  carried  a  great 
number  of  copies  of  the  works  into  Italy,  and  circulated 
them  in  all  the  transalpine  towns.  This  learned  man 
was  animated  not  by  a  love  of  gain,  but  a  desire  to 
contribute  to  the  revival  of  piety.  The  vigour  with 
which  Luther  maintained  the  cause  of  godliness  filled 
him  with  joy.  "  All  the  learned  of  Italy,"  exclaimed 
he,  '-will  concur  with  me;  and  we  will  see  you  cele- 
brated in  stanzas  composed  by  our  most  distinguished 
poets." 

Frobenius,  in  transmitting  a  copy  of  the  publication 
to  Luther,  told  him  all  these  gladdening  news,  and 
added  :  "  I  have  disposed  of  all  the  copies  except  ten, 
and  never  had  so  good  a  return."  Other  letters  also 
informed  Luther  of  the  joy  produced  by  his  works. 
"  I  am  glad,"  says  he,  "  that  the  truth  gives  so  much 
pleasure,  although  she  speaks  with  little  learning,  and 
in  a  style  so  barbarous." 

Such  was  the  commencement  of  the  revival  in  the 
different  countries  of  Europe.  In  all  countries,  if  we 
except  Switzerland,  and  even  France,  where  the  Gospel 
had  previously  been  heard,  the  arrival  of  Luther's 
writings  forms  the  first  page  in  the  history  of  the 
Reformation.  A  printer  of  Bale  diffused  these  first 
germs  of  the  truth.  At  the  moment  when  the  Roman 
pontiff  entertained  hopes  of  suppressing  the  work  la 


Germany,  it  began  in  France,  the  Netherlands,  Italy, 
Spain,  England,  and  Switzerland ;  and  now,  even 
should  Rome  hew  down  the  original  trunk,  what  would 
it  avail  ?  The  seeds  are  already  diffused  over  every 
soil. 


CHAPTER  II. 

c  War  seems  ended  in  Gciniany— Erk  Kevives  the  Contest— Debate  Ijc- 
twcen  Eck  and  Carlstadt— The  Quostion  of  the  Pope— Luther  Replies 
— Alarm  of  Luther's  Friends — Luther's  Courage — Tnith  triumphs  single- 
handed— Refusal  of  Duke  George— Delight  of  Mosellanus,  and  Fears 
of  Erasmus. 

While  the  combat  was  only  beginning  beyond  the 
limits  of  the  empire,  it  seemed  to  him  almost  ceased 
within  it.  The  most  blustering  soldiers  of  Rome,  the 
Franciscan  monks  of  Juterbock,  after  having  impru- 
dently attacked  Luther,  had,  after  a  vigorous  rejoinder 
from  the  reformer,  hastened  to  resume  silence.  The 
partizans  of  the  pope  were  quiet ;  and  Tetzel  was  unfit 
for  service.  Luther's  friends  conjured  him  not  to  per- 
sist in  the  contest,  and  he  had  promised  to  comply. 
The  theses  were  beginning  to  be  forgotten.  By  this 
perfidious  peace  the  eloquent  tongue  of  the  reformer 
was  completely  paralyzed ;  and  the  Reformation  seemed 
to  be  arrested.  "  But,"  says  Luther  afterwards,  when 
speaking  of  this  period,  "men  were  imagining  vain 
things,  for  the  Lord  had  arisen  to  judge  the  nations." 
"  God,"  says  he  in  another  place,  "  does  not  lead,  but 
urges  and  hurries  me  along.  I  am  not  my  own  mas- 
ter. I  would  fain  be  at  rest,  but  am  precipitated  into 
the  midst  of  tumult  and  revolution." 

The  person  who  renewed  the  contest  was  Eck  the 
schoolman,  Luther's  old  friend,  and  the  author  of  the 
"  Obelisks."  He  was  sincerely  attached  to  the  papacy, 
but  seems  to  have  been  devoid  of  genuine  religious 
sentiment,  and  to  Lave  belonged  to  a  class  of  men,  at 
all  times  too  numerous,  who  value  learning,  and  even 
theology  and  religion,  merely  as  a  means  of  gaining  a 
name  in  the  world.  Vain  glory  lurks  under  the  priest's 
cassock  as  well  as  the  soldier's  helmet.  Eck  had 
studied  the  art  of  disputation  according  to  the  scho- 
lastic rules,  and  was  an  acknowledged  master  in  this 
species  of  warfare.  While  the  knights  of  the  Middle 
Ages,  and  the  warriors  at  the  period  of  the  Reforma- 
tion, sought  glory  in  tournaments,  the  schoolmen  sought 
it  in  the  syllogistic  disputations,  which  were  often 
exhibited  in  universities.  Eck,  who  was  full  of  him- 
self, stood  high  in  his  own  opinion,  and  was  proud  of 
his  talents,  of  the  popularity  of  his  cause,  and  the 
trophies  which  he  had  won  in  eight  universities  in 
Hungary,  Lombardy,  and  Germany,  eagerly  longed  for 
an  opportunity  of  displaying  his  power  and  dexterity  in 
debate  with  the  reformer.  He  had  spared  notbing  to 
secure  the  reputation  of  being  one  of  the  most  celebrated 
scholars  of  the  age.  He  was  ever  seeking  to  stir  up 
new  discussions,  to  produce  a  sensation,  and  by  means 
of  his  exploits  procure  access  to  all  the  enjoyments  of 
life.  A  tour  which  he  made  in  Italy  had,  by  his  own 
account,  been  only  a  series  of  triumphs.     The  most 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


learned  of  the  learned  had  been  constrained  to  sub- 
scribe to  his  theses.  A  practised  bravado,  he  fixed  his 
eyes  on  a  new  field  of  battle,  where  he  thought  him- 
self secure  of  victory.  That  little  monk,  who  had 
grown  up  all  at  once  into  a  giant, — that  Luther,  whom 
no  one  had  hitherto  been  able  to  vanquish, — offended 
his  pride,  and  excited  his  jealousy.  It  might  be  that 
Eck,  in  seeking  his  own  glory,  might  destroy  Rome ; 
.  .  ,  but  scholastic  vanity  was  not  to  be  arrested 
by  any  such  consideration.  Theologians,  as  well  as 
princes,  have  repeatedly  sacrificed  the  general  interest 
to  their  individual  glory.  Let  us  attend  to  the  circum- 
stances which  gave  the  doctor  of  Ingolstadt  an  oppor- 
tunity of  entering  the  lists  with  his  troublesome  rival. 

The  zealous,  but  too  ardent  Carlstadt  was  still  of 
one  mind  with  Luther, — the  special  bond  of  imion 
between  them  being  then-  attachiiient  to  the  doctrine 
of  grace,  and  their  admiration  of  St.  Augustine.  Carl- 
stadt, who  was  of  an  enthusiastic  temperament,  and 
possessed  little  prudence,  was  not  a  man  to  be  arrested 
by  the  address  and  policy  of  a  Miltitz.  In  opposition 
to  the  "  Obelisks  "  of  Dr.  Eck,  he  had  published  theses 
in  which  he  defended  Luther  and  their  common  faith. 
Eck  had  replied,  and  Carlstadt,  determined  not  to  leave 
him  the  last  word,  had  rejoined.  The  combat  grew 
warm.  Eck,  eager  to  avail  himself  of  so  favourable 
an  opportunity,  had  thrown  down  the  gauntlet;  and 
the  impctu<ius  Carlstadt  had  taken  it  up.  God  em- 
]iloyed  tlie  passions  of  these  two  men  to  accomplish  His 
designs.  Though  Luther  had  taken  no  part  in  these 
debates,  he  was  destined  to  be  the  hero  of  the  fight. 
There  are  men  whom  the  force  of  circumstances  always 
brings  upon  the  scene.  Leipsic  was  fixed  upon,  and 
hence  the  origin  of  the  celebrated  discussion  which 
bears  its  name. 

Eck  cared  little  about  combating  with  Carlstadt, 
and  even  vanquishing  him.  Luther  was  the  opponent 
whom  he  had  in  view.  He  accordingly  employed 
every  means  to  bring  him  into  the  field;  and  with  this 
view  published  thirteen  theses,  directed  against  the 
leading  doctrines  which  had  been  espoused  by  the 
reformer.  The  thirteenth  was  in  these  terms :  "  We 
deny  that  the  Roman  Church  was  not  superior  to 
other  churches  before  the  time  of  Pope  Sylvester ;  and 
we  acknowledge  at  all  times,  that  he  who  has  occupied 
the  see  of  St.  Peter  and  professed  his  faith,  is  the  suc- 
cessor of  St.  Peter,  and  the  vicar  of  Jesus  Christ." 
Sylvester  lived  in  the  time  of  Constantino  the  great ; 
and  hence  Eck,  in  this  theses,  denied  that  the  primacy 
which  Rome  enjoyed  was  conferred  on  her  by  that 
emperor. 

Luther,  whose  consent  to  remain  silent  had  not  been 
given  without  reluctance,  was  strongly  excited  when 
lie  read  these  propositions.  He  saw  that  he  was  the 
person  aimed  at,  and  felt  that  he  could  not,  with 
honour,  evade  the  contest.  "  This  man,"  said  he, 
'•  names  Carlstadt  as  his  antagonist,  and  at  the  same 
time  makes  his  assault  upon  me.  But  God  reigns, 
and  knows  what  result  He  designs  to  bring  out  of  this 
tragedy.  The  question  is  not  between  Dr.  Eck  and 
me.  God's  purpose  will  be  accomplished.  Thanks  to 
Eck ;  this  affair,  which  hitherto  has  been  mere  sport, 
will  at  length  become  serious,  and  give  a  fatal  blow  to 
the  tyranny  of  Rome  and  the  Roman  pontiff." 


Rome  herself  broke  the  agreement.  She  did  more, 
— when  she  renewed  the  signal  for  battle,  she  directed 
it  to  a  point  which  Luther  had  not  previously  attacked. 
The  subject  which  Di-.  I'^rk  siii;jled  out  for  his  antago- 
nists was  the  priuiacv  "f  ihc  |.n|,c.  In  thus  following 
the  dangerous  exampK-  «  hi(-li  'IVlzel  had  given,  Rome 
invited  the  blows  of  the  champion ;  and  if  she  left  her 
mangled  members  on  the  arena,  she  had  herself  to 
blame  for  the  punishment  inflicted  by  his  mighty  arm. 

The  pontifical  supremacy  being  once  overthrown, 
the  whole  of  the  Roman  platform  fell  to  pieces. 
Hence,  the  papacy  was  in  imminent  peril ;  and  yet 
neither  Miltitz  nor  Cajetan  took  any  steps  to  prevent 
this  now  contest.  Did  they  imagine  that  the  Reforma- 
tion would  be  vanquished,  or  were  they  smitten  with 
that  blindness  by  which  the  ruin  of  the  mighty  is 
accomplished? 

Luther,  who,  by  his  long  silence,  had  given  an 
example  of  rare  moderation,  boldly  met  the  challenge 
of  his  antagonist,  whose  theses  he  immediately  opposed 
by  counter  theses.  The  last  was  in  these  terms :  "  The 
primacy  of  the  Church  of  Rome  is  defended  by  means 
of  miserable  decretals  of  the  Roman  pontiffs,  com- 
posed within  the  last  four  hundred  years ;  whereas  this 
primacy  is  contradicted  by  the  authentic  history  of 
eleven  centuries,  the  declarations  of  Holy  Scripture, 
and  the  canons  of  the  Council  of  Nice,  which  is  the 
purest  of  all  councils." 

At  the  same  time  Luther  thus  wrote  to  the  elector : 
"  God  knows  it  was  my  firm  determination  to  be  silent ; 
and  I  rejoiced  to  see  the  game  at  length  brought  to  a 
close.  So  faithfully  have  I  observed  the  paction  con- 
cluded with  the  pope's  commissioner,  that  I  did  not 
reply  to  Sylvester  Prierias,  notwithstanding  of  the 
taunts  of  adversaries  and  the  counsels  of  friends.  But 
now  Dr.  Eck  attacks  me ;  and  not  only  me,  but  the 
whole  university  of  Wittemberg  besides.  I  caimut 
allow  it  to  be  thus  covered  with  obloquy." 

At  the  same  time  Luther  wrote  to  Carlstadt:  "I 
am  nawilling,  excellent  Andrew,  that  you  should 
engage  in  this  quarrel,  since  I  am  the  person  aimed 
at."  "  I  will  gladly  lay  aside  my  serious  labours  and 
enter  into  the  sports  of  these  flatterers  of  the  Roman 
pontiff."  Then  apostrophizing  his  adversary  with  dis- 
dain, and  calling  from  Wittemberg  to  Ingolstadt,  he 
exclaims  :  "  Now,  then,  my  dear  Eck,  be  courageous, 
aud  gird  thy  sword  upon  thy  thigh,  thou  mighty 
man.  Having  failed  to  please  you  as  mediator,  per- 
haps I  will  please  you  better  as  antagonist.  Not  that 
I  have  any  thought  of  vanquishing  you ;  but  after  all 
the  trophies  which  you  have  gained  in  Hungary,  Lom- 
bardy,  and  Bavaria,  (at  least  if  we  are  to  take  your 
account  for  it,)  I  will  give  you  an  opportunity  of 
acquiring  the  name  of  the  conqueror  of  Saxony  and 
Misnia,  so  that  you  will  be  for  ever  saluted  by  the 
glorious  title  of  Augustus." 

All  Luther's  friends  did  not  share  his  courage,  for 
up  to  this  hour  none  had  been  able  to  withstand  the 
sophistry  of  Dr.  Eck.  But  what  alarmed  them  most 
was  the  subject  of  dispute — the  primacy  of  the  pope  ! 
.  .  .  How  does  the  poor  monk  of  Wittemberg  dare 
to  encounter  this  giant  who,  for  ages,  has  crushed  all 
his  enemies  ?  The  courtiers  of  the  elector  begin  to 
tremble.     Spalatin,  the  confidant  of  the  prince,  and 


TRUTH  TRIUMPHS  UNAIDED. 


137 


intiinixte  friciul  of  the  reformer,  is  full  of  anxiety. 
Frederick,  too,  feels  uneasy  :  even  the  sword  of  the 
knight  of  the  lioly  .sepulchre,  witli  -which  he  Iiiid  been 
armed  at  Jerusalem,  would  he  unequal  to  this  warfare. 
Luther  aloue  feels  no  alarm.  His  thought  is :  The 
Lord  will  deliver  him  into  my  hands.  The  faith  with 
which  ho  is  animated  enables  him  to  strengthen  his 
friends.  "  I  beg  of  you,  my  dear  Spalatin,"  said  he, 
"  not  to  give  yoiirsclf  up  to  fear ;  you  know  well  that 
if  Christ  was  not  with  mc,  all  that  I  have  done  up  to 
this  hour  must  have  been  xny  ruin.  Was  it  not  lately 
written  from  Italy,  to  the  chancellor  of  the  Duke  of 
Pomerauia,  that  I  had  upset  Rome,  and  that,  not 
knowing  how  to  appease  tlic  (uniiiH.  liny  were  purpos- 
ing to  attack  me,  not  ac<'"iNiiii,t;  l^  ili.'  r..iins  df  justice, 
but  by  Roman  finesse,  (the  \rry  wonl^  u-nl.)  that  is, 
I  presume,  by  poison,  amlm>h.  ami  :i>>;i->iii;iliiiu  .' 

"I  restrain  myself,  and  fi-nni  l.ur  In  Ihc  elector  and 
the  university,  keep  back  many  tliin-s  \\  liich  I  would 
employ  against  Kabylon,  were  1  elsewhere.  0  my 
poor  Spalatin  !  it  is  impossible  to  speak  of  Scripture 
and  of  (he  Church  without  irritating  the  beast.  Never, 
therefore,  liope  to  see  me  at  rest,  at  least  until  I 
reiHiiinri'  |]iinl,i;fy.  If  this  work  is  of  God,  it  will 
lint  lie  leniiiii.ited  before  all  my  friends  have  forsaken 
me.  as  ('hri>t  was  forsaken  by  His  disciples.  Truth 
will  endure  single-handed,  and  triumph  iu  virtue  of  its 
own  jirowess,  not  mine  or  yours,  or  any  man's.  If  I 
fall,  the  world  will  not  perish  with  me.  But,  wretch 
that  I  am,  I  fear  I  am  not  worthy  to  die  in  such  a 
cause."  "Rome,"  he  again  wrote  about  this  time, — 
'•  Rome  is  burning  with  eagerness  to  destroy  me,  while 
I  sit  quiet  and  hold  her  in  derision.  I  am  informed 
that,  iu  the  field  of  Flora  at  Rome,  one  Martin  Luther 
has  been  publicly  burned  in  effigy,  after  being  loaded 
with  execrations.  I  abide  their  fury.  The  whole 
world,"  continues  he,  "is  in  agitation,  heaving  to  and 
fro.  What  will  happen  1  God  knows.  For  my  part, 
I  foresee  wars  and  disasters.  The  Lord  have  mercy 
on  us." 

Luther  wrote  letter  after  letter  to  Duke  George,  in 
whose  states  Leipsic  is,  entreating  permission  to  repair 
thither  and  take  part  in  the  debate;  but  received  no 
answer.  The  grandson  of  the  Bohemian  king,  Podie- 
brad,  alarmed  at  Luther's  proposition  concerning  the 
]iope,  and  afraid  of  seeing  Saxony  involved  in  the  wars 
of  which  Bohemia  had  so  long  been  the  theatre, 
was  unwilling  to  grant  the  doctor's  request.  Luther, 
therefore,  determined  to  publish  explanations  of  his 
thirteenth  theses.  But  this  treatise,  far  from  persuad- 
ing Duke  George,  on  the  contrary  confirmed  him  in 
his  resolution.  Positively  refusing  to  give  the  reformer 
authority  to  debate,  he  merely  allowed  him  to  be  pre- 
sent as  a  spectator.  This  was  a  great  disappointment 
to  Luther.  Nevertheless,  as  he  had  only  one  wish, 
and  that  was  to  obey  God — he  resolved  to  attend  as  a 
spectator,  and  await  the  result. 

The  prince  at  the  same  time  did  everything  in  his 
power  to  forward  the  discussion  between  Eck  and 
Carlstadt.  Duke  George  was  devoted  to  the  ancient 
doctrine ;  but  he  was  upright  and  sincere,  and  friendly 
to  free  inquiry ;  and  did  not  think  that  an  opinion  was 
to  be  charged  with  heresy,  merely  because  it  displeased 
the  court  of  Rome.     The  elector,  moreover,  urged  his 


cousin  to  permit  the  discussion ;  and  the  duke,  con- 
firmed by  Frederick's  statements,  ordered  it  to  take 
place. 

Bishop  Adolphus  of  Merseburg,  in  whose  diocese 
Leipsic  is  situated,  was  more  alive  than  Miltitz  and 
Cajetan  to  the  danger  of  trusting  such  important 
questions  to  the  chances  of  single  combat.  Rome  could 
not  expose  the  fruit  of  the  labours  of  so  many  ages  to 
such  hazard.  All  the  theologians  of  Leipsic  were 
equally  alarmed,  and  implored  their  bishop  to  prevent 
the  discussion.  Adolphus  accordingly  presented  most 
energetic  remonstrances  to  Duke  George,  who  replied 
with  much  good  sense:  "I  am  surprised  at  seeing  a 
bishop  so  terrified  at  the  ancient  and  laudable  custom 
of  our  fathers,  in  examining  doubtful  questions  as  to 
matters  of  faith.  If  your  theologians  refuse  to  defend 
their  doctrines,  the  money  given  to  them  would  be  far 
better  employed  in  the  maintenance  of  aged  women 
and  young  children,  who  would  be  able  at  least  to  spin 
and  sing." 

This  letter  had  little  effect  on  the  bishop  and  his 
theologians.  There  is  in  error  a  secret  consciousness 
which  makes  it  dread  inquiry  even  when  making  loud 
professions  of  being  favourable  to  it.  After  an  impru- 
dent advance  it  makes  a  cowardly  retreat.  Truth  did 
not  give  the  challenge,  but  firmly  stood  its  ground. 
Error  gave  it,  and  ran  off.  Moreover,  the  prosperity 
of  the  university  of  Wittemberg  excited  the  jealousy 
of  that  of  Leipsic.  The  monks  and  priests  inveighed 
from  the  pidpits  of  that  city,  urging  the  people  to  shun 
the  new  heretics — slandering  Luther,  and  painting 
him,  as  well  as  his  friends,  in  the  blackest  colours,  in 
order  to  stir  up  the  fanaticism  of  the  populace  against 
the  reformers.  Tetzel,  who  was  still  alive,  awoke  to 
cry  from  the  depth  of  his  retreat, — "It  is  the  devil 
that  is  forcing  on  this  contest." 

All  the  professors  of  Leipsic,  however,  did  not  par- 
ticipate in  these  apprehensions.  Some  belonged  to  the 
indifferent  class,  consisting  of  persons  who  are  always' 
ready  to  laugh  at  the  faults  of  both  parties.  Of  this 
class  was  the  Greek  professor,  Peter  Mosellanus,  who 
cared  very  little  for  John  Eck,  Carlstadt,  and  Martin 
Luther;  but  anticipated  great  amusement  from  the 
strife.  Writing  to  his  friend  Erasmus,  he  says  :  "  John 
Eck,  who  is  the  most  illustrious  of  pen  gladiators  and 
rhapsodists,  and  like  the  Socrates  of  Aristophanes, 
contemns  even  the  gods,  is  to  have  a  turn  in  debate 
with  Andrew  Carlstadt.  The  battle  will  end  in  up- 
roar, and  there  will  be  laughter  in  it  for  ten  Demo- 
cratuses." 

The  timid  Erasmus,  on  the  contrary,  was  frightened 
at  the  idea  of  a  combat,  and  his  prudence — ever  ready 
to  take  alarm — would  fain  have  prevented  this  discus- 
sion. In  a  letter  to  Melancthou,  he  says:  "If  you 
will  be  advised  by  Erasmus,  you  will  be  more  anxious 
to  promote  the  advancement  of  sound  literature  than 
to  attack  the  enemies  of  it.  My  belief  is,  that  in  this 
way  our  progress  will  be  greater.  Above  all,  while 
engaged  in  this  struggle,  let  us  not  forget  that  victory 
must  be  obtained,  not  only  by  eloquence,  but  also  by 
moderation  and  meekness."  Neither  the  alarms  of 
priests,  nor  the  prudence  of  pacificators,  could  now 
prevent  the  combat.  The  parties  made  ready  their 
weapons. 


IIISTOKY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


CHAPTER  III. 

Aniv.ll  of  Euk  and  IheWittembei-gers— Amsdorf— The  Students— Carl stadt's 
accident— Placard— Eck  and  Lntlicr—Pleissenburg— Shall  Judges  he 
arpointed?— Luther  objects. 

At  tlie  time  when  the  electors  met  at  Frankfort  to 
give  an  emperor  to  Germany,  (June,  1519,)  theologians 
met  at  Leipsic  for  an  act  which,  though  unnoticed  by 
the  world,  was  destined  to  be  not  less  important  in  its 
results. 

Eck  was  the  first  who  arrived  at  the  place  of  ren- 
dezvous. On  the  21st  June  he  entered  Leipsic  in  com- 
pany with  Poliander,  a  young  man  whom  he  had 
brought  from  Ingolstadt  to  report  the  debate.  All 
kinds  of  honours  were  paid  to  the  scholastic  doctor, 
who,  on  the  fete  Dieu,  paraded  the  town  in  full  canoni- 
cals, and  at  the  head  of  a  numerous  procession.  There 
wa.s  a  general  eagerness  to  see  him.  According  to  his 
own  account,  all  the  inhabitants  were  in  his  favour. 
"  Nevertheless,"  adds  he,  "  a  rumour  was  current  in 
the  town  that  I  was  to  be  Avorsted  in  the  encounter." 

The  day  after  the  fete — viz.,  Friday,  24th  June, 
(St.  Johu's  day) — tlie  Wittembergers  arrived.  Carl- 
stadt,  Eck's  destined  opponent,  came  first  in  a  chariot 
by  himself.  Next,  in  an  open  carringe,  came  Duke 
ISarnim  of  Pomerania,  who  was  then  studying  at  Wit- 
temberg  under  the  direction  of  a  tutor,  and  had  been 
elected  rector  of  the  university.  On  each  side  of  him 
sat  the  two  great  theologians, — the  fathers  of  the  Re- 
formation,— Mclancthon  and  Luther.  Melancthon  had 
been  unwilling  to  quit  his  friend.  lie  had  said  to 
Spalatin:  "Martin,  the  soldier  of  the  Lord,  has  stirred 
up  this  fffitid  marsh.  I  cannot  think  of  the  shameful 
conduct  of  the  pope's  theologians  without  indignation. 
Be  firm,  and  adhere  to  us."  Luther  himself  had  ex- 
pressed a  desire  that  his  Achates,  as  he  has  been 
■  called,  should  accompany  him. 

John  Lauge,  vicar  of  the  Augustines,  some  doctors 
in  law,  several  masters  of  arts,  two  licentiates  in  tlieo- 
logy,  and  other  ecclesiastics,  among  whom  Nicholas 
Amsdorf  was  conspicuous,  closed  the  rear.  Amsdorf, 
the  member  of  a  noble  family  in  Saxouy,  disregarding 
the  brilliant  career  which  his  birth  might  have  opened 
to  him,  had  devoted  himself  to  theology.  The  theses 
on  indulgences  having  brought  him  to  the  knowledge 
of  the  truth,  he  had  forthwitli  made  a  bold  profession 
of  the  faith.  Vigorous  in  intellect,  and  vehement  in 
temper,  Amsdorf  often  pushed  on  Luther,  by  nature 
abundantly  ardent,  to  acts  which  were,  pcrh;ip=.  impru- 
dent. Born  to  higli  rank,  he  was  not  nMT.nvrd  l.y  the 
gi-cat,  a?id  occasionally  addressed  tlicni  \\  itii  u  tV<cdom 
bordering  on  rudeness.  "  The  Gospel  uf  J  cms  Christ," 
said  he  one  day  in  an  assembly  of  nobles,  '-belongs 
to  the  poor  and  afilictcd,  and  not  to  you  princes,  lords, 
and  courtiers,  whose  lives  are  passed  in  luxury  and 

joy-" 

But  we  have  not  yet  mentioned  the  whole  train  from 
Wittemberg.  A  large  body  of  students  accompanied 
their  teachers.  Eck  affirms  that  the  number  amounted 
to  two  hundred.  Armed  with  pikes  and  halberds, 
they  walked  beside  the  carriages  of  the  doctors,  ready 
to  defend  them,  and  proud  of  their  cause. 


Such  was  the  order  iu  which  the  body  of  reformers 
entered  Leipsic.  Just  as  they  passed  the  Grimma  gate, 
which  is  iu  front  of  St.  Paul's  cemetery,  one  of  the 
wheels  of  Carlstadt's  carriage  broke  down.  The 
archdeacon,  who,  with  great  self-complacency,  was 
enjoying  the  solemn  entry,  tumbled  into  the  mire. 
He  was  not  hurt,  but  was  obliged  to  proceed  to  his 
lodgings  on  foot.  Luther's  chariot,  which  was  imme- 
diately behind  Carlstadt's,  moved  rapidly  forward,  and 
delivered  the  reformer  safe  and  sound.  The  inhabi- 
tants of  Leipsic,  who  had  assembled  to  witness  the 
entry  of  the  Wittemberg  champions,  considered  the 
accident  as  a  bad  omen  for  Carlstadt ;  and  the  infer- 
ence was  soon  current  over  the  town — viz.,  that  he 
would  be  defeated  in  the  combat,  but  that  Luther 
would  come  off  victorious. 

Adolphus  of  Merseburg  did  not  remain  idle.  As 
soon  as  he  learned  the  approach  of  Luther  and  Carl- 
stadt, and  even  before  they  had  lighted  from  their 
carriages,  he  caused  a  notice  to  be  posted  up  on  all  the 
church-doors,  forbidding  the  discussion  under  pain  of 
excommunication.  Duke  George,  astonished  at  his 
presumption,  ordered  the  town  council  to  teai-  down 
the  bishop's  placard,  and  imprison  the  individual  which 
had  been  employed  to  put  it  up.  The  Duke  George, 
who  had  come  in  person  to  Leipsic,  attended  by  all  his 
court, — among  others,  by  Jerome  Emser,  with  whom 
Luther  spent  the  famous  evening  at  Dresden, — sent  the 
disputants  the  usual  presents.  "The  duke,"  boasted 
Eck,  "  presented  me  with  a  fine  stag,  and  gave  Carl- 
stadt only  a  roebuck." 

Eck  was  no  sooner  informed  of  Luther's  arrival  than 
he  called  upon  him.  "  What ! "  said  he,  "  it  is  said  tluit 
you  refuse  to  debate  with  me!  " 

Luther. — "  How  can  I  when  the  duke  forbids  me  ?  " 

Eck. — "If  I  cannot  debate  with  you,  I  am  not 
anxious  to  have  anything  to  do  with  Carlstadt.  It 
was  for  you  I  came  here."  Then,  after  a  short  pause, 
he  added:  "If  I  obtain  the  duke's  permission,  will  you 
take  the  field?" 

Luther,  {joyfalbj.) — "  Obtain  it,  and  we  shall  debate." 

Eck  forthwith  repaired  to  the  duke,  and  tried  to 
dissipate  his  fears,  representing  to  him  that  he  was 
certain  of  victory;  and  that  the  authority  of  the  pope, 
so  far  from  suffering  by  the  discussion,  would  come 
out  of  it  more  glorious.  "  We  must  strike  at  the  head. 
If  Luther  stands  erect,  so  do  all  his  adherents — if  he 
falls,  they  all  fall."     George  granted  permission. 

The  duke  had  caused  a  large  hall  to  be  prepared 
in  his  palace  of  Pleissenburg.  Two  desks  had  been 
erected  opposite  to  each  other ;  tables  arranged  for  the 
notaries  who  were  to  take  down  the  discussion  in  writ- 
ing ;  and  benches  for  the  spectators.  The  desks  and 
benches  were  covered  with  rich  tapestry.  At  the 
doctor  of  AVittemberg's  desk  was  suspended  the  portrait 
of  St.  Martin,  after  whom  he  was  named  ;  and  at  that 
of  Dr.  Eck,  the  portrait  of  the  knight  of  St.  George. 
"  We  shall  see,"  said  the  arrogant  Eck,  with  his  eye 
on  the  emblem,  "whether  I  do  not,  with  my  steed, 
trample  down  my  enemies."  Everything  bespoke  the 
importance  which  was  attached  to  the  combat. 

On  25th  Juue,  the  parties  met  in  the  castle  to 
arrange  the  order  of  proceeding.  Eck,  who  had  more 
confidence  in  his  declamation  and  gesture,  than  in  his 


PRKLIMINARV  ARRANGEMENTS. 


139 


nrgumciit?,  cxcliiiincd :  "  Wc  will  debate  freely,  off 
hand ;  and  the  notaries  will  uot  take  down  our  words 
iu  writing." 

Carlstadt. — "  The  agreement  was,  that  the  discussion 
should  be  written  down,  published,  and  submitted  to 
the  judgment  of  all  men." 

i'c/i-. — "To  write  down  everything,  is  to  wear  out 
the  spirit  of  tlie  disputants,  and  protract  the  battle. 
In  that  case,  there  can  be  no  hope  of  the  vivacity 
requisite  iu  an  animated  debate.  Do  not  lay  an  arrest 
on  the  flow  of  eloquence." 

Dr.  Eck's  friends  supported  his  proposal,  but  Carl- 
stadt persisted  in  his  objection,  and  Eck  was  obliged 
to  yield. 

Evh: — "  Be  it  so,  lot  there  be  writing ;  but,  at  all 
events,  the  debate,  when  taken  down  by  the  notaries, 
is  not  to  be  published  before  it  has  been  submitted  to 
the  decision  of  judges." 

Dither. — "  The  truth  of  Dr.  Eck  and  the  Eckians 
fears  the  light." 

Eck. — "There  must  be  judges." 

Luther. — "  And  what  judges  ? " 

Eck. — "  After  the  debate  is  over  wc  will  agree  upon 
them." 

The  object  of  the  partizans  of  Rome  was  evident. 
If  the  theologians  of  AVittemberg  accepted  judges,  their 
cause  was  lost.  It  was  obvious  beforehand  who  the 
persons  were  whom  their  opponents  would  suggest ; 
and  yet  the  reformers,  if  they  refused  them,  would  be 
covered  with  obloquy,  as  it  would  be  circulated  every- 
where that  they  were  afraid  of  submitting  to  impartial 
judges. 

The  judges  whom  the  reformei's  desired  were  not 
individuals  whose  opinion  was  already  declared,  but  the 
whole  of  Christendom.  Their  appeal  was  made  to  the 
general  voice.  It  mattered  little  who  condemned  them, 
if,  ill  i)lcading  the  cause  in  presence  of  the  Ciiristian 
world,  they  succeeded  in  bringing  some  individuals  to 
flic  light.  "  Luther,"  says  a  Roman  historian,  "  de- 
manded all  the  faithful  for  judges — in  other  words, 
demanded  a  tribunal  so  numerous  that  there  could  be 
uo  urn  large  enough  to  hold  its  votes." 

The  meeting  broke  up.  "  See  their  stratagem," 
said  Luther  and  his  friends  to  each  other.  "They 
would,  to  a  certainty,  ask  to  have  the  pope  or  the 
universities  for  judges." 

In  fact,  the  theologians  of  Rome,  next  morning,  sent 
one  of  their  party  to  Luther,  with  a  proposal  that  the 
judge  should  be — the  pope!  .  .  .  "The  pope!" 
said  Luther,  "  how  can  I  accept  him  ?  " 

"  Beware,"  exclaimed  all  his  friends,  "  of  accepting 
conditions  so  unjust."  Eck  and  his  friends  having 
considted  anew,  gave  up  the  pope,  and  proposed  certain 
luiiversities.  "  Don't  take  from  us  the  liberty  which 
you  have  already  gi'anted  us,"  replied  Luther.  "  AVe 
cannot  yield  this  point,"  resumed  Eck.  "Then,"  ex- 
claimed Luther,  "I  don't  debate." 

They  again  parted,  and  what  had  just  passed  was 
talked  of  over  the  whole  town.  The  Romans  kept 
crying  everywhere:  "Luther  won't  debate — he  refuses 
to  accept  of  any  judge  ! "  Commenting  on,  and  tortur- 
ing his  words,  they  endeavoured  to  ri'iiresent  them  in 
the  most  unfavourable  light.  "  ^VIl;U  !  truly.'  he  will 
not  debate  ? "  say  the  best  friends  of  the  reformer,  and 


hasten  to  him  to  express  their  alarm.  "  You  decline 
the  contest!"  exclaim  they.  "  Your  refusal  will  bring 
eternal  disgrace  on  your  university  and  your  cause." 
This  was  to  attack  Luther  in  his  most  tender  point. 
"Very  well,"  replied  he,  his  heart  filled  with  indig- 
nation, "I  accept  the  terms  which  are  imposed  on  me; 
but  I  reserve  a  right  of  appeal,  and  I  decline  the  court 
of  Rome." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Tlic  Procession— Mass— Mosellaiius— rent,  Sancle  ."ijiiriJus.'— rortraits  of 
J.uIIht  and  Carlstadt — Doctor  Eck — <jai*lstadt's  Books — Merit  of  Cou- 
gmity— Niitural  Powers— Scholastic  Distinction — Point  where  Rome 
and  tlic  Iteformation  separate— Grace  gives  man  freedom— Carlstartt's 
Ni)tL--Duulv  -Commotion  in  the  auditory — Melancthon  during  the  debate 
— :\Ianniuvre3  of  Eck — Luther  Prea"hes — The  Citizens  of  Leipsic— Quar- 
rels of  Students  and  quarrels  of  Teachers. 

The  27th  of  June  was  the  day  fixed  for  the  commence- 
ment of  the  discussion.  In  the  morning  the  parties 
met  in  the  hall  of  the  university,  and  thereafter  walked 
in  procession  to  the  Church  of  St.  Thomas,  where  high 
mass  was  celebrated  by  the  order  and  at  the  expense 
of  the  duke.  After  service,  those  present  proceeded 
to  the  ducal  castle.  At  their  head  walked  Duke 
George  and  the  Duke  of  Pomerania;  next  came  counts, 
abbots,  knights,  and  other  persons  of  distinction  ;  and 
lastly,  the  doctors  of  the  two  parties.  A  guard  com- 
posed of  seventy-six  citizens,  carrying  halberds,  accom- 
panied the  procession,  with  colours  flying,  and  drums 
beating,  and  halted  at  the  castle  gate. 

On  the  arrival  at  the  palace,  each  took  his  place  in 
the  hall  where  the  debate  was  to  take  place, — Duke 
George,  the  hereditary  Prince  John,  Prince  George  of 
Anhalt,  a  boy  of  twelve,  and  the  Duke  of  Pomerania, 
occupying  the  seats  allotted  to  them. 

Mosellanus,  by  order  of  the  duke,  mounted  a  pulpit, 
to  remind  the  theologians  of  the  manner  in  which  the 
discussion  was  to  be  carried  on.  "  If  you  begin  to 
quarrel,"  said  the  orator  to  them,  "  what  difference 
will  there  be  between  a  theological  disputant  and  a 
swaggering  duellist?  What  is  victory  here  but  just  to 
recall  a  brother  from  his  error  ?  .  .  .  .  Each,  it 
would  seem,  should  be  more  desirous  to  be  conquered 
than  to  conquer." 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  address  sacred  music  echoed 
along  the  aisles  of  the  Pleissenburg,  the  whole  assem- 
bly knelt  down,  and  the  ancieut  hymn  of  invocation 
to  the  Holy  Spirit,  Veni.,  Sanctc  Spiritiis,  was  sung. 
Solemn  hour  iu  the  annals  of  the  Reformation !  The 
invocation  was  thrice  repeated  ;  and  while  the  solemn 
chant  was  pealing,  the  defenders  of  the  ancient,  and 
the  champions  of  the  new  doctrines,  the  men  of  the 
Church  of  the  Middle  Ages,  and  those  desirous  of 
re-establishing  the  Church  of  the  apostles,  mingling 
together  without  distinction,  in  lowly  attitude  bent 
their  faces  to  the  ground.  The  ancient  tie  of  one  single 
communion  still  united  all  these  different  minds,  and 
the  same  prayer  still  preceded  from  all  these  lips,  as  if 
a  single  heart  had  dictated  it. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


These  were  the  last  moments  of  external 
unity  for  which  a  new  spiritual  living  unity  was  about 
to  be  substituted.  The  Holy  Spirit  was  invoked  in 
behalf  of  the  Church,  and  the  Holy  Spirit  was  about 
to  answer  by  a  revival  of  Christendom. 

When  the  hymn  and  prayer  were  finished,  the  as- 
sembly rose  up.  The  discussion  should  have  now 
commenced ;  but  as  the  hour  of  noon  had  arrived, 
there  was  an  adjournment  of  two  hours. 

The  leading  personages  who  proposed  to  attend  the 
debate,  having  dined  with  the  duke,  returned  with  him, 
after  dinner,  to  the  castle  hall,  which  was  filled  with 
spectntors.  Meel incjs  of  this  description  were  the  pub- 
lic assc'iiil.li.'s  ill  \\liich  the  representatives  of  the  age 
(liscii    I  1  ■;  I'    !'i^  I    I  if  general  and  engrossing  interest. 


t^m^'^j"^ 


The  orators  were  soon  at  their  post.  That  a  better 
idea  may  be  formed  of  them,  we  will  give  their  por- 
traits, as  drawn  by  one  of  the  most  impartial  witnesses 
of  the  debate. 

"  Martin  Luther  is  of  middle  size,  and  so  emaciated 
by  hard  study  that  one  might  almost  count  his  bones. 
Pie  is  in  the  vigour  of  life,  and  his  voice  is  clear  and 
sonorous.  His  learning  and  knowledge  of  the  Holy 
Scriptures  are  beyond  compare;  he  has  the  whole 
Word  of  God  at  command.  In  addition  to  this,  he 
has  great  store  of  arguments  and  ideas.  It  were,  per- 
haps, to  be  wished  that  he  had  a  little  more  judgment 
in  arranging  his  materials.  In  conversation  he  is  can- 
did and  courteous ;  there  is  nothing  stoical  or  haughty 
about  him ;  he  has  the  art  of  accommodating  himself 
to  every  individual.  His  address  is  pleasing,  and 
replete  with  good  humour.  He  displays  firmness,  and 
is  never  discomposed  by  the  menaces  of  his  adversaries, 
be  they  what  they  may.  One  is,  in  a  manner,  com- 
pelled to  believe  that,  in  the  great  things  which  he  has 
done,  God  must  have  assisted  him.  He  is  blamed, 
however,  for  being  more  sarcastic  in  his  rejoinders 
than  becomes  a  theologian,  especially  when  he  an- 
nounces new  religious  ideas. 

"  Carlstadt  is  of  smaller  stature ;  his  complexion  is  | 


dark  and  sallow,  his  voice  disagreeable,  his  memory 
less  retentive,  and  his  temper  more  easily  ruffled  than 
Luther's.  Still,  however,  he  possesses,  though  in  an 
inferior  degree,  the  same  qualities  which  distinguish 
his  friend. 

'•  Eck  is  tall  and  broad-shouldered.     He  has  a  strong 
and  truly  German  voice,  and  such  excellent  lungs  that 
he  would  be  well  heard  on  the  stage,  or  would  make 
an  admirable  town-crier.     His  accent  is  rather  coarse 
than  elegant ;  and  he  has  none  of  the  gracefulness  so 
much  lauded  by  Cicero  and  Quintilian.     His  mouth, 
his  eyes,  and  his  whole  features,  suggest  the  idea  of  a 
soldier  or  a  butcher,  rather  than  a  theologian.     His 
memory  is  excellent ;  and  were  his  intellect  equal  to  it, 
he  would  be  faultless.     But  he  is  slow  of  comprehen- 
'—    -     '-      -         — ^-^       sion,  and  wants  judgment, 
without  which  all  other  gifts 
.ire  useless.     Hence,  when 
he    debates,    he    piles    up, 
without  selection  or  discern- 
ment,   passages    from    the 
Bible,  quotations  from  the 
Fathers,  and  arguments  of 
'•:,j   all   descriptions.      His   as- 
v!   surance,  moreover,   is    un- 
_\    Ijounded.     AVhen  he  finds 
himself  in  a  difficulty,  he 
darts   off  from  the  matter 
in  hand,  and  pounces  upon 
mother;    sometimes,    even 
he  adopts  the  view  of  his 
antagonist,    and,    changing 
the    form     of     expression, 
most    dexterously    charges 
him  with  the  very  absurd- 
ity which  he  himself  was 
defending." 

Such,  according  to  Moscl- 
lanus,  were  the  men  who 
drew  the  eyes  of  the  crowds  who  were  then  thronging 
into  the  great  hall  of  Pleisseuburg. 

The  discussion  was  opened  by  Eck  and  Carlstadt. 
Eck,  for  some  moments,  fixed  his  eyes  on  the  books 
which  lay  on  the  little  table  in  front  of  his  opponent's 
desk,  and  seemed  to  give  him  uneasiness, — they  were 
the  Bible  and  tlie  Fatliers.  "  I  decline  the  discussion," 
exclaimed  he  suddenly,  "if  you  are  allowed  to  bring 
books  with  you."  A  theologian  have  recourse  to  his 
books  in  discussion!  The  astonishment  of  Dr.  Eck 
was  still  more  astonishing.  "  It  is  merely  a  fig-leaf 
which  this  Adam  is  employing  to  hide  his  shame,"  said 
Luther.  "  Did  Augustine  consult  no  books  in  com- 
bating the  Manichees  ?"  No  matter ! — Eck's  partizans 
made  a  great  noise.  Carlstadt  remonstrated.  "The 
man  is  altogether  devoid  of  memory,"  said  Eck.  At 
last  it  was  decided,  agreeably  to  the  desire  of  the  chan- 
cellor of  Ingolstadt,  that  each  disputant  should  have 
the  use  only  of  his  memory  and  his  tongue.  "  Thus, 
then,"  said  several,  "  the  object  in  this  debate  will  not 
be  to  discover  truth,  but  to  shew  off  the  eloquence  and 
memory  of  the  disputants." 

The  discussion  lasted  seventeen  days;  but  as  it  is 
impossible  to  give  the  whole  of  it,  we  must,  as  a  histo- 
rian says,  imitate  painters  who,  in  representing  a  battle, 


FREE  WILL :  ITS  TRUE  NATURE. 


141 


place  the  most  distinguished  exploits  in  front,  and  leave 
the  others  in  the  background. 

The  subject  of  discussion  between  Eck  and  Carlstadt 
was  important.  "  Before  conversion,"  said  Carlstadt, 
'■  the  will  of  man  is  incapable  of  doing  good ;  every 
good  work  conies  entirely  and  exclusively  from  God, 
who  gives  first  the  will  to  do,  and  afterwards  the 
ability  to  perform."  This  truth  is  proclaimed  by  the 
Scriptures,  which  say:  It  is  God  which  u-orkcth  in  you 
both  to  will  and  to  do  of  His  r/ood  pleasure;  and  by 
Augustine,  who,  in  disputing  with  the  Pelagians, 
delivers  it  in  almost  the  very  same  terms.  l>\-ery 
work  in  which  there  is  neither  love  to  God  nor  obedi- 
ence to  His  will,  is.  in  His  sight,  devoid  of  the  only 
quality  which  could  render  it  truly  good,  even  should 
it  be,  in  other  respects,  dictated  by  the  most  honourable 
human  motives.  Now,  there  is  in  man  a  natural 
enmity  to  God — an  enmity  which  he  is  utterly  unable 
to  suppress.  He  has  not  the  power  to  do  so  ;  he  even 
wants  the  will.  If  ever,  therefore,  it  is  to  be  sup- 
pressed, it  must  be  by  the  i)ower  of  God. 

This  is  the  doctrine  of  fiee  will,  so  much  declaimed 
against  in  the  world,  and  jet  so  simple.     It  had  been 


again  to  act."  To  use  one  of  their  favourite  com- 
parisons— "  the  bird  whose  legs  are  tied  does  not  there- 
by lose  either  its  powers,  or  forget  the  art  of  flying, 
though  it  must  be  loosed  by  some  other  hand  before  it 
can  be  able  again  to  use  its  wings."  "  The  same,"  said 
they,  "  is  the  case  with  man." 

Such  was  the  question  discussed  between  Eck  and 
Carlstadt.  At  first,  Eck  seemed  to  deny  Carlstadt's 
propositions  out  and  out;  but  feeling  the  difficulty  of 
maintaining  his  ground,  said:  "I  grant  that  the  will 
has  not  power  to  do  a  good  work,  but  receives  it  from 
God."  "Confess,  then,"  rejoined  Carlstadt,  over- 
joyed at  obtaining  such  a  concession,  "  that  every  good 
work  comes  entirely  from  God."  "  Every  good  work 
comes  indeed  from  God,"  replied  the  schoolman 
subtlely,  "but  not  entirely."  "There,"  exclaimed 
Melancthon,  "goes  i  disco\ cry  well  worthy  of  theo- 
logical science  '  An  ipple,  idded  1  ck,  '  is  all 
produced  bj  the  inn    1  ut   not    dt   _  tli  i     in  1  iMthout 


PALACE    OF   TH 

dodiiiieof  the  Church.  But  the  schoolmen 
laiiied  it  in  a  manner  which  caused  it  to  be  niis- 
cistiiod.  No  doubt,  (said  they,)  the  natural  will 
of  man  cannot  do  anything  which  is  truly  pleasing  to 
Gu<l ;  but  it  can  do  much  to  render  man  more  capable 
and  more  worthy  of  receiving  divine  grace.  These  pre- 
paratives they  terniod  merit  of  congruity;  "because," 
as  St.  Thomas  expressed  it,  "  it  is  congruous  for  God 
to  bestow  peculiar  favour  on  those  who  make  a 
good  use  of  their  will."  In  regard,  again,  to  the  con- 
version which  man  must  undergo,  it  is  no  doubt  true 
that,  according  to  the  schoolmen,  the  grace  of  God 
behoved  to  accomplish  it ;  but  still  without  excluding 
his  natural  powers.  "  These  powers,"  said  they,  "  have 
not  been  annihilated  by  sin — sin  only  puts  an  obstacle 
in  the  way  of  their  development ;  but  as  soon  as  this 
obstacle  is  removed,  (and  this,  according  to  them,  was 
what  the  grace  of  God  had  to  do,"*  these  powers  begin 


the  cc    )pii  itnn    1  tli    ti  \.    in    Il\  n    iiiiiic\ei 

thought  ot  m  nut  lining  th  it  an    ipplc  is    ill  produced 
by  the  ^uii 

"  Very  well,"  said  his  opponents,  going  still  deeper 
into  this  delicate  question,  so  important  in  philosophy 
and  in  religion,  "  let  us  consider  how  God  acts  on  man, 
and  how  man  conducts  himself  when  so  acted  on." 
"  I  acknowledge,"  said  Eck,  "  that  in  conversion  the 
first  impulse  comes  from  God,  and  that  the  human  will 
is  entirely  passive."  So  far  the  disputants  were  agreed. 
"  I  acknowledge,"  said  Carlstadt,  on  his  part,  "  that 
after  this  first  action  on  the  part  of  God,  something 
must  come  from  man,  something  which  St.  Paul  calls 
the  ivill,  and  which  the  Fathers  designate  by  consent." 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


Here  again  both  parties  were  agreed :  but  at  this  point 
the  separation  began.  "This  consent  of  man,"  said 
Eck,  "  comes  partly  from  our  natural  will,  and  partly 
from  the  grace  of  God." — "  No,"  said  Carlstadt,  "  this 
will  in  man  is  entirely  created  by  God."  Hereupon 
Eck  began  to  express  astonishment  and  indignation  at 
words  so  well  fitted  to  impress  man  with  a  sense  of  his 
utter  nothingness.  "  Your  doctrine,"  exclaims  he, 
"  makes  man  a  stone  or  a  block,  incapable  of  any  coun- 
ter action.  .  .  ." — "What!"  replied  the  reformers, 
"  does  not  the  faculty  of  receiving  the  powers  which 
God  produces  in  him,  (a  faculty  which  we  admit  that 
he  possesses,)  sufficiently  distinguish  him  from  a  stone 
and  a  block?"  "But,"  resumed  their  antagonist, 
"  by  denying  man  all  natural  power,  you  contradict 
experience." — "  We  deny  not,"  was  the  reply,  "  that 
man  possesses  certain  powers,  and  has  in  him  a  faculty 
of  reflecting,  meditating,  and  choosing.  We  only  con- 
sider these  powers  and  faculties  as  mere  instruments, 
incapable  of  doing  anything  that  is  good,  until  the 
hand  of  God  sets  them  in  motion.  They  are  like  the 
saw  in  the  hands  of  the  sawyer." 

The  great  question  of  liberty  was  here  debated ;  and 
it  was  easy  to  demonstrate  that  the  doctrine  of  the 
reformers  did  not  divest  man  of  the  liberty  of  a  moral 
agent,  or  make  him  a  passive  machine.  The  liberty  of 
a  moral  agent  consists  in  the  power  of  acting  conform- 
ably to  his  choice.  Every  action  done  without  external 
constraint,  and  in  consequence  of  the  determination 
of  the  mind  itself,  is  a  free  action.  The  mind  is  deter- 
mined by  motives ;  but  we  constantly  see  that  the 
same  motives  act  differently  on  different  minds.  Many 
do  not  act  conformably  to  the  motives  which  their 
judgment  approves.  This  inefiiciency  of  motives  is 
attributable  to  the  obstacles  which  they  meet  with  in 
the  corruption  of  the  understanding  and  the  heart. 
Now,  God,  by  giving  a  new  heart  and  a  new  spirit, 
removes  those  obstacles,  and  thereby,  so  far  from 
depriving  man  of  freedom,  on  the  contrary  removes 
what  prevented  him  from  acting  freely,  and  in  obe- 
dience to  the  dictates  of  his  conscience.  In  the  lan- 
guage of  the  Gospel,  it  renders  him  "  free  indeed," 
(John  viii.  36.) 

A  slight  incident  for  a  short  time  interrupted  the 
debate.  Carlstadt  (this  is  Eck's  account)  had  prepared 
different  heads  of  argument ;  and,  as  is  done  by  many 
of  the  orators  of  our  day,  read  what  he  had  written. 
Eck  saw  in  this  ouly  a  school-boy's  tactics,  and  ob- 
jected. Carlstadt,  embarrassed,  and  fearing  he  might 
be  taken  at  a  disadvantage  if  deprived  of  his  note- 
book, insisted  on  retaining  it.  "Ah!"  said  the  scho- 
lastic doctor,  quite  proud  of  the  advantage  which  he 
thought  he  had  over  him,  "  his  memory  is  shorter  than 
mine."  Tiie  point  having  been  submitted  to  arbiters,  it 
was  decided  that  quotations  from  the  Fathers  might 
be  read;  but  that  in  other  respects  the  discussion 
should  be  extempore. 

This  first  part  of  the  discussion  often  met  with  inter- 
ruption from  the  audience.  They  ruffed  and  screamed. 
Any  proposition  offensive  to  the  ears  of  the  majority 
instantly  aroused  their  clamour,  and  then,  as  in  our 
day,  it  was  necessary  to  call  to  order.  The  disputants 
also  occasionally  allowed  themselves  to  be  carried 
away  in  the  heat  of  discussion. 


Melancthon  sat  near  Luther,  and  attracted  almost 
equal  attention.  He  was  of  short  stature,  and  would 
scarcely  have  been  thought  more  than  eighteen. 
Luther,  who  was  a  whole  head  taller,  seemed  to  be 
united  to  him  by  the  closest  friendship  ;  they  came  in, 
went  out,  and  walked  together.  "  To  look  at  Melanc- 
thon," says  a  Swiss  theologian,'  who  studied  at  Wit- 
temberg,  "  oue  would  think  him  a  mere  boy ;  but  iu 
judgment,  learning,  and  talent,  he  is  a  giant.  It  is 
difficult  to  comprehend  how  so  much  wisdom  and  genius 
can  be  contained  within  so  puny  a  body."  Between 
the  sittings,  Melancthon  conferred  with  Carlstadt  and 
Luther.  He  assisted  them  iu  preparing  for  the  debate, 
and  suggested  arguments  drawn  from  the  stores  of  his 
vast  erudition ;  but  during  the  discussion  he  remained 
quietly  seated  among  the  spectators,  giving  close  atten- 
tion to  everything  that  was  said  by  the  theologians. 
Occasionally,  however,  he  came  to  the  aid  of  Carlstadt. 
When  the  latter  was  on  the  point  of  giving  way  under 
the  powerful  declamation  of  the  chancellor  of  Ingol- 
stadt,  the  young  professor  whispered  a  word  in  his  ear, 
or  slipt  a  paper  to  him  on  which  he  had  noted  down 
the  answer.  Eck  on  one  occasion  perceived  this,  and 
indignant  that  this  grammarian,  as  he  called  him, 
should  presume  to  intermeddle  with  the  discussion, 
tiu'ned  towai'ds  him,  and  haughtily  said :  "Be  silent, 
Philip ;  keep  to  your  own  studies,  and  give  me  no  dis- 
turbance." Perhaps  Eck  had  already  a  presentiment 
of  the  formidable  adversary  he  was  afterwards  to  en- 
counter in  this  young  man.  Luther  was  offended  at 
the  rude  insult  given  to  his  friend  :  "  The  judgment  of 
Philip,"  said  he,  "  weighs  more  with  me  than  that  of 
a  thousand  Doctor  Ecks." 

The  calm  Melancthon  easily  discerned  the  weak 
points  of  this  discussion.  "  We  can  only  be  surprised," 
says  he,  with  the  wisdom  and  grace  conspicuous  in  all 
his  words,  "  when  we  think  of  the  violence  which  was 
brought  to  the  discussion  of  such  subjects.  How  could 
any  advantage  be  derived  from  it?  The  Spirit  of 
God  loves  retreat  and  silence :  there  dwell  those  whose 
hearts  He  penetrates.  The  bride  of  Christ  does  not 
stand  in  streets  and  public  places,  but  conducts  the 
Bridegroom  into  her  mother's  house." 

Both  parties  claimed  the  victory.  Eck  employed  all 
his  address  to  make  it  appear  that  he  had  gained  it. 
As  the  points  of  divergence  almost  met,  he  often  ex- 
claimed that  he  had  brought  over  his  opponent  to  his 
opinion ;  or  like  a  new  Proteus,  as  Luther  calls  him, 
turning  suddenly  round,  he  stated  Carlstadt's  own 
opinion  in  different  words,  and  then  asked,  with  an  air 
of  triumph,  if  he  did  not  feel  constrained  to  yield. 
The  unskilful,  who  were  unable  to  detect  the  sophist's 
manoeuvre,  applauded  and  triumphed  with  him.  .  .  ■ 
In  several  respects  the  match  was  unequal.  Carlstadt 
was  slow,  and  sometimes  left  his  opponent's  objections 
unanswered  till  next  day.  Eck,  on  the  contrary,  was 
master  of  his  subject,  and  could  lay  his  hand  at  once 
on  whatever  he  required.  He  came  forward  with  a 
haughty  air,  mounted  his  desk  with  a  firm-  step,  and 
when  there,  stamped  with  his  foot,  moved  backwards 
and  forwards,  made  the  ceiling  ring  with  his  powerful 
voice,  gave  some  sort  of  reply  to  every  argument,  and 
astonished  the  audience  with  his  memory  and  adroit- 

1  John  Kcssler,  atterwaids  rcfoniier  of  St.  Gall. 


LUTHER'S  SERMON  BEFORE  DUKE  GEORGE. 


143 


ucss.  Still  Eck,  without  perceiving  it,  conceded  much 
more  in  the  discussion  than  ho  Imd  intended.  His 
jjiirtizans  shouted  and  laughed  at  each  of  his  turns ; 
"  but,"  says  Luther,  "  I  strongly  suspect  they  only 
made  a  shew  of  laughing,  and  were  exceedingly  vexed 
at  heart  when  they  saw  their  chief,  who  had  commenced 
with  so  much  bravado,  quit  his  standard,  abandon  his 
army,  and  become  a  shameless  deserter." 

Three  or  four  days  after  the  discussion  had  com- 
menced, it  was  interrupted  by  the  feast  of  St.  Peter 
and  St.  Paul. 

The  Duke  of  Pomerania  requested  Luther  to  preach 
before  him,  on  the  occasion,  iu  his  chapel.  Luther 
gladly  comi)lied.  The  chapel  was  soon  filled,  and 
crowds  still  arriving,  it  became  necessary  to  remove 
to  the  great  hall  of  the  castle,  where  the  discussion 
was  held.  Luther  preached  from  the  text  of  the  day, 
on  the  grace  of  God,  and  the  power  of  Peter;  and 
gave  a  popular  exposition  of  the  views  which  he  was 
wont  to  maintain  before  a  learned  audience.  Chris- 
tianity causes  the  light  of  truth  to  penetrate  alike  into 
the  highest  and  the  humblest  intellects,  and  is  in  this 
way  distinguished  from  all  other  religions,  and  from 
all  philosophical  systems.  The  theologians  of  Leipsic, 
who  had  been  present  at  the  sermon,  hastened  to 
acquaint  Eck  with  the  expressions  which  had  offended 
them.  "  These  subtle  erroi-s,"  exclaimed  they,  "  must 
be  answered — must  be  publicly  refuted."  This  was  just 
what  Eck  wished.  AH  the  churches  were  open  to 
him  ;  and  on  four  successive  occasions  he  mounted  the 
pulpit  to  declaim  against  Luther  and  his  sermon. 
Luther's  friends  were  indignant,  and  demanded  that 
the  theologian  of  AVittemberg  should  he  heard  in  his 
turn.  But  they  demanded  in  vain.  The  pulpits  were 
open  to  the  enemies  of  ev.angelical  truth  ;  but  shut 
against  those  who  proclaimed  it.  "I  kept  silence," 
says  Luther,  "  and  was  obliged  to  submit  to  attacks, 
insults,  and  calumnies,  without  being  able  to  exculpate 
and  defend  myself." 

The  ecclesiastics  were  not  the  only  persons  who 
displayed  hostility  to  the  evangelical  doctrine:  the 
citizens  of  Leipsic  were,  in  this  respect,  of  one  mind 
with  their  clergy,  and  yielded  themselves  up  with  blind 
fanaticism  to  the  falsehoods  and  animosities  which 
were  industriously  propagated.  The  principal  inhabi- 
tants did  not  visit  either  Luther  oi  Carlstadt.  They 
left  them  unnoticed  when  they  met  them  in  the  street, 
and  tried  to  prejudice  the  duke  against  them.  On  the 
other  hand,  they  visited  and  gave  daily  entertainments 
to  the  doctor  of  Ingolstadt,  who  enjoyed  their  good 
cheer,  and  learnedly  discussed  the  compai-ative  merits 
of  Saxony  and  Bavarian  beer.  His  manners,  some- 
what free,  did  not  indicate  a  very  strict  morality.  The 
only  thing  offered  to  Luther  was  the  customary  pre- 
sent of  wine  to  the  disputants.  Moreover,  even  those 
who  wished  him  well  were  anxious  that  others  should 
not  know  it ;  several  Nicodemites  visited  him  by  night 
or  in  secret.  There  were  only  two  who  did  themselves 
honour  by  publicly  decKaring  their  friendship.  These 
were  Dr.  Auerbach,  whom  we  have  already  met  at 
Augsburg,  and  Dr.  Pistor,  junior. 

The  greatest  excitement  prevailed  in  the  town.  The 
two  parties  formed,  as  it  were,  two  hostile  camps,  and 
sometimes  came  to  blows.     In  taverns,  frequent  quar- 


rels took  place  between  the  students  of  Leipsic  and 
"Wittemberg.  It  was  openly  averred,  even  at  meetings 
of  the  clergy,  that  Luther  carried  about  with  him  a 
devil,  confined  in  a  little  box.  "  Whether  the  devil  is 
in  a  box,  or  only  under  his  frock,"  said  Eck,  mali- 
ciously, "  I  know  not ;  but  most  assuredly  he  is  in  one 
or  other  of  them." 

During  the  discussion,  several  doctors  of  both  parties 
lodged  with  the  printer  Ilerbipolis ;  and  the  dispute 
ran  so  high,  that  the  host  was  obliged  to  station  a 
town-officer  at  the  top  of  the  table  with  a  halbert  to 
keep  the  peace,  and  prevent  the  guests  from  coming  to 
blows.  One  day,  Baumgartner,  a  vender  of  indul- 
gences, had  a  scuffle  with  a  gentleman,  a  friend  of 
Luther,  and  fell  into  such  a  rage  that  he  dropt  down 
dead.  Eroschel,  who  gives  the  account,  says  :  "  I  was 
one  of  those  who  carried  him  to  the  grave."  The 
general  agitation  which  prevailed  was  thus  manifested. 
Then,  as  now,  the  discourses  of  the  desk  were  re- 
echoed iu  the  drawing-room  and  in  the  streets. 

Duke  George,  though  very  decidedly  in  favour  of 
Eck,  did  not  betray  so  much  passion  as  his  subjects. 
He  invited  Eck,  Luther,  and  Carlstadt,  to  dine  together 
with  him.  He  even  asked  Luther  to  pay  him  a  visit 
in  private  ;  but  soon  shewed  how  strongly  he  was 
prejudiced  against  him.  "By  your  book  on  the  Lord's 
Prayer,"  said  the  duke  to  him,  with  bitterness,  "  you 
have  led  many  consciences  astray.  There  are  persons 
who  complain  of  not  having  been  able  to  say  one  pater 
for  more  than  four  days." 


CHAPTER  V. 

Hierarchy  and  Rationalism— Two  Peasants"  Sons— Eck  and  Luther  begin— 
The  Head  of  the  Church — The  Primacy  of  Rome — Equality  of  Bishops 
— Peter  the  Foundation — Christ  tlic  Foundation — Eclc  insinuates  that 
Lutlier  is  a  Hussite— Lutlier  on  the  doctrine  of  Huss— Agitation  in  the 
audience— Pleasantry  of  Dr.  Eck— The  Word  alone— The  Court  Fool- 
Luther  at  Mas5— Saying  of  the  Duke— Purgatory— Close  of  the  Discussion. 

On  the  4th  of  July  the  debate  between  Eck  and  Luther 
commenced.  Everything  announced  that  it  would  be 
keener,  more  decisive,  and  more  interesting  than  that 
which  had  just  been  conclnded,  and  during  which  the 
audience  had  gradually  thinned  away.  The  two  an- 
tagonists descended  into  the  arena,  resolved  not  to  lay 
down  their  arras  till  victory  should  declare  in  favour  of 
one  of  them.  All  w-ere  in  eager  expectation,  for  the 
subject  to  be  debated  was  the  primacy  of  the  pope. 
Christianity  has  two  great  adversaries — hierarchism 
and  rationalism.  Katioualism,  as  applied  to  the  doc- 
trine of  man's  natural  powers,  had  been  attacked  by 
the  Eeformation  in  the  former  branch  of  the  Leipsic 
discussion.  Hierarchism,  viewed  with  reference  to 
■what  is  at  once  its  apex  and  its  base, — \iz.,  the  doc- 
trine of  the  pope, — was  now  to  be  considered.  On  the 
one  side  appeared  Eck,  boasting  of  the  debates  in  which 
he  had  been  engaged,  as  a  general  boasts  of  his  battles. 
On  the  other  side  stood  Luther,  to  whom  the  contest 
seemed  to  promise  only  persecution  and  obloquy;  but 


HISTORY  or  THE  REFORMATION. 


who  came  forward  with  a  good  conscience,  a  firm  reso- 
lution to  sacrifice  everything  for  the  cause  of  truth, 
and  a  confident  expectation,  founded  on  faith  in  God 
and  the  deliverance  which  He  affords.  New  convic- 
tions had  sunk  deep  into  his  mind, — as  yet  tliey  were 
not  arranged  into  a  system  ;  but  in  the  heat  of  debate 
tliey  flashed  forth  Hive  lightning.  Grave  and  intrepid, 
he  manifested  a  decision  which  set  all  trammels  at 
defiance.  His  features  bore  marks  of  the  storms 
which  had  raged  within  his  soul,  and  of  the  courage 
with  which  he  was  prepared  to  face  new  tempests. 
Two  peasants'  sons — representatives  of  the  two  systems 
which  still  divide  Christendom — were  on  the  eve  of  a 
contest,  the  issue  of  which  would  go  far  to  decide  the 
future  destiny  of  the  State  and  the  Church. 

At  seven  in  the  morning  the  two  antagonists  were 
in  their  desks,  in  the  midst  of  a  numerous  and  attentive 
assembly. 

Luther  rose,  and,  in  the  exercise  of  a  necessary  pre- 
caution, modestly  said : — 

"  In  the  name  of  the  Lord ! — Amen.  I  declare,  that 
the  respect  which  I  feel  for  the  sovereign  pontiff  would 
have  disposed  me  to  avoid  this  discussion,  had  the  ex- 
cellent Dr.  Eck  left  me  any  alternative." 

Eck. — "In  thy  name,  dear  Jesus!  before  I  descend 
into  the  arena,  I  protest  in  your  presence,  mighty 
lords,  that  whatever  I  shall  say  is  under  correction  of 
the  first  of  all  sees,  and  the  master  who  occupies  it." 

After  a  momentary  pause,  Eck  continued  : — "  There 
is  in  the  Church  of  God  a  primacy  derived  from  Jesus 
Christ  himself.  The  Church  militant  is  an  image  of 
the  Church  triumphant.  But  the  latter  is  a  monarchical 
hierarchy,  rising  step  by  step  up  to  the  sole  head,  who 
is  God ;  and,  accordingly,  Christ  has  established  the 
same  gradation  upon  earth.  "What  kind  of  monster 
should  the  Church  be  if  she  were  without  a 
head ! "     .     .     . 

Luther,  (turniiiff  toirnnh  the  audience.) — "The  doctor 
is  correct  in  saying  that  the  universal  Church  must 
have  a  head.  If  there  is  any  one  here  who  maintains 
the  contrary,  let  him  stand  up ! — the  remark  does  not 
at  all  apply  to  me." 

Eck. — "  If  the  Church  militant  has  never  been  with- 
out a  monarch,  I  should  like  to  know  who  that  monarch 
is,  if  he  is  not  the  pontiff  of  Eome?" 

Lutlier. — "Tho  head  of  the  Church  militant  is  not  a 
man,  but  Jesus  Clirist  himself.  This  I  believe  on  the 
testimony  of  God.  Christ  (says  the  Scripture)  must 
reiffii  until  He  has  put  all  His  enemies  under  His  feet. 
AYe  cannot,  therefore,  listen  to  those  who  would  con- 
fine Christ  to  the  Church  triumphant  in  heaven.  His 
reign  is  a  reign  of  faith.  We  cannot  see  our  Head, 
and  yet  we  have  Him." 

Eck,  not  admitting  that  he  was  beaten,  had  recourse 
to  other  arguments,  and  resumed :  "  According  to  St. 
Cyprian,  sacerdotal  unity  is  derived  from  Rome." 

Luther. — "  Granted  in  regard  to  the  Western  Church. 
But  is  not  the  Church  of  Rome  herself  a  descendant  of 
the  Church  of  Jerusalem,  which  is  properly  the  mother 
and  nurse  of  all  the  churches?" 

Eck. — "  St.  Jerome  declares,  that  unless  an  extraor- 
dinary power,  superior  to  all  other  powers,  is  given  to 
the  pope,  churches  will  have  as  many  schisms  as 
pontiffs." 


Luther. — "  Granted  :  that  is  to  say,  this  power  might, 
by  human  authority,  be  attributed  to  the  Roman  pon- 
tiff, provided  all  the  faithful  consent  to  it.  And,  in 
like  manner,  I,  for  my  part,  deny  not  that  if  all  the 
faithful  throughout  the  world  were  to  concur  in 
acknowledging  the  bishop,  either  of  Rome,  or  of  Paris, 
or  of  Magdebourg,  as  prime  and  sovereign  pontiff,  it 
would  be  necessary  to  acknowledge  him  as  such  in 
deference  to  this  universal  consent  of  the  Church. 
The  thing,  however,  never  has  been,  and  never  will  be 
seen.  Even  in  our  own  day  does  not  the  Greek  Church 
refuse  her  assent  to  Rome!" 

At  this  period  Luther  was  quite  ready  to  acknow- 
ledge the  pope  as  first  magistrate  of  the  Church,  elected 
by  her  own  free  choice ;  but  he  denied  that  he  was  of 
Divine  institution.  At  a  later  period,  he  denied  that 
subjection  was  due  to  him  in  any  respect ;  and  this 
denial  he  owed  to  the  discussion  at  Leipsic.  Eck  had 
come  upon  ground  which  he  did  not  know  so  thoroughly 
as  Luther.  The  latter,  it  is  true,  could  not  maintain 
his  theses,  that  the  papacy  had  not  been  in  existence 
for  more  than  four  centuries.  Eck  quoted  iiuthorities 
of  an  earlier  date ;  and  these  Luther  was  unable  to 
obviate,  criticism  not  having  yet  attacked  th'j  spurious 
decretals.  But  the  nearer  the  discussion  was  brought 
to  primitive  times,  the  more  Luther's  strength  increased. 
Eck  appealed  to  the  Fathers.  Luther  quoted  the 
Fathers  in  reply ;  and  all  the  hearers  were  struck  with 
his  superiority  to  his  rival. 

"  That  my  exposition,"  said  he,  "is  that  of  St.  Jerome, 
I  prove  by  St.  Jerome's  own  Epistle  to  Evagrius,  in 
which  he  says :  '  Every  bishop,  whether  at  Rome,  or 
Eugubium,  or  Constantinople,  or  Rhegiura,  or  Alex- 
andria, or  Tanis,  has  the  same  merit,  and  the  same 
priesthood.  The  power  of  riches,  and  the  humiliation 
of  poverty,  constitute  the  only  precedence  or  inferiority 
among  bishops.'" 

From  the  writings  of  the  Fathers,  Luther  passed  to 
the  decrees  of  councils,  which  regard  the  bishop  of 
Rome  as  only  a  first  among  equals. 

"  AVe  read,"  says  he,  "  in  the  decree  of  the  Council 
of  Africa :  '  The  bishop  of  the  first  see  must  not  be 
called  either  prince  of  the  pontiffs,  or  sovereign  pontiff, 
or  any  other  similar  name ;  but  only  bishop  of  the  first 
see.'  Were  the  supremacy  of  the  bishop  of  Rome  of 
Divine  institution,  would  not  these  words  be  heretical?" 
Eck  replied  by  one  of  those  subtle  distinctions  which 
were  so  familiar  to  him. 

"  The  bishop  of  Rome,  if  you  will  so  have  it,  is  not 
universal  bishop,  but  bishop  of  the  universal  Churcli." 
Luther. — "  I  am  quite  willing  to  leave  this  reply  un- 
answered :  let  our  hearers  judge  for  themselves." 

"Assuredly,"  said  he,  afterwards,  "the  gloss  is 
worthy  of  a  theologian,  and  well  fitted  to  satisfy  a 
disputant  thirsting  for  glory.  My  expensive  sojourn 
in  Leipsic  has  not  been  for  nothing,  since  I  have 
learned  that  the  pope,  though  not  indeed  the  universal 
bishop,  is  the  bishop  of  the  universal  Church." 

Eck. — "Very  well,  I  come  to  the  essential  point. 
The  venerable  doctor  calls  upon  me  to  prove  that  the 
primacy  of  the  Church  of  Rome  is  of  Divine  institution. 
I  prove  it  by  these  words  of  Christ :  Tliou  art  Peter, 
and  on  this  rock  I  will  build  my  Church.  St.  Augustine, 
in  one  of  his  epistles,  has  thus  expounded  the  passage : 


THE  FOUNDATION-STONE. 


'  Tliou  art  Peter,  and  upon  this  rock — tliat  is  to  say, 
on  this  Peter — I  will  build  my  Church.'  It  is  true, 
Augustine  has  elsewhere  said,  that  by  this  rock  must 
be  understood  Christ  himself ;  but  he  never  retracted 
his  former  exposition." 

Luther. — '•  If  the  reverend  doctor  would  attack  me, 
he  should  first  reconcile  these  contraiy  statements  of 
Au;rustine.  It  is  undeniable  that  St.  Augustine  has, 
again  and  again,  said  that  the  rock  was  Chrst;  and  he 
niaj',  perhaps,  have  once  said  that  it  was  Peter  himself. 
]5ut  even  should  St.  Augustine  and  all  the  Fathers  say 
that  the  apostle  is  the  rock  of  which  Christ  speaks,  I 
would  combat  their  view  on  the  authority  of  an  apostle, 
— in  other  words.  Divine  authority;  for  it  is  written: 
i\o  other  fuiiiidatinH  am  any  nuin  lay  than  that  is  laid, 
namely,  Jesus  Christ,  Peter  himself  calls  Christ  the 
chief  and  corner-stone,  on  which  ire  arc  built  up  a  spiritual 
house." 

Ed;. — '■!  am  astonished  at  the  humility  and  mo- 
desty with  which  the  reverend  doctor  undertakes  single- 
handed  to  combat  so  many  distinguished  Fathers,  and 
to  know  better  than  sovereign  pontiffs,  councils,  doc- 
tors, and  universities.  .  .  .  It  would,  certainly,  be 
astonishing  that  (lod  should  have  concealed  the  truth 
from  SI)  nuuiy  saints  and  martyrs  .  .  .  and  not 
revealed  it  \nitil  the  advent  of  the  reverend  father!" 

Luther. — "  The  Fathers  are  not  against  me.  The 
distinguished  doctors,  St.  Augustine  and  St.  Ambrose, 
spoak  as  1  do.  Super  isto  articulo  Jidei,  fundata  est 
Kcclesia,  says  St.  Ambrose,  when  explaining  what 
must  be  understood  by  the  rock  on  which  the  Church 
is  built.  Let  my  opponent,  then,  bridle  his  tongue. 
To  express  himself  as  he  does,  is  to  stir  up  strife,  not 
to  discuss  like  a  true  doctor." 

Eck  had  not  expected  that  his  opponent  would 
possess  so  much  knowledge  of  the  subject,  and  be  able 
to  disentangle  himself  from  the  labyrinth  in  which  he 
tried  to  bewilder  him.  "The  reverend  doctor,"  said 
he,  "  has  entered  the  lists  after  carefully  studying  his 
subject.  Your  highnesses  will  excuse  me  for  not  pre- 
senting them  with  such  exact  researches.  I  came  to 
debate,  and  not  to  make  a  book."  Eck  was  astonished, 
but  not  beaten.  Having  no  more  arguments  to  give, 
he  had  recourse  to  a  mean  and  despicable  artifice, 
which,  if  it  did  not  vanquish  his  opponent,  would  at 
least  subject  him  to  great  embarrassment.  If  the 
charge  of  being  a  Bohemian,  a  heretic,  a  Hussite, 
fastens  upon  Luther,  he  is  vanquished — for  the  Bohe- 
mians were  detested  in  the  Chiuxh.  The  scene  of 
discussion  was  not  far  from  the  frontiers  of  Bohemia. 
Saxony,  which,  immediately  after  the  condemnation  of 
John  IIuss  by  the  Council  of'  Constance,  had  been 
subjected  to  all  the  horrors  of  a  long  and  ruinous  war, 
was  proud  of  the  resistance  which  she  had  then  given 
to  the  Hussites.  The  university  of  Leipsic  had  been 
founded  to  oppose  their  tenets ;  and  the  discussion  was 
in  presence  of  nobles,  princes,  and  citizens,  whose 
fathers  had  fallen  in  that  celebrated  struggle.  To 
make  out  that  Luther  was  at  one  with  IIuss,  was 
almost  like  giving  him  the  finishing  blow ;  and  this 
w.as  the  stratagem  to  which  tlie  doctor  of  Ingolstadt 
had  recourse.  "  From  primitive  times  downwards," 
says  he,  "  it  was  acknowledged  by  all  good  Christians 
that  the  Church  of  Kome  holds  its  primacy  of  Jesus 


Christ  himself,  and  not  of  man.  I  must  confess,  how- 
ever, that  the  Bohemians,  while  obstinately  defending 
their  errors,  attacked  this  doctrine.  The  venerable 
father  must  pardon  me  if  I  am  an  enemy  of  the  Bohe- 
mians, because  they  are  the  enemies  of  the  Church,  and 
if  tlie  present  discussion  has  reminded  me  of  these 
heretics;  for,  .  .  .  according  to  my  weak  judgment, 
.  .  .  the  conclusions  to  which  the  doctor  has  come, 
are  all  in  favour  of  their  errors.  It  is  even  aflirined 
that  the  Hussites  loudly  boast  of  this." 

Eck  had  calculated  well.  All  his  partizans  received 
the  insinuation  with  acclamation,  and  an  expression  of 
applause  was  general  throughout  the  audience.  "These 
slanders,"  said  the  reformer  at  a  later  period,  "  tickled 
their  fancy  much  more  agreeably  than  the  discussion 
itself." 

Luther. — "I  love  not  a  schism,  and  I  never  shall. 
Since  the  Bohemians,  of  their  own  authority,  separate 
from  our  unity,  they  do  wrong,  even  were  Divine 
authority  decisive  in  favour  of  their  doctrine ;  for  at 
the  head  of  all  Divine  authority  is  charity  and  the 
unity  of  the  Spirit. 

It  was  at  the  morning  sitting,  on  the  otii  July,  that 
Luther  thus  expressed  himself.  Shortly  after,  the 
meeting  adjourned  for  dinner.  Luther  felt  uneasy. 
Had  he  not  gone  too  far  in  thus  condemning  the 
Christians  of  Bohemia?  Have  they  not  maintained 
the  doctrine  which  Luther  is  maintaining  at  this  hour  1 
He  sees  all  the  difficulty  of  the  stop  before  him.  Will 
he  declare  against  the  council  which  condemned  John 
Huss,  or  will  he  abjure  the  grand  idea  of  an  universal 
Christian  Church, — an  idea  deeply  imprinted  on  his 
mind?  Eesolute  Luther  hesitated  not.  "I  must  do 
my  duty,  come  what  may."  Accordingly,  when  the 
assembly  again  met  at  two  o'clock,  he  rose  and  said 
firmly : — 

"  Certain  of  the  tenets  of  John  Huss  and  the  Bohe- 
mians are  perfectly  orthodox.  This  much  is  certain. 
For  instance,  'that  there  is  only  one  universal  Church;' 
and  again,  '  that  it  is  not  necessary  to  salvation  to 
believe  the  Roman  Church  superior  to  others.'  Whether 
Wickliffe  or  Huss  has  said  so  I  care  not.  ...  It 
is  the  truth." 

This  declaration  of  Luther  produced  an  immense 
sensation  in  the  audience.  The  abhorred  names  of 
Huss  and  Wickliffe,  pronounced  with  eulogium  by  a 
monk  in  the  heart  of  a  Catholic  assembly !  .  .  . 
A  general  murmur  was  heard.  Duke  George  himself 
felt  as  much  alarmed  as  if  he  had  actually  seen  the 
standard  of  civil  war,  which  had  so  long  desolated  the 
states  of  his  maternal  ancestors,  imfurled  in  Saxony. 
Unable  to  conceal  his  emotion,  he  struck  his  thigh, 
shook  his  head,  and  exclaimed,  loud  enough  to  be 
heard  by  the  whole  assembly,  "  Tlie  man  is  mad ! " 
The  whole  audience  was  extremely  excited.  They 
rose  to  their  feet,  and  every  one  kept  talking  to  his 
neighbour.  Those  who  had  fallen  asleep,  awoke. 
Luther's  opponents  expressed  their  exultation,  while 
his  friends  were  greatly  embarrassed.  Several  persons, 
who  till  then  had  listened  to  him  with  pleasure,  began 
to  doubt  his  orthodoxy.  The  impression  produced  upon 
the  mind  of  the  duke  by  this  declaration  was  never 
effaced ;  from  this  moment  he  looked  upon  the  reformer 
with  an  unfavourable  eye,  and  became  his  enemy. 


HISTOKY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


Luther  was  uot  intimidated  by  this  explosiou  of  dis- 
approbation. One  of  his  leading  argiuneuts  was,  that 
tlio  Greeks  had  never  recognized  the  pope,  and  yet  had 
never  been  declared  heretics ;  that  the  Greek  Church 
had  subsisted,  was  subsisting,  and  would  subsist,  with- 
out the  pope,  and  was  a  Church  of  Christ  as  much  as 
the  Church  of  Rome.  Eck,  on  the  contrary,  boldly 
aftirmed  that  the  Christian  Church  and  the  Eomau 
Church  were  one  and  the  same ;  that  the  Greeks  and 
Orientals,  by  abandoning  the  Church,  had  also  aban- 
doned Christian  faith,  and  unquestionably  were  here- 
tics.— "What!"  exclaimed  Luther,  "are  not  Gregory 
of  Nanzianzen,  Basil  tiie  Great,  Epiphauius,  Chrysos- 
tom,  and  uu  immense  number  of  other  Greek  bishops 
in  bliss?  and  yet  they  did  not  believe  that  the  Church 
of  Rome  was  superior  to  other  churches!  .  .  . 
It  is  not  in  the  power  of  the  pontiff  of  Rome  to  make 
new  articles  of  faith.  The  Christian  believer  has  no 
other  authority  tlum  the  Holy  Scriptures — they  alone 
constitute  Jjiniif  I, in:  I  pray  the  illustrious  doctor  to 
admit  tliitt  the  iKuiiift's  of  Rome  were  men,  and  have 
the  goodness  nut  to  make  gods  of  them." 

Eck  had  recourse  to  one  of  those  witticisms  which 
at  small  cost  give  a  little  air  of  triumph  to  the  person 
j     employing  them. 

"The  reverend  father,"  says  he,  "not  being  well 
I     versed  in  the  culinary  art,  makes  an  odd  mixture  of 
I     Greek  saints  and  heretics,  so  that  the  perfume  of  holi- 
I     uess  in  the  one  disguises  the  poison  in  the  other." 
i  Luther,    {hastily   intermplinfj   Eck.) — "The    worthy 

[     doctor  is  impertinent.     I  do  not  hold  that  there  is  any 
!     conununion  between  Christ  and  Belial." 

Luther  had  taken  a  large  step  in  advance.  In  L51G 
and  1517,  he  had  only  attacked  the  discourses  of  the 
venders  of  indulgences,  and  had  respected  the  decrees 
of  the  popes.  At  a  later  period  he  had  rejected  these 
decrees,  but  had  appealed  from  them  to  a  council. 
Now  he  had  discarded  this  last  authority  also,  declar- 
ing that  no  council  can  establish  a  new  article  of  faith, 
or  claim  to  be  infallible.  Thus,  all  human  authorities 
had  successively  fallen  before  him.  The  sand  brought 
along  by  the  rain  and  the  floods  had  disappeared ;  and 
now,  for  building  up  the  ruins  of  the  Lord's  house, 
there  remained  oidy  the  eternal  rock  of  the  AVord  of 
God.  "  Venerable  father ! "  said  Eck  to  him,  "  if  you 
believe  that  a  council,  lawfully  assembled,  can  err,  you 
ai-e  to  me  only  a  heathen  man  and  a  publican." 

Such  were  the  discussions  between  the  two  doctors. 
The  audience  were  attentive,  but  occasionally  began  to 
flag,  and  hence  were  pleased  with  any  incident  which 
enlivened  the  scene  and  gave  them  a  momentary  relaxa- 
tion. The  gravest  matters  have  their  comic  interludes  ; 
and  so  it  was  at  Leipsic. 

Duke  George,  according  to  the  custom  of  the  time, 
liad  a  court  fool,  to  whom  some  wags  said :  "  Luther 
maintains  that  a  court  fool  may  marry.  Eck  maintains 
the  contrary."  On  this  the  fool  took  a  great  dislike  to 
Eck,  and,  every  time  he  came  into  the  hall  with  the 
servants  of  Duke  George,  eyed  the  theologian  with  a 
menacing  air.  The  Chancellor  of  Ingolstadt,  uot  dis- 
daining to  descend  to  pleasantry,  one  day  shut  one  eye, 
(the  fool  was  blind  of  one,)  and  with  the  other  began 
to  squint  at  the  poor  creature,  who,  in  a  perfect  rage, 
let  fly  a  volley  of  abuse.     "  The  whole  assembly,"  says 


Peiffer,  "burst  into  laughter."  This  amusing  incident 
somewhat  relieved  their  minds  from  the  stretch  on 
which  they  had  been  kept. 

At  tlie  same  time,  both  in  the  town  and  in  the 
churches,  scenes  occurred  wliich  shewed  how  much  the 
partizans  of  Rome  were  horrified  at  Luther's  bold  as- 
sertions. An  outcry  was  raised  against  him,  especially 
in  the  convents  attached  to  the  pope. 

Luther  had  one  day  walked  into  the  church  of  the 
Dominicans  before  liigh  mass.  The  only  persons  pre- 
sent were  some  monks,  saying  low  mass  at  the  side 
altars.  No  sooner  was  it  told  in  the  cloister  that  the 
heretic  Luther  was  in  the  church,  than  the  monks  came 
down  in  all  haste,  laid  hold  of  the  ostensoriuin,  and 
carrying  it  into  the  tabernacle,  shut  it  up,  carefully 
watching  it,  lest  the  holy  sacrament  should  be  profaned 
by  the  heretical  eye  of  the  Augustine  of  Wittemberg. 
At  the  same  time,  those  who  were  saying  mass  hastily 
gathered  up  their  articles,  quitted  the  altar,  ran  across 
the  church,  and  took  refuge  in  the  sacristy,  "just," 
says  a  historian,  "  as  if  the  devil  had  been  at  their 
heels." 

The  discussion  became  the  general  subject  of  con- 
versation. Li  the  inns,  at  the  university,  and  the 
court,  every  one  gave  his  opinion.  Duke  George, 
whatever  his  irritation  may  have  been,  did  not  obsti- 
nately shut  his  ears  against  conviction.  One  day, 
when  Eck  and  Luther  were  dining  with  him,  he  inter- 
rupted their  conversation,  saying :  "  Let  the  pope  be 
pope,  whether  by  Diviue  or  human  law  ;  at  all  events, 
he  is  pope."  Luther  was  much  pleased  with  the  ex- 
pression. "  The  prince,"  says  he,  "  never  would  have 
uttered  it  if  my  arguments  had  not  made  some  impres- 
sion on  him." 

The  discussion  on  the  primacy  of  the  pope  had 
lasted  during  five  days.  On  the  8th  of  July,  the 
doctrine  of  piu-gatory  was  discussed,  and  occupied  two 
days.  Luther  was  still  a  believer  in  the  existence  of 
purgatory ;  but  he  denied  that  the  doctrine,  as  held  by 
the  schoolmen  and  his  opponent,  was  taught  either 
in  the  Scriptures  or  by  the  Fathers.  "Our  Doctor 
Eck,"  said  he, — referring  to  the  superficial  knowledge 
of  his  opponent, — "  has  to-day  run  over  the  Holy 
Scriptures  almost  without  touching  them,  just  as  an 
insect  skims  the  water." 

On  the  11th  July,  indulgences  were  discussed.  "It 
was  mere  sport  and  burlesque,"  says  Luther.  "  Indul- 
gences gave  way  at  once,  and  Eck  was  almost  entirely 
of  my  opinion."  Eck  himself  said:  "Had  I  not  dis- 
puted with  Doctor  Martin  on  the  primacy  of  the  pope, 
I  could  almost  agree  with  him." 

The  discussion  afterwards  turned  on  repentance, 
absolution  by  the  priest,  and  satisfactions.  Eck,  as 
usual,  quoted  the  schoolmen,  the  Dominicans,  and  the 
canons  of  the  pope.  Luther  closed  the  discussion  with 
these  words  : — 

"The  reverend  doctor  flees  before  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures as  the  devil  does  before  the  cross.  For  my  part, 
with  all  due  defere'iice  to  the  Fathers,  I  prefer  the 
authority  of  Scripture,  and  recommend  it  to  our 
judges." 

This  closed  the  debate  between  Eck  and  Luther ; 
but  Carlstadt  and  the  doctor  of  Ingolstadt  continued, 
for  two  days  longer,  to  discuss  the  subject  of  human 


ECK'S  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  DISCUSSION. 


merit  and  good  works.  On  tlie  ICth  July,  llie  whole 
proceeding,  after  having  lasted  twenty  days,  was  closed 
by  a  discourse  from  the  rector  of  Leipsie.  Tlie  mo- 
ment the  discourse  was  finished,  tlirilling  music  burst 
forth,  and  the  whole  concluded  with  the  Te  Deum. 

I5ut  during  this  solemn  chant,  the  feelings  of  the 
audience  no  longer  were  what  they  had  been  during 
tlie  Veiii  Sjiiiilus.  The  presentiments  which  several 
persons  had  expressed  seemed  to  be  actually  realized. 
The  blows  struck  by  the  champions  of  the  two  systems 
had  made  a  large  wuuml  in  tlie  papacy. 


CHAPTER  VI 

Jutcrcst  tM  by  the  Laity— Lanier's  Opiuion— Ailiiiisjions  and  Boastings  ot 
Dr.  Eck— Etfccla  ot  tlie  Discussion— Poliander—Celliuius— The  Youn-; 
Prince  of  Anlialt— Tlie  Students  of  Leipsie— Craciger— Calling  of  Mc- 
lancthon — Emaucipatiou  of  Luther. 

These  theological  discussions,  to  which  the  wui-klly- 
miaded  of  the  present  day  would  not  de\otc  a  few 
short  moments,  had  been  attended  and  listened  to  with 
eagerness  during  twenty  days, — laymen,  knights,  and 
princes,  taking  a  deep  interest  in  them  to  the  last. 
Duke  Barnim  and  Duke  George,  seemed  particularly 
attentive,  whereas  some  of  the  theologians  of  Leipsie, 
friends  of  Dr.  Eck.  slept,  as  an  eye-witness  expresses 
it,  "  quite  soundly."  It  was  even  necessary  to  awake 
them  on  the  adjournments,  that  they  might  not  lose 
their  dinner. 

Luther  was  the  first  to  quit  Leipsie,  and  next  Carl- 
stiidt.  Eck  remained  several  days  after  they  were 
gone. 

No  formal  decision  was  given  on  the  points  discussed. 
Every  one  spoke  as  he  thought.  "There  was  at  Leip- 
sie," says  Luther,  "loss  of  time,  and  no  investigation 
of  truth.  During  the  two  years  in  which  we  have 
been  examining  the  doctrines  of  onr  opponents,  we 
have  counted  all  their  bones.  Eck,  on  the  contrary, 
has  hardly  skimmed  the  surface ;  but  he  cried  more  in 
one  hour,  than  we  did  in  two  long  years." 

Eck,  when  writing  privately  to  his  friends,  admitted 
his  defeat  to  a  certain  extent,  though  he  was  at  no 
loss  for  an  explanation.  '•  The  Witterabergers,"  wrote 
he  to  Ilochstraten  on  the  ■24th  July,  '•  defeated  me  on 
several  points — first,  because  they  brought  books  with 
them — secondly,  because  they  took  down  the  debate  in 
writing,  and  examined  it  at  home  at  their  leisure — and 
thirdly,  because  they  were  more  numerous.  Two  doc- 
tors, (Carlstadt  and  Luther) ;  Lange,  vicar  of  the 
Augustines;  two  licentiates,  Amsdorff,  and  a  very  arro- 
gant nephew  of  Eeuchlin,  (Melauc(hon);  three  doctors 
of  law,  and  several  masters  of  arts,  lent  their  assistance 
both  in  public  and  pri\ate ;  whereas  I  stood  alone, 
having  nothing  but  a  good  cause  fur  my  conijianion." 
Eck  forgot  Emser,  and  all  the  doctors  of  Leipsie. 

Though  these  concessions  escaped  Eck  in  familiar 
correspondence,  he  acted  otherwise  iu  public.  The 
doctor  of  Ingolstadt,  and  the  theologians  of  Leipsie, 
made  a  great  noise  with  ivhat  they  called  their  victory. 


They  everywhere  set  false  reports  in  circulation,  while 
all  the  tongues  of  the  party  reiterated  their  expressions 
of  self-complacency.  "Eck  goes  about  triumphing," 
wrote  Luther.  There  were  disputes,  however,  in  the 
camp  of  Rome  in  regard  to  the  laurels. — "  Had  we 
not  come  to  the  help  of  Eck,"  said  the  theologians  of 
Leipsie,  "  the  illustrious  doctor  would  have  been  over- 
thrown."— "The  theologians  of  Leipsie,"  said  Eck  on 
his  jiart,  "are  well  enough,  but  I  had  hoped  too  much 
from  them :  I  did  the  whole  myself." — "  You  see,"  said 
Luther  to  Spalatin,  "  how  they  are  chanting  a  new 
Iliad,  and  a  new  .^Eueid.  They  are  kind  enough  to 
make  me  a  Hector  or  a  Tiirnus,  while  Eck  is  their 
Achilles  or  ^Ivieas.  Their  only  doubt  is,  whether  the 
victory  was  gained  by  the  arms  of  Eck,  or  by  those  of 
Leipsie.  All  I  can  say  to  throw  light  on  the  matter 
is,  that  Eck  uniformly  kept  bawling,  and  the  Leip- 
sie divines  as  uniformly  held  their  peace." 

"  Eck,"  says  the  elegant,  clever,  and  sagacious  Mosel- 
lauus,  "has  triumphed  in  the  estimation  of  those  who 
do  not  understand  the  subject,  and  who  have  grown 
old  in  poring  over  the  schoolmen  ;  but,  in  the  estima- 
tion of  all  men  of  learning,  intellect,  and  moderation, 
Luther  and  Carlstadt  are  the  victors." 

The  Leipsie  discussion,  however,  was  not  destined 
to  vanish  into  smoke.  Every  work  which  is  devoutly 
performed  bears  fruit.  The  words  of  Luther  had  pene- 
trated the  minds  of  his  hearers  with  irresistible  force. 
Several  of  those  who  had  daily  thronged  the  castle  hall 
were  subdued  by  the  truth,  whose  leading  conquests 
were  made  among  her  most  decided  opponents.  Even 
Poliander,  the  secretary,  familiar  friend  and  disciple 
of  Eck,  was  gained  to  the  Reformation,  and  began,  iu 
1522,  to  preach  the  Gospel  at  Leipsie.  John  Camera- 
rins,  professor  of  Hebrew,  one  of  the  keenest  opponents 
of  the  Reformation,  impressed  by  the  words  of  the 

:  mighty  teacher,  began  to  examine  the  Holy  Scriptiwes 
more  thoroughly;  and,  shortly  after  throwing  up  his 

I  situation,  came  to  Wittemberg  to  study  at  the  feet  of 
Luther.  He  was  afterwards  pastor  at  Frankfort  and 
Dresden. 

Among  those  who  had  taken  their  place  on  the  seats 
reserved  for  the  court,  and  accompanied  Duke  George, 
was  George  of  Anhalt,  a  young  prince,  twelve  years  of 
age,  of  a  family  which  had  distinguished  itself  iu  the 
wars  against  the  Saracens.  At  this  time  he  was  study- 
ing at  Leipsie  with  his  tutor.  Great  ardour  for  science, 
and  a  strong  attachment  to  truth,  had  already  become 
the  characteristics  of  the  illustrious  young  prince.  He 
was  often  heard  to  repeat  the  words  of  Solomon,  False- 
Iwud  ill  becomes  a  prince.  The  Leipsie  discussion  in- 
spired this  child  with  serious  reflection,  and  with  a 
decided  leaning  to  Luther.  Some  time  after  a  bishopi-ic 
was  offered  to  him.  His  brother,  and  all  his  family, 
with  the  view  of  raising  him  to  high  honour  in  the 
Church,  urged  him  to  accept  it ;  but  he  resolutely 
declined.  Ills  pious  mother,  who  was  secretly  favour- 
able to  Luther,  having  died,  he  became  possessed  of 
all  the  reformer's  writings.  He  was  cousUmt  and  fer- 
vent in  prayer  to  God,  to  incline  his  heart  to  the  truth  ; 
and,  often  in  the  solitude  of  his  chamber,  exclaimed, 
Avitli  tears.  Deal  mercifully  with  thy  servant,  and  teach 
me  th;/ statutes.  His  prayers  were  heard.  Carried  for- 
ward by  bis  convictions,  he  fearlessly  joined  the  ranks 


HISTORY  OF  THE  EEFOEMATION. 


of  the  fi  icncls  of  tlie  Gospel.  In  vain  did  bis  gnai'dians, 
and  [niticularly  Duke  George,  besiege  him  with  en- 
ticities  and  remonstiauces.  He  remained  inflexible; 
and  tbe  Duke,  half  convinced  by  his  pupil's  reasons, 
excHmied  :  "I  cannot  answer  him;  still,  however,  I 
Tvill  keep  by  my  Church.  I  am  too  old  a  dog  to  be 
tiamed"  We  will  afterwards  see  in  this  amiable 
pi  nice  one  of  the  finest  characters  of  the  Reformation, 
one  -wlio  himself  preached  the  Word  of  life  to  bis  sub- 
jects, and  to  whom  the  saying  of  Dion  respecting  tlie 
Emperor  Marcus  Antoninus  has  been  applied  '  He 
■v\is  thiougb  life  consistent  ^Mth   him^elt ,  he  was.   a 


general  favourite ;  and  Mosellanus  singled  him  out  as 
a  model  to  all  the  university.  He  was  called  Gaspard 
Cruciger,  and  was  originally  from  Leipsic.  This  new 
student  of  Wittemberg  was  afterwards  the  friend  of 
Melancthon,  and  the  assistant  of  Luther  in  the  tran- 
slation of  the  Bible. 

The  Leipsic  discussion  produced  results  still  more 
important,  inasmuch  as  the  theologian  of  the  Reforma- 
tion then  received  his  call.  Modest  and  silent,  Melanc- 
thon had  been  present  at  the  discussion,  almost  without 
taking  any  pait   m   it       fill   then    his  attention  hid 


CHUhCH  OF  ST  NICHOLAS  LEIPbIC 
But  Luthci'.s  Words  lUL-t  with  iii  tnthu  i  i  lit.  leccp- 
tion,  especially  from  the  students  Thty  felt  the  dit- 
ference  between  the  spirit  and  life  ct  the  doctoi  of 
Wittemberg,  and  the  sophistical  distinctions  and  vain 
speculations  of  the  Chancellor  of  Ingolstadt.  They 
saw  Luther  founding  upon  the  Word  of  God,  and  they 
saw  Di.  Eck  founding  only  on  human  traditions.  The 
effect  was  soon  visible.  The  classes  of  the  university 
of  Leipsic  almost  emptied  after  the  discussion.  One 
cncumstance  partly  contributed  to  this.  The  plague 
thieateued  to  make  its  appearance;  but  there  were 
many  other  universities — for  example,  Erfurt,  or  Li- 
golstidt — to  which  the  students  might  have  repaired. 
Ihe  foice  of  truth  drew  them  to  Wittemberg,  where 
the  number  of  the  students  was  doubled. 

Among  those  who  removed  from  the  one  university 
to  tliL  ( ihor,  was  a  youth  of  sixteen,  of  a  melancholy 
an — \\  lio  fpoke  little;  and  often,  amid  the  conversation 
and  _  lines  of  his  fellow-Students,  seemed  absorbed  by 
lii»  ow  u  thoughts.  His  parents  at  first  thought  him  of 
■weak  intellect;  but  they  soon  found  him  so  apt  to 
Icain,  and  so  completely  engrossed  by  his  studies,  that 
they  conceived  high  hopes  of  liim.  His  integrity,  his 
candoui-,  his   modesty,  and   his   piety,   made  him   a 


PETEr    S    GATE      LEIPSIC 

been  engrossed  by  litei  iture,  but  the  discussion  fv,e 
him  a  new  impulse,  and  gained  hiiii  over  to  theolog} . 
Henceforth  his  science  did  homage  to  the  Word  of 
God.  He  received  the  evangelical  truth  with  the 
simplicity  of  a  child.  His  audience  heard  him  expound 
the  doctrines  of  salvation  with  a  grace  and  clearness 
by  which  all  were  charmed.  He  boldly  advanced  in 
this,  which  was  to  him  a  new  career ;  "  for,"  said  he, 
"  Christ  will  never  leave  His  people."  From  this  mo- 
ment the  two  friends  walked  side  by  side,  contending 
for  liberty  and  truth, — the  one  with  the  energy  of 
St.  Paul,  and  the  other  with  the  meekness  of  St.  John. 
Luther  has  admirably  expressed  the  difference  of  their 
calling :  "  I  was  born,"  said  he,  "  to  enter  the  field  of 
battle,  and  contend  with  factions  and  demons.  Hence 
my  writings  breathe  w-ar  and  tempest.  I  must  root  up 
the  trunks,  remove  the  thorns  and  the  brambles,  and 
fill  up  the  marshes  and  pools.  I  am  the  sturdy  wood- 
cutter, who  must  clear  the  passacrc  and  level  the 
ground;  but  master  Philip  advances  eahiily  and  :  .'ftly; 
he  digs  and  plants;  sows  and  >v.iiei-s  joyiHi-ly,  in 
accordance  with  the  gifts  which  t.iud  has,  with  so 
liberal  a  hand,  bestowed  upon  him." 


LUTHER'S  EMANCIPATION. 


If  Jlclancthon,  the  quiet  sower,  was  called  to  (he 
work  by  the  discussion  of  Lcipsic,  Luther,  the  hardy 
woodcutter,  felt  his  arm  streustheucd,  and  liis  courage 
still  more  inflamed  by  i(.  The  mightiest  result  of 
this  discussion  was  produced  in  Luther  himself. 
"Scholastic  theology,"  said  he,  "sunk  entirely  in  my 
cslimalion,  under  the  triumphant  jn-csidency  of  Dr. 
lick."  In  regard  to  the  reformer,  the  veil  which  the 
Sciiool  and  the  Cliurch  had  Inuig  up  in  front  of  the 
sanctuary  was  rent  from  top  to  bottom.  Constrained 
to  engage  in  new  inrpiiries,  he  arrived  at  unexpected 
discoveries.  With  equal  astonishment  and  indignation 
he  saw  the  evil  in  all  its  magnitude.  "While  poring 
over  the  annals  of  the  Church,  he  discovered  that  the 
supremacy  of  IJomc  had  no  other  origin  than  ambition 
on  the  one  hand,  and  credulous  ignorance  on  the  other. 
The  narrow  point  of  view  under  whicli  he  had  hitherto 
looked  at  the  Church,  was  succeeded  by  one  both 
clearer  and  wider.  In  the  Christians  of  Greece  and 
the  East  he  recognized  true  members  of  the  Catholic 
Church ;  and  instead  of  a  visible  head,  seated  on  the 
banks  of  the  Tiber,  he  adored,  as  solo  head  of  his 
people,  that  invisible  and  eternal  Redeemer,  who,  ac- 
cording to  His  promise,  is  always  and  in  all  parts  of  the 
woj-ld,  in  the  midst  of  those  who  believe  in  His  name. 
The  Latin  Church  Luther  no  longer  regarded  as  the 
universal  Church.  The  narrow  barriers  of  Rome  were 
thrown  down ;  and  he  shouted  for  joy  when  he  saw 
the  glorious  domain  of  ,Iesus  Christ  stretching  far 
beyond  them.  Henceforth  he  felt  that  he  could  be  a 
nKMubcr  of  the  Church  of  Christ  witliout  belonging  to 
the  Church  of  the  pope.  In  particular,  the  ^XTitings 
of  John  IIuss  made  a  strong  inqn-ossion  on  him. 
To  his  great  surprise  he  discovered  in  them  the  doc- 
trine of  St.  Paul  and  St.  Augustine, — the  doctrine  to 
which  he  had  himself  arrived  after  so  many  struggles. 
'■1  believe,"  said  he,  "and,  without  knowing  it,  taught 
all  the  doctrines  of  John  IIuss.  So  did  Staupitz.  In 
short,  without  suspecting  it,  we  are  all  Hussites,  as  are 
also  St.  Paul  and  St.  Augustine.  I  am  confounded  at 
it,  and  know  not  what  to  think.  ...  Oh  what 
dreadful  judgments  have  not  men  merited  from  God ! 
Evangelical  truth,  when  imfolded,  and  published  more 
than  a  century  ago,  was  condemned,  bvn-ned,  and 
suppressed.     .     .     .     Woe  !  woe  to  the  earth  ! " 

Luther  disengaged  himself  from  the  papacy,  regard- 
ing it  with  decided  aversion  and  holy  indignation.  All 
the  witnesses  who,  in  every  age,  had  risen  up  against 
Rome,  came  successively  before  him,  to  testify  against 
her  and  unveil  some  of  her  abuses  or  errors.  "  Oh, 
darkness ! "  exclaimed  he. 

He  was  not  allowed  to  be  silent  as  to  these  sad  dis- 
coveries. Tiie  pride  of  his  adversaries,  their  pi'eteuded 
triumjdi,  and  tlic  efforts  which  they  made  to  extinguish 
the  light,  fixed  his  decision.  He  advanced  in  the  path 
in  which  God  was  loading  him,  without  any  uneasiness 
as  to  the  result.  Luther  has  fixed  upon  this  as  the 
moment  of  his  emancipation  from  the  papal  yoke. 
"Learn  by  me,"  said  he,  "how  difficult  it  is  to  clisen- 
cumber  oneself  of  errors  which  tlie  whole  world  con- 
firms by  its  example,  and  which,  from  long  Iiabit,  have 
become  a  second  nature.  For  seven  years  I  had  been 
reading,  and,  with  great  zeal,  publicly  expounding  the 
Holy  Scriptures,  so  that  I  had  them  almost  entirely  by 


heart.  I  had  also  all  the  rudiments  of  knowledge  and 
faith  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Ciirist, — that  is  to  say,  I  knew 
that  we  were  not  justified  and  saved  by  our  works,  but 
by  faith  in  Christ;  and  I  even  maintained  openly, 
that  the  pope  is  not  head  of  the  Christian  Church  by 
Divine  authority.  And  yet  ...  I  could  not  sec 
the  inference, — viz.,  that  certainly  and  necessarily  the 
pope  is  of  the  devil.  For  whatever  is  not  of  God  must, 
of  necessity,  be  of  the  devil."  Further  on  Luther 
adds  :  "  I  no  longer  vent  my  indignation  against  those 
who  are  still  attached  to  the  pope,  since  I  myself,  after 
reading  the  Holy  Scriptures  so  carefully,  and  for  so 
many  years,  still  clung  to  the  pope  with  so  much 
obstinacy." 

Such  were  the  true  results  of  the  discussion  of 
Leipsic — results  far  more  important  than  the  discussion 
itself,  and  resembling  those  first  successes  which  disci- 
pline an  army,  and  inflame  its  courage. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Eck  attaclcs  Melancthou— Melauctlion's  defence — Interpretation  of  Scrip- 
ture— Lutlier's  firmness — Tlie  Bohemian  Brethren — Eniser — Staupitz. 

EcK  abandoned  himself  to  all  the  intoxication  of  what 
he  would  fain  have  passed  off  as  a  victory.  He  kept 
tearing  at  Luther,  and  heaped  accusation  upon  accusa- 
tion against  him.  He  also  wrote  to  Frederick.  Like 
a  skilful  general,  he  wished  to  take  advantage  of  the 
confusion  which  always  succeeds  a  battle,  in  order  to 
obtain  important  concessions  from  the  prince.  Pre- 
paratory to  the  steps  which  he  meant  to  take  against 
his  opponent  personally,  he  invoked  the  flames  against 
his  writings,  even  those  of  them  which  he  had  not  read. 
Imploring  the  elector  to  convene  a  provincial  council, 
the  coarse-minded  doctor  exclaimed:  "Let  us  exter- 
minate all  this  vermin  before  they  multiply  out  of 
measure." 

Luther  was  not  the  only  person  against  whom  he 
vented  his  rage.  He  had  the  inq>rudence  to  call 
Melancthou  into  the  field.  Melanothon,  who  was  in 
terms  of  the  greatest  intimacy  with  the  excellent 
CEcolampadius,  gave  him  an  account  of  the  discussion, 
and  spoke  of  Eck  in  eulogistic  terms.  Nevertheless, 
the  pride  of  the  Chancellor  of  Ingolstadt  was  offended, 
and  he  immediately  took  np  the  pen  against  this 
"  grammarian  of  Wittemberg,  who,  it  is  true,"  said  he, 
"  was  not  ignorant  of  Latin  and  Greek,  but  had  dared 
to  publish  a  letter  in  which  he  had  insulted  him,  Dr. 
Eck." 

Melancthou  replied.  It  is  his  first  theological  writ- 
ing, and  displays  the  exquisite  urbanity  whioh  charac- 
terized this  excellent  man.  Laying  down  the  funda- 
mental principles  of  hermcneutics,  he  shews  that  the 
Holy  Scriptures  ought  not  to  be  explained  according  to 
the  Fathers,  but  the  Fathers  according  to  the  Holy 
Scriptures.  "  How  often,"  s.ays  he,  "  did  not  Jerome 
commit  mistakes !  how  often  Augustine !  how  often 
Ambrose !  how  often  do  they  differ  in  opinion !  how 
of  ten  do  they  retract  their  own  errors !     .     .     .     There 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


is  only  one  volume  inspired  by  the  Spirit  of  heaven, 
pure  and  true  throughout." 

"  Luther,"  it  is  said,  "  does  not  follow  some  ambigu- 
ous expositions  of  the  ancients ;  and  why  should  he 
follow  them  ?  When  he  expounds  the  passage  of  St. 
JIatthew,  Thon  art  Peter,  and  upon  this  rock  I  will 
hiiild  my  Church,  he  agrees  with  Origen,  who  by  him- 
self alone  is  worth  a  host;  with  Augustine  in  his 
homilj';  and  Ambrose  in  his  sixth  book  on  St.  Luke; 
to  say  nothing  of  others.  What,  then,  you  will  say, 
do  the  Fathers  contradict  each  other  ?  Is  it  surprising 
that  they  should?  I  believe  in  the  Fathers,  because  I 
believe  in  the  Holy  Scriptures.  The  meaning  of  Scrip- 
ture is  one,  and  simple,  like  heavenly  truth  herself. 
We  arrive  at  it  by  comparing  different  passages  toge- 
ther ;  we  deduce  it  from  the  thread  and  connection 
of  the  discourse.  There  is  a  philosophy  enjoined  us 
iu  regard  to  the  Book  of  God;  and  it  is,  to  employ  it  as 
the  touchstone  by  which  all  the  opinions  and  maxims 
of  men  must  be  tried." 

It  was  a  long  time  since  these  great  truths  had  been 
so  elegantly  expounded.  The  Word  of  God  was  re- 
stored to  its  proper  place,  and  the  Fathers  to  theirs. 
Tiie  simple  method  by  which  we  ascertain  the  meaning 
of  Scripture  was  distinctly  traced.  The  Word  had 
precedence  over  all  the  ditlieulties  and  the  expositions 
of  the  School.  Melancthon  furnished  the  answer  to 
those  who,  like  Dr.  Eck,  would  envelope  this  subject 
in  the  mists  of  a  remote  antiquity.  The  feeble  gram- 
marian had  risen  up,  and  the  broad  and  sturdy  shoul- 
ders of  the  scholastic  gladiator  had  bent  under  the  first 
pressure  of  his  arm. 

The  weaker  Eck  was,  the  more  uoise  he  made ;  as 
if  his  rhodomontades  and  accusations  were  to  secure 
the  victory  which  he  had  failed  to  obtain  in  debate. 
The  monks  and  all  the  partizans  of  Rome  re-echoing 
his  clamour,  Germany  rang  with  invectives  against 
Luther,  who,  however,  remained  passive.  "  The  more 
I  see  my  name  covered  with  opprobrium,"  said  he,  in 
finishing  the  expositions  which  he  published  on  the 
propositions  of  Leipsic,  "the  prouder  I  feel;  the  truth, 
iu  other  words,  Christ,  must  increase,  but  I  must 
decrease.  The  voice  of  the  Bridegroom  and  the  bride 
delights  me  more  than  all  this  clamour  dismays  me. 
Men  are  not  the  authors  of  my  sufferings,  and  I  have 
no  hatred  against  them.  It  is  Satan,  the  prince  of 
evil,  who  would  terrify  me.  But  He  who  is  in  us,  is 
greater  than  he  who  is  in  the  world.  The  judgment 
of  our  contemporaries  is  bad ;  that  of  posterity  will 
be  better." 

If  the  Leipsic  discussion  multiplied  Luther's  enemies 
in  Germany,  it  also  increased  the  number  of  his  friends 
abroad :  "  What  Huss  was  formerly  in  Bohemia,  you, 
O  Martin,  are  now  in  Saxony,"  wrote  the  brothers  of 
Bohemia  to  him;  "wherefore  pray,  and  be  strong 
iu  the  Lord." 

About  this  time  war  was  declared  between  Luther 
and  Emser,  now  a  professor  of  Leipsic.  The  latter 
addressed  a  letter  to  Dr.  Zach,  a  zealous  Roman 
Catholic  of  Prague,  in  which  his  professed  object  was 
to  disabuse  the  Hussites  of  the  idea  that  Luther  was 
of  their  party.  Luther  could  not  doubt,  that  under  the 
semblance  of  defending  him,  the  learned  Leipsicker's 
real  purpose  was   to   fasten  on  him  a  suspicion   of 


adhering  to  the  Bohemian  heresy ;  and  he  resolved  to 
tear  aside  the  veil  under  which  his  old  Dresden  host 
was  endeavouring  to  shroud  his  enmity.  With  this 
view  he  published  a  letter  addressed  to  the  "  goat 
Emser," — Emser's  arms  being  a  goat.  Luther  concludes 
with  a  sentiment  which  well  delineates  his  own  cha- 
racter :  "  To  love  all,  but  fear  none." 

While  new  friends  and  new  enemies  thus  appeared, 
old  friends  seemed  to  draw  off  from  Luther.  Staupitz, 
who  had  been  the  means  of  bringing  the  reformer  out 
of  the  obscurity  of  the  cloister  of  Erfurt,  began  to 
shew  him  some  degree  of  coolness.  Luther  was  rising 
too  high  for  Staupitz  to  follow  him.  "  You  abandon 
me,"  wrote  Luther  to  him.  "  The  whole  day  I  have 
been  exceedingly  grieved  on  j'our  account — like  a  child 
just  weaned  and  weeping  for  its  mother.  Last  night," 
continues  the  reformer,  "  I  dreamed  of  you :  you  were 
keeping  aloof  from  me ;  and  I  was  sobbing  and 
shedding  tears ;  then  you  gave  me  your  hand,  and  told 
me  to  dry  up  my  tears,  for  you  would  return  to  me." 

The  pacificator,  Miltitz,  wished  to  make  a  new 
attempt  at  conciliation.  But  what  hold  can  be  had  on 
men  while  still  under  the  excitement  of  the  contest  ? 
His  endeavours  led  to  no  result.  He  brought  the 
famous  rose  of  gold ;  but  the  elector  did  not  even  take 
the  trouble  to  receive  it  in  person.  Frederick  knew 
the  artifices  of  Rome,  and  was  not  to  be  imposed  upon. 


CHAPTER  YIIL 

Epistle  to  the  Galatians— Christ  for  us— Blindness  of  Luther's  Adversaries 
—First  Ideas  on  the  Supper— Is  tlie  Sacrament  Sufficient  without 
Faitli?— Luther  a  Boliemian — Ecli  attacked — Eclc  sets  out  for  Rome. 

Far  from  drawing  back,  Luther  uniformly  continued 
to  advance,  and  at  this  time  struck  one  of  his  severest 
blows  at  error,  by  publishing  his  first  commentary  on 
the  Epistle  to  the  Galatians.  It  is  true,  the  second 
commentary  was  superior  to  the  first ;  but  still,  the 
first  contained  a  forcible  exposition  of  the  doctrine  of 
justification  by  faith.  Every  expression  of  the  new 
apostle  was  full  of  life ;  and  God  employed  him  to 
imbue  the  hearts  of  the  people  with  divine  knowledge. 
"  Christ  gave  himself  for  our  sins,"  said  Luther  to  his 
contemporaries.  "  It  was  not  silver  or  gold  that  He 
gave  for  us,  nor  was  it  a  man  or  angels.  He  gave 
himself — himself,  out  of  whom  there  is  no  true  great- 
ness ;  and  this  incomparable  treasure  He  gave  .  .  . 
for  our  sins.  Where,  now,  are  tliose  who  proudly 
boast  of  the  powers  of  our  will  ?  where  are  the  lessons 
of  moral  philosophy?  where  the  power  and  strength 
of  the  law?  Our  sins  being  so  great,  that  they  cannot 
possibly  be  taken  away  without  an  immense  ransom, 
shall  we  pretend  to  acquire  righteousness  by  the  energy 
of  our  will,  by  the  power  of  the  law,  and  the  doctrines 
of  men  l  What  will  all  these  cunning  devices,  all  these 
illusions,  avail  us  ?  Ah !  we  will  only  cover  our 
iniquities  with  a  spurious  righteousness,  and  convert 
ourselves  into  hypocrites,  whom  no  worldly  power 
can  save." 


FIRST  IDEAS  ON  THE  EUCHARIST. 


But  -while  Lutlicr  thus  proves  that  man's  only  salva- 
tion is  in  Christ,  he  also  shews  how  this  salvation 
changes  his  nature,  and  enables  him  to  abound  in  good 
works.  "The  man,"  says  he,  "who  has  truly  heard 
the  Word  of  Christ,  and  keeps  it,  is  immediately 
clothed  with  the  spirit  of  charity.  If  thou  lovcst  him 
who  has  made  thee  a  present  of  twenty  florins,  or  done 
thee  some  service,  or  in  some  way  given  thee  a  proof 
of  his  affection,  how  much  more  oughtcst  thou  to  love 
Ilim,  who,  on  thy  account,  has  given  not  silver  or  gold, 
but  himself,  received  so  many  wounds,  endured  a 
bloody  sweat,  and  even  died  for  thee ;  in  one  word, 
who,  in  paying  for  all  thy  sins,  has  annihilated  death, 
and  secured  for  thee  a  Father  full  of  love  in  heaven  ! 
.  .  .  If  thou  lovcst  llim  not,  thy  heart  has  not 
listened  to  the  things  which  He  has  done ;  thou  hast 
not  believed  them  ;  for  faith  works  by  love."  "  This 
cpislle,"  said  Luther,  in  speaking  of  the  Epistle  to  the 
Galatians,  '•  is  my  epistle  :  I  am  married  to  it." 

His  ojiponents  caused  him  to  proceed  at  a  quicker 
pace  than  he  would  otherwise  have  done.  At  this 
time  Eck  instigated  the  Franciscans  of  Juterbock  to 
make  a  new  attack  upon  him ;  and  Luther,  in  his  reply, 
not  satisfied  with  repeating  what  he  had  already  taught, 
attacked  errors  which  he  had  recently  discovered.  "  I 
would  fain  know,"  says  he,  "  in  what  part  of  Scripture 
the  power  of  canonizing  saints  has  been  given  to  the 
popes ;  and  also  what  the  necessity,  or  even  the  utility 
is,  of  canonizing  them  V  ,  .  .  "  However,"  adds 
he,  ironically,  "  let  them  canonize  as  they  will." 

These  new  attacks  of  Luther  remained  unanswered. 
The  blindness  of  his  enemies  was  as  favourable  to  him 
as  his  own  courage.  They  passionately  defended 
secondary  matters,  and  said  not  a  word  when  they  saw 
the  foundations  of  Roman  doctrine  shaking  under  his 
hand.  While  they  were  eagerly  defending  some  out- 
works, their  intrepid  adversary  penetrated  into  the 
heart  of  the  citadel,  and  there  boldly  planted  the  stand- 
ard of  truth  ;  and  hence  their  astonishment  when  they 
saw  the  fortress  sapped,  blazing,  and  falling  to  pieces 
amid  the  flames,  at  the  moment  when  they  thought  it 
impregnable,  and  were  hurling  defiance  at  their  assail- 
ants.    Thus  it  is  that  great  changes  are  accomplished. 

The  sacrament  of  the  Lord's  Supper  began,  at  this 
time,  to  engage  Luther's  attention.  He  looked  for  it 
in  the  mass,  but  in  vain.  One  day,  shortly  after  his 
return  from  Leipsic,  he  mounted  the  pulpit.  Let  us 
mark  his  words,  for  they  are  the  first  which  he  pro- 
nounced on  a  subject  which  afterwards  divided  the 
Ciiurch  and  the  Reformation  into  two  parties.  "In 
the  holy  sacrament  of  the  altar,"  says  he,  "  there  are 
three  things  which  it  is  necessary  to  know :  the  sign, 
which  must  be  external,  visible,  and  under  a  corporal 
form  ;  the  thing  signified,  which  is  internal,  spiritual, 
and  within  the  mind ;  and  faith,  which  avails  itself  of 
both."  Had  the  definitions  jiot  been  pushed  further, 
unity  would  not  have  been  destroyed. 

Luther  continues:  "  It  were  good  that  the  Church 
shoiiid,  by  a  general  council,  decree  that  both  kinds 
sliall  be  distributed  to  all  the  faithful ;  not,  however, 
on  the  ground  that  one  kind  is  insufficient,  for  faith  by 
itself  would  be  sufiicieut."  These  bold  words  pleased 
his  audience,  though  some  were  astonished  and  offended, 
and  exclaimed,  "  This  is  false  and  scandalous." 


The  preacher  continues  :  ■•  There  is  no  union  closer, 
deeper,  or  more  inseparable  than  that  between  food 
and  the  body  which  is  nourished  by  it.  In  the  sacra- 
ment, Christ  unites  himself  to  us  so  closely  that  He 
acts  in  us  as  if  He  were  identified  with  us.  Our  sius 
attack  Him.     His  righteousness  defends  us." 

liut  Luther,  not  deeming  it  enough  to  expouud  the 
truth,  attacks  one  of  the  most  fundamental  errors  of 
Rome.  The  Roman  Church  pretends  that  the  sacra- 
ment operates  by  itself,  independently  of  the  disposi- 
tion of  him  who  receives  it.  Nothing  can  be  more 
convenient  than  such  an  opinion,  since  to  it  both  the 
eagerness  with  which  the  sacrament  is  sought,  and  the 
profits  of  the  clergy,  are  to  be  ascribed.  Luther  attacks 
this  doctrine,'  and  maintains  its  opposite," — viz.,  that 
faith  and  a  right  disposition  of  heart  are  indispensable. 

This  energetic  protestation  was  destined  to  over- 
throw ancient  superstitions ;  but,  strange  to  say,  it 
attracted  no  attention.  Rome  overlooked  what  might 
have  made  her  scream  in  agonj-,  and  impetuously  at- 
tacked the  unimportant  observation  which  Luther 
threw  out  at  the  commencement  of  his  discourse,  con- 
cerning communion  in  two  kinds.  The  discourse  hav- 
ing been  published  in  December,  a  general  cry  of 
heresy  was  raised.  "It  is  just  the  doctrine  of  Prague 
unadulterated,"  was  the  exclamation  at  the  Court  of 
Dresden,  where  the  sermon  arrived  during  the  Christ- 
mas festivals.  "  It  is  written,  moreover,  in  German, 
in  order  to  make  it  accessible  to  the  common  people." 
The  devotion  of  the  prince  was  troubled,  and,  on  the 
third  day  of  the  festival,  he  wrote  to  his  cousin  Frede- 
rick :  "  Since  the  publication  of  this  discourse,  the 
number  of  persons  who  receive  the  sacrament  in  two 
kinds  has  received  an  increase  of  6000.  Your  Luther, 
from  being  a  professor  of  Wittemberg,  is  on  the  eve  of 
becoming  a  bishop  of  Prague,  and  an  areh-hcretic." 
.  .  .  The  cry  was  :  "  Ho  was  born  in  Bohemia,  of 
Bohemian  parents ;  ho  was  brought  up  at  Prague,  and 
trained  in  the  writings  of  Wiekliffe." 

Luther  judged  it  right  to  contradict  these  rumours 
in  a  writing  in  which  he  gravely  detailed  his  parentage. 
"  I  was  born  at  Eisleben,"  said  he,  "  and  was  baptized 
in  St.  Peter's  Church.  The  nearest  town  to  Bohemia 
in  which  I  have  ever  been,  is  Dresden." 

The  letter  of  Duke  George  did  not  prejudice  the 
elector  against  Luther;  for  a  few  days  after,  he  invited 
him  to  a  splendid  entertainment  which  he  gave  to  the 
Spanish  ambassador ;  and  at  which  Luther  valiantly 
combated  the  minister  of  Charles.  The  elector's  chaj)- 
lain  had,  by  his  master's  order,  requested  Luther  to  use 
moderation  in  defending  his  cause.  "  Excessive  foUy 
displeases  man,"  replied  Luther  to  Spalatin;  "but 
excessive  wisdom  displeases  God.  The  Gospel  cannot 
be  defended  without  tumult  and  scandal.  The  Word 
of  God  is  sword,  war,  ruin,  scandal,  destruction, 
poison ;  and  hence,  as  Amos  expresses  it,  it  presents 
itself  like  a  bear  in  the  path,  and  a  lioness  in  the 
forest.  I  ask  nothing,  I  demand  nothing.  There  is 
one  greater  than  I  who  asks  and  demands.  AVhether 
He  stands  or  falls,  I  am  neither  gainer  nor  loser." 

It  was  obvious  that  faith  and  courage  were  about 
to  become  more  necessary  to  Luther  than  ever.     Eck 

1  Known  by  tlie  name  v(opi(s  opci-uUim, — the  work  perfunnetl. 

2  That  of  the  opui  opcraiUii, — the  work  of  the  perfonuer,  the  conimiuiicaut. 


152 


HISTOEY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


was  forming  projects  of  revenge.  Instead  of  the 
lam-els  which  he  had  counted  on  gaining,  he  had  be- 
come a  laughing-stock  to  all  men  of  intellect  through- 
out the  nation.    Cutting  satires  wore  puhlishcd  against 


him  Ltk  \\  1  cut  t  tla  M.1}  ht  at  1>  A.n  Epistle 
of  Ignorant  Canons,  ivntten  hy  Q^cohmpadius,  and 
a  comphnit  igauist  him,  probibly  by  the  excellent 
Pirckheiiner  of  Niu-emberg,  exhibiting  a  conibiuafion 


of    sarcasm    and    dignity  of  which  the    '-Provincial 
Letters  "  of  Pascal  alone  can  give  some  idea. 

Luther  expressed  his  dissatisfaction  with  some  of 
these  writings.  "It  is  better;"  said  he,  "to  attack 
openly  than  to  keep  barking  behind  a  hedge." 

How  greatly  the  Chancellor  of  Ingolstadt  had  mis- 
calculated !  His  countrymen  abandon  him ;  and  he 
prepares  for  a  journey  beyond  the  Alps,  to  invoke  the 
aid  of  strangers.  Wlierever  he  goes  he  vents  his 
thrcatenings  against  Luther,  Melancthon,  Carlstadt, 
and  the  elector  himself.  "  From  the  haughtiness  of 
his  expressions,"  says  the  doctor  of  AVittemberg,  "  one 
would  say  he  imagines  himself  to  be  God  Almighty." 
Inflamed  with  rage  and  thirsting  for  vengeance,  Eck, 
having,  in  February,  1520,  published  a  work  on  the 
primacy  of  St.  Peter, — a  work  devoid  of  sound  cri- 
ticism, in  which  he  maintained  that  this  apostle,  the 
first  of  the  popes,  resided  for  tweuty-iive  years  at 
Rome, — set  out  for  Italy  in  order  to  receive  the  reward 
of  his  pretended  triumphs,  and  to  forge  at  Rome, 
near  the  papal  capitol,   thunders   mightier   than   the 

1    frail  scholastic  arms  which  had  given  way  in  his  hands. 

I        Lutlicr  was  aware  of  all  the  dangers  to  which  the 

j  journey  of  his  antagonist  would  expose  him ;  but  he 
feared  not.  Spalatin,  alarmed,  urged  him  to  make 
proposals  of  peace.  "No,"  replied  Luther,  "so  long 
as  he  clamours,  I  cannot  decline  the  contest.  I  com- 
mit the  whole  affair  to  God,  and  leave  my  bark  to  the 
winds  and  wa\es.  It  is  the  battle  of  the  Lord.  How 
cau  it  be  imagined  that  Christ  will  advance  His  cause 
by  peace  ?     Did  He  not  combat  even  unto  death ;  and 

j   have  not  all  the  martjTS  since  done  the  same  ?" 

Such  was  the  position  of  the  two  combatants  of 

t  Leipsic  at  the  commencement  of  the  year  1520.  The 
one  was  stirring  up  the  whole  papacy  to  strike  a  blow 
at  his  rival,  who,  on  his  part,  waited  for  war  as  calmly 
as  if  he  had  been  waiting  for  peace.  The  year  en 
which  we  are  entering  will  see  the  bursting  of  the  storm. 


COMPETITORS  FOR  THE  IMPERIAL  CROWN. 


BOOK    VI. 


THE    BULL    OF    ItOME — 1520. 


CHAPTER  I. 

CliaracHor  of  jraxiniiliun— llio  Competitors  for  the  Emiiiie  — Charles— 
Framis  I.— Inclination  of  the  Ocrmaus— The  Crown  offered  to  Frede- 
rick—Charles is  Eleeled. 

A  NEW  character  was  going  to  appear  uiion  the  stage. 
God  saw  meet  to  place  tlie  monk  of  Wittemberg  in 
jircseuce  of  the  most  powerful  mouarch  wlio  Iiad 
appeared  in  Christendom  since  Charlemagne.  He 
chose  a  prince  in  the  fervid  vigour  of  youth,  to  whom 
everything  presaged  a  reign  of  long  duration, — a  prince 
whose  sceptre  extended  over  a  considerable  portion 
both  of  the  old  and  the  new  world ;  so  that,  according 
to  a  celebrated  expression,  the  sun  never  set  on  his 
vast  dominions, — and  opposed  him  to  this  humble  Re- 
formation, which  began  with  the  anguish  and  sighs  of 
a  poor  monk  in  the  obscure  cell  of  a  convent  at  Erfurt. 
The  history  of  this  monarch  and  his  reign  seems  to 
have  been  destined  to  give  a  great  lesson  to  the  world. 
It  was  to  shew  the  nothingness  of  all  "  the  power  of 
man,"  wlien  it  presumes  to  contend  with  '•  the  weak- 
ness of  God."  Had  a  prince,  friendly  to  Luther,  been 
called  to  the  empire,  the  success  of  the  Reformation 
would  have  been  attributed  to  his  protection.  Had 
even  an  emperor  opposed  to  the  new  doctrine,  but 
feeble,  occupied  the  throne,  the  triumphant  success  of 
the  work  would  have  been  accounted  for  by  the  feeble- 
ness of  the  mouarch.  But  it  was  the  proud  conqueror 
of  Pavia  who  behoved  to  humble  his  pride  before  the 
l)ower  of  the  Divine  "Word,  that  all  the  world  might 
see  how  he,  who  had  found  it  easy  to  drag  Francis  I. 
a  captive  to  Madrid,  was  compelled  to  lower  his  sword 
before  the  son  of  a  poor  miner. 

The  Emperor  Maximilian  was  dead,  and  the  electors 
had  met  at  Frankfort  to  give  him  a  successor.  In  the 
circumstances  in  which  Europe  was  placed,  this  elec- 
tion was  of  vast  importance,  and  was  regarded  with 
deep  interest  by  all  Christendom.  Maximilian  had 
not  been  a  great  prince  ;  but  his  memory  was  dear 
to  the  people,  who  took  a  pleasure  in  remembering 
liis  presence  of  mind  and  good-humoured  affability. 
Luther  often  talked  of  him  to  his  friends,  and  one  day 
related  the  following  anecdote  : — 

A  beggar  had  kept  running  after  him  asking  charity, 
and  addressing  him  as  his  brother;  '-for,"  said  he,  "we 
ai-e  both  descended  from  the  same  father,  Adam.  I 
am  poor,"  continued  he;  '"but  you  are  rich,  .and  it  is 
your  duty  to  assist  me."  At  these  words  the  emperor 
turned  round  and  said  to  him  :  "  Hold,  there's  a  penny; 
go  to  your  other  brothers,  and  if  each  gives  you  as 
much,  j'ou  will  soon  be  richer  than  I  am." 

The  person  about  to  be  called  to  the  empire  was  not 
a  good-natured  Maximilian.  Times  were  to  undergo 
a  change ;  ambitious  potentates  were  competing  for  the 


imperial  throne  of  the  West ;  the  reins  of  the  empire 
were  to  be  seized  by  an  energetic  hand ;  profound  peace 
was  to  be  succeeded  by  long  and  bloody  wars. 

At  the  assembly  of  Frankfort,  three  kings  aspired 
to  the  crown  of  the  Ciesars.  A  youthful  prince,  grand- 
son of  the  last  emperor,  born  at  the  opening  of  the 
century,  and  consequently  nineteen  years  of  age,  first 
presented  himself.     He  was  named  Charles,  and  was 


(Fro...  i;..-  ....: ■  ..,,  ;,..,..,..; 

born  at  Ghent.  His  paternal  grandmother,  Mary, 
daughter  of  Charles  the  Bold,  had  left  him  Flanders 
and  the  rich  States  of  Burgundy.  His  mother,  Joan, 
daughter  of  Ferdinand  of  Arragon  and  Isabella  of 
Ca.stile,  and  wife  of  Philip,  son  of  the  Emperor  Maxi- 
milian, had  transmitted  to  him  the  united  kingdoms  of 
Spain,  Naples,  and  Sicily,  to  which  Christopher  Colum- 
bus had  added  a  new  world,  while  the  recent  death  of 
his  grandfather  put  him  in  possession  of  the  hereditary 
States  of  Austria.  This  young  prince,  who  was  en- 
dowed with  great  talents,  to  a  turn  for  military  exer- 
cises (in  which  the  Dukes  of  Burgundy  had  long  been 
distinguished) — to  the  finesse  and  penetration  of  the 
Italians — to  the  reverence  for  existing  institutions 
which  still  characterizes  the  house  of  Austria,  and  pro- 
mised the  papacy  a  firm  defender, — joined  a  thorough 
knowledge  of  public  affairs,  acquired  under  the  direc- 
tion of  Chievres,  having,  from  fifteen  years  of  age, 
taken  part  in  all  the  deliberations  of  his  cabinet.     These 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


diversified  qualities  were,  in  a  mannei-,  shrouded  under 
Spanish  reserve  and  taciturnity.  In  personal  appear- 
ance lie  was  tall  in  stature,  and  had  somewhat  of  a 
melancholy  air.  "He  is  pious  and  tranquil,"  said 
Luther,  "  and  I  believe  does  not  speak  as  much  in  a 
year  as  I  do  in  a  day."  Had  the  character  of  Charles 
been  formed  under  the  influence  of  freedom  and  Chris- 
tianity, he  would,  perhaps,  have  been  one  of  the  most 
admirable  princes  on  record ;  but  politics  engrossed  his 
life,  and  stifled  his  great  and  good  qualities. 

Not  contented  with  all  the  sceptres  which  he  grasped 
in  his  hand,  young  Charles  aspired  to  the  imperial 
dignity.  "  It  is  like  a  sunbeam,  which  throws  lustre 
on  the  house  which  it  illumines,"  said  several ;  "  but  put 
forth  the  hand  to  lay  hold  of  it  and  you  will  find 
nothing."  Charles,  on  the  contrary,  saw  in  it  the  pin- 
nacle of  all  earthly  grandeur,  and  a  means  of  acquiring 
a  magic  influence  over  the  spirit  of  the  nations. 

Francis  I.  was  the  second  of  the  competitors.  The 
young  paladins  of  the  court  of  this  chivalric  king  were 
incessantly  representing  to  him  that  he  was  entitled, 
like  Charlemagne,  to  be  the  emperor  of  all  the  West; 
and  reviving  the  exploits  of  the  ancient  knights,  to 
attack  the  crescent  which  was  menacing  the  empire, 
discomfit  the  infidels,  and  recover  the  holy  sepulchre. 

"  It  is  necessai-y,"  said  the  ambassadors  of  Francis 
to  the  electors, — "  it  is  necessary  to  prove  to  the  dukes 
of  Austria  that  the  imperial  crown  is  not  hereditary. 
Besides,  in  existing  circumstances,  Germany  has  need, 
not  of  a  young  man  of  nineteen,  but  of  a  prince  who, 
to  an  experienced  judgment,  joins  talents  which  have 
already  been  recognized.  Francis  will  unite  the  arms 
of  France  and  Lombardy  to  those  of  Germany;  and 
make  war  on  the  Mussulmans.  Sovereign  of  the 
duchy  of  Milan,  he  is  already  a  member  of  the  imperial 
body."  These  arguments  the  French  ambassadors 
supported  by  four  hundred  thousand  crowns,  which 
they  distributed  in  purchasing  votes  and  in  festivities ; 
by  which  they  endeavoured  to  gain  over  their  guests. 

The  third  competitor  was  Henry  VIII.,  who,  jealous 
of  the  influence  which  the  choice  of  the  electors  might 
give  to  Francis  or  Charles,  also  entered  the  lists ;  but 
soon  left  his  powerful  rivals  sole  disputants  for  the 
crown. 

The  electors  were  not  disposed  to  favour  either. 
Their  subjects  thought  they  would  have  in  Francis  a 
foreign  master — and  a  master  who  might  deprive  the 
electors  themselves  of  their  independence,  as  he  had 
lately  deprived  the  nobles  of  his  own  dominions.  As 
to  Charles,  it  was  an  ancient  rule  with  the  electors 
not  to  choose  a  prince  who  was  already  playing  an 
important  part  in  the  empire.  The  pope  shared  in 
these  fears.  He  wished  neither  the  King  of  Naples, 
who  was  his  ULighbour,  nor  the  King  of  France,  whose 
enterprising  spirit  had  filled  him  with  alarm.  "  Choose 
rather  some  one  from  amongst  yourselves,"  was  his 
message  to  the  electors.  The  Elector  of  Treves  pro- 
posed Frederick  of  Saxony;  and  the  imperial  crown 
was  laid  at  the  feet  of  Luther's  friend. 

This  choice  would  have  obtained  the  approbation  of 
all  Germany.  Frederick's  wisdom  and  affection  for  his 
people  were  well  known.  During  the  revolt  of  Erfurt, 
hu  had  been  urged  to  take  the  town  by  assault,  and 
refused,  in  order  to  spare  blood.    "  But  it  will  not  cost 


five  men." — "  A  single  man  would  be  too  many," 
replied  the  prince.  The  triumph  of  the  Eeformation 
seemed  on  the  eve  of  being  secured  by  the  election  of 
its  protector.  Ought  not  Frederick  to  have  regarded 
the  offer  of  the  electors  as  a  call  from  God  himself? 
Who  could  have  presided  better  over  the  destinies  of 
the  empire  than  a  prince  of  so  much  wisdom  ?  Who 
could  have  been  stronger  to  oppose  the  Turks  than 
an  emperor  strong  in  faith  ?  The  refusal  of  the  Elector 
of  Saxony,  so  much  laiided  by  historians,  was  perhaps 
a  fault.  For  the  contests  which  afterwards  tore  Ger- 
many to  pieces,  he  is  perhaps  partly  to  blame.  But  it 
is  difficult  to  say  whether  Frederick  deserves  censure 
for  his  want  of  faith,  or  honour  for  his  humility.  He 
thought  that  even  the  safety  of  the  empire  made  it  his 
duty  to  refuse  the  crown.  "  To  save  Germany,"  said 
this  modest  and  disinterested  prince,  "  an  emperor  more 
powerful  than  I  is  requisite." 

The  legate  of  Rome,  seeing  that  the  choice  woidd 
fall  upon  Charles,  intimated  that  the  pope  withdrew 
his  objections;  and,  on  the  28th  of  June,  the  grandson 
of  Maximilian  was  elected.  "God,"  said  Frederick 
afterwards,  "gave  him  to  us  in  mercy  and  in  anger." 
The  Spanish  envoys  sent  a  present  of  thirty  thousand 
gold  florins  to  the  Elector  of  Saxony,  as  a  mark  of 
their  master's  gratitude ;  but  the  prince  refused  it,  and 
charged  his  ministers  not  to  accept  of  any  present. 
At  the  same  time  he  secured  the  German  liberties  by 
an  engagement,  to  which  the  envoys  of  Charles  took 
an  oath  in  his  name.  The  circumstances  in  which  the 
latter  prince  encircled  his  head  with  the  imperial 
crown,  seemed  still  better  fitted  than  the  oath  to  secure 
the  Germanic  liberties  aud  the  success  of  the  Refor- 
mation. The  young  prince  was  jealous  of  the  laiu-els 
which  his  rival,  Francis  I.,  had  gained  at  Marignan. 
The  struggle  was  to  be  continued  in  Italy;  and,  in  the 
meantime,  the  Reformation  would  doubtless  be  made 
secure.  Charles  left  Spaiu  in  May,  1520,  and  was 
crowned  on  the  22nd  of  October,  at  Aix-la-Chapelle. 


CHAPTER  11. 

Lutlicr  wi-itcs  to  the  Emperov— Luther's  dangers— Instructions  of  Frederick 
to  the  Court  of  Rome— Luther's  Sentiments — Melauctlion's  Fears— The 
German  Nobles  favourable  to  the  Reformation— Schaiunburg—SceUin- 
gen — Ulric  de  Htitten — Luther's  Confidence— Luther's  greater  Freedom 
—Faith  the  source  of  Works— What  Faith  gives— Luther  judging  his 
own  Writings. 

Luther  had  foreseen  that  the  causo  of  the  Reforma- 
tion would  soon  be  brought  before  the  new  emperor ; 
and,  when  Charles  was  still  at  Madrid,  addressed  a 
letter  to  him,  in  which  he  said  :  "  If  the  cause  which  I 
defend  is  worthy  of  being  presented  before  the  heavenly 
Maj(!Sty,  it  cannot  be  unworthy  of  engaging  the  atten- 
tion of  a  prince  of  this  world.  O  Charles !  prince  of 
the  kings  of  the  earth,  I  cast  myself  as  a  suppliant  at 
the  feet  of  your  most  serene  majesty,  and  beseech  you 
to  deign  to  take  under  the  shadow  of  your  wings,  not 
me,  but  the  very  cause  of  eternal  truth ;  for  the  defence 
of  which  God  has  entrusted  you  with   the   sword." 


LUTHER'S  DANGERS-'MELANCTHON'S  FEARS. 


155 


The  young  King  of  Spam  threw  iiside  this  odd  letter 
from  a  Gerinnn  monk,  and  returned  no  answer. 

AVhilc  Lutlicr  was  turning  in  vaiu  toward  Madrid, 
the  storm  seemed  gathering  around  him.  Fanaticism 
was  rekiniUed  in  (Jermany.  Ilochstratcn,  indefatig- 
able ill  liis  effort's  at  persecution,  had  extracted  certain 
tliescs  friim  Luther's  writings,  and  obtained  their  con- 
demnation by  the  universities  of  Cologne  and  Louvain. 
That  of  Erfurt,  which  liad  always  had  a  grudge  at 
Luther,  for  having  given  AVittemberg  the  preference, 
was  on  the  eve  of  following  their  example.  But  the 
doctor,  liaving  been  informed  of  it,  wrote  Lange,  in 
terms  so  energetic  that  the  theologians  of  Erfurt  took 
fright,  and  said  nothing.  Still,  however,  there  was 
cnougli  ti)  inflame  the  minds  of  men  in  the  condemna- 
tion pronounced  by  Cologne  and  Louvain.  More  than 
this,  the  priests  of  Misuia,  who  had  espoused  Emser's 
quarrel,  said  o|)enly  (such  is  Melaucthon's  statement) 
that  there  would  be  no  sin  in  killing  Luther.  "The 
time  is  come,"  said  Luther,  '•  when  men  think  they 
will  do  Jesus  Christ  service  by  putting  us  to  death." 
The  murderous  language  of  the  priests  did  not  fail  of 
its  effect. 

"  One  dnj"  says  a  biographer,  "  when  Luther  was 
in  front  of  the  Augustine  convent,  a  stranger,  with  a 
pistol  hid  under  his  arm,  accosted  him,  and  said,  'Why 
do  you  walk  about  thus  quite  alone'?'" — "I  am  in  the 
hands  of  God,"  replied  Luther ;  "  He  is  my  strength 
and  my  shield."  '•Thereupon,"  adds  the  biographer, 
'•  the  stranger  grew  pale,  and  fled  trembling."  About 
the  same  time  Serra-Longa,  the  orator  of  the  confer- 
ence of  Augsburg,  wrote  to  the  elector :  "  Let  not 
Luther  find  any  asylum  in  the  states  of  your  highness ; 
but,  repulsed  by  all,  let  him  be  stoned  to  death  in  the 
face  of  heaven.  This  would  please  me  more  than  a 
gift  of  ten  thousand  crowns." 

But  the  sound  of  the  gathering  storm  was  heard, 
especially  in  the  direction  of  Rcmic.  Valentine  Teutle- 
ben,  a  noble  of  Thuringia,  vicar  of  the  Archbishop  of 
Mentz,  and  a  zealous  partizan  of  the  papacy,  was  the 
representative  of  the  Elector  of  Saxony  at  Rome. 
Tcutlobcn,  ashamed  of  the  protection  which  his  master 
gave  to  the  heretical  monk,  could  not  bear  to  see  his 
mission  pai'alyzcd  by  this  imprudent  conduct;  and 
imagined  that,  by  alarming  the  elector,  he  would  in- 
duce him  to  abandon  the  rebel  theologian.  "Writing  to 
his  master,  he  said :  "  I  am  not  listened  to,  because  of 
the  protection  which  you  give  to  Luther."  But  the 
Romans  were  mistaken  if  they  thought  they  could 
frighten  sage  Frederick.  He  knew  that  the  will  of 
God  and  the  movements  of  the  people  were  more  irre- 
sistible than  the  decrees  of  the  papal  chancery.  He 
ordered  his  envoy  to  hint  to  the  pope  that,  far  from 
defending  Luther,  he  had  always  left  him  to  defend 
himself, — that  he  had,  moreover,  told  him  to  quit 
Saxony  and  the  university, — that  the  doctor  had  de- 
clared his  readiness  to  obey,  and  would  not  now  be  in 
the  electoral  states  had  not  the  legate,  Charles  de 
Miltitz,  begged  the  prince  to  keep  him  near  himself, 
from  a  fear  that  in  other  countries  he  would  act  with 
still  less  restraint  than  in  Saxony.  Frederick  did  still 
more ;  he  tried  to  enlighten  Rome.  "  Germany,"  con- 
tinues he,  in  his  letter,  "  now  possesses  a  great  num- 
ber of  leai-ned  men,  distinguished  for  scholarship  and 


science ;  the  laity  themselves  begin  to  cultivate  their 
nnderslanding,  and  to  love  the  Holy  Scriptures. 
Hence,  there  is  great  reason  to  fear  that,  if  the  equit- 
able proposals  of  Doctor  Luther  arc  not  accepted, 
peace  will  never  be  re-established.  The  doctrine  of 
Luther  has  struck  its  roots  deep  in  many  hearts.  If, 
instead  of  refuting  it  by  passages  from  the  Bible,  an 
attempt  is  made  to  crush  him  by  the  thunders  of  eccle- 
siastical power,  great  scandal  will  be  given,  and  perni- 
cious and  dreadful  outbreaks  will  ensue." 

The  elector,  having  full  confidence  in  Luther,  caused 
Teutlcben's  letter  to  be  communicated  to  him,  and  also 
another  letter  from  Cardinal  St.  George.  The  reformer 
was  moved  on  reading  them.  lie  at  once  saw  all  the 
dangers  by  which  he  was  surrounded,  and  for  aa 
instant  his  heart  sank.  But  it  was  in  such  moments 
as  these  that  his  f:iilli  (lisplaycd  its  full  power.  Often, 
when  feeble  an.l  nudy  tn  fall  into  despondency,  he 
rallied  again,  and  sicmc^il  ^iiater  amid  the  raging  of  the 
storm.  He  would  fain  have  been  delivered  from  all 
these  tri.als ;  but,  aware  of  the  price  that  must  h.ave 
been  paid  for  repose,  he  spurned  it  with  indignation. 
"  Be  silent ! "  said  he;  "  I  am  disposed  to  be  so,  if  I  am 
allowed — that  is  to  say,  if  others  are  silent.  If  any 
one  envies  my  situation,  he  is  welcome  to  it.  If  any 
one  is  desirous  to  destroy  my  writings,  let  him  burn 
them.  I  am  ready  to  remain  quiet,  provided  Gospel 
truth  is  not  compelled  to  be  quiet  also.  I  ask  not  a 
cadinal's  hat ;  I  ask  neither  gold,  nor  auglit  that  Rome 
esteems.  There  is  nothing  which  I  will  not  concede, 
provided  Christians  are  not  excluded  from  the  way  of 
salvation.  All  their  threatenings  do  not  terrify — all 
their  promises  cannot  seduce  me." 

Animated  by  these  sentiments,  Luther  soon  resumed 
his  warlike  temperament,  preferring  the  Christian 
combat  to  the  calmness  of  solitude.  One  night  was 
sufficient  to  revive  his  desire  of  overthrowing  Rome. 
"  My  part  is  taken,"  wrote  he  next  day.  "  I  despise 
the  fury  of  Rome,  and  I  despise  her  favour.  No  more 
reconciliation,  nor  more  communication  with  her  for 
ever.  Let  her  condemn  and  burn  my  writings !  I,  in 
my  turn,  will  condemn  and  publicly  burn  the  pontifical 
law,  that  nest  of  all  heresies.  The  moderation  which 
I  have  shewn  up  to  this  hour  has  been  useless,  and  I 
have  done  with  it  I" 

His  friends  were  far  from  feeling  equally  tranquil. 
Great  alarm  prevailed  at  Wittemberg.  "  We  arc 
waiting  in  extreme  anxiety,"  said  Melancthon.  "I 
would  sooner  die  than  be  separated  from  Luther.  Un- 
less God  come  to  our  assistance,  we  perish."  Writing 
a  month  later,  in  his  anxiety,  he  says :  "  Our  Luther 
still  lives  ;  and  God  grant  he  long  may;  for  the  Roman 
sycophants  are  using  every  means  to  destroy  him. 
Pray  for  the  life  of  him  who  is  sole  vindicator  of 
sound  theology." 

These  prayers  were  not  in  vain.  The  warnings 
which  the  elector  had  given  Rome,  through  his  envoy, 
were  not  without  foundation.  The  word  of  Luther 
had  been  everywhere  heard,  in  cottages  and  convents, 
at  the  firesides  of  the  citizens,  in  the  castles  of  nobles, 
in  academies,  and  in  the  palaces  of  kings.  He  had 
said  to  Duke  John  of  Saxony :  "  Let  my  life  only  have 
contributed  to  the  salvation  of  a  single  individual,  and 
I  -will  willingly  consent  that  all  my  books  perish." 


15G 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


Not  a  single  individual,  but  a  groat  multitude,  had 
fouud  light  iu  the  writiugs  of  the  humble  doctor;  and 
hence,  in  all  quarters,  there  were  men  ready  to  protect 
him.  Tlic  sword  which  was  to  attack  him  was  on  the 
anvil  of  the  Vatican ;  but  there  wore  heroes  in  Ger- 
many who  would  interpose  their  bodies  as  his  buckler. 
At  the  moment  when  the  bishops  were  waxing  wroth, 
when  princes  wore  silent,  when  the  people  were  await- 
ing the  result,  and  when  the  thunder  was  already 
grumbling  on  the  seven  hills,  God  raised  up  the  Ger- 
man nobility,  and  placed  them  as  a  rampart  around 
His  servant. 

At  this  time,  Sylvester  of  Schaumburg,  one  of  the 
most  powerful  nobles  of  Franconia,  sent  his  sou  to 
AVittemberg  with  a  letter  for  the  reformer,  in  which 
he  said :  "  Your  life  is  exposed  to  danger.  If  the 
support  of  electors,  princes,  or  magistrates  fails  you,  I 
beg  of  you  to  beware  of  going  into  Bohemia,  where, 
of  old,  very  learned  men  had  nmcli  to  suffer ;  come 
rather  to  me ;  God  willing.  I  shall  soon  have  collected 
more  than  a  hundred  gentlemen,  and  with  their  help 
will  be  able  to  keep  you  free  from  harm." 

Francis  of  Seckingen,  the  hero  of  his  age,  whose 
intrepid  courage  we  have  already  seen,  loved  the 
reformer,  because  he  found  that  he  was  worthy  of  love; 


and  also  because  he  w-i^  hated  by  the  monks.  "My 
person,  mypropeitj,  and  sei vices, — all  that  I  possess," 
wrote  he  to  hnn,  "is  at  your  disposal.  Your  wish 
is  to  maintain  Christian  truth,  and  in  that  I  am 
ready  to  assist  you."  Ilarmuth  of  Cronberg  spoke  in 
similar  terms.  Ulric  von  Hlitten,  the  poet  and  valiant 
knight  of  the  sixteenth  century,  ceased  not  to  speak  in 
commendation  of  Luther.  But  how  great  the  contrast 
between  those  two  mei^ !  Iliitten  wrote  to  the  refor- 
mer :  "  We  must  have  swords,  bows,  javelins,  and 
bullets,  to  destroy  the  fury  of  the  devil."  Luther,  on 
receiving  these  letters,  exclaimed :  "  I  have  no  wish 
that  men  should  have  recourse  to  arms  and  carnage  in 
order  to  defend  the  Gospel.  It  was  by  the  Word  the 
world  was  overcome — by  the  Word  the  Church  has 
been  saved — and  by  the  AVord  will  she  be  re-estab- 
lished."    "  I  despise  not  his  offers,"  said  he,  on  receiv- 


ing the  above  letter  from  Schaumburg;  "but  still  I 
wish  to  lean  on  none  but  Christ."  So  spake  not  the 
pontiffs  of  Rome  when  they  waded  in  the  blood  of  the 
Vaudois  and  Albigenses.  Hlitten  was  sensible  of  the 
difference  between  his  cause  and  Luther's,  and  accord- 
ingly wrote  with  noble  frankness :  "  I  am  occupied 
with  the  things  of  man ;  but  you,  rising  to  a  far  greater 
height,  give  yourself  wholly  to  those  of  God."  After 
thus  writing,  he  set  out  to  try,  if  possible,  to  gain  over 
Ferdinand  and  Charles  V.  to  the  truth. 

Thus,  on  the  one  hand,  Luther's  enemies  assail  hira  ; 
and  on  the  other,  his  friends  rise  up  to  defend  him. 
"My  barque,"  says  he,  "floats  here  and  there  at  the 
pleasure  of  the  winds ;  .  .  .  hope  and  fear  reign 
by  turns  ;  but  what  matters  it  ? "  Still  his  mind  was 
not  uninfluenced  by  the  marks  of  sympathy  which  he 
received.  "  The  Lord  reigns,"  said  he ;  "  and  so  visibly 
as  to  be  almost  palpable."  Luther  saw  that  he  was  no 
longer  alone ;  his  words  had  proved  faithful,  and  the 
thought  inspired  him  with  new  courage.  Now  that  he 
has  other  defenders  prepared  to  brave  the  fury  of 
Rome,  he  will  no  longer  be  kept  back  by  the  fear  of 


FRANCIS  I., 

(Jjlev  the  Portrait  h>j  Titiam.) 

compromising  the  elector.  He  becomes  more  free,  and, 
if  possible,  more  decided.  This  is  an  important  period 
in  the  development  of  Luther's  mind.  Writing  at  this 
time  to  the  elector's  chaplain,  he  says:  "  Rome  must 
be  made  aware,  that  though  she  should  succeed,  by 
her  menaces,  iu  exiling  me  from  Wittemberg,  she  will 
only  damage  her  cause.  Those  who  are  ready  to 
defend  me  against  the  thunders  of  the  papacy,  are  to 
be  found  not  in  Bohemia,  but  in  the  heart  of  Ger- 
many. If  I  have  not  yet  done  to  my  enemies  all 
that  I  am  preiiaring  for  them,  they  must  ascribe 
it  neither  to  my  moderation  nor  to  their  tyranny; 
but  to  my  fear  of  compromising  the  name  of  the 
elector,  and  the  prosperity  of  the  university  of  AVit- 
temberg.     Now  that  I  have  no  longer  any  such  fears. 


FAITH  THE  SOURCE  OF  WORKS. 


I  will  rush  witli  new  impetuosity  ou  Home  aud  her 
courtiers." 

Still  Luther's  hope  was  not  placed  on  the  great.  He 
had  often  been  urged  to  dedicate  a  book  to  Duke  John, 
the  elector's  brother,  but  had  never  done  it.  '•  I  fear," 
he  had  said,  "  that  the  suggestion  conies  from  himself. 


The  Ilc.ly  Scrlpti 


sul)scr\  iout  only  to  the 


glory  of  (iod'.-.  n  i  ids  laid  aside 

his  suspicions,   aud  di_Jii.,Ui-d  liis  di^cuursc  on  Good 
A\^orks  to  Duke  John. — a  diacour^e  in  which  he  gives  a 
forcible  exposition  of   the   doctrine  of  ju-ti- 
fication  by  faith — a  mighty  doctune    \\h 
power  he  rates  far  higher  than  the   -\\    i  1 
of  Iliitten,  the  army  of  Seckingcn,   oi    th 
protection  of  dukes  and  electors. 

"'I'he  first,   the  noblest,   the  subhnio  t     t 
all  works,"  says  he,  -'is  faith  in  Je-»u-5  Cli 
From  this  work  all  other  works  should 
ceed;  they  are  all  the  vassals  of  faith 
from  it  alone  derive  their  efficacy. 

"  If  a  man's  own  heart  assures  hiui  lli  it 
what  he  is  doing  is  agreeable  to  God  the 
work  is  good  should  it  be  merely  the  liftiiia 
up  of  a  straw;  but  in  the  absence  of  thi> 
assurance  the  work  is  not  good,  thoiuh  it 
should  be  the  raising  of  the  dead.  A  p  igan, 
a  Jew,  a  Turk,  a  sinner,  can  do  all  othti 
works ;  but  to  trust  firmly  in  the  Lord,  and 
feel  assured  of  pleasing  Ilim,  are  woiks  of 
which  none  are  capable  but  the  Clfisti  in 
strengtheued  by  gi-ace. 

"A  Christian,  who  has  faith  in  God  act-, 
at  all  times,  with  freedom  and  gladne--,  w  hcic- 
as  the  man  who  is  not  at  one  with  God  iS 


fidl  of  cares,  and  is  detained  in  thraldom ;  he  anx- 
iously asks  how  many  works  he  ought  to  do  ;  he  runs 
up  and  down  interrogating  this  man  and  that  man,  and, 
nowhere  finding  any  peace,  docs  everything  with  dis- 
satisfaction and  fear. 

"  Hence,  I  have  always  extolled  faith.  But  it  is 
otherwise  in  the  world :  there  the  essential  point  is  to 
have  many  works — works  great  and  high,  and  of  all 
dimensions ;  while  it  is  a  matter  of  indifference 
whether  or  not  faith  animates  them.  Thus,  men 
build  their  peace,  not  on  the  good  pleasui-e  of  God,  but 
on  their  own  merits, — that  is  to  say,  on  the  sand.  .  . 
(Matt.  vii.  27.) 

"  To  preach  faith  is,  it  is  said,  to  prevent  good  works ; 
but  though  a  single  man  should  have  in  himself  the 
powers  of  all  men,  or  even  of  all  creatures,  the  mere 
obligation  of  living  by  faith  would  be  a  task  too  great 
for  him  ever  to  accomplish.  If  I  say  to  a  sick  person. 
Be  in  health  and  you  will  have  the  use  of  your  mem- 
bers— will  it  be  said  that  I  forbid  him  to  use  his  mem- 
bers? Must  not  health  precede  laboin- ?  The  same 
holds  true  in  the  in-eachiiig  of  faith  ;  it  must  be  before 
works,  in  order  that  works  themselves  may  exist. 

"Where,  then,  you  will  ask,  is  this  faith  found,  and 
how  is  it  received  ?  This,  indeed,  is  the  most  impor- 
tant of  all  questions.  Faith  conies  solely  from  Jesus 
Christ,  who  is  promised,  and  given  gratuitously. 

"  0  man !  represent  Christ  to  thyself,  and  consider 
how  in  Ilim  God  manifests  His  mercy  to  thee  without 
being  anticipated  by  any  merit  on  thy  part.  In  this 
image  of  His  grace  receive  the  faith  and  assurance 
that  all  thy  sins  arc  forgiven  thee.  Works  cannot  pro- 
duce it.  it  flows  from  the  blood,  the  wounds,  and  the 
death  of  Christ,  Avhence  it  wells  up  in  the  heart. 
Christ  is  the  rock  out  of  which  come  milk  and  honey. 
(Deut.  xxxii.)" 

Not  being  able  to  give  an  account  of  all  Luther's 
works,  we  have  quoted  some  short  fragments  of  this 
discourse  on  Good  Works,  on  account  of  the  opinion 
which  the  reformer  himself  had  of  it.     "  It  is  in  my 


ym 


158 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFOEMATION. 


judgmeat,"  said  he,  "  the  best  work  that  J  have  pub- 
lished." He  immediately  subjoins  this  jirofouud  obser- 
vation :  "  But  I  know  that  when  anything  I  write 
pleases  myself,  the  infection  of  this  bad  leaven  pre- 
vents it  from  pleasing  others."  Melancthon,  in  send- 
ing a  copy  of  this  discourse  to  a  friend,  thus  expressed 
I  himself :  "  Of  all  Greek  aud  Latin  authors  none  has 
j     come  nearer  the  spirit  of  St.  Paul  than  Luther." 


CHAPTER  111. 

The  Papacy  Attacked— Appeal  to  the  Nobility— The  Three  Walls  —  All 
Christians  are  Priests— The  Magistrate's  duty  to  Correct  the  Clergj' — 
Abusis  ufEojiie— Ruin  of  Italy— Dangers  of  Germany— The  Pope— The 
Ll -III,— 11..  MiiiiL,  -The  Marriage  of  Priests— Celibacy— Festivals - 
111    I  I     iiiiy- The  Uuiversities—The  Empire— The  Empe- 

11   ■    I  !   1      :      i:  ;,„  -A  Book  not  Published— Luther's  Modesty— 


But  the  substitution  of  a  system  of  meritorious  works 
for  the  idea  of  grace  and  amnesty,  was  not  the  only 
evil  existing  in  the  Church.  A  domineering  power 
had  risen  up  among  the  liumble  pastors  of  Christ's 
flock.  Luther  must  attack  this  usurped  authority.  A 
vague  and  distant  rumour  of  Eck's  intrigues  and  suc- 
cess at  Rome  awakened  a  warlike  spirit  in  the  reformer, 
who,  amid  all  his  turmoil,  had  calmly  studied  the 
origin,  progress,  and  usurpations  of  the  papacy.  His 
discoveries  having  filled  him  with  surprise,  he  no  longer 
hesitated  to  communicate  them,  aud  strike  the  blow 
which  was  destined,  like  the  rod  of  Moses  of  old,  to 
awaken  a  whole  nation  out  of  a  lethargy,  the  result  of 
long  bondage.  Even  before  Rome  had  time  to  publish 
her  formidable  bull,  he  published  his  declaration  of 
war.  "  The  time  of  silence,"  exclaims  he,  "  is  past ; 
the  time  for  speaking  has  arrived.  Tlie  mysteries  of 
Antichrist  must  at  length  be  unveiled."  On  the  24th 
June,  1520,  he  published  his  famous  "Appeal  to  his 
Imperial  Majesty  and  the  Christian  Nobility  of  Ger- 
many, on  the  Reformation  of  Christianity."  This  work 
■\\as  the  signal  of  the  attack  which  was  at  once  to  com- 
plete the  rupture  and  decide  the  victory. 

"  It  is  not  from  presumption,"  says  he,  at  the  outset 
of  this  treatise,  "  that  I,  who  am  only  one  of  the  people, 
undertake  to  address  your  lordships.  The  misery  aud 
oppression  endured  at  this  moment  by  all  the  States  of 
Christendom,  and  more  especially  by  Germany,  wring 
from  me  a  cry  of  distress.  I  must  call  for  aid  ;  I  must 
see  whether  God  will  not  give  His  Spirit  to  some  one 
of  our  countrymen,  and  stretch  out  a  hand  to  our 
unhappy  nation.  God  has  given  us  a  young  and  gene- 
rous prince,  (the  Emperor  Charles  V.,)  and  thus  filled 
our  hearts  with  high  hopes.  But  we,  too,  must,  on 
our  own  part,  do  all  we  can. 

'•  Now,  the  first  thing  necessary  is,  not  to  confide  in 
our  own  great  strength,  or  our  own  high  wisdom. 
When  any  work  otherwise  good  is  begun  in  self-con- 
fidence, God  casts  it  down,  and  destroys  it.  Frederick 
I.,  Frederick  II.,  and  many  other  emperors  besides, 
before  whom  the  world  trembled,  have  been  trampled 
upon  by  the  pojies,   because  they  trusted  more  to  their 


own  strength  than  to  God.  They  could  not  but  fall. 
In  this  war  we  have  to  combat  the  powers  of  hell ;  and 
our  mode  of  conducting  it  must  be  to  expect  nothing 
from  the  strength  of  human  weapons — to  trust  humbly 
in  the  Lord,  and  look  still  more  to  the  distress  of 
Christendom  than  to  the  crimes  of  the  wicked.  It 
may  be  that,  by  a  different  procedure,  the  work  would 
begin  under  more  favourable  appearances ;  but  sud- 
denly, in  the  liont  of  the  Cdiitest.  foiifusiou  would  arise, 
bad  men -wi mill  cMii^c  frnrt'iil  disnlri-,  and  the  world 
would  be  cleln-nl  wilh  bl.mil.  Th.i  ./ivuter  the  power 
the  greater  the  danger,  Avheu  thiuga  are  not  done  in  the 
fear  of  the  Lord." 

After  this  exordium,  Luther  continues  : — 
"The  Romans,  to  guard  against  every  species  of 
reformation,  have  surrounded  themselves  with  three 
walls.  When  attacked  by  the  temporal  power,  they 
denied  its  juiisdiction  over  them,  and  maintained  the 
superiority  of  the  spiritual  power.  When  tested  by 
Scripture,  they  replied,  that  none  could  interpret  it  but 
the  pope.  When  threatened  with  a  council,  they 
again  replied,  that  none  but  the  pope  could  convene  it. 
"  They  have  thus  carried  off  from  us  the  three  rods 
destined  to  chastise  them,  and  abandoned  themselves 
to  all  sorts  of  wickedness.  But  now  may  God  be  our 
help,  and  give  us  one  of  the  trumpets  which  threw 
down  the  walls  of  Jericho.  Let  us  blow  down  the 
walls  of  paper  and  straw  which  the  Romans  have  built 
around  them ;  and  lift  up  the  rods  which  punished  the 
wicked,  by  bringing  the  wiles  of  the  devil  to  the  light 
of  day." 

Luther  next  commences  the  attack,  and  shakes  to 
the  foundation  that  papal  monarchy  which  had  for  ages 
united  the  nations  of  the  West  into  one  body  under 
the  scej)tre  of  the  Roman  bishop.  There  is  no  sacer- 
dotal caste  in  Christianity.  This  truth,  of  which  the 
Church  was  so  early  robbed,  he  vigorously  expounds 
in  the  following  terms  : — 

"  It  has  been  said  that  the  pope,  the  bishops,  the 
priests,  aud  all  those  who  people  convents,  form  the 
spiritual  or  ecclesiastical  estate ;  and  that  princes,  no- 
bles, citizens,  and  peasants,  form  the  secular  or  lay 
estate.  This  is  a  specious  tale.  But  let  no  man  be 
alarmed.  All  Christians  belong  to  the  spiritual  estate  ; 
and  the  only  difference  between  them  is  in  the  functions 
which  they  fulfil.  We  have  all  but  one  baptism,  but  one 
faith;  and  these  constitute  tlie  spirilual  man.  Unction, 
tonsure,  ordination,  couseeiMliim.  ei\iii  by  the  pope, 
or  by  a  bishop,  may  make  a  li\  inMiiie.  but  can  never 
make  a  spiritual  man.  We  are  all  consecrated  priests 
by  baptism,  as  St.  Peter  says:  'You  are  a  royal  priest- 
hood ; '  although  all  do  not  actually  perform  the  offices 
of  kings  and  priests,  because  no  one  can  assume  what 
is  common  to  all  without  the  common  consent.  But 
if  this  consecration  of  God  did  not  belong  to  us,  the 
unction  of  the  pope  could  not  make  a  single  priest.  If 
teu  brothers,  the  sons  of  one  king,  and  possessing 
equal  claims  to  his  inheritance,  should  choose  one  of 
their  number  to  administer  for  them,  they  would  all  be 
kings,  and  yet  only  one  of  them  would  be  the  adminis- 
trator of  their  common  power.  So  it  is  in  the  Church. 
Were  several  pious  laymen  banished  to  a  desert,  and 
were  they,  from  not  having  amoug  them  a  priest  con- 
secrated by  a  bishop,  to  agree  in  selecting  one  of  their 


ROMAN  CORRUPTIOKS-THE  POPE. 


\:,0 


number,  whctlier  murried  or  not,  he  would  be  as  truly 
a  priest,  as  if  all  the  bisliops  of  the  world  had  conse- 
crated him.  Ill  this  way  were  Augustiue,  Ambrose, 
and  Cyprian  elected. 

"Hence  it  follows,  that  laymen  and  priests,  princes 
and  bishops,  or,  as  we  have  said,  ecclesiastics  and  laics, 
have  nothing  to  distinguish  them  but  their  functions. 
They  have  all  the  same  condition t  but  they  have  not 
all  tiie  same  work  to  perform. 

'•This  being  so,  why  should  not  the  magistrate  cor- 
rect the  clergy  >  The  secular  power  was  api)ointed  by 
God  for  the  punishment  of  the  wicked  and  the  pro- 
tection of  tlii^  LTiioil.  and  must  be  left  free  to  act 
throughout  ('liii>iiii.lniii  without  respect  of  persons,  be 
they  pope,  l.i  lin|,^.  pri.  -t-,  monks,  or  nuns.  St.  Paul 
says  to  all  Lluistian>,  /,(■/  ei-ery  soul  (and,  conse- 
quently, the  pope  also)  be  suiject  to  the  hir/hef  poueis ; 
lor  they  bear  not  the  sicord  in  rain,  (Uom.  xiii.  1,  4.)" 

Luther,  after  throwing  down  the  other  two  walls  in 
the  same  way,  takes  a  review  of  all  the  abuses  of 
Rome.  "With  an  elofpience  of  a  truly  popular  descrip- 
tion he  exposes  evils  which  had  for  ages  been  noto- 
rious. Never  had  a  nobler  remonstrance  been  heard. 
The  assembly  which  Luther  addresses  is  the  Church  ; 
the  i)ower  whose  abuses  he  attacks  is  that  papacy 
which  had  for  ages  been  the  oppressor  of  all  nations; 
and  the  Reformation  for  which  he  calls  aloud,  is  des- 
tined to  exercise  its  powerful  influence  on  Christen- 
dom— all  over  the  world,  and  so  long  as  man  shall 
exist  upon  it. 

He  begins  with  the  pope.  "  It  is  monstrous,"  says 
he,  "  to  see  him  who  calls  himself  the  vicar  of  Jesus 
Christ  displaying  a  magnificence  unequalled  by  that 
of  any  emperor.  Is  this  the  way  in  which  he  proves 
his  resemblance  to  lowly  Jesus,  or  humble  Peter  ?  He 
is,  it  is  said,  the  lord  of  the  world.  But  Christ,  whose 
vicar  he  boasts  to  be,  has  said :  My  Iciiujdom  is  not  of 
this  norld.  Can  the  power  of  a  vicegerent  exceed  that 
of  his  prince?"     .     .     . 

Luther  proceeds  to  depict  the  consequences  of  the 
pai)al  domination.  "  Do  you  know  of  what  use  the 
cardinals  su'e?  I  wiU  tell  you.  Italy  and  Germany 
have  many  convents,  foundations,  and  benefices,  richly 
endowed.  How  could  their  revenues  be  brought  to 
Rome?  .  .  .  Cardinals  were  created;  then  on 
tiiem  cloisters  and  prelacies  were  bestowed;  and  at 
this  hour  .  .  .  Italy  is  almost  a  desert — the  con- 
vents are  destroyed — the  bishoprics  devoured — the 
towns  in  decay — the  inhabitants  corrupted — worship 
dying  out,  and  preaching  abolished.  .  .  .  Why! 
Because  all  the  revenues  of  the  churches  go  to  Rome. 
Never  would  the  Turk  himself  have  so  ruined  Italy." 

Luther  next  turns  to  his  countrymen : 

"  And  now  that  they  have  thus  sucked  the  blood  of 
their  own  country,  they  come  into  Germany.  They 
begin  gently;  but  let  us  be  on  our  guard.  Germany 
will  soon  become  like  Italy.  We  have  already  some 
cardinals.  Their  thought  is — before  the  rustic  Ger- 
mans comprehend  our  design  they  will  have  neither 
bishopric,  nor  convent,  nor  benefice,  nor  jjenny,  nor 
farthing.  Antichrist  must  possess  the  treasures  of  the 
earth.  Thirty  or  forty  cardinals  will  be  elected  in  a 
single  day;  to  one  will  be  given  Bamberg,  to  another 
the  duchy  of   AVurzbm'g,  and  rich  benefices  will  be 


annexed,  until  the  churches  and  cities  are  laid  desolate. 
And  then  the  pope  will  say:  'I  am  the  vicar  of  Christ, 
and  the  pastor  of  llis  flocks.  Let  the  Germans  bo 
resigned.'" 

Luther's  indignation  rises : 

"  How  do  we  Germans  submit  to  such  robbery  and 
concussion  on  the  part  of  the  pope  ?  If  Franco  has 
successfully  resisted,  why  do  we  allow  ourselves  to  be 
thus  sported  with  and  insulted  ?  Ah  !  if  they  deprived 
us  of  nothing  but  our  goods.  But  they  ravage 
churches,  plunder  the  sheep  of  Christ,  abolish  the 
worship,  and  suppress  the  Word  of  God." 

Lutiier  then  exposes  the  devices  of  Rome  to  obtain 
money  and  secure  tlie  revenues  of  Germany.  Annats, 
palliums,  commendams,  administrations,  expected  fa- 
vours, incorporations,  reservations,  &c.,  all  pass  in  re- 
view. Then  he  says :  "  Let  us  endeavour  to  put  a 
stop  to  this  desolation  and  misery.  If  we  would  march 
against  the  Turks,  let  us  begin  with  the  worst  species 
of  them.  If  we  hang  pickpockets,  and  behead  robbers, 
let  us  not  allow  Roman  avarice  to  escape — avarice, 
which  is  the  gi-eatest  of  all  thieves  and  robbei-s ;  and 
that,  too,  in  the  name  of  St.  Peter  and  Jesus  Christ. 
Who  can  endure  it  ?  Who  can  be  silent "?  Is  not  all 
that  the  pope  possesses  stolen  ?  He  neither  pui-chased 
it  nor  inherited  it  from  St.  Peter,  nor  acquired  it  by 
the  sweat  of  his  own  brow.  Where,  then,  did  he  get 
it?" 

Luther  proposes  remedies  for  all  these  cvik,  and 
energetically  arouses  the  Gorman  nobility  to  put  an  end 
to  Roman  depredation.  He  next  comes  to  the  reform 
of  the  pope  himself.  "  Is  it  not  ridiculous,"  says  he, 
"  that  the  pope  should  pretend  to  be  the  lawful  heir  of 
the  empire  ?  Who  gave  it  to  him  ?  A\''as  it  Jesus 
Christ,  when  He  said :  The  Lings  of  the  earth  exercise 
lordship  over  them ;  hut  it  shall  not  he  so  with  you  / 
(Luke  xxii.  25,  2G.)  How  can  he  govern  an  empire, 
and  at  the  same  time  preach,  pray,  stuily,  and  take 
care  of  the  poor  ?  Jesus  Cliri-t  lulil  His  disciples 
to  carry  with  them  gold  or  olnihi -.  li.  -uim'  ihe  ottice 
of  the  ministry  cannot  be  perl'oninil  w  ill mut  freedom 
from  every  other  care  ;  yet  the  pope  woidd  govern  the 
empire,  and  at  the  same  time  remain  pope."     .     .     . 

Luther  continues  to  strip  the  sovereign  pontiff  of  his 
spoils.  "  Let  the  pope  renounce  every  species  of  title 
to  the  kingdom  of  Naples  and  Sicily.  He  has  no  more 
right  to  it  than  I  have.  His  possession  of  Bologna, 
Imola,  Ravenna,  Romagna,  Marche  d'Ancona,  &c.,  is 
unjust,  and  contrary  to  the  commands  of  Jesus  Chi'ist. 
No  man,  says  St.  Paul,  who  r/oeth  a  warfare  entanyleth 
himself  li'ith  the  affairs  of  this  'life,  (2  Tim.  ii.  2.)  And 
the  pope,  who  pretends  to  take  the  lead  in  the  war  of 
the  Gospel,  entangles  himself  more  with  the  affairs  of 
this  life  than  any  emperor  or  king.  He  must  be  dis- 
encumbered of  all  this  toil.  The  emperor  should  put  a 
Bible  and  a  prayer-book  into  the  hands  of  the  pope, 
that  the  pope  may  leave  kings  to  govern,  and  devote 
himself  to  preaching  and  prayer." 

Luther  is  as  averse  to  the  pope's  ecclesiastical  power 
in  Germany  iis  to  his  temporal  power  in  Italy.  "The 
first  thing  necessary  is  to  banish  from  all  the  countries 
of  Germany  the  legates  of  the  pope  and  the  pretended 
blessings  which  they  sell  us  at  the  weight  of  gold,  and 
which  are  sheer  imposture.     They  take  our  money; 


160 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


and  why?  for  legalizing  ill-gotten  gain,  for  loosing 
oaths,  and  teaching  us  to  break  faith,  to  sin,  and  go 
dii-ect  to  hell.  .  ,  .  Hearest  then,  O  pope ! — not 
pope  most  holy,  but  pope  most  sinful.  .  .  .  May 
God,  from  His  place  in  heaven,  cast  down  thy  throne 
into  the  infernal  abyss  ! " 

The  Christian  tribune  pursues  his  course.  After  cit- 
ing the  pope  to  his  bar,  he  cites  all  the  abuses  in  the 
Li'aiu  of  the  papacy,  and  endeavours  to  sweep  away 
from  the  Church  all  the  rubbish  by  which  it  is  encum- 
bered.    He  begins  with  the  monks : 

"  And  now  I  come  to  a  lazy  band,  which  promises 
much,  but  performs  little.  Be  not  angry,  dear  su\s, 
my  intention  is  good ;  what  I  have  to  say  is  a  truth  at 
once  sweet  and  bitter, — viz.,  that  it  is  no  longer  neces- 
sary to  build  cloistei-s  for  mendicant  monks.  Good 
God !  we  have  only  too  many  of  them ;  and  would  they 
were  all  suppressed.  ...  To  wander  vagabond 
over  the  count)  y,  never  has  done,  and  never  will  do 
good." 

The  marriage  of  ecclesiastics  comes  next  in  course. 
It  is  the  first  occasion  on  which  Luther  speaks  of  it : 

'■  Into  what  a  state  have  the  clergy  fallen,  and  how 
many  priests  are  burdened  with  women,  and  children, 
and  remorse,  while  no  one  comes  to  their  assistance ! 
Let  the  pope  and  the  bishops  run  their  course,  and  let 
those  who  will  go  to  perdition  ;  all  very  well !  but  I  am 
resolved  to  unburden  my  conscience,  and  open  my 
mouth  freely,  however  pope,  bishops,  and  othei-s,  may 
be  offended !  .  .  .  I  say,  then,  that  according  to 
the  institution  of  Jesus  Chi-ist  and  the  apostles,  every 
town  ought  to  have  a  pastor  or  bishop,  and  that  this 
pastor  may  have  a  wife,  as  St.  Paul  writes  to  Timothy: 
Let  the  hishop  he  the  hmband  of  one  vife,  (1  Tim.  iii.  2,) 
and  as  is  still  iirai-ti>u(l  in  tli."  Cw^k  Cliinvh.  But  the 
devil  has  pLT>u.i^l.-.!  th.'  \u.y..  a.  Si.  Paul  trlls  Timothy, 
(1  Tim.  iv.  1-.;.)  to  torlu.l  ih.-  dn-v  in  marry.  And 
hence  evils  so  iiuun--ruus  that  it  is  impossible  to  give 
them  in  detail.  What  is  to  be  done  i  How  are  we  to 
save  the  many  pastors  who  are  blameworthy  only  in 
tin's,  that  they  live  with  a  female,  to  whom  they  wish 
with  all  their  heart  to  be  lawfully  united  ?  Ah !  let 
them  save  their  conscience ! — let  them  take  this  woman 
in  lawfid  wedlock,  and  live  decently  with  her,  not 
troubling  themselves  whether  it  plesises  or  displeases 
the  pope.  The  salvation  of  your  soul  is  of  greater 
moment  than  arbitrary  and  tyrannical  laws — laws  not 
imposed  by  the  Lord." 

In  this  way  the  Reformation  sought  to  restore  purity 
of   morals  within   the   Chiu'ch.     The  reformer  con- 

"Let  feast-days  be  abolished,  and  let  Sunday  only 
be  kept ;  or,  if  it  is  deemed  proper  to  keep  the  great 
Christian  festivals,  let  them  be  celebrated  in  the  morn- 
ing, and  let  the  remainder  of  the  day  be  a  working-day 
as  usual.  For,  by  the  ordinary  mode  of  spending  them 
in  di'inking,  and  gaming,  and  committing  all  sorts  of 
sins,  or  in  mere  idleness,  God  is  offended  on  festivals 
much  more  than  on  other  days." 

He  afterwards  attacks  the  dedioatitms  of  churches, 
(which  he  describes  as  mere  ia\  (  iii> ; )  and  after  them 
fasts  and  fraternities.  He  lU-iir-  imt  mily  to  suppress 
abuses,  but  also  to  put  an  end  lu  schisms.  "It  is 
tune,"  says  he,   "  to  take  the  ctise  of  the  Bohemians 


into  serious  consideration,  that  hatred  and  envy  may 
cease,  and  union  be  again  established."  He  proposes 
excellent  methods  of  conciliation,  and  adds :  "  In  this 
way  must  heretics  be  refuted  by  Scripture,  as  the 
ancient  Fathers  did,  and  not  subdued  by  fire.  On  a 
contrary  system,  executioners  would  be  the  most 
learned  of  all  doctors.  Oh !  would  to  God  that  each 
party  among  us  woidd  shake  hands  with  each  other  in 
fraternal  humility,  rather  than  harden  om-selves  iu  the 
idea  of  our  power  and  right !  Charity  is  more  neces- 
sary than  the  Roman  papacy.  I  have  now  done  what 
was  in  my  power.  If  the  pope  or  his  people  oppose  it, 
they  will  have  to  give  an  account.  The  pope  should 
be  ready  to  renounce  the  popedom,  and  all  his  wealth, 
and  all  his  honours,  if  he  could  thereby  save  a  single 
soul.  But  he  would  see  the  universe  go  to  destruction 
sooner  than  yield  a  hair-breadth  of  his  usm-ped  power. 
I  am  clear  of  these  things." 

Luther  next  comes  to  universities  and  schools: 

"I  much  fear  the  uuiwr.-iiir-  w  ill  liccome  wide  gates 
to  hell,  if  due  care  is  nut  lak.  ii  tn  i\ plain  the  Holy 
Scriptures,  and  engrave  it  ou  the  Iiearts  of  the  students. 
My  advice  to  every  person  is,  not  to  place  his  child 
where  the  Scripture  does  uot  reign  paramount.  Every 
institution  in  which  the  studies  carried  on  lead  to  a 
relaxed  consideration  of  the  Word  of  God,  must  prove 
corrupting, — a  weighty  sentiment,  which  governments, 
literary  men,  and  parents  in  all  ages,  would  do  well 
to  ponder." 

Towards  the  end  of  his  address  he  rettirns  to  llie 
empire  and  the  empei-or : 

"  The  popes,"  says  he,  "  unable  to  lead  the  ancient 
masters  of  the  Roman  empire  at  will,  resolved  on 
wresting  their  title  and  theu-  empire  from  them,  and 
giving  it  to  us  Germans.  This  tlivy  arcoi]i|ili>li(.'(l,  and 
we  have  become  bondmen  to  the  ]"i|"'.  I'"i-  the  pope 
has  possessed  himself  of  Rome,  ami  Immiil  the  emperor 
by  oath  never  to  I'eside  iu  it ;  and  the  cuusuipiL'ace  is, 
that  the  emperor  is  the  emperor  of  Rome  without  liav- 
ing  Rome.  We  have  the  name;  the  pope  has  the 
coimtry  and  its  cities.  We  have  the  title  and  the 
insignia  of  empire ;  the  pope  its  treasury,  power,  privi- 
leges, and  freedom.  The  pope  eats  the  fruit,  and  we 
amuse  ourselves  with  the  husk.  In  this  way  our 
simplicity  has  always  been  abused  by  the  pride  and 
tyranny  of  the  Romans. 

"  But  now,  may  God,  who  has  given  us  such  an  em- 
pire, be  om-  aid !  Let  us  act  conformably  to  our  name, 
our  title,  our  insignia ;  let  us  save  our  freedom,  and  give 
the  Romans  to  know,  that  through  their  hands  it  was 
committed  to  us  by  God.  They  boast  of  having  given 
us  an  empire.  Very  well !  let  us  take  what  belongs  to 
us.  Let  the  pope  surrender  Rome,  and  every  part  of 
the  empire  that  he  possesses.  Let  liim  put  an  end  to 
his  taxes  and  extortions.  Let  him  restore  o.ir  liberty, 
our  power,  our  wealth,  our  honour,  our  soul,  and  our 
body.  Let  the  empire  be  all  that  an  empu-e  ought  to 
be ;  and  let  the  sword  of  princes  no  longer  be  com- 
pelled to  lower  itself  before  the  hypocritical  pretensions 
of  a  pope." 

In  these  words  there  is  not  only  energy  and  elo- 
quence, but  also  sound  argument.  Never  did  orator 
so  speak  to  the  nobility  of  the  empii-e,  and  to  the 
emperor  himself.     Far  from  being  surprised  that  so 


RESULTS  OF  LUTHER'S  ADDRESS. 


161 


many  Germnn  states  rc\-olted  from  Rome,  we  should 
rather  wonder  that  all  Germany  did  not  proceed  to  the 
banks  of  the  Tiber,  and  there  resume  that  imperial 
power,  the  insignia  of  which  the  popes  had  imprudently 
placed  on  the  head  of  their  chief. 

Luther  thus  concludes  Ills  iutrepid  address: 

"  I  presume,  however,  that  I  have  struck  too  high 
a  note,  proposed  many  things  that  will  appear  impos- 
sible, and  been  somewhat  too  severe  on  the  many 
errors  which  I  have  attacked.  But  what  can  I  do? 
Better  that  the  world  be  oifended  with  me  than  God  ! 
.  .  .  The  utmost  which  it  can  take  from  me  is  life. 
I  have  often  offered  to  make  peace  with  my  opponents, 
but,  through  their  instrumentality,  God  has  always 
obliged  me  to  speak  out  against  them.  I  have  still  a 
chant  upon  Rome  in  resei-ve ;  and  if  they  have  an 
itching  car,  I  will  sing  it  to  them  at  full  pitch.  Rome ! 
do  ye  understand  me  ?"  .  .  .  It  is  probable  that 
Luther  here  refers  to  a  treatise  on  the  papacy  which 
he  was  preparing  for  publication,  but  which  never  was 
published.  Rector  Burkhardt,  writing  at  this  time  to 
Spenglcr,  says :  "  There  is,  moreover,  a  short  tract, 
'De  Execranda  Venere  Ronianorum;'  but  it  is  kept 
in  reserve."  The  title  of  the  work  seems  to  intimate 
something  which  would  ha^-e  given  great  offence  ;  and 
it  is  pleasing  to  think  that  Luther  had  moderation  not 
to  publish  it. 

"If  my  cause  is  just,"  continues  he,  "it  must  be 
condemned  on  the  earth,  and  justified  only  by  Ckrist 
in  heaven.  Therefore  let  pope,  bisheps,  priests, 
monks,  doctors,  come  foi-ward,  display  all  their  zeal,  and 
give  full  vent  to  their  fmy.  Assiu-edly  they  are  just 
the  people  who  ought  to  persecute  the  truth,  as  in  all 
ages  they  have  persecuted  it." 

■\\niere  did  this  monk  obtain  this  clear  knowledge  of 
public  affairs,  which  even  the  states  of  the  empire 
often  find  it  so  difficult  to  luiravel?  Whence  did  this 
German  derive  this  courage,  which  enables  him  to  hold 
up  liLs  head  among  his  countrymen,  who  had  been 
enslaved  for  so  many  ages,  and  deal  such  severe  blows 
to  the  papacy?  By  what  mysterious  energy  is  he  ani- 
mated? Does  it  not  seem  that  he  must  have  heard 
the  words  which  God  addressed  to  one  of  ancient 
times? — Lo!  I  have  strengthened  thy  face  against  their 
faces;  I  have  made  thj  forehead  like  a  diamond,  and 
harder  than  flint;  he  not,  then,  afraid  because  of  them. 

This  exhortation,  being  addressed  to  the  German 
nobility,  was  soon  in  the  hands  of  all  those  for  whom 
it  was  intended.  It  spread  over  Germany  with  incon- 
ceivable rapidity.  Luther's  friends  trembled;  while 
Staupitz,  and  those  who  wished  to  follow  gentle 
methods,  thought  the  blow  too  severe.  "  In  oiu-  days," 
replied  Luther,  "  whatever  is  treated  calmly  falls  into 
oblivion,  and  nobody  cares  for  it."  At  the  same  time 
he  displayed  extraordinary  simplicity  and  humility. 
He  was  unconscious  of  his  own  powers.  "I  know 
not,"  writes  he,  "what  to  say  of  myself;  perhaps  I  am 
the  precursor  of  Philip  (Melancthon.)  Like  Elias,  I 
am  preparing  the  way  for  him,  in  spirit  and  in  power, 
that  he  may  one  day  trouble  Israel  and  the  house  of 
Ahab."  But  there  was  no  occasion  to  wait  for  any 
other  than  he  who  ha<l  appeared.  The  house  of  Ahab 
was  already  shaken.  The  "Address  to  the  German 
Nobility,"  was  published  on  the  26th  of  Jime,  1520; 


and  in  a  short  time  4000  copies  were  sold, — a  number, 
at  that  period,  unprecedented.  The  astonishment  was 
universal,  and  the  whole  people  were  in  commotion. 
The  \'igonr,  spirit,  perspicuity,  and  noble  boldness  by 
which  it  Wiis  pervaded,  made  it  truly  a  work  for  the 
people,  who  felt  that  one  who  spoke  in  such  terms 
truly  loved  them.  The  confused  views  which  many 
wise  men  entertained  were  enlightened.  All  became 
aware  of  the  usurpations  of  Rome.  At  "Wittemberg 
no  man  had  any  doubt  whatever  that  the  pope  was 
Antichrist.  Even  the  elector's  coiu-t,  with  all  its 
timidity  and  circumspection,  did  not  disapprove  of  the 
reformer,  but  only  awaited  the  issue.  The  nobility 
and  the  people  did  not  even  wait.  The  nation  was 
awakened,  and,  at  the  voice  of  Luther,  adopted  his 
cause,  and  rallied  around  his  standard.  Nothing 
could  have  been  more  advantageous  to  the  reformer 
than  this  publication.  In  palaces,  in  castles,  in  the 
dwellings  of  the  citizens,  and  even  in  cottages,  all  are 
now  prepared,  and  made  proof,  as  it  were,  against  the 
sentence  of  condemnation  which  is  about  to  fall  upon 
the  prophet  of  the  people.  All  Germany  is  on  fire; 
and  the  bull,  come  when  it  may,  never  will  extinguish 
the  conflagration. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Preparations  at  Rome— Motives  to  Resist  the  Papacy— Eck  at  Rome— Eck 
gains  the  Day — The  Pope  is  the  World — God  produces  the  Separation — 
A  Swiss  Priest  pleads  for  Luther— The  Roman  Consistory— Preamble  of 
the  Bull— Condemnation  of  Luther. 

At  Rome  everything  necessary  for  the  condemnation 
of  the  defender  of  the  liberty  of  the  Chiu-ch  was 
prepared.  Men  had  long  lived  there  in  arrogant 
security.  The  monks  of  Rome  had  long  accused  Leo 
X.  of  devoting  himself  to  luxury  and  pleasirre,  and  of 
spending  his  whole  time  in  hunting,  theatricals,  and 
music,  while  the  Church  was  crumbling  to  pieces.  At 
last,  through  the  clamour  of  Dr.  Eck,  who  had  come 
from  Leipsic  to  invoke  the  power  of  the  Vatican,  the 
pope,  the  cardinals,  the  monks,  all  Rome  awoke  and 
bestirred  themselves  to  save  the  papacy. 

Rome,  in  fact,  was  obliged  to  adopt  the  severest 
measures.  The  gauntlet  had  been  thrown  down,  and 
the  combat  was  destined  to  be  mortal.  Luther  attacked 
not  the  abuses  of  the  Roman  pontificate,  but  the  pon- 
tificate itself.  At  his  bidding  the  pope  was  humbly  to 
descend  from  his  throne,  and  again  become  a  simple 
pastor  or  bishop  on  the  banks  of  the  Tiber.  All  the 
dignitaries  of  the  Roman  hierarchy  were  required  to 
renounce  their  riches  and  worldly  glory,  and  again  be- 
come elders  or  deacons  of  the  churches  of  Italy.  All 
the  splendour  and  power  which  had  for  ages  dazzled 
the  West,  behoved  to  vanish  away  and  give  place  to  the 
humble  and  simple  worship  of  the  primitive  Christians. 
These  things  God  could  have  done,  and  will  one  day 
do;  but  they  were  not  to  be  expected  from  men. 
Even  should  a  pope  have  been  disinterested  enough, 
and  bold  enough  to  attempt  the  overthrow  of  the 
ancient  and  sumptuous  edifice  of  the  Romish  Church, 
thousands  of  priests  and  bishops  would  have  rushed 


HISTORY  OP  THE  EEFORMATION. 


forward  to  its  support.  The  pope  had  received  power 
under  the  express  condition  of  maintaining  whatever 
was  entrusted  to  him.  Eome  deemed  herself  appointed 
of  God  to  govern  the  Church;  and  no  wonder,  therefore, 
that  she  was  prepared,  with  this  view,  to  adopt  the 
most  decisive  measures.  And  yet,  at  the  outset,  she 
did  show  hesitation.  Several  cardinals  and  the  pope 
himself  were  averse  to  severe  proceedings.  Leo  had 
too  much  sagacity  not  to  be  aware  that  a  decision,  the 
enforcement  "of  which  depended  on  the  very  dubious 
inclinations  of  the  civU  power,  might  seriously  com- 
promise the  authority  of  the  Chm-ch.  He  saw,  more- 
over, that  the  violent  methods  already  resorted  to  had 
only  increased  the  evil.  "Is  it  impossible  to  gain 
this  Saxon  monk?"  asked  the  politicians  of  Eome. 
''  Would  all  the  power  of  the  Chm-ch,  and  all  the  wiles 
of  Italy,  be  ineffectual  for  this  purpose?  Negotiation 
must  still  be  attempted." 

Eck  accordingly  encountered  formidable  obstacles. 
He  neglected  nothing  to  prevent  what  he  termed 
impious  concessions.  Going  uj)  and  down  Eome,  he 
gave  vent  to  his  rage,  and  cried  for  vengeance.  The 
fanatical  faction  of  the  monks  having  immediately 
leagued  with  him,  he  felt  strong  in  tliis  alliance,  and 
proceeded  with  new  corn-age  to  importune  the  pope 
and  the  cardmals.  According  to  him,  all  attempts  at 
concUiatiou  were  useless.  "  The  idea  of  it,"  said  he, 
"is  only  the  vain  di-eam  of  those  who  slumber  at  a 
distance  from  the  scene."  But  he  knew  the  danger; 
for  he  had  wi-estled  with  the  audacious  monk.  The 
thing  necessary  was  to  amputate  the  gangi-ened  limb, 
and  so  prevent  the  disease  from  attacking  the  whole 
body.  The  blustering  disputant  of  Leipsic  solves  ob- 
jections one  after  another,  and  endeavom-s,  but  finds  it 
difficult,  to  persuade  the  pope.  He  wishes  to  save 
Eome  in  spite  of  herself.  Sparing  no  exertion,  he 
spent  whole  hours  in  deliberation  in  the  cabinet  of  the 
pontiff,  and  made  application  both  to  the  com-t  and  the 
cloisters,  to  the  people  and  the  Church.  "Eck  is 
calling  to  the  depth  of  depths  against  me,"  said  Luther, 
"  and  setting  on  fire  the  forests  of  Lebanon."  At 
length  he  succeeded.  The  fanatics  in  the  councils  of 
the  papacy  vanquished  the  politicians.  Leo  gave  way, 
and  Luther's  condemnation  was  resolved.  Eck  began 
again  to  breathe ;  and  his  pride  felt  gi-atified  by  the 
thought  that  his  own  efforts  had  procured  the  ruin  of 
his  heretical  rival,  and  thereby  saved  the  Chm-ch.  "  It 
was  well,"  said  he,  "  that  I  came  to  Eome  at  this  time, 
for  little  was  known  of  Luther's  errors.  It  will  one 
day  be  seen  how  much  I  have  done  in  this  cause." 

No  one  exerted  himself  so  much  in  seconding  Dr. 
Eck  as  the  master  of  the  sacred  palace,  Sylvester 
Mazzolini  de  Frierio,  who  had  just  published  a  work, 
in  which  he  maintained,  that  not  only  to  the  pope  alone 
appertained  the  infallible  decision  of  all  debateable 
points,  but  also  that  papal  ascendancy  was  the  fifth 
monarchy  of  Daniel,  and  the  only  true  monarchy;  that 
the  pope  was  the  prince  of  all  ecclesiastical,  and  the 
father  of  aU  secular  princes,  the  cliief  of  the  world, 
and  even  in  substance  the  world  itself.  In  another 
writing  he  atfiiined,  that  the  pope  is  as  much  superior 
to  the  emperor  as  gold  is  to  lead ;  that  the  pope  can 
appoint  and  depose  emperors  and  electors,  establish 
and  annul  x^ositive  rights;  and  that  the  emperor,  with 


aU  the  laws  and  all  the  nations  of  Christendom,  cannot 
decide  the  smallest  matter  contrary  to  the  pope's  wUl. 
Such  was  the  voice  wliich  came  forth  from  the  palace 
of  the  sovereign  pontiff — such  the  monstrous  fiction 
which,  in  union  with  scholastic  dogmas,  aimed  at  sup- 
pressing reviving  truth.  Had  this  fiction  not  been 
immasked,  as  it  has  been,  and  that  even  by  learned 
msmbers  of  the  Catholic  Church,  there  would  have 
been  neither  true  history  nor  true  religion.  The  papacy 
is  not  merely  a  lie  in  regard  to  the  Bible,  it  is  also  a 
lie  in  regard  to  the  annals  of  nations.  And  hence  the 
Reformation,  by  destroying  its  fascinating  power,  has 
emancipated  not  only  the  Chiu-ch,  but  also  kings  and 
nations.  The  Eeformation  has  been  desci-ibed  as  a 
political  work ;  and  in  this  secondary  sense  it  truly 
was  so. 

Thus  God  sent  a  spirit  of  delusion  on  the  doctors  of 
Eome.  The  separation  between  truth  and  error  must 
now  be  accomplished,  and  it  is  to  error  that  the  task  is 
assigned.  Had  a  compromise  been  entered  into,  it 
must  have  been  at  the  expense  of  truth ;  for  to  mutilate 
truth  in  the  slightest  degree,  is  to  pave  the  way  for  her 
complete  annihilation.  Like  the  insect  which  is  said  to 
die  on  the  loss  of  one  of  its  antenna;,  she  must  be  com- 
plete in  aU  her  parts,  in  order  to  display  the  energy 
which  enables  her  to  gain  great  and  advantageous 
victories,  and  propagate  herself  through  coming  ages. 
To  mingle  any  portion  of  error  with  truth,  is  to  throw 
a  gi-ain  of  poison  into  a  large  dish  of  food.  The  grain 
suffices  to  change  its  whole  nature,  and  death  ensues 
slowly,  it  may  be,  but  yet  sm-ely.  Those  who  defend 
the  doctrine  of  Christ  against  the  attacks  of  its  adver- 
saries, keep  as  jealous  an  eye  on  its  farthest  outposts 
as  on  the  citadel  itself;  for  the  moment  the  enemy 
gains  any  footing  at  all,  he  is  on  the  highway  to  con- 
quest. "The  Eoman  pontiff  determined,  at  the  period  of 
which  we  now  treat,  to  rend  the  Chm-ch ;  and  the 
fragment  which  remained  in  his  hand,  how  splendid 
soever  it  may  be,  in  vain  endeavom-s  under  pompous 
ornaments  to  hide  the  deleterious  principle  by  which  it 
is  attacked.  It  is  only  where  the  Word  of  God  is  that 
there  is  life.  Luther,  however  great  his  courage  was, 
would  probably  have  been  silent  had  Eome  been  so, 
and  made  some  faint  show  of  concession.  But  God 
did  not  leave  the  Eeformation  to  depend  on  a  weak 
human  heart.  Luther  was  under  the  guidance  of  a 
clearer  intellect  than  his  own.  The  pope  was  the 
instrument  in  the  hand  of  Providence  to  sever  every 
tie  between  the  past  and  the  future ;  and  laimch  the 
reformer  on  a  new,  unknown,  and  to  liim  micertain 
career ;  and  the  difficult  avenues  to  which  he  would,  if 
left  to  himself,  have  been  unable  to  find.  The  papal 
bull  was  a  writing  of  divorce,  sent  from  Eome  to  the 
pure  Church  of  Jesus  Christ,  as  personified  in  him  who 
was  then  her  humble  but  faithful  representative.  And 
the  Church  accepted  the  writing,  on  the  imderstanding 
that  she  was  thenceforth  to  depend  on  none  but  her 
heavenly  Head. 

While  at  Eome  Luther's  condemnation  was  urged 
forward  with  so  much  violence,  a  humble  priest, 
dwelling  in  one  of  the  humble  towns  of  Helvetia,  and 
who  had  never  had  any  correspondence  with  the  refor- 
mer, was  deeply  moved  when  he  thought  of  the  blow 
which  was  aimed  at  him ;  while  even  the  friends  of  the 


THE  PAPAL  BULL. 


163 


Wittemberg  doctor  trembled  iu  silence,  this  mountaineer 
of  Switzerland  resolved  to  employ  every  means  to  stay 
the  formidable  bull.  His  name  was  Ulrich  Zwingle. 
William  des  Faucons,  who  was  secretary  to  the  papal 
legate  iu  Switzerland,  and  managed  the  affairs  of 
Rome  during  the  legate's  absence,  was  his  friend,  and 
a  few  days  before  had  said  to  him  :  '•  While  I  live  you 
may  calculate  on  obtaining  from  mo  everything  tliat  a 
true  friend  can  be  expected  to  give."  The  Helvetian 
priest,  trusting  to  tliis  declaration,  repaired  to  tlic 
Roman  embassy.  This,  at  least,  may  be  inferred  from 
one  of  his  letters.  For  himself  lie  had  no  fear  of  the 
dangers  to  which  evangelical  f.iidi  CNpoiJcd  him,  know- 
ing that  a  disciple  of  Jesus  (  In  I-i  mn-i  always  be  ready 
to  sacrifice  his  life.  "All  1  a-k  ni  Cliiist  for  myself," 
said  he  to  a  friend  to  whuiu  he  was  unbosoming  his 
solicitude  on  Luther's  account, — ''  all  I  ask  is  to  be  able 
to  bear  like  a  man  whatever  evils  await  me.  I  am  a 
vessel  of  clay  iu  His  hands.  Let  Him  break  or  let 
Him  strengthen  me,  as  seemcth  to  Him  good."  But  the 
Swiss  evangelist  had  fears  for  the  Christian  Church, 
shoidd  this  formidable  blow  reach  the  reformer;  and 
he  endeavoured  to  persuade  the  representative  of  Rome 
to  enlighten  the  pope,  and  employ  all  the  means  in  his 
power  to  prevent  him  from  launching  an  excommunica- 
tion at  Luther.  ''  The  dignity  of  the  holy  see  itself," 
said  he  to  him,  "  is  here  at  stake ;  for  if  mattei-s  are 
brought  to  such  a  point,  Germany,  in  the  height  of  her 
enthusiasm  for  the  Gospel  and  for  its  preacher,  will 
despise  the  pope  and  his  anathemas."  The  efforts  of 
Zwingle  were  in  vain.  It  appears,  indeed,  that  when 
he  was  making  them,  the  blow  had  already  been  struck. 
Such  was  the  iirst  occasion  on  which  the  paths  of  the 
Saxon  doctor  and  the  Swiss  priest  met.  The  latter  we 
will  again  meet  with  in  the  course  of  this  history,  and 
will  see  him  gradually  expanding  and  growing,  until  he 
obtain  a  high  standing  iu  the  Church  of  the  Lord. 

After  Luther's  condemnation  was  at  last  resolved 
upon,  new  difficulties  arose  in  the  consistory.  The 
theologians  wished  to  proceed  at  once  to  fulminatiou, 
whereas  the  lawyers  were  for  beginning  with  a  citation, 
asking  their  theological  colleagues  :  "  Was  not  Adam 
first  cited?  Adam,  v/iere  art  thou?  said  the  Lord.  It 
was  the  same  with  Cain,  the  question  asked  at  him 
was.  Where  is  thy  brother,  Abel?"  These  strange  argu- 
ments, drawn  from  Scripture,  the  canonists  strengthened 
by  appealing  to  the  principles  of  the  law  of  nature. 
"The  certainty  of  a  crime,"  said  they,  "cannot  deprive 
the  criminal  of  his  right  of  defence."  It  is  pleasing  to 
find  a  sense  of  justice  still  existing  in  a  Roman  con- 
sistory. But  these  scruples  did  not  suit  the  theologians, 
who,  hurried  on  by  passion,  thought  only  of  proceeding 
to  business  with  despatch.  It  was  at  length  agreed 
that  the  doctrine  of  Luther  should  be  immediately  con- 
demned, and  that  a  period  of  sixty  days  should  be 
gi'anted  to  him  and  his  adherents  ;  after  which,  provided 
they  did  not  retract,  they  should  all  be,  ijyso  facto, 
excommunicated.  De  Vio,  who  had  returned  from 
Germany  in  ill  health,  was  carried  to  the  meeting,  that 
he  might  not  lose  this  little  triumph,  which  carried 
with  it  some  degi-ee  of  consolation.  Having  been 
defeated  at  Augsburg,  he  longed  to  be  able  at  Rome  to 
condemn  the  invincible  monk,  before  wliom  his  know- 
ledge, finesse,  and  authority  had  proved  imavaiUug. 


Luther  not  being  there  to  reply,  De  Vio  felt  himself 
strong.  A  last  conference,  which  Eck  attended,  was 
held  in  presonce  of  the  pope  himself,  in  his  villa  at 
Jlalliuno.  On  the  15th  of  June  the  sacred  college 
resolved  on  coudcmnation,  and  approved  of  the  famous 
bull. 

"Arise,  O  Lord!"  said  the  Roman  pontiff,  speaking 
at  this  solemn  moment  as  vicar  of  God  and  head  of  the 
Church, — "  arise  and  be  judge  iu  tliy  own  cause.  Re- 
member the  insults  daily  offered  to  thee  by  infatuated 
men.  Arise,  O  Peter ! — remember  thy  holy  Roman 
Church,  the  mother  of  all  churches,  and  mistress  of  the 
faith !  Arise,  O  Paul !  for  here  is  a  new  Porphyry, 
who  is  attacking  thy  doctrines,  and  the  holy  popes,  our 
predecessors !  Arise,  in  fine,  assembly  of  all  the  saints, 
holy  Church  of  God,  and  intercede  with  the  Almighty!" 

The  pope  afterwards  quotes  as  pernicious,  scandalous, 
and  poisonous,  forty-one  propositions  in  which  Luther 
had  expounded  the  holy  doctrine  of  the  Gospel.  Among 
these  propositions  we  find  the  following : — 

"  To  deny  that  sin  remains  in  an  infant  after  baptism, 
is  to  trample  St.  Paul  and  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  imder 
foot." 

"  A  new  life  is  the  best  and  noblest  penance." 

"  To  bui-n  heretics  is  contrary  to  the  will  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,"  &c. 

"  The  moment  this  bull  is  published,"  continued  the 
pope,  "it  will  be  the  duty  of  the  bishops  to  make  care- 
ful search  for  the  writings  of  Martin  Luther,  which 
contain  these  errors,  and  to  burn  them  publicly  and 
solemnly  in  presence  of  the  clergy  and  laity.  In  regard 
to  Martin  himself,  good  God !  what  have  we  not  done  I 
Imitating  the  goodness  of  the  Almighty,  we  are  ready, 
even  yet,  to  receive  him  into  the  bosom  of  the  Church ; 
and  we  give  him  sixty  days  to  transmit  his  retractation 
to  us  in  a  writing  scaled  by  two  prelates  ;  or,  what  ^vill 
be  more  agreeable  to  us,  to  come  to  Rome  in  person, 
that  no  doubt  may  be  entertained  as  to  his  submission. 
Meanwhile,  and  from  this  moment,  he  must  cease  to 
preach,  teach,  or  write,  and  must  deliver  his  works  to 
the  flames.  If,  in  the  space  of  sixty  days,  he  do  not 
retract,  we,  by  these  presents,  condemn  him  and  his 
adherents  as  public  and  absolute  heretics."  The  pope 
afterwards  pronounces  a  multiplicity  of  excommunica- 
tions, maledictions,  and  interdicts  against  Luther  and 
all  his  adherents,  with  injunctions  to  seize  their  persons 
and  send  them  to  Rome.  It  is  easy  to  conjecture  what 
the  fate  of  these  noble  confessors  of  the  Gospel  would 
have  been  in  the  dungeons  of  the  papacy. 

A  thunderstorm  was  thus  gathering  over  the  head 
of  Luther.  Some  had  been  able  to  persuade  themselves, 
after  Reuchlin's  affau-,  that  the  court  at  Rome  would 
not  again  make  common  cause  with  the  Dominicans 
and  the  Inquisitors.  These,  however,  were  again  in 
the  ascendant,  and  the  old  alliance  was  solemnly  re- 
newed. The  bull  was  published,  and  for  ages  the 
mouth  of  Rome  had  never  pronounced  a  sentence  of 
condemnation  without  following  it  up  with  a  death- 
blow. This  murderous  message  was  about  to  issue 
from  the  seven  hUls,  and  attack  the  Saxon  monk  in  his 
cloister.  The  moment  was  well  chosen.  There  were 
good  gi-ounds  for  supposing  that  the  new  emperor,  who, 
for  many  reasons,  was  anxious  to  obtain  the  friendship 
of  the  pope,  would  hasten  to  merit  it  by  the  sacrifice 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


of  an  obscure  monk.  Leo  X.,  tlie  cardinals,  and  all 
Kome,  were  exulting  in  the  belief  that  their  enemy 
■\vas  already  in  their  power. 


CHAPTER  V 

Wittemberg— Melancthon— His  Marriage— Catharine— Domestic  Life— Bene- 
flcenoe—GoodHumour— Christ  and  Antiquity— Labour— Love  of  Letters 
— His  Mother— ^Outbreak  among  the  Students. 

While  the  inhabitants  of  the  eternal  city  were  thus 
agitated,  more  tranquil  events  were  occurring  at  Wit- 
temberg, where  Melancthon  was  shedding  a  soft,  but 
brilliant  light.  From  1500  to  2000  hearers,  who  had 
flocked  from  Germany,  England,  the  Netherlands, 
France,  Italy,  Hungary,  and  Greece,  often  assembled 
around  him.  He  was  twenty-four  years  of  age,  and 
had  not  taken  orders.  Every  house  in  Wittemberg  was 
open  to  this  learned  and  amiable  young  professor. 
Foreign  universities,  in  particular  Ingolstadt,  were 
desirous  to  gain  him ;  and  his  Wittemberg  friends 
wished  to  get  him  married,  and  thereby  retain  him 
among  them.  Luther,  though  he  concurred  in  wishing 
that  his  dear  Philip  should  have  a  female  companion, 
declared  openly  that  he  woidd  give  no  counsel  in  the 
matter.  The  task  was  undertaken  by  others.  The 
young  doctor  was  a  frequent  visitor  of  Burgomaster 
Krapp.  The  burgomaster  was  of  an  ancient  family, 
and  had  a  daughter  named  Catharine,  remarkable  for 
the  mildness  of  her  dispositions  and  her  great  sensi- 
bility. Melancthon  was  urged  to  ask  her  in  marriage  ; 
but  the  young  scholar  was  buried  among  his  books,  and 
could  talk  of  nothing  else.  His  Greek  authors  and  his 
New  Testament  were  all  his  delight.  He  combated 
the  arguments  of  his  friends ;  but  at  length  his  consent 
was  obtained,  and  all  the  arrangements  having  been 
made  by  others,  Catharine  became  his  wife.  He  re- 
ceived her  with  great  coolness,  and  said,  with  a  sigh : 
"  God  has  willed  it ;  so  I  must  renoimce  my  studies 
and  my  delights,  to  follow  the  wishes  of  my  friends." 
Still,  he  appreciated  the  good  qualities  of  Catharine. 
"  The  disposition  and  education  of  the  girl,"  said  he, 
"  are  such  as  I  might  have  asked  God  to  give  her :  Be|m  & 
@ehs  TfKfiaipono.  She  certainly  deserved  a  better  hus- 
band." The  matter  was  settled  in  August.  The  espou- 
sals took  place  on  the  25th  of  September,  and  the  mar- 
riage was  celebrated  in  the  end  of  November.  Old 
John  Luther  and  his  wife  came  with  tlieir  daughters 
to  Wittemberg  on  the  occasion.  Many  learned  and 
distinguished  persons  were  also  present. 

The  young  bride  was  as  warm  in  her  affection  as  the 
young  professor  was  cold.  Ever  full  of  anxiety  for 
her  husband,  Catharine  took  the  alarm  the  moment  she 
saw  him  threatened  with  even  the  semblance  of  danger. 
If  Melancthon  proposed  to  take  any  step  which  might 
compromise  him,  she  urged  and  entreated  him  to  aban- 
don it.  "  On  one  of  these  occasions,"  wrote  Melanc- 
thon, "  I  was  obliged  to  yield  to  her  weakness.  .  .  . 
It  is  our  lot."  How  much  unfaithfulness  in  the  Church 
has  had  a  similar  origin  !     To  the  influence  of  Catha- 


rine ought,  perhaps,  to  be  attributed  the  timidity  and 
fears  with  which  her  husband  has  often  been  reproached. 
Catharine  was  as  fond  a  mother  as  a  wife.  She  gave 
liberally  to  the  poor.  "  0  God,  leave  me  not  in  my 
old  age,  when  my  hair  shall  begin  to  turn  grey!" 
Such  was  the  frequent  prayer  of  this  pious  and  timor- 
ous soul.  Melancthon  was  soon  won  by  the  affection 
of  his  wife.  When  he  had  tasted  the  pleasures  of 
domestic  society,  he  felt  how  sweet  they  were,  for  he 
was  of  a  nature  to  feel  them.  His  happiest  moments 
were  beside  his  Catharine  and  her  childi-en.  A  French 
traveller  having  one  day  found  the  "preceptor  of  Ger- 
many" rocking  his  infant  with  one  hand,  and  with  a 
book  in  the  other,  started  back  in  surprise ;  but  Melanc- 
thon, without  being  discomposed,  so  warmly  explained 
to  him  the  value  of  childi-en  in  the  sight  of  God,  that 
the  stranger  loft  the  house  (to  use  his  own  words) 
"  wiser  than  he  had  entered  it." 

The  marriage  of  Melancthon  gave  a  domestic  hearth 
to  the  Reformation.  There  was,  thenceforth,  in  Wit- 
temberg a  family  whose  house  was  open  to  all  those 
whom  the  principle  of  a  new  life  now  animated.  The 
concourse  of  strangers  was  immense.  Melancthon  was 
waited  on  for  a  thousand  different  affairs ;  and  his  rule 
was  never  to  deny  himself  to  anybody.  The  young 
professor  was  particularly  skilful  in  concealing  his  own 
good  deeds.  If  he  had  no  more  money,  he  secretly  car- 
ried his  silver  plate  to  some  merchant,  never  hesitating 
to  part  with  it,  provided  he  had  the  means  of  assisting 
those  who  were  in  distress.  "  Hence,"  says  his  friend, 
Camerarius,  "it  would  have  been  impossible  for  him 
to  provide  for  his  own  wants,  and  those  of  his  family, 
had  not  a  Divine  and  hidden  blessing  from  time  to 
time  furnished  him  with  the  means.  He  carried  his 
good  nature  to  an  extreme.  He  had  some  antique 
medals  of  gold  and  silver,  which  were  extremely  curi- 
ous. One  day,  when  shewing  them  to  a  stranger  who 
was  visiting  him,  Melancthon  said  :  "  Take  any  one  of 
them  you  wish." — "  I  wish  them  all,"  replied  the  stran- 
ger. "  I  confess,"  says  Philip,  "  I  was  at  first  offended 
at  the  selfishness  of  the  request ;  however,  I  gave  them 
to  him."  Melancthon's  writings  had  a  savour  of  anti- 
quity. This,  however,  did  not  prevent  them  from 
exhaling  the  sweet  savour  of  Christ,  while  it  gave  them 
an  inexpressible  charm.  There  is  not  one  of  his  letters 
to  his  friends  which  does  not  contain  some  very  apt 
allusion  to  Homer,  Plato,  Cicero,  and  Pliny;  while 
Christ  is  always  brought  forward  as  his  Master  and 
his  God.  Spalatin  had  asked  him  for  an  explanation 
of  our  Saviour's  words  :  Withoiit  me  ye  can  do  nothing, 
(John  XV.  5.)  Melancthon  refers  him  to  Luther :  Cur 
agam  gestuin  spectante  Roscio?  as  Cicero  expresses  it; 
and  then  continues :  "  This  passage  means,  that  we 
must  be  absorbed  by  Christ,  so  that  it  is  no  longer  wo 
that  act,  but  Christ  that  liveth  in  us.  As  in  His  per- 
son the  Divine  has  been  incorporated  with  the  human 
nature,  so  must  man  be  incorporated  with  Jesus  Christ 
by  faith." 

The  distinguished  scholar's  habit  was  to  go  to  bed 
shortly  after  supper,  and  get  up  to  his  studies  at  two 
or  three  in  the  morning.  During  these  early  hours  his 
best  works  were  composed.  His  manuscripts  usually 
lay  on  his  table  exposed  to  the  view  of  all  who  came 
and  went,  so  that  several  were  stolen.     When  he  had 


MELANCTHON'S  CHARACTER  AND  HABITS. 


a  party  of  his  friends,  he  asked  one  or  other  of  them, 
before  tliey  sat  down  to  table,  to  read  some  short  com- 
position in  prose  or  verse.  During  his  journeys  he  was 
always  accompanied  by  some  young  persons,  with  whom 
lie  conversed  in  a  manner  at  once  instructive  and 
amusin"'.  If  the  conversation  flagged,  each  of  them 
had  to  repeat  in  his  tin-n  some  passage  taken  from  the 
iiiu-ient  poets.  IIo  often  had  recourse  to  irony,  but 
always  tonipennl  it  with  gi-cat  gentleness.  "  He  stings 
and  cuts,"  said  he  of  himself;  "but  still  without  doing 
any  harm." 

I'he  acquisition  of  knowledge  was  his  ruling  passion. 
The  aim  of  his  life  was  to  diffuse  literature  and  instruc- 
tion. Let  us  not  forget,  that  with  him  the  first  place 
in  literature  was  given  to  the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  only 
a  secondary  place  to  the  ancient  C'hissios.  '•  My  sole 
object,"  said  he,  "  is  the  defence  of  literature.  MVc 
must,  by  our  example,  inspire  youth  with  an  admiration 
of  literature,  and  make  them  love  it  for  itself,  and  not 
for  the  pecuniary  profit  which  it  may  be  made  to  yield. 
The  downfall  of  literature  involves  the  destruction  of 
all  that  is  good — of  religion  and  morals — of  things 
human  and  divine.  .  .  .  The  better  a  man  is,  the 
more  ardently  does  he  exert  himself  in  favoiu"  of  learn- 
ing, for  lie  knows  that  the  most  pernicious  of  all  pests 
is  ignorance." 

Some  time  after  his  marriage,  Melancthon  went  to 
Bretten,  in  the  Palatinate,  accompanied  by  Camerarius 
and  other  friends,  to  pay  a  visit  to  his  affectionate 
mother.  On  coming  in  sight  of  his  native  town,  he 
dismounted  from  his  horse,  threw  himself  on  his  knees, 
and  thanked  God  for  permitting  him  to  see  it  again. 
i\Iargaret,  on  embracing  her  son,  almost  fainted  with 
joy.  She  would  have  had  him  reside  at  Bretten ;  and 
earnestly  entreated  him  to  continue  in  the  faith  of  his 
fathers.  On  this  head  Melancthon  excused  himself, 
but  with  great  tenderness,  that  he  might  not  give 
offence  to  the  conscientious  feelings  of  his  mother.  He 
had  great  difficulty  in  parting  with  her;  and  whenever 
a  traveller  brought  him  news  of  his  native  towni,  he 
rejoiced,  to  use  his  own  expression,  as  if  he  had  re- 
newed the  joys  of  his  childhood.  Such  was  the  cha- 
racter of  one  of  the  greatest  instruments  employed  in 
the  religious  Revolution  of  the  sixteenth  century. 

The  domestic  calmness  and  studious  activity  of  Wit- 
temberg  was,  however,  disturbed  by  a  commotion,  the 
consequence  of  a  ruptm-e  which  took  place  between  the 
students  and  the  citizens.  The  rector  betrayed  great 
weakness.  One  may  suppose  how  deeply  Melancthon 
was  grieved  when  he  saw  these  disciples  of  literature 
committing  such  excesses.  Luther  felt  indignant ;  and 
had  no  idea  of  trying  to  gain  them  over  by  a  false 
condescension.  The  disgrace  which  these  disorders 
brought  upon  the  university,  stung  him  to  the  heart. 
Having  mounted  the  pulpit,  he  inveighed  in  strong 
terms  against  these  commotions,  calling  upon  both 
parties  to  submit  to  the  authorities.  His  discourse 
produced  great  irritation  :  "  Satan,"  says  he,  "  unable 
to  attack  us  from  without,  is  trying  to  do  us  mischief 
from  within.  Him  I  fear  not;  but  I  fear  lest  the 
wrath  of  God  be  kindled  against  us  for  not  having  duly 
received  His  Word.  During  the  three  last  years  I 
have  been  thrice  exposed  to  great  danger.  In  1518, 
at  Augsburg;  in  1519,  atLeipsic;  and  now,  in  1520, 


at  Wittemberg.  It  is  neither  by  wisdom  nor  by  arms 
that  the  renovation  of  the  Church  will  be  accomplished; 
but  by  humble  prayers,  and  by  an  intrepid  faith,  which 
puts  Jesus  Christ  on  our  side.  O  my  friend!  unite 
your  prayers  to  mine,  that  the  evil  spirit  may  not  be 
able,  by  means  of  this  small  spark,  to  kindle  a  vast 
conllagiation." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Tlw  Gospel  in  Iliily— Discourse  ou  Uie  Ulass-Tlio  Dabylonisli  Cnplivity  of 
thoCUnich—UapUsm— Abolition  of  Vowa— Progress  of  th«ReforniaUou. 

But  fiercer  combats  awaited  Luther.  Rome  was 
brandishing  the  sword  with  which  she  had  resolved  to 
attack  the  Gospel.  Her  threatened  sentence,  however, 
so  far  from  dispiriting  the  reformer,  increased  his  cour- 
age. The  blows  of  this  arrogant  power  gave  him 
little  concern.  He  will  himself  give  more  formidable 
blows,  and  thereby  neutralize  those  of  his  adversaries. 
While  Transalpine  consistories  are  fulminating  their 
anathemas  against  him,  he  will,  with  the  sword  of  the 
Gospel,  pierce  to  the  very  heart  of  the  Italian  states. 
Luther  having  been  informed,  by  letters  from  Venice, 
of  the  favoui-able  reception  which  had  been  given  to 
his  opinions,  felt  an  ardent  desire  to  carry  the  Gospel 
over  the  Alps.  Evangelists  must  be  found  to  transport 
it.  " I  wish,"  said  he,  '"that  we  had  living  books — I 
mean  preachers  ;  and  that  we  could  multiply  them,  and 
afford  them  protection  in  all  quarters,  in  order  that 
they  might  convey  the  knowledge  of  holy  things  to  tha 
people.  The  prince  coidd  not  do  a  work  more  worthy 
of  him.  Were  the  inhabitants  of  Italy  to  receive  the 
truth,  ovu-  cause  woiUd  be  imassailable."  It  does  not 
appear  that  this  project  of  Luther  was  realized.  It  is 
true  that,  at  a  later  period,  evangelists,  even  Calvin 
himself,  sojourned  for  awhile  in  Italy ;  but  at  this 
time  the  design  was  not  followed  out.  He  had  applied 
to  one  of  the  great  ones  of  the  earth.  Had  he  made 
his  appeal  to  men  low  in  station,  but  fidl  of  zeal  for 
the  kingdom  of  God,  the  result  might  have  been  very 
different.  The  idea  at  this  period  was,  that  everything 
behoved  to  be  done  by  governments.  The  association 
of  private  individuals,  by  which  so  much  is  now 
accomplished  in  Christendom,  was  almost  unknown. 

If  Luther  did  not  succeed  in  his  plans  of  spreading 
the  truth  in  a  distant  country,  he  Wiis  only  the  more 
zealous  in  proclaiming  it  himself.  At  this  time  his 
discoui-se  '-On  the  Holy  Mass,"  was  delivered  at 
Wittemberg.  In  it  he  inveighed  against  the  numerous 
sects  of  the  Romish  Church,  and  justly  reproached  it 
with  its  want  of  unity.  "  The  multiplicity  of  spu-itual 
laws,"  said  he,  "has  filled  the  world  with  sects  and 
divisions.  Priests,  monks,  and  laics,  have  shewn  more 
hatred  of  each  other  than  subsists  between  Christians 
and  Tm-ks.  What  do  I  say?  Priests  are  mortal 
enemies  of  priests,  and  monks  of  monks.  Each  is 
attached  to  his  particular  sect,  and  despises  all  othei-s. 
There  is  an  end  of  Christian  love  and  imity."  He  then 
attacks  the  idea  that  the  miiss  is  a  sacrifice,  and  has 
auy  efficacy  in  itself.  "  The  best  thing  in  every  sacra- 
ment, and  consequently  in  the  Supper,  is  the  word  and 


HISTORY  OF  THE  EEFORMATION. 


promises  of  God.  Without  faith  in  this  "Word  and 
these  promises,  the  sacrament  is  dead;  a  body  without 
a  soul,  a  fiagon  without  wine,  a  purse  without  money, 
a  type  without  an  antitype,  the  letter  without  the 
spirit,  a  casket  ivithout  its  diamond,  a  scabbard  with- 
out its  sword." 

Luther's  voice,  however,  was  not  confined  to  Wit- 
temberg;  and  if  he  failed  to  procure  missionaries  to 
carry  his  instructions  to  distant  lands,  God  provided 
him  with  a  missionary  of  a  new  description.  The  art 
of  printing  supplied  the  place  of  evangelists.  The 
press  was  destined  to  make  a  breach  in  the  Roman 
fortress.  Luther  had  prepared  a  mine,  the  explosion 
of  wliich  shook  the  Eoman  edifice,  to  its  very  founda- 
tions. This  was  his  famous  treatise  on  the  "  Babylonish 
Captivity  of  the  Church,"  which  appeared  6th  October, 
1520.  Never  had  man  displayed  such  courage  in  such 
critical  circumstances. 

In  this  ^vi'iting  he  first  enumerates,  with  a  kind  of 
ironical  pride,  all  the  advantages  for  which  he  is 
indebted  to  his  enemies. 

""Whether  I  will  or  not,"  says  he,  "I  daily  become 
more  learned,  spurred  on  as  I  am  by  so  many  celebrated 
masters.  Two  years  ago  I  attacked  indulgences ;  but 
with  so  much  fear  and  indecision,  that  I  am  now 
ashamed  of  it.  But,  after  all,  the  mode  of  attack  is 
not  to  be  wondered  at,  for  I  had  nobody  who  would 
help  me  to  roll  the  stone."  He  returns  thanks  to 
Prierio,  Eck,  Emser,  and  his  other  opponents,  and  con- 
tinues: "I  denied  that  the  papacy  was  of  God;  but  I 
granted  that  it  had  the  authority  of  man.  Now,  after 
reading  all  the  subtleties  by  which  these  sparks  prop 
up  their  idol,  I  know  that  the  papacy  is  only  the  king- 
dom of  Baltylon,  and  the  tyrannj'  of  the  groat  hunter, 
Nimrod.  I  therefore  beg  all  my  friends,  and  all  book- 
sellers, to  burn  the  books  which  I  wi'Ote  on  this  subject, 
and  to  substitute  for  them  the  single  proposition :  '  TIte 
napacy  is  a  general  chase,  hy  command  of  the  Roman 
pontiff,  for  the  2nirpose  of  running  down  and  destroying 
soids.' " 

Luther  afterwards  attacks  the  prevailing  errors  on 
the  sacraments,  on  monastic  vows,  &c.  The  seven 
sacraments  of  the  Church  he  reduces  to  three — viz., 
Baptism,  Penitence,  and  the  Lord's  )Supper.  He  then 
proceeds  to  baptism;  and  when  discussing  it  dwells 
especially  on  the  excellence  of  faith,  and  makes  a 
vigorous  attack  upon  Rome.  "God,"  says  he,  "has 
preserved  this  single  sacrament  to  us  clear  of  human 
traditions.  God  has  said.  Whoso  helieveth  and  is  bap- 
tized, shall  be  saved.  This  Divine  promise  must  take 
precedence  of  all  works  however  splendid,  of  all  vows, 
all  satisfactions,  all  indulgences,  all  that  man  has 
devised.  On  this  promise,  if  we  receive  it  in  faith,  all 
our  salvation  depends.  If  we  believe,  our  heart  is 
strengthened  by  the  Divine  promise;  and  though  all 
else  should  abandon  the  believer,  this  promise  will  not 
abandon  him.  "With  it  he  will  resist  the  adversary  who 
assaults  his  soul,  and  will  meet  death  though  pitiless, 
and  even  the  judgment  of  God  himself.  In  all  trials 
his  comfort  will  be  to  say,  'God  is  faithful  to  his 
promises,  and  these  were  pledged  to  me  in  baptism;  if 
God  be  for  me,  who  can  be  against  me?'  Oh,  how 
rich  the  Christian,  the  baptized!  Nothing  can  destroy 
him  but  his  own  refusal  to  believe." 


"  It  may  be  that,  to  my  observations  on  the  necessity 
of  faith,  will  be  opposed  the  baptism  of  little  childi'en. 
But  as  the  "Word  of  God  is  jjowerful  to  change  even 
the  heart  of  the  wicked,  though  neither  less  deaf  nor 
less  impotent  than  a  little  child ;  so  the  prayer  of  the 
Church,  to  which  all  things  are  possible,  changes  the 
little  child  by  means  of  the  faith  which  God  is  pleased 
to  pour  into  its  soul,  and  so  cleanses  and  renews  it." 

After  explaining  the  doctrine  of  baptism,  Luther 
emploj-s  it  as  a  weapon  against  the  papacy.  In  fact, 
if  the  Christian  finds  complete  salvation  in  the  renewal 
which  accompanies  the  baptism  of  faith,  what  need  has 
he  of  the  prescriptions  of  Rome? 

" "Wherefore,"  says  Luther,  "I  declare  that  neither 
the  pope,  nor  the  bishop,  nor  any  man  whatever,  is 
entitled  to  impose  the  smallest  burden  on  a  Christian 
— at  least  without  his  consent.  "Whatsoever  is  done 
othei-wise  is  done  tyrannically.  We  are  free  of  all 
men.  The  vow  which  we  made  in  baptism  is  sufiicieut 
by  itself  alone,  and  is  more  than  all  we  could  ever  ac- 
complish. Therefore  all  other  vows  may  be  abolished. 
Let  every  one  who  enters  the  priesthood,  or  a  religious 
order,  consider  well  that  the  works  of  a  monk  or  a 
priest,  how  difficult  soever  they  may  be,  are,  in  the 
view  of  God,  in  no  respect  superior  to  those  of  a  peasant 
labouring  in  the  field,  or  a  woman  attending  to  the 
duties  of  her  house.  God  estimates  all  these  tilings  by 
the  rule  of  faith.  And  it  often  happens  that  the  simple 
labour  of  a  man-sei-vant,  or  a  maid-sei-vant,  is  more 
agreeable  to  God  than  the  fastings  and  works  of  a  monk, 
these  bemg  deficient  in  faith.  .  .  .  The  Christian 
people  is  the  people  of  God  led  away  into  captivity, 
to  Babylon,  and  there  robbed  of  their  baptism." 

Such  were  the  weapons  by  which  the  religious  revolu- 
tion, whoso  history  we  are  tracing,  was  accomplished. 
First,  the  necessity  of  faith  was  established,  and  then 
the  reformers  used  it  as  a  hammer  to  break  superstition 
in  pieces.  They  attacked  error  with  that  Divine  power 
which  removes  mountains.  These,  and  many  similar 
passages  of  Luther,  circulated  in  towns,  convents,  and 
the  country,  were  the  leaven  which  leavened  the  whole 
lump. 

The  conclusion  of  this  famous  production  on  the 
captivity  of  Babylon,  is  in  the  following  terms: — 

"I  learn  that  a  new  papal  excommunication  has  been 
prepared  against  me.  If  so,  the  present  book  may  be 
regarded  as  part  of  my  future  recantation.  In  proof 
of  my  obedience,  the  rest  will  soon  follow;  and  the 
whole  will,  with  the  help  of  Christ,  form  a  collection, 
the  like  to  which  Rome  never  saw  or  heard  before." 


CHAPTER  YIL 

New  Negotiations— ililtitz  .nncl  the  Angustines  of  Eisleben— Depntation  to 
Luther— Miltitz  and  tlie  Elector— Conference  at  Liclitemberg— Luther's 
Letter  to  the  Pope— 13ook  Presented  to  the  Pope— Union  of  the  Believer 
with  Christ — Freedom  and  Bond.ige. 

ArTER  this  publication  all  hope  of  reconciliation 
between  the  pope  and  Luther  must  have  vanished. 
Persons  of   the  least  possible  discernment  must  have 


DEPUTATION  TO  LUTHER. 


been  struck  with  the  jncompatibility  of  the  reformer's 
belief  with  the  doctrine  of  the  Church;  and  yet,  at 
this  very  moment,  new  negotiations  were  about  to 
commence.  In  the  end  of  Auj^ust,  1520,  five  weeks 
before  the  publication  of  the  '•  Captivity  of  Babj-lon," 
the  general  chapter  of  the  Augiistiues  had  assembled 
at  Eisleben.  At  this  meeting  the  venerable  Staupitz 
resigned  his  office  of  vicar-general  of  his  order,  and 
Winceslas  Link — ho  who  accompanied  Luther  to 
Augsburg — was  invested  with  it.  Suddenly,  in  the 
middle  of  the  chapter,  arrived  the  indefatigable  lliltitz, 
bui-ning  with  eagerness  to  reconcile  Luther  and  the 
pope.  His  avarice,  and,  above  all,  his  jealousy  and 
hatred,  were  interested.  Eck  and  Ids  swaggering  had 
galled  him.  lie  knew  that  the  doctor  of  Ingolstadt 
had  spokeu  disparagingly  of  him  at  Rome  ;  and  there 
was  nothing  he  woidd  not  have  saeriliced  in  order  to 
defeat  the  designs  of  this  troublesome  rival  by  means 
of  a  speedily  concluded  peace.  The  interest  of  religion 
gave  him  no  concern.  One  day.  by  his  own  account, 
he  was  dming  with  the  Bishop  of  Leipsic.  After  the 
guests  had  di-ank  very  freely,  a  new  work  of  Luther's 
was  brought  in.  On  being  opened  and  read,  the  bishop 
flew  into  a  passion,  and  the  official  swore ;  but  Miltitz 
laughed  with  all  his  heart.  The  Reformation  was 
!     treated  by  IMiltitz  as  a  man  of  the  world,  and  by  Eck 

as  a  theologian. 
i  Ai-oused  by  the  arrival  of  Dr.  Eck,  IMiltitz  addi-ossed 
'  the  chapter  of  the  Augustines  iu  a  discom-se,  which  he 
I  delivered  ■with  a  very  marked  Italian  accent,  tliiuking 
I  thus  to  overawe  his  countrymen.  "The  whole  Augustine 
I  order  is  compromised  by  this  affair,"  said  he.  "  Shew 
mo  some  method  of  silencing  Luther."  "TVe  have 
nothing  to  do  with  the  doctor,"  replied  the  fathers, 
"  and  we  know  not  what  counsel  to  give  you."  They 
founded,  doubtless,  on  what  Staupitz  had  done  at 
Augsburg,  when  he  loosed  Luther  from  his  vows  of 
obedience  to  the  order.  Miltitz  insisted:  "Let  a  depu- 
tation from  this  venerable  chapter  wait  upon  Luther, 
and  solicit  him  to  ■^^Tite  a  letter  to  the  pope,  assuring 
him  that  he  has  never  plotted  in  any  respect  against 
his  person.  That  will  be  sufficient  to  tenninate  the 
affair."  The  chapter  gave  their  consent,  and  assigned 
the  task  of  conferring  with  Luther,  no  doubt  at  the 
nuncio's  request,  to  the  cx-vicar-general,  Staupitz,  and 
his  successor  Link.  The  deputation  forthwith  set  out 
for  Wittemberg,  with  a  letter  from  jVliltitz  to  the  doctor, 
filled  with  expressions  of  the  highest  respect.  "There 
is  no  time  to  be  lost,"  said  he,  "the  thunder  already 
hovering  over  the  head  of  the  refoi-mer  will  soon  burst, 
and  theu  all  is  over." 

Neither  Luther  nor  the  deputies,  who  concun-cd  in 
his  opinions,  hoped  anything  from  a  letter  to  the  pope. 
That,  however,  was  a  reason  for  not  refusing  to  write 
it,  as  it  would  only  be  a  mere  matter  of  form,  and 
might  serve  to  bring  out  Luther's  rights.  "  This  Italian 
of  Saxony,  (MUtitz.)"  thought  Luther,  "in  making  this 
demand,  has  doubtless  his  own  particular  interest  in 
view.  A'cry  well ;  be  it  so  !  I  wUl  write,  as  I  can  with 
truth,  that  I  have  never  objected  to  the  pope  personally. 
I  will  even  endeavoiu"  to  guard  against  severity  in 
attacking  the  see  of  Rome.  Still,  it  shall  have  its 
sprinkling  of  salt." 

Luther  having  shortly  after  been  informed  of  the 


arrival  of  the  bull  in  Germany,  declared  to  Spalatin, 
on  the  3rd  of  October,  that  lie  would  not  write  the 
pope;  and  on  the  Cth  of  the  same  monlli.  published  his 
book  on  the  "  Captivity  of  Babylon."  Jliltitz  did  not 
even  yet  despair  of  success.  His  eagerness  to  humble 
Eck  made  him  believe  an  impossibility.  On  tlie  2nd 
of  October  he  had  written  the  elector  iu  high  spii-its : 
"  Everything  will  go  well ;  but,  for  the  love  of  God, 
delay  no  longer  to  order  payment  of  the  pension  which 
I  have  had  from  you  and  your  brother  for  some  years. 
I  must  have  money,  in  order  to  make  new  friends  at 
Rome.  Write  the  pope,  and  do  homage  to  the  young 
cardinals,  the  relatives  of  his  holiness,  ^vith  gold  and 
silver  pieces  from  the  mint  of  your  electoral  highness ; 
and  add  some  for  me  also,  for  I  was  robbed  of  those 
which  you  gave  me." 

Even  after  Luther  was  acquainted  with  the  bull,  the 
intriguing  IMiltitz  was  not  discouraged,  and  requested  a 
conference  with  Luther  at  Lichtembcrg.  The  elector 
ordered  Luther  to  repair  thither.  But  his  friends,  and 
es])ecially  the  affectionate  Melancthon,  opposed  it. 
"  What!"  thought  they,  "at  the  moment  when  a  bull 
has  appeared,  ordering  Luther  to  be  seized  and  carried 
off  to  Rome,  to  accept  a  conference  with  the  pope's 
nuncio  in  a  retired  spot !  Is  it  not  evident  that, 
because  Dr.  Eck,  from  having  too  openly  proclaimed 
his  hatred,  is  not  able  to  approach  the  reformer,  the 
wily  chamberlain  has  been  employed  to  ensnare  Luther 
iu  his  nets  ? " 

These  fears  could  not  deter  the  doctor  of  Wittem- 
berg.  The  prince  has  commanded,  and  he  will  obey. 
"I  am  setting  out  for  Lichtemberg,"  -oTote  he  to  the 
chaplain  on  the  11th  of  October;  "  pray  for  me."  His 
friends  would  not  quit  him.  The  same  day,  towards 
evening,  Luther  entered  Lichtemberg  on  horseback, 
amid  thirty  horsemen,  one  of  whom  was  Melancthon. 
The  papal  nuncio  arrived  almost  at  the  same  time  with 
only  fom-  attendauts.  Was  this  modest  escort  a  strata- 
gem to  throw  Luther  and  his  friends  off  their  guard '? 

IMiltitz  urged  Luther  with  the  most  pressing  solicita- 
tions, assm-iug  him  that  the  blame  would  be  thrown 
upon  Eck  and  his  foolish  boastings,  and  that  every- 
thing would  terminate  to  the  satisfaction  of  both  parties. 
"  Very  well,"'  replied  Luther ;  "  I  offer  henceforth  to 
keep  silence,  pro\'ided  my  opponents  keep  it  also.  For 
the  sake  of  peace,  I  will  do  everytliing  that  it  is  possible 
for  me  to  do." 

Miltitz  was  delighted ;  and,  accompanying  Luther  as 
far  as  Wittemberg,  the  refonner  and  the  papal  nuncio 
walked  arm  in  arm  into  this  town,  which  Dr.  Eck  was 
now  approaching,  holding  menacingly  in  his  hand  the 
formidable  bull  which  was  to  overthrow  the  Refor- 
mation. "We  will  bring  the  matter  to  a  happy- 
conclusion,"  wrote  Miltitz  forthwith  to  the  elector. 
"  Thank  the  pope  for  his  rose ;  and,  at  the  same  time, 
send  forty  or  fifty  florins  to  Cardinal  Quatuor  Sanc- 
torum." 

Luther  felt  bound  to  keep  his  promise  of  wi-iting  the 
pope.  Before  bidding  Rome  an  eternal  adieu,  he 
wished  once  more  to  tell  her  important  and  salutary 
truths.  Some,  perhaps,  will  regard  his  letter  only  as  a 
piece  of  irony, — a  bitter  and  insulting  satire ;  but 
this  were  to  mistake  the  sentiments  by  which  he  was 
actuated.      He  sincerely  believed  that  Rome  was  to 


1C8 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


blame  for  all  the  evils  of  Chrialeudoui ;  auJ  in  this 
view  his  words  are  not  insiilts,  but  solemn  warnings. 
The  more  he  loved  Leo,  and  the  more  he  loved  the 
Church  of  Christ,  the  more  he  desired  to  unfold  the 
full  magnitude  of  the  disease.  The  energy  of  his  ex- 
pressions is  proportioned  to  the  energy  of  his  feelings. 
The  crisis  has  an-ived,  and  he  seems  like  a  prophet 
walking  roimd  the  city  for  the  last  time,  upbraiding 
it  for  all  its  abominations,  denouncing  the  judgments 
of  the  Almighty,  and  crying  aloud,  "  Still  some  days 
of  respite ! "     The  letter  is  as  follows  : — 

"To  the  most  holy  Father  in  God,  Leo  X.,  Pope 
at  Rome,  salvation  in  Clu-ist  Jesus  our  Lord.     Amen. 

"  From  amid  the  fearful  war  which  I  have  been 
waging  for  three  years  with  disorderly  men,  I  cannot 
helj)  looking  to  you,  O  Leo,  most  holy  Father  in  God. 
And  although  the  folly  of  yom-  impious  flatterers  has 
compelled  me  to  appeal  from  yom-  judgment  to  a  future 
council,  my  heart  is  not  turned  away  from  your  holi- 
ness ;  and  I  have  not  ceased  to  pray  God  earnestly  and 
with  profound  sighs,  to  grant  prosperity  to  youi-self 
and  your  pontificate. 

"It  is  true  I  have  attacked  some  antichi-istian 
doctrines,  and  have  inflicted  a  deej)  wound  on  my 
adversaries  because  of  their  impiety.  Of  this  I  rej^ent 
not,  as  I  have  here  Christ  for  an  example.  Of  what 
use  is  salt  if  it  have  lost  its  savour,  or  the  edge  of  a 
sword  if  it  will  not  cut  ?  Cm-sed  be  he  who  does  the 
work  of  the  Lord  negligently.  Most  excellent  Leo, 
far  from  having  conceived  any  bad  thoughts  with 
regard  to  you,  my  wish  is  that  you  may  enjoy  the  most 
precious  blessings  throughout  eternity.  One  thing 
only  I  have  done:  I  have  maintained  the  Word  of 
truth.  I  am  ready  to  yield  to  all  in  everything;  but 
as  to  this  "Word,  I  will  not,  I  cannot  abandon  it.  He 
who  thinks  differently  on  this  subject  is  in  error. 

"It  is  true  that  I  have  attacked  the  court  of  Rome; 
but  neither  yom-self  nor  any  man  living  can  deny  that 
there  is  greater  corruption  in  it  than  was  in  Sodom  and 
Gomorrah,  and  that  the  impiety  which  prevails  makes 
cure  hopeless.  .  Yes ;  I  have  been  horrified  on  seeing 
how,  under  your  name,  the  poor  followers  of  Christ 
were  deceived.  I  have  opposed  this,  and  will  oppose 
it  still, — not  that  I  imagine  it  possible,  in  spite  of  the 
opposition  of  flatterers,  to  accomplish  anything  in  this 
Babylon,  which  is  confusion  itself;  but  I  owe  it  to  my 
brethren  to  endeavour,  if  possible,  to  remove  some  of 
them  from  these  dreadful  evils. 

"You  know  it;  Rome  has  for  many  years  been 
inundating  the  world  with  whatever  could  destroy  both 
soul  and  body.  The  Church  of  Rome,  formerly  the 
first  in  holiness,  has  become  a  den  of  robbers,  a  place 
of  prostitution,  a  kingdom  of  death  and  hell;  so  that 
Antichrist  himself,  were  he  to  appear,  would  be  unable 
to  increase  the  amount  of  wickedness.  All  this  is  as 
clear  as  day. 

"  And  yet,  O  Leo,  you  yourself  are  like  a  lamb  in 
the  midst  of  wolves — a  Daniel  in  the  lions'  den.  But 
single-handed,  what  can  you  oppose  to  these  monsters? 
There  may  be  three  or  four  cardinals  who  to  know- 
ledge add  virtue.  But  what  are  these  against  so  many? 
You  should  perish  by  poison  even  before  you  could  try 
any  remedy.  It  is  all  over  with  the  court  at  Rome — 
the  wrath  of  God  has  overtaken  and  will  consume  it. 


It  hates  counsel — it  fears  reform — it  will  not  moderate 
the  fury  of  its  ungodliness;  and  hence  it  may  be  justly 
said  of  it  as  of  its  mother.  We  tvouhl  Itave  healed  Baby- 
lon, hut  she  is  not  healed;  forsahe  her.  It  belonged  to 
you  and  your  cardinals  to  apply  the  remedy;  but  the 
patient  laughs  at  the  doctor,  and  the  horse  refuses  to 
feel  the  bit.     .... 

"Cherishing  the  deepest  affection  for  you,  most 
excellent  Leo,  I  have  always  regretted  that,  formed  as 
you  are  for  a  better  age,  you  were  raised  to  the  pon- 
tificate in  these  times.  Rome  is  not  worthy  of  you, 
and  those  who  resemble  you ;  the  only  chief  whom  she 
deserves  to  have  is  Satan  himself;  and  hence  the  truth 
is,  that  in  this  Babylon  he  is  more  king  than  you  are. 
Would  to  God  that,  laying  aside  this  glory  which  yom' 
enemies  so  much  extol,  you  would  exchange  it  for  a 
modest  pastoral  office,  or  live  on  your  paternal  inheri- 
tance. Rome's  glory  is  of  a  kind  fit  only  for  Iscariots. 
.  .  .  O  my  dear  Leo,  of  what  use  are  you  in  this 
Roman  coiu-t,  unless  it  be  to  allow  the  most  execrable 
men  to  use  your  name  and  yom-  authority  in  ruining 
fortunes,  destroying  souls,  multiplying  crimes,  oppress- 
ing faith,  truth,  and  the  whole  Church  of  God?  O 
Leo,  Leo !  you  are  the  most  unf ortimate  of  men,  and 
you  sit  upon  the  most  dangerous  of  thrones.  I  tell 
you  the  truth  because  I  wish  yom-  good. 

"Is  it  not  true  that,  under  the  vast  expanse  of 
heaven  there  is  nothing  more  corrupt,  more  hateful, 
than  the  Roman  Court!  In  vice  and  corruption  it 
infinitely  exceeds  the  Turks.  Once  the  gate  of  heaven, 
it  has  become  the  mouth  of  hell — a  wide  mouth  which 
the  wrath  of  God  keeps  open,  so  that,  on  seeing  so 
many  unhappy  beings  thrown  headlong  into  it,  I  was 
obliged  to  lift  my  voice,  as  in  a  tempest,  in  order 
that,  at  least,  some  might  be  saved  from  the  fearful 
abyss.  Such,  O  Leo,  my  Father,  was  the  reason  why 
I  inveighed  against  this  death-giving  see.  Far  from 
attacking  your  person,  I  thought  I  was  labouring  for 
your  safety,  when  I  valiantly  assaulted  this  prison,  or 
rather  this  hell  in  which  you  are  confined.  To  do  all 
sorts  of  evil  to  the  Court  of  Rome,  were  to  discharge 
your  own  duty;  to  cover  it  with  shame  is  to  honour 
Christ ;  in  one  word,  to  be  a  Christian  is  to  be  any- 
thing but  a  Roman. 

"Meanwhile,  seeing  that  in  succouring  the  see  of 
Rome  I  was  losing  my  labour  and  my  pains,  I  sent 
her  a  letter  of  divorce.  I  said  to  her,  '  Adieu,  Rome  ! ' 
He  that  is  unjust,  let  him  be  unjust  still ;  and  he  that  is 
filthy,  let  him  be  filthy  still,  (Rev.  xxii.  11 ;)  and  devoted 
myself  to  the  tranquil  and  solitary  study  of  the  sacred 
volume.  Then  Satan  opened  his  eyes  and  awoke  his 
servant,  John  Eck,  a  great  enemy  of  Jesus  Christ,  in 
order  that  he  might  oblige  me  again  to  descend  into 
the  arena.  Eck's  wish  was  to  establish  the  primacy, 
not  of  Peter,  but  of  himself,  and,  for  that  purpose,  to 
lead  vanquished  Luther  in  triumph.  The  blame  of  all 
the  obloquy  which  has  been  cast  on  the  see  of  Rome 
rests  with  him." 

Luther  narrates  hia  intercourse  with  De  Vio,  Mil- 
titz,  and  Eck,  and  then  continues : 

"Now,  then,  I  come  to  you,  O  most  holy  Father, 
and,  prostrated  at  your  feet,  pray  you,  if  possible,  to 
put  a  curb  on  the  enemies  of  the  truth.  But  I  cannot 
retract  my  doctrine.     I  cannot  permit  rules  of  interpre- 


LUTHER'S  LETTER  TO  THE  POPE. 


169 


tntion  to  be  imposed  on  the  Holy  Scriptures.  The 
Word  of  God — the  source  whence  all  freedom  springs, 
must  be  left  free." 

"  O  Leo,  ray  Father !  listen  not  to  those  flattering 
sirens  who  tell  you  that  you  are  not  a  mere  man,  but 
a  dcmi-god,  and  can  ordain  what  you  please.  You  are 
the  servant  of  servants ;  and  the  seat  which  you  oc- 
cupy is  of  all  others  the  most  dangerous,  and  the  most 
unhappy.  Give  credit  not  to  those  who  exalt,  but  to 
those  who  humble  you.  Perhaps  I  am  too  bold  in 
giving  advice  to  so  high  a  majesty,  whose  duty  it  is  to 
instruct  all  men.  But  I  see  the  dangers  which  sur- 
round you  at  Kome;  I  see  you  driven  hither  and 
thither,  tossed,  as  it  were,  upon  the  billows  of  a  raging 
sea.  Chai'ity  urges  me ;  and  I  cannot  resist  sending 
forth  a  warning  cry. 

"  Not  to  appear  empty-handed  before  your  holiness, 
I  present  you  with  a  little  book,  which  has  appeared 
under  yom*  name ;  and  which  will  make  you  aware  of 
the  subjects  to  which  I  will  be  able  to  devote  myself, 
if  your  flatterers  permit  me.  It  is  a  small  matter  as 
regards  the  size  of  the  volume;  but  a  great  one  in 
regard  to  its  contents ;  for  it  comprehends  a  summary 
of  the  Christian  life.  I  am  poor,  and  have  nothing 
else  to  offer ;  besides,  you  have  no  want  of  anything 
but  spiritual  gifts.  I  commend  myself  to  your  holiness. 
May  the  Lord  keep  you  for  ever  and  ever !     Amen." 

The  little  book  with  which  Luther  did  homage  to  the 
pope,  was  his  "Treatise  on  the  Liberty  of  the  Chris- 
tian ; "  in  which  he  demonstrates,  without  any  polemical 
discussion,  how  the  Christian,  without  infringing  on 
the  liberty  which  faith  has  given  him,  may  submit  to 
every  external  ordinance  in  a  spirit  of  freedom  and 
love.  Two  truths  form  the  basis  of  the  whole  dis- 
course,— viz.,  The  Christian  is  free — all  things  are 
his.  The  Christian  is  a  servant  subject  to  all  in 
everything.    By  faith  he  is  free  ;  by  love  he  is  subject. 

At  first  he  explains  the  power  of  faith  to  make  the 
Christian  free.  "  Faith  unites  the  soul  with  Christ, 
as  a  bride  with  the  bridegroom.  Everything  that 
Christ  has  becomes  the  property  of  the  believer; 
everything  that  the  believer  has  becomes  the  property 
of  Christ.  Christ  possesses  all  blessings,  even  eternal 
salvation;  and  these  are  thenceforth  the  property  of 
the  believer.  The  believer  possesses  all  vices  and  all 
sins;  and  these  become,  thenceforth,  the  property  of 
Christ.  A  happy  exchange  now  takes  place.  Christ, 
who  is  God  and  man,  Christ,  who  has  never  sinned, 
and  whose  holiness  is  invincible,  Christ  the  Omnipo- 
tent and  Eternal,  appropriating  to  himself  by  His 
wedding  ring — that  is  to  Siiy,  by  faith — all  the  sins  of 
the  believer, — these  sins  are  swallowed  up  in  Him  and 
annihilated ;  for  no  sin  can  exist  in  presence  of  His 
infinite  righteousness.  Thus,  by  means  of  faith,  the 
soul  is  delivered  from  all  sins,  and  invested  with  the 
eternal  righteousness  of  Jesus  Christ  the  Bridegroom. 
O  happy  union !  Jesus  Christ  the  rich,  the  noble,  the 
holy  Bridegroom,  takes  in  marriage  this  poor,  guilty, 
contemned  bride,  delivers  her  from  all  evil,  and  decks 
her  in  the  richest  robes.  .  .  .  Christ,  a  king  and 
priest,  shares  this  honour  and  glory  with  all  Christians. 
The  Christian  is  a  king,  and  consequently  possesses  all 
things.  He  is  a  priest,  and  consequently  possesses  God. 
And  it  is  faith,  not  works,  which  procures  him  this 


honour.  The  Christian  is  free  from  all  things,  and 
above  all  things — faith  giving  him  everything  in  abun- 
dance." 

In  the  second  part  of  the  treatise  Luther  presents 
the  truth  in  its  other  point  of  view.  "  Although  the 
Christian  has  thus  been  made  free,  he  voluntarily  be- 
comes a  servant,  that  he  may  act  towards  his  brethren 
as  God  has  acted  towards  him  through  Jesus  Christ. 
I  desire,"  said  he,  "  freely,  joyfully,  and  gratuitously,  to 
serve  a  Father  who  hath  thus  shed  upon  me  all  the 
riches  of  His  goodness.  I  wish  to  become  everything 
to  my  neighbour,  as  Christ  has  become  everything  to 
me."  .  .  "  From  faith,"  continues  Luther,  "Hows 
love  to  God,  and  from  love  a  life  full  of  liberty,  charity, 
and  joy.  Oh  how  noble  and  elevated  a  life  the  life  of 
the  Christian  is !  But,  alas !  none  know  it,  and  none 
preach  it.  By  faith  the  Christian  rises  even  to  God, — 
by  love  he  descends  to  man ;  still,  however,  remaining 
always  in  God.  This  is  true  liberty, — a  liberty  as  far 
above  every  other  species  of  liberty  as  the  heavens  are 
above  the  earth." 

Such  was  the  treatise  which  accompanied  Luther's 
letter  to  Leo  X. 


CHAPTER  VUI. 

The    BuU  in   Germany— Eck'a  Reception— The   Bull   at  Wittemberg  — 
Interposition  of  Zwingle. 

"While  the  reformer  was  thus  addressing  the  Roman 
pontiff  for  the  last  time,  the  bull  which  anathematized 
him  was  already  in  the  hands  of  the  Germanic  Church, 
and  at  Luther's  own  door.  It  would  seem  that  no 
doubt  was  entertained  at  Rome  as  to  the  success  of 
the  measure  which  had  thus  been  adopted  against  the 
Reformation.  The  pope  had  charged  two  high  func- 
tionaries of  his  court — Caraccioli  and  Aleander — to  be 
the  bearers  of  it  to  the  Archbishop  of  llentz,  who  was 
requested  to  see  to  its  execution.  But  Eck  himself 
appeared  in  Saxony  as  the  herald  and  executor  of  the 
great  pontifical  work.  No  man  knew  better  than  the 
doctor  of  Ingolstadt  how  formidable  the  blows  were 
which  Luther  had  struck.  Alive  to  the  danger,  he  had 
stretched  forth  his  hand  to  sustain  the  tottering  edifice 
of  Rome.  In  his  own  estimation  he  was  the  Atlas, 
destined  to  support  the  ancient  Roman  world  on  his 
robust  shoulders  when  on  the  point  of  falling  to  pieces. 
Proud  of  the  success  of  his  journey  to  Rome, — proud 
of  the  charge  which  ho  had  received  from  the  sove- 
reign pontiff, — proud  to  appear  in  Germany  with  the 
new  title  of  protouotary  and  pontifical  nuncio, — proud 
of  the  bull  which  he  held  in  his  hand,  and  which  con- 
tained the  condemnation  of  his  indomitable  rival,  he 
regarded  his  present  mission  as  a  triumph  more  splen- 
did than  all  the  victories  which  he  had  gained  in  Hun- 
gary, Bavaria,  Lombardy,  and  Saxony,  and  from  which 
he  had  previously  derived  so  much  renown.  But  this 
pride  was  soon  to  be  humbled.  The  pope,  in  entrust- 
ing the  publication  of  the  bull  to  Eck,  had  committed 
a  blunder  which  was  destined  to  neutralize  its  effect. 
The  proud  distinction  conferred  on  a  man  who  did  not 


HISTORY  OP  THE  REFOEMATION. 


hold  high  rank  in  the  Church,  gave  offence  to  sensitive 
and  jealous  spu"its.  The  bishops,  accustomed  to  re- 
ceive the  bulls  directly  from  the  pope,  were  offended 
at  the  publication  of  this  one  in  their  dioceses  by  an 
upstart  nuncio.  The  nation,  who  had  hooted  the  pre- 
tended conqueror  of  Leipsic  at  the  moment  of  his 
flight  into  Italy,  were  equally  astonished  and  indignant 
when  they  saw  him  repass  the  Alps,  decked  in  the 
insignia  of  pontifical  nuncio,  and  with  the  power  of 
crushing  whomsoever  he  chose.  The  sentence  brought 
by  his  implacable  adversary,  Luther  regarded  as  an  act 
of  personal  revenge.  "  He  regarded  it,"  says  Palla- 
vicini,  "  as  the  perfidious  poniard  of  a  mortal  enemy, 
and  not  as  the  legitimate  act  of  a  Roman  lictor."  It 
was  generally  viewed  as  less  the  bull  of  the  sovereign 
pontiff  than  of  Dr.  Eck.  In  this  way  the  blow  was 
obstructed  and  weakened  beforehand  by  the  very  per- 
son at  whose  instigation  it  was  struck. 

The  Chancellor  of  Ingolstadt  had  hastened  back  to 
Saxony,  which,  as  having  been  the  scene  of  battle,  he 
was  desirous  should  also  be  the  scene  of  his  victory. 
Having  arrived,  he  published  the  bull  at  Meissen, 
Merseburg,  and  Brandenburg,  towards  the  end  of  Sep- 
tember. But  in  the  first  of  these  towns  it  was  posted 
up  in  a  place  where  nobody  could  read  it ;  and  the 
bishops  of  those  three  sees  were  in  no  haste  to  publish 
it.  Even  Duke  George,  Eck's  great  patron,  prohi- 
bited the  council  of  Leipsic  from  making  it  public, 
before  receiving  orders  from  the  Bishop  of  Merseburg ; 
and  these  orders  did  not  arrive  till  the  following  year. 
"  These  are  only  difficulties  of  form,"  said  John  Eck  to 
himself  at  first,  for  everything  else  seemed  to  smile 
upon  him.  Duke  George  sent  him  a  golden  cup  and 
some  ducats.  Even  Miltitz,  who  had  hastened  to 
Leipsic,  on  learning  that  his  rival  had  arrived,  invited 
him  to  dinner.  The  two  legates  were  boon  companions ; 
and  Miltitz  thought  he  could  not  have  a  better  oppor- 
tunity of  sounding  Eck  than  over  their  wine.  "After 
he  had  drunk  pretty  freel)',  he  began,"  says  the  pope's 
chamberlain,  '•  to  boast  in  grand  style ;  he  displayed 
his  bull,  and  told  how  he  meant  to  bring  that  droll 
fellow  Martin  to  his  senses."  But  the  Ingolstadt  doc- 
tor soon  had  occasion  to  observe  that  the  wind  was 
veering.  The  course  of  a  year  had  produced  a  great 
change  in  Leipsic.  On  St.  Michael's  day,  some  stu- 
dents posted  up  placards,  in  ten  different  places,  con- 
taining a  severe  attack  on  the  new  nuncio,  who,  in 
amazement,  took  refuge  in  the  cloister  of  St.  Paul, 
where  Tetzel  had  previously  found  his  asylum,  and 
declining  every  visit,  induced  the  rector  to  call  his 
youthful  opponents  to  account.  By  this  poor  Eck 
gained  little.  The.students  composed  a  song  upon  liim, 
and  sang  it  in  the  streets.  Eck  must  have  heard  it  in 
his  prison.  On  this  all  his  courage  failed  him,  and  the 
redoubtable  champion  trembled  in  every  limb.  Every 
day  brought  him  threatening  letters.  One  hundred 
and  fifty  students,  who  had  arrived  from  Wittemberg, 
spoke  out  boldly  agaiust  the  papal  envoy.  For  once 
the  poor  apostolical  nuncio  could  hold  out  no  longer. 
'•  I  would  not  have  them  kill  him,"  said  Luther, 
"  though  I  wish  his  designs  to  fail."  Eck,  quitting  his 
retreat  at  night,  clandestinely  escaped  from  Leipsic  to 
go  and  hide  himself  at  Coburg.  Miltitz,  who  gives 
the  account,  triumphed  more  than  the  reformer.     His 


triumph,  however,  was  not  of  long  duration.  All  the 
chamberlain's  projects  of  conciliation  failed,  and  he 
came  at  last  to  a  miserable  end.  One  day,  when 
drunk,  he  fell  into  the  Rhine  at  Mentz,  and  was 
drowned. 

Eck  gradually  recovered  courage.  Repamug  to 
Erfurt,  whose  theologians  had  on  more  than  one  occa- 
sion betrayed  their  jealousy  of  Luther,  he  insisted  on 
having  his  bull  published  in  this  town ;  but  the  stu- 
dents seized  the  copies,  tore  them  to  pieces,  and  threw 
them  into  the  river,  saying :  "  Since  it  is  a  bull,  let  it 
swim."  "  Now,"  said  Luther,  on  being  informed  of 
this,  "  the  pope's  paper  is  a  true  bull."  Eck  durst  not 
make  his  appearance  at  Wittemberg ;  but  he  sent  the 
bull  to  the  rector  with  a  threat,  that  if  it  was  not  con- 
formed to,  he  would  destroy  the  university.  At  the 
same  time  he  wrote  Duke  John,  Frederick's  brother, 
and  co-regent :  "  Do  not  take  what  I  do  in  bad  part ;  I 
am  acting  in  behalf  of  the  faith,  and  it  costs  me  many 
cares,  great  labour,  and  much  money." 

The  Bishop  of  Brandenburg,  supposing  him  inclined, 
was  not  entitled  to  act  at  Wittemberg  in  his  capacity 
of  ordinary,  the  university  being  protected  by  its  privi- 
leges. Luther  and  Carlstadt,  who  were  condemned 
by  the  bull,  were  asked  to  take  part  in  the  meetings 
which  were  held  to  deliberate  on  its  contents.  The 
rector  declared  that,  as  he  had  not  received  a  letter 
from  the  pope  along  with  the  bull,  he  declined  to  pub- 
lish it.  The  university  had  already  acquired  greater 
authority  in  the  surrounding  countries  than  the  sove- 
reign pontiff  himself.  Its  declaration  served  as  a  model 
to  the  government  of  the  elector ;  and  thus  the  spirit 
which  was  in  Luther  triumphed  over  the  bull  of  Rome. 

While  the  German  mind  was  thus  strongly  agitated 
by  this  affair,  a  grave  voice  was  heard  in  another  quar- 
ter of  Europe.  An  individual,  foreseeing  the  immense 
rent  which  the  papal  bull  was  about  to  make  in  the 
Church,  came  forward  to  give  a  solemn  warning,  and 
to  defend  the  reformer.  It  was  that  of  the  Swiss 
priest,  of  whom  we  have  already  spoken, — viz.,  Ulrich 
Zwinglc,  who,  though  not  united  to  Luther  by  any 
friendly  tie,  published  a  treatise  full  of  wisdom  and 
dignity,  the  fii-st  of  his  numerous  writings.  A  kind  of 
fraternal  affection  seemed  to  draw  him  towards  the 
doctor  of  Wittemberg.  "The  piety  of  the  pontiff," 
said  he,  "  requires  that  he  shall  joyfully  sacrifice  what- 
ever is  dearest  to  him  for  the  glory  of  Christ  his  King, 
and  for  the  public  peace  of  the  Church.  Nothing  is 
more  injurious  to  his  dignity  than  to  defend  it  by  pen- 
sions or  terror.  Even  before  the  writings  of  Luther 
were  read,  he  had  been  calumniated  to  the  people  .is  a 
heretic,  a  schismatic,  and  as  Antichrist  himself.  Not 
one  gave  him  warning — none  refuted  him.  He  called 
for  a  discussion ;  but  all  he  could  get  was  a  sentence  of 
condemnation.  The  bull  which  is  published  displeases 
even  those  who  honour  the  majesty  of  the  pope.  ^  For 
it  is  everywhere  regarded  as  an  expression  of  the  impo- 
tent hatred  of  some  monks,  and  not  of  the  mildness  of 
a  pontiff,  who  ought  to  be  the  vicar  of  a  Saviour  full 
of  love.  All  acknowledge  that  the  true  doctrine  of  the 
Gospel  of  Jesua  Christ  has  greatly  degenerated,  and 
that  a  public  and  thorough  reformation  of  laws  and 
manners  is  required.  Consider  all  men  of  learning  and 
virtue, — the  more  sincere  they  are,  the  stronger  is  their 


LUTHER'S  SELF-EXAMINATION. 


attachment  to  cvaiigolical  truth,  aiul  the  less  their  dis- 
satisfaction with  Luther's  writings.  There  is  not  one 
who  does  not  acknowledge  that  he  has  derived  benefit 
from  these  hooks,  though  he  may  have  met  with  pas- 
sages which  he  was  unable  to  approve.  Let  men  of 
sound  doctrine  and  acknowledged  probity  be  selected. 
Let  three  princes,  above  all  suspicion, — the  Emperor 
Charles,  the  King  of  England,  and  the  King  of 
Hungary, — name  tlie  judges.  Let  these  judges  read 
Luther's  writings.  Let  them  hear  his  defence,  and 
then  lot  their  decision,  whatever  it  be,  bo  confirmed. 
NiKTjfTaroj  ■!]  Tov  Xpta-rov  iraiScfa  lial  aK-ijO^ia,^  ^ 

This  proposal,  which  came  from  the  country  of  the 
Swiss,  led  to  no  result.  It  was  necessary  that  the 
great  divorce  should  take  place.  It  was  necessary  that 
Christendom  should  be  rent  in  twain.  Her  very 
wounds  were  destined  to  be  the  cure  of  her  diseases. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Luther  Examines  liirasdf  in  the  preseucc  of  God— Luther's  Opinion  nf  tlio 
BiUl— A  Ncutr.ll  Fiimily— Lutlier  on  tlic  Bull,  nud  .igainst  the  Bull  of 
Antichrist— The  Pope  prohibits  Faitli  -Effecls  of  tlie  Bull— Tiio  Faggot 
rile  of  Louvain. 

But  what  signified  all  this  resistance  by  students, 
rectors,  and  priests?  If  the  mighty  arm  of  Charles  "\'. 
is  joined  to  the  mighty  arm  of  the  pope,  will  they  not 
crush  these  scholars  and  grammarians  ?  Will  any  one 
be  able  to  resist  the  combined  power  of  the  pontiff  of 
Christendom  and  of  the  Emperor  of  the  West?  The 
blow  has  been  struck.  Luther  is  excommunicated; 
and  the  Gospel  seems  lost.  At  this  solemn  moment 
the  reformer  does  not  disguise  to  himself  the  magnitude 
of  the  danger  to  which  he  is  exposed ;  but  he  looks 
upward,  and  prepares  to  receive,  as  from  the  hand  of 
the  Lord  himself,  a  blow  which  seems  destined  to  anni- 
hilate him.  He  retires  within  himself,  and  meditates 
at  the  footstool  of  the  throne  of  God.  "What  the 
residt  is  to  be,"  says  he,  "  I  know  not,  and  I  am  not 
anxious  to  know ;  certain  as  I  am,  that  He  who  sits 
in  heaven  has  from  all  eternity  foreseen  the  beginning, 
the  progress,  and  the  end  of  this  affair.  Wherever 
the  blow  is  to  strike,  I  am  without  fear.  The  leaf  of 
a  tree  falls  not  without  our  Father's  will.  How  much 
less  shall  we  fall.  It  is  a  small  matter  to  die  for  the 
AVord,  since  this  Word,  which  became  incarnate,  and 
that  for  us,  has  itself  first  died.  If  we  die  with  it,  we 
shall  rise  again  with  it ;  and,  passing  along  the  same 
road  by  which  it  passed,  will  arrive  where  it  has 
arrived,  and  remain  with  it  throughout  eternity." 
Sometimes,  however,  Luther  could  not  restrain  the 
contempt  which  he  felt  for  the  manoeuvres  of  his  ene- 
mies. On  these  occasions  he  displays  his  characteristic 
combination  of  sublimity  and  sarcasm.  '•  I  know  no- 
thing of  Eck,"  says  he,  "  except  that  he  arrived  with 
a  long  beard,  a  long  bull,  and  a  long  jiurse.  .  .  . 
But  I  will  laugh  at  his  bull." 

On  the  3d  of  October  he  was  made  acquainted  with 
the  papal  letter.     "At  length,"  says  he,  "this  Roman 

1  Let  the  teaching  and  tnitli  of  CIn-Iat  prevail. 


bull  has  arrived.  I  despise  it,  and  defy  it  as  impious, 
false,  and  in  all  respects  worthy  of  Eck.  It  is  Christ 
himself  who  is  condemned.  It  gives  no  reasons ;  it 
merely  cites  me,  not  to  be  heard,  but  simply  to  sing  a 
palinode.  I  will  treat  it  as  spurious,  though  I  have 
no  doubt  it  is  genuine.  OIi,  if  Charles  V.  were  a  man, 
and  would,  for  the  love  of  Christ,  attack  these  demons ! 
I  rejoice  in  having  to  endure  some  hardships  for  the 
best  of  causes.  I  already  fcol  more  liberty  in  my 
heart;  for,  at  length,  I  know  that  the  pope  is  Anti- 
christ, and  that  his  .see  is  that  of  Satan  hiins(;lf." 

It  was  not  in  Saxony  merely  that  the  tluinders  of 
Rome  had  produced  alarm.  A  (piiet  family  of  Swabia, 
— a  neutral  family,  saw  its  peace  suddenly  broken  up. 
Bilibald  Pirckheimer,  of  Nuremberg,  one  of  the  most 
distinguished  men  of  his  age,  having  early  lost  his 
beloved  wife  Crescentia,  was  united  in  the  closest 
affection  with  his  two  young  sisters,  Charitas,  abbess 
of  St.  Clair,  and  Clara,  a  nun  of  the  same  convent. 
These  two  pious  females  served  God  in  solitude ;  and 
divided  their  time  between  study,  the  care  of  the  poor, 
and  preparation  for  eternity.  Bilibald,  who  was  a 
statesman,  relaxed  from  public  affairs  by  maintaining 
a  correspondence  with  them.  They  were  learned,  read 
Latin,  and  studied  the  Fathers;  but  their  favourite 
volume  was  the  Holy  Scriptures.  They  had  never  had 
any  other  teacher  than  their  brother.  The  letters  of 
Charitas  are  written  in  a  delicate  and  amiable  spirit. 
Tenderly  attached  to  Bilibald,  she  took  alarm  at  the 
least  danger  which  threatened  him.  Pirckheimer,  to 
dissipate  the  fears  of  this  timid  spirit,  wrote  a  dialogue 
between  Charitas  and  Veritas,  (Charity  and  Truth,)  in 
which  Veritas  tries  to  strengthen  Charitas.  Nothing 
can  be  more  touching,  or  better  fitted  to  solace  a  tender 
and  agonized  heart. 

What  must  have  been  the  terror  of  Charitas  when 
the  rumour  spread,  that  in  the  papal  bull  Bilibald's 
name  was  posted  up  beside  that  of  Luther,  on  the 
doors  of  cathedrals !  In  fact,  Eck,  pushed  on  by  blind 
fury,  had  associated  with  Luther  six  of  the  most  distin- 
guished men  of  Germany, — viz.,  Carlstadt,  Feldkir- 
chen,  and  Egranus,  (who  gave  themselves  very  little 
concern  about  it,)  and  Adelmann.  Pirckheimer,  and  his 
friend  Spongier,  whose  public  functions  made  them 
particularly  alive  to  the  insult.  There  was  groat  agi- 
tation in  the  convent  of  St.  Clair.  How  shall  the 
disgi-ace  of  Bilibald  be  borne  ?  Nothi.ig  affects  relatives 
more  deeply  than  such  trials.  In  vain  did  the  city  of 
Nur/  mberg,  the  Bishop  of  Bamberg,  and  even  the 
dukes  of  Bavaria,  interfere  in  behalf  of  Spongier  and 
Pirckheimer :  these  noble-minded  men  were  obliged  to 
humble  themselves  before  Dr.  Eck,  who  made  them 
feel  all  the  importance  of  a  Roman  protonotary;  and 
obliged  them  to  write  a  letter  to  the  pope,  declaring 
that  they  adhered  to  the  doctrines  of  Luther  only  in  so 
far  as  they  were  conformable  to  Christian  faith.  At 
the  same  time  Adelmann,  with  whom  Eck  had  once  had 
a  scuffle  on  rising  up  from  table  after  a  discussion  on 
the  great  question  which  then  occupied  all  minds,  was 
required  to  appear  before  the  Bishop  of  Augsburg,  and 
purge  himself  on  oath  of  all  participation  in  the  Lu- 
theran heresy.  Still,  however,  anger  and  revenge  had 
I)roved  bad  counsellors  to  Eck.  The  names  of  Bilibald 
and  his  friends  damaged  the  bull.     The  character  of 


HISTORY  OF  THE  EEFORMATION. 


these  eminent  men  and  their  extensive  connections, 
increased  the  general  irritation. 

Luther  at  first  pretended  to  douht  tlie  authenticity  of 
the  bull.  "  I  learn,"  says  he  in  the  first  work  which  he 
published  after  it,  "  that  Eck  has  brought  from  Rome 
a  new  bull,  which  resembles  him  so  much — is  so  stuffed 
with  falsehood  and  en-or,  that  it  might  well  be  named 
Doctor  EcTc.  He  gives  out  that  it  is  the  work  of  the 
pope,  whereas  it  is  only  a  work  of  lies."  After  ex- 
plaining his  reasons  for  doubting  its  genuineness, 
Luther  thus  concludes :  "  I  must  with  my  own  eyes 
see  the  lead,  the  seal,  the  tape,  the  conclusion,  the 
signature  of  the  bull — every  part  of  it,  in  short,  or  I 
will  not  estimate  all  this  clamour  at  the  weight  of  a 
straw." 

But  no  man  doubted,  not  even  Luther  himself,  that 
the  bull  was  the  pope's.  Germany  waited  to  see  what 
the  reformer  would  do.  Would  he  stand  firm  I  AH 
eyes  were  fixed  on  Wittemberg.  Luther  did  not  keep 
his  contemporaries  long  in  suspense.  On  the  4th  of 
November,  1520,  he  replied,  with  a  discharge  of  thunder, 
by  publishing  his  treatise  "Against  the  Bull  of  Anti- 
christ." 

"Wliat  errors,  what  impostm-es,"  said  he,  "have 
crept  in  among  the  poor  people  under  the  cloak  of  the 
Church,  and  the  pretended  infallibility  of  the  j)ope ! 
how  many  souls  have  thus  been  lost !  how  much 
blood  shed !  what  murders  committed !  what  kingdoms 
ruined ! " 

Fui'ther  on  he  ii'onically  says :  "  I  know  very  well 
how  to  distinguish  between  art  and  malice ;  and  set 
very  little  value  ou  a  malice  wliich  has  no  art.  To 
burn  books  is  so  easy  a  matter,  that  even  children  can 
do  it ;  how  much  more  the  holy  Father  and  his  doctors. 
It  would  become  them  to  shew  greater  ability  than  is 
requisite  merely  to  burn  books.  .  .  .  Besides,  let 
them  destroy  my  works !  I  desu-e  nothing  more ;  for 
all  I  wished  was  to  guide  men  to  the  Bible,  that  they 
might,  thereafter,  lay  aside  all  my  writings.  Good 
God  !  if  we  had  the  knowledge  of  Scripture,  wliat  need 
would  there  be  for  my  writings  ?  .  .  .  I  am  free, 
by  the  grace  of  God;  and  bulls  neither  solace  nor 
frighten  me.  My  strength  and  consolation  are  where 
neither  men  nor  devils  can  assail  them." 

Luther's  tenth  proposition,  condemned  by  the  pope, 
was  in  the  following  terms : — "  No  man's  sins  are 
pardoned  if,  when  the  priest  absolves  him,  he  does  not 
believe  that  they  are  pardoned."  The  pope,  in  con- 
demning it,  denied  that  faitli  was  necessary  in  the 
sacrament.  "  They  maintain,"  exclaims  Luther,  "  that 
we  ought  not  to  believe  that  our  sins  are  pardoned 
when  we  are  absolved  by  the  priest.  What,  then,  are 
we  to  do  ?  Listen  now,  O  Christians,  to  a  new  arrival 
from  Rome.  Condemnation  is  pronounced  against  this 
article  of  faith  which  we  profess  when  we  say,  J I  be- 
lieve in  the  Holy  Ghost,  the  Holy  Catholic  Church, 
and  the  forgiveness  of  sins.'  Did  I  know  that  the  pope 
had  really  given  this  bull  at  Rome,"  (he  did  not  doubt 
it,)  "  and  that  it  was  not  the  invention  of  the  arch-liar, 
Eck,  I  would  cry  aloud  to  all  Christians,  that  they 
ought  to  hold  the  pope  as  the  true  Antichrist  spoken  of 
in  Scripture.  And  if  he  would  not  desist  from  pro- 
scribing the  faith  of  the  Church,  .  .  .  then  let  the 
temporal  sword  resist  him  even  sooner  than  the  Turk ! 


J ;   but   the   pope 


.     .     .     For  the  Tm-ks  allow 
forbids  it." 

While  Luther  was  speaking  thus  forcibly,  his  perils 
were  increasing.  The  scheme  of  his  enemies  was  to 
(h-ive  him  out  of  Wittemberg.  If  Luther  and  Wittem- 
berg are  separated,  both  will  be  destroyed.  A  single 
stroke  would  thus  disencumber  Rome  of  both  the  here- 
tical doctor  and  the  heretical  university.  Duke  George, 
the  Bishop  of  Merseburg,  and  the  theologians  of  Leipsic, 
were  labom-ing  underhand  at  this  work.  Luther,  on 
being  apprised  of  it,  said,  "I  leave  this  affaii-  in  the 
hands  of  God."  These  proceedings  were  not  without 
result :  Adrian,  professor  of  Hebrew  at  Wittemberg, 
suddenly  turned  against  the  doctor.  It  requii-ed  great 
firmness  in  the  faith  to  withstand  the  shock  given  by 
the  Roman  bull.  There  are  chai-acters  which  follow 
the  truth  only  a  certain  distance,  and  such  was  Adi-ian. 
Frightened  at  the  condemnation,  he  quitted  Wittemberg, 
and  repaii'ed  to  Leipsic,  to  be  near  Dr.  Eck. 

The  bull  began  to  be  executed.  The  voice  of  the 
pontiff  of  Christendom  was  not  an  empty  sound.  Long 
had  fire  and  sword  taught  subjection  to  it.  Faggot 
piles  were  i^repared  at  his  bidding,  and  everything  in- 
dicated that  a  dreadful  catastrophe  was  to  put  au  end 
to  the  audacious  revolt  of  the  Augustine  monk.  In 
October,  1520,  all  the  copies  of  Luther's  works  in  the 
shops  of  the  booksellers  at  Ingolstadt  were  seized,  and 
put  under  seal.  The  Archbishop-elector  of  Mentz,  mo- 
derate as  he  was,  had  to  banish  Ulrich  of  Hiitten  from 
his  court,  and  imprison  his  printer.  The  papal  nuncios 
having  laid  siege  to  the  young  emperor,  Charles  declared 
that  he  would  protect  the  ancient  religion  ;  and  in  some 
of  his  hereditary  possessions  scaffolds  were  erected,  on 
which  the  writmgs  of  the  heretic  were  reduced  to  ashes. 
Princes  of  the  Church  and  magistrates  were  present  at 
these  autos-da-fe.  Aleander  was  quite  elated  with  his 
success.  "  The  pope,"  said  he,  in  imitation  of  Prierio, 
"  may  dethrone  kings  !  He  may,  if  he  chooses,  say  to 
the  emperor.  Thou  art  only  a  tanner!  _He  knows  well 
how  to  bring  one  or  two  miserable  grammarians  to  their 
senses.  We  will  dispose,  moreover,  of  Duke  Frederick 
also."  To  hear  the  proud  nuncio,  one  would  have  said 
that  the  pile  of  Mentz  which  consumed  Luther's  books 
was  "  le  commencement  de  la  Jin,"  (the  beginning  of  the 
end.)  These  flames,  it  was  said  at  Rome,  will  carry 
terror  into  every  quarter.  Such,  in  truth,  was  the 
effect  on  many  suiierstitious  and  timid  spirits ;  but 
even  in  the  hereditary  states  of  Charles,  where  alone  it 
was  ventured  to  execute  the  bull,  the  people,  and  even 
the  grandees,  often  answered  these  pontifical  demons- 
trations with  derision,  or  expressions  of  indignation. 
"Luther,"  said  the  doctors  of  Louvain,  on  presenting 
themselves  before  Margaret,  Regent  of  the  Nether- 
lands,— "Luther  is  subverting  the  Christian  faith." 
"  AVho  is  this  Luther  ? "  asked  the  princess. — "  Au 
ignorant  monk." — "  Well,  then,"  replied  she,  "  do  you, 
who  are  learned,  and  in  such  numbers,  write  against 
him.  The  world  will  credit  a  midtitude  of  learned  men 
sooner  than  au  isolated  ignorant  monk."  The  doctoi-s 
of  Louvain  preferred  an  easier  method.  They  caused 
a  vast  pile  to  be  erected  at  their  own  expense.  The 
place  of  execution  was  covered  with  spectators ;  and 
students  and  burghers  wore  seen  hastening  through  the 
crowd,  their  arms  filled  with  large  volumes,  which  they 


LUTHER'S  APPEAL  TO  A  GENERAL  COUNCIL. 


threw  into  the  flamog.  Their  zeal  edified  the  monks 
and  doctors  ;  but  the  trick  was  afterwards  discovered. 
Instead  of  the  •m-itings  of  Luther,  tlioy  liad  thrown  in- 
to the  iiro  the  "Sermones  Discipuli,  Tartaret,"  and 
other  scholastic  and  popish  books. 

Tlie  Count  of  Nassau,  viceroy  of  Holland,  when  the 
Dominicans  were  soliciting  the  favour  of  burning  the 
doctor's  books,  said  to  them  :  "  Go  and  preach  the  Gos- 
pel as  purely  as  Luther,  and  you  will  have  nobody  to 
complain  of."  At  a  festival,  attended  by  the  leading 
princes  of  the  empire,  the  reformer  having  become  the 
subject  of  conversation,  the  Baron  of  Ravenstein  said 
aloud :  '■  In  the  space  of  four  centuries  only  one  Chris- 
tian man  has  dared  to  lift  his  head,  and  the  pope  is 
wishing  to  put  him  to  death." 

Luther,  conscious  of  the  power  of  his  cause,  remained 
tranquil  amid  the  tumult  which  the  bull  had  excited. 
"  Did  you  not  urge  me  so  keenly,"  said  he  to  Spalatin, 
"  I  would  be  silent,  well  knowing  that  by  the  power 
and  counsel  of  God  this  work  must  be  accomplished." 
Tiie  timid  man  was  anxious  for  speech,  the  strong  man 
wished  to  be  silent.  It  was  because  Luther  discerned 
a  power  not  visible  to  the  eyes  of  his  friend.  "  Be  of 
good  courage,"  continues  the  reformer ;  "  Christ  began 
these  things,  and  Christ  will  accomplish  them,  though 
I  should  be  put  to  flight  or  put  to  death.  Jesus  Christ 
is  present  here,  and  more  powerful  is  He  who  is  in  us, 
than  he  who  is  in  the  world." 


CHAPTER  X. 

Decisive  Steps  by  the  Reroniier — Luther's  Appeal  to  a  General  Council — 
Straggle  at  Close  Quarters— The  Bull  burned  by  Luther— Meaning  of 
tliis  bold  act— Luther  in  the  Academic  Chair— Luther  against  the  Pope- 
New  Work  by  Melancthon— How  Luther  encourages  his  Friends — Pro- 
gress of  tlie  Contest — Melancthon's  Opinion  of  the  Timid— Luther's 
Work  on  the  Bible— Doctrine  of  Grace— Luther's  Recantation. 

But  duty  obliged  him  to  speak,  in  order  to  manifest 
the  truth  to  the  world.  Rome  has  struck,  and  he  will 
make  it  known  how  he  receives  the  blow.  The  pope 
lias  put  liim  under  the  ban  of  the  Church,  and  he  will 
put  the  pope  under  the  ban  of  Christendom.  Up  to 
lliis  hour  the  pope's  word  has  been  omnipotent.  Luther 
will  oppose  word  to  word,  and  the  world  will  know 
which  is  the  more  powerful  of  the  two.  "  I  am  de- 
sirous," said  he,  "  to  set  my  conscience  at  rest,  by 
making  men  aware  of  the  danger  to  which  they  are 
exposed."  At  the  same  time  he  prepares  to  renew  his 
appeal  to  an  universal  council.  An  appeal  from  the 
pope  to  a  council  was  a  crime ;  and  hence  the  mode  in 
which  Luther  attempts  to  justify  hiinself,  is  a  new  act 
of  hostility  to  papal  authority. 

On  the  morning  of  the  iTtli  November,  a  notary 
and  five  witnesses,  of  whom  Cruciger  was  one,  met  at 
ten  o'clock,  in  one  of  tlie  halls  of  the  Augustine  con- 
vent in  which  the  doctor  resided.  There  the  public 
officer,  Sarctor  of  Eisleben,  having  seated  himself  to 
draw  up  the  minute  of  his  protest,  the  reformer,  in 
presence  of  the  witnesses,  says,  with  a  solemn  tone : — 


"  Considering  that  a  general  council  of  the  Christian 
Cliurch  is  above  the  pope,  especially  in  all  that  con- 
cerns the  faith : 

"Considering  that  the  power  of  the  pope  is  not 
above,  but  beneath  Scripture,  and  that  he  lias  no  right 
to  worry  the  sheep  of  Christ,  and  throw  them  into  the 
wolf's  mouth  : 

"  I,  Martin  Luther,  Augustine,  doctor  of  the  Holy 
Scriptures  at  "Wittemberg,  do,  by  this  writing,  appeal 
for  myself,  and  for  all  who  shall  adhere  to  me,  from 
the  most  holy  Pope  Leo,  to  a  future  universal  Chris- 
tian council. 

"  I  appeal  from  the  said  Pope  Leo,  first,  as  an  un- 
just, rash,  tyrannical  judge,  who  condemns  me  without 
hearing  me,  and  without  explaining  the  grounds  of  his 
judgment;  second!//,  as  a  heretic,  a  strayed,  obdurate 
apostate,  condemned  by  the  Holy  Scriptures,  inasmuch 
as  he  ordains  me  to  deny  that  Christian  faith  is  neces- 
sary in  the  use  of  the  sacraments ;  thirdli/,  as  an  enemy, 
an  antichrist,  an  adversary,  a  tyrant  of  tlie  Holy  Scrip- 
ture, who  dares  to  oppose  his  own  words  to  all  the 
words  of  God ;  fourthly,  as  a  despiser,  a  calumniator,  a 
blasphemer  of  the  holy  Christian  Church  and  a  free 
council,  inasmuch  as  he  pretends  that  a  council  is  no- 
thing in  itself. 

"  Wherefore,  I  most  humbly  supplicate  the  most 
serene,  most  illustrious,  excellent,  generous,  noble, 
brave,  sage,  and  prudent  lords,  Charles,  the  Roman 
emperor,  the  electors,  princes,  counts,  barons,  knights, 
gentlemen,  councillors,  towns,  and  commonalties, 
throughout  Germany,  to  adhere  to  my  protestation, 
and  join  me  in  resisting  the  antichristian  conduct  of  the 
pope,  for  the  glory  of  God,  the  defence  of  the  Church, 
and  of  Christian  doctrine,  and  the  maintenance  of  free 
councils  in  Christendom.  Let  them  do  so,  and  Christ 
our  Lord  will  richly  recompense  them  by  His  eternal 
grace.  But  if  there  are  any  who  despise  my  prayer, 
and  continue  to  obey  that  impious  man,  the  pope, 
rather  than  God,  I,  by  these  presents,  shake  myself 
free  of  the  responsibility.  Having  faithfully  warned 
their  consciences,  I  leave  them,  as  well  as  the  pope, 
and  all  his  adherents,  to  the  sovereign  judgment  of 
God." 

Such  is  Luther's  deed  of  divorce,  such  his  answer  to 
the  papal  bull.  There  is  great  seriousness  in  this  de- 
claration. The  accusations  which  he  brings  against 
the  pope  are  very  grave,  and  are  not  made  in  a  spirit 
of  levity.  This  protestation  spread  over  Germany, 
and  was  sent  to  the  leading  courts  of  Christendom. 

Though  the  step  which  Luther  had  just  taken  seemed 
the  very  height  of  daring,  he  had  a  still  bolder  step  in 
reserve.  The  monk  of  Wittemberg  will  do  all  that  the 
pope  dares  to  do.  The  son  of  the  Medicis,  and  the 
son  of  the  miner  of  Mansfekl,  have  descended  into  the 
lists ;  and  in  this  mortal  struggle,  which  shakes  the 
world,  not  a  blow  is  given  by  tlie  one  which  is  not  re- 
turned by  the  other.  On  the  10th  December,  a  notice 
appeared  on  the  walls  of  Wittemberg,  inviting  the  pro- 
fessors and  students  to  meet  at  nine  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  at  the  east  gate,  near  the  holy  cross.  A 
great  number  of  teachers  and  pupils  assembled  ;  and 
Luther,  walking  at  their  head,  led  the  procession  to 
the  appointed  spot.  How  many  faggot  piles  has  Rome 
kindled  in  the  course  of  ages  !     Luther  desires  to  make 


174 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


a  better  application  of  the  great  Roman  principle.  He 
only  wishes  to  rid  himself  of  some  old  papers,  and  the 
fire,  he  thinks,  is  the  fit  instrument  for  that.  A  scaf- 
fold had  been  prepared.  One  of  the  oldest  masters  of 
arts  applied  the  torch.  At  the  moment  when  the 
flames  rose,  the  redoubted  Augustine,  dressed  in  his 
frock,  was  seen  to  approach  the  pile,  holding  in  his 
hands  the  Canon  Law,  the  Decretals,  the  Clemen- 
tines, the  Extravagauts  of  the  popes,  some  writings 
of  Eck  and  Emser,  and  the  papal  bull.  The  De- 
cretals having  first  been  consumed,  Luther  held  np 
the  bull,  and  sayiug,  "  Since  thou  hast  grieved  the 
Lord's  Anointed,  let  the  eternal  fire  grieve  and  con- 
sume thee,"  threw  it  into  the  flames.  Never  was  war 
declared  with  more  energy  and  resolution.  Luther 
quietly  took  the  road  back  to  the  town,  and  the  crowd 
of  doctors,  professors,  and  students,  after  a  loud  cheer, 
returned  with  him  to  Wittemberg.  "  llie  Decretals," 
said  Luther,  "  resemble  a  body  with  a  head  as  soft  as 
that  of  a  maiden,  limbs  as  full  of  violence  as  those  of 
a  lion,  and  a  tail  with  as  many  wiles  as  a  serpent.  In 
all  the  papal  laws  there  is  not  one  word  to  teach  us 
who  Jesus  Christ  is.  My  enemies,"  continues  he, 
"have  been  able,  by  burning  my  books,  to  injure  the 
truth  in  the  minds  of  the  common  people,  and  there- 
fore I  have  burnt  their  books  in  my  turn.  A  serious 
struggle  has  now  commenced.  Hitherto  I  have  only 
had  child's  play  with  the  pope.  I  began  the  work  in 
the  name  of  God ;  it  will  be  terminated  without  me 
and  by  His  power.  If  they  burn  my  books,  in  which, 
to  speak  without  vain-glory,  there  is  more  of  the  Gos- 
pel than  in  all  the  books  of  the  pope,  I  am  entitled,  a 
fortiori^  to  burn  theirs,  in  which  there  is  nothing  good." 

Had  Luther  commenced  the  Reformation  in  this  way, 
such  a  proceeding  would  doubtless  have  led  to  fatal 
results.  Fanaticism  would  have  been  able  to  lay  hold 
of  it,  and  throw  the  Chm-ch  into  a  com'se  of  disoi-der 
and  violence.  But  the  reformer's  grave  exposition  of 
Scripture  had  foimed  a  prelude  to  his  work.  The 
foundations  had  been  wisely  laid ;  and  now,  the  mighty 
stroke  which  he  had  just  given,  would  not  only  expose 
him  to  no  hazard,  but  even  accelerate  the  hour  when 
Christendom  would  be  delivered  from  her  chains. 

Thus  solemnly  did  Luther  declare  his  separation 
from  the  pope  and  his  church.  After  his  letter  to  Leo 
he  might  think  this  necessary.  He  accepted  the  ex- 
communication which  Rome  had  pronounced.  It  made 
the  Christian  world  aware  that  there  was  now  mortal 
war  between  him  and  the  pope.  On  reaching  the 
shore  he  burnt  his  ships,  and  left  himself  no  alterna- 
tive but  that  of  advancing  to  the  combat. 

Luther  liad  returned  to  Wittemberg.  Next  day 
the  academic  hall  was  fuller  than  usual.  Men's 
minds  were  excited.  A  feeling  of  solemnity  prevailed 
throughout  the  audience,  in  expectation  of  an  addi-ess 
from  the  doctor.  Ho  commented  on  the  Psahns, — a 
task  which  he  had  commenced  in  March  of  the  previous 
year.  Having  finished  his  lecture,  he  paused  a  few 
moments,  and  then  said  firmly:  "Be  on  your  guard 
agauist  the  laws  and  statutes  of  the  pope.  I  have 
burned  the  Decretals,  but  it  is  only  child's  play.  It  is 
time,  and  more  than  time,  to  burn  the  pope.  I  mean 
— he  instantly  resumed — the  see  of  Rome,  with  all  its 
doctrines  and  abominations."     Then,  assinning  a  more 


solemn  tone,  he  said :  "  If  you  do  not  with  all  yom- 
heart  combat  the  impious  government  of  the  pope,  you 
cannot  be  saved.  Whoever  takes  pleasure  in  the  reli- 
gion and  worship  of  the  papacy,  will  be  eternally  lost 
in  the  life  to  come." 

"If  we  reject  it,"  added  he,  "we  may  expect  all 
kinds  of  dangers,  and  even  the  loss  of  life.  But  it  is 
far  better  to  run  such  risks  in  the  world  than  to  be 
sUent !  As  long  as  I  live  I  will  warn  my  brethren  of 
the  sore  and  plague  of  Babylon,  lest  several  who  are 
with  us  fall  back  with  the  others  into  the  abyss  of 
hell." 

It  is  scarcely  possible  to  imagine  the  effect  produced 
upon  the  audience  by  language,  the  energy  of  which 
still  makes  us  wonder.  "None  of  us,"  adds  the  candid 
student  to  whom  we  owe  the  fact,  "  at  least  if  he  be 
not  a  block  without  intelligence,  ('as,'  adds  he  in  a 
parenthesis,  '  all  the  papists  are,') — none  of  us  doubts 
that  it  contains  the  simple  truth.  It  is  evident  to  all 
the  faithful  that  Dr.  Luther  is  an  angel  of  the  living 
God,  called  to  feed  the  long  bewildered  sheep  of  Christ 
with  the  Divine  Word." 

This  discourse,  and  the  act  which  crowned  it,  mark 
an  important  epoch  in  the  Reformation.  The  Leipsic 
discussion  had  detached  Luther  inwardly  from  the  pope. 
But  the  moment  when  he  burned  the  bull,  was  that  in 
which  he  declared,  in  the  most  expressive  manner,  his 
entire  separation  from  the  Bishop  of  Rome  and  hia 
chux'ch,  and  his  attachment  to  the  Church  imiversal, 
as  founded  by  the  apostles  of  Jesus  Christ.  After 
three  centuries,  the  fire  which  he  kindled  at  the  east 
gate  is  still  burning. 

"  The  pope,"  said  he,  "  has  three  crowns  ;  and  they 
are  these :  the  first  is  against  God,  for  he  condemns 
religion, — the  second,  against  the  emperor,  for  he  con- 
demns the  secular  power, — and  the  t/iird,  against 
society,  for  he  condemns  marriage."  '\\'Tien  he  was 
reproached  with  inveighing  too  violently  against  the 
papacy,  he  replied :  "  Ah !  I  wish  everything  I  testify 
against  him  were  a  clap  of  thunder;  and  every  one  of 
my  words  were  a  thunderbolt." 

This  firmness  of  Luther  was  communicated  to  his 
friends  and  countrymen.  A  whole  nation  rallied  round 
him.  The  university  of  Wittemberg,  in  particular, 
always  became  more  attached  to  the  hero  to  whom  it 
owed  its  importance  and  renown.  Carlstadt  raised  his 
voice  against  "  the  raging  lion  of  Florence,"  who  tore 
divine  and  human  laws  to  pieces,  and  trampled  under 
foot  the  principles  of  eternal  truth.  At  this  time 
Melancthou  also  addressed  the  states  of  the  empire,  in 
a  ^vTiting  characterized  by  his  usual  elegance  and  wis- 
dom. It  was  a  reply  to  a  treatise  attributed  to  Emser, 
but  published  under  the  name  of  Rhadinus,  a  Roman 
theologian.  Luther  himself  spoke  not  more  foi-cibly; 
and  yet  there  is  a  grace  in  Melancthon's  words  which 
gives  them  access  to  the  heart. 

After  shewing,  by  passages  of  Scripture,  that  the 
pope  is  not  superior  to  other  bishops ;  "  What  prevents 
us,"  says  he  to  the  states  of  the  empire,  "  from  depriv- 
ing the  pope  of  the  privilege  which  we  have  given  him  ? 
It  matters  little  to  Luther  that  our  riches, — /.  «.,  the 
treasures  of  Europe,  are  sent  to  Rome.  But  what 
causes  his  grief  and  ours  is,  that  the  laws  of  the  pon- 
tiffs and  the  reign  of  the  pope,  not  only  endanger  the 


PROGRESS  OF  THE  STRUGGLE. 


souls  of  men  but  utterly  destroy  them.  Every  mau 
can  judge  for  himself,  whether  or  not  it  suits  him  to 
give  his  niouey  for  the  maintenance  of  Roman  luxury; 
but  to  judge  of  the  things  of  religion  and  of  sacred 
mysteries,  is  beyond  the  reach  of  the  vulgar.  Here, 
then,  Luther  implores  your  faith  and  zeal;  and  all 
pious  men  implore  with  him, — some  with  loud  voice, 
and  others  with  groans  and  sighs.  Remember,  princes 
of  the  Christian  people,  that  you  are  Christians ;  and 
rescue  the  sad  wrecks  of  Christianity  from  the  tyranny 
of  Antichrist.  You  are  deceived  by  those  who  pretend 
that  you  have  no  authority  over  priests.  The  same 
spirit  which  animated  Jehu  against  the  priests  of  Baal, 
urges  you,  in  imitation  of  that  ancient  example,  to 
abolish  the  Roman  superstition, — a  superstition  far 
more  horrible  than  the  idolatry  of  Baal."  So  spoke 
mild  Melancthou  to  the  princes  of  Germany. 

Some  cries  of  alarm  were  heard  among  the  friends 
of  the  Reformation.  Timid  spirits,  inclined  to  exces- 
sive moderation, — Staupitz  in  particular, — expressed 
the  keenest  anguish.  "  Till  now,"  said  Luther  to  him, 
"  the  whole  affair  has  been  mere  sport.  You  yourself 
have  said :  '  Did  God  not  do  these  things  it  is  impos- 
sible they  could  be  done.'  The  tumult  becomes  more 
and  more  tumultuous,  and  I  do  not  think  it  will  be 
quelled  before  the  last  day."  Such  was  Luther's  mode 
of  encom-aging  the  timid.  The  tumult  has  existed  for 
three  centuries,  and  is  not  quelled ! 

"The  papacy,"  continued  he,  "is  not  now  what  it 
was  yesterday  and  the  day  before.  Lot  it  excommuni- 
cato and  burn  my  writings ;  .  .  .  let  it  kill  me  ! 
— it  cannot  arrest  what  is  going  forward.  Something 
wonderful  is  at  the  door.  I  burnt  the  bull  in  great 
trembling,  but  now  I  experience  more  joy  from  it  than 
from  any  action  of  my  life." 

We  stop  involuntarily,  and  delight  to  read  in  the 
gi-eat  soul  of  Luther  all  that  the  futiu-e  is  preparing. 
"  0  my  father,"  says  he  to  Staupitz,  in  concluding, 
'•  pray  for  the  "Word  of  God  and  for  me.  I  am  heaved 
on  the  billows,  and  as  it  were  whirled  upon  them." 

War  is  thus  declared  on  all  sides.  The  combatants 
have  thrown  away  their  scabbards.  The  Word  of  God 
has  resumed  its  rights,  and  deposes  him  who  had  gone 
the  length  of  usm-ping  God's  place.  Society  is  shaken 
throughout.  No  period  is  without  egotistical  men, 
who  would  willuigly  leave  human  society  in  error  and 
corruption  ;  but  wise  men,  even  the  timid  among  them, 
think  differently.  "  We  know  well,"  says  the  mild  and 
moderate  Melancthon,  "  that  statesmen'  have  a  horror 
at  everything  like  innovation;  and  it  must  be  confessed, 
that  in  the  sad  confusion  called  human  life,  discord, 
even  that  which  arises  from  the  best  of  causes,  is 
always  accompanied  with  evil.  Still,  it  is  necessary 
that  in  the  Church  the  Word  of  God  take  precedence 
of  everything  human.  God  denounces  eternal  wrath 
against  those  who  stri^-e  to  extinguish  the  truth ;  and 
therefore  it  was  a  duty  incumbent  on  Luther — a 
Christian  duty,  which  he  could  not  evade — to  rebuke 
the  pernicious  errors  which  disorderly  men  were  circu- 
lating with  inconceivable  effrontery.  If  discord  engen- 
ders many  evils,  (to  my  great  grief  I  see  it  does,)"  adds 
sage  Philip,  "  it  is  the  fault  of  those  who  at  the  begin- 
ning circulated  errors,  and  of  those  who,  filled  with  dia- 
bolic hatred,  are  seeking  at  present  to  maintain  them." 


All,  however,  were  not  of  the  same  opinion.  Luther 
was  loaded  with  reproaclies, — the  storm  burst  upon 
him  from  all  sides.  "  He  is  quite  alone,"  said  some ; 
"  he  teaches  novelties,"  said  others. 

"  Who  knows,"  replied  Luther,  in  .iccordance  with 
the  virtue  given  him  from  on  high, — "  who  knows  if 
God  has  not  chosen  me,  and  called  me ;  and  if  they 
ought  not  to  fear  that,  in  despising  me,  they  may  be 
despising  God  himself  ?  .  .  .  Moses  was  alone  on 
coming  out  of  Egypt, — Elijah  alone  in  the  time  of  King 
Ahab, — Isaiah  alone  in  Jerusalem, — Ezekiel  alone  at 
Babylon.  .  .  .  God  never  chose  for  a  prophet 
either  the  high  priest  or  any  other  great  personage. 
He  usually  chose  persons  who  were  low  and  despised, 
— on  one  occasion  he  even  chose  a  shepherd,  (Amos.) 
At  all  times  the  saints  have  had  to  rebuke  the  great — 
kings,  princes,  priests,  the  learned — at  the  risk  of  their 
lives.  And  under  the  new  dispensation  has  it  not  been 
the  same  ?  Ambrose  in  his  day  was  alone  ;  after  him 
Jerome  was  alone ;  later  still  Augustine  was  alone. 
.  .  .  I  do  not  say  that  I  am  a  prophet ;  but  I  say 
they  ought  to  fear  just  because  I  am  alone,  and  they 
are  many.  One  thing  I  am  sure  of,  the  Word  of  God 
is  with  me,  and  is  not  with  them. 

"  It  is  said  also,"  continues  he,  "  that  I  advance 
novelties,  and  that  it  is  impossible  to  believe  that  all 
other  doctors  have  for  so  long  a  period  been  mistaken. 

"  No,  I  do  not  preach  novelties.  But  I  say  that  all 
Cliristian  doctrines  have  disappeared,  even  among  those 
who  ought  to  have  preserved  them, — I  mean  bishops 
and  the  learned.  I  doubt  not,  however,  that  the  truth 
has  remained  in  some  hearts,  should  it  even  have  been 
in  infants  in  the  cradle.  Poor  peasants,  mere  babes, 
now  understand  Jesus  Christ  better  than  the  pope,  the 
bishops,  and  the  doctors. 

"  I  am  accused  of  rejecting  the  holy  doctors  of  the 
Church.  I  reject  them  not ;  but  since  all  those  doctors 
try  to  prove  their  writings  by  Holy  Scripture,  it  must 
be  clearer  and  moi-e  certain  than  they  are.  Who  thinks 
of  proving  an  obscure  discourse  by  one  still  more  ob- 
scure ?  Thus,  then,  necessity  constrains  us  to  recur  to 
the  Bible,  as  all  the  doctors  do,  and  to  ask  it  to  decide 
upon  their  -writings ;  for  the  Bible  is  lord  and  master. 

"But  it  is  said  men  in  power  persecute  him.  And 
is  it  not  clear  from  Scriptm'e  that  persecutors  are 
usually  in  the  wrong,  and  the  persecuted  in  the  right ; 
that  the  majority  are  always  in  favom*  of  falsehood, 
and  the  minority  in  favour  of  truth  ?  The  truth  has, 
at  all  times,  caused  clamour." 

Luther  afterwards  reviews  the  propositions  con- 
demned in  the  bull  as  heretical,  and  demonstrates  their 
truth  by  proofs  drawn  from  Holy  Scripture.  With 
what  force,  in  particular,  does  he  now  maintain  the 
doctrine  of  grace ! 

"  What !"  says  he,  "  will  nature  be  able,  before  and 
without  grace,  to  hate  sin,  avoid  it,  and  repent  of  it ; 
while  that,  even  since  grace  is  come,  this  nature  loves 
sin,  seeks  it,  desires  it,  and  ceases  not  to  combat  grace, 
and  to  be  irritated  against  it — a  fact  for  which  all  the 
s.aints  continually  do  groan?  .  .  .  It  is  as  if  it 
were  said  that  a  large  tree,  which  I  am  unable  to  bend 
by  exerting  my  utmost  strength,  bends  of  itself  on  my 
letting  it  go ;  or  that  a  torrent,  which  walls  and  dykes 
cannot  arrest,  is  arrested  the  instant  I  leave  it  to  itself. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


.  .  .  No,  it  is  not  by  considering  sin  and  its  conse- 
quences that  we  attain  to  repentance,  but  by  contem- 
plating Jesus  Clirist,  His  wounds,  and  boundless  love. 
The  knowledge  of  sin  must  result  from  repentance,  and 
not  repentance  from  the  knowledge  of  sin.  Knowledge 
is  the  fruit,  repentance  is  the  tree.  "With  us  the  fruit 
grows  upon  the  tree ;  but  it  would  seem  that,  in  the 
states  of  the  holy  father,  the  tree  grows  upon  the  fruit." 

The  courageous  doctor,  though  he  protests,  also  re- 
tracts some  of  his  propositions.  Sui-prise  will  cease 
when  his  mode  of  doing  it  is  known.  After  quoting 
the  four  propositions  on  indulgences,  condemned  by  the 
biUl,  he  simply  adds  : 

"  In  honour  of  the  holy  and  learned  bull,  I  refract 
all  that  I  have  ever  taught  touching  indulgences.  If 
my  books  have  been  justly  burned,  it  must  certainly  be 
because  I  conceded  something  to  the  pope  in  the  doc- 
trine of  indulgences ;  wherefore,  I  myself  condemn  them 
to  the  fire." 

He  also  retracts  in  regard  to  John  Huss.  "  I  say 
now,  not  that  some  articles,  but  all  the  articles  of  John 
Huss  are  Christian  throughout.  The  pope,  in  con- 
demning Huss,  condemned  the  Gospel.  I  have  done 
five  times  more  than  he,  and  yet  I  much  fear  have  not 
done  enough.  Huss  merely  says,  that  a  wicked  pope 
is  not  a  member  of  Christendom  ;  but  I,  were  St.  Peter 
himself  sitting  to-day  at  Kome,  would  deny  that  he 
was  pope  by  the  appointment  of  God." 


CHAPTER  XI. 

Coronation  of  Charles  V.— The  Nuncio  Aleander— Will  Luther's  Books  be 
burnt  ?— Aleander  and  the  Emperor— The  Nuncios  and  the  Elector— 
The  Son  of  Duke  John  pleads  for  Luther— Luther's  Calmness — The 
Elector  protects  Luther— Reply  to  the  Nuncios — Erasmus  at  Cologne  — 
Erasmus  with  the  Elector— Declaration  of  Erasmus— Advice  of  Erasmus 
—System  of  Charles  V. 

The  powerful  words  of  the  reformer  penetrated  all 
minds,  and  contributed  to  their  emancipation.  The 
sparks  of  light  which  each  word  threw  out  were  com- 
municated to  the  whole  nation.  But  a  great  question 
remained  to  be  solved.  Would  the  prince,  in  whose 
states  Luther  dwelt,  favour  the  execution  of  the  bull, 
or  would  he  oppose  it '?  The  reply  seemed  doubtful. 
At  that  time  the  elector  and  all  the  princes  of  the  em- 
pire were  at  Aix-la-Chapelle,  where  the  crown  of 
Charlemagne  was  placed  upon  the  head  of  the  youngest, 
but  most  powerful  monarch  of  Christendom.  Unpre- 
cedented pomp  and  magnificence  were  displayed  in  the 
ceremony.  Charles  V.,  Frederick,  the  princes,  minis- 
ters, and  ambassadors,  immediately  after  repaired  to 
Cologne.  Aix-la-Chapello,  where  the  plague  was  rag- 
ing, seemed  to  empty  itself  into  this  ancient  town  on 
the  banks  of  the  Rhine. 

Among  the  crowd  of  strangers  who  pressed  into  the 
city,  were  the  two  papal  nuncios,  Marino  Caraccioli 
and  Jerome  Aleander.  Caraccioli,  who  had  previously 
executed  a  mission  to  Maximilian,  was  appointed  to 
congratulate  the  new  emperor,  and  confer  with  him  on 
matters  of  state.     But  Rome  had  become  aware  that, 


in  order  to  succeed  in  extinguishing  the  Reformation, 
it  was  necessary  to  send  into  Germany  a  nuncio 
specially  entrusted  with  the  task,  and  with  a  character, 
address,  and  activity  fitted  to  accomplish  it.  Aleander 
had  been  selected.  This  man,  who  was  afterwards 
decorated  with  the  cardinals'  purple,  seems  to  have  been 
of  rather  an  ancient  family,  and  not  of  Jewish  parent- 
age, as  has  been  said.  The  guUty  Borgia  called  him  to 
Rome  to  be  secretary  to  his  sou,  the  Ca3sar,  before 
whose  murderous  sword  all  Rome  trembled.  "Like 
master  like  servant,"  says  a  historian,  who  thus  com- 
pares Aleander  to  Alexander  VI.  This  judgment 
seems  too  severe.  After  the  death  of  Borgia,  Aleander 
devoted  himself  to  study  with  new  ardour.  His  skill 
in  Greek,  Hebrew,  Chaldee,  and  Arabic,  gave  him  the 
reputation  of  being  the  most  learned  man  of  his  age. 
He  threw  his  whole  soul  into  whatever  he  undertook. 
The  zeal  with  which  he  studied  languages  was  not  a 
whit  stronger  than  that  which  he  displayed  in  perse- 
cuting the  Reformation.  Leo  X.  took  him  into  his 
service.  Protestant  historians  speak  of  his  epicurean 
habits — Roman  historians  of  the  integrity  of  his  life. 
He  seems  to  have  been  fond  of  luxury,  show,  and 
amusement.  "  Aleander,"  says  his  old  friend  Erasmus, 
"  lived  in  Venice,  in  high  office,  but  in  low  epicu- 
reanism." He  is  admitted  to  have  been  violent  in 
temper,  prompt  in  action,  full  of  ardour,  indefatigable, 
imperious,  and  devoted  to  the  pope.  Eck  is  the  blus- 
tering, intrepid  champion  of  the  school, — Aleander  the 
proud  ambassador  of  the  arrogant  court  of  the  pontiffs. 
He  seemed  formed  to  be  a  nuncio. 

Rome  had  made  every  preparation  to  destroy  the 
monk  of  Wittemberg.  The  duty  of  assisting  at  the 
coronation  of  the  emiieror,  as  representative  of  the 
pope,  was  to  Aleander  only  a  secondary  mission,  fitted 
to  facilitate  his  task  by  the  respect  which  it  secured  to 
him.  The  essential  part  of  his  commission  was  to 
dispose  Charles  to  crush  the  growing  Reformation.  In 
putting  the  bull  into  the  hands  of  the  emperor,  the 
nuncio  had  thus  addressed  him :  "  The  pope,  who  has 
succeeded  with  so  many  great  princes,  will  have  little 
difficulty  in  bringing  three  gi-ammarians  to  order."  By 
these,  he  meant  Luther,  Melancthon,  and  Erasmus. 
Erasmus  was  present  at  this  audience. 

No  sooner  had  Aleander  arrived  at  Cologne,  than  he 
proceeded,  in  concert  with  Caraccioli,  to  put  everything 
in  train  for  burning  Luther's  heretical  writings  through- 
out the  empire ;  but  more  especially  under  the  eyes  of 
the  princes  of  Germany,  who  were  then  assembled. 
Charles  V.  had  already  consented  to  its  being  done  in 
his  hereditary  states.  The  minds  of  men  were  greatly 
agitated.  "  Such  measures,"  it  was  said  to  the  minis- 
ters of  Charles,  and  to  the  nuncios  themselves,  "far 
from  curing  the  evil,  will  only  make  it  worse.  Do  you 
imagine  that  the  doctrine  of  Luther  exists  only  in  the 
books  which  you  throw  into  the  flames '?  It  is  written 
where  you  cannot  reach  it — on  the  hearts  of  the  popu- 
lation. If  you  will  employ  force,  it  must  be  that  of 
innumerable  swords,  drawn  to  massacre  an  immense 
multitude.  Some  billets  of  wood,  collected  for  the 
purpose  of  consuming  some  bits  of  paper,  will  do 
nothing ;  such  weapons  become  not  the  dignity  either 
of  the  emperor  or  the  pontiff."  The  nuncio  defended 
his  faggot  piles.      "These  flames,"  said  he,   "are   a 


^lir: 


k 


IMH 


THE  NUNCIOS  AND  THE  ELECTOR. 


sentonoc  of  o(iiiilomiiiiti<>n  wrilteu  in  gigantic  letters, 
and  iiiiderstooil  alikr  l>y  ihn-.^  who  arc  near,  and  those 
who  arc  at  a  ili>l:inrr.  I.y  lli.'  Karned  and  the  ignorant. 

But,  in  reality,  the  nuncio's  elforts  were  directed  not 
against  papi  is  and  books,  but  Luther  himself.  "These 
tiamos,"  ri'sumcd  he,  "  are  not  sufficient  to  purify  the 
infected  air  of  Germany.  If  they  deter  the  simple, 
they  do  not  correct  the  wicked.  The  thing  wanted  is 
an  edict  from  the  emperor  against  Luther's  head." 

Aleander  did  not  find  the  emperor  so  complying  on 
the  subject  of  the  reformer's  person,  as  on  that  of  his 
books. 

'•  Having  just  ascended  the  throne,"  said  he  to 
Aleander,  "  I  cannot,  without  the  advice  of  my  coun- 
cillors, and  the  consent  of  the  princes,  strike  such  a 
blow  at  an  immense  faction,  surrounded  by  such 
powerful  defenders.  Let  us  first  know  what  our 
father,  the  Elector  of  Saxony,  thinks  of  the  affair; 
after  that,  we  shall  see  what  answer  to  give  to  the 
pope."  On  the  elector,  therefore,  the  nuncios  pro- 
ceeded to  try  their  wUes  and  the  power  of  their 
eloquence. 

On  the  first  Sunday  of  November,  after  Frederick 
had  attended  mass  in  the  convent  of  the  Cordeliers, 
Caraccioli  and  Aleander  requested  an  audience.  He 
received  them  in  the  presence  of  the  Bishop  of  Trent, 
and  several  of  his  councillors.  Caraccioli  first  pre- 
sented the  papal  brief.  Milder  than  Aleander,  he 
thought  it  best  to  gain  the  elector  by  flatter}',  and 
began  to  laud  him  and  his  ancestors.  "In  you,"  said 
he,  "  we  hope  for  the  salvation  of  the  Roman  Church 
and  the  Roman  empire." 

But  the  impetuous  Aleander,  wishing  to  come  to  the 
point,  came  briskly  forward,  and  interrupted  his  col- 
league, who  modestly  gave  way  to  him.  "  It  is  to  me," 
said  he,  "  and  Eck,  that  Martin's  affair  has  been  en- 
trusted. See  the  immense  perils  to  which  this  man 
exposes  the  Christian  commonwealth.  If  a  remedy  is 
not  speedily  applied  the  empire  is  destroyed.  What 
ruined  the  Greeks  if  it  was  not  their  abandonment  of 
the  pope  ?  You  cannot  remain  united  to  Luther  with- 
out separating  from  Jesus  Christ.  In  the  name  of  his 
holiness,  I  ask  of  you  two  things :  first,  to  burn  the 
writings  of  Luther ;  secondly,  to  punish  him  according 
to  his  demerits,  or  at  least  to  give  him  up  a  prisoner  to 
the  pope.  The  emperor,  and  all  the  princes  of  the 
empire,  have  declared  theii-  readiness  to  accede  to  our 
demands ;  you  alone  still  hesitate."     .     .     . 

Frederick  replied,  by  the  intervention  of  the  Bishop 
of  Trent :  "  This  affair  is  too  grave  to  be  decided  on 
the  spur  of  the  moment.  We  will  acquaint  you  with 
our  resolution." 

Frederick's  position  was  difficult.  What  course  will 
he  adopt.?  On  the  one  side  are  the  emperor,  the 
princes  of  the  empire,  and  the  chief  pontiff  of  Christen- 
dom, from  whose  authority  the  elector  has  as  yet  no 
thought  of  withdrawing ;  on  the  other,  a  monk,  a  feeble 
monk ;  for  his  person  is  all  that  is  asked.  The  reign  of 
the  emperor  ha-s  just  commenced,  and  will  discord  be 
thrown  into  the  empire  by  Frederick,  the  oldest  and 
the  wisest  of  all  the  princes  of  Germany  ?  Besides, 
can  he  renounce  that  piety  which  led  him  as  far  as  the 
sepulchre  of  Christ .'     ... 


Other  voices  were  then  heard.  John  Frederick,  sou 
of  Duke  John,  and  nephew  of  Frederick,  the  pupil  of 
Spalatin,  a  young  prince,  seventeen  years  of  age,  who 
afterwards  wore  the  electoral  crown,  and  whose  reigu 
was  marked  by  great  misfortunes,  had  been  inspired 
with  a  heartfelt  love  of  the  truth,  and  was  strongly 
attached  to  Luther.  When  he  saw  him  struck  with 
the  anathemas  of  Rome,  he  embraced  his  cause  with 
the  w-armth  of  a  young  Christian  and  a  young  pi-ince. 
lie  wrote  to  the  doctor,  he  wrote  also  to  his  uncle, 
soliciting  him  to  protect  Luther  against  his  enemies. 
At  the  same  time,  Spalatin,  though  indeed  he  was  often 
veiy  desponding,  Pontauus,  and  the  other  councillors 
who  were  w'ith  the  elector  at  Cologne,  represented  to 
him  that  he  could  not  abandon  the  reformer. 

Amid  the  general  agitation  only  one  man  remained 
tranquil — that  man  was  Luther.  While  others  were 
trying  to  save  him  by  the  influence  of  the  great,  the 
monk,  in  his  cloister  at  Wittemberg,  thought  that  the 
great  stood  more  in  need  of  being  saved  by  him.  Writ- 
ing to  Spalatin,  he  says :  "  If  the  Gospel  was  of  a 
nature  to  be  propagated  or  maintained  by  the  power  of 
the  world,  God  would  not  have  entrusted  it  to  fisher- 
men. To  defend  the  Gospel  appertains  not  to  the 
princes  and  pontiffs  of  this  world.  They  have  enough 
to  do  to  shelter  themselves  from  the  judgments  of  the 
Lord  and  His  Anointed.  If  I  speak,  I  do  it  in  order 
that  they  may  obtain  the  knowledge  of  the  Divine 
Word,  and  be  saved  by  it." 

Luther's  expectation  was  not  to  be  deceived.  The 
faith  which  a  convent  of  Wittemberg  contained  exer- 
cised its  influence  in  the  palaces  of  Cologne.  The 
heart  of  Frederick,  shaken,  perhaps,  for  an  instant, 
became  gi-adually  stronger.  He  was  indignant  that 
the  pope,  notwitlistanding  of  urgent  entreaties  to  inves- 
tigate the  matter  in  Germany,  had  condemned  it  at 
Rome,  on  the  demand  of  the  reformer's  personal  enemy; 
and  that  in  his  absence  that  enemy  should  have  dared 
to  publish  in  Saxony  a  bull  which  threatened  the  ex- 
istence of  the  university  and  the  peace  of  his  people. 
Besides,  the  elector  was  convinced  that  Luther  had 
been  wronged.  He  shuddered  at  the  thought  of  de- 
livering an  innocent  man  into  the  cruel  hands  of  his 
enemies.  Justice,  rather  than  the  pope, — such  was 
the  rule  he  adopted.  He  resolved  not  to  yield  to  Rome. 
On  the  4th  November,  when  the  Roman  nuncios  were 
in  his  presence  with  the  Bishop  of  Trent,  liis  council- 
lors announced  to  them,  on  the  part  of  the  elector,  that 
he  was  much  grieved  to  see  how  Doctor  Eck  had  taken 
the  opportunity  of  his  absence  to  involve  in  condemna- 
tion several  persons  not  adverted  to  in  the  bull, — that 
it  might  be  that,  since  his  departure,  an  immense  num- 
ber of  the  learned  and  the  ignorant,  the  clergy  and  the 
laity,  had  united  in  adhering  to  the  cause  and  the 
ajjpeal  of  Luther, — that  neither  his  imperial  majesty, 
nor  any  person,  had  shewn  him  that  the  -Nvritings  of 
Luther  had  been  refuted,  and  that  the  only  thing  now 
necessary  was  to  throw  them  into  the  fire, — that  he, 
moreover,  demanded  a  safe  conduct  for  Doctor  Luther, 
to  enable  him  to  appear  before  learned,  pious,  and 
important  judges. 

After  this  declaration,  Aleander,  Caraccioli,  and 
their  suite,  retired  to  deliberate.  It  was  the  first  time 
the  elector  had  publicly  declared  his  intentions  with 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


regard  to  the  reformer.  The  nuncios  had  anticipated 
a  very  different  result.  "  Now,"  thought  they,  "  that 
the  elector,  by  persisting  in  playing  liis  part  of  impar- 
tiality, would  expose  himself  to  dangers,  the  full  extent 
of  which  cannot  be  foreseen,  he  will  not  hesitate  to 
sacrifice  the  monk."  So  Kome  had  reasoned.  But  her 
schemes  were  destined  to  fail  before  a  power  to  which 
she  had  not  adverted — the  love  of  justice  and  truth. 

When  again  before  the  elector's  councillors,  "  I 
would  fain  know,"  said  the  imperious  Aleander,  "what 
the  elector  would  think,  were  one  of  his  subjects  to 
choose  the  King  of  France,  or  some  other  foreign 
prince  for  judge?"  Seeing  at  length  that  the  Saxon 
councillors  were  not  to  be  shaken,  he  said :  "  We  will 
execute  the  buU ;  we  will  prosecute  and  burn  the  wi'it- 
iugs  of  Luther.  As  to  his  person,"  added  he,  affecting 
a  tlisdaiuful  indifference,  "  the  pope  has  no  anxiety  to 
dip  his  hand  in  the  blood  of  the  wi'etch." 

News  of  the  reply  which  the  elector  had  given  to 
the  mmcios  having  reached  Wittemberg,  Luther's, 
friends  were  overjoyed.  Melancthon  and  Amsdoiif,  in 
particular,  cherished  the  most  flattering  hopes.  ''Tlie 
Gei-man  nobility,"  said  Melancthon,  "  will  shape  their 
course  by  the  example  of  a  prince  whom  they  follow 
j  in  everything  as  their  uestor.  If  Homer  called  his 
hero  '  the  wall  of  the  Greeks,'  why  should  not  Frede- 
rick be  called  '  the  wall  of  the  Gei-mans  ? '  " 

Erasmus — the  oracle  of  com-ts,  the  torch  of  the 
schools,  the  light  of  the  world — was  then  at  Cologne, 
having  been  invited  thither  by  several  princes  who 
wished  to  consult  him.  At  the  period  of  tlie  Refor- 
mation, Erasmus  was  at  the  head  of  the  true  midtUe 
(juste  milieu)  party, — at  least  he  thought  he  was,  but 
erroneously ;  for  when  truth  and  error  are  in  presence 
of  each  other,  the  right  side  is  not  the  middle.  He 
was  the  chief  of  that  philosophical  and  university 
party  which  had  for  ages  aspu-ed  to  correct  Rome, 
without  being  able  to  do  so ;  he  was  the  representative 
of  human  wisdom  ;  but  this  wisdom  was  too  weak  to 
repress  the  arrogance  of  the  papacy.  The  wisdom  of 
God  was  necessary — that  wisdom  wliich  the  world 
often  calls  folly,  but  at  the  bidding  of  whicli  moun- 
tains are  crushed.  Erasmus  was  unwilling  cither  to 
throw  himself  into  the  amis  of  Luther,  or  to  seat  him- 
self at  the  feet  of  the  pope.  He  hesitated,  and  often 
vibrated  between  these  two  powers,  sometimes  attracted 
towards  Luther,  and  then  suddenly  repelled  towards 
the  pope.  He  had  declared  for  Luther  in  a  letter  to 
tlie  Archbisliop  of  Mentz,  in  which  he  had  said :  "  The 
Lost  spark  of  Clmstian  piety  seems  ready  to  be  extin- 
guished. It  is  this  that  has  moved  Luther's  heart ;  he 
cares  neither  for  money  nor  honour."  The  publication 
of  this  letter  by  the  imprudent  Ulrich  von  Hiitten,  sub- 
jected Erasmus  to  so  much  annoyance,  that  he  resolved 
to  act  with  more  prudence  in  future.  Besides,  he  was 
accused  of  being  in  concert  with  Luther,  whose  un- 
guarded speeches,  moreover,  offended  him.  "Almost 
all  good  people,"  said  he,  "  are  for  Luther ;  but  I  see 
that  we  are  on  the  high  way  to  a  revolt.  I  would  not 
have  my  name  coupled  with  his.  It  hm-ts  me,  and  does 
him  no  good."  "  Be  it  so,"  replied  Luther,  "  since  it 
pains  you,  I  promise  never  to  mention  your  name,  nor 
that  of  any  of  your  friends."  Such  was  the  man  to  whom 
both  the  enemies  and  the  friends  of  the  reformer  a^jplied. 


The  elector,  aware  that  the  opinion  of  a  man  so 
much  respected  as  Erasmus  would  carry  great  weight, 
invited  the  illustrious  Dutchman  to  come  to  him. 
Erasmus  complied.  This  was  on  the  5th  of  December. 
The  friends  of  Luther  saw  this  step  not  without  secret 
apprehension.  The  elector  was  sitting  before  the  fire, 
with  Spalatin  beside  him,  when  Erasmus  was  intro- 
duced. "What  think  you  of  Luther?"  immediately 
asked  Frederick.  The  prudent  Erasmus,  sm-prised  at 
the  direct  question,  at  first  tried  to  evade  it.  He 
twisted  his  mouth,  bit  his  lips,  and  said  nothing.  Then 
the  elector,  opening  his  eyes,  (says  Spalatin,)  as  he  was 
wont  to  do  when  speaking  to  persons  from  whom  he 
wished  a  precise  answer,  looked  piercingly  at  Erasmus, 
who,  not  knowiug  how  to  disembarrass  himself,  at  last 
said,  half  in  jest:  "Luther  has  committed  two  gi-eat 
faults ;  he  has  attacked  the  jjope's  crown  and  the 
monks'  belly."  The  elector  smiled,  but  gave  Erasmus 
to  understand  that  he  was  in  earnest.  Then  Erasmus, 
laying  aside  his  reserve,  said :  "  The  source  of  all  this 
dispute  is  the  hatred  of  the  monks  against  letters,  and 
the  fear  they  have  of  seeing  an  end  put  to  their 
tyi-anny.  What  have  they  put  in  operation  against 
Luther?  Clamour,  cabal,  hatred,  libels.  The  more 
vu'tuous  and  the  more  attached  to  the  doctrines  of  the 
Gospel  a  man  is,  the  less  is  he  opposed  to  Luther.  The 
harshness  of  the  bull  has  excited  the  indignation  of  aU 
good  men  ;  and  nobody  has  been  able  to  discover  in  it 
the  meekness  of  a  vicar  of  Jesus  Christ.  Out  of  so 
many  universities,  two  only  have  attacked  Luther ;  and 
even  these  have  only  condemned,  not  convicted  him. 
Let  not  people  deceive  themselves ;  the  danger  is 
greater  than  some  suppose.  Things  difficult  and  ardu- 
ous are  at  hand.  ...  To  begin  the  reign  of 
Charles  with  an  act  so  hateful  as  the  imprisonment  of 
Luther,  would  be  of  sad  auguiy.  The  world  is  thu-st- 
ing  for  evangelical  truth.  Let  us  beware  of  culpably 
resisting  it.  Let  the  affair  be  examined  by  grave  men 
of  soimd  judgment ;  this  would  be  more  accordant  with 
the  dignity  of  the  pope  himself." 

Thus  spoke  Erasmus  to  the  elector.  The  reader 
will,  perhaps,  be  astonished  at  his  frankness ;  but  Eras- 
mus knew  to  whom  he  was  speaking.  Spalatin  was 
delighted ;  and  going  out  with  Erasmus,  accompanied 
him  as  far  as  the  house  of  the  Coimt  of  Nuenar,  pro- 
vost of  Cologne,  where  the  illustrious  scholar  was 
residing.  Erasmus,  in  a  fit  of  frankness,  went  into  his 
room,  took  up  the  pen  and  wrote  down  tlie  substance 
of  what  he  had  said  to  the  elector,  and  gave  it  to  Spala- 
tin. But  fear  of  Aleander  soon  took  possession  of  the 
timid  Erasmus ;  the  courage  which  he  had  felt  in  the 
presence  of  the  elector  and  his  chaplain  vanished ;  and 
he  begged  Spalatin  to  send  back  his  too  bold  writing, 
lest  it  should  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  terrible  nuncio. 
It  was  too  late. 

The  elector,  feeling  strong  in  the  opinion  of  Erasmus, 
spoke  in  more  decided  terms  to  the  emperor.  Erasmus 
himself  strove  in  nocturnal  conferences,  like  Nicodemus 
of  old,  to  persuade  the  councillors  of  Charles  that  it 
was  necessary  to  remit  the  wliole  affair  to  impartial 
judges.  Perhaps  he  had  some  hope  of  being  named 
arbiter  in  this  cause,  which  threatened  to  divide  the 
Christian  world.  His  vanity  would  have  been  flattered 
by  the  office.     But,  at  the  same  time,  not  to  lose  him- 


LUTHER  ON  CONFESSION  AND  TRUE  ABSOLUTION. 


self  at  Rome,  he  wrote  the  most  submissive  letters  to 
Leo,  who  replied  in  kind  terms,  and  thereby  put  poor 
Alcandcr  to  the  tort\ire.  From  love  to  the  pope,  he 
could  have  sharply  rebuked  the  pope.  Erasmus  com- 
muniealcd  the  i)ontiff's  letters,  because  they  added  to 
his  crodit.  The  nuncio  made  a  complaint  at  Rome. 
'•Pretend,"  was  the  answer,  "that  you  do  not  observe 
the  nauj;htiiiess  (if  that  man.  Pnulcnce  requires  it — 
it  is  necessary  to  leave  the  door  open  for  repentance." 

Charles  V.  himself  endiraccd  a  vacillating  system, 
which  consisted  in  flattering  both  the  pope  and  the 
elector ;  and  in  seeming  to  incline  alternately  towards 
tlie  one  or  the  other,  according  to  the  wants  of  the 
moment.  One  of  his  ministers,  whom  he  had  sent  to 
Rome  on  certain  Spanish  matters,  had  airivcd  at  the 
very  time  when  Eck  was  loudly  ]irosecuting  Luther's 
condenniation.  The  wily  aiiibas^ndor  instantly  saw  the 
advantages  which  his  niasler  ini.:lit  derive  from  the 
Saxon  monk,  and  on  the  ll'lli  ilay,  IfiiO,  wrote  the 
emperor,  who  was  still  in  Spain :  "  Your  Majesty 
should  go  into  Germany,  and  there  shew  some  favour 
to  one  Martin  Luther,  who  is  at  the  court  of  Saxony, 
and,  by  his  discourses,  is  giving  much  uneasiness  to  the 
court  of  Rome."  Such,  at  the  outset,  was  the  light  in 
which  Charles  viewed  the  matter.  His  object  was  not 
to  know  on  which  side  truth  or  error  lay,  or  to  ascer- 
tain what  the  great  interest  of  Germany  demanded. 
AVhat  does  policy  require,  and  by  what  means  can  the 
pope  be  induced  to  support  the  emperor  ?  This  was 
the  whole  question,  and  at  Rome  was  well  known  to  be 
so.  The  ministers  of  Charles  gave  Aleander  a  hint  of 
the  plan  which  their  master  meant  to  follow.  "  The 
emperor,"  said  tliey,  "will  act  towards  the  pope  as  the 
pope  acts  towards  the  emperor ;  for  he  cares  not  to  in- 
crease the  power  of  his  rivals,  and,  in  particular,  of  the 
King  of  France."  At  these  words  the  imperious  nuncio 
gave  vent  to  his  indignation  :  "  What ! "  replied  he, 
"  even  should  the  pope  abandon  the  emperor,  must  the 
emperor  abandon  religion  I  If  Charles  means  thus  to 
take  his  revenge,  ...  let  him  tremble !  This 
unprincipled  course  will  turn  against  himself."  The 
imperial  diplomatists  were  not  moved  by  the  menaces 
of  the  nuncio. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Lutlicr  on  Confession— True  Absolution— Antichrist— Rally  around  Luther— 
Satires— Ulrich  von  Hiitten— Lucas  Cranach- The  Carnival  at  Wittem- 
berg— Staupitz  Intimidated— Luther's  Labours— Luther's  Humility- 
Progress  of  the  Reformation. 

If  the  legates  of  Rome  failed  with  the  mighty  of  the 
world,  the  inferior  agents  of  the  papacy  succeeded  in 
producing  disturbance  among  the  weak.  The  militia 
of  Rome  had  heard  the  command  of  their  chief.  Fana- 
tical priests  employed  the  bull  in  alarming  consciences  ; 
and  honest,  but  ill-informed,  ecclesiastics  regarded  it  as 
a  sacred  duty  to  act  confoi'mably  to  the  instructions  of 
the  pope.  Luther  had  begun  his  struggle  against  Rome 
in  the  confessional,  and  in  the  confessional  Rome  gave 
battle  to  the  adherents  of  the  reformer.     The  bull, 


though  openly  contemned  by  the  nation,  became  power- 
ful in  these  solitary  tribunals.  "  Have  you  read  the 
writings  of  Luther '!"  demanded  the  confessors ;  "  do 
you  possess  them?  do  you  regard  them  as  sound,  or 
as  heretical?"  If  the  penitent  hesitated  to  pronounce 
the  anathema,  the  priest  refused  him  absolution.  Sev- 
eral consciences  were  troubled.  The  people  were 
strongly  agitated.  This  skilful  manoeuvre  promised  to 
restore  to  the  papal  yoke  whole  districts  already  gained 
to  the  Gospel.  Rome  congratulated  herself  on  having, 
in  the  tliirlemth  e.niiiry.  erected  ;i  tribunal  destined  to 
bring  the  tree  ennseieiiees  (if  Christians  under  subjec- 
tion to  the  priests.  While  it  continues  in  force  her 
reign  is  not  ended. 

Luther  became  aware  of  these  circumstances. 
Single-handed  what  will  he  do  to  defeat  the  ma- 
noeuvre ?  The  Word — the  Word  uttered  loudly  and 
boldly:  such  is  his  weapon.  The  AVord  will  search 
out  these  alarmed  consciences,  these  friglitened  souls, 
and  strengthen  them.  A  powerful  impulse  was  re- 
quired ;  and  Luther's  voice  was  heard  addressing  peni- 
tents with  heroic  boldness ;  and  a  noble  disregard  of 
all  secondary  considerations.  "  When  you  are  asked," 
says  he,  "whether  or  not  you  approve  my  books, 
answer,  '  You  are  a  confessor ;  and  not  au  inquisitor 
or  a  gaoler.  My  duty  is  to  confess  what  my  con- 
science dictates ;  yours  not  to  probe  and  discover  the 
secrets  of  my  heart.  Give  me  absolution,  and  there- 
after dispute  with  Luther,  the  pope,  and  whomsoever 
you  please ;  but  do  not  connect  the  sacrament  of  peace 
with  strife  and  combat.'  If  the  confessor  will  not 
yield,  then,"  continues  Luther,  "I  would  rather  dis- 
pense with  his  absolution.  Give  yourself  no  uneasi- 
ness ;  if  man  will  not  absolve  you,  God  will  absolve 
you.  Rejoice  in  that  you  are  absolved  by  God  him- 
self ;  and  present  yourself  without  fear  at  the  sacra- 
ment of  the  altar.  The  priest  will  have  to  account  at 
the  final  judgment  for  the  absolution  which  he  shall 
have  refused  you.  They  may  indeed  refuse  us  the 
sacrament ;  but  they  cannot  deprive  us  of  the  strength 
and  gi'ace  which  God  has  attached  to  it.  God  has 
placed  salvation  neither  in  their  will  nor  in  their 
power;  but  in  oiu'  faith.  Leave  their  sacrament, 
altar,  priest,  church :  the  AVord  of  God  condemned  in 
the  bull  is  more  than  all  these  things.  The  soid  can 
dispense  with  the  sacrament ;  but  cannot  live  without 
the  Word.  Christ,  the  true  Bishop,  will  himself 
undertake  to  nourish  you  spiritually." 

Thus  Luther's  voice  found  its  way  into  families, 
and  alarmed  consciences,  unparting  to  them  coiu-age 
and  faith.  But  it  was  not  enough  for  him  merely  to 
defend  himself ;  he  felt  it  his  duty  to  attack  and 
retm'n  blow  for  blow.  Ambrose  Catherinus,  a  Roman 
theologian,  had  written  against  him.  "I  will  stir  up 
the  bile  of  the  Italian  beast,"  said  Luther ;  and  he  kept 
his  word.  In  his  reply,  he  proved,  by  the  revelations 
of  Daniel  and  St.  John,  by  the  epistles  of  St.  Paul, 
St.  Peter,  and  St.  Jude,  that  the  reign  of  Antichrist, 
predicted  and  described  in  the  Bible,  was  the  papacy. 
"I  know  for  certain,"  says  he  in  conchision,  "that  our 
Lord  Jesus  Clu-ist  lives  and  reigns.  Strong  in  this 
assurance,  I  would  not  fear  several  thousands  of  popes. 
May  God  at  length  visit  you  according  to  His  infinite 
power,  and  cause  the  day  of  the  glorious  advent  of 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


His  Son  to  shine, — that  day  in  which  He  will  destroy 
the  wicked.     And  let  all  the  people  say,  Amen  ! " 

And  all  the  people  did  say.  Amen!  A  holy  fear 
took  possession  of  men's  souls.  Tliey  saw  Antichrist 
seated  on  the  pontifical  throne.  This  new  idea — an 
idea  which  derived  great  force  from  the  prophetical 
description — being  thrown  by  Luther  into  the  midst  of 
his  age,  gave  Rome  a  dreadful  shock.  Faith  in  the 
Divine  Word  was  substituted  for  that  which,  till  then, 
the  Church  alone  had  obtained ;  and  the  power  of  the 
pope,  which  had  long  been  adored  by  the  people,  be- 
came the  object  of  their  hatred  and  terror. 

Germany  replied  to  the  papal  bull  by  surrounding 
Luther  with  acclamation.  The  plague  was  in  Wittem- 
berg,  and  yet  arrivals  of  new  students  daily  took 
place ;  while  from  four  to  six  hundred  pupils  regularly 
took  their  seats  in  the  academic  halls  at  the  feet  of 
Luther  and  Melancthou.  The  church  of  the  convent 
and  the  town  church  were  too  small  for  the  crowds 
eager  to  hear  the  words  of  the  reformer.  The  prior  of 
the  Augustines  was  in  terror  lest  these  churches  should 
give  way  under  the  pressure  of  the  audience.  But  the 
movement  was  not  confined  within  the  walls  of  Wit- 
temberg :  it  extended  over  Germany.  Letters  full  of 
consolation  and  faith,  from  princes,  noble  and  learned 
men,  reached  Luther  from  all  quarters.  He  shewed 
tlie  chaplain  more  than  thirty  of  them. 

One  day  the  Margrave  of  Brandenburg,  with  several 
other  princes,  arrived  at  Wittemberg  to  visit  Luther. 
''  They  wished  to  see  the  man,"  said  the  Margrave. 
In  fact,  all  wished  to  see  the  man  whose  word  alarmed 
the  pope,  and  caused  the  pontiff  of  the  West  to  totter 
on  his  throne. 

The  enthusiasm  of  Luther's  friends  increased  from 
day  to  day.  "  Unparalleled  folly  of  Emser ! "  ex- 
claimed Melancthon,  "to  presume  to  measure  weapons 
with  our  Hercules, — overlooking  the  finger  of  God  in 
the  actions  of  Luther,  as  the  King  of  Egypt  over- 
looked it  in  the  hand  of  Moses."  The  mild  Melancthon 
found  strong  expressions  to  excite  those  who  seemed  to 
him  to  retrograde  or  remain  stationary.  "  Luther  has 
stood  up  for  the  truth,"  wrote  he  to  John  Hess,  "and 
yet  you  keep  silence.  He  still  breathes,  he  stiU  pros- 
pers, though  Leo  is  indignant,  and  roars  with  rage. 
Remember,  it  is  impossible  for  Roman  impiety  to 
approve  of  the  Gospel.  How  should  this  unhappy 
age  be  without  its  Judases,  Caiaphases,  Pilates,  and 
Herods  ?  Ai-m  yourself,  then,  with  the  power  of  the 
Word  of  God  against  such  adversaries." 

All  the  writings  of  Luther,  his  Lord's  Prayer,  and 
especially  a  new  edition  of  the  German  theology,  were 
eagerly  devoured.  Reading  societies  were  formed,  for 
the  piu-pose  of  procuring  his  works  for  the  use  of  the 
members.  Friends  made  new  impressions  of  them,  and 
circulated  them  by  means  of  hawkers.  They  were  also 
recommended  from  pulpits.  A  German  church  was 
demanded,  one  in  which  no  dignity  should  in  future  be 
conferred  on  any  one  who  was  not  able  to  preach  to 
the  people  in  Gei-man ;  and  the  German  bishops  of 
which  should  everywhere  oppose  the  papal  power. 

Moreover,  cutting  satires,  directed  against  the  leading 
ultramontanists,  were  circulated  throughout  the  pro- 
vinces of  the  empire.  The  opposition  united  all  its 
forces  around  this  new  doctrine,  which  give  it  precisely 


what  it  wanted,  by  justifying  it  in  regard  to  religion. 
The  greater  part  of  the  lawyers,  weary  of  the  quirks 
of  the  ecclesiastical  tribunals,  attached  themselves  to 
the  Reformation ;  but  its  cause  viras  keenly  embraced, 
above  all,  by  the  Humanists.  Ulrich  von  Hiitten  was 
indefatigable.  He  wrote  letters  to  Luther,  to  the  le- 
gates, and  the  leading  men  of  Germany.  "  I  tell  you, 
and  teU  you  again,  0  Marinus ! "  said  he  to  the  legate, 
Caraccioli,  in  one  of  his  publications,  "  the  mists  with 
which  you  blinded  us  are  cleared  away — the  Gospel  is 
preached — the  truth  proclaimed — the  absurdities  of 
Rome  treated  with  contempt — ^your  ordinances  languish 
and  die — liberty  begins." 

Not  contenting  himself  -svith  prose,  Hiitten  had  re- 
com-se  to  verse  also.  He  published  his  "  Cry  on  the 
Burning  by  Luther."  Appealing  to  Jesus  Clu'ist,  he 
prayed  Him  to  consume,  with  the  brightness  of  His 
countenance,  those  who  dared  to  deny  His  power.  He 
began,  moreover,  to  write  in  German.  "  Hitherto," 
said  he,  "  I  have  written  in  Latin,  a  language  which 
all  could  not  comprehend;  but  now  I  address  myself 
to  my  country."  Plis  German  rhymes  laid  open,  and 
enabled  the  people  to  read,  the  shameful  and  voluminous 
record  of  the  sins  of  the  Roman  Court.  But  Hiitten 
was  unwilling  to  confine  himself  to  mere  words ;  he 
was  impatient  to  bring  his  sword  into  the  struggle  ;  for 
he  thought  that  by  the  swords  and  halberds  of  the 
many  valiant  warriors,  of  which  Germany  was  proud, 
the  vengeance  of  God  was  to  be  accomplished.  Luther 
opposed  his  infatuated  projects.  "  I  would  not,"  said 
he,  "  that  men  should  fight  for  the  Gospel  by  violence 
and  carnage.     I  have  wi-itten  so  to  Hiitten." 

The  celebrated  painter,  Lucas  Cranach,  published, 
under  the  title  of  the  "Passion  of  Christ  and  Anti- 
christ," engravings  which  represented,  on  the  one  hand, 
the  splendour  and  magnificence  of  the  pope,  and  on  the 
other,  the  humility  and  sufferings  of  the  Redeemer. 
Luther  wrote  the  inscriptions.  These  engravings,  exe- 
cuted with  gi-eat  spirit,  produced  an  astonishing  effect. 
The  people  withdi-ew  from  a  church  which  appeared 
so  opposed  to  the  spii-it  of  its  Founder.  "  This  work," 
said  Luther,  "  is  excellent  for  the  laity." 

Several,  in  opposing  the  papacy,  had  recoiu-se  to 
arms,  which  ill  accorded  with  the  holiness  of  the 
Christian  life.  Emser,  in  replying  to  Luther's  tract, 
entitled,  "  To  the  Goat  of  Leipsic,"  had  published  one 
entitled,  "To  the  Bull  of  Wittemberg."  The  name 
was  not  ill  chosen.  But  at  Magdeburg,  Emser's  book 
was  hung  on  the  gallows,  with  this  inscription  :  "  The 
book  is  worthy  of  the  place;"  and  a  rod  was  placed 
beside  it,  to  indicate  the  punishment  which  the  autlior 
deserved.  At  Doeblin,  there  was  written  under  the 
papal  bull,  in  derision  of  its  impotent  thunders,  "The 
nest  is  here,  but  the  birds  are  flown." 

At  Wittemberg,  the  students,  taking  advantage  of 
the  carnival,  clothed  one  of  their  number  in  a  dress 
resembling  that  of  the  pope,  and  paraded  him  through 
the  streets  "pompously,  but  rather  too  ludicrously," 
says  Luther.  On  arriving  at  the  public  square,  they 
went  down  to  the  banks  of  the  river;  and  some  of 
them,  feigning  a  sudden  attack,  seemed  to  wish  to 
throw  the  pope  into  the  water ;  but  the  pope,  having 
no  liking  for  such  a  bath,  took  to  his  heels.  His 
cardinals,  bishops,  and  familiara,  followed  his  example, 


LUTHER'S  LABOURS  AND  HUMILITY. 


dispersing  over  all  the  quarters  of  tlie  town,  while  the 
students  continued  to  pursue  them.  There  was  not  a 
corner  of  AVitteniberg  wlierc  some  Roman  dignitary  did 
not  flee  before  the  shouts  and  laughter  of  the  inhabi- 
tants, who  were  all  in  motion.  "  The  enemy  of  Christ," 
says  Luther,  "wlio  sports  both  with  kings  and  with 
Christ  himself,  well  deserves  to  be  thus  sported  with." 
In  tliis  we  think  him  in  error.  Truth  is  too  beautifid, 
and  ought  never  to  be  made  to  walk  through  the  mire. 
She  ought  to  fight  witliout  such  auxiliaries  as  songs, 
caricatiu-es,  and  carnival  frolics.  It  may  be,  that  with- 
out these  popular  demonstrations  her  success  would  be 
less  apparent ;  but  it  would  be  more  pure,  and  conse- 
queutly  more  durable.  Be  this  as  it  may,  the  impru- 
dent and  passionate  conduct  of  the  court  of  Rome  had 
excited  universal  antipathy;  and  the  bidl,  by  which  the 
papacy  tliought  to  stifle  everything,  was  itself  the  cause 
of  general  revolt. 

Still  the  reformer's  whole  course  was  not  one  of 
exultation  and  triumph.  Behind  the  car  in  which  he 
was  drawn  by  his  zealous  countrymen,  transported 
with  admiration,  there  was  not  wanting  the  slave  ap- 
pointed to  remind  him  of  his  frailty.  Some  of  his 
friends  seemed  disposed  to  call  a  halt.  Staupitz,  whom 
he  called  his  father,  seemed  shaken.  The  pope  had 
accused  him,  and  Staupitz  had  declared  his  readiness 
to  submit  to  the  judgment  of  his  holiness.  "I  fear," 
said  Luther  to  him,  "  that  in  accepting  the  pope  for 
judge,  you  will  seem  to  throw  oil'  me  and  the  doctrines 
which  I  have  maintained.  If  Christ  loves  you,  He  will 
constrain  you  to  retract  your  letter.  Christ  is  con- 
demned, spoiled,  blasphemed ;  it  is  time  not  to  fear, 
but  to  cry  aloud.  Wherefore,  while  you  exhort  me  to 
humility,  I  exhort  you  to  pride ;  for  you  have  too  much 
humility,  just  as  I  have  too  much  of  its  opposite.  I 
shall  be  called  proud  and  avaricious,  an  adulterer,  a 
murderer,  an  antipope,  a  man  guUty  of  all  crimes.  It 
matters  not,  so  long  as  they  cannot  accuse  me  of  hav- 
ing kept  an  impious  silence  at  the  moment  when  the 
Lord  was  grieved,  and  said :  /  looked  on  mij  right  hand, 
and  beheld,  but  there  wees  no  man  that  mould  know  me. 
(Ps.  cxlii.  4.)  The  Word  of  Jesus  Christ  is  not  a 
Word  of  peace,  but  a  sword.  If  you  will  not  follow 
Jesus  Christ,  I  will  walk  alone,  advance  alone,  and 
gain  the  day." 

Thus  Luther,  like  the  commander  of  an  army,  kept 
an  eye  on  the  whole  field  of  battle  ;  and  while  he  urged 
fresh  troops  forward  into  the  thickest  of  the  fight, 
marked  those  who  appeared  faint-hearted,  and  recalled 
them  to  their  post.  His  exhortations  were  everywhere 
heard.  His  letters  rapidly  succeeded  each  other. 
Three  presses  were  constantly  employed  in  multipljang 
his  writings.  His  words  had  free  course  among  the 
people,  strengthened  consciences  which  the  confessionals 
had  alarmed,  raised  up  those  ready  to  faint  in  convents, 
and  maintained  the  rights  of  truth  in  t  he  palaces  of  princes. 

"  Amid  the  tempests  which  assail  me,"  wrote  he  to 
the  elector,    "  I   always  hoped  I  would  one  day  find 


peace.  But  I  now  see  it  was  only  a  man's  thought. 
Day  after  day  the  wave  is  rising,  and  I  already  stand 
iu  tlic  midst  of  the  ocean.  The  tempest  breaks  loose 
with  fearful  roar.  AV'ith  one  hand  I  grasp  the  sword, 
and  with  tlie  other  build  up  the  walls  of  Zion.  Her 
ancient  links  are  snapt  asunder,  broken  by  the  hand 
which  darted  the  thunders  of  excommunication  against 
her."  "  Excommunicated  by  the  bull,"  says  he,  "  I  am 
loosed  from  the  authority  of  the  pope  and  monastic 
laws.  With  joy  I  embrace  the  deliverance.  But  I  lay 
aside  neitlier  tlie  habit  of  the  order  nor  the  convent." 
And  yet,  amidst  all  this  agitation,  he  never  loses  sight 
of  the  dangers  liy  which  his  own  soul  is  beset  during 
the  strife.  He  feels  the  necessity  of  keeping  a  watch 
upon  himself.  "You  do  well  to  pray  for  me,"  wrote 
he  to  Pellican,  who  was  living  at  Bale.  "I  cannot 
devote  enough  of  time  to  holy  exercises.  My  life  is  a 
cross.  Y'ou  do  well  to  exhort  me  to  modesty.  I  feel 
the  want  of  it ;  but  I  am  not  my  own  master :  I  know 
not  what  spirit  rules  me.  I  wish  ill  to  nobody;  but  my 
enemies  press  me  with  such  fury,  that  I  am  not  suffi- 
ciently on  my  guard  against  the  seductions  of  Satan. 
Pray,  then,  for  me." 

Thus  both  the  reformer  and  the  Reformation  has- 
tened on  in  the  direction  iu  which  God  called  them. 
The  movement  extended.  Men  who  might  have  been 
expected  to  be  most  faithful  to  the  hierarchy,  began 
to  be  shaken.  "Even  those,"  says  Eek,  ingeniously 
enough,  "  who  hold  of  the  pope  the  best  benefices  and 
the  richest  canonries,  remain  mute  as  fishes.  Several 
among  them  even  extol  Luther  as  a  man  filled  with  the 
Spirit  of  God,  and  call  the  defenders  of  the  pope 
sophists  and  flatterers."  The  Church,  apparently  great 
in  power,  supported  by  the  treasures,  the  powers,  and 
the  armies  of  the  world,  but  in  reality  emaciated  and 
enfeebled,  without  love  to  God,  without  Christian  life, 
without  enthusiasm  for  the  truth,  found  herself  in  pre- 
sence of  men,  simple,  but  bold ;  men  who,  knowing 
that  God  is  with  those  who  combat  for  His  SVord,  had 
no  doubt  of  victory.  Every  age  has  experienced  how 
powerful  an  idea  is  in  penetrating  the  masses,  iu  arous- 
ing nations,  and,  if  need  be,  luu-rpng  thousands  to  the 
field  of  battle,  and  to  death  ;  but  if  such  is  the  influence 
of  a  human  idea,  what  must  be  the  power  of  an  idea 
sent  down  from  heaven  when  God  opens  the  door  of 
the  human  heart !  The  world  has  not  often  seen  such 
a  power  in  operation.  It  did  see  it,  however,  in  the 
first  days  of  Christianity,  and  in  those  of  the  Reforma- 
tion ;  and  it  will  see  it  in  days  yet  to  come.  Men  who 
disdained  tlie  world's  wealth  and  grandeiu-,  and  were 
contented  to  lead  a  life  of  pain  and  poverty,  began  to 
move  in  behalf  of  the  holiest  thing  upon  the  earth — 
the  doctrine  of  faith  and  of  grace.  In  this  heaving  of 
society  all  the  religious  elements  were  brought  into 
operation,  and  the  fire  of  enthusiasm  hm-ried  men 
boldly  forward  into  a  new  life,  an  epoch  of  renovation, 
which  had  just  opened  so  majestically,  and  towards 
which  Providence  was  hastening  the  nations. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


BOOK    VII. 

THE   DIET  OF  WOKJIS— (.JANUARY   TO   MAY)    1521. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Conquests  by  tho  Wonl  nf  Gixl— The  Diet  of  Worms— Difficulties— Charles 
Demands  Lulli-i  \\v  ]  N-i"!  to  Charles— State  ot  Men's  Miuds— 
Aleauiler's  Al  i  i        I  ■    -^'ts  out  without  Luther — Aleander 

Awakens  I!"it:       I  i  1  i.,n  of  the  Pope,  and  Communion  with 

Chi'ist— Fulnini ii  "i  th-  j'.iiU -Luther's  Motives  in  the  Reformation. 

The  Reformatiou,  which  commenced  with  the  sti-uggles 
of  an  humble  soul  in  the  cell  of  a  convent  at  Erfurt, 
had  never  ceased  to  advance.  An  obscure  individual, 
with  the  Word  of  life  in  his  hand,  had  stood  erect  in 
presence  of  worldly  grandeiu-,  and  made  it  tremble. 
This  "Word  he  had  opposed,  first,  to  Tetzel  and  his 
numerous  host ;  and  these  avaricious  merchants,  after  a 
momentary  resistance,  had  taken  flight.  Next,  he  had 
opposed  it  to  the  legate  of  Rome  at  Augsburg ;  and  the 
legate,  paralyzed,  liad  allowed  his  prey  to  escape.  At 
a  later  period  he  had  opposed  it  to  the  champions  of 
learning  in  the  halls  of  Leipsic;  and  the  astonished 
theologians  had  seen  their  syllogistic  weapons  broken 
to  pieces  in  then-  hands.  At  last  he  had  opposed  it  to 
tlie  pope,  who,  disturbed  in  his  sleep,  had  risen  up 
upon  his  throne,  and  thundered  at  the  troublesome 
monk ;  but  the  whole  power  of  the  head  of  Christen- 
dom this  Word  had  paralyzed.  The  Word  had  still  a 
last  struggle  to  maintain.  It  behoved  to  triumph  over 
the  emperor  of  the  West,  over  the  kings  and  princes  of 
the  earth ;  and  then,  victorious  over  all  the  powers  of 
the  world,  take  its  place  in  the  Chm'ch,  to  reign  in  it 
as  the  pure  Word  of  God. 

The  whole  kingdom  was  agitated.  Princes  and 
nobles,  knights  and  citizens,  clergy  and  laity,  town  and 
country,  all  were  engrossed.  A  mighty  rehgious  revo- 
lution, of  which  God  himself  was  the  prime  mover, 
but  which  was  also  deeply  rooted  in  the  minds  of  the 
people,  was  threatening  to  overthrow  the  long  vene- 
rated head  of  the  Roman  hierarchy.  A  new  genera- 
tion, of  a  grave,  profound,  active,  and  energetic  spirit, 
filled  the  universities,  towns,  courts,  and  castles,  the 
rural  districts,  and  not  unfrequently  cloisters  also.  The 
feeling  that  a  great  social  transformation  was  at  hand, 
animated  all  minds  with  holy  enthusiasm.  In  what 
relation  will  the  new  emperor  stand  to  this  movement 
of  the  age  ?  and  what  will  be  the  issue  of  the  mighty 
impulse,  by  which  all  feel  that  they  are  borne  along  ? 

A  solemn  diet  was  about  to  be  opened.  It  was  the 
first  imperial  assembly  over  which  the  youthful  Charles 
was  to  preside.  Nuremberg,  where,  in  virtue  of  the 
Golden  Bull,  it  ought  to  have  been  held,  being  desolated 
by  the  plague,  it  had  been  summoned  to  meet  at 
Worms,  on  the  6th  of  January,  1521.  Never  had  a 
diet  been  attended  by  so  many  princes.  All  desired  to 
be  present  at  this  first  act  of  the  government  of  the 
young  emperor,  and  to  make  a  display  of  their  power. 


Among  others,  the  young  Landgrave,  Philip  of  Hesse, 
who  was  afterwards  to  play  so  important  a  part  in 
the  Reformation,  arrived  at  Worms  in  the  middle  of 
January,  with  six  hundred  cavaliers,  among  them  men 
of  renowned  valour. 

But  there  was  a  still  more  powerful  motive  whicli 
induced  the  electors,  dukes,  archbishops,  landgraves, 
margraves,  bishops,  barons,  and  lords  of  the  empire,  as 
well  as  the  deputies  of  towns,  and  the  ambassadors  of 
the  kings  of  Christendom,  at  this  moment,  to  throng 
the  roads  leading  to  Worms  with  their  brilliant  equi- 
pages. It  had  been  announced  that  the  diet  would  be 
occupied  with  the  nomination  of  a  council  of  regency 
to  govern  the  empire  during  the  absence  of  Charles, 
with  the  jurisdiction  of  the  imperial  chamber,  and 
other  important  questions.  But  the  public  attention 
was  particularly  directed  to  another  matter,  which  the 
emperor  had  also  mentioned  in  his  letter  convening  the 
diet, — viz.,  the  Reformation.  The  great  interests  of 
politics  trembled  before  the  cause  of  the  mouk  of  Wit- 
temberg.  This  cause  was  the  principal  subject  of  con- 
versation among  all  personages  who  arrived  at  Worms. 

Everything  announced  that  the  diet  would  be  difli- 
cult  and  stormy.  Charles,  scarcely  twenty  years  of 
age,  pale  and  sickly,  yet  as  skilful  as  any  one  in  the 
gracefid  management  of  his  horse  and  in  breaking  a 
lance,  of  a  character  imperfectly  developed,  and  with  a 
grave  and  melancholy,  but  still  benevolent  expression 
of  countenance,  gave  no  proof,  as  yet,  of  distinguished 
talent,  and  seemed  not  to  have  adopted  a  decided 
course.  The  able  and  active  William  of  Croi,  lord  of 
Chievres,  who  was  his  grand  chamberlain,  his  governoi', 
and  prime  minister,  and  possessed  absolute  authority 
at  the  court,  died  at  Worms.  Numerous  ambitious 
projects  were  competing  with  each  other.  Many  pas- 
sions were  in  collision.  The  Spaniards  and  Belgians 
were  eager  to  insinuate  themselves  into  the  councils  of 
the  young  prince.  The  nuncios  multiplied  their  intri- 
gues, while  the  princes  of  Germany  spoke  out  boldly. 
A  struggle  might  have  been  foreseen,  yet  a  struggle  in 
which  the  principal  part  would  be  performed  by  the 
secret  movements  of  factions. 

Charles  opened  the  diet  on  the  28th  of  January, 
1521,  being  the  festival  of  Charlemagne.  He  had  a 
high  idea  of  the  importance  of  the  imperial  dignity. 
In  his  opening  address  he  said,  that  no  monarchy  could 
be  compared  to  the  Roman  empire,  to  which  of  old 
almost  the  whole  world  had  been  subject;  that,  un- 
happily, the  empu-e  was  now  only  the  shadow  of  what 
it  liad  been  ;  but  that  he  hoped,  by  means  of  his  king- 
doms and  powerfid  alliances,  to  re-establish  it  in  its 
ancient  glory. 

But  numerous  difficulties  immediately  presented  them- 
selves to  the  young  emperor.    How  will  he  act,  placed, 


ALARM  OF  ALEANDER. 


183 


as  he  is,  between  tlie  papal  luiucio  and  the  elector,  to 
whom  he  owes  his  crown  ?  How  can  he  avoid  dissatis- 
fying Aleandcr  or  Frederick  ?  The  former  urged  the 
emperor  to  execute  the  papal  bull,  and  the  latter  begged 
him  to  undertake  nothing  against  the  monk  without 
giving  him  a  hearing.  Wisliing  to  please  these  two 
o])i)osito  parties,  the  young  prince,  during  a  sojourn  at 
Oppenheim,  had  written  to  the  elector  to  bring  Luther 
to  Ihe  diet,  assuring  him  that  no  injustice  would  be 
done  him,  that  he  would  meet  with  no  violence,  and 
that  learned  men  would  confer  with  him. 

This  letter  of  Cluirles,  accompanied  by  letters  from 
Chievrcs  and  the  Count  of  Nassau,  throw  the  elector 
into  great  perplexity.  An  alliance  with  the  pope  might 
at  any  instant  become  necessary  to  the  young  and  am- 
bitious eni])eror,  and  in  that  case  it  was  all  over  with 
Luther.  Frederick,  by  taking  the  reformer  to  Worms, 
was,  ])orliaps,  taking  him  to  the  scaffold ;  and  yet  the 
orders  of  (jliarles  were  express.  The  elector  ordered 
Spalatin  to  acquaint  Luther  with  the  letters  which  he 
had  received.  "  The  enemy,"  said  the  chaplain  to  him, 
"  is  putting  everything  in  operation  to  hasten  on  tlie 
affaii"." 

Luther's  friends  trembled,  bnl  he  trembled  not.  He 
was  then  in  very  feeble  hf;ilili ;  iid  matter.  "If  lean- 
not  go  to  Worms  in  healtli,"  replied  h(^  to  the  elector, 
"  I  will  make  myself  be  carried  ;  since  the  emperor  calls 
me,  I  cannot  doubt  but  it  is  a  call  from  God  himself. 
If  they  mean  to  employ  violence  against  me,  as  is  prob- 
able, (for  assuredly  it  is  not  with  a  view  to  their  own  in- 
struction that  they  make  me  appear,)  I  leave  the  matter 
in  the  hands  of  the  Lord.  He  who  preserved  the  three 
young  men  in  the  furnace,  still  lives  and  reigns.  If  He 
is  not  pleased  to  sa^e  me,  my  life  is  but  a  small  matter ; 
only  let  us  not  allow  the  Gospel  to  be  exposed  to  the 
derision  of  the  wicked,  and  let  us  shed  our  blood  for  it 
sooner  than  permit  them  to  triumph.  Wliether  would 
my  life  or  my  death  contribute  most  to  the  general 
safety?  It  is  not  for  us  to  decide.  Let  us  only  pray 
to  God  that  our  young  emperor  may  not  commence  his 
reign  with  dipping  his  hands  in  my  blood ;  I  would  far 
rather  perish  by  the  sword  of  the  Romans.  You  know 
wliat  judgments  befel  the  Emperor  Sigismund  after  the 
murder  of  John  Huss.  Expect  everything  of  me  save 
flight  and  recantation ;  I  cannot  fly,  still  less  can  I 
recant." 

Before  receiving  this  letter  from  Luther,  the  elector 
had  taken  his  resolution.  As  he  was  advancing  in  the 
knowledge  of  the  Gospel,  he  began  to  be  more  decided 
in  his  measures.  Seeing  that  the  conference  of  Worms 
could  not  liave  a  happy  result,  he  wrote  to  the  emperor : 
"  It  seems  to  me  ditficult  to  bring  Luther  with  me  to 
AVorras;  relieve  me  from  the  task.  Besides,  I  have 
never  wished  to  take  his  doctrine  under  my  protection ; 
but  only  to  prevent  him  from  being  condemned  with- 
out a  hearing.  The  legates,  without  waiting  for  your 
orders,  have  proceeded  to  take  a  step,  insulting  both 
to  Luther  and  to  mo ;  and  I  mucli  fear,  that  in  this 
way  they  have  hurried  him  on  to  an  imprudent  act, 
which  might  expose  him  to  great  danger  were  he  to 
appear  at  the  diet."  The  elector  alluded  to  the  pile 
which  had  consumed  the  papal  buU. 

But  the  rumour  of  Luther's  journey  to  Worms  had 
aU-eady  spread.     Men  eager  for  novelty  rejoiced  at  it. 


The  emperor's  courtiers  were  alarmed ;  but  no  one  felt 
so  indignant  as  the  papal  legate.  Aleander,  on  his 
journey,  had  seen  how  deep  an  impression  the  Gospel 
which  Luther  preached  had  made  on  all  classes  of 
society.  Literary  men,  lawyers,  nobles,  tlie  lower 
clergy,  the  regular  orders,  and  the  ])eople,  were  gained 
to  the  Reformation.  These  friends  of  the  new  doctrine 
carried  their  heads  erect,  and  were  bold  in  their  lan- 
guage ;  while  fear  and  terror  froze  the  partizans  of 
Rome.  The  papacy  still  stood ;  but  its  props  were 
shaking.  A  noise  of  devastation  was  already  heard, 
somewhat  resembling  the  creaking  which  takes  place 
at  the  time  when  a  mountain  begins  to  slip. 

Aleander,  during  his  journey  to  Worms,  was  sadly 
annoyed.  AVhen  he  had  to  dine  or  sleep,  neither 
literary  men,  nor  nobles,  nor  priests,  even  among  the 
supposed  friends  of  the  pope,  durst  receive  him ;  and 
the  proud  nuncio  was  obliged  to  seek  an  asylum  in 
taverns  of  the  lowest  class.  He  was  thus  in  terror, 
and  had  no  doubt  that  his  life  was  in  great  danger. 
In  this  way  he  arrived  at  Worms ;  and  thenceforth  to 
his  Roman  fanaticism  was  added  resentment  for  the 
jiersonal  injuries  which  he  had  received.  He  imme- 
diately put  every  means  in  operation  to  prevent  the 
audacious  compearance  of  the  redoubtable  Luther. 
"  Would  it  not  be  scandalous,"  said  he,  "  to  see  laics 
re-investigating  a  cause  which  the  pope  had  already 
condemned?"  Nothing  alarms  a  Roman  courtier  so 
much  as  an  investigation  ;  and,  moreover,  an  inves- 
tigation to  take  place  in  Germany,  and  not  at  Rome. 
How  humiliating  even  should  Luther's  condemnation 
be  unanimously  decided !  And  it  was  not  even  certain 
that  such  would  be  the  result.  Will  not  the  powerful 
word  of  Luther,  which  has  already  done  such  havoc, 
involve  many  princes  and  nobles  in  inevitable  ruin  .' 
Aleander,  when  before  Charles,  insisted,  implored, 
threatened,  and  spoke  out  as  nuncio  of  the  head  of  the 
Church.  Charles  yielded ;  and  wrote  to  the  elector, 
that  the  time  granted  to  Luther  having  already  elapsed, 
the  monk  was  under  papal  excommunication  ;  and  that, 
therefore,  unless  he  were  willing  to  retract  his  writings, 
Frederick  must  leave  him  at  Wittemberg.  Frederick 
had  already  quitted  Saxony  without  Luther.  "  I  pray 
the  Lord  to  be  favourable  to  our  elector,"  were  the 
words  of  Melancthon  on  seeing  him  depart ;  "  on  him 
our  hopes  of  the  restoration  of  Christendom  repose. 
His  enemies  dare  everything,  ko!  TrorTa  \(flov  Kirrjo-o/ieVous; 
but  God  will  bring  to  nought  the  counsel  of  Ahitho- 
phel.  As  for  us,  let  us  do  oiu-  part  in  the  combat  by 
our  lessons  and  our  prayers."  Luther  was  deeply 
grieved  at  being  prohibited  to  appear  at  Worms. 

Aleander  did  not  consider  it  enough  that  Luther 
should  not  come  to  AVorms — he  wished  him  to  be  con- 
demned. Returning  incessantly  to  the  chasge  before 
the  princes,  prelates,  and  different  members  of  the 
diet,  he  accused  the  Augustine  monk  not  only  of  dis- 
obedience and  heresy,  but  sdso  of  sedition,  rebellion, 
impiety,  and  blasphemy.  The  very  accent  in  which 
he  spoke  betrayed  the  passions  by  which  he  was 
actuated ;  so  that  men  exclaimed.  It  is  hatred  and  love 
of  vengeance,  rather  than  zeal  and  piety,  that  excite 
him.  However  frequent,  however  vehement  liis  dis- 
courses were,  he  made  no  converts. 

Some  pointed  out  to  him  that  the  papal  bull  had 


HISTORY  OP  THE  REFORMATION. 


condemned  Luther  only  couditioually ;  others  did  not 
altogether  conceal  the  joy  which  they  felt  at  seeing 
Roman  pride  humbled.  The  ministers  of  the  emperor, 
on  the  one  hand,  and  the  ecclesiastical  electors,  on  the 
other,  affected  great  coldness, — the  former,  to  make  the 
pope  more  sensible  how  necessary  it  was  for  him  to 
league  with  their  master ;  the  latter,  in  order  to  induce 
him  to  pay  better  for  their  favour.  A  conviction  of 
Luther's  innocence  prevailed  in  the  assembly;  and 
Aleauder  coiiM  imt  ri-lvain  liis  iiidiLrniition 


But  the  coldness  ot  the  diet  did  not  try  the  patience 
of  the  legate  so  much  as  the  coldnebt.  of  Rome  Rome, 
which  had  so  long  refused  to  take  a  serious  view  of  the 
quarrel  of  the  drunk  German,  had  no  idea  that  a  bull 
of  the  sovereign  pontiff  could  prove  insulKcient  to  make 
him  humble  and  submissive.  She  had,  accordingly, 
resumed  her  wonted  seciu-ity;  no  longer  sending  either 
bull  or  purses  of  money.  But  how  was  it  possible 
without  money  to  succeed  in  such  a  business  ?  Rome 
must  be  awakened ;  and  Aleander  gives  the  alarm. 
Writing  to  the  Cardinal  de  Medicis,  he  says :  "  Ger- 
many is  detaching  herself  from  Rome ;  and  the  princes 
are  detaching  themselves  from  the  pope.  A  few  de- 
lays more — a  few  more  attempts  at  compromise,  and 
the  matter  is  past  hope.  Money!  money!  or  Germany 
is  lost." 

At  this  cry  Rome  awakes :  the  servants  of  the  papa- 
cy, laying  aside  their  torpor,  hastily  forge  their  dreaded 
thunder  at  the  Vatican.  The  pope  issues  a  new  bull ; 
and  the  excommunication  with  which,  till  then,  the 
heretical  doctor  had  been  merely  threatened,  is  in  dis- 
tinct terms  pronounced  against  him  and  all  his  adher- 
ents. Rome  herself,  breaking  the  last  thread  which 
still  attached  him  to  her  Church,  gave  Luther  greater 
freedom,  and  thereby  greater  power.  Thundered  at  by 
the  pope,  he,  with  new  affection,  took  refuge  in  Christ. 
Driven  from  the  external  temple,  he  felt  more  strongly 
that  he  was  himself  a  temple  inhabited  by  God. 

"It  is  a  glorious  thing,"  said  he,   "that  we  sinners. 


in  believing  on  Jesns  Christ,  and  eating  His  flesh,  have 
Him  within  us,  with  all  His  strength,  power,  wisdom, 
and  justice,  according  as  it  is  written.  He  w/io  believetk 
in  me,  dwelleth  in  me  and  I  in  him.  Admirable  dwell- 
ing !  marvellous  tabernacle !  far  superior  to  that  of 
Moses,  and  all  magnificently  adorned  within  with 
superb  tapestry,  veils  of  purple,  and  furniture  of  gold ; 
while  without,  as  on  the  tabernacle  which  God  ordered 
to  be  constructed  in  the  wilderness  of  Sinai,  is  seen 
only  a  rough  covering  of  beavers'  skins  or  goats'  hair.' 
Christians  often  stimible,  and  m  exteinil  appear  ince 
are  all  feebleness  and  disgrace  But  uo  matter  withm 
this  inhimity  md  tolly  dwells  secietly  a  po-ner  which 
the  woild  cannot  know,  but  which  o\ercomes  the 
\\(rld,  for  Christ  remameth  in  them  I  ha^e  some- 
times seen  Chiistians  walkmg  ^\lth  a  halt  and  in  gieat 
weakness ,  but  when  the  hour  of  combat  or  appearance 
at  the  woilds  bai  aiiived  Chiist,  of  a  sudden,  acted 
AMthiii  th  m  ml  th  \  bt  u  le  o  sti  3ng  and  lesolute, 
tl    t  tU   1  Ml   in  1    n    \    11    1  1    t  le  them 


In  regaid  to  Lutliur,  such  an  Ikuu  \\  as  about  to  peal, 
and  Christ,  in  whose  communion  he  dwelt,  was  not  to 
forsake  him.  Meanwhile,  Rome  naturally  rejected 
him.  The  reformer  and  all  his  partizans,  whatever 
their  rank  and  power,  were  anathematized,  and  de- 
prived personally,  as  well  as  in  their  descendants,  of  all 
their  dignities  and  effects.  Every  faitliful  Christian, 
as  he  loved  his  soul's  salvation,  was  ordered  to  shun 
the  sight  of  the  accursed  crew.  Wherever  heresy  had 
been  introduced,  the  priests  were,  on  Sundays  and  fes- 
tivals,— at  the  hour  when  the  churches  were  best 
filled, — solemnly  to  publish  the  excommunication. 
They  were  to  carry  away  the  vessel;  and  ornaments  of 
the  altar,  and  lay  the  cross  upon  the  ground ;  twelve 
priests,  with  torches  in  their  liaads,  were  to  kindle 
them,  and  dash  them  down  with  violence,  and  extin- 

1  Exodus  xxvL  7,  14. 


THE  C^LL  FROM  GOD.  ISCENE-.THE  GME  OF  THE  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY,  ERFURTH)  1505. 


LUTHERS  DECLARATION. 


giiish  them  by  trampling  them  with  their  feet ;  then 
the  bishop  was  to  publish  the  comlcinnation  of  the  im- 
pious men  ;  all  the  bells  were  to  be  rung  ;  the  bishops 
and  priests  were  to  pronounce  anathemas  and  male- 
dictions ;  and  preach  forcibly  against  Luther  and  his 
adherents. 

Twenty-two  days  had  elapsed  since  the  excommuni- 
cation had  been  published  at  Rome,  and  it  was  perhaps 
not  yet  known  in  Germany,  when  Luther,  learning 
that  there  was  again  some  talk  of  calling  him  to 
"Worms,  addressed  tlie  elector  iu  a  letter  written  in 
s\ich  terms  tluxt  Frederick  might  communicate  it  to 
the  diet.  IjUther  wished  to  correct  the  erroneous  im- 
pression of  the  princes,  and  frankly  explain  to  this 
august  tribunal  the  true  nature  of  a  cause  which  was 
so  much  misapprehended.  "I  rejoice  with  all  my 
heart,  most  serene  lord,"  said  he,  "that  his  imperial 
majesty  means  to  bring  this  affair  under  consideratiou. 
I  call  Jesus  Christ  to  witness,  that  it  is  the  cause  of 
Germany,  of  the  Catholic  Church,  of  the  Christian 
world,  and  of  God  himself,  .  .  .  and  not  of  any 
single  man — and  more  especially  such  a  man  as  I.  I 
am  ready  to  repair  to  Worms,  provided  I  have  a  safe- 
couduct,  and  learned,  pious,  and  impartial  judges.  I 
am  ready  to  answer  .  .  .  for  it  is  not  in  a  spirit 
of  rashness,  or  with  a  view  to  personal  advantage,  that 
I  have  taught  the  doctrine  with  which  I  am  re- 
proached ;  I  have  done  it  in  obedience  to  my  con- 
science, and  to  the  oath  which,  as  doctor,  I  took  to  the 
Holy  Scriptures ;  I  have  done  it  for  the  glory  of  God, 
the  safety  of  the  Christian  Church,  the  good  of  the 
German  nation,  and  the  extirpation  of  many  supersti- 
tious, abuses,  and  evils,  disgrace,  tyranny,  blasphemy, 
and  impiety." 

This  declaration,  iu  the  solemn  eirciunstances  in 
which  Luther  made  it,  is  deserving  of  our  attention. 
"We  here  see  the  motives  which  influenced  him,  and  the 
primary  causes  which  led  to  the  renovation  of  Chris- 
tian society.  These  were  something  more  than  monkish 
jealousy  or  a  wish  to  marry. 


CHAPTER  II. 

A  Foreign  Prince— Advice  of  Politicians— Conference  between 
and  the  Elector's  Chancellor— Uselessness  of  these  Manoei 
der's  Activity— Luther's  Sayings— Charles  gives  in  to  the  Pope. 


But  all  this  was  of  no  importance  in  the  eyes  of  politi- 
cians. How  high  soever  the  idea  which  Charles  enter- 
tained of  the  imperial  dignity,  it  was  not  in  Germany 
that  his  interests  and  policy  centred.  He  was  always 
a  Duke  of  Burgundy,  who,  to  several  sceptres,  added 
the  first  crown  of  Christendom.  Strange !  at  the 
moment  of  her  thorough  transformation,  Germany 
selected  for  her  head  a  foreign  prince,  iu  whose  eyes 
her  wants  and  tendencies  were  only  of  secondary  im- 
portance. The  religious  movement,  it  is  true,  was  not 
indifferent  to  the  j'oung  emperor ;  but  it  was  important 
in  his  eyes  only  in  so  far  as  it  menaced  the  pope. 
War  between  Charles  and  France  was  inevitable,  and 


its  chief  seat  was  necessarily  to  be  in  Italy.  An  alli- 
ance with  the  pope  thus  became  every  day  more  neces- 
sary to  the  schemes  of  Charles.  He  would  fain  have 
either  detached  Frederick  from  Luther,  or  satisfied  the 
pope  without  offending  Frederick.  Several  of  those 
about  him  manifested,  in  regard  to  the  affairs  of  tiie 
Augustine  monk,  that  cold  disdain  which  politicians 
usually  affect  when  religion  is  in  question.  "  Let  us 
avoid  extremes,"  said  they.  "  Let  us  trammel  Luther 
by  negotiations,  and  reduce  him  to  silence  by  some 
kind  of  concession.  The  true  course  is  to  stifle  the 
embers,  not  stir  them  up.  If  the  monk  is  caught  in 
the  net,  we  have  gained  the  day.  By  accepting  a  com- 
promise, he  will  be  interdicted  and  imdone.  For  ap- 
pearance, some  external  reforms  will  be  devised  ;  the 
elector  will  be  satisfied,  the  pope  will  be  gained,  and 
affairs  will  resume  their  ordinary  course." 

Such  was  the  project  of  the  confidential  councillors 
of  the  emperor.  The  doctors  of  Wittemberg  seem 
to  have  divined  this  new  policy.  "  They  are  trying  in 
secret  to  gain  men's  minds,"  said  Melancthon,  "  and 
are  working  in  darkness."  John  Glapio,  the  confessor 
of  Charles  V., — a  man  of  rank,  a  skilful  courtier,  and 
an  intriguing  monk, — undertook  the  execution  of  the 
project.  Glapio  possessed  the  entire  confidence  of 
Charles,  who,  in  accordance  with  Spanish  manners, 
left  to  him  almost  entirely  the  management  of  matters 
relating  to  religion.  As  soon  as  Charles  was  appointed 
emperor,  Leo  X.  had  assiduously  endeavoured  to  gain 
Glapio  by  favours,  to  which  the  confessor  was  strongly 
alive.  There  was  no  way  in  which  he  could  make  a 
better  return  to  the  pope's  kindness  than  by  reducing 
heresy  to  silence,  and  he,  accordingly,  set  about  the 
task. 

One  of  the  elector's  councillors  was  Chancellor  Gre- 
gory Bruck,  or  Pontanus,  a  man  of  gi-eat  intelligence, 
decision,  and  courage,  who  knew  more  of  theology 
than  all  the  doctors,  and  whose  wisdom  was  a  match 
for  the  wiles  of  the  monks  at  the  emperor's  court. 
Glapio,  aware  of  the  influence  of  the  chancellor,  asked 
an  interview  with  him ;  and  coming  up  to  him  as  if  he 
had  been  the  friend  of  the  reformer,  said  to  him,  with 
an  expression  of  good  will :  "  I  was  delighted  when,  on 
reading  the  first  productions  of  Luther,  I  found  him  a 
vigorous  stock,  which  had  pushed  forth  noble  branches, 
and  which  gave  promise  to  the  Church  of  the  most 
precious  fruits.  Several  before  him,  it  is  true,  made 
the  same  discoveries ;  still,  none  but  he  has  had  the 
noble  courage  to  publish  the  truth  without  fear.  But 
when  I  read  his  book  on  the  '  Captivity  of  Babylon,' 
I  felt  as  if  beaten  and  bruised  from  head  to  foot."  "  I 
don't  believe,"  added  the  monk,  "  that  Luther  acknow- 
ledges himself  to  be  the  author.  I  do  not  find  in  it 
either  his  style  or  his  science."  .  .  .  After  some 
discussion,  the  confessor  continued :  "  Introduce  me  to 
the  elector,  and  I  will,  in  your  presence,  explain  to  him 
the  errors  of  Luther." 

The  chancellor  replied :  "  That  the  business  of  the 
diet  did  not  leave  any  leisure  to  his  highness,  who, 
moreover,  did  not  meddle  with  the  affair."  The  monk 
was  vexed  when  his  request  was  denied.  "  By  the 
way,"  said  the  chancellor,  "  as  you  say  there  is  no  evil 
without  a  remedy,  will  you  explain  yourself?" 

Assuming  a  confidential  air,  the  confessor  replied : 


HISTORY  OP  THE  REFORMATION. 


"  The  emperor  earnestly  desires  to  see  sucli  a  man  as 
Luther  reconciled  to  the  Church,  for  liis  books  (before 
the  publication  of  his  treatise  on  the  '  Captivity  of 
Babylon')  rather  pleased  his  majesty.  ...  It 
must,  doubtless,  have  been  Luther's  rage  at  the  bull 
which  dictated  that  work.  Let  him  declare  that  he 
did  not  wish  to  disturb  the  peace  of  the  Church,  and 
the  learned  of  all  nations  will  rally  around  him.  .  . 
Procure  me  an  audience  of  his  highness." 

The  chancellor  waited  upon  Frederick.  The  elector 
being  well  aware  that  any  kind  of  recantation  was  im- 
possible, replied:  "Tell  the  confessor  that  I  cannot 
comply  with  his  request ;  but  do  you  continue  the  con- 
ference." 

Glapio  received  this  message  with  great  demonstra- 
tions of  respect ;  and,  changing  the  attack,  said :  "  Let 
the  elector  name  some  confidential  persons  to  deliberate 
on  this  affair." 

Chancellor. — "  The  elector  does  not  profess  to  defend 
the  cause  of  Luther." 

Confessor. — "  Very  well,  do  you,  at  least,  discuss  it 
with  me.  .  .  .  Jesus  Christ  is  my  witness,  that 
all  I  do  is  from  love  to  the  Chm-ch,  and  to  Luther,  who 
has  opened  so  many  hearts  to  the  truth." 

The  chancellor  having  refused  to  undertake  what 
was  the  reformer's  own  task,  was  preparing  to  retire. 

"  Stay,"  said  the  monk  to  him. 

Cliancellor. — "What,  then,  is  to  be  done?" 

Confessor. — "  Let  Luther  deny  that  he  is  the  author 
of  the  '  Captivity  of  Babylon.' " 

Chancellor. — "But  the  papal  bull  condemns  all  his 
other  works." 

Confessor. — "  It  is  because  of  his  obstinacy.  If  he 
retracts  his  book,  the  pope,  in  the  plenitude  of  his 
power,  can  easily  restore  him  to  favour.  What  hopes 
may  we  not  cherish,  now  that  we  have  so  excellent  an 
emperor!"     .     .     . 

Perceiving  that  these  words  made  some  impression 
on  the  chancellor,  the  monk  hastened  to  add :  "  Luther 
always  insists  on  arguing  from  the  Bible.  The  Bible  ! 
.  .  .  it  is  like  wax,  and  may  be  stretched  and  bent 
at  pleasure.  I  undertake  to  find  in  the  Bible  opinions 
still  more  extraordinary  than  those  of  Luther.  He  is 
mistaken  when  he  converts  all  the  sayings  of  Jesus 
into  commandments."  Then,  wishing  to  work  also  on 
the  fears  of  the  chancellor,  he  added :  *'  What  would 
happen  if  to-day  or  to-morrow  the  emperor  were  to 
try  the  effect  of  arms?  .  .  .  Think  of  it."  He 
then  allowed  Pontanus  to  retire. 

The  confessor  prepared  new  snares.  "  After  living 
ten  years  with  him,"  said  Erasmus,  "we  should  not 
know  him." 

"  What  an  excellent  book  that  of  Luther's  on  '  Chris- 
tian Liberty,' "  said  he  to  the  chancellor,  when  he  saw 
him  a  few  days  after;  "what  wisdom!  what  talent! 
what  intellect ! — it  is  just  the  style  in  which  a  true 
scholar  ought  to  write.  Let  unexceptionable  persons 
be  chosen  on  either  side,  and  let  the  pope  and  Luther 
refer  to  their  judgment.  No  doubt  Luther  has  the 
best  of  it  on  several  articles.  I  will  speak  to  the  em- 
peror himself  on  the  subject.  Believe  me,  I  do  not 
say  these  things  to  you  on  my  own  suggestion.  I  have 
told  the  emperor  that  God  will  chastise  him,  as  well  as 
all  the  princes,  if  the  Church,  which  is  the  spouse  of 


Jesus  Christ,  is  not  washed  from  all  the  stains  by 
which  she  is  polluted.  I  have  added,  that  God  him- 
self had  raised  up  Luther,  and  had  ordered  him  to 
rebuke  men  sharply,  using  him  as  a  rod  to  punish  the 
sins  of  the  world." 

The  chancellor  hearing  these  words,  (they  convey 
the  impressions  of  the  time,  and  shew  what  was  then 
thought  of  Luther  even  by  his  opponents,)  thought  it 
right  to  express  his  astonishment  that  more  respect  was 
not  shewn  to  his  master.  "  Deliberations  on  this  sub- 
ject," said  he,  "  are  daily  carried  on  before  the  emperor, 
and  the  elector  is  not  invited  to  them.  It  seems  strange 
that  the  emperor,  who  owes  him  some  gratitude,  ex- 
cludes him  from  his  councils." 

Confessor. — "  I  have  been  present  only  once  at  these 
deliberations,  and  I  have  heard  the  emperor  resist  the 
solicitations  of  the  nuncios.  Five  years  hence  it  will 
be  seen  how  much  Charles  shall  have  done  for  the 
reformation  of  the  Church." 

"  The  elector,"  replied  Pontanus,  "  is  ignorant  of  the 
emperor's  intentions.  He  should  be  invited,  that  ho 
may  hear  them  stated." 

The  confessor  answered  with  a  deep  sigh :  "  I  call 
God  to  witness  how  ardently  I  desire  to  see  the  Eefor- 
mation  of  Christendom  accomplished." 

To  lengthen  out  the  affair,  and,  meanwhile,  keep 
Luther's  mouth  shut,  was  all  that  Glapio  had  in  view. 
At  all  events  Luther  must  not  come  to  Worms.  A 
dead  man  returning  from  the  other  world,  and  appear- 
ing in  the  midst  of  the  diet,  would  not  have  alarmed 
the  nuncios,  and  monks,  and  whole  host  of  the  pope, 
so  much  as  the  sight  of  the  Wittemborg  doctor. 

"  How  many  days  does  it  take  to  come  from  Wit- 
temberg  to  Worms  ?"  asked  the  monk  at  the  chancel- 
lor, affecting  an  air  of  indifference ;  then,  begging 
Pontanus  to  present  his  very  humble  respects  to  the 
elector,  he  departed. 

Such  were  the  manoeuvres  of  the  courtiers.  The 
firmness  of  Pontanus  outwitted  them.  This  upright 
man  was  immoveable  as  a  rock  in  all  negotiations. 
Moreover,  the  Roman  monks  fell  into  the  very  snares 
which  they  were  laying  for  their  enemies.  "The 
Christian,"  says  Luther,  in  his  figurative  language,  "  is 
like  a  bird  fastened  near  a  trap.  The  wolves  and  foxes 
go  round  and  round,  and  make  a  dart  upon  it  to  de- 
vour it,  but  fall  into  the  pit  and  perish ;  while  the 
timid  bird  remains  alive.  Thus,  holy  angels  guard  us ; 
and  devouring  wolves,  hypocrites,  and  persecutors, 
cannot  do  us  any  harm."  Not  only  were  the  con- 
fessor's artifices  unavailing ;  but,  moreover,  his  admis- 
sions confirmed  Frederick  in  the  belief  that  Luther  was 
in  the  right,  and  that  it  was  his  duty  to  defend  him. 

The  hearts  of  men  became  every  day  more  inclined 
towards  the  Gospel.  A  prior  of  the  Dominicans  pro- 
posed that  the  emperor,  the  kings  of  France,  Spain, 
England,  Portugal,  Hungary,  and  Poland,  the  pope, 
and  the  electors,  should  name  representatives  by  whom 
the  matter  should  be  decided.  "  Never,"  said  he,  "  has 
reference  been  made  to  the  pope  alone."  The  general 
feeling  became  such,  that  it  seemed  impossible  to  con- 
demn Luther  without  a  hearing  and  regular  conviction. 

Aleander  became  uneasy,  and  displayed  more  than 
wonted  energy.  It  is  no  longer  merely  against  the 
elector  and  Luther  that  he  has  to  contend.     He  is 


ALEANDER'S  EFFORTS  TO  CONDEMN  LUTHER. 


horrified  at  the  secret  negotiations  of  tlie  confessor, 
tlie  proposition  of  tlic  prior,  the  consent  of  Charles's 
ministers,  and  the  extreme  coldness  of  Roman  pioty 
among  the  most  devoted  friends  of  the  pope,  "  so  that 
one  would  have  tiiought,"  says  PuUavicini,  "  timt  a 
torrent  of  ice  had  passed  over  them."  lie  had  at 
leugtli  rccei\ed  gold  and  silver  from  Rome ;  and  held 
in  his  hand  energetic  briefs,  addressed  to  the  most 
powerful  personages  in  the  em])ire.  Afraid  that  his 
prey  might  escape,  ho  felt  that  now  was  the  time  to 
strike  a  decisive  blow.  He  dcspatcliod  the  briefs, 
sliowcred  gold  and  silver  with  lilioral  hand,  doalt  out 
the  most  enticing  promises,  "and  pro\i(l(il,"  .s:iys  the 
cardinal  historian,  "with  this  triple  weapon,  he  .strove 
anew  to  turn  the  wavering  assembly  of  the  electors  in 
favour  of  the  pope."  He  laboured,  .ilmve  all,  to  encircle 
the  emperor  with  his  snares.  Availing  himself  of  the 
differences  between  the  Belgian  and  the  Spanish  mini- 
sters, he  laid  close  siege  to  the  prince.  All  the  friends 
of  Rome,  awakened  by  his  voice,  nrged  young  Charles 
with  solicitations.  "Every  day,"  wrote  the  elector 
to  his  brother  John,  "  deliberations  are  held  against 
Luther :  the  demand  is,  that  he  be  put  under  the  ban 
of  the  pope  and  the  emperor ;  in  all  sorts  of  ways 
attempts  are  made  to  hurt  him.  Those  who  parade 
about  with  their  red  hats, — the  Romans,  with  all  their 
sect,  labour  in  the  task  with  indefatigable  zeal." 

In  fact  Aleander  urged  the  condemnation  of  the 
reformer  with  a  violence  which  Luther  terms  "  mar- 
vellous fury."  The  apostate  nuncio,  as  Luther  calls 
him,  hurried  by  passion  beyond  the  bounds  of  pru- 
dence, one  day  exclaimed :  "  If  you  mean,  0  Germans, 
to  shake  off  the  yoke  of  Roman  obedience,  we  will  act 
so,  that,  setting  the  one  against  the  other,  as  an  ex- 
terminating sword,  you  will  all  perish  in  your  own 
blood."  "Such,"  adds  the  reformer,  "is  the  pope's 
method  of  feeding  the  sheep  of  Christ." 

Luther  himself  spoke  a  very  different  language.  He 
made  no  demand  of  a  personal  nature.  "  Luther  is 
ready,"  said  Melancthon,  "  to  purchase  the  glory  and 
advancement  of  the  Gospel  with  his  life."  But  he 
trembled  at  the  thought  of  the  disasters  of  which  his 
death  might  be  the  signal.  He  saw  a  people  led 
astray,  and  perhaps  avenging  his  martyrdom  in  the 
blood  of  his  enemies,  especially  the  priests.  He  re- 
coiled from  the  fearful  responsibility.  "  God,"  said  he, 
"  arrests  the  fury  of  His  enemies ;  but  should  it  break 
forth,  ...  a  storm  will  burst  upon  the  priests 
similar  to  that  which  ravaged  Bohemia.  .  .  .  lam 
clear  of  it ;  for  I  have  earnestly  besought  the  German 
nobility  to  arrest  the  Romans  by  wisdom,  and  not  by 
the  sword.  To  war  upon  priests — a  body  without 
courage  and  strength — is  to  war  upon  women  and 
children." 

Charles  did  not  withstand  the  solicitations  of  the 
nuncio.  His  Belgian  and  Spanish  devotion  had  been 
developed  by  his  preceptor  Adrian,  who  afterwards 
occupied  the  pontifical  throne.  The  pope  liad  addressed 
a  brief  to  him,  imploring  him  to  give  legal  effect  to  the 
bull  by  an  impei-ial  edict.  "In  vain,"  said  he  to  him, 
"  shall  God  have  invested  you  with  the  sword  of  su- 
preme power,  if  you  do  not  employ  it  both  against 
infidels,  and  also  against  heretics,  who  are  far  worse 
than  infidels."     One  day,  accordingly,  in  the  beginning 


of  February,  at  the  moment  when  everything  was 
ready  at  Worms  for  a  brilliant  tournament,  and  after 
the  emperor's  tent  had  actually  been  erected,  tlie 
princes  who  were  preparing  to  attend  the  fete,  were 
summoned  to  repair  to  the  imperial  palace.  There  the 
papal  bull  was  read  to  them  ;  and  they  were  presented 
with  a  stringent  edict,  enjoining  the  execution  of  it. 
"If  yon  li:i\e  anything  better  to  propose,"  added  the 
emperor  in  ihe  usual  form,  "I  am  ready  to  hear  you." 
Aniiiialrtl  lUliales  then  began  in  the  diet.  "The 
monk,"  ^^J'ole  the  deputy  of  one  of  the  German  free 
towns,  "  gives  us  a  great  deal  to  do.  Some  would  like 
to  crucify  him,  and  I  don't  think  that  he  will  escape ; 
the  only  thing  to  be  feared  is,  that  he  may  rise  again 
on  the  third  day."  The  emperor  hail  tliouglit  he  would 
be  able  to  publish  his  edict  without  oiiposition  on  the 
[)art  of  the  states ;  but  it  was  not  so.  Men's  minds 
were  not  prepared,  and  it  was  necessary  to  gain  the 
diet.  "  Convince  this  assembly,"  said  the  young  mon- 
arch to  the  nuncio.  This  was  just  what  Aleander 
desired ;  and  he  received  a  promise  of  being  admitted 
to  the  diet  on  the  13th  February. 


CHAPTER  III. 

Aleander  Admitted  to  the  Diet — Aleander's  Address— Luther  Accused — 
Rome  Defended— Appeal  to  Charles  against  Luther  — Effect  of  the 
Nuncio's  Address. 

The  nuncio  prepared  for  the  solemn  audience.  The 
tiisk  was  important,  but  Aleander  was  worthy  of  it. 
The  ambassador  of  the  sovereign  pontiff  was  surrounded 
with  all  the  splendour  of  his  office ;  he  was,  moreover, 
one  of  the  most  eloquent  men  of  his  age.  The  friends 
of  the  Reformation  looked  fonvard  to  the  sitting  not 
without  fear.  The  elector,  under  the  pretext  of  indis- 
position, kept  away;  but  he  ordered  some  of  his  coun- 
cillors to  attend  and  give  heed  to  the  nuncio's  address. 

On  the  appointed  day  Aleander  proceeded  to  the 
hall  of  the  assembled  princes.  Men's  minds  were  ex- 
cited; several  thought  of  Annas  or  Caiaphas  repair- 
ing to  Pilate's  judgment  hall  to  demand  the  life  of  Him 
who  vi&s perverting  the  nation,  (Luke  xxiii.  2.)  "At  the 
moment  when  the  nuncio  was  about  to  step  across  the 
threshold,  the  officer  of  the  diet,"says  Pallavicini,  "came 
briskly  up  to  him,  took  him  by  the  breast,  and  pushed 
him  back."  "  He  was  a  Lutheran  at  heart,"  adds  the 
Roman  historian.  If  the  story  is  true,  it  doubtless  be- 
trays strange  passion  in  the  officer ;  but,  at  the  same 
time,  gives  an  idea  of  the  powerful  infineuce  which 
Luther's  doctrine  had  produced  even  on  the  doorkeepers 
of  the  imperial  council.  Proud  Aleander,  haughtily 
dra^ving  himself  up,  moved  on,  and  entered  the  hall. 
Never  had  Rome  been  called  to  make  her  apology  be- 
fore so  august  an  assembly.  Tlie  nuncio  placed  before 
him  the  judicial  docimieuts  which  he  judged  necessary, 
— the  works  of  Luther,  and  the  papal  bulls.  Silence 
being  called,  he  spoke  as  follows : — 

"  Most  august  emperor ! — most  puissant  princes  ! — 
most  excellent  deputies ! — I  come  before  you  to  main- 


188 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


taiu  a  cause  for  wliich  my  heart  burns  with  the  most 
ardent  affection.  The  suljject  is,  the  preservation  on 
my  master's  head  of  that  tiara  which  is  reverenced  by 
all, — the  maintenance  of  that  papal  throne,  for  which 
I  am  ready  to  give  my  body  to  the  flames,  could  the 
monster  who  has  engendered  the  growing  heresy  be 
consumed  by  the  same  pile,  and  mingle  his  ashes  with 
mine.' 

"  No !  the  disagi-eement  between  Luther  and  Rome 
turns  not  on  the  interests  of  the  pope.  Luther's  books 
are  before  me,  and  any  man  with  eyes  in  his  head  may 
perceive  that  the  holy  doctrines  of  the  Church  are  the 
object  of  his  attack.  He  teaches  that  those  only  com- 
municate worthily  whose  consciences  are  filled  with 
sadness  and  confusion  for  their  sins ;  and  that  there  is 
no  justification  in  baptism,  without  faith  in  the  pro- 
mise of  which  baptism  is  the  pledge.  He  denies  the 
necessity  of  our  works  to  obtain  celestial  glory.  He 
denies  that  we  have  liberty  and  power  to  observe 
natural  and  Divine  law.  He  affirms  that  we  sin  neces- 
sarily in  all  our  actions.  Did  ever  the  arsenal  of  hell 
send  forth  arrows  better  fitted  to  loose  the  reins  of 
modesty?  ...  He  preaches  the  abolition  of  reli- 
gious vows.  Can  more  sacrilegious  impiety  be  ima- 
gined ?  .  .  .  What  desolation  will  not  be  seen  in 
the  world,  when  those  who  ought  to  be  the  leaven  of 
the  people  shall  have  thrown  aside  their  sacred  vest- 
ments, abandoned  the  temples  which  re-echoed  with 
their  holy  hymns,  and  plunged  into  adultery,  incest, 
and  dissoluteness !     .     .     . 

"  Shall  I  enumerate  all  the  crimes  of  this  audacious 
monk  ?  He  sins  against  the  dead,  for  ho  denies  purga- 
tory; he  sins  against  heaven,  for  he  says  he  would  not 
believe  an  angel  from  heaven ;  he  sins  against  the 
Church,  for  he  pretends  that  all  Christians  are  priests ; 
he  sins  against  the  saints,  for  he  despises  their  vener- 
able writings ;  he  sins  against  the  councils,  for  he  terms 
that  of  Constance  an  assembly  of  demons ;  he  sins 
against  the  world,  for  he  forbids  the  punishment  of 
death  to  be  inflicted  on  any  one  who  has  not  committed 
a  mortal  sin.  Some  say  he  is  a  pious  man.  .  .  . 
I  have  no  wish  to  attack  his  life,  I  would  only  remind 
this  assembly  that  the  devil  deceives  men  by  semblances 
of  truth." 

Aleander  having  spoken  of  the  condemnation  of 
purgatory  by  the  Council  of  Florence,  laid  the  papal 
bull  on  this  council  at  the  feet  of  the  emperor.  The 
Archbishop  of  Mentz  took  it  up,  and  handed  it  to  the 
archbishops  of  Cologne  and  Treves,  who  received  it 
reverently,  and  passed  it  to  the  other  princes.  The 
nuncio,  having  thus  accused  Luther,  now  proceeded  to 
the  second  point,  which  was  to  justify  Rome. 

"At  Rome,  says  Luther,  they  promise  one  thing 
with  the  lip,  and  do  its  opposite  with  the  hand.  If  this 
fact  is  true,  must  not  the  inference  be  the  very  reverse 
of  what  he  draws  from  it  ?  If  the  ministers  of  a  reli- 
gion live  conformably  to  its  precepts,  it  is  a  proof  that 

1  Seckendorff,  and  after  him  several  Protestant  historians,  insist  that 
Pallavicini  himself  composed  the  address  which  be  puts  in  the  mouth  of 
Aleander.  It  is  true  the  cardinal  historian  states  that  he  gave  it  the  form 
in  which  it  appears  ;  but  he  intimates  the  sources  from  which  he  drew  it, 
particularly  the  letters  of  Aleander  deposited  in  the  archives  of  the  Vatican. 
I  think,  therefore,  that  to  reject  it  altogether  would  betray  partiality.  I 
have  collected  some  additional  passages  of  the  speech  from  other  sources, 
Protestant  and  Romish. 


it  is  false.  Such  was  the  religion  of  the  ancient 
Romans.  .  .  .  Such  is  that  of  Mohammed,  and  that 
of  Luther  himself ;  but  such  is  not  the  religion  which 
the  pontiffs  of  Rome  teach  us.  Yes,  the  doctrine  which 
they  confess  condemns  all  as  faulty,  several  as  culpa- 
ble, and  some  even  (I  say  it  candidly)  as  criminal. 
.  .  .  This  doctrine  delivers  their  actions  to  the 
censm-e  of  men  during  their  life,  and  to  historical  in- 
famy after  their  death.  Now,  what  pleasure,  what 
advantage,  I  ask,  could  the  pontiffs  have  found  in  in- 
venting such  a  religion  1 

"  Tlie  Church,  it  will  be  said,  was  not  governed  in 
primitive  times  by  Roman  pontiffs — what  must  the 
conclusion  be?  With  such  arguments  they  might 
persuade  men  to  live  on  acorns,  and  princesses  to  be 
their  own  washerwomen." 

But  it  was  against  his  adversary — the  reformer — that 
the  nuncio  chiefly  dii-ected  his  attack.  Full  of  indig- 
nation against  those  who  said  that  he  ought  to  be  heard, 
he  exclaimed :  "  Luther  will  not  allow  any  one  to  in- 
struct him.  The  pope  summoned  hun  to  Rome ;  but 
he  did  not  obey.  The  pope  summoned  him  to  Augs- 
burg before  his  legate ;  and  he  would  not  appear 
without  a  safe-conduct  from  the  emperor, — (.  e.,  until 
the  hands  of  the  legate  were  tied,  and  nothing  left  free 
to  him  but  his  tongue.  Ah ! "  said  Aleander,  turning 
towards  Charles  V.,  "  I  supplicate  your  imperial  ma- 
jesty not  to  do  what  would  issue  in  disgrace.  Interfere 
not  with  a  matter  of  which  laics  have  no  right  to  take 
cognizance.  Do  your  own  work.  Let  Luther's  doc- 
trine be  interdicted  throughout  the  empire :  let  his 
writings  be  everywhere  burnt.  Fear  not:  there  is 
enough  in  the  writings  of  Luther  to  burn  a  hundred 
thousand  heretics.  .  .  .  And  what  have  we  to 
fear?  .  .  .  The  popiUace?  Before  the  battle 
they  seem  terrible  from  their  insolence ;  in  the  battle 
they  are  contemptible  from  their  cowardice.  Foreign 
princes  ?  The  King  of  France  has  prohibited  Luther's 
doctrine  from  entering  his  kingdom  ;  while  the  King  of 
Great  Britain  is  preparing  a  blow  for  it  with  his  royal 
hand.  You  know  what  the  feelings  of  Hungary,  Italy, 
and  Spain  are,  and  none  of  your  neighbours,  how  great 
soever  the  enmity  he  may  bear  to  yourself,  wishes  you 
anything  so  bad  as  this  heresy.  If  the  house  of  our 
enemy  is  adjacent  to  our  own,  we  may  wish  him  fever, 
but  not  pestilence.  .  .  .  Who  are  all  these  Lu- 
therans ?  A  huddle  of  insolent  grammarians,  corrupt 
priests,  disorderly  monks,  ignorant  advocates,  degraded 
nobles,  common  people,  misled  and  perverted.  Is  not 
the  Catholic  party  far  more  numei-ous,  able,  and 
powerful  ?  A  unanimous  decree  of  this  assembly  will 
enlighten  the  simple,  give  warning  to  the  imprudent, 
determine  those  who  are  hesitating,  and  confirm  the 
feeble.  .  .  .  But  if  the  axe  is  not  laid  to  the  root 
of  this  poisonous  shrub,  if  the  fatal  stroke  is  not  given 
to  it,  then  ...  I  see  it  covering  the  heritage  of 
Jesus  Christ  witli  its  branches,  changing  the  vineyard 
of  the  Lord  into  a  howling  forest,  transforming  the 
kingdom  of  God  into  a  den  of  wild  beasts,  and  throw- 
ing Germany  into  the  frightful  state  of  barbarism  and 
desolation  to  which  Asia  has  been  reduced  by  the 
superstition  of  Mohammed." 

The  nuncio  ceased.  He  had  spoken  for  three  hours. 
The  torrent  of  his  eloquence  had  moved  the  assembly. 


SPEECH  OF  DUKE  GEORGE. 


'•  Tlie  princes,  shaken  and  alamiecl,"  says  Cochlocus, 
"  looked  at  cacli  other ;  and  nuinnurs  were  soon  heard 
from  different  quarters  ap;ainst  Lutlier  and  his  parti- 
sans." Had  tlie  miglity  Lutlicr  been  present,  had  he 
been  permitted  to  answer  the  discourse,  had  he,  avail- 
ing himself  of  the  concession  forced  from  the  Roman 
orator  by  the  remembniiici'  of  lii<  ohl  master,  the 
infamous  Borgia,  been  ])irinilti'il  ti>  shew  that  these 
arguments,  designed  to  (Irtnul  Kmiic,  constituted  her 
condemnation,  and  that  tli<-  (Icuiiinc  which  gave  proof 
of  her  iniquity  was  not  invented  by  him,  as  the  orator 
said,  but  was  the  very  religion  which  Christ  had 
given  to  the  world,  and  which  tiie  Reformation  was 
establishing  in  its  primitive  lustre, — could  he  have  pre- 
sented an  exact  and  animated  picture  of  the  errors  and 
abuses  of  the  papacy,  and  shewn  how  it  had  perverted 
the  religion  of  Jesus  Christ  into  an  instrument  of 
aggrandisement  and  rapine, — the  effect  of  the  nuncio's 
harangue  would  have  been  neutralized  at  the  moment 
of  its  delivery;  but  nobody  rose  to  speak.  The  assem- 
bly remained  under  the  impression  of  tlie  address,  and, 
excited  and  carried  away,  shewed  tliemselves  ready 
violently  to  eradicate  the  heresy  of  Luther  from  the 
soil  of  the  empire. 

Still  the  victory  was  only  apparent.  It  was  the  will 
of  God  that  Rome  should  have  an  opportunity  of  dis- 
playing her  reasons  and  her  strength.  The  greatest  of 
lier  orators  had  addressed  the  assembled  princes,  and 
said  all  that  Rome  had  to  say.  But  the  last  effort  of 
the  papacy  was  the  very  thing  which  was  destined  to 
become,  in  regard  to  several  of  those  who  witnessed  it, 
the  signal  of  her  defeat.  If,  in  order  to  secure  the 
triumph  of  truth,  it  is  necessary  to  proclaim  it  aloud, 
so,  in  order  to  secure  the  destruction  of  error,  it  is  suffi- 
cient to  publish  it  without  reserve.  Neither  the  one 
nor  the  other,  in  order  to  accomplish  its  course,  should 
be  concealed.     The  light  judges  all  things. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Sentiments  of  the  Princes— Speech  of  Duke  George  — Character  of  the 
Reformation— A  hundred  and  one  Grievances — Charles  yields— Tactics 
of  Aleander — The  Grandees  of  Spain— Luther's  Peace — Death  and  not 
Retractation. 

A  FEW  days  sufficed  to  wear  off  these  first  impressions, 
as  always  happens  when  an  orator  shrouds  the  empti- 
ness of  his  arguments  in  high-sounding  phrases. 

The  majority  of  the  princes  were  ready  to  sacrifice 
Luther ;  but  none  were  disposed  to  sacrifice  the  rights 
of  the  empire,  and  the  redress  of  German  grievances. 
There  was  no  objection  to  give  up  the  insolent  monk 
who  had  dared  to  speak  so  loud ;  but  it  was  wished  to 
make  the  pope  so  much  the  more  sensible  of  the  justice 
of  a  reform  which  was  demanded  by  the  heads  of  the 
kingdom.  Accordingly,  it  was  the  greatest  personal 
euemy  of  Luther — Duke  George  of  Saxony — who  spoke 
most  energetically  against  the  encroachments  of  Rome. 
The  grandson  of  Podiebrad,  king  of  Bohemia,  repulsed 


by  the  doctrines  of  grace  which  the  reformer  proclaimed, 
had  not  yet  abandoned  the  hope  of  seeing  a  moral  and 
ecclesiastical  reform  ;  and  wliat  irritated  Iiini  so  much 
against  the  monk  of  Wittemberg,  was,  that  he  had 
spoiled  the  whole  affair  by  his  despised  doctrines.  But 
now,  seeing  the  nuncio  sought  to  confound  Luther  and 
reform  in  one  common  condemnation,  George  suddenly 
stood  up  among  the  assembled  princes,  and,  to  the 
great  astonishment  of  those  who  knew  his  hatred  to  the 
reformer,  said :  "  The  diet  must  not  forget  the  griev- 
ances of  which  it  complains  against  the  court  of  Rome. 
What  abuses  have  crept  into  our  states  !  The  annats 
which  the  emperor  granted  freely  for  the  good  of 
Christendom  now  demanded  as  a  debt, — the  Roman 
courtiers  every  day  inventing  new  ordinances,  in  order 
to  absorb,  sell,  and  farm  out  ecclesiastical  benefices, — 
a  multitude  of  transgressions  winked  at, — rich  offenders 
unworthily  tolerated,  while  those  who  have  no  means 
of  ransom  are  punished  without  pity, — the  popes  in- 
cessantly bestowing  expectancies  and  reversions  on 
the  inmates  of  their  palace,  to  the  detriment  of  those 
to  whom  the  benefices  belong,  —  the  commendams  of 
abbeys  and  convents  of  Rome  conferred  on  cardinals, 
bishops,  and  prelates,  who  appropriate  their  revenues, 
so  that  there  is  not  one  monk  in  convents  which  ought 
to  have  twenty  or  thirty, — stations  multiplied  without 
end,  and  indulgence  shops  established  in  all  the  streets 
and  squares  of  our  cities,  shops  of  St.  Anthony,  shops 
of  the  Holy  Spirit,  of  St.  Hubert,  of  St.  Cornelius,  of 
St.  Vincent,  and  many  others  besides, — societies  pur- 
chasing from  Rome  the  right  of  holding  such  markets, 
then  purchasing  from  their  bishop  the  right  of  exhibit- 
ing their  wares,  and,  in  order  to  procure  all  this  money, 
draining  and  emptying  the  pockets  of  the  poor, — the 
indulgence,  which  ought  to  be  granted  solely  for  the 
salvation  of  souls,  and  which  ougjit  to  be  merited  only 
by  prayers,  fastings,  and  the  salvation  of  souls,  sold  at 
a  regular  price, — the  officials  of  the  bishops  oppressing 
those  in  humble  life  with  penances  for  blasphemy, 
adultery,  debauchery,  the  violation  of  this  or  that  feast 
day,  while,  at  the  same  time,  not  even  censuring  eccle- 
siastics who  are  guilty  of  the  same  crimes, — penances 
imposed  on  the  penitent,  and  artfully  arranged,  so  that 
he  soon  falls  anew  into  the  same  fault,  and  pays  so 
much  the  more  money.  .  .  .  Such  are  some  of  the 
crying  abuses  of  Rome ;  all  sense  of  shame  has  been 
cast  off,  and  one  thing  only  is  pursued  .  .  money! 
money!  Hence,  preachers  who  ought  to  teach  the  I 
truth,  now  do  nothing  more  than  retail  lies — lies,  which 
are  not  only  tolerated,  but  recompensed,  because  the 
more  they  lie  the  more  they  gain.  From  this  polluted  1 
well  comes  forth  all  this  polluted  water.  Debauchery 
goes  hand  in  hand  with  avarice.  The  officials  cause 
women  to  come  to  their  houses  under  divers  pretexts,  j 
and  strive  to  seduce  the:a,  sometimes  by  menaces, 
sometimes  by  presents ;  or,  if  they  cannot  succeed,  in-  ! 
jure  them  in  their  reputation.  Ah !  the  scandals  caused 
by  the  clergy  precipitate  multitudes  of  poor  souls  into 
eternal  condemnation!  There  must  be  a  universal 
reform,  and  this  reform  must  be  accomplished  by  sum- 
moning a  general  council.  Wherefore,  most  excellent 
princes  and  lords,  with  submission  I  implore  you  to 
lose  no  time  in  the  consideration  of  this  matter."  Seve- 
ral days  after  Aleander's  address,  Duke  George  pro- 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


duced  the  list  of  grievances  wliich  he  had  euumerated. 
This  important  document  is  preserved  iu  the  archives 
of  Weimar. 

Luther  had  not  spoken  more  forcibly  against  the 
abuses  of  Rome;  but  he  had  doue  something  more. 
The  duke  pointed  out  the  evil ;  Luther  had,  along  with 
the  evil,  pointed  out  both  the  cause  and  the  cure.  He 
had  shewn  that  the  sinner  receives  the  true  indulgence, 
that  wliich  comes  from  God,  solely  by  faith  in  the 
grace  and  merits  of  Jesus  Christ ;  and  this  simple  but 
powei'ful  doctrine  had  overturned  all  the  markets  estab- 
lished by  the  priests.  "  How  can  one  become  pious  ?" 
asked  he  one  day.  "  A  Cordelier  will  reply,  Put  on  a 
grey  hood,  and  tie  a  cord  round  your  waist.  A  Eoman 
will  reply,  Hear  mass,  and  fast.  But  a  Christian  will 
say,  Faith  in  Christ  alone  justifies  and  saves.  Before 
works  we  must  have  eternal  life.  After  we  are  born 
anew,  and  made  childi-en  of  God  by  the  Word  of  grace, 
then  it  is  we  do  good  works." 

The  duke  spoke  the  language  of  a  secular  prince — 
Luther  the  language  of  a  reformer.  The  great  sore  of 
the  Church  was,  that  she  had  devoted  herself  entirely 
to  externals ;  had  made  all  her  works  and  her  graces 
to  consist  of  outward  and  material  things.  Indulgences 
had  carried  this  to  its  extreme  point,  and  pardon  (the 
most  spiritual  thing  in  Christianity)  had  been  purchased 
in  shops  like  meat  and  drink.  The  great  work  of 
Luther  consisted  in  his  availing  himself  of  this  extreme 
point  in  the  degeneracy  of  Christendom,  in  order  to 
bring  back  the  individual  and  the  Church  to  the  primi- 
tive source  of  life,  and  to  re-establish  the  reign  of  the 
Holy  Spirit  within  the  sanctuary  of  the  heart.  Here, 
as  often  happens,  the  cure  sprung  out  of  the  disease, 
and  the  two  extremes  met.  Henceforward  the  Church, 
which  during  so  many  ages  had  been  developed  exter- 
nally by  ceremonies,  observances,  and  human  practices, 
began  again  to  be  developed  within  by  faith,  hope,  and 
charity. 

The  duke's  address  produced  the  greater  effect  from 
his  opposition  to  Luther  being  well  known.  Other 
members  of  the  diet  stated  different  grievances.  The 
ecclesiastical  princes  themselves  supported  these  com- 
plaints. "  We  have  a  pontiff,"  said  they,  "  who  spends 
his  life  in  hunting  and  pleasure.  The  benefices  of 
Germany  are  given  at  Rome  to  huntsmen,  domestics, 
grooms,  stable-boys,  body  servants,  and  other  people 
of  that  class  ;  ignorant  impolished  people,  without  capa- 
city, and  entire  strangers  to  Germany."  The  diet 
appointed  a  commission  to  collect  all  these  grievances. 
Their  number  was  found  to  be  a  hundred  and  one. 
A  deputation,  consisting  of  secular  and  ecclesiastical 
princes,  presented  the  list  to  the  emperor,  imploring 
him  to  give  redi'ess,  as  he  had  engaged  to  do  at  his 
election.  "  How  many  Christian  souls  are  lost  ? " 
said  they  to  Charles  V.  "  How  many  depredations, 
how  much  extortion,  are  caused  by  the  scandals  with 
which  the  spiritual  chief  of  Christendom  is  environed? 
The  ruin  and  dishonour  of  our  people  must  be  pre- 
vented. Therefore,  we  all,  in  a  body,  supplicate  you 
most  humbly,  but  also  most  urgently,  to  ordain  a 
general  reformation,  to  undertake  it,  and  to  accomplish 
it."  There  was,  at  this  time,  in  Christian  society  an 
unseen  power  intlnencing  princes  and  their  subjects, 
— a  wisdom  from  above  dragging  forward  even  the 


adversaries  of  the  Reformation,  and  preparing  that 
emancipation  whose  appointed  hour  had  at  length 
arrived. 

Chai-les  could  not  be  insensible  to  these  remonstrances 
of  the  empire.  Neither  himself  nor  the  nuncio  had 
expected  them.  His  confessor  had  even  denounced  the 
vengeance  of  heaven  against  him  if  he  did  not  reform 
the  Church.  The  emperor  immediately  withdi-ew  the 
edict  which  ordered  Luther's  writings  to  be  committed 
to  the  flames  in  every  part  of  the  empire,  and  in  its 
place  substituted  a  provisional  order  remitting  these 
books  to  the  magistrates. 

T'his  did  not  satisfy  the  assembly,  who  were  de- 
sirous that  the  reformer  should  appear.  It  is  unjust, 
said  his  friends,  to  condemn  Luther  without  having 
heard  him,  and  without  knowing  from  himself  whether 
he  is  the  author  of  the  books  which  are  proposed  to  be 
burnt.  His  doctrine,  said  his  opponents,  has  so  taken 
possession  of  men's  hearts,  that  it  is  impossible  to  arrest 
their  progress  without  hearing  him.  There  need  be  no 
discnssion  with  him.  If  he  avows  his  wi-itings,  and 
refuses  to  retract  them,  then  all  of  us  —  electors, 
princes,  states  of  the  whole  empire,  true  to  the  faith  of 
our  ancestors — will,  in  a  body,  aid  your  majesty,  by 
all  the  means  in  our  power,  in  the  execution  of  your 
decrees. 

Aleander,  alarmed,  dreading  both  the  intrepidity  of 
Luther  and  the  ignorance  of  the  princes,  immediately 
set  himself  to  the  task  of  preventing  the  reformer's 
compearance.  He  went  from  the  ministers  of  Charles, 
to  the  princes  who  were  most  disposed  to  favour  the 
pope,  and  from  these  princes  to  the  emperor  himself. 
"It  is  unlawful,"  said  he,  "to  bring  into  question  what 
the  sovereign  pontiff  has  decided.  There  will  be  no 
discussion  with  Luther,  you  say;  but,  continued  he, 
will  not  tlie  power  of  this  audacious  man — will  not  the 
fire  of  his  eye,  and  the  eloquence  of  his  tongue,  and  the  i 
mysterious  spirit  which  animates  him,  be  suflicient  to 
excite  some  sedition  ?  Several  already  venerate  him  as 
a  saint;  and  you,  everywhere,  meet  with  his  portrait 
surrounded  with  a  halo  of  glory,  as  round  the  head  of 
the  Blessed.  If  it  is  determined  to  cite  Iiim,  at  least 
let  it  be  without  giving  him  the  protection  of  public 
faith."  These  last  words  were  meant  to  frighten 
Luther,  or  prepare  his  ruin. 

The  nuncio  found  easy  access  to  the  grandees  of 
Spain.  In  Spain,  as  in  Germany,  the  opposition  to  the 
Dominican  inquisitors  was  national.  The  yoke  of  the 
inquisition,  which  had  been  discontinued  for  a  time, 
had  just  been  re-established  by  Charles.  A  numerous 
party  in  the  Peninsula  sympathized  with  Luther ;  but 
it  was  not  so  with  the  great,  who,  on  the  banks  of  the 
Rhine,  again  met  with  what  they  had  hated  beyond  the 
Pyrenees.  Inflamed  with  the  most  violent  fanaticism, 
they  were  bent  on  annihilating  the  new  heresy.  In 
particular,  Frederick,  duke  of  Alba,  was  transported 
with  rage  whenever  the  subject  of  Reformation  was 
mooted.  His  wish  would  have  been  to  wade  in  the 
blood  of  all  its  adherents.  Luther  had  not  yet  been 
called  to  appear ;  and  yet  his  mere  name  was  already 
.agitating  all  the  grandees  of  Christendom  then  assem- 
bled at  Worms. 

The  man  who  was  thus  agitating  the  mighty  of  the 
earth  was  the  only  one  who  seemed  to  be  at  peace. 


CHARLES  V.  SUMMONS  LUTHER. 


The  news  from  Worms  wore  alarming.  Even  Luther's 
friends  were  frightened.  "  Nothing  now  is  left  us  but 
our  wishes  and  our  prayers,"  wrote  Mehmcthon  to 
Spalatin.  "Oh!  if  God  would  deign  to  ransom  the 
safety  of  the  Christian  people  by  my  l)lood."  But 
Luther  -was  a  stranger  to  fear.  SluUting  himself  up  in 
his  i)eaceful  cell,  he  sat  down  to  meditate,  applying  to 
himself  the  words  of  Mary,  the  mother  of  our  Lord, 
when  she  exclaimed :  ^fi/  sniil  doth  mn(]mj\i  the  Lord, 
and  1111/  spirit  hath  njnircil  in  G<id  iiii/  Surinuf.  For  He 
that  is  mii/hti/  has  i/mir  /;./■  im'  ,/,:iil  llninjs;  and  holij  is 
His  nami:  He  /»/>■  !=ii,ini  .•'iirn./t/i  irii'h  His  arm;  He 
hath  put  doini  the  nii;/hli/  from,  tlicir  seals,  and  exalted 
them  of  low  degree,  (Luke  i.  4G-55.)  The  following 
are  some  of  the  tlioughts  which  filled  Liithcr's  heart : 
He  thtU  is  7nii/hl>/  .  .  .  says  Mary.  Oh !  how 
great  boldness  on  the  part  of  a  young  girl !  With  a 
single  word  she  strikes  all  the  strong  with  languor, 
all  the  miglity  with  feebleness,  all  the  wise  with  folly, 
and  all  those  whose  name  is  glorious  on  the  earth,  with 
ignominy;  and  lays  at  the  feet  of  God  all  strength, 
all  power,  all  wisdom,  all  glory.  His  arm,  continues 
she;  and  she  thus  ;i]i|ii>als  to  that  power  by  which  He 
acts  of  himsili',  ami  witliciut  the  agency  of  His  crea- 
tures,— a  uiysti  ridiis  pdwer,  operating  in  secrecy  and 
in  silence,  until  His  purpose  is  accomplished.  Hence 
destruction  comes  before  any  one  is  aware  of  its 
approach ;  hence  elevation,  when  no  one  is  thinking 
of  it.  He  leaves  His  children  in  oppression  and  feeble- 
ness, so  that  each  of  them  says  to  himself,  'We  are  all 
lost ! '  Then,  however,  they  are  most  strong.  For  it  is 
where  the  power  of  raati  ends,  that  the  power  of  God 
begins.  Only  let  faith  wait  upon  Him.  .  .  .  And, 
on  the  other  liand,  God  permits  His  adversaries  to 
increase  their  power  and  grandeur.  He  withdraws 
from  them  the  aid  of  His  strength,  and  leaves  them  to 
be  inflated  with  their  own.  He  leaves  them  void  of 
His  eternal  wisdom,  and  lets  them  fill  themselves  with 
their  wisdom  of  a  day.  And  while  they  rise  up  in  the 
greatness  of  their  might,  the  arm  of  the  Lord  keeps 
back,  and  their  work  .  .  .  vanishes  like  a  soap 
bubble  when  it  bursts  in  the  air." 

It  was  on  the  10th  of  March,  at  the  moment  when 
his  name  was  filling  the  imperial  city  with  alarm,  that 
Luther  finished  this  exposition  of  the  "  Magnificat." 

He  was  not  allowed  to  remain  tranquil  iu  his  retreat. 
Spalatin,  in  conformity  to  the  orders  of  the  elector, 
sent  him  a  note  of  the  articles  of  which  it  was  proposed 
to  demand  a  retractation  from  him.  A  retractation 
after  the  refusal  at  Augsburg !  .  .  .  "  Fear  not," 
he  wic.lr  to  Spalatin,  "that  I  will  retract  a  single 
syllal.l.  .  siniT  their  only  argimient  is  to  insist  that  my 
w^riiin-,^  arc  n|,|i,ised  to  the  rites  of  what  they  call  the 
Cluu-eh.  If  tlic  Emperor  Charles  summon  me  merely 
for  the  purpose  of  retracting,  I  will  answer  him  that  I 
will  remain  here ;  and  it  will  be  just  the  same  thing  as 
if  I  had  been  to  AVorms  and  come  back  again.  But  if, 
on  the  contrary,  the  emperor  chooses  to  sinnmou  me  in 
order  that  I  may  be  put  to  death,  I  am  ready  to  repair 
at  his  call ;  for,  with  the  help  of  Christ,  I  will  not 
desert  His  Word  on  the  battle-field.  I  know  it :  these 
bloody  men  will  never  rest  till  they  have  deprived  me 
of  life.  Oh,  that  none  but  papists  would  become  guilty 
of  my  blood!" 


CHAPTER  V. 

Will  a  Sufc-conduct  be  giveu?— Safe-conduct— Will  Luther  go?— Holy 
Thursday  at  Rome — The  Popo  and  Luther. 

At  length  the  emperor  decided.  The  appearance  of 
Luther  before  the  diet  seemed  the  only  thing  fitted  to 
bring  this  affair,  which  occupied  the  whole  empire,  to 
some  kind  of  termination.  Charles  V.  resolved  to  cite 
him,  but  without  giving  him  a  safe-conduct.  Here 
Fredericlj  asain  lioL'an  to  act  as  his  protector.  Every- 
body saw  ilh-  daii'/.  r  which  tlircatcned  the  reformer. 
Luther's  lii.n.Is,  -ays  Coehlneus,  were  afraid  that  he 
would  be  delivered  up  to  the  pope,  or  that  the  emperor 
himself  would  put  him  to  death  as  unworthy,  on 
account  of  his  obstinate  heresy,  tiiiit  any  faith  should 
be  kept  with  him.  On  this  subject  there  was  a  long 
and  keen  debate  among  the  princes.  Struck,  at  last, 
with  the  general  agitation  then  prevailing  almost 
throughout  the  whole  population  of  Germany,  and 
afraid  that,  as  Luther  passed  along,  some  sudden  tu- 
mult or  dangerous  sedition  might  break  forth,  (doubt- 
less in  favour  of  the  reformer,)  the  princes  deemed  it 
wise  to  calm  men's  minds  on  this  account ;  and  not  only 
the  emperor,  but  also  the  Elector  of  Saxony,  Duke 
George,  and  the  Landgrave  of  Hesse,  through  whose 
states  he  had  to  pass,  each  gave  him  a  safe-conduct. 

On  the  6th  March,  1521,  Charles  V.  signed  the 
following  summons  addressed  to  Luther : — 

"  Charles,  by  the  gi-ace  of  God,  elected  Roman  Em- 
peror, always  Augustus,  &c.,  &c. 

"  Honourable,  dear,  and  pious !  We,  and  the  states 
of  the  holy  empire,  having  resolved  to  make  an  inquest 
touching  the  doctrine  and  the  books  which  you  have 
published  for  some  time  past,  have  given  you,  to  come 
here  and  return  to  a  place  of  safety,  our  safe-conduct, 
and  that  of  the  empire,  here  subjoined.  Our  sincere 
desire  is,  that  you  immediately  prepare  for  this  journey, 
in  order  that,  in  the  space  of  twenty-one  days,  men- 
tioned in  our  safe-conduct,  you  may  be  here  certainly, 
and  -without  fail.  Have  no  apprehension  of  eitlier 
injustice  or  violence.  We  will  firmly  enforce  our  safe- 
conduct  under- written ;  and  we  expect  that  you  will 
answer  to  our  call.  In  so  doing,  you  will  follow  oiu- 
serious  advice. 

"  Given  at  our  imperial  city  of  Worms,  the  sixth  day 
of  March,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord,  1521,  and  in  the 
second  year  of  our  reign.  Charles. 

"  By  order  of  my  Lord  the  Emperor,  with  his  own 
hand,  Albert,  Cardinal  of  Mentz,  Arch-chancellor. 
"Nicolas  Z\vtl." 

The  safe-conduct  enclosed  iu  this  letter  bore  the 
following  address: — "To  the  honourable,  our  dear  and 
pious  Doctor  Martin  Luther,  of  the  order  of  the  Augus- 
tines." 

It  began  thus : — 

"We,  Charles,  fifth  of  the  name,  by  the  grace  of 
God  elected  Roman  Emperor,  always  Augustus,  King 
of  Spain,  of  the  Two  Sicilies,  of  Jerusalem,  Hungarj', 
Dalmatia,  Croatia,  &c..  Arch-duke  of  Austria,  Duke 
of  Burgundy,  Count  of  Hapsburg,  Flanders,  the  Tyrol," 
&c.,  &c. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


Tlien  tlie  king  of  so  many  nations,  giving  to  wit  that 
he  had  summoned  before  him  an  Augustine  monk, 
named  Luther,  ordered  all  princes,  lords,  magistrates, 
and  others,  to  respect  the  safe-conduct  which  he  gave 
him,  under  pain  of  punishment  by  the  emperor  and 
the  empire. 

Thus  the  emperor  gave  the  title  of  "  dear,  honour- 
able, and  pious,"  to  a  man  at  whose  head  the  Church 
had  launched  her  excommunication.  It  had  been 
wished,  in  the  drawing  up  of  the  document,  to  remove 
all  distrust  from  the  mind  of  Luther  and  his  friends. 
Gaspard  Sturm  was  appointed  to  carry  this  message  to 
the  reformer,  and  accompany  him  to  "Worms.  The 
elector,  dreading  the  public  indignation,  wrote,  on  the 
12th  March,  to  the  magistrates  of  Wittemberg,  to  see 
to  the  safety  of  the  emperor's  officer,  and,  if  deemed 
necessary,  to  provide  him  with  a  guard.  The  herald 
set  out. 

Thus  the  designs  of  God  were  accomplished.  God 
was  pleased  to  set  upon  a  hill  that  light  which  He 
had  kindled  in  the  world ;  and  emperors,  kings,  and 
princes,  without  knowing  it,  were  forthwith  in  motion 
t(i  execute  Ilis  design.  It  is  easy  for  Him  to  exalt  the 
lowest  to  tlie  highest.  An  act  of  His  power  suffices  to 
raise  the  humble  child  of  Mansfeld  from  an  obscure 
hut  to  the  palace  where  kings  are  assembled.  In  re- 
gard to  Him,  there  is  nothing  small,  nothing  great. 
When  He  wills  it,  Charles  V.  and  Luther  meet  face 
to  face. 

But  will  Luther  obey  this  citation  ?  His  best  friends 
were  in  doubt.  The  elector,  on  the  25th  March,  wrote 
his  brother :  "  Doctor  Martin  is  summoned  hither,  but 
I  know  not  if  he  will  come.  I  cannot  augur  any  good 
of  it."  Three  weeks  later  (16th  April)  this  excellent 
prince,  seeing  the  danger  increase,  wrote  anew  to  Duke 
John  :  "  There  is  a  proclamation  against  Luther.  The 
cardinals  and  bishops  attack  him  with  much  severity. 
May  God  tiu-n  all  to  good !  Would  to  God  I  could 
procure  him  an  equitable  reception ! " 

While  these  things  were  passing  at  Woi-ms  and  Wit- 
temberg, the  papacy  was  reiterating  its  blows.  On  the 
28th  of  March,  the  Thursday  before  Easter,  Rome 
resounded  with  a  solemn  excommunication.  At  this 
season  it  is  usual  to  publish  the  dreadful  bull  in  Ccena 
Domini,  which  is  only  a  long  series  of  imprecations. 
On  that  day  the  avenues  to  the  church  in  which  the 
sovereign  pontiff  was  to  officiate  were  occupied,  at  an 
early  hour,  by  the  papal  guards,  and  by  a  crowd  of 
people  who  had  flocked  from  all  parts  of  Italy  to 
receive  the  benediction  of  the  holy  father.  The  square 
in  front  of  the  Basilisk  was  decorated  with  branches  of 
laurel  and  myrtle;  wax  tapers  were  burning  on  the 
balcony  of  the  church,  and  the  ostensorium  was  raised 
upon  it,  All  at  once  bells  make  the  air  re-echo  with 
solemn  sounds ;  the  pope,  clothed  in  his  pontifical  robes, 
and  carried  in  a  chair,  appears  on  the  balcony;  the 
people  kneel,  all  heads  are  uncovered,  the  colours  are 
lowered,  the  muskets  grounded,  and  a  solemn  silence 
reigns.  Some  moments  after,  the  pope  slowly  stretches 
out  his  hands,  raises  them  towards  heaven,  then  bends 
them  slowly  towards  the  ground,  making  the  sign  of 
the  cross.  This  movement  is  repeated  thrice,  and  the 
air  echoes  anew  with  the  ringing  of  bells,  which  inti- 
mate the  pope's  benediction  to  the  surrounding  country ; 


then  priests  advance  with  impetuosity,  holding  lighted 
torches,  which  they  reverse,  brandish,  and  throw  about 
with  violence,  to  represent  the  flames  of  hell ;  the  people 
are  moved  and  agitated ;  and  the  words  of  malediction 
are  heard  from  the  height  of  the  temple. 

When  Luther  was  informed  of  this  excommunication, 
he  published  the  tenor  of  it,  with  some  remarks,  writ- 
ten in  that  caustic  style  in  which  he  so  much  excelled. 
Although  this  publication  did  not  appear  till  after- 
wards, we  will  here  give  some  idea  of  it.  Let  us  hear 
the  high  priest  of  Christendom  on  the  balcony  of  his 
Basilisk,  and  the  monk  of  Wittemberg  answering  him 
from  the  bosom  of  Oermanv. 


CATHEDRAL    OF    WORMS 

There  is  sometlnng  chinctcn^tie  in  tlie  contrast  of 
the  two  voices 

The  Fupe  — "  Leo  Bishoj)  " 

Luther. — "  Bishop  ...  as  a  wolt  is  a  shepherd ; 
for  the  bishop  ought  to  exhort  according  to  the  doc- 
trine of  salvation,  not  belch  out  imprecations  and 
maledictions." 

The  Pope. — ".  .  .  Servant  of  all  the  servants 
of  God."     .     .     . 

Luther. — "  In  the  evening,  when  we  are  drunk ;  but 
in  the  morning  we  call  ourselves  Leo,  lord  of  all  the 
lords." 

The  Pope. — "  The  Roman  bishops,  our  predecessors, 
have  been  wont,  on  this  festival,  to  employ  the  weapons 
of  righteousness."     .     .     . 

Lvther. — "  Which,  according  to  you,  are  excommu- 
nication and  anathema;  but  according  to  St.  Paul, 
patience,  meekness,  and  charity."     (2  Cor.  vi.  7.) 


THE  POPE  AND  LUTHER. 


193 


The  I'ope. — "  According  to  tlie  duty  of  the  apostolic 
ollice,  and  to  maintaiu  tho  purity  of  Christian  faith." 

Lnt/iei: — "  In  otlier  words,  tlie  temporal  possessions 
of  llic  poiifi." 

T lie  Pope. — "And  its  unity,  which  consists  in  the 
union  of  the  incmbere  with  Christ  their  head,  .  .  . 
and  with  His  vicar."     .     .     . 

Luther. — "For  Christ  is  not  sufficient;  one  more 
tlian  He  is  necessary." 

The  I'npe. — "  To  guard  the  holy  communion  of  the 
faithful,  we  follow  (ho  uMciont  custom,  and  excommuni- 
cato and  anathenuUizo,  on  tlio  part  of  God  Almighty, 
tlio  Fathor." 

Luther. — "  Of  wliom  it  is  said,  God  sent  not  His  Son 
into  the  world  to  condemn  'he  tvorld"  (John  iii.  17.) 

The  Pope — ".  .  .  And  the  Son  and  the  Holy 
Spirit,  and  according  to  the  power  of  the  apostles 
Peter  and  Paul,     .     .     .     and  our  own."     .     .     . 

lAither. — "  And  myself !  says  the  ravenous  wolf,  as 
if  the  power  of  Goa'wcic  tdo  frrl)lo  without  Iiiui." 

The  Pope.— '■■\\\'rm~<-M  luivti.'s.— tho(;arasi,Mhe 
Patarini,  the  Paupnvv  ..f  Lymis,  tho  Anioldists,  the 
Sporonists,  the  Pajsagiuu^,  the  Wicklitiites,  the  Hussites, 
tlio  Fratricelli." 

J.iitlii-r. — "For  they  vrished  to  possess  the  Holy 
S<  lipturos,  and  insisted  that  the  pope  should  be  sober, 
and  proaoh  the  Word  of  God." 

The  /'ly/c. — ••  And  Martin  Luther  recently  condemned 
by  us  for  a  similar  liorosy,  as  well  as  all  his  adherents, 
aud  all,  whosoever  they  be,  that  shew  liim  any  favour." 

J.iilher. — "I  thank  thee,  most  gracious  pontiff,  for 
condonuiing  me  in  common  with  all  these  Christians. 
I  count  it  an  honour  to  have  my  name  proclaimed  at 
Rome,  during  the  feast,  in  so  glorious  a  manner,  and 
carried  over  the  world  with  the  names  of  all  those 
humble  confessors  of  Jesus  Christ." 

The  Pope. — "Likewise,  we  exconnnuuicate  and  curse 
all  pirates  and  corsairs."     .     .     . 

Luther. — "Who,  then,  is  the  greatest  of  pirates  and 
corsairs,  if  it  be  not  he  who  robs  souls,  chains  them, 
aud  puts  them  to  death?" 

The  Pope. — "  Particularly  those  who  sail  upon  our 
sea." 

I^uther. — "  Our  sea !  .  .  .  Saint  Peter,  our  pre- 
do.-ossor,  said :  Silrn-  ami  ,,old  harr  T  ,mnr,  (Acts  iii.  6.) 
Jo,-us  Christ  said  :  V/,,  !,;,„,.<  .,r  t/,,  ^•,»///,^■  e.cerci:<e  lord- 
.vA/y,  orer  Ihrm;  Init  ,1  ,/,„//  imi  h,  ,.,  with  you,  (Luke 
xxii.  2.).)  But  if  a  waggon  hjadod  with  hay  must,  on 
mooting  with  a  drunken  man,  give  way  to  him,  a  for- 
tiori nnist  St.  Peter  and  Jesus  Christ  himself  give  way 
to  the  pope !" 

The  Pope. — "Likewise,  we  excommunicate  and  curse 
all  who  falsify  our  bulls,  and  our  apostolic  letters."     .     . 

Luther. — "  But  the  letters  of  God,  the  Scriptures  of 
God,  all  the  world  may  condemn  and  burn." 

The  Pope. — "  Likewise,  we  excommunicate  and  curse 
all  who  detain  provisions  which  are  on  the  way  to 
Kome."     .     .     . 

Luther. — "  He  barks  and  bites  like  a  dog  threatened 
to  be  deprived  of  his  bone." 

The  Pope. — "Likewise,  we  condemn  and  curse  all 
who  keep  back  judicial  rights,  fruits,  tithes,  revenues, 
appertaining  to  the  clergy." 

1  This  name  is  inaccurate,— read  Gaiari  or  Catlmri. 


Luther. — "  For  Jesus  Christ  has  said :  Whosoever  ivill 
sue  thee  at  the  law,  and  take  aivai/  thi/  coat,  let  him  have 
thy  cloak  also,  (Matt.  v.  40;)  and  this  is  our  commentary 
upon  the  piissage." 

The  Pope. — "Whatever  lie  thoir  station,  dignity, 
order,  power,  or  rank, — bo  they  even  bishops  or 
kings."     .     .     . 

Luther. — "  Fur  llivre  trill  arise  false  teachers  among 
you,  who  will  dr.</,;.<r  ilnmiiiinii,  and  sjjeak  evil  of  dignities, 
saith  the  Scriiiluio,"  (.liido  S.) 

The  Pope. — "Likewise  wo  condemn  and  curse  all 
those  who  in  any  kind  of  way  attack  the  city  of  Kome, 
the  kingdom  of  Sicily,  the  islands  of  Sardinia  and  Cor- 
sica, the  patrimony  of  St.  Peter  in  Tuscany,  the  duchy 
of  Spoleto,  the  margi-avate  of  Ancona,  the  Campagiia, 
the  cities  of  Ferrara  and  Benevento,  or  any  other  city 
or  country  appertaining  to  the  Church  of  Itome." 

Luther. — "  O  Peter,  poor  fisherman !  where  did  you 
get  Rome  and  all  those  kingdoms '!  I  salute  you,  Peter, 
king  of  Sicily !      .      .      .      and  li.li.rni.ni  at  li.llisaida '" 

The  Pope.— '' Wo  i!X< nnunir,-,!, ■;.,,.!  ,•„,■.,.  allolian- 

ceUors,  councillors,  pai-lianniil,-.  |ir.iiiiia(<.iv.,  i:.  i\  iinurs, 
officials,  bishops,  and  otliors,  who  uppuso  our  loiters  of 
exhortation,  invitation,  prohibition,  mediation,  execu- 
tion," &c. 

Luther. — "For  the  holy  see  seeks  only  to  live  in 
idleness,  magnificence,  and  debauchery,  to  command, 
storm,  deceive,  lie,  iusidt,  and  commit  all  sorts  of 
wickedness  in  peace  and  safety.     .     .     . 

"  O  Lord,  arise ! — it  is  not  as  the  papists  pretend. 
Thou  hast  not  forsaken  ns,  nor  is  thy  favour  turned 
away  from  us." 

So  spake  Leo  X.  at  Rome,  and  Luther  at  Wittemberg. 

The  pontiff  having  finished  his  anathemas,  the  parch- 
ment on  which  they  were  written  was  torn  in  pieces, 
and  the  fragments  thrown  to  the  people.  Immediately 
there  was  a  gi-eat  rush  among  the  crowd,  all  pressing 
forward,  and  striving  to  get  hold  of  a  morsel  of  the 
terrible  bull. 

Such  were  the  holy  relics  which  the  papacy  offered 
to  her  faithful  on  the  eve  of  the  great  day  of  grace  of 
expiation.  The  multitude  soon  dispersed,  and  the 
vicinity  of  the  Basilisk  resumed  its  wonted  stillness. 
Let  us  retm-u  to  Wittemberg. 


CHAPTER  VL 

Lutlier's  Courage— Bugenhagen  at  Wittemberg— PcMecutions  in  Ponierania 
— Melancthon  wishes  to  set  out  with  Luther — Amsdorlf — Schurff— 
Suaven— Hutteii  to  Cliarles  V. 

It  was  the  24th  of  March.  The  imperial  herald,  Gas- 
pard  Sturm,  having  at  length  passed  the  gates  of  the 
town  where  Luther  was,  presented  himself  before  the 
doctor,  aud  put  the  summons  of  Charles  V.  into  his 
hands.  A  grave  and  solemn  moment  for  the  reformer ! 
All  his  friends  were  in  consternation.  No  prince,  not 
even  excepting  Frederick  the  Wise,  had  as  yet  declared 
in  his  favour.  Knights,  it  is  true,  uttered  menaces ; 
but  the  mighty  Charles  despised  them.  Still  Luther 
was  not  troubled.     "  The  papists,"  said  he,  on  seeing 


1.04 


HISTORY  OF  THE  EEFORMATION. 


the  anguisli  of  his  friends,  "  have  no  wish  for  my  ar- 
rival at  Worms,  they  only  wish  my  condemnation  and 
death.  No  matter,  pray  not  for  me,  but  for  the  Word 
of  God.  Before  my  blood  is  cold,  thousands  through- 
out the  world  will  be  called  to  answer  for  having  shed 
it.  The  most  lioli/  adversary  of  Christ,  the  father,  mas- 
ter, and  generalissimo  of  homicides,  insists  on  having 
my  life.  Amen  !  Let  the  will  of  the  Lord  be  done. 
Christ  will  give  me  His  Spirit  to  vanquish  these  minis- 
ters of  error.  I  despise  them  during  my  life,  and  will 
triumph  over  them  by  my  death.  They  are  doing  all 
they  can  at  Womis  to  compel  me  to  retract.  Here, 
then,  will  be  my  retractation :  I  once  said,  that  the 
pope  was  tlie  vicar  of  Christ ;  now,  I  say  that  he  is  the 
enemy  of  the  Lord,  and  the  apostle  of  the  devil."  And 
when  he  learned  that  all  the  puljjits  of  the  Franciscans 
were  resounding  with  imprecations  and  maledictions 
a.i^iiinst  him,  he  exclaimed :  "  Oh  !  what  wondrous  joy 
it  gives  me  ! "  He  knew  that  he  had  done  the  will  of 
God,  and  that  God  was  with  him  ;  why,  then,  should  he 
not  set  out  boldly?  This  purity  of  intention,  this 
liberty  of  conscience,  is  a  hidden  power  of  incalculable 
might,  which  never  fails  the  servant  of  God,  and  which 
makes  him  more  invincible  than  helmets  and  armed 
hosts  could  make  him. 

At  this  time  arrived  at  Wittemberg  a  man  who,  like 
Melauctlion,  was  destined  to  be  Luther's  friend  through 
life,  and  to  console  him  at  the  moment  of  his  departure. 
It  was  a  priest  of  th.irty-six:  years  of  age,  named 
Bugenhagen,  who  had  fled  from  the  severities  witli 
which  the  Bishop  of  Camin,  and  Prince  Bogislas  of 
Pomerania,  persecuted  the  friends  of  the  Gospel  of  all 
classes — clergj',  citizens,  and  literati.  Of  a  senatorial 
family  at  Wollin  in  Pomerania, — from  which  he  is 
commonly  called  "Pomeranus,"  —  Bugenhagen,  at 
twenty  years  of  age,  began  to  teach  at  Treptow. 
Youth  flocked  to  hear  him,  while  nobles  and  learned 
men  vied  with  each  other  for  his  society.  He  was  a 
diligent  student  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  prayed  to 
God  to  instruct  him.  One  day,  towards  the  end  of 
December,  l.")2(),  when  he  was  supping  with  several 
friends,  Luther's  treatise  on  the  "  Captivity  of  Baby- 
lon "  was  put  into  his  hands.  After  turning  it  over, 
lie  exclaimed :  "  Many  heretics  have  infested  the  Church 
since  dur  Saviour  died,  but  never  was  there  one  more 
pestilential  than  the  author  of  this  work."  Having 
taken  tlie  boolv  home  with  him,  and  read  it  over  and 
over,  his  views  entirely  changed ;  new  truths  presented 
themselves  to  his  mind,  and  returning  some  days  after- 
wards to  his  companions,  he  said  to  them  :  "  The  whole 
world  is  fallen  into  Cimmerian  darkness.  This  man, 
and  none  but  he,  sees  the  trutli."  "  Some  priests,  a 
deacon,  even  the  abbot  himself,  received  the  pure  doc- 
trine of  salvation,  and  preaching  it  with  power,  soon," 
says  a  historian,  "  turned  away  tlieir  hearers  from 
human  superstitions  to  the  sole  efficacious  merit  of 
Jesus  Christ."  Then  pr^i-secutiiui  burst  fortli.  Seve- 
ral were  already  immuiT'l  in  ilmiLiriiiis.  \\  lim  Liiiieu- 
hagen  escaped  from  iii-;  riicini,  -.  .ml  :iiri\  rd  at  AVit- 
temberg.  "He  suffers  for  the  line  uf  th-  Ciuspel," 
immediately  wrote  Melauctlion  to  the  elector's  chap- 
lain ;  "  wliere  could  he  fly,  if  not  to  our  asylum,  to  the 
protection  of  our  prince  ?" 

But  none  received  Bugenhagen  with  so  much  delight 


as  Luther.  It  was  arranged  between  them  that,  imme- 
diately after  the  reformer's  departure,  Bugenhagen 
should  begin  to  expound  the  Psalms.  Thus,  Divine 
Providence  brought  this  powerfid  mind  to  ai*in  supply- 
ing the  place  of  him  whom  Wittemberg  was  going  to 
lose.  Placed  a  year  after  at  the  head  of  the  church  of 
this  town,  Bugenhagen  presided  over  it  for  thirty-sis 
years.  Luther  distinguished  him  by  the  name  of  2'/ie 
"Pastor. 

Luther  behoved  to  depart.  His  alarmed  friends 
thought,  that  unless  God  miraculously  interposed,  he 
was  going  to  death.  Melancthon,  who  had  left  his 
native  country,  had  become  attached  to  Luther  with 
all  the  affection  of  his  soul.  "Luther,"  said  he,  "is  to 
me  in  place  of  all  my  friends-.  I  fe.-l  him  to  be  greater 
and  more  admirable  than  I  can  express.  You  know 
how  Alcibiades  admired  his  Snciai.s ;'  but  I  admire 
Luther  in  a  higher  sense,  for  \u-  U  a  Christian."'  Then 
he  added  the  simple,  but  beautiful  exjirL'-sion  :  "Every 
time  1  contemplate  him,  I  find  him  even  greater  than 
himself."  Melancthon  wished  to  follow  Luther  in  his 
dangers.  But  their  common  friends,  and,  doubtless, 
the  doctor  himself,  were  against  it.  Must  not  Philip 
supply  the  place  of  his  friend?  and,  should  tliat  friend 
never  return,  who  would  direct  the  cause  of  the  Refor- 
mation ?  "Ah!  would  to  God,"  said  Melancthon, 
resigned,  but  grieved, — "would  to  God  I  had  been 
allowed  to  go  with  him." 

The  ardent  Amsdorff  immediately  declared  that  he 
would  accompany  the  doctor.  His  strong  soul  felt  a 
pleasure  in  exposmg  itself  to  danger.  His  high  bear- 
ing enabled  him  to  appear  fearless  before  an  assembly 
of  kings.  The  elector  had  invited  to  Wittemberg,  as 
professor  of  law,  Jerome  Schurff,  the  sou  of  a  pliysi- 
cian  of  St.  Gall,  a  celebrated  man,  of  great  meekness 
of  temper,  and  a  very  intimate  friend  of  Luther.  "  He 
has  not  yet  simimoned  up  courage,"  said  Luther,  "  to 
pronounce  sentence  of  death  on  a  single  malefactor." 
Yet  this  timid  individual  volunteered  to  act  as  the  doc- 
tor's coiuisel  on  this  dangerous  journey.  A  young 
Danish  student,  named  Peter  Suavon.  wlin  boarded 
with  Melancthon,  and  afterwards  di  •tiii'jiii-hcil  liinisi'If 
by  his  labours  in  Pomerania  and  I  ).iiiirii  k.  al^o  de- 
clared that  he  would  accompany  lii<  niaslir.  Tlie 
youth  in  schools  were  entitled  to  have  their  represen- 
tative beside  the  champion  of  truth. 

Germany  was  moved  at  the  thought  of  the  dangers 
which  threatened  the  representative  of  her  people,  and 
foiuid  a  voice  well  fitted  to  express  her  fears.  Ulrich 
von  Hiitten  shuddered  at  the  thought  of  the  blow 
about  to  be  struck  at  his  country;  and,  on  the  1st  of 
April,  wrote  directly  to  Charles  V.  as  follows :  "  Most 
excellent  emperor,  you  are  on  the  point  of  destroying 
us,  and  yourself  with  us.  What  is  intended  in  this 
affair  of  Luther,  but  just  to  destroy  our  liberty,  and 
abridge  your  power?  There  is  not  throughout  the 
whole  breadth  of  the  empire  a  good  man  who  does  not 
feel  the  liveliest  interest  in  this  business.  The  priests 
alone  are  in  arms  against  Luther,  because  he  is  opposed 
to  their  excessive  power,  their  shameful  luxury,  their' 
depraved  lives,  and  has  pleaded  for  the  doctrine  of 
Christ,  his  country's  freedom,  and  purity  of  manners. 

1  "  Alcibiades  was  persuaae4  tliat  tlie  demon  of  Soevates  was  assistance 
which  tlie  gods  sent  to  instruct  and  save."— PJiidirc/i's  Life  of  Alcibiades. 


LUTHER'S  JOURNEY  TO  WORMS. 


195 


"O  emperor!  dismiss  from  your  prosenoe  those  ora- 
toi-s  of  Home,  those  bishops  ;uid  fiirdiiials  wlio  would 
prevent  everything  like  reform.  Did  you  not  observe 
the  sadness  of  the  people  on  seeing  you,  on  your  an-ivul, 
Rl)proach  the  people  surrounded  by  those  wearers  of 
red  hats,  by  a  herd  of  priests,  and  not  a  band  of  valiant 
\\'arriors'? 

"Do  not  give  up  your  sovereign  majesty  to  those 
who  would  trample  it  under  their  feet !  Have  pity  on 
us !  Do  not  in  your  ruin  drag  the  whole  nation  along 
with  yo>i !  Place  us  amid  the  greatest  perils,  under  the 
swords  of  tlie  enemy  and  the  canon's  mouth ;  let  all 
nations  consi)ire  against  us ;  let  all  armies  assail  us,  so 
that  we  may  be  able  openly  to  manifest  our  valour,  and 
not  be  thus  vanquished  and  enslaved  in  the  dark,  like 
women,  without  arms  and  without  a  struggle.  .  .  . 
Ah !  our  hope  was  that  you  would  deliver  us  from  the 
yoke  of  the  Romans,  and  overthrow  the  pontifical 
tyranny.  God  grant  that  the  futiu-c  may  turn  out 
better  than  the  commencement. 

"All  Germany  kneels  before  you;  she  supplicates 
you  with  tears,  implores  your  aid,  your  pity,  your  faith, 
and,  by  the  holy  memory  of  those  Germans,  who, 
when  the  whole  world  was  subjugated  to  Rome,  refused 
to  bend  their  head  before  that  proud  city,  conjures  you 
to  save  her,  restore  her  to  herself,  deliver  her  from 
slavery,  and  avenge  her  of  her  tyrants!"     .     .     . 

So  spoke  Germany  to  Charles  V  through  the  instru- 
mentality of  the  knight.  The  emperor  paid  uo  atten- 
tion to  the  letter ;  perhaps  threw  it  disdainfully  from 
him  to  one  of  his  secretaries.  He  -s^-as  a  Fleming,  and 
not  a  German.  Personal  aggrandisement — not  the 
liberty  and  glory  of  the  empire — was  the  object  of  all 
his  desires. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Deim-tiire  f-jr  Ihe  Diet  of  WMrni<;— Luth'  r's  Adieu— His  Condemnation 
ruWislieil— Cavalcado  ii.  n  rifint  M,,liii-  of  Jonas  and  Lutlier— 
I.utlier  in  liis   old  C  i;\  I  I'     u  lies  at  Erfui-t— Incident— 

F;iitli  ami  Worlis— Chili  r     i.        I  ulliei's  Courage— Lutliei- to 

Spalatin  — llaltflt  Fr.iuk;  :       I  .;  \\    i  i!is— Plan  of  tlie  Imperialibts 

—  Lutlier's  Firmness. 

The  2nd  of  April  had  arrived,  and  Luther  behoved  to 
take  leave  of  his  friends.  After  writing  a  note  to 
Lange,  to  intimate  that  he  would  spend  the  following 
Tlun-sday  or  Friday  at  Erfurt,  he  bade  adieu  to  his 
colleagues.  Turning  to  Melancthon,  he  said  to  him,  in 
a  tone  which  betrayed  emotion  :  "  If  I  do  not  return, 
and  my  enemies  put  me  to  death,  O  my  brother,  cease 
not  to  teach,  and  remain  firm  in  the  truth.  Labour  iu 
my  stead,  since  I  shall  not  be  able  to  labour  auy  longer 
for  myself.  If  you  live,  it  matters  little  though  I 
perish."  Then,  committing  himself  to  the  hand  of  Him 
who  is  faithful  and  true,  Luther  took  his  seat,  aud 
quitted  Wittemberg.  The  town  council  had  provided 
him  with  a  modest  carriage  with  a  cloth  covering, 
which  might  be  put  on  or  off  at  pleasure.  The  im- 
])crial  herald,  clad  in  his  insignia,  and  wearing  the 
imperial  eagle,  was  on  horseback  in  front,  followed  by 
his  servant.    Next  followed  Luther,  Schurff,  AmsdoriF, 


and  Suaven,  in  their  carriage.  The  friends  of  the  Gos- 
pel, the  citizens  of  Wittemberg,  iu  deep  emotion,  were 
invoking  God,  and  shedding  tears.  Such  was  Luther's 
dejiarture. 

He  soon  observed  that  the  hearts  of  those  whom  he 
met  were  filled  witli  gloomy  forebodings.  At  Leipsic 
no  honour  was  ])aid  to  him.  Ho  oidy  received  the 
usutil  ])resent  of  wine.  At  Naumbiu-g  he  met  a  priest, 
probably  J.  Langer,  a  man  of  stern  zeal,  who  carefully 
l)reserved  in  his  study  the  portrait  of  the  famous 
Jerome  Savonarola  of  Ferrara,  who  was  burnt  at  Flo- 
rence in  1498,  by  order  of  Pope  Alexander  VI.,  as  a 
martyr  to  liberty  and  morality,  as  well  as  a  confessor 
of  evangelical  truth.  Having  taken  the  portrait  of  the 
Italian  martyr,  the  priest  came  up  to  Luther,  and  held 
out  the  portrait  to  him  without  sjjcaking.  Luther 
undei-stood  what  the  dumb  figure  intimated ;  but  his 
intrepid  soul  remained  firm.  "It  is  Satan,"  said  he, 
"who,  by  these  terrors,  would  fain  prevent  a  confession 
of  the  truth  from  being  made  in  the  assembly  of  the 
princes,  because  he  foresees  the  blow  which  this  will 
give  to  his  kiugdom."  "Adhere  firmly  to  the  truth 
which  thou  ha.st  per'ceived,"  said  then  the  priest  to  him 
gi-avfly,  "and  thy  God  will  also  adliere  finuly  to  thee." 

Having  .^i)cMit  the  night  at  Naumbiu-g,  where  the 
burgomaster  had  hospitably  entertained  him,  Luther 
arrived  next  evening  at  Weimar.  He  was  scarcely 
a  moment  there  wlien  he  heard  loud  cries  in  all 
directions.  They  were  publishing  his  condi'iunation. 
" Look !"  said  the  herald  to  hiui.  Ilr  looked,  and  his 
astonished  eyes  beheld  imperial  nn --■  )iu' r^  tiMversing 
the  town,  and  posting  up  the  iiii|).  ri.il  cili.'t,  which 
ordered  his  writings  to  be  laid  liefore  the  magistrates. 
Luther  had  no  iloiil)t  that  tliese  liar.-^h  measures  were 
exhibited  beforehand,  to  deter  him  from  coming,  that 
he  might  afterwards  be  condemned  for  having  refused 
to  appear,  "Well,  doctor,  will  you  go  on?"  said 
the  imperial  herald  to  him  in  alarm. — "Yes,"  replied 
Luther,  "  though  put  under  interdict  in  every  town,  I 
will  go  on  :  I  confide  in  the  emperors  safe-conduct." 

At  Weimar  Luther  had  an  audience  of  the  elector's 
brother,  Duke  John,  who  was  then  residing  there.  The 
prince  invited  him  to  preach.  He  consented;  aud  from 
his  heart,  now  uuder  deep  emotion,  came  forth  the 
words  of  life.  John  Vo'it,  the  friend  of  Frederick 
Myconius,  a  Franciscan  monk,  heard  him  ;  aud  being 
converted  to  evangelical  doctrine,  quitted  the  convent 
two  years  after.  At  a  later  period  he  became  pro- 
fessor of  theology  at  Wittemberg.  The  duke  ga\e 
Luther  the  mouey  necessary  for  his  journey. 

From  Weimar  the  reformer  proceeded  to  Erfurt.  It 
was  the  town  of  his  youth  ;  and  he  hoped  to  see  his 
friend  Lange,  provided,  as  he  had  written  him,  he 
could  enter  tlie  town  without  danger.  He  was  still 
three  or  four  leagues  off,  near  the  village  of  Nora,  when 
he  saw  a  troop  of  horsemen  appear  in  the  distance. 
Were  they  friends,  or  were  they  enemies'?  Shortly 
Crotus,  the  rector  of  the  university,  Eobanus  Hesse, 
Melancthon's  friend,  whom  Luther  called  the  king  of 
poets,  Euricius  Cordus,  John  Draco,  and  others,  to  the 
number  of  forty,  members  of  the  senate,  the  university, 
and  the  municipality,  all  on  horseback,  saluted  him 
with  acclamation.  A  multitude  of  the  inhabitants  of 
Erfurt  covered  the  road,  and  gave  loud  expression  to 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


their  joy.     All  were  eager  to  see  the  mighty  man  who 
hatl  voutiired  to  declare  war  against  the  pope. 

A  young  man  of  twenty-eight,  named  Justus  Jonas, 
had  got  the  start  of  the  party.  Jonas,  after  studying 
law  at  Erfurt,  had  been  appointed  rector  of  the  uni- 
versity in  1519.  Illumined  by  the  evangelical  light, 
which  then  radiated  iu  all  directions,  he  felt  desirous  to 
become  a  theologian.  "  I  believe,"  wrote  Erasmus  to 
him,  "  that  God  has  elected  you  as  an  instrument  to 
spread  the  glory  of  His  Son  Jesus."  All  Jonas's 
thoughts  were  turned  to  Wittemberg  and  Luther. 
Some  years  before,  when  only  a  student  of  law,  being 
of  an  active  enterprising  spirit,  he  had  set  out  on  foot, 
accompanied  by  some  friends ;  and  in  order  to  reach 
Erasmus,  then  at  Brussels,  had  traversed  forests  in- 
vested by  robbers,  and  towns  ravaged  by  the  plague. 
AVill  he  not  now  confront  otlier  dangers  in  order  to 
accompany  the  reformer  to  Worms'?  He  earnestly 
begged  the  favour,  and  Luther  consented.  Thus  met 
these  two  doctors,  who  were  to  labour  through  life  in 
the  renovation  of  the  Church.  Divine  Providence 
gathered  around  Luther  men  destined  to  be  the  light 
of  Germany:  the  Melancthous,  the  Amsdorffs,  the 
Bugenhagens,  the  Jonases.  On  his  return  from 
Worms,  Jonas  was  appointed  provost  of  tlie  Church 
of  Wittemberg,  and  doctor  in  theology.  "Jonas,"  said 
Luther,  "  is  a  man  whose  life  would  deserve  to  be  pur- 
chased at  a  large  lariee,  in  order  to  detain  him  on  the 
earth."  No  preacher  ever  surpassed  him  in  the  gift  of 
ca]>livating  his  hearers.  "Pomeranus  is  an  expositor," 
said  jNlelancthon,  "  and  I  am  a  dialectitiaii, — Jonas  is 
an  orator.  The  words  flow  from  his  lips  with  siu-- 
passiug  gi-ace;  and  his  eloquence  is  overpowering. 
But  Luther  is  beyond  us  all."  It  seems  that  nearly 
about  the  same  time  a  comiiauion  nf  Luther's  child- 
hood, one  of  his  brothers,  joiiic.l  ih.^  ,-,■,, it. 

The  deputation  turned  thiir  .-^lirds,  and  horsemen 
and  footmen  sm-rounding  Luther's  carriage,  entered  the 
town  of  Erfurt.  At  the  gate,  in  the  squai-es  and 
streets,  where  the  poor  monk  had  so  often  begged  his 
bread,  the  crowd  of  spectators  was  immense.  Luther 
dismounted  at  the  Augustine  convent,  where  the  Gos- 
pel had  consoled  his  heart.  Lange  received  him  with 
joy;  Usingen,  and  some  of  the  more  aged  fathers, 
shewed  gi-eat  coolness.  There  was  a  general  desire  to 
hear  him  preach ;  and  though  he  was  interdicted  from 
doing  it,  the  herald  himself  could  not  resist  the  desire, 
and  consented. 

Sunday  after  Easter  the  Augustine  church  at  Erfm-t 
was  crowded.  That  friar  who  formerly  opened  the 
doors  and  swept  the  church,  mounted  the  pulpit,  and 
having  opened  the  Bible,  read  these  words :  Peace  he 
with  you.  And  wlicti  lie  had  so  said,  He  shewed  them  His 
hands  ami  His  side,  (John  xx.  19,  20.)  "All  the 
jiliilosopliers,  doctors,  and  writei's,"  said  he,  "have 
e.xirtud  themselves  to  shew  how  man  may  obtain  eter- 
nal life,  and  have  not  succeeded.  I  will  now  tell  you." 
This  has,  in  all  ages,  been  the  great  question ;  ac- 
cordingly, Luther's  hearers  redoubled  their  attention. 

"  Tliere  are  two  kinds  of  works,"  continued  the 
reformer ;  "  works  foreign  to  ourselves, — these  are 
good  works ;  and  our  own  works, — these  are  of  little 
value.  One  builds  a  church  ;  another  goes  on  a  pil- 
grimage to  St.  James's  or  St.  Peter's;  a  third  fasts, 


prays,  takes  the  cowl,  walks  barefoot ;  a  fourth  does 
something  else.  All  these  works  are  nothing,  and  will 
perish ;  for  our  own  works  have  no  efficacy  in  them. 
But  I  am  now  going  to  tell  you  what  is  the  genuine  j 
work.  God  raised  a  man  again  from  the  dead,  even 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  that  He  might  crush  death, 
destroy  sin,  and  shut  the  gates  of  hell.  Such  is  the 
work  of  salvation.  The  devil  thought  that  he  had  the 
Lord  in  his  power  when  he  saw  Him  between  the  two 
thieves,  suffering  the  most  ignominious  martyrdom, 
accursed  of  God  and  men.  .  .  .  But  the  Divinity 
displayed  its  power,  and  annihilated  sin,  death,  and 
hell.     .     .     . 

"  Christ  has  vanquished, — this  is  the  grand  news, — • 
and  we  are  saved  by  His  work,  not  by  our  own.  The 
pope  gives  a  very  different  account.  But  I  maintain 
that  the  holy  mother  of  God  herself  was  saved  neither 
by  her  virginity  nor  maternity,  neither  by  her  purity 
nor  her  works ;  but  solely  by  means  of  faith,  and  by 
the  works  of  God."     .     .     . 

While  Luther  was  speaking,  a  sudden  noise  was 
heard, — one  of  the  galleries  gave  a  crack,  and  seemed 
as  if  it  were  going  to  give  way  under  the  pressure  of 
the  crowd.  Some  rushed  out,  and  others  sat  still, 
terror-struck.  The  orator  stopped  for  a  moment,  and 
then,  stretching  out  his  hand,  exclaimed,  with  a  loud 
voice:  "Fear  nothing!  there  is  no  danger;  the  devil 
is  seeking,  in  this  way,  to  prevent  me  from  proclaim- 
ing the  Gospel ;  but  he  shall  not  succeed."  At  these 
words,  those  who  were  running  out,  stopped  astonished 
and  rivetted  to  the  spot;  the  assembly  calmed,  and 
Luther,  without  troubling  himself  with  the  attempts  of 
the  devil,  continued :  "  You  will,  perhaps,  say  to  me,  j 
Y'ou  tell  us  a  great  deal  about  faith.  Tell  us,  also,  j 
how  we  can  obtain  it.  Y'es ;  well,  I  will  tell  you.  Oiu- 
Lord  Jesus  Christ  says :  Peace  be  with  you;  behold  mij 
hands, — in  other  words,  '  Behold,  O  man !  it  is  I — I 
alone — who  have  taken  away  thy  sin,  and  ransomed 
thee ;  and  now  thou  hast  peace,  saitli  the  Lord.' 

"  I  did  not  eat  the  fruit  of  the  tree,"  resumed  Luther ; 
"  neither  did  you  eat  it ;  but  we  received  the  sin  which 
Adam  has  transmitted  to  us,  and  are  guilty  of  it.  In 
like  manner,  I  did  not  suffer  on  tlie  cross,  nor  did  you 
suffer  on  it ;  but  Christ  suffered  for  us ;  we  are  justi- 
fied by  the  work  of  God,  and  imt  by  nui-  mvn.  . 
lam  (saith  the  Lord)  thy  riijlil:  ■'usm  ss  ,nid  t/i//  /■akinptinn. 
"Let  us  believe  the  Gu.-^pil,  Irt  u.s  lu'lieve  St.  Paul, 
and  not  the  letters  and  decretals  of  the  popes." 

Luther,  after  having  preached  faith  as  the  means  of 
the  sinner's  justification,  preaches  works  as  the  conse- 
quence and  evidence  of  salvation. 

"  vSince  God  has  saved  us,"  continues  he,  "  let  us  so 
order  our  works  that  he  may  take  pleasure  iu  them. 
Ai-t  thou  rich  ? — let  thy  wealth  be  useful  to  the  poor. 
Art  thou  poor  ? — let  thy  service  be  useful  to  the  rich. 
If  thy  toil  is  useful  only  to  thyself,  the  service  which 
thou  pretendest  to  render  to  God  is  mere  falsehood." 

Tliere  is  not  a  word  in  the  sermon  on  Luther  him- 
self ;  no  allusion  to  the  circumstances  in  which  he  is 
placed  ;  nothing  on  Worms,  on  Charles,  or  the  nuncios  ; 
he  preaches  Christ,  and  Christ  only.  At  this  moment, 
when  the  world  has  its  eyes  upon  him,  he  is  not  in  the 
least  occupied  with  himself ;  and  herein  is  the  mark  of 
a  genuine  servant  of  God. 


LUTHER'S  ILLNESS  AND  COURAGE. 


197 


Luther  set  out  from  Erfurt,  and  passed  through 
Gotha,  whore  he  again  preached.  Myconius  adds, 
tliat  at  the  moment  wlirn  the  ])eopln  were  coming  out 
from  the  sermon,  (In'  ilf\  il  ili'luclicil  from  llic  pciliment 
of  tlie  church  sonu'  -lonr^  «  hirh  liml  n.ii  liiiilin'il  for 
two  centuries.  Tlic  docinr  slr|ii  in  iIk^  coiiMiit  uf  the 
IJenedictines,  at  Koinhanlsbninn,  and  tlionce  pro- 
ceeded to  Eisenach,  where  ho  felt  indisposed.  Ams- 
dorff,  Jonas,  Schurff,  and  all  his  friends,  were  alarmed. 
He  was  bled;  and  the  greatest  possible  attention 
was  paid  him.  Even  the 
sc/iii/tfieiss  of  the  town, 
John  Oswald,  hastened 
to  him  with  a  cordial. 
Luther,  after  drinking  it, 
fell  asleep,  and  was  there- 
by so  far  recovered  that 
he  was  able  to  proceed 
on  the  following  day. 

Wherever  he  passed 
the  people  flocked  to  see 
him.  His  journey  was 
a  kind  of  triumphal  pro- 
cession. Deep  interest 
was  felt  in  beholding  the 
intrepid  man  who  was 
on  the  way  to  oifer  his 
head  to  the  emperor  ani' 
the  empire.  An  immense 
concourse  surrounded 
him.  "Ah  !"  said  some 
of  them  to  him,  "  there 
arc  so  many  cardinals 
and  so  many  bishops  at 
AVorms,  they  wll  burn 
you ;  they  will  reduce 
your  body  to  ashes,  as  was  done  with  that  of  John 
Huss."  But  nothing  terrified  the  monk.  "  Were  they 
to  make  a  fire,"  said  he,  "that  would  extend  from 
AVorms  to  Wiitemberg,  and  reach  even  to  the  sky,  I 
would  walk  across  it  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  ;  I  would 
appear  before  them  ;  I  would  walk  into  the  jaws  of  this 
Behemoth,  and  break  his  teeth,  and  confess  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ." 

One  day,  when  just  going  into  an  inn,  and  while  the 
crowd  were  as  usual  pressing  around  him,  an  officer 
came  up  to  him  and  said :  "  Are  you  the  man  who 
undertakes  to  reform  the  papacy?  How  will  you 
succeed?" — "Yes,"  replied  Luther,  "I  am  the  man.  I 
confide  in  Almighty  God,  whose  word  and  command  I 
have  before  me."  The  officer,  affected,  gave  him  a 
milder  look,  and  said:  "Dear  friend,  there  is  some- 
thing in  what  you  say.  I  am  the  sei'vant  of  Charles  ; 
but  your  Master  is  gi-eater  than  mine.  He  will  aid 
you  and  guard  you."  Such  was  the  impression  which 
Luther  produced.  Even  his  enemies  were  struck  at  the 
sight  of  the  multitudes  that  thronged  around  him, 
though  they  have  painted  the  journey  in  different 
colours.  At  length  the  doctor  arrived  at  Frankfort, 
on  Sunday,  14th  April. 

News  of  Luther's  advance  had  reached  AA^orms.  The 
friends  of  the  pope  had  thought  he  would  not  obey  the 
summons  of  the  emperor.  Albert,  cardinal-archbishop 
of  Mentz,  would  have  given  anything  to  stop  him  by 


the  way ;  and  new  schemes  were  set  on  foot  for  this 
purpose. 

Luther,  on  his  anival  at  Frankfort,  took  some  re- 
pose, and  then  announced  his  approach  to  Spalatin, 
who  was  at  AVorms  with  the  elector.  It  is  the  only 
letter  which  he  wrote  during  his  journey.  "I  am 
getting  on,"  says  he,  "though  Satan  has  striven  to 
stop  me  on  the  way  by  sickness.  From  Eisenach  to 
this  I  have  never  been  without  a  feeling  of  languor, 
and  am  still  completely  worn  out.    I  learn  that  Charles 


has  published  an  edict  to  frighten  me.  But  Clirist 
lives,  and  we  shall  enter  Worms  in  spite  of  all  the 
barriers  of  hell  and  all  the  powers  of  the  air.  There- 
fore make  ready  my  lodging." 

The  next  day  Luther  visited  the  learned  school  of 
William  Nesse,  a  celebrated  geogi'apher  of  that  time. 
"  Be  diligent,"  said  he  to  the  scholars,  "  in  the  reading 
of  the  Scriptures,  and  the  investigation  of  truth." 
Then,  placing  his  right  hand  on  the  head  of  one  of  the 
children,  and  his  left  on  another,  he  pronounced  a 
blessing  on  the  whole  school. 

While  Luther  blessed  the  young,  he  was  also  the 
hope  of  the  old.  Catherine  of  Holzhausen,  a  widow 
advanced  in  years,  and  serving  God,  went  to  him  and 
said :  "  My  father  and  mother  told  me  that  God  would 
raise  up  a  man  who  should  oppose  the  papal  vanities, 
and  save  the  Word  of  God.  I  hope  you  are  that  man, 
and  I  wish  you,  for  your  work,  the  gi-ace  and  the  Holy 
Spirit  of  God." 

These  were  by  no  means  the  sentiments  universally 
entertained  at  Frankfort.  John  Cochloeus,  dean  of  the 
church  of  Notre  Dame,  was  one  of  those  most  devoted 
to  the  Roman  Church.  On  seeing  Luther  pass  through 
Frankfort  on  his  way  to  Worms,  he  could  not  suppress 
his  fears.  He  thought  the  Church  was  in  want  of  de- 
voted defenders ;  and  scarcely  had  Luther  quitted  the 
town,  than Cochloeusset  out  inhis  track, ready, ashe  says, 
to  give  his  life  in  defence  of  the  honour  of  the  Church. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  KEFORMATION. 


There  was  great  alarm  in  the  camp  of  the  pope's 
friends.  The  heresiarch  was  at  hand, — every  day, 
every  hour  brought  him  nearer  \Yoruis.  If  he  entered, 
all  was  perliaps  lost.  The  Archbishop  Albert,  the 
confessor  Glapio,  and  all  the  politicians  about  the  em- 
peror, felt  uneasy.  How  can  the  arrival  of  this  monk 
be  prevented  ?  It  is  impossible  to  cany  liim  off,  for  he 
has  the  emperor's  safe-conduct.  Stratagem  aloue  can 
arrest  him.  These  intriguers  immediately  arranged  the 
following  plan.  The  emperor's  confessor  and  his  high 
chamberlain,  Paul  of  Armsdorff,  quit  Woi-ms  in  gi-eat 
haste,  and  proceed  about  ten  leagues  distant,  to  the 
castle  of  Ebcrnburg,  the  residence  of  Francis  de  Seck- 
ingen,  the  knight  who  had  offered  Luther  an  asylum. 
Eucer,  a  young  Dominican,  chaplain  to  the  Elector- 
Palatine,  and  who  had  been  gained  to  the  evangelical 
doctrine  at  the  Heidelberg  discussion,  had  then  taken 
refuge  in  "  this  hotel  of  the  just."  The  knight,  who 
had  no  great  knowledge  of  the  affairs  of  religion,  was 
easily  imposed  upon,  while  the  disposition  of  the  Pala- 
tine chaplain  favoured  the  designs  of  the  confessor.  In 
fact,  Bucer  was  inclined  to  pacific  measures.  Distin- 
guishing between  fundamental  and  secondary  points, 
he  thought  he  might  sacrifice  the  latter  to  imity  and 
jjeace. 

The  chamberlain  and  confessor  begin  their  attack. 
They  give  Seckingen  and  Bucer  to  understand  that  it 
is  all  over  with  Lvither  if  he  goes  to  Worms.  They 
assure  him  that  the  emperor  is  ready  to  seud  certain 
learned  men  to  Ebernburg,  there  to  confer  with  the 
doctor.  "  Under  your  charge,"  say  they  to  the  knight, 
"  the  two  parties  will  be  placed."  "  We  are  at  one 
with  Luther  on  all  essential  points,"  say  they  to  Bucer: 
"  only  some  secondary  points  remain  ;  and  as  to  these 
you  will  be  mediator."  The  knight  and  the  chaplain 
are  shaken.  The  confessor  and  chamberlain  continue. 
"  The  invitation  addressed  to  Luther  must  come  from 
yon,"  say  they  to  Seckingen;  "and  let  Bucer  be  the 
bearer  of  it."  Everything  was  aiTanged  according  to 
their  wish.  Let  Luther  only  be  credulous  enough  to 
come  to  Ebernburg ;  his  safe-conduct  will  soon  expire, 
and  then,  who  will  be  able  to  defend  him  ? 

Luther  had  arrived  at  Oppenheim.  His  safe-conduct 
was  available  only  for  three  days  longer.  He  sees  a 
troop  of  horsemen  approaching,  and  soon  recognises  at 
their  head  the  Bucer  with  whom  he  had  such  intimate 
conference  at  Heidelberg.  "  These  horsemen  belong 
to  Francis  of  Seckingen,"  said  Bucer  to  him,  after  the 
first  expressions  of  friendshij).  "  He  sends  me  to  you 
to  conduct  you  to  his  strong  castle.  The  emperor's 
confessor  is  desirous  of  a  conference  with  you.  His 
influence  over  Charles  is  unbounded :  everything  may 
be  arranged.  But  beware  of  Aleander!"  Jonas,  Anis- 
dorff,  and  Schm-ff,  knew  not  what  to  think ;  Bucer 
insisted ;  but  Luther  hesitated  not.  "  I  continue  my 
journey,"  was  his  answer  to  Bucer ;  '•  and  if  the  em- 
peror's confessor  has  anything  to  say  to  me,  he  will 
find  me  at  Worms.     I  go  where  I  am  called." 

Meanwhile  Spalatin  himself  began  to  be  troubled 
and  afraid.  Sm-rounded  at  Worms  by  the  enemies  of 
the  Eeformation,  he  heard  them  saying  that  no  respect 
should  be  paid  to  the  safe-conduct  of  a  heretic.  He 
became  alarmed  for  his  friend;  and  at  the  moment 
when  the  latter  was  approaching  the  town,  a 


presented  himself,  and  said  to  him,  on  the  part  of  the 
chaplain,  "  Don't  enter  AVorms ! "  This  from  his  best 
friend,  the  elector's  confidant,  Spalatin  himself  !  Lu- 
ther, unmoved,  turns  his  eye  on  the  messenger,  and 
replies  :  "  Go  and  tell  your  master,  that  were  there  as 
many  devils  in  Worms  as  there  are  tiles  upon  the  roofs, 
I  would  enter."  Never,  perhaps,  was  Luther  so  grand. 
The  envoy  returned  to  Worms  with  his  extraordinary 
message.  "I  was  then  intrepid,"  said  Luther  a  few 
days  before  his  death ;  "  I  feared  nothing.  God  can  give 
man  such  boldness ;  I  know  not  if  at  present  I  would 
have  as  much  liberty  and  joy." — "When  the  cause  is 
good,"  adds  his  disciple  Mathesius,  "  the  heart  expands, 
giving  courage  and  energy  to  evangelists  and  soldiers." 


CHAPTER  Vin. 

Eutiylnto  Worms— Climt  for  the  Dead— Council  Iield  by  Charles  V.— Caiiito 
and  tlie  Tempoi-izers — Concourse  around  Luther— Citation— Hutteu 
to  Luther — Proceeds  to  the  Diet — Saying  of  Freundsberg — Imposing 
Assembly— The  Chancellor's  Address— Luther's  Reply— His  Wisdom  — 
Saying  of  Charles  V. — Alarm — Triumph — Luther's  Firmness — Insults 
from  the  Spaniards— Council— Luther's  Trouble  and  Prayer— Might  of 
the  Reform,ation— Luther's  Oath  to  Scripture— The  Court  of  the  Diet- 
Luther's  Address— Three  kinds  of  Writings— He  demands  Proof  of  his 
Error — Solemn  Warnings — He  repeats  his  Address  in  Latiu— Here  I 
am  :  I  can't  do  otherwise— The  "  weakness  "  of  God— New  Attempt. 

At  length,  on  the  morning  of  the  16th  April,  Luther 
perceived  the  walls  of  the  ancient  city.  All  were 
looking  for  him,  and  there  was  only  one  thought  in 
Worms.  The  young  noblemen,  Bernard  of  Hirsch- 
feld  and  Albert  of  Lindenau,  with  six  cavaliers,  and 
other  gentlemen  in  the  suite  of  the  princes,  to  the 
ninnber  of  a  hundred — if  we  may  believe  Pallavieini — 
unable  to  restrain  their  impatience,  galloped  to  meet 
him,  and  surrounded  him,  in  order  to  escort  him  at  the 
moment  of  his  entry.  He  approached.  Before  him 
pranced  the  imperial  herald,  decked  in  all  the  insignia 
of  his  office.  Next  came  Luther  in  his  humble 
carriage.  Jonas  followed  on  horseback,  surrounded 
by  the  cavaliers.  A  large  crowd  was  waiting  in  front 
of  the  gates.  It  was  near  mid-day  when  he  passed 
those  walls  which  so  many  persons  had  foretold  him  he 
should  never  leave.  It  was  the  dinner  hour ;  but  the 
moment  when  the  sentinel  stationed  in  the  cathedral 
steeple  tolled  the  signal,  everybody  ran  into  the  street 
to  see  the  monk.     Thus  was  Luther  in  Worms. 

Two  thousand  persons  accompanied  him  through  the 
streets :  there  was  a  rush  to  meet  him.  The  crowd 
was  increasing  every  moment,  and  was  much  larger 
than  when  the  emperor  made  his  entry.  Suddenly, 
relates  a  historian,  a  man  clad  in  a  singular  dress,  and 
carrying  a  large  cross  before  him,  as  is  usual  at 
funerals,  breaks  off  from  the  crowd,  advances  towards 
Luther,  and  then,  in  a  loud  voice,  and  with  the  plain- 
tive cadence  which  is  used  in  saying  mass  for  the 
repose  of  the  souls  of  the  dead,  chants  the  following 
stanzas,  as  if  he  had  been  determined  that  the  very 
dead  should  hear  them : — 

Advenisti,  O  desidembilis  ! 
Quem  evpectabamus  in  tenebris  !  1 
1  Thou  hast  arrived— thou  whom  we  longed  and  waited  for  in  darkness. 


CAPITO  AND  THE  TEMPORIZERS. 


109 


Luther's  anival  is  celebrated  by  a  requiem.  ]f  the 
story  is  true,  it  was  the  court  fool  of  one  of  the  dukes 
of  Bavaria  who  gave  Lutiicr  one  of  those  warnings, 
remarkable  at  once  for  wisdom  and  irony,  of  whicii  so 
many  instances  are  furnished  by  these  individuals. 
But  the  clamour  of  the  multitude  soou  drowned  the 
De  Friij'iiiiflis  of  the  cross-bearer. 

The  train  could  scarcely  proceed  through  the  mov- 
ing mass.  At  length  tlie  imperial  herald  stopped  be- 
fore the  hotel  of  the  Knights  of  Rhodes.  Here  lodged 
two  of  the  elector's  councillors, — Frederick  of  Thiui  and 
I'hilip  of  Feilitsch,  as  well  as  the  marshal  of  the  em- 
pire, Ulrich  of  Pappenheim.  Luther  got  out  of  his 
carriage,  and,  on  alighting,  said :  "  The  Lord  will  be 
my  defence."  .  .  .  "I  entered  Worms,"  said  he 
afterwards,  "  in  a  covered  car  in  my  frock.  Everybody 
ran  into  the  street  to  see  Friar  Martin." 

The  news  of  his  arrival  filled  the  Elector  of  Saxony 
and  Aleander  with  alarm.  The  young  and  elegant 
Archbishop  ^V.lbert  who  held  a  mean  between  those 
two  parties,  was  an-ized  at  Luther's  boldness.  "  Had 
I  not  had  more  courage  than  he,"  said  Luther,  "it  is 
true  I  never  should  have  been  seen  in  AVorms." 

Charles  V.  immediately  assembled  his  council.  The 
e(jun(illors  in  the  emperor's  confidence  repaired  in 
haste  to  the  palace,  for  they,  too,  were  in  dismay. 
'■  Luther  is  arrived,"  said  Charles ;  "  what  must  be 
done  ?  " 

Modo,  bishop  of  Palermo  and  chancellor  of  Flanders, 
— if  we  are  to  receive  Luther's  own  statement, — replied : 
■•  AVe  have  long  consulted  on  this  subject.  Let  your 
imperial  majesty  speedily  get  rid  of  this  man.  Did  not 
Sigisniuud  cause  John  Huss  to  bcbm'nt?  There  is  uo 
obligation  either  to  give  or  observe  a  safe-conduct  to  a 
heretic."  "No,"  said  Charles;  "what  has  been  pro- 
mised must  be  performed."  There  was  nothing  for  it, 
tliereforc,  but  to  make  the  refonner  appear. 

While  the  councils  of  the  great  were  thus  agitated 
on  the  subject  of  Luther,  there  were  many  men  in 
Worms  who  rejoiced  that  they  were  able  at  length  to 
behold  this  illustrious  servant  of  God.  In  the  first 
rank  among  them  was  Capito,  chaplain  and  councillor 
to  the  Archbishop  of  Mentz.  This  remarkable  man, 
who,  a  short  time  before,  had  preached  the  Gospel  in 
Switzerland  with  great  freedom,'  thought  it  due  to  the 
l)lace  which  he  then  occupied  to  pursue  a  course  whicli 
exposed  him  to  a  charge  of  cowardice  from  the  Evan- 
gelists, and  of  dissimulation  from  the  Romans.  He 
had,  however,  preached  the  doctrine  of  faith  clearly  at 
Mentz  ;  and  on  his  departure,  had  succeeded  in  supply- 
ing his  place  by  a  young  preacher  full  of  zeal,  named 
Hedio.  In  this  town — the  ancient  see  of  the  primate  of 
the  German  Church — the  Word  of  God  was  not  bound. 
The  Gospel  was  eagerly  listened  to  ;  in  vain  did  the 
monks  strive  to  preach  the  Gospel  after  their  own  way, 
and  employ  all  the  means  in  their  power  in  order  to 
arrest  the  general  impulse  :  they  had  no  success.  But 
Capito,  even  while  he  preached  the  new  doctrine, 
laboured  to  continue  in  friendship  with  those  who  per- 
secuted it.  He  flattered  himself,  with  others  of  the 
same  sentiments,  that  he  would  thus  be  of  great  utility 
to  the  Church.  To  hear  them  talk,  it  might  have  been 
supposed  that,  if  Luther  was  not  biu-ut,  if   all  the 

1  See  Book  VIU. 


Lutherans  were  not  excommunicated,  it  was  owing 
entirely  to  Capito's  influence  over  the  Archbishop 
Albert.  Cochlanis,  dean  of  Frankfort,  arriving  at 
Worms  almost  at  the  same  time  with  Luther,  imme- 
diately waited  upon  Capito,  who  being,  apparently  at 
least,  on  very  good  terms  with  Aleander,  introduced 
Cochhcus  to  him,  thus  serving  as  a  connecting  link 
between  the  two  greatest  enemies  of  the  reformer. 
Capito,  doubtless,  thought  that  he  would  do  great  ser- 
vice to  the  cause  of  Christ  by  all  this  management ; 
but  it  cannot  be  said  that  any  good  residted  from  it. 
The  event  almost  always  belies  these  calculations  of 
human  wisdom,  and  ])roves  that  a  decided  course,  while 
it  is  the  most  frank,  is  also  tlie  most  wise. 

Meanwhile,  the  crowd  continued  around  the  hotel  of 
Rhodes,  at  which  Luther  had  alighted.  Some  looked 
upon  him  as  a  prodigy  of  wisdom,  and  others  as  a 
monster  of  iniquity.  The  whole  town  wished  to  see 
him.  The  first  hours  were  left  him  to  recover  from  his 
fatigue,  and  coiiv  r-e  with  his  most  intimate  friends; 
but  as  Mini]  a-  i\.iiing  came,  counts,  barons,  knights, 
gentleniiii,  <  rdr-ia-tics,  and  citizens,  flocked  in  upon 
liim.  All,  cM'ii  Ills  ;;i-('ntpst  enemies,  were  struck  with 
the  bold  step  he  lia.l  lal^  ii.  the  joy  which  api)eared  to 
animate  him,  tin'  puui  r  ni  lils  eloquence,  and  the  lofty 
elevation  and  eutliiisiusui  a\  liich  made  the  influence  of 
this  simple  monk  almost  irresistible.  Many  attributed 
this  gi-audem-  to  something  within  him  partaking  of  the 
Divine ;  while  the  friends  of  the  pope  loudly  declared 
that  he  was  possessed  with  a  devil.  Call  followed  call, 
and  the  crowd  of  curious  visitors  kept  Luther  standing 
to  a  late  period  of  the  night. 

The  next  morning,  (Fridily,  17th  April,)  Ub'ich  of 
Pappenheim,  hereditary  marshal  of  the  empire,  sum- 
moned him  to  appear  at  four  o'clock,  p.m.,  in  presence 
of  his  imperial  majesty  and  the  states  of  the  empire. 
Luther  received  the  summons  with  profound  respect. 

Thus  everything  is  fixed,  and  Luther  is  going  to 
appear  for  Jesus  Christ  before  the  most  august  assembly 
in  the  world.  He  was  not  without  encouragement. 
The  ardent  knight,  Uh-ich  von  Hiitten,  was  then  in  the 
castle  of  Ebernburg.  Not  being  able  to  appear  at 
Worms, — for  Leo  X.  had  asked  Charles  to  send  him 
to  Rome  bound  hand  and  foot, — he  desired  to  stretch 
out  a  friendly  hand  to  Luther ;  and  on  the  same  day 
(17th  April)  wrote  to  him,  borrowing  the  words  of  a 
king  of  Israel :  "  I'he  Lord  hear  thee  in  the  dui/  of  trouble  ; 
the  name  of  the  God  of  Jacob  defend  thee:  send  thee  help 
from  the  sanctuary,  and  streii.i/then  thee  out  of  Zion:  re- 
member all  thy  ojferini/s,  and  accept  thy  burnt  sacrifice, 
(Psalm  XX.)  O  dearly  beloved  Luther !  my  respected 
father,  fear  not,  and  be  strong.  The  council  of  the 
wicked  has  beset  you ;  they  have  opened  their  mouths 
upon  you  like  roaring  lions.  But  the  Lord  will  rise  up 
against  the  wicked  and  scatter  them.  Fight,  then, 
valiantly  for  Christ.  As  for  me,  I  also  will  fight 
boldly.  Would  to  God  I  were  permitted  to  see  the 
wrinkling  of  their  brows.  But  the  Lord  will  cleanse 
His  vine,  which  the  wild  boar  of  the  forest  has  laid 
waste.     .     .     .     May  Christ  preserve  you ! " 

Bucer  did  what  Hiitten  was  unable  to  do;  he  came 
from  Ebernburg  to  AVorms,  and  remained  the  whole 
time  beside  his  friend. 

Four  o'clock  having  struck,  the  marshal  of  the  em- 


200 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


pire  prcseuted  himself.  It  was  necessary  to  set  out, 
and  Luther  made  ready.  He  was  moved  at  the  thought 
of  the  august  congress  before  which  he  was  going  to 
appear.  The  herald  walked  first ;  after  liim  the  mar- 
shal ;  and  last  the  reformer.  The  multitude  thronging 
the  streets  was  still  more  numerous  than  on  the  pre- 
vious evening.  It  was  impossible  to  get  on  ;  it  was  in 
vain  to  cry,  Give  place ! — the  crowd  increased.  At 
length,  the  herald,  seeing  the  impossibility  of  reaching 
the  town  hall,  caused  some  private  houses  to  be  opened, 
and  conducted  Luther  through  gardens  and  secret  pas- 
sages to  the  place  of  meeting.  The  people,  perceiving 
this,  rushed  into  the  houses  on  the  steps  of  the  monk  of 
"Wittemberg,  or  placed  themselves  at  the  windows 
which  looked  into  the  gardens,  while  great  numbers  of 
persons  got  up  on  the  roofs.  The  tops  of  the  houses, 
the  pavement,  every  place  above  and  below,  was  covered 
with  spectators. 


Arrived  at  length  at  the  town,  Luther  and  those 
who  accompanied  him  were  agaiu  unable,  because  of 
the  crowd,  to  reach  the  door.  Give  way !  give  way ! 
Not  one  stirred.  At  last  the  imperial  soldiers  forced 
a  passage  for  Luther.  The  people  rushed  forward  to 
get  in  after  him,  but  the  soldiers  kept  them  back  with 
their  halberds.  Luther  got  into  the  interior  of  the 
building,  which  was  completely  filled  with  people.  As 
well  in  the  antechambers  as  at  the  windows  there  were 
more  than  five  thousand  spectators, — German,  Italian, 
Spanish,  &c.  Luther  advanced  with  difficulty.  As 
he  was  at  length  approaching  the  door  which  was  to 
bring  him  in  presence  of  his  judges,  he  met  a  valiant 
knight, — the  celebrated  general,  George  of  Freunds- 
berg, — who,  four  years  afterwards,  at  the  head  of  the 
Germau  lansquenets,  couched  his  lance  on  the  field  of 
Pavia,  and  bearing  down  upon  the  left  wing  of  the 
French  army,  drove  it  into  the  Tessino,  and,  in  a  great 
measure,  decided  the  captivity  of  the  King  of  France. 


The  old  general,  seeiug  Luther  pass,  clapped  him  on 
the  shoulder,  and  shaking  his  head,  whitened  in  battle, 
kindly  said  to  him  :  "  Poor  monk !  poor  monk !  you  have 
before  you  a  march,  and  an  affair,  the  like  to  which 
neither  I  nor  a  great  many  captains  have  ever  seen  in 
the  bloodiest  of  our  battles.  But  if  your  cause  is  just, 
and  you  have  full  confidence  in  it,  advance  in  the 
name  of  God,  and  fear  nothing.  God  will  not  forsake 
you."  A  beautiful  homage  borne  by  warlike  courage 
to  courage  of  intellect.  It  is  the  saying  of  a  king  :  Hn 
that  rukth  his  spirit  is  greater  than  he  that  ta/ceth  a  citi/, 
(Proverbs  xvi.  32.) 

At  length,  the  doors  of  the  hall  being  opened, 
Luther  entered,  and  many  persons  not  belonging  to  the 
diet  made  their  way  in  along  with  him.  Never  had 
man  appeared  before  an  assembly  so  august.  The 
Emperor  Charles  V.,  whose  dominions  embraced  the 
old  and  the  new  world ;  his  brother,  the  Archduke 
Ferdinand ;  six  electors  of  the  empire,  whose  descend- 
ants are  now  almost  all  wearing  ''le  crown  of  kings ; 
twenty-four  dukes,  the  greater  part  of  them  reigning 
over  territories  of  gi'eater  or  less  extent,  and  among 
whom  are  some  bearing  a  name  which  will  afterwards 
become  fomiidable  to  the  Reformation,  (the  Duke  of 
Alva,  and  his  two  sons  ;)  eight  margraves ;  thirty  ai'ch- 
bishops,  bishops,  or  prelates  ;  seven  ambassadors,  among 
them  those  of  the  kings  of  France  and  England ;  the 
deputies  of  ten  free  towns ;  a  great  number  of  princes, 
counts,  and  sovereign  barons  ;  the  nuncios  of  the  pope ; 
— in  all,  two  hundred  and  four  personages.  Such  was 
the  court  before  which  Martin  Luther  appeared. 

This  appearance  was  in  itself  a  signal  victory  gained 
over  the  papacy.  The  pope  had  condemned  the  man  ; 
yet  here  he  stood  before  a  tribunal  which  thus  far 
placed  itself  above  the  pope.  The  pope  had  put  him 
under  his  ban,  debarring  him  from  all  human  society, 
and  yet  here  he  was  convened  in  honourable  terms, 
and  admitted  before  the  most  august  assembly  in  the 
world.  The  pope  had  ordered  that  his  mouth  should 
be  for  ever  mute,  and  he  was  going  to  open  it  before 
an  audience  of  thousands,  assembled  from  the  remotest 
quarters  of  Christendom.  An  immense  revolution  had 
thus  been  accomplished  by  the  instrumentality  of  Luther 
Rome  was  descending  from  her  throne — descending  at 
the  bidding  of  a  monk. 

Some  of  the  princes,  seeing  the  humble  son  of  the 
miner  of  Mansfeld  disconcerted  in  presence  of  the  as- 
sembly of  kings,  kindly  approached  him,  and  one  of 
them  said  :  Fear  not  them  who  can  hill  the  bod//,  but  can- 
not kill  the  soul.  Another  added :  When  you  will  be 
brought  before  kings  it  is  not  you  that  speak,  but  the  Spirit 
of  your  Father  that  speaketh  in  you.  Thus  the  reformer 
was  consoled,  in  the  very  words  of  his  Master,  by  the 
instrumentality  of  the  rulers  of  the  world. 

During  this  time  the  guards  were  making  way  for 
Luther,  who  advanced  till  he  came  in  front  of  the 
throne  of  Charles  V.  The  sight  of  the  august  assembly 
seemed  for  a  moment  to  dazzle  and  overawe  Ijim.  All 
eyes  were  fixed  upon  him.  The  agitation  gradually 
calmed  down  into  perfect  silence.  '•  Don't  speak  be- 
fore you  are  asked,"  said  the  marshal  of  the  empire  to 
him,  and  withdrew. 

After  a  moment  of  solemn  stillness,  John  of  Eck,  the 
chancellor  of  the  Archbishop  of  Treves, — a  friend  of 


LUTHER  BEFORE  THE  IMPERIAL  TRIBUNAL. 


201 


Aloi' 


and  who  must  not  be  confounded  'with  the 
thcohinian  of  tlic  same  name, — rose  up  and  said,  in  a 
distiiK't  and  audible  voice,  lirst  in  Latin,  and  tlieu  in 
German:  '■  Martin  Luther,  liis  sacred  and  invincible 
imperial  majesty  has  cited  you  before  his  throne,  by 
the  advice  and  counsel  of  the  states  of  the  holy  Roman 
cm})ire,  in  order  to  call  upon  you  to  answer  these  two 
qufslions:  First,  Do  you  admit  that  these  books  were 
coiii])oscd  by  you?" — At  the  same  time  the  imperial 
orator  pointed  to  about  twenty  books  lying  on  the  table 
in  the  middle  of  the  hall,  in  front  of  Luther.  "I  did 
not  exactly  know  how  they  had  procured  them,"  says 
Luther,  in  relating  the  circumstance.  It  was  Alcander 
who  had  taken  tlie  trouble.  "  Secondly,"  continued 
the  chancellor :  "Do  you  mean  to  retract  these  books 
and  their  contents,  or  do  you  peraist  in  the  things 
which  you  have  advanced  in  them?" 

Lutlicr,  witlioul  hesitation,  was  going  to  reply  in  the 
nllirniative  to  tlic  former  question,  when  his  counsel, 
Jerome  Sclun-ff,  hastily  interfering,  called  out :  "  Read 
the  titles  of  the  books."  The  chancellor,  going  up  to 
the  table,  read  the  titles.  The  list  contained  several 
devotional  works  not  relating  to  controversy. 

After  the  enumeration,  Luther  said,  first  in  Latin, 
and  then  in  German  : 

"Most  gracious  emperor! — gracious  princes  and 
lords ! 

"  His  imperial  majesty  asks  me  two  questions. 

"As  to  the  first,  I  acknowledge  that  the  books 
which  have  been  named  are  mine  :  I  cannot  deny  them. 

"As  to  the  second,  considering  that  is  a  question 
which  concerns  faith  and  the  salvation  of  souls, — a 
question  in  which  the  Word  of  God  is  interested ;  in 
other  words,  the  greatest  and  most  precious  treasure 
either  in  heaven  or  on  the  earth, — I  should  act  impru- 
dently were  I  to  answer  without  reflection.  I  might 
say  less  than  the  occasion  requires,  or  more  than  the 
truth  demands,  and  thus  incur  the  guilt  which  our 
Saviour  denounced  when  He  said :  W/ioso  shall  deny  me 
before  7nen,  him  ivill  I  demj  before  mi/  Father  ivho  is  in 
heaven.  Wherefore,  I  pray  your  imperial  majesty, 
with  all  submission,  to  give  me  time,  that  I  may  answer 
without  offence  to  the  Word  of  God." 

This  reply,  far  from  countenancing  the  idea  that 
there  was  any  hesitation  in  Luther,  was  worthy  of  the 
reformer  and  the  assembly.  It  became  him  to  shew 
calmness  and  circumspection  in  so  grave  a  matter,  and 
to  refrain,  on  this  solemn  moment,  from  everything  that 
might  seem  to  indicate  passion  or  levity.  Moreover, 
by  taking  a  suitable  time,  he  would  thereby  the  better 
prove  the  immoveable  firmness  of  his  resolution.  His- 
tory shews  us  many  men  who,  by  a  word  uttered  too 
hastily,  brought  great  calamities  on  themselves,  and 
ou  the  world.  Luther  curbs  his  naturally  impetuous 
character, — restrains  a  tongue  always  ready  to  give 
utterance, — is  silent  when  all  the  feelings  of  his  heart 
are  longing  to  embody  themselves  in  words.  This 
self-restraint,  this  calmness,  so  extraordinary  in  such  a 
man,  increased  his  power  a  hundred-fold,  and  put  him 
into  a  position  to  answer  afterwards  with  a  wisdom, 
power,  and  dignity,  which  will  disappoint  the  expecta- 
tion of  his  enemies,  and  confound  their  pride  and 
malice. 

Nevertheless,  as  he  had  spoken  in  a  respectful  and 


somewhat  subdued  tone,  several  thought  he  was  hesi- 
tating, and  even  afraid.  A  ray  of  hope  gleamed  into 
the  souls  of  the  partisans  of  Rome.  Charles,  impatient 
to  know  the  man  whose  words  shook  the  empire,  had 
never  taken  his  eye  off  him.  Now  turning  towards 
one  of  his  courtiers,  he  said  with  disdain :  "Assuredly, 
that  is  not  the  man  who  would  ever  make  me  turn 
heretic."  Then,  rising  up,  the  young  emperor  with- 
drew with  his  miuistei-s  to  the  council  chamber;  the 
electors  with  the  princes  were  closeted  in  another ;  and 
the  deputies  of  the  free  towns  in  a  third.  The  diet, 
when  it  again  met,  agreed  to  grant  Luther's  request. 
It  was  a  great  mistake  in  men  under  the  influence  of 
passion.  "Martin  Luther,"  said  the  Chancellor  of 
Treves,  "  his  imperial  majesty,  in  accordance  with  the 
goodness  which  is  natural  to  him,  is  pleased  to  grant 
you  another  day;  but  on  condition  that  you  give  your 
reply  verbally,  and  not  in  writing." 

Then  tiie  imperial  herald  advanced  and  reconducted 
Luther  to  his  hotel.  Menaces  and  cheers  succeeded 
each  other  as  he  passed  along.  The  most  unfavourable 
reports  were  circulated  among  Luther's  friends.  "  Tlie 
diet  is  dissatisfied,"  said  they;  "the  envoys  of  the  pope 
triumph  ;  the  reformer  will  be  sacrificed."  INIen's  pas- 
sions gi-ew  hot.  Several  gentletnen  hastened  to  Luther's 
lodgings.  "  Doctor,"  asked  they  iu  deep  emotion,  "  how 
does  the  matter  stand?  It  is  confidently  said  that 
they  mean  to  burn  you."  "  That  won't  be,"  continued 
they,  "  or  they  shall  pay  for  it  with  their  lives." — "And 
that  would  have  been  the  result,"  said  Luther,  twenty 
years  later,  at  Eisleben,  when  quoting  these  expressions. 

On  the  other  hand,  Luther's  eneinies  were  quite 
elated.  "He  has  asked  time,"  said  they;  "he  will 
retract.  When  at  a  distance  he  sjioke  arrogantly;  but 
now  his  courage  fails  hira.     .     .     He  is  vanquished." 

Luther,  perhaps,  was  the  only  tranquil  person  in 
AVorms.  A  few  moments  after  his  return  from  the 
diet,  he  wrote  to  the  imperial  councillor,  Cuspianus : 
"  I  write  you  from  the  midst  of  timiult.  (meaning,  prob- 
ably, the  noise  of  the  crowd  outside  his  hotel ;)  I  have, 
within  this  hour,  appeared  before  the  emperor  and  his 
brother.  I  have  acknowledged  the  authorship,  and 
declared  that  to-morrow  I  will  give  my  answer  con- 
cerning retractation.  By  the  help  of  Jesus  Christ,  not 
one  iota  of  all  my  works  will  I  retract." 

The  excitement  of  the  people,  and  of  the  foreign 
ti-oops,  increased  every  hour.  While  parties  were  pro- 
ceeding calmly  to  the  business  of  the  diet,  others  were 
coming  to  blows  in  the  streets.  The  Spanish  soldiers, 
proud  and  merciless,  gave  offence  by  their  insolence  to 
the  burghers  of  the  town.  One  of  these  satellites  of 
Charles,  finding  in  a  bookseller's  shop  the  papal  bull, 
with  a  commentary  on  it  by  HUtten,  took  and  tore  it 
to  pieces,  and  then  trampled  the  fragments  under  his 
feet.  Others,  having  discovered  several  copies  of 
Luther's  "  Captivity  of  Babylon,"  carried  them  off  and 
tore  them.  The  people,  indignant,  rushed  upon  the 
soldiers,  and  obliged  them  to  take  flight.  On  another 
occasion,  a  Spanish  horseman,  with  drawn  sword,  was 
seen  in  one  of  the  principal  streets  of  Worms  in  pur- 
suit of  a  German  who  was  fleeing  before  him,  while 
the  people  durst  not  interfere. 

Some  politicians  thought  they  had  discovered  a 
method  of  saving  Luther.     "  Recant  your  errors  in 


202 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


doctrine,"  said  they  to  him ;  "  but  persist  in  all  you 
have  said  against  the  pope  and  his  court,  and  you  are 
safe."  Aleauder  shuddered  at  this  advice.  But  Luther, 
immoveable  in  his  purpose,  declared  that  he  set  little 
value  on  a  political  reform,  if  not  founded  on  faith. 

The  18th  of  April  having  arrived,  Glapio,  the  Chan- 
cellor Eck,  and  Aleauder,  met  at  an  early  hour,  by 
order  of  Charles  V.,  to  fix  the  course  of  procedure  in 
regard  to  Luther. 

Luther  had  been  for  a  moment  overawed  on  the 
evening  before  when  he  had  to  appear  before  so  august 
an  assembly.  His  heart  had  been  agitated  at  the  sight 
of  so  many  princes,  before  whom  great  kingdoms 
humbly  bent  the  knee.  The  thought  that  he  was  goiug 
to  refuse  obedience  to  men  whom  God  had  invested 
with  sovereign  power,  gave  him  deep  concern  ;  and  he 
felt  the  necessity  of  seeking  strength  from  a  higher 
source.  "  He  who,  attacked  by  the  enemy,  holds  the 
shield  of  faith,"  said  he  one  day,  "  is  like  Perseus  hold- 
ing the  head  of  the  Gorgon,  on  which  whoever  looked, 
that  moment  died.  So  ought  we  to  hold  up  the  Sou  of 
God  against  the  snares  of  the  devil."  On  this  morn- 
ing of  the  18th  April,  he  had  moments  of  trouble,  when 
the  face  of  God  was  hid  from  him.  His  faith  becomes 
faint;  his  enemies  seem  to  multiply  before  him;  his 
imagination  is  overpowered.  .  .  .  His  soul  is  like 
a  ship  tossed  by  a  violent  tempest, — now  plunged  to 
the  depths  of  the  sea,  and  again  mounting  up  towards 
heaven.  At  this  hour  of  bitter  sorrow,  when  he  drinks 
the  cup  of  Christ,  and  feels,  as  it  were,  in  a  garden  of 
Gethsemane,  he  turns  his  face  to  the  ground,  and  seuds 
forth  broken  cries — cries  which  we  cannot  comprehend, 
unless  we  figure  to  ourselves  the  depth  of  the  agony 
from  which  they  ascended  up  to  God :  "  God  Al- 
mighty!— God  Eternal! — how  terrible  is  the  world! 
how  it  opens  its  mouth  to  swallow  me  up  !  and  how 
defective  my  confidence  iu  thee !  How  weak  the  flesh  ! 
how  powerful  Satan  !  If  I  must  put  my  hope  iu  that 
which  the  world  calls  powerful,  I  am  undone  !  .  .  . 
The  knell  is  struck,  and  judgment  is  pronounced!  .  . 
O  God  ! — O  God  !  O  thou,  my  God !  assist  me  against 
all  the  wisdom  of  the  world !  Do  it :  thou  must  do  it. 
.  .  .  Thou  alone ;  .  .  .  for  it  is  not  my  work, 
but  thine.  I  have  nothing  to  do  here, — I  have  nothing 
to  do  contending  thus  with  the  mighty  of  the  world ! 
I,  too,  would  like  to  spend  tranquil  and  happy  days. 
But  the  cause  is  thine;  and  it  is  just  and  everlasting! 

0  Lord  !  be  my  help.     Faithful  God  !  immutable  God ! 

1  trust  not  in  any  man.  That  were  vain.  All  that  is 
of  man  vacillates  !  All  that  comes  of  man  gives  way! 
O  God !  O  God !  dost  thou  not  hear  ?  .  .  .  My 
God !  art  thou  dead  1  .  .  .  No ;  thou  canst  not 
die !  Thou  only  liidest  thyself  I  Thou  hast  chosen 
me  for  this  work !  I  know  it.  Act,  then,  O  God ! 
.  .  .  Stand  by  my  side,  for  the  sake  of  thy  well- 
beloved  Sou  Jesus  Christ,  who  is  my  defence,  my 
buckler,  and  my  fortress  !" 

After  a  moment  of  silence  and  wrestling,  he  con- 
tinues  thus :    "  Lord,   where   standest  thou  /     . 

0  my  God,  where  art  thou  ?     .     .     .     Come !  come  ! 

1  am  ready!  ...  I  am  ready  to  give  up  my  life 
for  thy  truth  .  .  .  patient  as  a  lamb.  For  the 
cause  is  just,  and  it  is  thine !  .  .  .  I  will  not  break 
off  from  thee,  either  now  or  through  eternity!     .     ,     . 


And  though  the  world  should  be  filled  with  devils, 
though  my  body — wliich,  however,  is  the  work  of  thy 
hands — should  bite  the  dust,  be  racked  on  the  wheel, 
cut  in  pieces,  .  .  .  ground  to  powder,  .  .  . 
my  soul  is  thine.  Yes,  thy  Word  is  my  pledge.  My 
soul  belongs  to  thee,  and  will  be  eternally  near  thee. 
.  .  .  Amen.  .  .  .  O  God,  help  me !  .  .  . 
Amen." 

This  prayer  explains  Luther  and  the  Reformation. 
History  here  lifts  the  veil  of  the  sanctuary,  and  shews 
us  the  secret  place  whence  strength  and  courage  were 
imparted  to  this  humble  man,  who  was  the  instrumeut 
of  God  in  emancipating  the  soul  and  the  thoughts  of 
men,  and  beginning  a  new  era.  Luther  and  the  Refor- 
mation are  here  seen  in  actual  operation.  We  perceive 
their  most  secret  springs.  We  discover  where  their 
power  lay.  This  meditation  by  one  who  is  sacrificing 
himself  to  the  cause  of  truth,  is  fouiul  among  the 
collection  of  pieces  relating  to  Luther's  appearance  at 
Worms,  under  Number  XVI.,  among  safe-conducts, 
and  other  documents  of  a  similar  description.  Some 
of  his  friends,  doubtless,  extended  it,  and  so  have  pre- 
served it  to  us.  In  my  opinion,  it  is  one  of  the  finest 
documents  on  record. 

Luther,  after  he  had  thus  prayed,  found  that  peace 
of  mind  without  which  no  man  can  do  anything  great. 
He  read  the  Word  of  God ;  he  glanced  over  his  writ- 
ings, and  endeavoured  to  put  his  reply  into  proper 
shape.  The  th.m-hl  tliat  In;  was  -(.iiii;-  t.i  brar  testi- 
mony to  Jesu-  Cliri-I  and  Hi-  W'oid.  in  |iirsi'iic-c  of  the 
emperor  a}id  Ihi-  I'luiiirc,  iilli'd  his  luarl  wiMi  joy.  The 
moment  of  appearance  was  drawinninar ;  lie  «ciit  up 
with  emotion  to  the  sacred  volume,  which  was  lying 
open  on  his  table,  put  his  left  hand  upmi  it,  and  lifting 
his  rialit  toward  heaven,  swore  to  remain  faithful  to  [ 
the  (inspiL  and  to  confess  his  faith  freely,  shoidd  he  j 
even  seal  his  cimfession  with  liis  blood.  After  doing 
so,  lie  felt  still  more  at  peace. 

At  four  o'clock  the   herald  preseuted  himself,  and 
conducted  him  to  the  place  where  the  diet  sat.     The 
general  curiosity  had  increased,  for  the  reply  behoved 
to  be  decisive.     The  diet  being  engaged,  Luther  was 
obliged  to  wait  in  the  court,  in  the  middle  of  an  im- 
mense crowd,  who  moved  to  and  fro  like  a  troubled 
sea,  and  pressed  the  reformer  with  its  waves.     The     j 
doctor  spent  two  long  hours  amid  this  gazing  multi- 
tude.    "  I  was  not  used,"  says  he,  "  to  all  these  doings 
and  all  this  noise."     It  would  have  been  a  sad  prepar-     j 
ation  for  an  ordinary  man.    But  Luther  was  with  God. 
His  eye  was  serene,  his  features  lun-uffled ;  the  Eternal 
had  placed  him  upon  a  rock.     Night  began  to  fall,  and 
the  lann)s  were  lighted  in  the  hall  of  the  diet.     Their 
glare  passed  through  the  ancient  windows  and  shone 
into  the  com-t.     Everything  assumed  a  solemn  aspect,     i 
At  last  the   doctor  was   introduced.      Many   persons    1 
entered  with  him ;    for  there  was  an  eager  desire  to 
hear  his  answer.     All  minds  were  on  the  stretch,  wait- 
ing  impatiently  for  the   decisive  moment  which  now 
approached.     This  time  Luther  was  free,  calm,  self- 
possessed,   and  shewed  not   the   least   appearance   of 
being   under    constraint.      Prayer    had    produced    its     j 
fruits.     The    princes  having  taken  their   seats, — not     I 
without    difficulty,   for   their   places  were  almost  in- 
vaded,— and  the  monk  of  Wittemberg  again  standing 


LUTHER'S  DEFENCE  BEFORE  THE  DIET. 


203 


in  frout  of  Charles  V.,  the  chiuicellor  of  the  Elector  of 
Treves  rose  up,  and  said : — 

'•Martin  Luther!  you  yesterday  asked  a  delay, 
which  is  now  expired.  Assuredly  it  might  have  been 
denied  yon,  since  every  one  ought  to  be  sufficiently 
instructed  in  matters  of  faith,  to  be  able  always  to 
render  an  account  of  it  to  whosoever  asks, — ^you  above 
all,  so  great  and  able  a  doctor  of  Holy  Scripture. 
.  .  .  Now,  then,  reply  to  tlie  question  of  his  ma- 
jesty, who  has  treated  you  with  so  much  mildness :  Do 
you  mean  to  defend  your  books  out  and  out,  or  do  you 
mean  to  retract  some  part  of  them?" 

These  words,  which  the  cluiucellor  had  si)oken  in 
Latin,  he  repeated  in  German. 

"Then  Doctor  Martin  Luther,"  say  the  Acts  of 
AVorms,  "  replied  in  the  most  humble  and  submissive 
manner,  lie  did  not  raise  his  voice ;  he  spoke  not 
with  violence,  but  witli  candour,  meekness,  suitable- 
ness, and  modesty,  and  yet  with  great  joy  and  Christian 
firmness." 

"  JNIost  serene  emperor !  illustrious  princes  !  gracious 
lords!"  said  Luther,  turning  his  eyes  on  Charles  and 
the  assembly,  "I  this  day  appear  linmbly  liefore  you, 
according  to  the  order  which  wa^  -i\rii  me  yesterday: 
and  by  the  mercies  of  Goil,  1  iinplMr,.  v,,iii-  niaicsty  and 
au-iist  hi-Iiiiosscs,  to  listen  kin.lly  In  thr  .l.lriice  of  a 
caii-r  wliiili  I  am  assured  is  ri,i;lil'"ii<  ami  li-ue.  If, 
fiMiM  i;jii.ii:\ni-r,  I  am  wanting  in  ilu'  u-au.  >  and  forms 
of  c'liiins,  pardon  me;  for  1  wa^  iint  lll^m.^h^  up  in  the 
pahices  of  kings,  but  in  ihr  nli-miiiv  i.f  a  cloister. 

••Yesterday,  two  qiaMi-a^  u.r>'  a^kcd  mo  on  the 
part  of  liis  imperial  niajoly:  ilir  lirst,  if  I  was  the 
antlior  of  the  books  whose  titles  were  read  ;  the  second, 
if  1  was  willing  to  recall  or  to  defend  the  doctrine 
which  I  have  taught  in  them.  I  answered  the  first 
(piestion,  and  I  adhere  to  my  answer. 

'•  As  to  the  second,  1  have  composed  books  on  very 
different  subjects.  In  some,  I  treat  of  faith  and  good 
>vorks  in  a  manner  so  pure,  simple,  and  Christian,  that 
my  enemies  even,  far  from  finding  anything  to  censure, 
confess  that  these  writings  are  useful,  and  worthy  of 
being  read  by  the  godly.  The  papal  bull,  how  severe 
soever  it  may  be,  acknowledges  this.  Were  I  then  to 
retract  these,  what  should  I  do  ?  .  .  .  Wretch !  I 
should  be  alone  among  men,  abandoning  truths  which 
the  unanimous  voice  of  my  friends  and  enemies 
approves,  and  opposing  what  the  whole  world  glories 
in  confessing. 

'"  In  the  second  place,  I  have  composed  books  against 
the  papacy — books  in  which  I  have  attacked  those 
who,  by  their  false  doctrine,  their  bad  life,  and  scanda- 
lous example,  desolate  the  Christian  world,  and  destroy 
botli  body  and  soul.  Is  not  the  fact  proved  by  the 
complaints  of  all  who  fear  God?  Is  it  not  evident 
that  the  human  laws  and  doctrines  of  the  popes,  entan- 
gle, torture,  martyr  the  consciences  of  the  faithful ; 
while  the  clamant  and  never-ending  extortions  of 
Uome  engulph  the  wealth  and  riches  of  Christendom, 
and  i)articularly  of  this  illustrious  kingdom  ? 

"  Were  I  to  retract  what  I  have  written  on  this  sub- 
ject, what  should  I  do?  .  .  .  What  but  fortify 
that  tyranny,  and  open  a  still  wider  door  for  these 
many  and  great  iniquities?  Then,  breaking  forth  with 
more  fury  than  ever,  these  arrogant  men  would  be  seen 


increasing,  usurping,  raging  more  and  more.  And  the 
yoke  which  weighs  upon  the  Christian  people  would, 
by  my  retractation,  not  only  be  rendered  more  severe, 
but  would  become,  so  to  speak,  more  legitimate ;  for 
by  this  very  retractation,  it  would  have  received  the 
confirmation  of  your  most  serene  majesty,  and  of  all 
the  states  of  the  holy  empire.  Good  God!  I  should 
thus  lie,  as  it  were,  an  infamous  cloak,  destined  to  hide 
and  ciivcr  all  sorts  of  malice  and  tyranny. 

'•Tliii-dly,  and  lastly,  I  have  written  books  against 
private  individuals  who  wished  to  defend  Roman 
tyranny  and  to  destroy  the  faith.  I  confess  frankly 
that  I  have  perhaps  attacked  them  witli  more  violence 
than  became  my  ecclesiastical  profession.  I  do  not 
regard  myself  iis  a  saint ;  but  no  more  can  I  retract 
these  books :  because,  by  so  doing,  I  should  sanction 
the  impiety  of  my  opponents,  and  give  them  occa- 
sion to  oppress  the  people  of  God  with  still  greater 
cruelty. 

"  Still  I  am  a  mere  man,  and  not  God ;  and  I  will 
defend  myself  as  Jesus  Christ  did.  He  said  •■  If  I 
have  spoken  evil,  hear  tvitness  of  the  evil,  (John  xviii.  23.) 
How  much  more  should  I,  who  am  but  dust  and  ashes, 
and  so  apt  to  err,  desire  every  one  to  state  what  he  can 
against  my  doctrine ! 

"  Wherefore,  I  implore  you,  by  the  mercies  of  God, 
you,  most  serene  emperor,  and  you,  most  illustrious 
princes,  and  all  others  of  high  or  low  degree,  to  prove 
to  me  by  the  writings  of  the  prophets  and  the  apostles 
that  I  am  mistaken.  As  soon  as  this  shall  have  been 
proved,  I  will  forthwith  retract  all  my  errors,  and  be 
the  first  to  seize  my  writings  and  cast  them  into  the 
flames. 

"What  I  have  just  said  shews  clearly,  I  think,  that 
I  have  well  considered  and  weighed  the  dangers  to 
which  I  expose  myself ;  but,  far  from  being  alarmed, 
it  gives  me  great  joy  to  see  that  the  Gospel  is  now,  as 
in  former  times,  a  cause  of  trouble  and  discord.  This 
is  the  characteristic  and  the  destiny  of  the  Word  of 
God.  I  came  not  to  send  peace,  but  a  sword,  said  Jesus 
Christ,  (Matt.  x.  34.)  God  is  wonderful  and  terrible 
in  working :  let  us  beware,  while  pretending  to  put  a 
stop  to  discord,  that  we  do  not  persecute  the  holy 
Word  of  God,  and  bring  in  upon  ourselves  a  frightful 
deluge  of  insurmountable  dangers,  present  disasters, 
and  eternal  destruction.  .  .  .  Let  us  beware  that 
the  reign  of  this  young  and  noble  prince,  the  Emperor 
Charles,  on  whom,  inider  God,  we  build  such  high 
hopes,  do  not  only  begin,  but  <nlso  continue  and  end 
vmder  the  most  fatal  auspices.  I  might  cite  examples 
taken  from  the  oracles  of  God,"  continues  Luther, 
speaking  in  presence  of  the  greatest  monarch  in  the 
world  with  the  noblest  courage ;  "  I  might  remind  you 
of  the  Pharaohs,  the  kings  of  Babylon  and  of  Israel, 
who  never  laboured  more  effectually  for  their  ruiu 
than  when  by  counsels,  apparently  very  wise,  they 
thought  they  were  establishing  their  empire.  God 
remoreth  the  mountains,  and  they  Icnoiv  not,  (Job  ix.  5.) 

"  If  I  speak  thus,  it  is  not  because  1  think  such  great 
princes  have  need  of  my  counsels,  but  because  I  wish 
to  restore  to  Germany  what  she  has  a  right  to  expect 
from  her  children.  Thus,  commending  myself  to  your 
august  majesty,  and  your  serene  highnesses,  I  humbly 
supplicate  you  not  to  allow  the  hatred  of  my  enemies 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


to  bring  down  upon  nic  an  indignation  whicli  I  have 
not  deserved."' 

Luther  had  spoken  these  words  in  German,  modestly, 
but  also  with  much  warmth  and  firmness.  He  was 
ordered  to  repeat  them  in  Latin.  The  emperor  had  no 
liking  for  German.  The  imposing  assembly  which 
surrounded  tlie  reformer,  the  noise  and  excitement,  had 
fatigued  him.  "I  was  covered  with  perspiration,"  says 
ho,  "  heated  by  the  crowd,  standing  in  the  midst  of  the 
princes."  Frederick  de  Thun,  confidential  councillor 
of  the  Elector  of  Saxony,  stationed  by  his  master's 
order  behind  the  reformer,  to  take  care  that  he  was 
not  taken  by  surprise,  or  overborne,  seeing  the  con- 
dition of  the  poor  monk,  said  to  him  :  "If  you  cannot 
repeat  your  address,  that  will  do,  doctor."  But  Luther, 
having  paused  a  moment  to  take  breath,  resumed,  and 
pronounced  his  address  in  Latin,  with  the  same  vigour 
as  at  first. 

"This  pleased  the  Elector  Frederick  exceedingly," 
relates  the  reformer. 

As  soon  as  he  had  cea.sed,  the  Chancellor  of  Treves, 
the  orator  of  the  diet,  said  to  him,  indignantly:  "You 
have  not  answered  the  question  which  was  put  to  you. 
You  are  not  here  to  throw  doubt  on  what  has  been 
decided  by  councils.  You  are  asked  to  give  a  clear 
and  definite  reply.  Will  you,  or  will  you  not,  retract  ?  " 
Luther  then  replied,  without  hesitation :  "  Since  your 
most  serene  majesty,  and  your  high  mightinesses,  call 
upon  mo  for  a  simple,  clear,  and  definite  answer,  I  will 
give  it ;  and  it  is  this  :  I  cannot  subject  my  faith  either 
to  the  pope  or  to  councils,  because  it  is  clear  as  day, 
that  they  have  often  fallen  into  error,  and  even  into 
great  self-contradiction.  If,  then,  I  am  not  disproved 
by  passages  of  Scripture,  or  by  clear  arguments, — if  I 
am  not  convinced  by  the  very  passages  which  I  have 
quoted,  and  so  bound  in  conscience  to  submit  to  the 
Word  of  God,  /  neither  can  nor  will  retract  anything, 
for  it  is  not  safe  for  a  Christian  to  speak  against  his 
conscience."  Then,  looking  around  on  the  assembly 
before  which  he  was  standing,  and  which  held  his  life 
in  its  hands,  "  Here  I  am,"  says  he,  "  I  cannot  do 
OTHER^nsE  :  God  help  me  !    Amen." 

Thus  Luther,  constrained  to  obey  his  faith,  led  by 
his  conscience  to  death,  impelled  by  the  noblest  neces- 
sity, the  slave  of  what  he  believes,  but  in  this  slavery 
supremely  free,  like  to  the  ship  tossed  by  a  fearful 
tempest,  which,  in  order  to  save  something  more 
precious  than  itself,  is  voluntarily  allowed  to  dash 
itself  to  pieces  against  a  rock,  pronounces  these  sublime 
words,  which  have  not  lost  their  thrilling  effect  after 
the  lapse  of  three  centuries  ;  thus  speaks  a  monk  before 
the  emperor  and  the  magnates  of  the  empii-e ;  and  this 
poor  and  feeble  individual,  standing  alone,  but  leaning 
on  the  grace  of  the  Most  High,  seems  greater  and 
stronger  than  them  all.  His  Word  has  a  power  against 
which  all  these  mighty  men  can  do  nothing.  The  em- 
pire and  the  Church,  on  the  one  side,  the  obscure 
individual  on  the  other,  have  been  confronted.  God 
had  assembled  these  kings  and  prelates  that  He  miglit 
publicly  bring  their  wisdom  to  nought.  They  have 
lost  the  battle,  and  the  consequences  of  their  defeat 
will  be  felt  in  all  nations,  and  during  all  future  ages. 

1  This  Bdtlvess,  as  well  as  all  tho  exprossioiia  (jnotcd,  are  taken  literally 
fl-oni  authentic  documents. 


The  assembly  were  amazed.  Several  princes  could 
scarcely  conceal  their  admiration.  Tlie  emperor, 
changing  his  first  impression,  exclaimed :  "  The  monk 
speaks  with  an  intrepid  heart  and  immoveable  cour- 
age." The  Spaniards  and  Italians  alone  felt  discon- 
certed, and  soon  began  to  deride  a  magnanimity  which 
they  could  not  appreciate. 

After  the  diet  had  recovered  from  the  impression 
produced  by  the  address,  the  chancellor  resumed :  "  If 
you  do  not  retract,  the  emperor  and  the  states  of  the 
empire  will  consider  what  course  they  must  adopt 
towards  an  obstinate  heretic."  At  these  words 
Luther's  friends  trembled ;  but  the  monk  again  said : 
"  God  help  me  ;  for  I  can  retract  nothing." 

Luther  then  withdraws,  and  the  princes  deliberate. 
Every  one  felt  that  the  moment  formed  a  crisis  in 
Christendom.  The  yea  or  nay  of  this  monk  was 
destined,  perhaps  for  ages,  to  determine  the  condition 
of  the  Clinrcli  and  the  world.  It  was  wished  to 
fri.i;]iti'ii  liiiii  ;  lull  llic  I'lTirt  IkhI  lioen  to  place  him  on 
a  pril-i.il  in  |iri-i'iiri'  i.T  tlir  n:itinn.  It  was  meant  to 
give  inuru  jjublicity  tu  hi.s  dctVat ;  and  all  that  had  been 
done  was  to  extend  his  victory.  The  partisans  of 
Rome  could  not  submit  to  bear  their  humiliation. 
Luther  w;is  recalled,  and  the  orator  thus  addressed 
him :  "  Martin,  you  have  not  spoken  with  the  modesty 
which  became  your  office.  The  distinction  you  have 
made  between  your  books  was  useless,  for  if  you 
retract  those  which  contain  errors,  the  empire  will 
not  allow  the  others  to  be  burnt.  It  is  extravagant 
to  insist  on  being  refuted  from  Scripture,  when  you 
revive  heresies  which  were  condemned  by  tlie  universal 
Council  of  Constance.  The  emperor,  therefore,  orders 
you  to  say  simply.  Do  you  mean  to  maintain  what  you 
have  advanced,  or  do  you  mean  to  retract  any  part  of 
it — yes  or  no?" — "I  have  no  other  answer  than  that 
which  I  have  already  given,"  replied  Luther  calmly. 
He  was  now  understood.  Firm  as  a  rock,  all  the 
billows  of  human  power  had  dashed  against  him  iu 
vain.  The  vigour  of  his  eloquence,  his  intrepid  coun- 
tenance, the  flashing  of  his  eye,  the  immoveable  firm- 
ness imprinted  in  bold  lineaments  on  his  German 
features,  had  produced  the  deepest  impression  on  this 
illustrious  assembly.  There  was  no  longer  any  hope. 
Spaniards,  Belgians,  and  even  Romans,  were  mute. 
The  monk  was  victorious  over  earthly  grandeur.  He 
had  negatived  the  Church  and  the  empire.  Charles 
rose  up,  and  all  the  assembly  with  him.  "The  diet 
will  meet  to-morrow  morning  to  hear  the  emperor's 
decision,"  said  the  chancellor  with  a  loud  voice. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

ViL-tory— Tumult  and  Oalm— Dulte  Brick's  Glass  of  Beer— Tho  Elector  and 

.Spalatiu Message  from  the  Emperor — Wish  to  Violato  the  Safe-con- 

■  luct— Strong  Oprosition— Enthusiasm  for  Lvither— Voice  for  Concili- 
atiim — Tfic  Elector's  Fear — Assemblage  at  Luther's  Lodging— Philip 

It  was  night,  and  each  regained  his  dwelling  in  the 
dark.  Two  imperial  officers  were  ordered  to  accom- 
pany Luther.     Some  persons  imagining  that  his  fate 


DUKE  ERIC'S  FLAGON  OF  BEER. 


205 


was  (lociiiod,  and  tliat  thoy  were  conducting  him  to 
])iis()ii,  wliicli  he  should  leave  only  for  the  scaffold,  an 
iiiiiiK'Msc  tiiiiudt  arose.  Several  n;cntlemou  exclaimed: 
•■Aio  they  taking  him  to  prison?" — "No,"  replied 
Luther,  '-they  are  accompanying  mo  to  my  liotel." 
At  these  words  the  tumult  calmed.  Then  some 
.Si)aniards  of  the  emperor's  household,  following  this 
bold  champion,  hissed  and  jeered  at  him  as  ho  ])!\ssed 
along  the  streets,  wliilc  othcra  iiowled  like  wild  be.usts 
depri\ed  of  their  prey.  Luther  remained  firm  and 
peaceful. 

Such  was  the  scene  at  Worms.  The  intrepid  monk, 
who  had  liitherto  hurled  defiance  at  his  euoniios,  spake, 
when  in  tlie  presence  of  those  who  had  thirsted  for  his 
bliiod,  with  calnmess,  dignity,  and  humility.  There 
was  no  exaggeration,  no  human  enthusiasm,  uo  anger ; 
he  was  pi'acct'ul  amid  the  strongest  excitement ;  modest, 
while  resisting  the  powers  of  the  earth;  great,  in  pre- 
sence of  all  the  princes  of  the  world.  In  this  we  have 
an  irrefragable  |iiiiiif  that  Liitiier  was  then  obeying 
God, — not  folldwiiig  the  sii;;i;c,-;tions  of  his  own  pride. 
In  tiio  hall  of  Woinis  tiKic  wiis  One  greater  than 
Luther  and  Charles.  Jesus  Christ  has  said:  W/ien 
t/ii'i/  (Iflirer  you  up,  take  no  thought  how  or  ivhat  i/ou  shall 
spea/:.  For  it  is  not  ye  that  speak.  Never,  perhaps, 
was  this  promise  so  manifestly  fiillillod. 

A  deep  impression  had  l^in  iw.nlihid  on  the  heads 
of  the  empire.  Luther  Iiii'I  nlisri\.,l  this,  and  it  had 
increased  his  courage.  The  suivaiits  uf  the  pope  were 
angi y  at  John  Eck  for  not  having  oftener  interrupted 
tli<>  guilty  monk.  Several  princes  and  nobles  were 
gained  to  a  cause  which  was  maintained  with  such 
eoiivietion.  In  some,  it  is  true,  the  impression  was 
evanescent ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  several  who  till 
then  had  concealed  their  sentiments,  henceforth  dis- 
played great  courage. 

Luther  had  returned  to  his  hotel,  and  was  reposing 
from  the  fatigue  of  the  severe  service  in  which  he  had 
been  engaged.  Spahitiii  and  <ither  friends  were  around 
him,  and  all  were  '/wiwj:  thanks  to  God.  While  they 
were  conversing,  a  \ ak-t  eniried,  bearing  a  silver  vase 
fidl  of  Eiinlieck  beer.  "  My  master,"  said  he,  present- 
ing it  to  Luther,  "  begs  you  to  refresh  yourself  with 
this  draught  of  beer."  "  What  prince  is  it,"  asked 
Luther,  "  who  so  graciously  remembers  me?"  It  was 
old  Duke  Erick  of  Briuiswick.  The  reformer  wiis 
touched  by  the  offering  thus  made  him  by  so  powerful 
a  prince  ;  one,  ton,  belonging  to  the  pajial  party.  "  His 
highness,"  continued   Ihr   \alr|.  ••  w:'.^   plia-rd   to  taste 

thirsty,  poured  out  the  duke's  beer,  and  after  drinking 
it,  said :  "  As  Duke  Erick  has  this  day  remembered 
me,  so  may  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  remember  him  in  the 
day  of  his  final  combat."  The  present  was  in  itself  of 
little  value  ;  but  Luther,  wishing  to  shew  his  gratitude 
to  a  prince  who  had  thought  of  him  at  such  a  moment, 
gave  him  what  he  had — a  prayer.  The  valet  returned 
with  the  message  to  his  master.  The  old  duke,  in  his 
last  moments,  remembered  the  words,  and  addressing  a 
young  pjige,  Francis  de  Kraram,  who  was  standing  at 
his  bedside,  said  to  him  :  "  Take  the  Gospel  and  read 
it  to  me."  The  child  read  the  words  of  Ciirist,  and 
the  soul  of  the  dying  man  was  refreshed.  Whosoever, 
says  the  Saviour,  shall  give  to  onejof  you  a  cup  of  cold 


h'yrijile,   verily  I 
:  ,r,,rd. 


water  in  my  name,  because  you  o 
say  viUo  you,  he  shall  in  no  wis,'  I 

The  valet  of  the  Duke  of  J!niii-\virk  \vas  no  sooner 
gone  than  a  message  from  the  l%lett<.r  of  Saxony  or- 
dered Spalatin  to  come  to  him  instantly.  Frederick 
had  come  to  the  diet  full  of  disquietude.  lie  thought 
that,  in  presence  of  the  emperor,  Luther's  coin-ago 
might  give  way;  and  he  had,  accordingly,  been  deeply 
mo\cd  by  the  reformer's  firmness.  He  was  proud  of 
having  taken  such  a  man  under  his  protection.  AVhen 
the  chaplain  arrived,  the  table  was  covered,  and  the 
elec^tor  was  going  to  sit  down  to  supper  with  his  coiu't 
— the  valets  having  already  brouglit  in  the  vase  for 
washing  the  hands.  The  elector  seeing  Spalatin  enter, 
immediately  beckoned  him  to  follow,  and  when  alone 
with  him  in  his  bedchamber,  said  to  him,  with  deep 
emotion :  "  Oh  !  how  well  Father  Ltither  spoke  before 
the  emperor  and  all  the  states  of  the  empire  !  My  only 
fear  was,  that  he  would  be  too  bold."  Frederick  then 
formed  a  resolution  to  protect  the  doctor  in  future  with 
greater  courage. 

Alcauder  saw  the  impression  which  Luther  had  pro- 
duced.  There  was  no  time,  therefore,  to  be  lost.  The 
young  emperor  must  be  induced  to  act  vigorously.  The 
moment  was  favourable,  for  there  was  immediate  pros- 
pect of  war  with  France.  Leo  X.,  wishing  to  enlarge 
his  states,  and  caring  little  for  the  peace  of  Christen- 
dom, caused  tuo  treaties  to  be  secretly  negotiated  at 
the  same  time, — the  one  with  Charles  against  Francis, 
and  the  other  with  Francis  against  Charles.  By  the 
former  he  stipulated  with  the  emperor  for  Parma, 
Placenza,  and  Ferrara;  by  the  latter,  he  stipulated 
with  the  king  for  a  part  of  the  kingdom  of  Naples,  of 
which  Charles  was  thus  to  be  deprived.  Charles  felt 
the  importance  of  gaining  over  Leo,  in  order  that  he 
might  have  him  as  an  ally  against  his  rival  of  France. 
Luther  was  an  easy  price  to  pay  for  the  friendship  of 
the  mighty  pontiff. 

The  day  after  Luther's  appearance  he  caused  a  mes- 
sage to  be  read  to  the  diet,  which  he  had  written  in 
French,  with  his  own  hand.  "  Sprung,"  said  he,  "  from 
the  Christian  empergrs  of  Germany,  from  the  Catholic 
kings  of  Spain,  the  archdukes  of  Austria,  and  the  dukes 
of  Burgundy,  who  are  all  illustrious  as  defenders  of 
the  Roman  faith,  it  is  my  firm  purpose  to  follow  the 
example  of  my  ancestors.  A  single  monk,  led  astray 
by  his  own  folly,  sets  himself  up  in  opposition  to  the 
faith  of  Christendom.  I  will  sacrifice  my  dominions, 
my  power,  my  friends,  my  treasure,  my  body,  my 
blood,  ray  mind,  and  my  life,  to  stay  this  impiety.  I 
mean  to  send  back  the  Augustine,  Luther,  forbidding 
him  to  cause  the  least  tumult  among  the  people ;  there- 
after, I  will  proceed  against  him  and  his  adherents  as 
against  declared  heretics,  by  excommunication  and  in- 
terdict, and  all  means  proper  for  their  destruction.  I 
call  upon  the  members  of  the  states  to  conduct  them- 
selves like  faithful  Christians." 

This  address  did  not  please  everybody.  Charles, 
young  and  impassioned,  had  not  observed  the  ordinary 
forms ;  he  ought  previously  to  have  asked  the  opinion 
of  the  diet.  Two  extreme  views  were  immediately 
declared.  The  creatures  of  the  pope,  the  Elector  of 
Brandenburg,  and  several  ecclesiastical  princes,  de- 
manded that  no  regard  should  be  paid  to  the  safe-con- 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


duct  which  had  been  given  to  Luther.  "  The  Rhine," 
paid  they,  "  must  receive  his  ashes,  as  a  century  ago  it 
received  the  ashes  of  John  Huss."  Charles,  if  we  may 
believe  a  historian,  afterwards  bitterly  repented  that  he 
had  not  followed  this  dastardly  counsel.  "  I  confess," 
said  he,  towards  the  close  of  his  life,  "  that  I  committed 
a  great  fault  in  allowing  Luther  to  live.  That  heretic 
having  offended  a  greater  Master  than  I,  even  God 
himself,  I  was  not  obliged  to  keep  my  promise  to  him. 
I  might,  nay,  I  ought  to  have  forgotten  my  word,  and 
avenged  the  insult  which  he  offered  to  God ;  because  I 
did  not  put  him  to  death,  the  heresy  has  not  ceased  to 
gain  strength.  His  death  would  have  strangled  it  in 
the  cradle."' 

This  horrible  proposition  filled  the  elector  and  all 
Luther's  friends  with  terror.  "The  execution  of  John 
Huss,"  said  the  elector-palatine,  "  brought  too  many 
calamities  on  Germany,  to  allow  such  a  scaifold  to  be 
erected  a  second  time."  "  The  princes  of  Germany," 
exclaimed  George  of  Saxony,  himself  the  irreconcilable 
enemy  of  Luther,  "  will  not  allow  a  safe-conduct  to  be 
violated.  This  first  diet,  held  by  our  new  emperor, 
will  not  incur  the  guilt  of  an  act  so  disgraceful.  Such 
perfidy  accords  not  with  old  German  integrity."  The 
princes  of  Bavaria,  also  devoted  to  the  Church  of 
Rome,  joined  in  this  protestation.  The  death  scene 
which  Luther's  friends  liad  akeady  before  their  eyes 
appeared  to  be  withdrawn. 

The  rumour  of  these  debates,  which  lasted  for  two 
days,  spread  over  the  town.  Parties  grew  warm. 
Some  gentlemen,  partisans  of  reform,  began  to  speak 
strongly  against  the  treachery  demanded  by  Aleander. 
"The  emperor,"  said  they,  '-is  a  young  man  whom  the 
papists  and  bishops  lead  at  pleasure  by  their  flattery." 
Pallavicini  makes  mention  of  four  hundred  nobles  who 
were  ready  to  maintain  Luther's  safe-conduct  with  the 
sword.  On  Saturday  morning  placards  were  found 
posted  up  on  the  houses  and  public  places,  some  against 
Luther,  and  others  in  his  favour.  One  of  them  merely 
contained  the  energetic  words  of  Ecclesiastes :  Woe 
to  tliec,  0  land,  when  tlnj  king  is  a  child  !  Seckingen,  it 
was  said,  had  assembled,  at  some  leagues  from  Worms, 
behiud  the  impregnable  ramparts  of  his  fortress,  a  large 
body  of  knights  and  soldiers,  and  only  waited  the  issue 
of  the  affair  that  he  might  kuow  how  to  act.  The 
popular  enthusiasm,  not  only  in  Worms,  but  also  in  the 
most  distant  towns  of  the  empire,  the  intrepidity  of  the 
knights,  the  attachment  of  several  princes  to  the  re- 
former, all  must  have  made  Charles  and  the  diet  com- 
prehend that  the  step  demanded  by  the  Romans  might 
compromise  the  supreme  authority,  excite  revolts,  and 
even  shake  the  empire.  It  was  only  a  simple  monk 
that  they  proposed  to  burn  ;  but  the  princes  and  parti- 
sans of  Rome,  taken  all  together,  had  neither  power 
nor  courage  enough  to  do  it.  Doubtless,  also,  Charles 
v.,  their  young  emperor,  had  still  a  fear  of  perjury. 
This  would  seem  indicated  by  an  expression  which,  if 
some  historians  speak  true,  he  uttered  on  this  occasion  : 
"  Were  fidelity  and  good  faith  banished  from  the  whole 

1  Acconling  to  Llorente,  the  idea  that  Charles,  toward  the  close  of  his 
life,  inclined  to  evangelical  opinions,  is  a  mere  invention  of  Protestants  and 
the  enemies  of  Philip  II.  This  question  forms  a  historical  problem,  which 
the  numerous  quotations  of  Llorente  apppcar  unhappily  to  solve  in  con- 
formity to  his  view. 


world,  they  ought  to  find  an  asylum  in  the  hearts  of 
princes."  It  is  said  he  forgot  this  when  on  the  brink 
of  the  grave.  But  there  were  other  motives  which 
might  have  had  their  influence  on  the  emperor.  The 
Florentine  Vettori,  a  friend  of  Leo  X.  and  of  Machia- 
velli,  affirms,  that  Charles  spared  Luther  only  that  he 
might  keep  the  pope  in  check. 

On  the  Saturday's  sitting,  the  violent  counsels  of 
Aleander  were  negatived.  There  was  a  feeling  in 
favour  of  Luther,  and  a  wish  to  save  the  simple-hearted 
man  whose  confidence  in  God  was  so  affecting;  but 
there  was  a  wish  also  to  save  the  Church.  The  diet 
shuddered  equally  at  the  consequences  which  would 
result  from  the  triumph  and  from  the  destruction 
of  the  reformer.  Proposals  of  conciliation  were  heard, 
and  it  was  suggested  that  a  new  attempt  should  be 
made  with  the  doctor  of  Wittemberg.  The  Arch- 
bishop-elector of  Mentz  himself,  the  young  and  extra- 
vagant Albert,  more  devout  than  courageous,  says 
Pallavicini,  had  taken  alarm  on  seeing  the  interest 
which  the  people  and  the  nobility  shewed  in  the  Saxou 
monk.  His  chaplain,  Capito,  who,  during  his  residence 
at  Bi'dc,  had  been  intimate  with  the  evangelical  priest 
of  Zurich,  named  Zwingle, — the  intrepid  defender  of 
the  truth,  of  whom  we  have  already  had  occasion  to 
speak, — ^liad  also,  doubtless,  represented  to  Albert  the 
righteousness  of  the  reformer's  cause.  The  worldly 
archbishop  had  one  of  those  returns  to  Christiau  senti- 
ment which  his  life  occasionally  exhibits,  and  agreed  to 
go  to  the  emperor  and  ask  him  to  allow  one  last  at- 
tempt. But  Charles  flatly  refused.  On  Monday,  22d 
April,  the  princes  met  in  a  body  to  renew  the  solicita- 
tions of  Albert.  "I  will  not  depart  from  what  I  have 
decreed,"  replied  the  oni|joror.  "  I  will  not  commission 
any  person  to  go  oflicially  tn  Luther."  "But,"  added 
he,  to  the  great  scandal  nt  Alciuder,  "I  give  this  man 
three  days  to  reflect ;  during'  this  time  any  one  may,  as 
an  individual,  give  him  suitable  advice."  This  was  all 
that  was  asked.  The  reformer,  thought  they,  elevated 
by  the  solemnity  of  his  public  appearance,  will  yield  in 
a  more  friendly  conference ;  and,  perhaps,  be  saved 
from  the  abyss  into  which  ho  is  ready  to  fall. 

The  Elector  of  Saxony  kuew  the  contrary;  accord- 
ingly, he  was  in  great  fear.  "  If  it  were  in  my  power," 
wrote  he  next  day  to  his  brother,  Duke  John,  "  I  would 
be  ready  to  support  Luther.  You  could  not  believe  to 
what  a  degree  I  am  attacked  by  the  partisans  of  Rome. 
If  I  could  tell  you  all,  you  would  hear  very  strange 
tilings.  They  are  bent  on  his  ruin,  and  however  slight 
interest  any  one  shews  for  his  person,  he  is  immediately 
decried  as  a  heretic.  May  God,  who  forsakes  not  the 
righteous  cause,  bring  all  to  a  good  end!"  Frederick, 
without  shewing  the  strong  affection  which  he  felt  for 
the  reformer,  contented  himself  with  not  losing  sight  of 
any  of  his  movements. 

It  was  not  so  with  men  of  all  ranks  then  in  Worms. 
Many  fearlessly  gave  full  vent  to  their  sympathy.  From 
the  Friday,  a  crowd  of  princes,  counts,  barons,  knights, 
gentlemen,  ecclesiastics,  laics,  and  common  people,  sur- 
rounded the  hotel  where  the  reformer  lodged, — they 
came  in  and  went  out,  and  could  not  see  enough  of  him. 
Ho  was  become  the  man  iu  Germany.  Even  those  who 
doubted  not  that  he  was  in  error,  were  touched  by  the 
nobleness  of  soul  which  had  led  him  to  sacrifice  his  life 


CONFERENCE  WITH  THE  ARCHBISHOP  OF  TREVES. 


207 


at  the  biikling  of  liis  coascience.  With  several  of  the 
personages  present  at  Worms,  and  forming  the  flower 
of  tlie  na(ion,  LuDier  had  occasionally  conversations 
full  of  that  salt  with  which  his  sayings  were  always 
sejusoned.  None  left  liim  witliout  feeling  animated 
with  a  generous  entliusiasm  for  the  trutli.  George 
Vogler,  the  ])ri\atc  secretary  of  tlic  Margrave  Casimir 
of  Brandenburg,  writing  to  a  friend,  says:  "AVhat 
things  I  should  have  to  tell  you  !  What  conversations, 
full  of  piety  and  kindness,  Luther  has  had  with  myself 
and  otiiers  !     IIow  winning  that  man  is !" 

One  day  a  young  prince  of  seventeen  came  prancing 
into  the  court  of  the  hotel, — it  wiis  Philip,  who  liad 
been  reigning  for  two  years  in  Hesse.  Tiie  young 
landgrave  was  of  an  active  and  enterprising  character, 
of  a  wisdom  beyond  his  j-ears,  a  martial  spirit,  and  an 
impetuous  temper,  seldom  allowing  himself  to  be  guided 
by  any  ideas  but  his  own.  Struck  with  Luther's  ad- 
dresses, he  wislicd  to  have  a  nearer  view  of  him.  "  As 
yet,  however,"  says  Luther,  in  relating  his  visit,  "he 
was  not  for  me."  He  dismounted,  and  without  any 
other  formality,  came  up  into  the  reformer's  room,  and 
addressing  him,  said ;  "  Well,  dear  doctor,  how  goes 
it?" — "Gracious  lord,"  replied  Luther,  "I  hope  it  will 
go  well."  '•  From  what  I  learn,"  resumed  the  land- 
grave, laughing,  "you  teach,  doctor,  that  a  wife  may 
cpiit  her  luisband,  and  take  another,  when  the  former 
is  found  to  be  too  old  ! "  The  people  of  the  imperial 
court  had  told  this  story  to  the  landgrave.  The 
enemies  of  the  trutli  never  fail  to  circulate  fabulous 
accounts  of  the  lessons  of  Christian  teachers.  "No, 
my  lord,"  replied  Luther  gi-avely,  "  let  your  highness 
not  speak  so,  if  you  please."  Thereupon,  the  prince 
briskly  held  out  his  iiand  to  the  doctor,  shook  his  cor- 
dially, and  said  :  "  Dear  doctor,  if  3-ou  are  in  the  right, 
may  God  assist  you."  On  this  he  left  tlie  room,  again 
mounted  his  horse,  and  rode  off.  This  was  the  firet  in- 
terview between  these  two  men,  who  were  afterwards 
to  stand  at  tlie  iiead  of  tlie  Reformation,  and  to  defend 
it, — the  one  with  the  sword  of  the  Word,  and  the  other 
■witli  the  sword  of  kings. 

It  was  the  Archbishop  of  Treves,  Richard  de  Greif- 
cnklau,  who,  ivith  permission  of  Charles  V.,  had  under- 
taken the  office  of  mediator.  Richard,  who  was  on  an 
intimate  footing  with  the  Elector  of  Saxony,  and  a 
good  Roman  Catholic,  was  desirous  to  arrange  this  dif- 
Jicidt  affair,  and  thereby  at  once  do  a  service  to  his 
friend  and  to  the  Church.  On  Monday  evening,  22d 
April,  just  as  Luther  was  going  to  sit  down  to  table, 
a  messenger  of  the  archbishop  came  to  say,  that  the 
prelate  wished  to  see  him  the  day  after  to-morrow, 
(Wednesday,)  at  six  o'clock  in  the  morning. 


CHAPTER  X. 

Conference  with  the  Arcliliisliop  of  Treves— Welic's  .ndvice  to  Lnther— 
Luther's  Rcplies-Priv.ito  Conversation  -Visit  of  Coehteus— Supper  at 
the  Archbishop's -Attempt  on  the  Hotel  of  Rhodes— A  Council  Pro- 
poscd-Last  Interview  between  Luther  and  the  Arehbishoi)— Visit  to  a 
Sick  Friend— Luther  Ordered  to  quit  Worms. 

That  day  the  chaplain  and  the  imperial  herald,  Sturm, 
were  both  at  Luther's  before  six  o'clock  in  the  morn- 


ing. Aleander  had  caused  Cochlocus  to  be  called  at 
four.  The  nuncio  had  not  been  slow  in  discovering  in 
the  man  who  had  been  presented  to  him  by  Capito,  a 
devoted  servant  of  Rome,  on  whom  he  could  calculate 
as  on  himself.  Not  being  able  to  be  present  at  this 
interview,  Aleander  wished  to  have  a  substitute  at  it. 
"  Be  present  at  the  Ai'chbishop  of  Treves,"  said  he  to 
the  Dean  of  Frankfort.  "  Do  not  enter  into  discussion 
with  Luther;  but  content  yourself  with  paying  the 
closest  attention  to  everything  that  is  said,  so  as  to  be 
able  to  bring  me  back  a  faithful  report.  The  re- 
former, on  arriving  with  some  friends  at  the  house  of 
the  archbishop,  foimd  him  surrounded  by  the  margi'avc, 
Joachim  of  Brandenburg  and  Augsburg,  several  nobles, 
deputies  from  free  towns,  lawyers,  and  theologians, — 
among  whom  were  Cochloeus  and  Jerome  Wehe,  chan- 
cellor of  Baden.  The  latter,  an  able  lawyer,  wished  a 
reformation  in  manners  and  discipline.  He  went  even 
further.  "  The  AVord  of  God,"  said  he,  "  which  hits  so 
long  been  hid  under  the  bushel,  must  reappear  in  all 
its  lustre."  This  conciliatory  individual  was  entrusted 
with  the  conference.  Turning  kindly  towards  Luther, 
he  said  to  him :  '•  We  did  not  make  you  come  in  order 
to  dispute  with  you,  but  in  order  to  give  you  brotherly 
advice.  You  know  how  carefully  the  Scripture  re- 
quireth  us  to  guard  against  the  flying  arrow,  and  the 
devil  that  walketh  at  noon-day.  Tliis  enemy  of  the 
human  race  has  instigated  you  to  publish  things  con- 
trary to  religion.  Think  of  your  own  safety,  and  that 
of  the  empire.  Take  care  that  those  whom  Jesus 
Christ  has  ransomed,  by  His  own  death,  from  death 
eternal,  be  not  seduced  by  you,  and  perish  for  ever. 
.  .  .  Do  not  set  yourself  up  against  holy  councils. 
If  we  do  not  maintain  the  decrees  of  our  fathers,  there 
will  be  nothing  but  confusion  in  the  Church.  The  dis- 
tinguished princes  now  listening  to  mc  take  a  particidar 
interest  in  your  safety.  But  if  you  persist,  the  emperor 
will  banish  you  from  the  empire,  and  no  place  in  the 
world  will  be  able  to  offer  you  an  asylum.  .  .  . 
Reflect  on  the  fate  which  awaits  you." 

"Most  serene  princes!"  replied  Luther,  "I  give 
you  thanks  for  your  solicitude,  for  I  am  only  a  poor 
man,  and  am  too  humble  to  be  exhorted  by  such  high 
lords."  Then  he  continued:  "I  have  not  blamed  all 
the  councils,  but  only  that  of  Constance ;  because,  in 
condemning  this  doctrine  of  John  Huss, — viz.,  that  the 
Christian  Church  is  the  assenib/i/  of  those  tcho  are  ^werffs- 
tinated  to  salvation, — it  condemned  this  article  of  our 
creed,  /  believe  in  the  hob/  Catholic  Church;  and  the 
AVord  of  God  itself.  My  lessons,  it  is  said,  give 
offence,"  added  he.  "  I  answer,  that  the  Gospel  of 
Christ  cannot  be  preached  without  offence.  How,  then, 
should  this  fear  or  apprehension  of  danger  detach  me 
from  the  Lord,  and  from  this  Divine  Word,  which  is 
the  only  truth  ?  No,  rather  give  my  body,  my  blood, 
and  my  life!"     .     .     . 

The  princes  and  doctors  having  deliberated,  Luther 
was  recalled,  and  Wehe  mildly  resumed :  "  It  is  neces- 
sary to  honour  princes,  e\eu  when  they  are  mistaken, 
and  to  make  great  sacrifices  to  charity."  Then  he  said, 
in  a  more  urgent  tone  :  "  Cast  yourself  upon  the  judg- 
ment of  the  emperor,  and  have  no  fear." 

Luther. — "I  consent,  with  all  my  heart,  that  the 
emperor,  the  princes,  and  even  the  humblest  Christian, 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


shall  examine  and  judge  my  books ;  but  on  one  con- 
dition, and  it  is,  that  they  take  the  AVord  of  God  for 
their  standard.  Men  have  nothing  else  to  do  but  to 
obey.  My  conscience  is  dependent  upon  it,  and  I  am 
captive  under  its  authority." 

The  Elector  of  Brandenharg. — "I  understand  you 
perfectly,  doctor.  You  will  not  acknowledge  any 
judge  but  the  Holy  Scripture?" 

Luther. — "  Yes,  my  lord,  exactly.  That  is  my  last 
word." 


Then  the  i)riiices  and  doctors  withdrew;  but  the 
worthy  Archbishop  of  Treves  could  not  resolve  to 
abandon  his  undertaking.  "  Come,"  said  he  to  Luther, 
as  he  jiassed  into  his  private  room,  and,  at  the  same 
timt',  ordered  John  Eck  and  Cochloeus,  on  the  one  side, 
and  Schurff  and  Amsdorft'  on  the  other,  to  foUowthem. 
"Wliy  appeal  incessantly  to  the  Holy  Scriptures?" 
said  Eck  keenly;  "out  of  it  all  heresies  have  sprung." 
But  Luther,  says  his  friend  Mathesius,  remained  im- 
moveable, like  a  rock  resting  on  the  true  rock., — the 
Word  of  the  Lord.  "  The  pope,"  replied  he,  "  is  no 
judge  in  things  pertaining  to  the  Word  of  God.  Every 
Christian  must  see  and  understand  for  himself  how  he 
ought  to  live  and  die."  The  parties  separated.  The 
partisans  of  the  papacy  felt  Luther's  superiority,  and 
attributed  it  to  there  being  nobody  present  who  could 
answer  him.  "  If  the  emperor,"  says  Cochloeus,  "  had 
acted  wisely  in  calling  Luther  to  Worms,  he  would 
also  have  called  theologians  who  might  have  refuted 
his  errors." 

The  Archbishop  of  Treves  repaired  to  the  diet,  and 
announced  the  ill  success  of  his  mediation.  The  sur- 
prise of  the  young  emperor  equalled  his  indignation. 
•'  It  is  time,"  said  he,  "  to  put  an  end  to  this  affair." 
The  archbishop  asked  two  days  more,  and  the  whole 
diet  seconded  him.  Charles  V.  yielded.  Aleander, 
transported  with  rage,  uttered  the  bitterest  invectives. 


While  these  things  were  passing  at  the  diet,  Cochloeus 
was  burning  with  eagerness  to  gain  a  victory  denied  to 
prelates  and  kings.  Though  he  had,  from  time  to 
time,  thrown  in  a  few  words  at  the  archbishops,  the 
order  which  he  had  received  from  Aleander  had  laid 
him  under  restraint.  He  resolved  to  compensate  him- 
self, and  had  no  sooner  given  an  account  of  his  mission 
to  the  papal  nuncio,  than  he  presented  himself  at 
Luther's  lodging.  He  accosted  him  as  a  friend,  and 
expressed  the  grief  which  he  felt  at  the  emperor's  reso- 
lution. After  dinner,  the  conversation  grew  animated. 
Cochloeus  pressed  Luther  to  retract.  He  declined  by  a 
nod.  Several  nobles,  who  were  at  table,  had  difficulty 
in  restraining  themselves.  They  were  indignant  that 
the  partisans  of  Rome  should  wish  not  to  convince  tlie 
reformer  by  Scripture,  but  constrain  him  by  force. 
Cochloeus,  impatient  under  these  reproaches,  says  to 
Luther :  ''  Very  well,  I  offer  to  dispute  publicly  with 
you,  if  you  renounce  the  safe-conduct."  All  that 
Luther  demanded  was  a  public  debate.  What  ought 
he  to  do  ?  '.'"o  renounce  the  safe-conduct  was  to  be  his 
own  destroyer;  to  refuse  the  challenge  of  Cochloeus, 
was  to  appear  doubtful  of  his  cause.  The  guests  re- 
garded the  offer  as  a  perfidious  scheme  of  Aleander, 
whom  the  Dean  of  Frankfort  had  just  left.  Vollrat 
of  Watzdorff,  one  of  the  niunber,  freed  Luther  from 
the  embarrassment  of  this  puzzling  alternative.  This 
baron,  who  was  of  a  boiling  temperament,  indignant  at 
a  snare  which  aimed  at  nothing  less  than  to  give  up 
Luther  into  the  hands  of  the  executioner,  started  up, 
seized  the  terrified  priest,  and  pushed  him  to  the  door. 
There  would  even  have  been  bloodshed,  had  not  the 
other  guests  risen  up  from  the  table,  and  interposed 
their  mediation  between  the  furious  baron  and  the 
trembling  Cochloeus,  who  withdrew,  in  confusion,  from 
the  hotel  of  the  Knights  of  Rhodes. 

The  expression  had  no  doubt  escaped  the  dean  in  the 
heat  of  discussion,  and  was  not  a  premeditated  scheme 
between  him  and  Aleander  to  make  Luther  fall  into  a 
perfidious  snare.  Cochloeus  denies  that  it  was,  and  we 
have  pleasure  in  giving  credit  to  his  testimony,  though 
it  is  true  he  had  come  to  Luther's  from  a  conference 
with  the  nuncio. 

In  the  evening,  the  Archbishop  of  Treves  entertained 
those  who  had  been  present  at  the  morning  conference. 
He  thought  it  might  be  a  mean«  of  calming  down  their 
minds,  and  bringing  them  nearer  each  other.  Luther, 
who  was  so  intrepid  and  immoveable  before  arbiters  or 
judges,  had,  in  pi-ivate  society,  a  good  humour  and 
gaiety,  which  seemed  to  promise  anything  that  might 
be  asked  of  him.  The  archbishoji's  chancellor,  who 
had  shewn  so  much  sternness  in  his  official  capacity, 
joined  in  the  attempt,  and,  towards  the  end  of  the 
repast,  drank  Luther's  health.  He  was  preparing  to 
return  the  honour, — the  wine  was  poured  out,  and  he 
was,  according  to  his  custom,  making  the  sign  of  the 
cross  on  his  glass,  when  suddenly  the  glass  burst  in  his 
hands,  and  the  wine  was  spilt  upon  the  table.  The 
guests  were  in  consternation.  "There  must  be  poison 
in  it," '  said  some  of  Luther's  friends,  quite  loud.    But 

1  Luther  does  not  mention  the  circumstance ;  but  Razeburg,  a  friend  of 
Lutlier,  and  physician  to  the  Elector  Joliu  Frederick,  relates  it  in  a  manu- 
script history  whiclx  is  extant  in  the  library  of  Gotha,  and  says  he  had  it 
from  an  eye-witness. 


-^ 


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Wofefti^. 


0m' 


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1^      -'V 


CONFERENCE  AT  THE  HOTEL. 


the  doctor,  without  being  moved,  replied  with  a  smile: 
"Dear  friends,  cither  this  wine  was  not  destined  for 
me,  or  it  would  have  been  hurtful  to  mo."  Then  he 
calmly  added  :  "  Tlie  ghiss  burst,  no  doubt,  because,  in 
washing,  it  had  been  too  soon  jdungcd  in  cold  water." 
These  simjde  words,  in  the  circumstances  in  which  tliny 
were  uttered,  have  some  degree  of  grandeur,  and  be- 
speak un.-dtorablc  peace.  We  cannot  suppose  that  the 
Konian  Catholics  could  have  wished  to  poison  Luther, 
especially  at  the  house  of  tiie  Archbishop  of  Treves. 
This  repast  neither  estranged  nor  approximated  the 
parties.  The  reformei-'s  restdution  came  from  a  higher 
source,  and  could  not  be  influenced  either  by  the  hatred 
or  the  favour  of  men. 

On  Tliursday  morning,  (25th  April,)  Chancellor 
Wciie  and  Doctor  Tcutinger  of  Augsburg,  imperial 
councillor,  who  had  shewn  great  affection  for  Luther 
ever  since  his  interview  with  Dc  Vio,  repaired  to  the 
hotel  of  the  Knights  of  Rhodes.  The  Elector  of  Sax- 
ony sent  Frederick  De  Thun  and  another  of  his  coun- 
cillors to  be  present  at  the  conference.  "  Put  youi-self 
in  our  hands,"  earnestly  said  AVehe  and  Peutinger,  who 
would  willingly  have  sacrificed  everything  to  prevent 
the  division  which  was  about  to  rend  the  Church. 
"This  affair  will  be  terminated  in  a  Christian  manner; 
we  give  you  our  word  for  it." — "  In  two  words,"  said 
Luther  to  them,  "  here  is  my  answer :  I  renounce  the 
safe-conduct.  I  place  in  the  hands  of  the  emperor  my 
person  and  my  life ;  but  the  Word  of  God,  .  .  . 
never ! "  Frederick  Do  Thun,  affected,  rose  and  said 
to  the  deputies  :  "  Is  it  not  enough  .'  Is  not  the  sacri- 
fice great  enough  V'  Then  declaring  that  he  would  hear 
notliing  more,  he  took  his  leave.  "Wehe  and  Peutinger, 
hoping  to  have  better  success  with  tho  doctor,  came 
and  sat  down  on  each  side  of  him.  "Throw  yourself 
upon  the  diet,"  said  they  to  him. — "No,"  replied 
LiUher,  "for  cursed  be  the  man  that  inisteth  in  man," 
(Jeremiah  xvii.  5.)  "Wehe  and  Peutinger  redoubled 
tiieir  counsels  and  attacks,  pressing  more  closely  on  the 
reformer.  Luther,  worn  out,  rose  up  and  put  an  end 
to  the  interview,  saying :  "  I  will  not  allow  any  man 
to  set  himself  above  the  Word  of  God." — "  Reflect 
once  more,"  said  they  to  him  on  retiring;  "we  will 
return  after  mid-day." 

They,  in  fact,  did  return;  but  convinced  that  Luther 
would  not  yield,  they  brought  a  new  proposal.  Luther 
had  refused  to  be  judged  first  by  the  pope,  then  by  the 
emperor,  then  by  the  diet.  There  remained  one  judge 
to  whom  he  himself  had  once  appealed — a  general 
council.  No  doubt  such  a  proposal  would  have  been 
scouted  by  Rome ;  but  it  was  the  last  plank  for  escape. 
The  delegates  offered  Luther  a  coimcil ;  and  he  had  it 
in  his  power  to  accept  it  unfettered  by  any  precise  de- 
finition. Yeai-s  might  have  elapsed  before  the  difiicul- 
ties  which  the  calling  of  a  council  would  have  encoim- 
tered  on  the  part  of  the  pope  could  have  been  obviated. 
To  the  Reformation  and  the  reformer  a  gain  of  years 
would  have  gained  everything.  God  and  time  would 
then  have  done  the  rest.  But  Luther  preferred  the 
straight  course  to  every  other ;  he  would  not  save  him- 
self at  the  expense  of  truth,  though  all  that  might  have 
been  necessary  was  to  disguise  it  by  keeping  silence. 
"  I  consent,"  replied  he ;  "  but  (this  was  equiva- 
lent to  a  refusal  of  the  council)  on  condition  that 


tho  council  will  judge  only  according  to  the  Holy 
Scriptures." 

Peutinger  and  Wehe,  thinking  that  a  council  could 
not  judge  otherwise,  hastened,  overjoyed,  to  the  arch- 
bishop. "  Dr.  Martin,"  said  they,  "  submits  his  books 
to  a  council."  The  archbishop  was  going  to  caiTy  tho 
good  news  to  the  emperor,  when  some  dotd)t  occurring 
to  him,  he  sent  for  Luther. 

Richard  of  Grieffenklau  was  alone  when  the  doctor 
aiTived.  "  Dear  doctor,"  said  the  archbishop,  with 
much  cordiality  and  kindness,  "  my  doctors  assure  me 
that  you  consent,  without  reservation,  to  submit  your 
cause  to  a  council." — "My  lord,"  replied  Luther,  "I 
can  bear  everything,  but  cannot  abandon  the  Holy 
Scriptures."  The  archbishop  then  perceived  that  Weho 
and  Peutinger  had  not  explained  themselves  propei'ly. 
Never  could  Rome  consent  to  a  council  bound  to  decide 
according  to  Scripture.  "  It  was  just,"  says  Pallavicini, 
"  to  insist  that  a  weak  eye  should  read  very  small  writ- 
ing, and  at  the  same  time  deny  the  use  of  spectacles." 
The  good  archbishop  sighed.  "  It  was  well,"  said  he, 
"  I  made  you  come.  What  would  have  become  of  me 
had  I  immediately  gone  to  the  emperor  with  the  news?" 

Tho  immoveable  firmness,  the  stern  rectitude  of 
Luther,  are,  no  doubt,  astonishing ;  but  they  will  be 
comprehended  and  respected  by  all  who  know  the 
claims  of  God.  Seldom  has  a  nobler  homage  been 
paid  to  the  immutable  Word  of  heaven,  and  that  at  the 
risk  of  life  and  liberty  by  the  man  who  paid  it. 

"Well,"  said  the  venerable  prelate  to  Luther,  "do 
you  yourself  then  point  out  a  remedy." 

Luther,  (after  a  moment's  silence.) — "  My  lord,  I  know 
no  other  than  that  of  Gamaliel :  If  this  counsel  or  this 
ivork  be  of  men,  it  icill  come  to  nought;  but  if  it  be  ofGod^ 


FRAN  K  FORT. 


HISTORY  OP  THE  REFORMATION. 


ye  cannot  ovevtln-ow  it,  lest  Iiapli/  ye  be  found  even  to  fight 
against  God.  Let  the  emperor,  the  electors,  the  princes, 
aad  the  states  of  the  empu-e,  deliver  this  answer  to  the 
pope." 

Archbishop. — "At  least  retract  some  articles." 

Luther. — "  Provided  it  be  not  those  which  the  Coun- 
cil of  Constance  condemned." 

Archbishop. — "Ah!  I  fear  they  are  the  very  ones 
•which  will  be  asked." 

Luther. — "  Then,  sooner  sacrifice  my  body  and  my 
life, — better  allow  my  legs  and  arms  to  be  cut  off  than 
abandon  the  clear  and  genuine  Word  of  God." 

The  archbishop  at  length  understood  Luther.  "  You 
may  withdraw,"  said  he  to  him,  always  with  the  same 
gentleness.  "  Yom*  lordship,"  resumed  Luther,  "  will 
be  so  good  as  to  sec  that  his  majesty  cause  the  safe-con- 
duct necessary  for  my  return  to  be  expedited." — "I  will 
see  to  it,"  replied  the  good  archbishop,  and  they  parted. 

So  ended  these  negotiations.  The  whole  empire  had 
assailed  this  man  with  the  most  lu-geut  entreaties,  and 
the  most  fearful  menaces,  and  this  man  had  never 
flinched.  His  refusal  to  bend  under  the  iron  arm  of 
the  pope  emancipated  the  Church,  and  commenced  a 
new  era.  The  intervention  of  Providence  was  evident ; 
and  the  whole  presents  one  of  those  grand  historical 
scenes  in  which  the  majestic  form  of  the  Divinity 
appears  conspicuously  displayed. 

Luther  withdi-ew  in  company  with  Spalatin,  who 
1  had  arrived  at  the  archbishop's  during  the  course  of 
i  the  visit.  John  von  IVIinkwitz,  one  of  the  Elector  of 
i  Saxony's  councillors,  had  fallen  sick  at  "Worms.  The 
two  friends  repaired  to  his  lodging,  and  Luther  admin- 
istered the  tenderest  consolation  to  the  sick  man. 
"  Adieu  ! "  said  he  to  him,  on  leaving,  "  to-morrow  1 
shall  quit  Worms." 

Luther  was  not  mistaken.  He  had  not  been  three 
hours  returned  to  the  hotel  of  the  Knights  of  Rhodes 
when  Chancellor  Eck  and  the  chancellor  of  the  em- 
peror, with  a  notary,  made  their  appearance. 

The  chancellor  said  to  him:  "Martin  Luther,  his 
imperial  majesty,  the  electors,  princes,  and  states  of  the 
empire,  having  exhorted  you  to  submission  again  and 
again,  and  in  various  manners,  but  always  in  vain,  the 
emperor,  in  his  quality  of  advocate  and  defender  of  the 
Catholic  faith,  sees  himself  obliged  to  take  other  stops. 
He,  therefore,  orders  you  to  retm-n  to  your  home  in  the 
space  of  twenty-one  days ;  and  prohibits  you  from  dis- 
turbing the  public  peace  by  the  way,  either  by  preach- 
ing or  writing." 

Luther  was  well  aware  that  this  message  was  the 
first  step  in  his  condemnation.  "  It  has  happened  as 
Jehovah  pleased,"  said  he  meekly.  "Blessed  be  the 
name  of  Jehovah  ! "  Then  he  added :  "  Before  all 
things,  very  hiimbly  and  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart, 
I  thank  his  majesty,  the  electors,  princes,  and  other 
states  of  the  empire,  for  having  listened  to  me  with  so 
much  kindness.  I  have  desired,  and  do  desire  one 
thing  only — a  reformation  of  the  Church  agi'eeably  to 
Holy  Scripture.  I  am  ready  to  do  everything,  and 
suffer  everything,  in  humble  submission  to  the  will  of 
the  empei-or.  Life  and  death,  honour  and  disgrace, 
are  all  alike  to  me.  I  make  only  one  reservation — the 
preaching  of  the  Gospel ;  for,  says  St.  Paul,  the  Word 
of  God  cannot  be  bound."    The  deputies  withdrew. 


On  the  morning  of  Friday  (26th  April)  the  reformer's 
friends  and  several  nobles  met  at  his  lodgings.  They 
were  gratified  at  seeing  the  Christian  constancy  which 
he  had  opposed  to  Charles  and  the  empire,  and  to 
recognize  in  him  the  features  of  the  ancient  portrait : 


They  wished  once  more,  perhaps  for  ever,  to  bid 
adieu  to  this  intrepid  monk.  Luther  took  a  frugal 
meal.  Now  he  must  take  leave  of  his  friends,  and  flee 
far  from  them,  under  a  sky  surcharged  with  storms. 
He  wLshed  to  pass  this  solemn  moment  in  the  presence 
of  God.  He  lifted  up  his  soul  and  blessed  those  who 
were  around  him.  Ten  in  the  morning  having  struck, 
Luther  quitted  the  hotel  with  the  friends  who  had 
accompanied  him  to  Worms.  Twenty  gentlemen  on 
horseback  surrounded  bis  carriage.  A  great  crowd 
accompanied  him  beyond  the  walls.  The  imperial 
herald,  Sturm,  rejoined  him  some  time  after  at  Oppen- 
heim,  and  the  following  day  they  reached  Frankfort. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

Lullier's  Departnre— Journey  from  'Wonns— Luther  to  Cranach— I.utlier  to 
Cliailes  v.— Luther  with  the  Abbot  of  Hirschfekl  — The  Curate  of 
Eiseinch— Several  Princes  Leave  the  Diet — Cbaiies  Signs  Lutlier'a 
Cuiiilemuation— The  Edict  of  Worms— Lutlier  with  his  Pai-ents— Luther 
attacked  and  earned  uff-The  Ways  of  God— Wartburg— Lutlier  a 
Tiisoner. 

LuTiiER  having  thus  escaped  from  these  walls  of 
Worms,  wliich  threatened  to  become  his  tomb,  his 
whole  heart  gave  glory  to  God.  "  The  devil  himself," 
said  he,  "  guarded  the  citadel  of  the  pope.  But  Christ 
has  made  a  large  breach  in  it ;  and  Satan  has  been 
forced  to  confess  that  the  Lord  is  mightier  than  he." 

"The  day  of  the  diet  of  Worms,"  says  the  pious 
Mathesius,  the  disciple  and  friend  of  Luther,  "  is  one 
of  the  greatest  and  most  glorious  days  given  to  the 
world  before  its  final  close."  The  battle  fought  at 
AVorms  re-echoed  far  and  wide ;  and  while  the  sound 
travelled  over  Christendom, — from  the  regions  of  the 
North  to  the  mountains  of  Switzerland,  and  the  cities 
of  England,  France,  and  Italy, — many  ardently  took 
up  the  mighty  weapon  of  the  Word  of  God. 

Luther,  having  arrived  at  Frankfort  on  the  evening 
of  Saturday,  (27th  April,)  took  advantage  next  day  of 
a  moment  of  leisure — the  first  he  had  had  for  a  long 
time — to  write  a  note,  in  a  style  at  once  playful  and 
energetic,  to  his  friend,  Lucas  Cranach,  the  celebrated 
painter,  at  Wittemberg :  "  Yoiu-  servant,  dear  compeer 
Lucas,"  said  he  to  him,  "I  thought  his  majesty  would 
assemble  at  Worms  some  fifty  doctors  to  confute  the 
monk  off  hand.  But  not  at  all.  Are  these  books 
yours  ? — Yes.  Will  you  retract  them  ? — No.  Ah  well ! 
get  you  gone !  Such  was  the  whole  story.  O  blind 
Germans !  how  like  children  we  act  in  allowing  our- 
selves to  be  played  upon  and  duped  by  Rome !  .  .  . 
The  Jews  must  for  once  have  their  chaut, — Yo !  Yo ! 


LUTHER  AT  EISENACH. 


Yo !  Uiit  our  iKiisovor  also  will  come,  aud  tlien  we 
will  sinjj  Ilallclujah  !^  .  .  .  There  must  be  silence 
ami  suffering  for  a  short  time.  Jesus  Christ  says  : 
A  Uttk  ic/iih;  ami  ye  sliutl  not  see  me;  and  afjain,  a  little 
while,  and  ye  shall  see  me,  (John  xvi.  IG.)  I  hope  it  will 
bo  so  with  me.  I  commend  you  altogether  to  the  Eter- 
nal. May  He  through  Ciirist  protect  us  against  the 
attacks  of  the  wolves  and  dragons  of  Rome.     Amen." 

After  writing  this  somewhat  enigmatical  letter, 
Luther,  as  time  was  pressing,  set  out  immediately  for 
Friodberg,  whicli  is  six  leagues  from  Frankfort.  The 
next  day  Luther  again  communed  with  himself.  He 
was  desirous  to  write  once  more  to  Charles  V.,  being 
imwilliug  to  confound  him  witli  guilty  rebels.  In  his 
letter  to  the  emperor  he  clearly  exjiounded  the  nature 
of  the  obedience  which  is  due  to  man,  aud  that  whicli 
is  due  to  God;  and  the  limit  where  the  former  must 
stop  and  give  place  to  the  latter.  In  reading  Luther, 
we  involuntarily  call  to  mind  the  saying  of  the  greatest 
autocrat  of  modern  times:  "My  rule  ends  where  that 
of  conscience  begins."'-  '•  God,  who  is  the  searcher  of 
hearts,  is  my  witness,"  says  Luther,  "  that  I  am  ready 
witli  all  diligence  to  obey  your  majesty,  whether  in 
honour  or  disgrace,  whether  by  life  or  l)y  death,  and 
Avith  absohitelv  no  exception  but  the  Word  of  God, 
from  wliich  man  derives  life.  In  all  the  affaii-s  of  the 
present  life,  my  (idolity  will  be  immutable;  for  as  to 
these,  loss  or  gain  cannot  at  all  affect  salvation.  But 
in  regard  to  eternal  blessings,  it  is  not  the  will  of  God 
that  man  should  submit  to  man.  Subjection  in  the 
spiritual  world  constitutes  worehip,  and  should  be  paid 
only  to  the  Creator." 

Luther  also  addressed  a  letter — but  in  German — to 
the  states  of  the  empire.  It  was  nearly  the  same  in 
substance  as  that  to  the  emperor.  It  contained  an 
account  of  all  that  had  taken  i)lace  at  Worms.  This 
letter  was  repeatedly  printed  aud  circulated  all  over 
Germany.  "  Everywliei'e,"  says  Cochlojus,  "it  excited 
the  popular  indignation  against  the  emperor  and  the 
dignified  clergy." 

Early  next  day  Luther  wrote  a  note  to  Spalatin, 
enclosing  in  it  the  two  letters  which  he  had  written  the 
evening  before,  aud  sent  back  the  herald  Sturm,  who 
had  been  won  to  the  Gospel.  Having  embraced  him, 
he  set  out  in  all  haste  for  Gruuberg. 

On  Tuesday,  when  about  two  leagues  from  Hirsch- 
feld,  he  met  the  cliaucellor  of  tlie  abbot-prince  of  this 
town,  who  had  conic  out  to  receive  him.  Shortlj'  after 
a  troop  of  horsemen  appeared  ynxh.  the  abbot  at  their 
head.  The  latter  leapt  from  his  horse,  and  Luther 
having  alighted  from  his  carriage,  the  prince  and  the 
reformer  embraced,  and  then  entered  Hirsclifeld.  The 
senate  received  them  at  the  gates.  The  prmces  of  the 
Church  ran  to  meet  a  monk  anathematized  by  the 
pope,  and  the  most  distinguished  among  the  laity 
bowed  tlie  head  before  an  individual  whom  the  em- 
peror had  put  under  the  ban. 

"  At  five  in  the  morning  we  will  be  at  the  chiu-ch," 
said  the  prince,  on  rising  in  the  eveniug  from  table,  at 

>  Tlicsc  cries  of  joy  liy  the  Jews,  at  the  time  of  tho  crucifixion,  represent 
the  songs  of  triuiiipli  by  tlie  p:iitisan3  uf  the  papacy  on  occisiou  of  the 
Ciitastiophe  which  is  going  to  befall  Luther;  but  tho  reformer  discovers  in 
the  ilistince  hallciujahs  of  deliverance— L.  Ep.  l,  p.  5S9. 

»  Napoleon  to  the  Protestiint  deputation  after  his  accession  to  tho 
empire. 


winch  the  reformer  w;;s  a  guest.  He  even  wished 
Luther  to  occupy  his  own  bed.  -  Next  day  Luther 
preached,  the  abbot-prince  accompanying  him  with 
his  suite. 

In  the  evening  Luther  arrived  at  Eisenach,  the 
abode  of  his  infancy.  All  his  frienils  in  tlie  town 
gatiiercd  round  him,  and  begged  him  to  preach.  The 
next  day  they  conducted  him  to  the  church.  The 
curate  made  iiis  appearance,  attended  by  a  notary  and 
witnesses.  He  came  forward  in  great  tremor,  divided 
between  the  fear  of  losing  his  place,  and  that  of  oppos- 
ing the  poworfid  man  before  him.  At  last  he  said,  in 
a  tone  of  embarrassment:  "I  pi-otest  against  the  liberty 
which  you  are  going  to  take."  Luther  mounted  the 
pulpit,  and  that  voice  which,  twenty-three  years  before, 
sung  in  the  streets  of  this  town  for  bread,  caused  the 
arches  of  the  ancient  church  to  ring  with  accents  which 
had  begun  to  shake  the  world.  After  the  sermon,  the 
curate,  in  confusion,  stept  softly  forward  to  Luther. 
Tlie  notary  had  drawn  up  his  instrument,  the  witnesses 
had  signed  it,  and  everything  was  in  regular  order  to 
put  the  curate's  place  in  safety.  "  Pardon  me,"  said 
he  humbly  to  the  doctor ;  "  I  have  done  it  from  fear 
of  the  tyrants  who  opprc^ss  the  Church." 

There  was,  in  fact,  some  ground  to  fear  them.  At 
AVorms  the  aspect  of  affairs  had  changed.  Aleander 
seemed  to  reign  sujireme.  "  Luther  has  nothing  before 
him  but  exile,"  wrote  Frederick  to  his  brother,  Duke 
Johu.  "  Nothing  can  save  him.  If  God  permits  me  to 
return,  I  will  have  things  almost  incredible  to  tell  you. 
Not  only  Annas  and  Caiaphas,  but  also  Pilate  and 
Herod,  have  leagued  against  him."  Frederick,  having 
little  wish  to  remain  longer,  left  Worms.  The  elector- 
palatine  did  the  same,  as  did  also  the  Archbishop- 
elector  of  Cologne.  Princes  of  less  elevated  rank 
imitated  them.  Deeming  it  impossible  to  avert  the 
blow  which  was  about  to  be  struck,  they  preferred, 
perhaps  erroneously,  to  abandon  the  place.  The 
Spaniards,  Italians,  and  the  most  ultramontane  of  the 
German  princes,  alone  remained. 

The  field  was  free,  and  Aleander  triumphed.  He 
laid  before  Charles  the  draft  of  an  edict,  which  he 
intended  should  serve  as  the  model  of  that  which  the 
diet  was  to  issue  against  the  monk.  The  nuncio's 
labour  pleased  the  irritated  emperor.  He  assembled 
the  remains  of  the  diet  in  his  chamber,  and  caused 
Aleauder's  edict  to  be  read  to  them.  All  who  were 
present  (so  says  Pallavicini)  approved  it. 

The  next  day — the  day  of  a  great  festival — the  em- 
peror w;is  in  the  church,  surrounded  by  the  nobility  of 
his  court.  The  religious  solemnity  was  finished,  and  a 
multitude  of  people  filled  the  church,  when  Aleander, 
clad  in  all  the  insignia  of  his  rank,  approached  Charles 
V.  He  held  in  his  hand  two  copies  of  the  edict 
against  Luther,  the  one  in  Latin,  and  the  other  in 
German,  and,  kneeling  down  before  his  majesty,  im- 
plored him  to  append  his  signature  and  the  seal  of  the 
empire.  It  wa.s  at  the  moment  when  the  host  had  just 
been  offered,  when  incense  filled  the  temple,  when 
music  was  still  ringing  under  its  arches,  and,  as  it 
were,  in  the  presence  of  the  Divinitj%  that  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  enemy  of  Rome  was  to  be  completed.  The 
emperor,  assuming  the  most  gracious  manner,  took  the 
pen  and  signed.     Aleander  went  off  in  triumph,  put 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


the  decree  immediately  to  press,  and  sent  it  over  all 
Christendom.  This  fruit  of  the  labour  of  Rome  had 
cost  the  papacy  some  pains.  Pallavicini  himself  in- 
forms us  that  this  edict,  though  dated  the  8th  May, 
was  signed  later;  but  was  antedated,  to  make  it  be 
supposed  tliat  it  was  executed  during  the  time  when 
all  the  members  of  the  diet  were  actuallv  assembled. 


"Wt,  Chailes  the  Fifth,"  said  the  emperor,  (then 
follo^\ed  all  Ins  title^,)  "to  all  the  electors,  princes, 
pi  elates,  and  others,  whom  it  may  concern. 

"The  Almighty  having  entrusted  to  us,  for  the 
defence  of  His  holy  faith,  more  kingdoms  and  power 

than  He  gave   to  any  of  our      

predecessors,  we  mean  to  ex- 
ert ourselves  to  the  utmost  i> 
prevent  any  heresy  from  ari 
iug  to  pollute  our  holy  empui 

"  Tlie     Augustine     monk,     i 
Martin    Luther,    though    ex- 
horted by  us,  has  rushed,  lil 
a  madman,  against  the  In  I 
Church,  and  sought  to  desti 
it   by  means   of   books   fill.  1 
with  blasphemy.     He  has,  \n 
a  shameful   manner,  insultc.l 
the  imperishable  law  of  hoh 
wedlock.      He  has  striven  u, 
excite  the  laity  to  wash  then' 
hands  in  the  blood  of  priests  , 
and,  overturning  all  obedience, 


has  never  ceased  to  stir  up  revolt,  division,  war,  mur- 
der, theft,  and  fire,  and  to  labour  completely  to  ruin 
the  faith  of  Christians.  ...  In  a  word,  to  pass 
over  all  his  other  iniquities  in  silence,  this  creature,  who 
is  not  a  man,  but  Satan  himself  under  the  form  of  a 
man,  covered  with  the  cowl  of  a  monk,  has  collected  into 
one  stinking  pool  all  the  worst  heresies  of  past  times, 
and  has  added  several  new  ones  of  his  own.     .     .     . 

"  We  have,  therefore,  sent  this  Luther  from  before 
our  face,  that  all  pious  and  sensible  men  may  regard 
him  as  a  fool,  or  a  man  possessed  of  the  devil;  and 
we  expect  that,  after  the  expiry  of  his  safe-conduct, 
effectual  means  will  be  taken  to  arrest  his  furious  ran-e. 

"Wherefore,  under  pain  of  incurring  the  punishment 
due  to  the  crime  of  treason,  we  forbid  you  to  lodge  the 
said  Luther  so  soon  as  the  fatal  term  shall  bo  expired, 
t<i  conceal  him,  give  him  meat  or  drink,  and  lend  him, 
]<y  word  or  deed,  publicly  or  secretly,  any  kind  of 
assistance.  We  enjoin  you,  moreover,  to  seize  him,  or 
cause  him  to  be  seized,  wherever  you  find  him,  and 
bring  him  to  us  without  any  delay,  or  to  keep  him  in  all 
safety  until  you  hear  from  us  how  you  are  to  act  with 
regard  to  him,  and  till  you  receive  the  recompense  due 
to  j'our  exertions  in  so  holy  a  work. 

"  As  to  his  adherents,  you  will  seize  them,  suppress 
them,  and  confiscate  their  goods. 

"As  to  his  writings,  if  the  best  food  becomes  the 
terror  of  all  mankind  as  soon  as  a  drop  of  poison  is 
mixed  with  it,  how  much  more  ought  these  books, 
which  contain  a  deadly  poison  to  the  soul,  to  be  not 
only  rejected,  but  also  annihilated  !  You  will  there- 
fore burn  them,  or  iu  some  other  way  destroy  them 
entirely. 

"As  to  authors,  poets,  printers,  painters,  sellers  or 
buyers  of  placards,  writings,  or  paintings,  against  the 
pope  or  the  Church,  you  will  lay  hold  of  their  persons 
and  their  goods,  and  treat  them  according  to  your  good 
pleasure. 

"  And  if  any  one,  whatever  be  his  dignity,  shall  dare 
to  act  in  contradiction  to  the  decree  of  our  imperial 
majesty,  we  ordain  that  he  shall  be  placed  under  the 
ban  of  the  empire. 

"  Let  every  one  conform  hereto." 

Such  was  the  edict  signed  in  the  cathedral  of  Worms. 
It  was  more  than  a  Roman  bull,  which,  though  pub- 
lished in  Italy,  might  not  be   executed  in  Germany. 


LUTHER  WITH  HIS  PARENTS. 


213 


The  emperor  himself  had  spoken,  and  fhc  diet  had 
ratified  Iiis  decree.  All  the  partisans  of  Rome  sent 
forth  a  sliout  of  triumi>h.  "  It  is  the  end  of  the  tra- 
gedy," exclaimed  they.  "  For  my  part,"  said  Alphouso 
Valcicz,  a  Spaniard  at  the  emperor's  court ;  "  I  am 
persuaded  it  is  not  the  end,  but  the  beginning."  Valdez 
perceived  that  the  movement  was  in  the  Church,  in  the 
people,  in  the  age,  and  that  though  Luther  should  fall, 
his  cause  would  not  fall  with  him.  But  no  one  dis- 
guised to  himself  the  imminent — the  inevitable  dan- 
ger to  which  the  reformer  was  exposed ;  while  the  whole 
tribe  of  the  superstitious  were  seized  with  horror  at  the 
thought  of  the  incanuite  Satan,  whom  the  emperor 
pointed  out  to  the  nation  as  disguised  under  a  monk's 
frock. 

The  man  against  whom  the  mighty  of  the  earth 
were  thus  forging  theii-  thunders,  had  left  the  church 
of  Eisenach,  and  was  preparing  to  separate  from  some 
of  his  dearest  friends.  He  did  not  wish  to  follow  the 
road  of  Gotha  or  Erfurt,  but  to  repaii-  to  the  village  of 
Mora,  his  father's  birthplace,  that  he  might  there  sec 
his  grandmother,  who  died  four  months  after,  his  uncle, 
Henry  Luther,  and  other  relations.  vScluu-ff,  Jonas, 
and  Suaven,  set  off  for  Wittemberg ;  Luther  mounted 
his  vehicle  with  Amsdorff,  who  remained  with  him, 
and  entered  the  forest  of  Thuringia. 

The  same  evening  he  reached  the  village  of  his 
fathers.  The  poor  old  peasant  clasped  in  her  arms 
this  grandson  who  had  just  been  shewing  front  to  the 
Emperor  Charles  and  Pope  Leo.  Luther  spent  the 
next  day  with  his  family,  happy  in  substituting  this 
tranquil  scene  for  the  tumult  at  Wonn'-  On  the  fol- 
lowing day  he  resuuKd  hi->  joumo,  iccompinied  b\ 
Amsdoi-ff  and  his  bi  other  J  imc!  In  the«e  lontl)  '■pot^ 
the  reformer's  lot  w  ii  to  be  decided  They  -v^erc  pTiS- 
ing  along  the  forest  of  Ihuimgn  on  the  road  to  ^\  il- 
tershauseu.  As  the  (  iiinj;e  %\  (>  in  i  li()ll<)\v  i)iit  cf 
the  road,  near  the  f  1  1  I  in  h  f  dli  1  i  h  Tt  imc  1 
tanco  from  til.,  cii-ll  \  ill       i  ^ 


y* 


J^  kA 


heard,  and  at  that  mumuuL  hiu  hurscniL^u,  ma^kud 
and  in  complete  armour,  rushed  u]>on  the  travellers. 
Luther's  brother,  as  soon  as  he  perceived  the  assailants, 
leapt  from  the  vehicle,  and  ran  off  at  full  speed  with- 
out uttering  a  word.  The  driver  was  for  defending 
himself.     "  Stop  I "  cried  one  of  the  assailants  in  a  stern 


voice,  and  rushing  upon  him  threw  him  to  the  ground. 
A  second  man  in  a  mask  seized  Amsdorff,  and  pre- 
vented him  from  coming  near.  Mean\\hile  the  three 
other  horsemen  laid  hold  of  Luther,  keeping  the  most 
l)rofound  silence.  They  pulled  him  violently  from  the 
carriage,  threw  a  horseman's  cloak  upon  his  shoulders, 
and  placed  him  on  a  led  horse.  Then  the  other  two 
tpiitted  Amsdorff  and  the  driver,  and  the  whole  leapt 
into  then-  saddles.  The  hat  of  one  of  them  fell  off, 
but  they  did  not  even  stop  to  lift  it,  and  in  a  twinkling 
disappeared  in  the  dark  forest  with  their  prisoner. 
They  at  first  took  the  road  to  Broderode  ;  but  they  soon 
retraced  their  steps  by  a  different  road,  and,  without 
quitting  the  forest,  made  turnings  and  windings  in  all 
directions,  in  order  to  deceive  those  who  miffht  attempt 
to  follow  tluMi-lnu-k 


T  uthci  littit,  accustomed  to  hoi  eback,  was  soon 
^Licome  ^Mtli  fitigue  Being  permitted  to  dismount 
t  I  a  fe\\  moments  he  rested  neai  a  beech  tree  and 
to  k  1  di aught  of  frc-h  \\'\{cr  fi   m  a    \  iiii;r,  \\hich  is 

.>ull  Lulled  LaJ.„^.Sj„,„,j.       H,=  bruth.-.  Jau.co.  al.va^S 

continuing  his  flight,  an-ived  in  the  evening  at  Walters- 
hausen.  The  driver,  in  great  alarm,  had  got  up  on  his 
vehicle,  into  which  Amsdorff  also  mounted,  and  urging 
on  his  horses,  which  proceeded  at  a  rapid  pace,  brought 
Luther's  friend  as  far  as  Wittemberg.    At  "Walters- 


214 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


hausen,  and  Wittemberg,  and  the  interjacent  countiy, 
villages,  and  towns,  all  along  the  road,  news  of  Luther's 
having  been  carried  off  were  spread, — news  which, 
while  it  delighted  some,  filled  the  greater  number  with 
astonishment  and  indignation.  A  cry  of  grief  soon 
resounded  throughout  Germany:  "Luther  has  fallen 
iuto  the  hands  of  his  enemies ! " 

After  the  violent  combat  which  Luther  had  been 
obliged  to  maintain,  God  was  pleased  to  conduct  him  to 
a  peaceful  resting-place.  After  placing  him  on  the 
brilliant  theatre  of  Worms,  where  all  the  powers  of 
the  reformer's  soul  had  been  so  vigorously  exerted.  He 
gave  him  the  obscure  and  humiliating  retreat  of  a  pri- 
son. From  the  deepest  obscurity  He  brings  forth  the 
feeble  instruments  by  which  He  proposes  to  accomplish 
great  things,  and  then,  after  allowing  them  to  shine  for 
a  short  time  with  great  lustre  on  an  elevated  stage, 
sends  them  back  again  to  deep  obscurity.  Violent 
struggles  and  pompous  displays  were  not  the  means  by 
which  the  Reformation  was  to  be  accomijlishcd.  That 
is  not  the  way  in  which  the  leaven  penetrates  the  mass 
of  the  population.  The  Spirit  of  God  requires  more 
tranquil  paths.  The  man  of  whom  the  chamj^ions  of 
Home  w^ere  always  iu  pitiless  pursuit,  behoved  for  a 
time  to  disappear  from  the  world.  It  was  necessary 
that  personal  achievements  should  be  eclipsed,  in  order 
that  the  revolution  about  to  be  accomplished  might  not 
bear  the  impress  of  an  individual.  It  was  necessary 
that  man  should  retire  and  God  alone  remain,  moving, 
by  His  Spii-it,  over  the  abj'ss  iu  which  the  darkness  of 
the  Middle  Ages  was  engulfed,  and  saying :  Let  tJiere  be 
light 

Nightfall  having  made  it  impossible  to  follow  their 
track,  the  party  carrying  off  Luther  took  a  new  direc- 
tion, and  about  au  hour  before  midnight  arrived  at  the 
foot  of  a  mountain.  The  horses  climbed  slowly  to  its 
summit,  on  which  stood  an  old  fortress,  surrounded  on 
all  sides,  except  that  of  the  entrance,  by  the  black 
forests  which  cover  the  moLintains  of  Thuringia. 

To  this  elevated  and  isolated  castle,  named  the  Wart-  i 
bm-g,   where  the  landgraves   of  old  used   to  conceal  j 
themselves,   was   Luther   conducted.      The   bolts    are 
drawn,   the  iron  bars  fall,   the  gates   open,   and   the  ; 
reformer,  clearing  the  threshold,  the  bars  again  close  | 


behind  him.  He  dismounts  in  the  court.  Burkhardt  de 
Hund,  Lord  of  Altenstein,  one  of  the  horsemen,  with- 
di-aws ;  another,  John  of  Berlepsch,  provost  of  Wart- 
burg,  conducts  Luther  to  the  chamber  which  was  to  be 
his  prison,  and  where  a  knight's  dress  and  a  sword  were 
lying.  The  three  other  horsemen,  dependants  of  the 
provost,  carry  off  his  ecclesiastical  dress,  and  put  on  the 
other  which  had  been  prepared  for  him,  enjoining  him 
to  allow  his  hair  and  beard  to  grow,  in  order  that  none 
even  in  the  castle  might  know  who  he  was.  The  in- 
mates of  the  Wartburg  were  only  to  know  the  prisoner 
under  the  name  of  Chevalier  Georges.  Luther  scarcely 
knew  himself  in  the  di-ess  which  was  put  upon  him. 
At  length  he  is  left  alone,  and  can  turn  in  his  thoughts 
the  strange  events  which  had  just  taken  place  at 
Worms,  the  uncertain  prospect  which  awaits  him,  and 
his  new  and  strange  abode.  From  the  narrow  windows 
of  his  keep  he  discovers  the  dark,  solitary,  and  bound- 
less forests  around,  "There,"  says  Mathesius,  the 
biographer  and  friend  of  Luther,  "  the  doctor  remained, 
like  St.  Paul  iu  his  prison  at  Rome." 

Frederick  de  Thun,  Philip  Feilitsch,  and  Spalatin, 
had  not  concealed  from  Luther,  in  a  confidential  inter- 
view which  they  had  with  him  at  Woi'ms,  by  order  of 
the  elector,  that  his  liberty  behoved  to  be  sacrificed  to 
the  wi-ath  of  Charles  and  the  pope.  StUl,  there  was 
so  much  mystery  iu  the  mode  of  his  being  earned  off, 
that  Frederick  was  long  ignorant  of  the  place  of  his 
confiuement.  The  grief  of  the  friends  of  the  Reforma- 
tion was  prolonged.  Spring  passed  away,  succeeded 
by  summer,  autumn,  and  winter, — the  sun  finished  his 
annual  course,  and  the  walls  of  the  Wartburg  still  con- 
fined their  prisoner.  The  truth  is  laid  under  interdict 
by  the  diet ;  its  defender,  shut  up  within  the  walls  of  a 
strong  castle,  has  disappeared  from  the  stage  of  the 
world,  none  knowing  what  has  become  of  him.  Alean- 
der  triumphs,  and  the  Reformation  seems  lost ;  .  .  , 
but  God  reigns,  and  the  blow  which  apparently  threat- 
ened to  annihilate  the  cause  of  the  Gospel,  will  serve 
only  to  save  its  intrepid  minister,  and  extend  the  light 
of  faith. 

Let  us  leave  Luther  a  captive  in  Genuany  on  ths 
heights  of  the  Wartburg,  and  let  us  see  what  God  was 
then  doing  in  the  other  countries  of  Christendom. 


TELLS   CHAPEL. 


SOURCE  OF  THE  REFOKMATION. 


BOOK    VIII. 


THE  SWISS — 1484-1522. 


CHAPTER  1. 

Movomruts  in  Svvitzciland— Soureo  of  the  Rcrorinntion— Deinocratio  t'hnr- 
nctcr— Foreign  Service— Jlorality— The  Toekeubiu-g— Aa  Alpine  Hut— 
A  Tastorul  Family. 

At  tho  moment  ■\vlicn  the  decree  of  the  diet  of  "Worms 
appciircd,  a  continually  increasing  movement  was  be- 
ginning to  shake  the  quiet  valleys  of  Switzerland.  The 
voice  which  was  heard  in  the  plains  of  Upper  and 
Lower  Saxony  was  answered  from  the  bosom  of  the 
Helvetic  moimtaius  by  the  energetic  voices  of  its 
jn-iests,  its  shejihcrds,  and  the  citizens  of  its  warlike 
cities.  The  partisans  of  Rome,  seized  with  terror, 
exclaimed  that  a  vast  and  dreadful  conspii-acy  was 
everywhere  formed  against  the  Church.  The  friends 
of  the  Gospel,  tilled  with  joy,  said,  that  as  in  spring  a 
living  breath  is  felt  from  the  streams  which  run  into 
the  sea  up  to  the  mountain  tops,  so,  throughout  all 
Christendom,  the  Spu'it  of  God  was  now  melting  the 
ices  of  a  long  winter,  and  covering  with  verdure  and 
(lowers  the  lowest  plains,  as  well  as  the  steepest  and 
most  barren  rocks. 

Germany  did  not  communicate  the  truth  to  Switzer- 
land, nor  Switzerland  to  France,  nor  France  to  Eng- 
land. All  these  couutries  received  it  from  God,  just 
as  one  part  of  the  world  does  not  transmit  the  light  to 
another  part ;  but  the  same  shining  globe  communicates 
it  directly  to  all  the  earth.  Christ,  the  dai/sprinff  from 
on  /ligh,  infinitely  exalted  above  all  mankind,  was — at 
the  period  of  the  Reformation,  as  at  that  of  the  estab- 
lishment of  Christianity — the  Divine  fire  which  gave 
life  to  the  world.  In  the  sixteenth  centiu-y  one  and  the 
same  doctrine  was  at  once  established  in  the  homes 
and  churches  of  the  most  distant  and  diversLtied  nations. 
The  reason  is,  that  the  same  Spirit  was  everywhere  at 
work  producing  the  same  faith. 

The  Reformation  of  Germany  and  that  of  Switzer- 
land demonstrate  this  truth.  Zwingle  had  no  inter- 
course with  Luther.  There  was,  no  doubt,  a  link 
between  these  two  men ;  but  we  must  search  for  it 
above  the  earth.  He  who  from  heaven  gave  the  truth 
to  Luther,  gave  it  to  Zwingle.  God  was  the  medium 
of  communication  between  them.  "I  began  to  preach 
the  Gospel,"  says  Zwingle,  "  in  the  year  of  grace, 
151G,  in  other  words,  at  a  time  when  the  name  of 
Luther  had  never  been  heard  of  in  oiu-  coimtrj'.  I  did 
not  learn  the  doctrine  of  Christ  from  Luther,  but  from 
the  Word  of  God,  If  Luther  preaches  Christ,  he  does 
what  I  do ;  that  is  all." 

But  if  the  different  reformations,  which  all  pro- 
ceeded from  the  same  Spirit,  thereby  acquired  great 
unity,  they  also  received  certain  peculiar  features, 
coiTesponding  to  the  different  characters  of  the  j'oople 
among  whom  they  took  place. 


We  have  already  given  a  sketch  of  the  state  of 
Switzerland  at  the  period  of  the  Rcfoi-mation,  and  will 
only  add  a  few  words  to  what  we  have  already  said. 
In  Germany,  the  ruling  principle  was  monarchical;  in 
Switzerland,  it  was  democratic.  In  Geraiany,  the 
Reformation  had  to  struggle  with  the  will  of  princes  ; 
iu  Switzerland,  with  the  will  of  the  people.  A  multi- 
tude are  more  easily  led  away  than  an  individual,  and 
are  also  more  prompt  in  their  decisions.  'I'he  victory 
over  tho  papacy  on  the  other  side  of  the  Rhine,  was 
the  work  of  years ;  but  on  this  side  of  it,  required 
only  months  or  days. 

In  Germany,  Luther's  person  stands  forth  imposingly 
from  the  midst  of  his  Saxon  countrymen.  He  seems 
to  struggle  alone  in  his  attack  on  the  Roman  Colossus  ; 
and  -wherever  the  battle  is  fought,  we  see  his  lofty 
stature  on  the  field  of  battle.  Luther  is,  as  it  were, 
the  monarch  of  the  )-evolution  which  is  bemg  accom- 
plished. In  Switzerland,  several  cantons  are  at  once 
engaged  in  the  contest.  We  see  a  confederacy  of 
reformers,  and  are  astonished  at  their  numbers.  No 
doubt  there  is  one  head  which  stands  elevated  above 
the  rest ;  but  no  one  has  the  command.  It  is  a  repub- 
lican magistracy,  where  each  presents  his  peculiar 
physiognomy,  and  exercises  his  separate  influence.  We 
have  Wittemberg,  Zwingle,  Ca])ito,  Ilaller,  OEcolam- 
padius.  Again,  we  have  Oswald  Mycouius,  Leo  Juda, 
Farel,  and  Calviu ;  and  the  Refonnation  takes  place 
at  Claris,  Bale,  Zurich,  Berne,  Neufchatel,  Geneva, 
Lucerne,  Schafhausen,  Appenzel,  Saint  Gall,  and  in  the 
Grisous.  In  the  Reformation  of  Germany  one  scene 
only  is  seen,  and  that  one  level,  like  the  country 
around ;  but  in  Switzerland,  the  Reformation  is 
divided,  as  Switzerland  itself  is  divided  by  its  thousand 
mountains.  So  to  speak,  each  valley  has  its  awak- 
ening, and  each  Alpine  height  its  gleams  of  light. 

A  lamentable  period  had  commenced  in  the  history 
of  the  Swiss  after  their  exploits  against  the  dukes  of 
Bnrgimdy.  Europe,  which  had  learned  to  know  the 
strength  of  theu:  arm,  had  brought  them  forth  from 
their  mountains,  and  robbed  them  of  their  indepen- 
dence, by  employing  them  to  decide  the  destiny  of 
states  on  battle-fields.  Swiss  brandished  the  sword 
against  Swiss  on  the  plains  of  Italy  and  France ;  and 
the  intrigues  of  strangers  filled  these  high  valleys  of 
the  Alps,  so  long  the  abode  of  simplicity  and  peace, 
with  envy  and  discord.  Led  away  by  the  attraction 
of  gold,  sons,  labourers,  and  servants,  stole  away  from 
the  chalets  of  alpine  pastures,  towards  the  banks  of  the 
Rhine  or  the  Po.  Helvetic  unity  was  crushed  under 
the  slow  step  of  miUes  loaded  with  gold.  The  object 
of  the  Reformation  iu  Switzerland — for  there  too  it  had 
a  political  aspect — was  to  re-establish  the  unity  and 
ancient  vu-tues  of  the  cantons.     Its  first  cry  was,  that 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


the  Swiss  should  tear  asunder  the  perfidious  nets  of 
strangers,  and  embrace  each  other  in  strict  union  at 
the  foot  of  the  cross.  But  the  generous  call  was  not 
listened  to.  Eome,  accustomed  to  pm-chase  in  these 
valleys  the  blood  which  she  shed,  in  order  to  increase 
her  power,  rose  up  in  wrath.  She  set  Swiss  against 
Swiss,  and  new  passions  arose  which  rent  the  body  of 
the  nation  in  pieces. 

Switzerland  stood  in  need  of  a  reformation.  It  is 
true  there  was  among  the  Helvetians  a  simplicity  and 
good-nature,  which  the  polished  Italians  thought  ridi- 
culous; but,  at  the  same  time,  it  was  admitted,  that  by 
no  people  were  the  laws  of  chastity  more  habitually 
transgressed.  Astrologers  ascribed  this  to  the  con- 
stellations; philosophers,  to  the  ardent  temperament 
of  this  indomitable  population  ;  and  moralists,  to  the 
principles  of  the  Swiss,  who  regarded  trick,  dishonesty, 
and  slander,  as  much  greater  sins  than  uncleanness. 
The  priests  were  prohibited  from  marrying ;  but  it 
would  have  been  ditficult  to  find  one  of  them  who  lived 
in  true  celibacy.  The  thing  required  of  them  was,  to 
conduct  themselves  not  chastely,  but  prudently.  This 
was  one  of  the  first  disorders  against  which  the  Eefor- 
mation  was  directed.  It  is  time  to  trace  the  beginnings 
of  this  new  day  in  the  valleys  of  the  Alps. 

Towards  the  middle  of  the  eleventh  century,  two 
hermits  set  out  from  Saint  Gall,  and  proceeding 
towards  the  mountains  at  the  south  of  this  ancient 
monastery,  arrived  in  a  deserted  valley  about  ten 
leagues  long.  Towards  the  north,  the  high  mountains 
of  Sentis,  the  Sommerigkopf,  and  the  Old  Man,  sepa- 
rate this  valley  from  the  canton  of  Appenzel.  On  the 
south,  the  Kuhfivsten,  with  its  seven  heads,  rises  be- 
tween it  and  the  Wallensee,  Sargans,  and  the  Grisons, 
while  the  eastern  side  of  the  valley  opens  to  the  rays 
of  the  rising  sun,  and  discovers  the  magnificent  pro- 
spect of  the  Tyrolese  Alps.  The  two  solitai-ies  having 
arrived  near  the  source  of  a  small  river,  (the  Thur,) 
built  two  cells.  The  valley  gi-adually  became  inha- 
bited. On  the  highest  portion  of  it,  2010  feet  above 
the  Lake  of  Zm'ich,  there  was  formed,  around  a 
church,  a  village  named  Wildhaus,  or  the  Wild-house, 
with  which  two  hamlets  are  now  connected, — viz., 
Lisighaus,  or  the  House  of  Elizabeth  and  Scha3uen- 
boden.  The  fruits  of  this  earth  are  unable  to  grow 
upon  these  heights.  A  green  carpet  of  Alpine  fi-esh- 
uess  covers  the  whole  vaUey,  and  rises  upon  the  sides 
of  the  mountains,  above  which  miisses  of  enormous 
rocks  lift  their  wild  grandeur  towards  heaven. 

At  a  quarter  of  a  league  from  the  church,  near  Lisig- 
haus, on  the  side  of  a  path  which  leads  into  the  pastures 
beyond  the  river,  a  solitary  house  is  still  standing.  The 
tradition  is,  that  the  wood  used  in  building  it  was  cut 
upon  the  very  spot.  Everything  indicates  that  it  must 
have  been  erected  at  a  very  remote  period.  I'he  walls 
are  thin.  The  windows  have  little  round  panes ;  and 
the  roof  is  formed  of  slabs,  on  which  stones  are  laid  to 
prevent  the  wind  from  can-ying  them  away.  In  front 
of  the  house  there  is  a  limpid  gushing  spring. 

In  this  house,  towards  the  end  of  the  fifteenth  cen- 
tury, lived  a  man,  named  Zwinglo,  amman  or  bailiff  of 
the  district.  The  family  of  the  Zwingles,  or  Zwingli, 
was  ancient,  and  in  high  esteem  among  the  inhabitants 
of   these   mountains.      Bartholomew,   brother   of   the 


bailiff,  at  first  curate  of  the  parish,  and,  after  1487, 
dean  of  AVesen,  was  a  person  of  some  celebrity  in  the 
district.  Margaret  Meili,  the  wife  of  the  amman  of 
Wildhaus,  and  whose  brother,  John,  was  afterwards 
abbot  of  the  convent  of  Fisc.hingen  in  Thurgovia,  had 
already  given  birth  to  two  sons,  Heini  and  Ivlaus, 
when,  on  the  first  day  of  the  year  1484,  seven  weeks 
after  the  birth  of  Luther,  a  thii-d  sou,  Ulrich,  was  born 
in  this  solitary  hut.     Five  other  sons,  .John,  WolfganR, 


IG  LE    S     B 


Bartholomew,  James,  Andrew,  and  a  dauiihter,  Anna, 
were  afterwards  added  to  this  Alpine  family.  No  per- 
son in  the  country  was  more  venerated  than  amman 
Zwingle.  His  character,  his  office,  his  numerous 
children,  made  him  the  patriarch  of  these  mountains. 
He  and  all  his  sons  were  shepherds.  No  sooner  did 
the  first  days  of  May  open  ujion  these  mountains,  than 
the  father  and  the  children  departed  with  their  flocks 
for  the  pastures,  rising  gradually  from  station  to 
station,  and  so,  towards  the  end  of  July,  reaching  the 
highest  summits  of  the  Alps.  Then  they  began  gra- 
dually to  redescend  towards  the  valley;  and  in  autumn 
the  whole  population  of  Wildhaus  return  to  their 
humble  huts.  Sometimes,  during  the  summer,  the 
young  people  who  had  been  obliged  to  remain  at  home, 
eager  for  the  mountain  breezes,  set  out  in  bands  for 
the  chalets,  uniting  their  voices  to  the  melody  of  then- 
rustic  instruments.  On  their  arrival  on  the  Alps  the 
shepherds  from  a  distance  saluted  them  with  their 
horns  and  their  songs,  and  regaled  them  with  a  feast 
of  milk.  Afterwards,  the  joyous  band,  by  turnings  and 
windings,  descended  again  into  the  valley,  moving  to 
the  sound  of  their  pipes.  Ulrich,  in  his  youth,  doubtless 
joined  occasionally  in  this  amusement.  He  grew  up 
at  the  foot  of  those  rocks  which  seem  eternal,  and 
whose  tops  reach  the  heavens.  "  I  have  often  thought," 
says  one  of  his  friends,  "  that,  being  brought  near  to 
heaven  on  these  sublime  heights,  he  there  contracted 
something  celestial  and  divine." 

Tliere  were  long  winter  evenings  in  the  cottages  of 
Wildhaus ;  and  then  young  UWch,  seated  at  the  pa- 
ternal hearth,  listened  to  the  conversation  of  the  baUiff 
and  the  old  men  of  the  district.  He  heard  them  tell 
how  the  inhabitants  of  the  valley  had  formerly  groaned 
under  a  heavy  yoke.  With  the  old  men,  his  heart 
beat  high  at  the  thought  of  the  independence  which 
the  Tockenburg  had  acquired,  and  which  the  alliance 
with  the  Swiss  had  secured.  A  patriotic  feeling  was 
kindled  in  his  breast.  Switzerland  became  dear  to 
him ;  and  if  any  one  uttered  an  unfavourable  expres- 


ZWINGLB  AT  BAXE. 


217 


sion  against  the  coufcdcratcs,  the  child  iiistautly  stood 
up  and  warmly  defended  their  cause.  Diu-ing  these 
long  evenings,  he  was  often  seen  quietly  seated  at  the 
feet  of  his  pious  grandmother,  with  his  eyes  rivettcd 
iil)0u  her,  listening  to  her  IJiljle  stories  and  devout 
lessons,  as  he  eagerly  received  them  into  his  heart. 


CHAPTER  11. 

Yuiing  Ulricli  at  Wescn— At  Bale— At  Berne— The  Dominican  Convent— 
JcUer— The  Apparitions- Tlie  Passion  of  the  Lay  Brother— The  Iinpos- 
turo— Discovery  and  Punishment— Zwingle  at  Vienna— At  Bile- Music 
at  ISAlc— Wittuuibach  teaches  the  Gospel— Leon  Juda- The  Curate  of 


The  good  amnian  was  delighted  with  the  happy  pre- 
sages in  his  son.  He  perceived  that  Ulrich  would  be 
able  to  do  something  else  than  herd  his  cows  on  Mount 
Sentis,  singing  the  shepherd's  song.  One  day  he  took 
him  by  the  hand  and  proceeded  with  him  towards 
AVeseu.  He  traversed  the  verdant  ridges  of  the  Ain- 
mon,  avoiding  the  wild  and  jjreeipitous  rocks  which 
border  the  Lake  of  Walleustadt.  On  arriving  at  the 
town,  ho  called  upon  his  brother  the  dean,  to  whom  he 
entrusted  the  young  mountaineer,  in  order  that  he  might 
ascertain  what  his  talents  were.  The  loading  feature 
in  his  character  was  an  innate  horror  at  falsehood,  and 
a  great  love  of  truth.  He  hiaiself  relates  that  one  day, 
■when  he  was  beginning  to  reflect,  the  thought  struck 
him  that  falsehood  should  be  punished  more  severely 
than  even  theft ;  "  for,"  adds  he,  "  veracity  is  the  parent 
of  all  the  virtues."  The  deau  soon  loved  his  nephew 
as  if  he  had  been  his  sou ;  delighted  with  his  sprightli- 
ness,  he  entrusted  his  education  to  a  schoolmaster,  who 
in  a  short  time  taught  him  all  that  he  knew  himself. 
Young  Uh'ich,  when  ten  years  of  age,  having  given 
inilications  of  a  high  order  of  intellect,  his  father  and 
his  uncle  resolved  on  sending  him  to  Bale. 

When  the  child  of  the  Tockenburg  arrived  in  this 
celebrated  city,  with  an  integrity  and  purity  of  heart 
which  he  seemed  to  have  inhaled  fi'om  the  pure  air  of 
his  mountains,  but  which  came  from  a  higher  source, 
a  new  world  opened  before  him.  The  celebrity  of  the 
famous  Council  of  Bale  ;  the  university  which  Pius  II. 
had  founded  in  14G0;  the  printing  presses,  which  re- 
vived the  masterpieces  of  antiquity,  and  circulated 
over  the  world  the  lirst  fruits  of  the  revival  of  letters ; 
the  residence  of  distinguished  men, — the  Wessels,  the 
AVittcmbachs,  and,  in  particular,  that  prince  of  scholars 
and  luminaiy  of  the  schools,  Erasmus,  rendered  Bale, 
at  the  period  of  the  Reformation,  one  of  the  great  foci 
of  light  in  the  west. 

Ulrich  entered  the  school  of  St.  Theodore,  which  was 
taught  by  Gregory  Binzli,  a  man  of  an  affectionate  and 
gentle  temper, — at  this  period  rare  among  teachers. 
Young  Zwingle  made  rapid  progress.  The  learned  dis- 
putes which  were  then  fashionable  among  the  doctors 
of  imiversities  had  even  descended  to  the  youth  in 
schools.  Ulrich  took  part  in  them.  He  exercised  his 
growing  strength  against  the  chikh-en  of  other  schools. 


and  was  always  victorious  in  tiiose  struggles  which 
formed  a  kind  of  prelude  to  those  by  which  the  papacy 
was  to  be  overthrown  in  Switzerland.  His  success 
excited  the  jealousy  of  rivals  older  than  himself.  The 
school  of  Bale  was  soon  outstripped  by  him,  as  tliat  of 
"Wesen  had  been. 

Lupulus.  a  distinguished  scholar,  had  just  opened  at 
Urnic  tlic  lirst  l(:u'neil  school  that  was  founded  in 
Swilzi  tIuihI.  'JMu'  bailiff  of  AVildhaus  and  the  curate 
of  Wi'sc]!  resolved  to  send  their  child  thither;  and 
/winkle,  iu  14'J7,  quitting  the  smiling  plains  of  Bale, 
a^'aiii  drew  near  to  the  high  Alps,  where  he  had  spent 
his  childhood,  and  whose  snowy  tops,  gilded  with  the 
rays  of  the  sun,  he  could  see  from  Berne.  Lupulus,  a 
distinguished  poet,  introduced  his  pupil  to  the  sanctuary 
of  classic  literature, — a  sanctuary  then  unknown,  only 
a  few  of  the  initiated  having  passed  the  threshold. 
The  young  neophyte  ardently  breathed  an  atmosphere 
rich  in  the  perfumes  of  antiquity.  His  intellect  was 
developed,  and  his  style  formed.     He  became  a  poet. 

Among  the  convents  of  Berne,  that  of  the  Domini- 
cans held  a  distinguished  place.  These  monks  were 
engaged  in  a  serious  quarrel  with  the  Franciscans. 
The  latter  maintained  the  immaculate  conception  of  the 
virgin,  while  the  former  denied  it.  In  every  step  the 
Dominicans  took, — before  the  rich  altars  which  deco- 
rated their  church,  and  between  the  twelve  pillars  on 
which  its  arches  were  supported, — they  thought  only  of 
humbling  their  rivals.  They  had  observed  the  line 
voice  of  Zwingle,  and  heard  of  his  precocious  intellect, 
and  thinking  that  he  might  throw  lustre  on  their  order, 
strove  to  gain  him.  With  this  view  they  invited  him 
to  remain  in  their  convent  till  he  shoidd  make  his 
noviciate.  The  whole  prospects  of  Zwingle  were  threat- 
ened. The  amman  of  Wildhaus  having  been  informed 
of  the  bait  to  which  the  Dominicans  had  had  recourse, 
trembled  for  the  innocence  of  his  son,  and  ordered  him 
forthwith  to  quit  Berne.  Zwingle  thus  escaped  those 
monastic  enclosures  into  which  Luther  rushed  volun- 
tarily. What  happened  afterwards  may  enable  us  to 
comprehend  the  imminent  danger  to  which  Zwingle 
had  been  exposed. 

In  1507,  great  excitement  prevailed  in  the  town  of 
Berne.  A  young  man  of  Zurzach,  named  John  Jetzer, 
having  one  day  presented  himself  at  this  same  Domini- 
can convent,  had  been  repulsed.  The  poor  youth,  in 
despair,  had  returned  to  the  charge,  holding  in  his  hand 
fifty-three  florins  and  some  pieces  of  silk.  "It  is  all 
I  possess,"  said  he ;  "  take  it,  and  receive  me  into  your 
order."  He  was  admitted  on  the  Gth  January  among 
the  lay  brothers.  But  the  very  first  night  a  strange 
noise  in  his  cell  filled  him  with  terror.  He  fled  to  the 
Carthusian  convent,  but  was  again  sent  back  to  that  of 
the  Dominicans. 

On  the  following  night — being  the  eve  of  the  feast 
of  St.  Matthew — he  was  awoke  by  deep  sighs,  and  per- 
ceived at  his  bedside  a  tall  phantom  in  white.  "I 
am,"  said  a  sepidcliral  voice,  "  a  soul  escaped  from  the 
fire  of  purgatory."  The  lay  brother  trembling,  re- 
plied :  '•  God  save  you ;  for  me,  I  can  do  nothing." 
Then  the  spirit  advanced  towards  the  poor  friar  and, 
seizing  him  by  the  throat,  indignantly  upbraided  him 
with  his  refusal.  Jetzer,  iu  teiTor,  exclaimed :  "  What, 
then,  can  I  do  to  save  you  ?  " — "  Flagellate  yourself  for 


HISTORY  OP  THE  EEFORMATION. 


eight  days  till  the  blood  comes,  and  lie  prostrate  on  the 
pavement  of  the  chapel  of  .St.  John."  So  answered 
the  spirit,  and  disappeared.  The  lay  brother  gave  in- 
formation of  the  apparition  to  his  confessor,  a  preacher 
of  llie  convent,  and  by  his  advice  submitted  to  the  dis- 
cipline required.  The  rumour  soon  spread  throughout 
the  town  that  a  soul  had  applied  to  the  Dominicans  to 
be  delivered  from  purgatory.  The  Franciscans  were 
deserted,  aud  every  oue  ran  to  the  church  to  see  the 
holy  man  lying  prostrate  on  the  ground.  The  soul  from 
purgatory  had  intimated  that  he  would  reappear  in 
eight  days.  On  the  night  appointed  it,  in  fact,  did 
appear,  accompanied  by  two  other  spu'its  that  were  tor- 
menting it,  and  howling  horribly.  "Scotus,"  said  the 
spirit, — "  Scotus,  the  inventor  of  the  Franciscan  doc- 
trine of  the  immaculate  conception  of  the  Virgin,  is 
among  those  who,  like  me,  are  suffering  these  fierce 
pains."  At  this  news,  which  soon  spread  over  Berne, 
the  partisans  of  the  Franciscans  were  still  more  alarmed. 
The  spirit,  on  disappearing,  had  announced  a  visit  from 
the  Virgin  herself.  In  fact,  on  the  day  appointed,  the 
a-stonished  friar  saw  Mary  herself  appear  in  his  cell. 
He  could  not  believe  his  eyes.  She  approached  him 
kindly,  gave  him  three  of  our  Saviour's  tears,  three 
drops  of  His  blood,  a  crucifix,  and  a  letter  addressed  to 
Pope  Julius  n.,  "who,"  said  she,  "was  the  individual 
chosen  by  God  to  abolish  the  festival  of  her  pretended 
immaculate  conception."  Then,  coming  still  closer  to 
tlic  bed  on  whicli  the  friar  lay,  she  announced,  in  a 
solemn  tone,  that  a  great  grace  was  to  be  conferred  on 
him,  and  drove  a  nail  into  his  hand.  The  lay  brother 
uttered  a  loud  shriek ;  but  Mary  wrapt  up  his  hand  in 
a  piece  of  linen,  whicli  her  Sou,  she  said,  had  worn 
after  His  flight  into  Egypt.  This  wound  was  not  suf- 
ficient to  make  the  glory  of  the  Dominicans  equal  to 
that  of  the  Franciscans.  Jetzer  must  have  the  five 
wounds  of  Christ  aud  of  St.  Francis  in  his  hands,  feet, 
aad  side.  The  four  others  were  inflicted,  and  theu, 
after  giviug  him  a  draught,  he  was  placed  in  a  hall 
Iiung  with  pictures  representing  our  Saviour's  passion. 
Here,  having  spent  whole  days  fasting,  his  imagination 
soon  became  heated.  The  doors  of  the  hall  were  then 
thi'own  o[)eu  from  time  to  time  to  the  public,  who  came 
iu  crowds  to  contemplate,  witli  devout  astonishment, 
the  friar  with  his  five  wouuds,  stretching  out  his  arms, 
bending  his  head,  aud  by  his  positions  and  gestures 
imitating  the  crucifixion  of  our  Lord.  Sometimes,  out 
of  his  wits,  he  foamed,  and  seemed  about  to  breathe 
his  last.  The  wliisper  went  round :  "  He  is  endur- 
ing the  cross  of  Christ."  The  multitude,  eager  for 
miracles,  continually  thronged  the  convent.  Men 
worthy  of  high  esteem — among  others  Lupulus  him- 
self, the  master  of  Zwingle — were  overawed  ;  aud  the 
Dominicans,  from  the  height  of  the  pulpit,  extolled 
the  glory  which  God  was  bestowing  on  their  order. 

This  order  had,  for  some  years,  felt  the  necessity  of 
humbling  the  Franciscans,  and  of  augmenting  the  re- 
spect and  liberality  of  the  people  by  means  of  miracles. 
Berne,  "  a  simple,  rustic,  and  ignorant  town," — as  the 
sub-prior  of  Berue  described  it  to  the  chapter  held  at 
Wirapfen  on  the  Ncckar, — had  been  selected  as  the 
theatre  of  their  operations.  The  prior,  sub-prior, 
preacher,  and  purveyor  of  the  convent,  had  undertaken 
to  perform  the  leading  characters  ;  but  they  wanted  the 


talent  necessary  to  perform  them  to  the  end.  A  new 
apparition  of  Mary  having  taken  place,  Jetzer  thought 
he  recognized  the  voice  of  his  confessor;  and  having 
said  so  aloud,  Mary  disappeared.  She  soon  made  her 
appearance  again,  to  censure  the  incredulous  friar. 
"  This  time  it  is  the  prior,"  exclaimed  Jetzer,  rushing 
forward  with  a  knife  in  his  hand.  The  saintess  threw 
a  pewter  plate  at  the  poor  friar's  head,  and  likewise 
disappeared. 

In  consternation  at  the  discovery  which  Jetzer  had 
thus  made,  the  Dominicans  tried  to  disencumber  them- 
selves of  him  by  means  of  poison.  He  perceived  it ; 
and,  having  taken  flight,  disclosed  the  imposition. 
They  put  on  a  good  countenance,  and  sent  deputies  to 
Rome.  The  pope  committed  the  decision  to  his  legate 
iu  Switzerland,  and  the  bishops  of  Lausanne  and  Sion. 
The  four  Dominicans  being  convicted,  were  condemned 
to  be  burnt  alive ;  and  ou  the  1st  May,  1509,  were  cou- 
suracd  by  the  flames,  in  presence  of  more  than  thirty 
thousand  spectators.  The  affau'  made  a  noise  through- 
out Europe ;  aud  by  uuveiliug  one  of  the  worst  sores 
of  the  Church,  prepared  the  Reformation. 

Such  were  the  meu  into  whose  hands  Ulrich  Zwingle 
had  nearly  fallen.  He  had  studied  literature  at  Berue ; 
he  behoved  now  to  devote  himself  to  philosophy,  and 
with  this  view  repaired  to  Vienna.  A  youth  from  St. 
Gall,  named  Joachim  Vadian,  whose  genius  gave  pro- 
mise to  Switzerland  of  a  distinguished  scholar  and  a 
statesman ;  Henri  Loreti,  of  the  canton  of  Glaris,  com- 
monly called  Glarean,  and  apparently  destined  to  shine 
among  poets ;  John  Ileigerlin,  son  of  a  forgemaster, 
and  hence  suruamed  Faber,  of  a  versatile  temper,  f  oud 
of  honour  and  glory,  possessing  all  the  quahties  indica- 
tive of  a  coiu'tier, — such  were  Ulrich's  fellow-students 
and  comj^anions  in  the  capital  of  Austria. 

Zwingle  returned  to  Wildhaus  in  1502  ;  but  ou  re- 
visiting his  mountains  he  felt  that  he  had  drunk  of  the 
cup  of  science,  and  could  no  longer  live  amid  the  songs 
of  his  brothers  and  the  bleating  of  theu-  flocks.  He 
was  eighteen  years  of  age,  and  repaired  to  Bale  to 
engage  again  in  literary  pm-suits ;  and  thus,  at  ouce 
master  and  pupil,  he  taught  at  the  school  of  St.  Martin, 
aud  studied  at  the  university;  from  this  time  he  was  able 
to  dispense  with  assistance  fi-om  his  father.  Shortly 
after,  he  took  the  degree  of  Master  of  Arts.  An  Alsa- 
tian, named  Capito,  nine  years  older  than  he,  was  one 
of  his  best  friends. 

Zwingle  devoted  himself  to  the  study  of  scholastic 
theology;  for,  being  called  one  day  to  combat  its 
sophisms,  he  behoved  to  explore  its  obscure  labyrinth. 
But  the  light-hearted  student  of  the  mouutaius  of 
Sentis  was  often  seeu  suddenly  to  shake  off  tlie  dust  of 
the  school,  and,  substituting  amusement  for  his  philo- 
sophic toils,  seize  the  lute,  or  the  harp,  or  the  violiu, 
or  the  flute,  or  the  tympanon,  or  the  cornet,  or  the  hunt- 
ing horn,  extract  joyous  sounds  from  these  instruments 
as  iu  the  praii-ies  of  Lisigliaus,  aud  make  his  lodgings, 
or  the  dwellings  of  his  friends,  re-echo  with  the  airs  of 
his  country,  accompanying  them  with  his  voice.  In 
regard  to  music,  he  was  a  true  child  of  the  Tocken- 
burg,  superior  to  all.  In  addition  to  the  instruments 
we  have  already  named,  he  played  several  others.  An 
enthusiast  in  the  art,  he  diffused  a  taste  for  it  in  the 
university, — not  from  any  desu-e  of  dissipation,  but  be- 


WITTEMBACH— LEO  JUDA— ZWINGLE— SCHINNER. 


cause  he  loved  tlius  to  relax  his  mind  when  fatigued  by 
serious  study,  and  fit  liinisclf  for  returning  with  greater 
zeal  to  dilhcult  labours.  Koiie  hud  a  gayer  humour,  a 
more  amiable  disposition,  or  more  engaging  converea- 
tion.  lie  was  a  vigorous  Alpine  tree,  which  developed 
itself  in  all  its  gracefulness  and  strength,  and  which, 
never  having  been  pruned,  threw  out  strong  branches 
in  all  dh-ections.  The  time  was  coming  when  these 
branches  would  turn  vigorously  in  the  directiou  of 
heaven. 

After  he  had  forced  an  entrance  into  scholastic  theo- 
logy', he  left  its  arid  tracts  fatigued  and  disgusted, 
having  found  uothing  in  it  but  confused  ideas,  vain 
babbling,  vain  glory,  barbarism,  and  not  one  sound 
idea  of  doctrine.  ''  It  is  only  a  loss  of  time,"  said  he, 
and  waited  for  something  better. 

At  this  time  (Xovember,  1505)  arrived  at  B;'do 
Thomas  "Wittembach,  son  of  a  burgomaster  of  Bicnne. 
Wittembach  Iiad,  till  then,  taught  at  Tubingen,  side  by 
side  with  Reuclilin.  lie  was  in  the  vigour  of  life,  sin- 
cere, pious,  skilled  in  the  liberal  arts,  and  mathematics, 
and  well  acHpuiiiited  with  the  Holy  Scriptures.  Zwiuglo 
and  all  the  academic  youth  immediately  flocked  around 
him.  A  spirit  hitherto  unknown  animated  his  lectures, 
and  proplictic  words  escaped  from  his  lips :  "  The  time 
is  not  distant,"  said  he,  "  when  scholastic  theology  will 
be  abolished,  and  the  ancient  doctrine  of  the  Church 
restored."  "  The  death  of  Christ,"  added  he,  "  is  the 
only  ransom  of  our  souls."  The  heart  of  Zwingle 
eagerly  received  these  seeds  of  life.  At  this  period 
classical  studies  began  everyn'here  to  supplant  the 
scholastics  of  the  Middle  Ages.  Zwingle,  like  his  pre- 
ceptors and  friends,  tlirew  himself  into  this  new  course. 

Among  the  students  who  followed  the  lessons  of  the 
new  teacher  with  the  greatest  enthusiasm  was  a  young 
man  of  twenty-tliree,  of  small  stature,  and  a  feeble 
sickly  appearance,  but  whose  eye  bespoke  at  once 
gentleness  and  intrepidity.  This  was  Leo  Juda,  son 
of  an  Alsatian  curate,  and  whose  uncle  had  fallen  at 
Ivhodos,  llgliting  in  defence  of  Christendom,  under  the 
standard  of  the  Teutonic  knights.  Leo  and  Ulrich 
were  on  intimate  terms.  Leo  played  the  tympanon, 
and  had  a  very  fine  voice.  The  joyous  melodies  of  the 
young  friends  of  the  arts  were  often  heard  in  his  lodg- 
ings. Leo  Juda,  at  a  later  period,  became  the  colleague 
of  Zwingle,  and  even  death  could  not  destroy  their 
sacred  friendship. 

At  this  time  the  office  of  pastor  of  Glaris  having  be- 
come vacant,  Henri  Goldli,  a  young  courtier  of  the  pope, 
and  gi-oom  of  the  stable  to  his  hoUness,  obtained  the 
appointment  from  his  master,  and  hastened  with  it  to 
Glaris.  But  the  Glarian  shepherds,  proud  of  the  anti- 
quity of  then*  race,  and  of  their  battles  for  freedom, 
Avere  not  disposed  to  bow  implicitly  to  a  piece  of  parch- 
ment from  Kome.  Wildhaus  is  not  far  from  Glaris ; 
and  Wesen,  where  Zivingle's  uncle  was  curate,  is  the 
place  where  the  market  of  the  district  is  held.  The 
reputation  of  the  young  master  of  arts  of  B;"de  had 
penetrated  even  into  these  mountains ;  and  the  Glariaus, 
wishing  to  have  him  for  their  priest,  gave  him  a  call  in 
1506.  Zwingle  having  been  ordained  at  Constance  by 
the  bishop,  preached  his  first  sermon  at  Kapperswil, 
read  his  first  mass  at  AVildhaus  on  St.  Michael's  day, 
in  presence  of  all  his  relations  and  the  friends  of  his 


family,  and  towards 
Glaris. 


close  of  the  year  arrived  at 


CHAPTER  HL 

Love  of  War— Schlnnor— Pension  from  tlio  Pope— The  LabjTinth— Zwingle 
in  lUIy — Principle  of  Reform — Zwingle  and  Luther — Zwingle  and 
Erasmus— Zwingle  and  the  Elders— Palis  and  Glaris. 

Z^viNGLE  immediately  engaged  in  the  zealous  discharge 
of  the  work  which  his  vast  parish  imposed  upon  him. 
Still  he  was  only  twenty-two  j'cars  of  age,  and  often 
allowed  himself  to  be  carried  away  by  the  dissipation 
and  lax  ideas  of  his  age.  A  priest  of  Rome,  he  was 
like  tiie  other  priests  around  him.  But  even  at  this 
period,  thougli  tlie  evangelical  doctrine  had  not 
changed  his  heart,  Zwingle  did  not  give  way  to  those 
scandals  which  frequently  afflicted  the  Church.  He 
always  felt  the  need  of  subjecting  his  passions  to  the 
holy  ride  of  the  Gospel. 

A  love  of  war  at  this  time  inflamed  the  quiet  valleys 
of  Glaris,  where  there  were  families  of  heroes, — tlic 
Tschudis,  the  "Walas,  the  JEblis,  whose  blood  had 
flowed  on  the  field  of  battle.  The  youth  listened  with 
eagerness  to  the  old  wai-riors  when  they  told  them  of 
the  wars  of  Burgundy  and  Swabia,  of  the  battles  of 
St.  James  and  Ragaz.  But,  alas!  it  was  no  longer 
against  the  enemies  of  their  liberties  that  these  warlike 
shepherds  took  up  arms.  They  were  seen,  at  the 
bidding  of  the  kings  of  France,  of  the  emperor,  the 
dukes  of  Milan,  or  the  holy  father  himself,  descending 
from  the  Alps  like  an  avalanche,  and  rushing  with  the 
noise  of  thunder  against  the  troops  drawn  up  in  the 
plain. 

A  poor  boy,  named  Matthew  Schinner,  who  was  at 
the  school  of  Sion,  in  the  Valais,  (it  was  toward  the 
middle  of  the  latter  half  of  the  fifteenth  centui-}',) 
singing  before  the  houses, — as  young  Martin  Luther 
shortly  after  did, — heard  himself  called  by  an  old  man, 
who,  being  struck  with  the  frankness  with  which  the 
child  answered  his  questions,  said  to  him,  with  that 
prophetic  spirit  with  which  man  is  said  to  be  some- 
times endowed  when  on  the  brink  of  the  grave :  "  Thou 
art  to  be  a  bishop  and  a  prince."  The  expression  sunk 
deep  into  the  young  mendicant,  and  from  that  moment 
boundless  ambition  took  possession  of  his  heart.  At 
Zm'ich  and  Conio,  the  progress  he  made  astonished 
his  masters.  Having  become  curate  of  a  small  parish 
in  Valais,  he  rose  rapidly;  and  being  sent,  at  a  later 
period,  to  ask  from  the  pope  the  confirmation  of  a 
bishop  of  Sion,  who  had  just  been  elected,  he  obtained 
the  bishopric  for  himself,  and  girt  his  brow  with  the 
episcopal  mitre.  This  man,  ambitious  and  crafty,  but 
often  noble  and  generous,  always  considered  any  dignity 
bestowed  upon  him  as  only  a  step  destined  to  raise 
him  to  some  still  higher  dignity.  Having  offered  his 
services  to  Louis  XH.,  and  named  his  price,  "  It  is  too 
much  for  one  man,"  said  the  king.  '•  I  will  shew  him," 
replied  the  Bishop  of  Sion,  offended,  "  that  I  am  a  man 
worth  several  men."  In  fact,  he  tm-ned  towards  Pope 
Julius  U.,  who  gladly  received  him ;  and  Schinner 
succeeded,  in  1510,  in  linking  the  whole  Swiss  con- 


HISTORY  OF  THE  EEFORMATION. 


federation  to  the  policy  of  this  ambitious  pontiff.  The 
bishop  having  been  rewarded  with  a  cardinal's  hat, 
smiled  when  he  saw  that  there  was  now  only  one  step 
between  him  and  the  papal  throne. 


LAUSANNE    CATHEDRAL 

Schinner's  eye  was  continually  turned  to  the  cantons 
of  .Switzerland,  and  as  soon  as  he  theie  disceiucd  any 
man  of  influence,  he  hastened  to  attach  him  to  himself. 
The  pastor  of  Glaris  drew  his  attention,  and  Zwingle 
soon  received  intimation  that  the  pope  had  granted 
him  an  annual  pension  of  fifty  florins,  to  encourage 
him  in  the  cultivation  of  letters.  His  poverty  did  not 
allow  him  to  purchase  books ;  and  the  money,  during 
the  short  time  that  Ulrich  received  it,  was  devoted  to 
the  purchase  of  classical  or  theological  works,  which 
he  procured  from  Bale.  Zwingle  was  now  connected 
with  the  cardinal,  and  accordingly  joined  the  Roman 
party.  Schinner  and  Julius  II.  at  last  disclosed  the 
end  which  they  had  in  view  in  these  intrigues.  Eight 
thousand  Swiss,  mustered  by  the  eloquence  of  the 
cardinal-archbishop,  passed  the  Alps;  but  famine, 
war,  and  French  gold,  obliged  them  to  return  to  their 
mountains  without  glory.  They  brought  back  the 
iisnal  results  of  these  foreign  wars, — distrust,  licen- 
tiousness, party  spirit,  all  sorts  of  violence  and  disorder. 
Citizens  refused  to  obey  their  magistrates,  and  children 
their  parents ;  agriculture  and  the  care  of  their  flocks 
were  neglected ;  luxury  and  mendicity  kept  pace  with 
each  other;  the  most  sacred  ties  were  broken;  and 
the  confederation  seemed  on  the  point  of  being  dis- 
solved. 

The  eyes  of  the  young  curate  of  Glaris  were  now 
opened,  and  his  indignation  aroused.  He  raised  his 
voice  aloud,  to  warn  them  of  the  abyss  into  which  they 
were  about  to  fall.  In  1510,  he  published  his  poem, 
entitled  "The  Labyrinth."  Behind  the  windings  of 
this  mysterious  garden,  IMinos  has  hidden  the  Mino- 
taur, that  monster,  half -man  half-buU,  whom  he  feeds 
on  the  flesh  of  young  Athenians.  "The  Minotaur, 
.     .  in  other  words,"   says   Zwingle,   "sin,  vice, 


irreligion,  and  the  foreign  servico  of  the  Swiss,"  devour 
the  sons  of  his  countrymen. 

Theseus,  a  man  of  courage,  wishes  to  deliver  his 
country ;  but  numerous  obstacles  arrest  him : — first,  a 
lion  with  one  eye ;  this  is  Spain  and  Ajrragon ; — then 
a  crowned  eagle,  whose  throat  is  opened  to  devour  it ; 
this  is  the  empire ; — then  a  cock,  with  his  comb  up, 
and  calling  for  battle ;  this  is  France.  The  hero  sur- 
mounts aU  these  obstacles,  gets  up  to  the  monster, 
stabs  it,  and  saves  his  country. 

"So  now,"  exclaims  the  poet,  "men  wander  in  a 
labyrinth ;  but  having  no  thread  to  guide  them,  they 
cannot  regain  the  light.  Nowhere  is  there  any  imi- 
tation of  Jesus  Christ.  A  little  glory  makes  us  hazard 
our  life,  torment  our  neighbour,  rush  into  strife,  war, 
and  combat.  .  .  .  One  would  say  that  the  fm'ies 
have  escaped  from  the  depths  of  hell." 

A  Theseus — a  reformer,  was  required.    Zwingle  per- 
ceived this,  and  thenceforth  had  a  presentiment  of  his 
mission.    Not  long  after,  he  composed  an  allegory  with     ' 
a  still  clearer  application. 


In  April,  1512,  the  coufeduratcs  arose  anew  at  the 
bidding  of  the  cardinal,  for  the  deliverance  of  the 
Church.  Glaris  was  in  the  foremost  rank.  The  whole 
popidation  was  brought  into  the  field,  ranged  round 
their  banner  with  their  laudaman  and  their  pastor. 
Zwingle  behoved  to  march.  The  army  passed  the 
Alps;  and  the  cardinal  appeared  amidst  the  con- 
federates with  the  presents  given  him  by  the  pope, — 
a  ducal  hat  adorned  with  pearls  and  gold,  and  sur- 
mounted by  the  Holy  Spirit,  represented  under  the 
form  of  a  dove.  The  Swiss  escaladed  the  fortresses 
and  towns,  svi^am  rivers  in  the  presence  of  the  enemy, 
unclothed,  and  with  halberds  in  their  hands;  the 
French  were  everywhere  put  to  flight;  bells  and 
trumpets  resounded,  and  the  population  flocked  from 
all  quarters ;  the  nobles  supplied  the  army  with  wine 
and  fruits  in  abundance ;  the  monks  and  priests 
mounted  on  platforms,  and  proclauued,  that  the  con- 


ZWINGLE  AND  LUTHER. 


221 


federates  were  the  people  of  God,  taking  vengeance  on 
the  enemies  of  the  Lord's  spouse ;  and  the  pope  be- 
coming prophet,  like  Caiaphas  of  old,  gave  tlio  con- 
federates the  title  of  "  Defenders  of  the  Liberty  of  the 
Church." 

This  sojourn  of  Zwinglc  in  Italy  was  not  without  its 
effect  in  roferonco  to  his  vocation  of  rofornier.  On 
ids  return  from  this  campaign  he  began  to  study 
Greek,  "in  order,"  says  he,  "to  be  able  to  draw  the 
doctrine  of  Jesus  Christ  from  the  very  fountain  of 
truth."  Writing  to  Vadian,  23rd  February,  1513,  he 
says :  "  I  have  resolved  so  to  apply  myself  to  tlie  study 
of  Greek,  that  none  will  be  able  to  turn  me  from  it 
but  God.  I  do  it  not  for  fame,  but  from  love  to  sacred 
literature."  At  a  later  period,  a  wortliy  priest,  who 
had  been  his  school  companion,  liaving  come  to  pay 
him  a  visit,  said  to  him  :  '•  Master  Ulricli,  I  am  assured 
that  you  are  tainted  with  the  new  heresy — that  you  are 
a  Lutheran."  "  I  am  not  a  Lutheran,"  said  Zwinglo, 
"for  I  knew  Greek  before  I  heard  of  the  name  of 
Luther."  To  know  Greek,  to  study  the  Gospel  in  the 
original  tongue,  was,  according  to  Zwingle,  the  basis 
of  the  Refoi-mation. 

Zwingle  did  more  than  recognise,  at  this  early  period, 
the  great  principle  of  evangelical  Christianity — the 
infallible  authority  of  the  Holy  Scriptures.  Besides 
tliis,  he  understood  how  the  meaning  of  the  Divine 
AV^ord  ought  to  be  ascertained.  "Tliose,"  said  he, 
"  have  a  very  grovelling  idea  of  the  Scriptures,  who 
regard  whatever  seems  to  them  at  variance  with  their 
own  reason  as  frivolous,  vain,  and  unjust.  Men  have 
no  right  to  bind  the  Gospel  at  pleasure  to  their  own 
sense  and  their  own  interpretation."  "  Zwingle  raised 
his  eye  to  lieavon,"  said  liis  dearest  friend,  " unwilling 
to  have  any  other  interpreter  tlian  the  Holy  Spirit 
himself." 

vSuch,  from  the  commencement  of  his  career,  was 
the  man  whom  some  have  not  scrupled  to  represent  as 
having  wished  to  subject  the  Bible  to  human  reason. 
"Philosophy  and  theology,"  said  he,  "cease  not  to 
raise  up  objections  against  me.  I,  at  length,  arrived 
at  this  conclusion :  '  We  must  leave  all  these  things, 
and  seek  our  knowledge  of  God  only  in  His  Word.' 
I  began,"  continues  he,  "  earnestly  to  supplicate  the 
Lord  to  give  me  His  light ;  and  though  I  read  only  the 
text  of  Scripture,  it  became  far  clearer  to  me  than  if  I 
had  read  a  host  of  commentators."  Comparing  the 
Scriptures  with  themselves,  and  explaining  passages  that 
were  obscure  by  such  as  were  more  clear,  he  soon  had 
a  thorough  knowledge  of  the  Bible,  especially  the  New 
Testament.  AVlieu  Zwingle  thus  turned  toward  the 
Holy  Scriptures,  Switzerland  took  her  first  step  in  the 
RefoiTnation.  Accordingl}',  when  he  expounded  the 
Scriptures,  e\ery  one  felt  that  his  lessons  came  from 
God,  and  not  from  man.  "  Work  all  divine  ! "  here 
exclaims  Oswald  Myconius ;  "  thus  was  the  knowledge 
of  heavenly  truth  restored  to  us ! " 

Zwingle  did  not,  however,  despise  the  expositions  of 
the  most  celebrated  doctors.  At  a  later  period  he 
studied  Origen,  Ambrose,  Jerome,  Augustine,  Chry- 
sostom  ;  but  not  as  authorities.  "  I  study  the  doctors," 
says  he,  "  with  the  same  feelings  with  which  one  asks 
a  friend,  'What  do  you  undei-stand  by  this?'"  The 
Holy  Scripture  was,  according  to  him,  the  touchstone 


by  which  the  most  holy  of  the  doctors  were  themselves 
to  be  tested. 

Zwingle's  step  was  slow,  but  progressive.  Ho  did 
not  come  to  the  truth,  like  Luther,  amid  those  tempests 
which  compel  the  soul  to  seek  a  speedy  shelter.  He 
arrived  at  it  by  the  peaceful  influence  of  Scripture, 
whose  power  gradually  gains  upon  tlie  heart.  Luther 
reached  the  wished-for  shore  across  the  billows  of  tlie 
boundless  deep ;  Zwingle,  by  allowing  himself  to  glide 
along  the  stream.  These  are  the  two  principal  ways 
by  which  God  leads  men.  Zwingle  was  not  fully  con- 
verted to  God  and  His  Gospel  till  the  tirst  period  of 
his  sojourn  at  Zurich;  yet,  in  1511  or  1515,  at  the 
moment  when  the  strouL'  iniin  b<  l'iiii  to  bend  the  knee 
to  God,  praying  for  tlir  uml.  i-i;iiiiiiiig  of  His  Word, 
the  rays  of  that  pure  liulil  l>y  \\lii(li  ho  was  afterwards 
illumined  first  began  to  gleaiu  uiion  him. 

At  this  period  a  poem  of  Erasmus,  iu  which  Jesus 
Christ  Wiis  introduced  addressing  man  as  perishing  by 
his  own  fault,  made  a  powerful  impression  on  Zwingle. 
When  alone  in  his  study,  he  repoatod  the  passage  in 
which  Jesus  complains  that  all  grace  is  not  sought 
from  Him,  though  He  is  the  source  of  all  that  is  good. 
"All!"  said  Zwingle,  "all!"  And  this  word  was 
incessantly  present  to  his  mind.  "Are  there,  then, 
creatures,  saints,  from  whom  we  ought  to  ask  assist- 
ance?    No!     Clirist  is  our  only  treasure." 


Zwingle  did  not  confine  his  reading  to  Christian 
wi-itings.  One  of  the  distinguishing  characteristics  of 
the  sixteenth  century,  is  the  profound  study  of  the 
Greek  and  Eoman  authors.  The  poetry  of  Hesiod, 
Homer,  Pindar,  enraptured  him ;  and  he  has  left  us 
commentaries,  or  characteristics,  on  the  two  last  poets. 
It  seemed  to  him  that  Pindar  spoke  of  his  gods  in  such 
sublime  strains,  that  he  must  have  had  some  presenti- 
ment of  the  true  God.  He  studied  Cicero  and  Demos- 
thenes thoroughly,  and  learned  from  them  both  the  art 


222 


HISTOEY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


of  the  orator  aud  the  duties  of  the  citizen.  He  called 
Seneca  a  holy  man.  The  Swiss  mountaineer  loved  also 
to  initiate  himself  in  the  mysteries  of  nature,  through 
the  writiugs  of  Pliny.  Thucydides,  Sallust,  Livy, 
Cresar,  Suetonius,  Plutarch,  aud  Tacitus,  taught  him 
to  know  the  world.  He  has  been  censured  for  his  en- 
thusiastic admimtion  of  the  great  men  of  antiquity,  and 
it  is  true  that  some  of  his  observations  on  this  subject 
cannot  bo  defended.  But  if  he  honoured  them  so  much, 
it  was  because  he  thought  ho  saw  in  them  not  human 
virtues,  but  the  influence  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  The 
agency  of  God,  far  from  confining  itself  to  ancient 
times  within  the  limits  of  Palestine,  extended,  accord- 
ing to  him,  to  the  whole  world.  "Plato,"  said  he, 
'•  has  also  drunk  at  the  Divine  source.  And  if  the 
two  Catos,  if  Camillus,  if  Scipio,  had  not  been  truly 
religious,  would  they  have  been  so  magnanimous  ?  " 

Zwingle  diffused  around  him  a  love  of  letters.  Seve- 
ral choice  youths  were  trained  in  his  school.  "  You 
offered  me  not  only  books,  but  also  yourself,"  wrote 
Valentino  Tschudi,  sou  of  one  of  the  heroes  of  the  wars 
of  Burgundy;  and  this  young  man,  who  at  that  time 
had  already  studied  at  Vienna  and  Bale,  under  the 
most  celebrated  teachers,  adds :  "  I  have  never  met 
with  any  one  who  explained  the  Classics  with  so  much 
precision  and  profundity  as  yourself."  Tschudi  re- 
paired to  Paris,  and  was  able  to  compare  the  spirit 
which  prevailed  in  that  university  with  that  which  he 
had  found  in  the  narrow  Alpine  valley,  over  which 
impend  the  gigantic  peaks  and  eternal  snows  of  the 
Dodi,  the  Glaruisch,  the  Viggis,  and  the  Freyberg. 
"How  frivolously,"  says  he,  "the  Froncli  youth  are 
educated!  No  poison  is  so  bad  as  (Ih-  >o|.lii,-tir:il  art 
in  which  they  are  trained, — an  art  whirh  >iii|.iiir^  the 
senses,  destroys  the  judgment,  brutilics  iIkj  -whole  num. 
Man  is  thenceforth,  like  the  echo,  an  empty  sound. 
Ten  women  coidd  not  keep  pace  with  one  of  these 
rhetoricians.  In  their  prayers  even  they  present  their 
sophisms  to  God,  (I  know  the  fact,)  and  pretend,  by 
their  syllogisms,  to  constrain  the  Holy  Spirit  to  hear 
them."  Such,  then,  were  Paris  aud  Glaris, — the  in- 
tellectual metropolis  of  Christendom,  and  a  village  of 
Alpine  shepherds.  A  ray  of  tlie  Divine  Word  gives 
more  light  than  all  himian  wisdom. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Zwingle  in  regard  to  Erasmus— Oswald  Myoonius— The  Vagrants— CEcolam- 
liadius— Zwingle  at  Marignan— Zwingle  and  Italy— Method  of  Zwingle— 
Conimeucemeut  of  Reform — Discovery, 

A  GHEAT  man  of  this  age,  Erasmus,  had  much  influence 
on  Zwingle,  who,  as  soon  as  any  of  his  writings  ap- 
peared, lost  no  time  in  procviring  it.  In  1514,  Eras- 
mus had  arrived  at  Bille,  and  been  received  by  the 
bishop  with  marks  of  high  esteem.  All  the  friends  of 
letters  had  immediately  grouped  around  him.  But  the 
monarch  of  the  schools  had  no  difficulty  in  singling  out 
him  who  Avas  to  be  the  glory  of  Switzerland.  "  I  con- 
gratulate  the   Swiss   nation,"  wrote  he   to   Zwingle, 


"  that  by  yoiu'  studies  and  your  manners,  both  alike 
excellent,  yoxi  labour  to  polish  and  elevate  them." 
Zwingle  had  a  most  ardent  desire  to  see  him.  "  Spani- 
ards and  Gauls  went  to  Rome  to  see  Titus  Livy,"  said 
he.  He  set  out,  and  on  arriving  at  Bale,  found  a  per- 
sonage of  about  forty  years  of  age,  of  small  stature,  a 
frail  body,  a  delicate  look,  but  a  remarkably  amiable 
aud  winning  address.  It  was  Erasmus.  His  affability 
removed  the  timidity  of  Zwingle,  while  the  power  of 
his  intellect  overawed  him.  "Poor,"  said  Illrich  to 
him,  "  as  iEschines,  when  each  of  the  scholars  of 
Socrates  offered  a  present  to  his  master,  I  give  you 
what  iEschines  gave — I  give  you  myself." 

Among  the  literary  men  who  formed  the  coiu-t  of 
Erasmus — the  Amerbachs,  the  Rhenaus,  the  Frobe- 
niuses,  the  Nessens,  the  Glareans — Zwingle  observed 
a  youth  from  Lucerne,  of  twenty-seven  years  of  age, 
named  Oswald  Geisshiisler.  Erasmus,  hellonizing  his 
name,  had  called  him  Myconius.  We  will  often  desig- 
nate him  by  his  surname,  to  distinguish  the  friend  of 
Zwingle  from  Frederick  Myconius,  the  disciple  of 
Luther.  Oswald,  after  studj-ing  first  at  Rothwyl  with 
Berthold  Haller,  a  young  man  of  his  own  age,  next 
at  Berne,  and  lastly  at  Bide,  had,  in  this  last  town,  been 
appointed  rector  of  the  school  of  St.  Theodoret,  aud 
afterwards  of  that  of  St.  Peter.  The  humble  school- 
master had  a  very  limited  income ;  but,  notwithstand- 
ing, had  married  a  young  girl  of  a  simplicity  and  purity 
of  soul  which  won  all  hearts.  We  have  already  seen 
that  Switzerland  was  then  in  a  troubled  state,  foreign 
wars  having  stirred  up  violent  disorders,  and  the  sol- 
diers having  brought  back  to  their  country  licentious- 
ness and  brutality.  One  dark  and  cloudy  winter  day 
some  of  these  rude  men,  in  Oswald's  absence,  attacked 
his  quiet  dwelling.  They  knocked  at  the  door,  threw 
stones,  and  applied  the  grossest  expressions  to  his 
modest  spouse.  At  last  they  bm-st  open  the  windows, 
and  having  forced  their  way  into  the  school  aud  broken 
everything  to  pieces,  made  off.  Oswald  arrived  shortly 
after.  His  little  boy,  Felix,  ran  out  to  meet  him  cry- 
ing, while  his  wife,  unable  to  speak,  shewed  signs 
of  the  greatest  terror.  He  understood  what  had  hap- 
pened, and  at  that  moment,  hearing  a  noise  in  the 
street,  unable  to  restrain  himself,  he  seized  a  musket, 
aud  pursued  the  villains  as  far  as  the  burying-ground. 
They  retreated,  intending  to  defend  themselves.  Three 
of  them  rushed  upon  Myconius  aud  wounded  him ; 
and  while  his  wound  was  being  dressed,  these 
wretches  again  attacked  his  house,  uttering  cries  of 
fury.  Oswald  says  no  more  of  the  matter.  Such 
scenes  frequently  occurred  in  Switzerland  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  sixteenth  centur}',  before  the  Reformation 
had  softened  and  disciplined  manners. 

The  integrity  of  Oswald  Myconius,  his  thirst  for 
science  and  virtue,  brought  him  into  connection  with 
Zwingle.  The  rector  of  the  school  of  B;lle  was  aUvc 
to  all  that  was  grand  in  the  curate  of  Glaris.  Full  of 
humility,  he  shunned  the  praises  bestowed  upon  him 
by  Zwingle  and  Erasmus.  "  You  schoolmasters,"  often 
said  the" latter,  "I  esteem  as  highly  as  I  do  kings." 
But  the  modest  Myconius  did  not  think  so.  "  I  only 
crawl  along  the  ground,"  said  he.  "From  infancy  I 
had  always  a  feeling  of  littleness  and  humility." 

A  preacher  who  had  arrived  at  Bale  about  the  same 


ZWINGLE  AT  l^IAEIGNAN. 


time  as  ZwiiiD;lc  was  attracting  attention.  Of  a  mild 
and  pacific  disposition,  ho  led  a  tranquil  life;  slow  and 
cirenmspcct  in  coiidiict,  liis  cliii^f  pleasure  was  to  labour 
in  his  study,  and  ])roduce  concord  nnioinr  Christians, 
lie  was  named  John  Ilaussdiein,  in  Greel<,  0'>()lam- 
padius, — that  is,  "liarht  of  the  liuuso," — and  was  born 
of  wealthy  parents  in  Franconia,  a  year  before  Zwingle. 
His  pious  mother  longed  to  consecrate  to  literature  and 
to  God  tlic  old  child  whom  He  had  left  her.  The 
father  intended  liini  first  for  a  mercantile  life,  then 
for  law.  15ut  as  (lilcolampadius  was  returning  from 
Bologna,  where  he  had  been  studying  law,  the  Lord, 
■who  designed  to  make  him  a  lamp  in  the  Church, 
called  him  to  tlie  study  of  theology.  He  was  preaching 
in  his  native  town  when  Cupito,  who  had  known  him 
at  Heidelberg,  procured  liis  appointment  as  preacher  at 
Bfdc.  There  ho  proclaimed  Christ  with  an  eloquence 
which  filled  his  hearers  with  admiration.  Erasmus 
admitted  him  to  his  intimacy.  G^colamj)adius  was  en- 
raptured with  the  hours  which  he  spent  in  the  society 
of  this  great  genius.  "In  the  Holy  Scriptures,"  said 
the  prince  of  literature,  "  one  thing  only  ought  to  be 
souglit, — viz.,  Jesus  Christ."  As  a  memento  of  his 
friendship,  he  gave  the  young  preacher  the  commence- 
ment of  John's  Gospel.  Q^colampadius  often  kissed 
this  ])recious  pledge  of  affection,  and  kept  it  suspended 
to  liis  crucilix.  '•  in  order,"  said  he,  "  that  I  may  always 
remeniber  ICrasnius  in  my  prayers." 

Zwingle  returned  to  his  mountains,  his  mind  and 
heart  full  of  all  that  he  had  seen  and  heard  at  Bale. 
"  1  could  not  sleep,"  wrote  he  to  Erasmus,  shortly  after 
his  return,  "if  I  had  not  convei'sed  for  some  time  with 
you.  There  is  nothing  of  which  I  boast  so  much  as  of 
having  seen  Erasmus.  Zwingle  had  received  a  new 
impidsc.  Such  journeys  often  exercise  a  great  influ- 
ence over  the  career  of  the  Christian.  The  discijjles 
of  Zwingle — Valentin,  Jost,  Louis  Peter,  and  vEgidius 
Tschudi ;  his  friends — the  landamman  ^Ebli,  the  curate 
Binzli  of  Wesen,  Fridolia  Brunnen,  and  the  celebrated 
professor  Glareau — saw,  with  admiration,  how  he  grew 
in  wsdom  and  knowledge.  The  old  honoured  him  as  a 
courageous  servant  of  his  country,  and  faithfiU  pastors 
honoured  him  as  a  faitliful  scr\  ant  of  the  Lord.  No- 
thing was  done  in  the  district  without  taking  his  advice. 
All  the  good  hoped  that  he  would  one  day  restore  the 
ancient  virtue  of  the  Swiss. 

Francis  I.  having  mounted  the  throne,  and  being 
desirous  to  vindicate  the  honour  of  the  French  name 
in  Italy,  the  jiope,  in  alarm,  labom-ed  to  gain  the  can- 
tons. Accordingly,  in  1515,  Ulrich  revisited  the  plains 
of  Italy  amid  the  phalanxes  of  his  fellow-citizens.  But 
the  division  which  French  intrigues  produced  in  the 
army  stung  him  to  the  heart.  He  was  often  seen  in 
the  middle  of  the  camp  energetically,  and  at  the  same 
time  wisely,  haranguing  his  hearers  in  full  armour 
ready  for  battle.  On  the  8th  September,  live  days  be- 
fore the  battle  of  Marignan,  he  preached  in  the  public 
square  of  Monza,  where  the  Swiss  soldiers  who  re- 
mained true  to  their  colours  had  reassembled.  "  Had 
the  counsels  of  Zwingle  been  followed  then  and  after- 
wards," says  Werner  Steiner  of  Zug,  "  what  evils  would 
not  our  country  have  been  saved ! "  But  all  ears  were 
shut  to  words  of  concord,  prudence,  and  submission. 
The  vehement  eloquence  of  Cardinal  Schinner  electri- 


fied the  confederates,  and  hurried  them  impetuously  to 
the  fatal  field  of  Mai-iguan.  There  fell  the  flower  of 
the  Helvetic  youth.  Zwingle,  who  had  l)een  unable 
to  prevent  all  these  disasters,  threw  himself,  for  the 
cause  of  Rome,  into  the  midst  of  danger.  His  hand 
seized  the  sword.  Sad  error  of  Zwingle !  A  minister 
of  Christ,  he  more  than  once  forgot  that  it  was  his 
duty  to  fight  only  with  spiritual  weapons ;  and  he  was 
to  see  in  his  own  person  a  striking  fulfilment  of  our 
Saviour's  prophecy:  He  tvho  takes  t/te  sicord  skull  jxrish 
hi)  the  sword. 

Zwingle  and  his  Swiss  had  been  unable  to  save 
Rome.  The  ambassador  of  Venice  was  the  first  in  the 
pontifical  city  who  received  news  of  the  defeat  at 
Marignan.  lielighted,  he  repaired  at  an  early  hour  to 
the  Vatican.  The  pope  came  out  of  his  apartment 
half-dressed  to  give  him  an  .audience.  Leo  X.,  on 
learning  the  news,  did  not  disguise  his  terror.  At  this 
moment  of  alarm  he  saw  only  Francis  I.,  and  hoped 
only  in  him.  "  Ambassador,"  said  he,  trembling,  to 
Zorsi,  "  we  must  throw  ourselves  into  the  arms  of  the 
king,  and  cry  for  mercy."  Luther  and  Zwingle,  in  their 
danger,  knew  another  arm,  and  invoked  another  merev. 

This  second  sojourn  in  Italy  was  not  without  use  to 
Zwingle.  He  observed  the  differences  between  the 
Ambrosian  ritual  used  at  Milan  and  that  of  Rome. 
He  collected  and  compared  together  the  most  ancient 
canons  of  the  mass.  In  this  way  a  spirit  of  inquiry 
was  developed  in  him  even  amid  the  tumult  of  camps. 
At  the  same  time  the  sight  of  his  countrjnnen  led  av>-ay 
beyond  the  Alps,  and  given  up,  like  cattle,  to  the  slaugh- 
ter, filled  him  with  indignation.  "  The  flesh  of  the  con- 
federates," it  was  said,  "is  cheaper  than  that  of  their 
oxen  and  their  calves."  The  disloyalty  and  ambition 
of  the  pope,  the  avarice  and  ignorance  of  the  priests, 
the  licentiousness  and  dissipation  of  the  monks,  the 
pride  and  luxury  of  prelates,  the  corruption  and  venality 
employed  on  all  hands  to  win  the  Swiss,  being  forced 
on  his  view  more  strongly  than  ever,  made  him  still 
more  alive  to  the  necessity  of  a  reform  in  the  Church. 

From  this  time  Zwingle  preached  the  Word  of  God 
more  clearly.  In  explaining  the  portions  of  the  Gospel 
and  epistles  selected  for  public  worship,  he  alwavs 
compared  Scripture  with  Scripture.  He  spoke  with 
animation  and  force,  and  followed  with  his  hearers 
the  same  course  which  God  was  following  with  him. 
He  did  not,  like  Luther,  proclaim  the  sores  of  the 
Church ;  but  as  often  as  the  study  of  the  Bible  sug- 
gested some  useful  instruction  to  himself,  he  communi- 
cated it  to  his  hearers.  He  tried  to  make  them  receive 
the  truth  into  their  hearts,  and  then  trusted  to  it  for 
the  works  which  it  behoved  to  produce.  "  If  they 
understand  what  is  true,"  thought  he,  "  they  will 
discern  what  is  false."  This  maxim  is  good  at  the 
commencement  of  a  reformation ;  but  a  time  comes 
when  error  must  be  boldly  stigmatized.  This  Zwingle 
knew  very  well.  "The  spring,"  said  he,  "is  the 
season  to  sow ; "  and  with  him  it  w'as  now  spring. 

Zwingle  has  marked  out  this  period  (151G)  as  the 
commencement  of  the  Smss  Reformation.  In  fact  if, 
foiu-  years  before,  he  had  bent  his  head  over  the  AVord 
of  God,  he  now  raised  it,  and  turned  it  towards  his 
people,  to  make  them  share  in  the  light  which  he  had 
found.     This  forms  a  new  and  important  epoch  in  the 


224 


HISTORY  OF  THE  EEFOEMATION. 


history  of  the  development  of  the  religious  revolution 
of  tliose  countries;  but  it  has  been  erroneously  con- 
cluded from  these  dates,  that  the  Reformation  of 
Zwiugle  preceded  that  of  Luther.  It  may  be  that 
Zwingle  preached  the  Gospel  a  year  before  Luther's 
theses ;  but  Luther  himself  preached  it  four  years 
before  these  famous  propositions.  Had  Luther  and 
Zwingle  contined  themselves  merely  to  sermons,  the 
Reformation  would  not  have  so  quickly  gained  ground 
in  the  Church.  Neither  Luther  nor  Zwingle  wa.s  the 
first  monk  or  the  first  priest  who  jireached  a  purer 
doctrine  than  that  of  the  schoolmen.  But  Luther  was 
the  first  who  publicly,  and  with  indomitable  courage, 
raised  the  standard  of  truth  against  the  empire  of 
error ;  called  general  attention  to  the  fundamental  doc- 
trine of  the  Gospel — salvation  by  grace  ;  introduced  his 
age  to  that  new  career  of  knowledge,  faith,  and  life, 
out  of  which  a  new  world  has  arisen  ;  in  a  word,  be- 
gan a  true  and  salutary  revolution.  The  gi-eat  struggle, 
of  which  the  theses  of  1517  were  the  signal,  was  truly 
the  birth-throe  of  the  Reformation,  giving  it  at  once 
bot)i  a  body  and  a  soul.  Lutiier  was  the  first 
reformer. 


(ECOLAMPADIUS. 

A  spirit  of  inquiry  began  to  breathe  on  the  moun- 
tains of  Switzerland.  One  day  the  curate  of  Glaris, 
happening  to  be  in  the  smiling  district  of  Mollis,  with 
Adam,  its  curate,  Bunzli,  curate  of  Wesen,  and  Vara- 
chon,  curate  of  Kerensen,  these  friends  discovered  an 
old  liturgy,  in  which  they  read  these  words  :  "  After 
baptising  the  child,  we  give  him  the  sacrament  of 
the  Eucharist  and  the  cup  of  blood."  "Then,"  said 
Zwiugle,  "the  supper  was  at  that  period  dispensed 
in  our  churches  under  the  two  kinds."  The  liturgy 
was  about  two  hundred  years  old.  This  was  a  great 
discovery  for  these  priests  of  the  Alps. 

The  defeat  at  Mariguan  had  important  results  in  the 
interior  of  the  cantons.     The  conqueror,  Francis  L, 


lavished  gold  and  flattery,  in  order  to  gain  the  con- 
federates ;  while  the  emperor  besought  them  by  their 
honour,  by  the  tears  of  widows  and  orphans,  and  the 
blood  of  their  brethren,  not  to  sell  themselves  to  their 
murderers.  The  French  party  gained  the  ascendancy 
at  Glaris,  which,  from  that  time,  was  an  uncomfortable 
residence  to  Ulrich. 

Zwingle,  at  Glaris,  might  perhaps  have  remained  a 
man  of  the  world.  Party  intrigues,  political  questions, 
the  empire,  France,  or  the  Duke  of  Milan,  might  have 
absorbed  his  whole  life.  Those  whom  God  means  to 
prepare  for  great  services,  He  never  leaves  amid  the 
turmoil  of  the  world.  He  leads  them  apart,  and  places 
them  in  a  retreat  where  they  commune  with  Him  and 
their  own  consciences,  and  receive  lessons  never  to  be 
effaced.  The  Son  of  God  himself,  who  in  this  was  a 
type  of  the  training  given  to  His  servants,  spent  forty 
days  in  the  desert.  It  was  time  to  remove  Zwingle 
from  political  movements,  which,  continually  pressing 
upon  his  thoughts,  might  have  banished  the  Spirit  of 
God  from  them.  It  was  time  to  train  him  for  another 
stage  than  that  on  which  courtiers,  cabinets,  and 
parties  move,  and  where  he  should  liave  wasted  powers 
worthy  of  nobler  employment.  His  country,  indeed, 
needed  something  else.  It  was  necessary  that  a  new 
life  should  now  come  down  from  heaven,  aud  that  he 
who  was  to  be  the  instrument  in  communicating  it, 
should  unlearn  worldly  things,  in  order  to  learn  things 
above.  The  two  spheres  are  entu-ely  distinct ;  a  wide 
space  separates  these  two  worlds ;  and  before  passing 
entirely  from  the  one  to  the  other,  Zwingle  was  to 
sojourn  for  a  time  on  neutral  ground,  in  a  kind  of 
intermediate  and  preparatory  state,  to  be  there  taught 
of  God.  God,  accordingly,  took  him  away  from  the 
factions  of  Glaris,  and,  with  a  view  to  this  noviciate, 
placed  him  in  the  solitude  of  a  hermitage — confining 
within  the  narrow  walls  of  aj  abbey  this  noble  germ 
of  the  Reformation,  which  was  shortly  after  to  be 
transplanted  to  a  better  soil,  and  cover  the  mountains 
with  its  shadow. 


CHAPTER  V. 

lleinrad  of  Holienzullem-Our  Laily  of  EinsiiUen— Calling  of  Zwingle— The 
Abbot— Geroldsek— Companionship  in  Study— The  Bible  Copied— 
Zwingle  and  Superstition  —  First  Opposition  to  Error- Sensation — 
Hedio— Zwingle  and  the  Legates— The  Honours  of  Rome— The  Bishop 
of  Constance— Samson  and  Indulgences— Stapfcr—Chai-ity  of  Zwingle 
— His  Friends. 

Meinrad  of  Hohenzollern,  a  German  monk,  about  the 
middle  of  the  ninth  century,  wandering  on  till  he  came 
between  the  lakes  of  Zurich  and  Wallenstadt,  had 
stopped  upon  a  hill,  resting  on  an  amphitheatre  of  firs, 
and  there  built  a  cell.  Banditti  imbrued  their  hands 
in  the  blood  of  the  saint.  Tlie  bloody  cell  was  long 
deserted ;  but  towards  the  end  of  the  tenth  century,  a 
convent  and  a  church,  in  honour  of  the  Virgin,  were 
erected  on  the  sacred  spot.  On  the  eve  of  the  day  of 
consecration,  when  the  Bishop  of  Constance  aud  his 
priests  were  at  prayers  in  the  church,  a  celestial  chant, 
proceeding    from    invisible    voices,    suddenly    echoed 


ZWINGLE'S  CALL  TO  EINSIDLBN. 


through  the  cliapol.  They  prostrated  tliemselves  and 
listened  in  amaze.  The  next  day,  when  the  bisliop 
was  going  to  consecrate  tiie  chapel,  a  voice  repeated 
thrice :  "  Stop,  brotlier,  stop  !  God  liimself  has  conse- 
crated it!"  It  was  said  that  Christ  in  person  had 
blessed  it  during  the  night ;  that  the  chant  which  they 
had  heard  proceeded  from  angels,  apostles,  and  saints ; 
and  that  the  Virgin,  standing  upon  the  altar,  had 
blazed  forth  like  a  flash  of  lightning.  A  bull  of  Tope 
Leo  VII.  forbade  the  faithful  to  question  the  truth  of 
this  legend.  Thenceforward  an  immense  crowd  of 
pilgrims  ceased  not  to  repair  to  Our  Lady  of  the  Ere- 
mites to  "  the  Consecration  of  Angels."  Delphi  and 
Ephesus  in  ancient,  and  Loretto  in  modern  times, 
alone  have  c([u:illcil  the  fame  of  Einsidlen.  It  was  in 
this  strange  place  that,  in  1.516,  Ulrich  Zwingle  was 
called  as  priest  and  juvacher. 

Zwin~lc  lu  M- 
tated  not  '  >n  i 
tlier  ambition  imi 
avarice  take^  im 
there,"  s  ud  lit  , 
"but  the  intiigiie> 
of  the  IiLiuh 
Higher  motiM 
determined  him 
On  the  one  hand 
having  moie  ^oli 
tude,  moie  cilm- 
ness,  and  a  k^a 
extensi\  e  parish, 
he  could  dL\ote 
more  time  to  study 
and  meditation , 
on  the  othti  hand, 
this  plate  of  pil- 
grimage would 
give  him  ficilities 
for  spreading  the 
knowledge  ot 
Jesus  Cliiist  to 
the  remotest  coun- 
tries." 

The  fi  lends  ot 
evange  heal  pi  cach- 
ing at  Claris  expressed  deep  grief. 

"  Wliat  worse  could  happen  to  Glaris,"  said  Peter 
Tschudi,  one  of  the  most  distinguished  citizens  of  the 
canton,  "  than  to  be  deprived  of  so  great  a  man?"  His 
parishioners,  finding  him  immoveable,  resolved  to  leave 
him  the  title  of  pastor  of  Glaris,  with  part  of  the 
benefice,  and  the  means  of  retiu-ning  when  he  chose. 

Conrad  of  Eechberg,  a  gentleman  of  ancient  family, 
grave,    candid,    intrepid,    and    occasionally   somewhat 
rude,  was  one  of  the  most  celebrated  sportsmen  of  the 
district   to   which   Zwingle   was   removed.      He   had 
established  on  one  of  his  farms  a  manege,  in  which  he 
reared  a  breed  of  horses  which  became  celebrated  in 
Italy.     Such  was  the  abbot  of  Our  Lady  of  the  Ere- 
mites.   Rechberg  was  equally  averse  to  the  pretensions 
i    of  Rome  and  the  discussions  of  theologians.     One  day, 
I    during  a  visitation  of  the  order,  some  observations  were 
1    made  to  him.     "  I  am  master  here,  not  you,"  said  he, 
I    somewhat  rudely;    '"get  along."     One  day  at  table. 


when  Leo  Juda  was  discussing  some  difficult  point 
with  the  administrator  of  the  convent,  the  hunting 
abbot  exclaimed  :  "  You,  there,  leave  your  disputes  to 
mo.  I  exclaim  with  David  :  Have  pit;/  on  me,  0  God, 
(iccordiiiij  to  till/  goodness,  and  enter  not  into  judgment 
ivith  thij  servant.     I  have  no  need  to  know  any  more." 

Baron  Tlieobald  of  Geroldsek  was  administrator  of 
the  monastery.  He  was  of  a  meek  spirit,  sincerely 
])ious,  and  had  a  great  love  of  literature.  His  favourite 
design  was  to  form  a  society  of  well-informed  men  in 
his  convent;  and  it  was  for  this  reason  he  had  given  a 
call  to  Zwngle.  Eager  for  instruction  and  reading, 
he  begged  his  new  friend  to  direct  him.  "  Read  the 
Holy  Scriptures,"  replied  Zwiiii,'lo;  "and  that  you  may 
the  better  understand  tin m.  -liniy  .!(  iMiue.  However," 
added  he,  "the  time  will  cnm.  (;iim1,  by  God's  help, 
it  is  not  far  off)  when  Chri.liiin.  will  ii.it   srt  a  hidi 


value  either  on  Jerome  or  any  other  doctor,  but  only 
on  the  Word  of  God."  The  conduct  of  Geroldsek  gave 
indication  of  his  progress  in  the  faith.  He  allowed 
the  nuns  of  a  convent,  dependent  on  Einsidlen,  to  read 
the  Bible  in  the  vulgar  tongue  ;  and,  some  years  after, 
Geroldsek  came  to  live  at  Zurich,  beside  Zwingle,  and 
to  die  with  him  on  the  field  of  Cappel.  The  charm 
which  hung  about  Zwingle  soon  united  him,  iu  tender 
friendship,  not  only  with  Geroldsek,  but  also  the  chap- 
lain Zink,  the  excellent  OSxlin,  and  other  inmates  of 
the  abbey.  These  studious  men,  far  from  the  noise 
of  party,  joined  together  in  reading  the  Scriptures,  the 
Fathers  of  the  Church,  the  masterpieces  of  antiquity, 
and  the  writings  of  the  restorers  of  letters.  This 
interesting  society  was  often  enlarged  by  friends  from 
a  distance.  Among  others,  Capito  one  day  arrived  at 
Einsidlen.  The  two  old  friends  of  Bale  walked  to- 
gether over  the  convent  and  the  wild  scenery  in  its 
neighbourhood,  absorbed   in   conversation,  examining 

Q 


HISTORY  OP  THE  REFORMATION. 


the  Scriptures,  and  seeking  to  know  the  Divine  will. 
There  was  a  point  on  which  they  were  agreed,  and  it 
was  this :  "  The  Pope  of  Rome  must  fall."  At  this 
time  Capito  was  more  courageous  than  he  was  at  a 
later  period. 

Repose,  leisure,  books,  friends, — all  these  Zwingle 
had  in  this  tranquil  retreat,  and  he  accordingly  grew 
in  understanding  and  in  faith.  At  this  period  (May, 
1517)  he  commenced  a  work  which  was  of  great  utility 
to  him.  As  in  old  times  the  kings  of  Israel  wi-ote  the 
law  of  God  with  their  own  hand,  so  Zwingle,  with  his, 
copied  the  Epistles  of  St.  Paul.  The  only  editions  of 
the  New  Testament  then  in  existence  were  of  large 
size,  and  Zwingle  wished  to  have  one  which  he  could 
carry  about  with  him.'  These  epistles  he  learned  by 
heart,  as  he  did  afterwards  the  other  books  of  the 
New,  and  a  part  of  the  Old  Testament.  Thus  his 
heart  became  always  more  attached  to  the  sovereign 
authority  of  the  Word  of  God.  He  was  not  satisfied 
with  merely  acknowledging  this ;  he  was,  moreover, 
desirous  to  bring  his  life  into  true  subjection  to  it. 
His  views  gradually  became  more  decidedly  Christian. 
The  end  for  which  he  had  been  brought  into  this  desert 
was  accomplished.  It  is  no  doubt  true  that  Zurich  is 
the  place  where  his  whole  soul  became  thoroughly 
pervaded  with  Christian  principle ;  but  even  now,  at 
Einsidlen,  he  made  decided  progress  in  the  work  of 
sanctiflcation.  At  Glaris  he  had  taken  part  in  the 
amusements  of  the  world ;  at  Einsidlen  he  was  more 
anxious  for  a  life  uusidlied  by  any  taint  of  worldliness. 
Beginning  to  have  a  better  idea  of  the  great  spiritual 
interests  of  the  people,  he  gradually  learned  what  God 
designed  to  teach  him. 

Providence  had  also  other  views  in  bringing  him  to 
Einsidlen.  Here  he  obtained  a  nearer  view  of  the 
superstitions  and  abuses  which  had  invaded  the  Chm-ch. 
An  image  of  the  Virgin  which  was  carefully  preserved 
in  this  monastery,  had,  it  was  said,  the  power  of  work- 
ing miracles.  Above  the  gate  of  the  abbey  appeared 
this  presumptuous  inscription :  "  Here  is  obtained  a 
plenary  remission  of  all  sins."  A  multitude  of  jjilgrims 
flocked  to  Einsidlen  from  all  parts  of  Christendom,  to 
merit  this  grace  by  their  pilgrimage.  The  church,  the 
abbey,  and  the  whole  valley  were  crowded  with  devout 
worshippers  on  the  festivals  of  the  Virgin.  But  it  was 
especially  at  the  grand  festival  of  "  the  Consecration  of 
the  Angels,"  that  the  hermitage  was  crowded  to  over- 
flowing. Thousands  of  individuals  of  both  sexes 
clunbed  the  acclivity  of  the  hill  leading  to  the  oratory, 
singing  hymns  and  counting  their  beads.  These  devout 
pilgrims  crowded  into  the  church,  thinking  they  were 
there  nearer  God  than  anywhere  else. 

The  residence  of  Zwingle  at  Einsidlen  was,  in  regard 
to  the  exposure  of  papal  abuses,  similar  in  effect  to 
Luther's  visit  to  Rome.  Zwingle's  education  for 
reformer  was  completed  at  Einsidlen.  God  alone  is 
the  source  of  salvation,  and  He  is  so  everywhere, — 
these  were  the  two  truths  which  he  learned  at  Einsid- 
len, and  they  became  fundamental  articles  in  his  creed. 
The  serious  impression  produced  on  his  soul  soon 
manifested  itself  externally.  Struck  with  the  many 
prevailing  evils,  he  resolved  to  oppose  them  boldly. 
Not  hesitating  between  his  conscience  and  his  interest, 

1  This  maimsciipt  is  extant  iu  the  library  of  tlie  town  of  Zuricli. 


he  stood  up  openly,  and,  in  plain  and  energetic  terras, 
attacked  the  superstition  of  the  surrounding  crowds. 
"Think  not,"  said  he  from  the  pulpit,  "that  God  is 
in  this  temple  more  than  in  any  other  part  of  His 
creation.  Whatever  be  the  country  in  which  you 
dwell,  God  encompasses  you,  and  heais  you  as  well  as 
in  Our  Lady  of  Einsidlen.  Can  useless  works,  long 
pilgrimages,  offerings,  images,  the  invocation  of  the 
Virgin  or  the  saints,  obtain  the  grace  of  God?  .  , 
What  avails  the  multitude  of  words  in  which  we  em- 
body our  prayers  ?  What  avails  a  glossy  hood — a  head 
well  shaven — a  long  robe  with  its  neat  folds,  and 
mules  caparisoned  with  gold  ?  God  looks  to  the  heart ; 
but  our  heart  is  alienated  from  God." 

But  Zwingle  wished  to  do  more  than  lift  his  voice 
against  superstition.  He  wished  to  satisfy  that  eager 
longing  for  reconciliation  with  God,  felt  by  many 
of  the  pilgrims  who  had  flocked  to  the  chapel  of  Our 
Lady  of  Einsidlen.  "  Christ,"  cried  he,  like  a  John 
Baptist  iu  this  new  wilderness  of  Judea, — "Christ,  who 
was  once  offered  on  the  cross,  is  the  expiatory  victim, 
who,  even  through  eternity,  makes  satisfaction  for  the 
sins  of  all  believers."  Thus  Zwingle  advanced.  The 
day  when  this  bold  sermon  was  heard  iu  the  most 
venerated  sanctuary  of  Switzerland,  the  standard  pre- 
pared against  Rome  began  to  be  more  distinctly  dis- 
played on  its  mountain  heights,  and  there  was,  so  to 
speak,  a  heaving  of  reform  reaching  even  to  their 
deepest  foundations. 

In  fact,  universal  astonishment  seized  the  multitude 
on  hearing  the  discourse  of  the  eloquent  priest.  Some 
walked  off  in  horror;  others  hesitated  between  the 
faith  of  their  fathers  and  the  doctrine  fitted  to  secure 
their  peace ;  while  several  came  to  Jesus  Christ,  who 
was  thus  preached  to  them,  and  finding  rest  to  their 
souls,  took  back  the  tapers  which  they  had  intended  to 
present  to  the  Virgin.  A  crowd  of  pilgrims  returned 
to  their  homes,  announcing  everywhere  what  they  had 
heard  at  Einsidlen.  "  Christ  alone  saves,  and  saves 
EVERYWHERE."  Bauds,  astonishcd  at  what  they  heard, 
stopped  short  without  finishing  their  pilgrimage.  The 
worshippers  of  Mary  diminished  from  day  to  day. 
Theii-  offerings  formed  almost  the  whole  income  of 
Zwingle  and  Geroldsek ;  but  the  intrepid  witness  of 
the  truth  felt  happy  to  be  impoverished,  in  order  that 
souls  luight  be  spiritually  enriched. 

During  the  feast  of  Pentecost,  in  the  year  1518, 
among  the  numerous  hearers  of  Zwingle,  was  a  learned 
man  of  meek  temper  and  active  charity,  named  Gas- 
pard  Hedio,  doctor  of  theology  at  Bide.  Zwingle 
preached  on  the  cm"e  of  the  paralytic,  (Luke  v.,)  where 
our  Saviour  declares:  The  Son  of  Man  /lath  jiower  vpon 
earth  to  forgive  sins, — words  well  fitted  to  strike  the 
crowd  assembled  in  the  Church  of  the  Virgin.  The 
preacher  roased,  enraptured,  and  inflamed  his  audience, 
especially  the  doctor  from  Bale.  A  long  time  after, 
Hedio  expressed  his  high  admiration.  "  How  beauti- 
ful," said  he,  "  this  discourse !  how  profound,  weighty, 
complete,  penetrating,  and  evangelical !  how  much  it 
reminds  one  of  the  evepyeia  (energy)  of  the  ancient 
doctors !"  From  that  moment  Hedio  admired  and  loved 
Zwingle.  He  would  fain  have  gone  to  him  and  opened 
his  heart ;  he  wandered  around  the  abbey,  but  durst 
not  approach,  kept  back,  as  he  expresses  it,  by  a  super- 


SAMSON  AND  INDULGENCES. 


6titiou3  timidit}'.  He  again  mounted  his  horse,  and 
slowly  retired  from  Our  Lady,  ever  and  again  turning 
his  head  to  the  spot  which  contained  so  groat  a  trea- 
sure, and  feeling  in  his  heart  the  keenest  regi-et. 

Tlius  Zwiugle  preached,  loss  forcibly,  no  doubt,  than 
Luther,  but  witli  more  moderation,  and  not  less  success. 
lie  did  nothing  i)rocipitately,  and  did  not  come  so  vio- 
lently into  collision  with  men's  minds  as  the  Saxon 
reformer ;  ho  expected  overythiug  from  the  power  of 
truth.  He  displayed  tlic  same  wisdom  in  his  relations 
with  the  heads  of  the  Cluirch.  Far  from  immediately 
declaring  himself  their  enemy,  he  long  remained  their 
friend.  They  wore  exceedingly  indulgent  to  him,  not 
only  because  of  his  learning  and  talents,  (Luther  had 
the  same  claims  to  the  regard  of  the  bishops  of  Mentz 
and  Brandenbui-g,)  but  especially  because  of  his  attach- 
ment to  the  pope's  political  party,  and  the  influence 
possessed  by  such  a  man  as  Zwingle  in  a  republican 
state. 

In  fact,  several  cantons,  disgusted  with  the  service 
of  the  pope,  wore  disposed  to  break  with  him.  But 
the  legates  flattered  themselves  they  might  retain 
several  of  thorn  by  gaining  Zwingle,  as  tliey  gained 
Erasmus,  with  pensions  and  honoiu-s.  At  this  time 
the  legates,  Enuius  and  Pucci,  went  frequently  to 
Einsidlen,  where,  from  its  proximity  to  the  democratic 
cantons,  it  was  more  easy  to  caixy  on  negotiations  with 
them.  But  Zwingle,  far  from  sacrificing  the  truth  to 
the  demands  and  offers  of  Rome,  omitted  no  oppor- 
tunity of  defending  the  Gospel.  The  famous  Scliiuner, 
who  had  then  some  distm-bauce  in  his  diocese,  passed 
some  time  at  Einsidlou.  "The  whole  papacy,"  said 
Zwingle  one  day,  "rests  on  a  bad  foundation.  Put 
your  hand  to  the  work,  remove  errors  and  abuses,  or 
you  will  sec  the  whole  edifice  crumble  to  pieces  with 
fearful  uproar." 

He  spoke  with  the  same  frankness  to  legate  Pucci. 
Four  times  did  he  return  to  the  charge.  "  With  the 
help  of  God,"  said  he  to  him,  "  I  will  continue  to 
preach  the  Gospel,  and  this  preaching  will  shake 
Rome."  Then  he  pointed  out  to  him  what  was  neces- 
sary to  save  the  Church.  Pucci  promised  everything, 
but  did  nothing.  Zwingle  declared  that  he  renounced 
the  pension  from  the  pope.  The  legate  entreated  him 
to  retain  it;  and  Zwingle,  who  at  that  time  had  no 
thought  of  placing  himself  in  open  hostility  to  the 
head  of  the  Chm-ch,  consented  for  three  j'cai-s  to  re- 
ceive it.  "But  think  not,"  added  ho,  "that  for  the 
love  of  money  I  retrench  a  single  syllable  of  the  truth." 
Pucci,  alarmed,  made  the  reformer  be  appointed  chap- 
lain acolyte  to  the  pope.  It  was  an  avenue  to  new 
honours.  Rome  thought  to  frighten  Luther  by  sen- 
tences of  condemnation,  and  to  win  Zwingle  by  favoui-s 
— darting  her  excommunications  at  the  one,  and  dis- 
playing her  gold  and  magnificence  to  the  other.  She 
thus  endeavoured,  by  two  different  methods,  to  attain 
the  same  end,  and  silence  the  bold  lips  which  dared, 
in  spite  of  the  pope,  to  proclaim  the  AVord  of  God  in 
Germany  and  Switzerland.  The  latter  method  was 
the  more  skilful,  but  neither  of  them  succeeded.  The 
enfranchised  souls  of  the  preachers  of  truth  were 
equally  inaccessible'  to  menace  and  favoui-. 

Another  Swiss  prelate,  Hugo  of  Landonberg,  bishop 
of  Constance,  at  this  time  gave  some  hopes  to  Zwingle. 


He  ordered  a  general  visitation  of  the  churches.  But 
Landonberg,  a  man  of  no  character,  allowed  himself  to 
be  led  alternately  by  Faber,  his  vicar,  and  by  an  aban- 
doned female,  from  whose  sway  ho  was  unable  to 
escape.  He  occasionally  appeared  to  honour  tlie  Gos- 
pel, and  yet  any  one  who  preached  it  boldly  was,  in  his 
eyes,  only  a  disUuber.  He  was  one  of  those  men,  too 
common  in  the  Church,  who,  though  loving  truth  bet- 
tor than  error,  have  more  indulgence  for  error  than  for 
truth,  and  often  end  by  turning  against  those  with 
whom  they  ought  to  make  common  cause.  Zwingle 
applied  to  him,  but  in  vain.  He  was  to  have  the  same 
exi)erionce  whicli  Luther  had, — to  be  convinced  that  it 
was  useless  to  invoke  the  heads  of  the  Church,  and 
that  tlio  only  method  of  restoring  Christianity  was  to 
act  as  a  faithful  teacher  of  tlie  Word  of  God.  Au 
opportunity  of  doing  so  soon  occuired. 

In  August,  1518,  a  Franciscan  monk  was  seen  tra- 
velling on  the  heights  of  St.  Gothard,  in  those  lofty 
piisses  which  have  been  laboriously  cut  across  the  steep 
rocks  separating  Switzerland  from  Italy.  Plaviug 
come  forth  from  an  Italian  convent,  he  was  the  bearer 
of  papal  indulgences  which  he  was  commissioned  to 
sell  to  the  good  Christians  of  the  Helvetic  league. 
Brilliant  success,  obtained  under  two  preceding  popes, 
had  signalized  his  exertions  in  this  shameful  traffic. 
Companions,  intended  to  puff  off  the  merchandise 
which  he  was  going  to  sell,  were  accompanying  him 
across  mountains  of  snow  and  ice  coeval  with  the 
world.  This  avaricious  band — in  appearance  miserable 
enough,  and  not  unlike  a  baud  of  adventurers  roaming 
for  plunder — walked  in  silence,  amid  the  noise  of  the 
foaming  torrents  wliich  give  rise  to  the  Rhino,  the 
Reuss,  the  Aar,  the  Rhone,  the  Tessino,  and  other 
rivers,  meditating  how  they  were  to  plunder  the  simple 
population  of  Helvetia.  Samson  (this  was  the  Fran- 
ciscan's name)  and  his  company  fii-st  arrived  in  Uri, 
and  there  commenced  their  traflic.  They  had  soon 
done  with  those  poor  peasants,  and  passed  into  the 
canton  of  Sehwitz.  Hei-e  Zwingle  was,  and  here  the 
combat  between  these  two  servants  of  two  very  dif- 
ferent masters  was  to  take  place.  "  I  can  pardon  all 
sins,"  said  the  Italian  monk — the  Tetzol  of  Switzerland. 
"  Heaven  and  hell  are  subject  to  my  power,  and  I  soil 
the  merits  of  Jesus  Christ  to  whoever  wUl  purchase 
them,  by  paying  in  cash  for  an  indulgence." 

Zwingle  heard  of  these  discourses,  and  his  zeal  was 
inflamed. 

He  preached  powerfidly  against  them.  "Jesus 
Christ,  the  Son  of  God,"  said  he,  "  thus  speaks :  Come 
tinto  5IE,  all  ye  that  labour  and  are  heai'y  laden,  and  I 
will  give  you  rest.  Is  it  not,  then,  audacious  folly  and 
insensate  temerity  to  say,  on  the  contrarj':  'Purchase 
letters  of  indulgence !  run  to  Rome  !  give  to  the  monks  ! 
sacrifice  to  the  priests !  If  you  do  these  things  I  will 
absolve  you  from  your  sins  ? '  Jesus  Christ  is  the  only 
offering ;  Jesus  Christ  is  the  only  sacrifice ;  Jesus  Christ 
is  the  only  way." 

Everybody  at  Schwtz  began  to  call  Samson  rogue 
and  cheat.  He  took  the  road  to  Zug,  and  for  this  time 
the  two  champions  failed  to  meet. 

Scarcely  had  Samson  left  Sehwitz  when  a  citizen  of 
this  canton,  named  Stapfer,  a  man  of  distinguished 
talent,  and  afterward  secretary  of  state,  was  with  his 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


fwiiily  reduced  to  great  distress.  "Alas!"  said  he, 
when  applying  in  agony  to  Zwingle,  "  I  know  not  how 
to  satisfy  my  own  hunger  and  the  hunger  of  my  poor 
children."  Zwingle  knew  to  give  where  Eome  knew 
to  take ;  he  was  as  ready  to  practise  good  works  as  to 
combat  those  who  taught  that  they  were  the  means  of 
obtaining  salvation.  He  daily  gave  liberally  to  Stap- 
fer.  '-It  is  God,"  said  he,  anxious  not  to  take  any 
glory  to  himself, — "It  is  God  who  begets  charity  in 
the  believer,  and  gives  him  at  once  the  thought,  the 
resolution,  and  the  work  itself.  Whatever  good  a 
righteous  man  does,  it  is  God  who  does  it  by  His  own 
power."  Stapfer  remained  attached  to  him  through 
life ;  and,  four  years  after,  when  he  had  become  secre- 
tary of  state,  and  felt  wants  of  a  higher  kind,  he  turned 
towards  Zwingle,  and  said  to  him  with  noble  candour : 
"  Since  you  provided  for  my  temporal  wants,  how  much 
more  may  I  now  expect  from  you  wherewith  to  appease 
the  hunger  of  my  soul ! " 

The  friends  of  Zwingle   increased.      Not   only  at 
Glaris,   Bale,   and  Schwitz,   did   he  find  men  of  like 


CHAPTER  XL 


Zurich— The  College  of  Canons— Election  to  the  Cathedral- 

tions— Confession  of  Zwingle— The  Designs  of  God  Unfolded— Farewell 
to  Einsidlen — Arrival  at  Zurich — Courageous  Declaration  of  Zwingle— 
First  Sermons— Effects— Opposition— Character  of  Zwingle— Taste  for 
Alusic — Arrangement  of  the  Day — Circulation  by  Hawkers. 

Seven  centuries  had  elapsed  since  Charlemagne  liad 
attached  a  college  of  canons  to  this  cathedral,  over 
whose  school  Oswald  Myconius  then  presided.  These 
canons  having  degenerated  from  their  first  institution, 
and  desiring  in  their  benefices  to  enjoy  the  sweets  of 
indolence,  elected  a  priest  to  preach  and  take  the  cure 
of  souls.  This  situation  having  become  vacant  some 
time  after  Oswald's  arrival,  he  immediately  thought  of 
his  friend.  What  a  prize  it  would  be  for  Zurich ! 
Zwingle's  appearance  was  prepossessing.  He  was  a 
handsome  man,  of  graceful  address,  and  pleasing  man- 
ners.    His  eloquence  had  already  given  him  celebrity. 


spirit  with  lumselt  ;  in  Lai  thine  \\a.-.  the  seciefary  of 
state,  Schmidt ;  at  Zug,  Colin,  Miiller,  and  Werner 
Steiner,  his  old  companions  in  arms  at  Marignan  ;  at 
Lucerne,  Xyloctect  and  Kilchmeyer ;  Wittembach  at 
Bienne  ;  and  many  others  in  many  other  places.  But 
the  curate  of  Einsidlen  had  no  more  devoted  friend 
than  Oswald  Myconius.  Oswald  had  quitted  Biile  in 
1516,  to  take  charge  of  the  cathedral  school  at  Zurich. 
In  this  town  there  were  no  learned  men,  and  no  schools 
of  learning.  Oswald  laboured  along  with  some  well- 
disposed  individuals — among  others,  Utinger,  notary 
to  the  pope — to  raise  the  Zurich  population  out  of 
ignorance,  and  initiate  them  in  ancient  literature.  At 
the  same  time  he  defended  the  immutable  truth  of  the 
Holy  Scriptures,  and  declared,  that  if  the  pope  or 
emperor  gave  commands  contrary  to  the  Gospel,  obe- 
dience was  due  to  God  alone,  who  is  above  both 
emperor  and  pope. 


^\hlle  the  lustie  of  his  genius  raxdo  hnn  conspicuous 
among  all  the  confederates  Myconius  spoke  of  him 
to  the  provost  of  the  chapter,  Felix  Fre^ ,  (who  from 
the  appearance  and  talents  of  Zwingle  •«  as  already  pre- 
possessed in  his  fa\oui  )  to  Utingci,  an  old  man  who 
was  held  in  high  respect ;  and  to  Canon  Hoffman,  a 
man  of  an  upright  open  disposition,  who,  having  long 
preached  against  foreign  service,  was  favourably  in- 
clined to  Ulrich.  Other  Zurichors  had,  on  different 
occasions,  heard  Zwingle  at  Einsidlen,  and  had  returned 
full  of  admiration.  The  election  of  preacher  to  the 
cathedral  soon  set  all  the  inhabitants  of  Zurich  in 
motion.  Different  parties  were  formed.  Several  la- 
boured night  and  day  for  the  election  of  the  eloquent 
j)reacher  of  Our  Lady  of  the  Eremites.  Myconius  hav- 
ing informed  his  friend, — "Wednesday  next,"  replied 
Zwingle,  "  I  will  come  and  dine  at  Zurich,  and  talk 
over  matters."  He  accordingly  arrived.  A  canon  to 
whom  he  was  paying  a  visit,  said  to  him :  "  Could  you 
coine  among  us  to  preach  the  Word  of  God?" — "I 
could,"  replied  he ;  "  but  will  not  come  unless  I  am 
called."     He  then  returned  to  his  abbey. 

This  visit  spread  alarm  in  the  camp  of  his  enemies. 


ZWINGLE  CALLED  TO  ZURICH. 


229 


Several  priests  were  urged  to  apply  for  the  vacancy. 
A  Swabian,  named  Laurent  Fable,  even  preached  as  a 
candidate,  and  the  rumour  went  that  he  was  elected. 
"  It  is,  then,  quite  true,"  said  Zwingle,  on  learning  it, 
"  that  a  prophet  has  no  honour  in  his  own  country, 
since  a  Swabian  is  prefeiTed  to  a  Swiss.  I  know  what 
value  to  set  on  popular  api)lausc."  Zwingle  immedi- 
ately after  received  a  letter  fnmi  the  secretary  of  Car- 
dinal Schinner,  informing  him  that  the  election  had  not 
taken  jjlacc.  But  the  false  news  which  he  had  at  first 
received  nettled  the  curate  of  Einsidlen.  Knowing 
that  a  person  so  unworthy  as  this  Fable  aspired  to  the 
place,  he  was  more  desirous  to  obtain  it  for  himself, 
and  wrote  about  it  to  Myconius,  who  next  day  replied  : 
"  Fable  will  always  continue  a  fable :  my  masters  have 
learned  that  he  is  already  the  father  of  six  boys,  and 
possesses  I  know  not  how  many  benefices." 

The  enemies  of  Zwingle  did  not  abandon  their  oppo- 
sition. All,  it  is  true,  agreed  in  extolling  his  learning 
to  the  skies  ;  but  said  some,  "  He  is  too  fond  of  music  ;" 
others,  "He  loves  the  world  and  pleasure;"  others 
again,  "  In  early  life  he  was  too  closely  connected  with 
giddy  companions."  There  was  even  one  individual 
who  charged  him  with  an  instance  of  seduction. 
Zwingle  was  not  without  blemish.  Though  superior  to 
the  ecclesiastics  of  his  time,  he  more  than  once,  in  the 
first  years  of  his  ministry,  gave  way  to  youthful  pro- 
pensities. It  is  difficult  to  estimate  the  influence  of  an 
impure  atmosphere  on  those  who  live  in  it.  There 
were  in  the  papacy  certain  established  irregularities, 
allowed  and  sanctioned  as  conformable  to  the  laws  of 
nature.  A  saying  of  iEncas  Sylvius,  afterwards  pope 
under  the  name  of  Pius  II.,  gives  an  idea  of  the  sad 
state  of  public,  morals  at  this  period.  We  give  it  in  a 
note.'  Disorder  had  become  the  rule,  order  the  excep- 
tion. 

Oswald  displayed  the  greatest  activity  in  favour  of 
his  friend.  He  exerted  all  his  powers  in  defending 
him,  and  happily  succeeded.  He  went  to  burgomaster 
Roust,  to  Hoffman,  Frev,  and  LTtinger.  He  praised 
Zwingle  for  his  probity,  honesty,  and  purity,  and  con- 
firmed the  Zurichers  in  the  favourable  opinion  which 
they  had  of  the  cui-ate  of  Einsidlen.  Little  credit  was 
given  to  the  speeches  of  his  adversaries.  The  most  in- 
fluential persons  said  that  Zwingle  should  be  preacher 
at  Zurich.  The  canons  said  so  also,  but  in  a  whisper. 
"  Hope,"  wrote  Oswald  to  him  with  a  full  heart,  "  for 
I  hope."  At  the  same  time  he  told  him  of  the  accusa- 
tions of  his  enemies.  Although  Zwingle  was  not  yet 
become  altogether  a  new  man,  he  belonged  to  the  class 
of  those  whose  conscience  is  awakened,  and  who  may 
fall  into  sin  ;  but  never  without  a  struggle,  or  without 
remorse.  It  had  often  been  his  resolution  to  stand 
alone  in  the  midst  of  the  world,  and  maintain  a  life  of 
holiness.  But  when  he  saw  himself  accused,  he  did 
not  pretend  to  boast  that  he  was  without  sin.  Writing 
to  Canon  Utingcr,  he  said:  "Having nobody  to  go  along 
with  me  in  the  resolutions  which  I  had  formed,  several 
even  of  those  about  me  being  offended  at  them,  alas ! 
I  fell,  and  like  the  dog  of  whom  St.  Peter  speaks,  (2 
Pet.  ii.  22,)  returned  to  my  vomit.  Ah !  God  knows 
with  what  shame  and  anguish  I  have  torn  up  these 


K)>.,  p.  57. 


qui  ngesimuni  annum  excessit,  ncc  virgii 


faults  from  the  depths  of  my  heart,  and  laid  them  be- 
fore Almighty  God,  to  whom,  however,  I  would  be  less 
afraid  to  confess  my  misery  than  to  mortal  man."  But 
while  Zwhigle  confessed  himself  to  be  a  sinner,  he,  at 
the  same  time,  vindicated  himself  from  the  most  offen- 
sive charges  which  were  brought  against  him.  He 
declared  that  ho  had  ever  abhorred  the  idea  of  invading 
the  sanctity  of  married  life,  or  seducing  innocence, — 
vices  at  that  time  but  too  common.  "For  the  truth 
of  this,"  says  he,  "  I  appeal  to  all  with  whom  I  have 
lived." 

The  election  took  place  on  the  11th  December,  and 
out  of  the  twenty-four  votes  which  were  given,  Zwingle 
had  seventeen.  It  was  time  that  the  Reformation 
should  begin  in  Switzerland.  The  chosen  instrument 
which  Divine  Pi-ovidence  had  been  preparing  during 
three  years  in  the  retreat  of  Einsidlen,  was  ready,  and 
must  now  be  translated  elsewhere.  God,  who  had 
chosen  the  new  university  of  AVittemberg,  situated  in 
the  heart  of  Germany,  and  under  the  protection  of  the 
wisest  of  princes,  to  call  Luther  thither,  made  choice 
in  Switzerland  of  the  city  of  Zurich,  regarded  as  the 
head  of  the  confederation,  there  to  station  Zwingle, 
and  to  bring  him  into  contact  not  only  with  one  of  the 
most  intelligent,  simple,  resolute,  and  intrepid  com- 
munities of  Switzerland,  but  also  with  all  the  cantons 
which  are  grouped  around  this  ancient  and  powerful 
state.  The  hand  which  had  taken  hold  of  a  young 
shepherd  of  Sentis,  and  led  him  to  the  school  of  Wesen, 
now  brought  him  forward,  powerful  in  word  and  in 
deed,  in  the  face  of  all,  to  regenerate  his  countrymen. 
Zurich  was  about  to  become  a  focus  of  light  to 
Switzerland. 

The  day  which  announced  the  election  of  Zwingle 
was  to  Einsidlen  a  day  at  once  of  joy  and  grief.  The 
circle  which  had  been  formed  there  was  about  to  be 
broken  up  by  the  withdrawal  of  its  most  valuable  mem- 
ber; and  who  could  say  whether  superstition  was  not 
going  again  to  take  possession  of  this  ancient  place  of 
pilgrimage?  .  .  .  The  council  of  state  in  Schwitz 
conveyed  the  expression  of  his  sentiments  to  Ulrich  by 
designating  him  as  "reverend,  learned,  most  gracious 
master,  and  good  friend."  "At  least  do  you  yourself 
give  us  a  successor  worthy  of  you,"  said  Geroldsek,  in 
despair,  to  Zwingle. — "I  have  got  for  you,"  replied  he, 
"a  little  lion,  simple  and  wise;  a  man  initiated  in  the 
mysteries  of  sacred  science." — "Let  me  have  him," 
immediately  rejoined  the  administrator.  It  was  Leo 
Juda,  at  once  tlie  gentle  and  intrepid  friend  with  whom 
Zwingle  had  been  so  intimate  at  Bale.  Leo  accepted  the 
call  which  brought  him  near  his  dear  Ulrich.  Ulrich 
took  farewell  of  his  friends,  quitted  the  solitude  of 
Einsidlen,  and  arrived  at  that  delightful  spot  where, 
smiling  and  instinct  with  life,  rises  the  town  of  Zurich, 
surrounded  by  its  amphitheatre  of  vine-clad  hills, 
enamelled  with  meadows  and  orchards,  crowned  with 
forests,  and  overtopped  by  the  lofty  peaks  of  the  Albis. 

Zurich,  the  centre  of  the  political  interests  of 
Switzerland,  where  the  most  influential  persons  in  the 
nation  frequently  assembled,  -was  the  place  best  fitted 
to  act  upon  the  whole  country,  and  shed  the  seeds  of 
truth  over  aU  its  cantons.  Accordingly,  the  friends 
of  letters  and  the  Bible  hailed  the  appointment  of 
Zwingle  with  acclamation.     At  Paris,  in  particular, 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


the  Swiss  students,  who  were  there  in  great  numbers, 
were  enraptured  with  the  news.  But  if  Zwingle  had 
the  prospect  of  a  great  victory  at  Zurich,  he  had  also 
the  prospect  of  a  severe  contest.  Glarean  wrote  him 
from  Paris :  "  I  foresee  that  your  learning  will  stir  up 
gi-eat  enmity;  but  be  of  good  courage,  and  you  will, 
like  Hercules,  subdue  monsters." 

On  the  27th  December,  1518,  Zwingle  arrived  at 
Zurich,  and  took  up  his  quartei'S  at  the  hotel  of 
Einsidlen.  He  received  a  cordial  and  honourable 
welcome.  The  chapter  immediately  met  to  receive 
him,  and  invited  him  to  take  his  seat  in  the  midst  of 
them.  Felix  Frey  presided;  the  canons,  friendly  or 
hostile  to  Zwingle,  sat  indiscriminately  around  their 
provost.  There  was  considerable  excitement  in  the 
meeting ;  every  one  felt,  perhaps  without  distinctly 
acknowledging  it  to  himself,  how  serious  the  com- 
mencement of  this  ministry  was  likely  to  prove.  Some 
apprehension  being  entertained  of  the  innovating  spirit 
of  the  young  priest,  it  was  agi-eed  to  set  before  him 
the  most  important  duties  of  his  office.  "You  will 
use  your  utmost  endeavour,"  he  was  gravely  told,  "  to 
secure  payment  of  the  revenues  of  the  chapter,  with- 
out neglecting  the  least  of  them.  You  will  exhort  the 
faithfnl  both  from  the  puljiit  and  in  the  confessional, 
to  pay  the  first  fruits  and  tithes,  and  to  shew  by  their 
offerings  that  they  love  the  Church.  You  will  make 
it  your  business  to  increase  the  revenues  which  arc 
derived  from  the  sick,  from  sacrifices,  and  generally 
from  every  ecclesiastical  act."  The  chaister  added: 
"As  to  the  administration  of  the  sacraments,  preaching, 
and  personal  presence  amid  the  flock,  these  too  are 
duties  of  the  priest.  However,  in  these  different 
respects,  and  particularly  in  regard  to  preaching,  you 
may  supply  your  place  by  a  vicar.  You  should  ad- 
minister the  sacraments  only  to  persons  of  distinction, 
and  after  being  requested.  You  are  expressly  forbid- 
den to  do  it  to  all  persons  indiscriminately." 

Strange  rule  to  be  given  to  Zwingle!  Money,  money, 
still  money!  .  .  .  Was  it,  then,  for  this  that  Christ 
established  his  ministry?  Still  prudence  tempers  his 
zeal ;  he  knows  that  we  canuot  all  at  once  deposit  the 
seed  in  the  ground,  see  the  growth  of  the  tree,  and 
gather  its  fruit.  Zwingle,  therefore,  without  explaining 
his  views  on  what  was  enjoined  him,  humbly  expressed 
his  gratitude  for  the  honourable  appointment  which  he 
had  received,  and  stated  what  he  calculated  on  being 
able  to  do.  "  The  life  of  Jesus,"  said  he,  "  has  been 
too  long  hidden  from  the  people.  I  will  preach  on 
the  whole  Gospel  of  St.  Matthew,  chapter  by  chai)tcr, 
following  the  mind  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  drawing  only 
at  the  well-springs  of  Scripture,  digging  deep  into  it, 
and  seeking  the  luiderstauding  of  it  by  persevering 
fervent  prayer.  I  will  consecrate  my  ministry  to  the 
glory  of  God ;  the  praise  of  His  only  Son ;  the  real  sal- 
vation of  souls,  and  their  instruction  in  the  true  faith." 
This  new  language  made  a  deep  impression  on  the 
chapter.  Some  expressed  joy,  but  the  majority  openly 
disapproved.  "  This  mode  of  preaching  is  an  innova- 
tion," exclaimed  they;  "this  innovation  will  soon  lead 
to  others,  and  where  is  it  to  stop?"  Canon  Hoffman, 
in  particular,  thought  it  his  duty  to  prevent  the  fatal 
effects  of  a  choice  which  he  had  himself  patronized. 
"This  exposition  of  Scriptiu-e,"  said  he,  "will  be  more 


hurtful  than  useful  to  the  people." — "  It  is  not  a  new 
method,"  replied  Zwingle,  "  it  is  the  ancient  method. 
Recollect  the  homilies  of  St.  Chrysostom  on  St.  Mat- 
thew, and  of  St.  Augustine  on  St.  John.  Besides,  I 
will  use  moderation,  and  give  none  any  reason  to 
complain." 

Tlius  Zwingle  abandoned  the  exclusive  use  of  frag- 
ments of  the  Gospel,  as  practised  since  the  days  of 
Charlemagne ;  re-establishing  the  Scripture  in  its 
ancient  rights,  he,  from  the  commencement  of  his 
ministry,  united  the  Reformation  to  the  primitive  ages 
of  Christianity,  and  prepared  a  more  profound  study 
of  the  Word  of  God  for  ages  to  come.  But  he  did 
more.  The  strong  and  independent  position  which  he 
took  up  in  the  face  of  the  Church  shewed  that  the 
work  in  which  he  had  engaged  was  new.  The  figure 
of  the  reformer  stood  out  in  bold  relief  to  the  public 
eye,  and  the  Reformation  advanced. 

Hoffman,  having  failed  in  the  chapter,  addressed  a 
written  request  to  the  provost,  to  prohibit  Zwingle 
from  shaking  the  popular  belief.  The  provost  sent 
for  the  new  preacher,  and  spoke  to  him  with  great 
kindness.  But  no  human  power  could  close  his  lips. 
On  the  31st  December,  he  wrote  to  the  council  of 
Glaris,  that  he  entirely  resigned  the  cure  of  souls 
which  had  hitherto  been  reserved  for  him,  and  gave 
himself  wholly  to  Zurich,  and  to  the  work  which  God 
was  preparing  for  him  in  this  town. 

On  Satni-day,  being  new-year's-day,  and  also  the 
birthday  of  Zwingle,  who  had  completed  his  thirty-fifth 
year,  he  mounted  the  pulpit  of  the  cathedral.  A  great 
crowd,  eager  to  see  a  man  who  had  already  acquired 
so  much  celebrity,  and  to  hear  this  new  Gospel,  of 
which  every  one  began  to  speak,  filled  the  church. 
"It  is  to  Christ,"  said  Zwingle,  "that  I  wish  to  conduct 
you ;  to  Christ,  the  true  source  of  salvation.  His 
Divine  Word  is  the  only  nourishment  which  I  would 
give  to  your  heart  and  life."  Then  he  announced  that 
to-morrow,  the  first  Simday  of  the  year,  he  would 
begin  to  expound  the  Gospel  accortling  to  St.  Matthew. 
Accordingly,  the  preacher,  and  a  still  larger  audience 
than  the  day  before,  were  at  their  posts.  Zwingle 
opened  the  Gospel — the  Gospel  wliich  had  so  long  been 
a  sealed  book — and  read  the  first  page,  going  over  the 
history  of  the  isatriarchs  and  prophets  mentioned  in 
the  first  chapter  of  St.  Matthew,  and  expounding  it  in 
such  a  way  that  all  were  astonished  and  delighted,  and 
exclaimed:  "We  never  heard  anything  like  this!" 

He  continued  thus  to  expound  St.  Matthew,  accord- 
ing to  the  original  Greek.  He  shewed  how  the  whole 
Bible  found  at  once  its  exposition  and  its  application 
in  the  very  nature  of  man.  Delivering  the  loftiest 
truths  of  the  Gospel  in  simple  language,  his  preaching 
reached  all  classes,  the  learned  and  the  wise,  as  well 
as  the  ignorant  and  simple.  He  extolled  the  infinite 
mercies  of  God  the  Father,  and  implored  all  his  hearers 
to  put  their  confidence  in  Jesus  Clmst  alone  as  the 
only  Saviour.  At  the  same  time,  he  earnestly  called 
them  to  repentance;  forcibly  attacked  the  eri-ors  which 
prevailed  among  the  people;  fearlessly  rebuked  luxury, 
intemperance,  extravagance  in  dress,  the  oppression  of 
the  poor,  idleness,  foreign  service,  and  foreign  pensions. 
"In  the  pulpit,"  says  one  of  his  companions,  "he  spared 
no  one,  pope,  emperor,  kings,  dukes,  princes,  lords,  not 


ZWINGLE'S  CHARACTER. 


231 


even  the  confederates.  All  his  cncrpry,  and  all  the  joy 
of  his  heart  were  in  God:  accordingly  he  exhorted  all 
the  inhabitants  of  Zurich  to  put  their  confidence  in 
Him  only."  "Never  was  man  heard  to  speak  with 
so  much  authority,"  says  Oswald  Myconius,  who,  with 
joy  and  high  hopes,  watched  the  laboui-s  of  his  friend. 

The  Gospel  could  not  be  preached  in  vain  in  Zurich. 
A  continually  increasing  multitude  of  men  of  all 
chisses,  and  more  csi)ecially  of  the  connnon  people, 
flocked  to  hear  him.  Several  Zurichers  had  ceased  to 
attend  on  public  worsliip.  '•!  derive  no  benefit  from 
the  discourses  of  these  priests,"  often  exclaimed  Fiisslin, 
a  poet,  historian,  and  councillor  of  state;  "they  do  not 
preach  the  things  of  salvation ;  for  they  do  not  com- 
prehend them.  I  see  nothing  in  them  but  covetousness 
and  voluptuousness."  Henry  Riiuschlin,  treasurer  of 
state,  one  who  diligently  read  the  Scriptures,  was  of 
the  same  opinion :  "  The  priests,"  said  he,  met  in 
thousands  at  the  Council  of  Constance  ...  to 
burn  the  best  man  among  them."  These  distinguished 
men,  led  by  curiosity,  went  to  hear  Zwingle's  first 
sennon.  Their  countenances  bespoke  the  emotion 
with  which  they  followed  the  orator.  "  Glory  to 
God!"  said  they,  on  coming  out;  "this  is  a  preacher 
of  the  truth.  He  will  be  our  Moses,  to  deliver  us  from 
Egyptian  darkness."  From  this  moment  they  became 
the  reformer's  intimate  friends.  "Powers  of  the 
world,"  said  Fiisslin,  "  cease  to  proscribe  the  doctrine 
of  Christ !  After  Christ,  the  Son  of  God,  was  put  to 
death,  sinners  were  raised  up.  And  now,  should  you 
destroy  the  preachers  of  truth,  you  will  see  their  places 
supplied  by  glaziers,  carpenters,  potters,  founflers, 
shoemakere,  and  tailors,  who  ^^  ill  teach  with  power." 

In  Zurich,  at  the  outset,  there  was  only  one  shout  of 
admiration ;  but  when  the  first  moment  of  enthusiiism 
was  over,  the  adversary  resumed  courage.  "Worthy 
persons,  alarmed  at  the  idea  of  a  Reformation,  gi\a- 
dually  drew  off  from  Zwingle.  The  violence  of  the 
monks,  which  had  been  veiled  for  an  instant,  reappeared, 
and  the  college  of  canons  resounded  with  complaints. 
Zwingle  stood  immoveable.  His  friends,  beholding  his 
courage,  felt  in  his  presence  as  if  a  man  of  apostolic 
times  had  reappeared.  Among  his  enemies,  some 
scoffed  and  jeered ;  others  uttered  insulting  menaces ; 
but  he  endured  all  with  Christian  patience.  "Whoso," 
he  was  wont  to  say,  "  would  gain  the  wicked  to  Jesus 
Christ,  must  wink  at  many  things," — an  admirable 
sayiug,  which  ought  not  to  be  lost  sight  of. 

His  character  and  general  bearing  towards  all  con- 
tributed, as  much  as  his  discourses,  to  win  their  hearts. 
He  was  at  once  a  true  Christian  and  a  true  republican. 
The  equality  of  mankind  was  not  with  him  a  mere 
watchword ;  it  was  written  on  his  heart,  and  manifested 
in  his  life.  He  hail  neither  that  pharisaical  pride,  nor 
that  mon.istic  giniffness,  which  are  ccpially  offensive  to 
the  simple  and  the  wise  of  the  world.  Men  were 
drawn  towards  him,  and  felt  at  ease  when  conversing 
with  him.  Strong  and  mighty  in  the  pulpit,  he  was 
affable  to  all  whom  he  met  in  the  streets,  or  in  the 
public  squares.  At  the  places  where  the  merchants  or 
incorporations  met,  he  was  often  seen  among  the 
citizens  expounding  the  leading  points  of  Christian 
doctrine,  or  conversing  familiarly  with  them.  He  gave 
the  same  cordial  reception  to  peasant  and  patrician. 


"  He  invited  country  folks  to  dine  with  him,"  says  one 
of  his  bitterest  enemies,  "  walked  with  them,  spoke  to 
them  of  God,  made  the  devil  enter  into  their  hearts, 
and  his  writings  into  their  pockets.  He  even  went  so 
far,  that  the  leading  persons  in  Zurich  visited  those 
peasants,  entertained  them,  and  walked  o\er  tlio  town 
with  them,  shewing  them  all  sorts  of  attention." 

He  continued  to  cultivate  music  "with  moderation," 
saj's  Bullinger :  nevertheless  the  enemies  of  the  Gospel 
loiik  advantage  of  it,  and  called  him  "  the  evan- 
gelical fiule  and  lute  player."  Faber,  having  one  day 
reproacheil  liiin  with  his  fondness  for  music,  Zwingle, 
with  noble  candour,  replied:  "My  dear  Faber,  you 
know  not  what  music  is.  I  have,  it  is  ti-ue,  learned 
to  play  on  the  lute,  the  violin,  and  other  instruments, 
and  am  able  by  these  means  to  pacify  little  children ; 
but  you,  of  course,  are  too  holy  for  music.  Do  you 
not  know  that  David  was  a  skilful  player  on  the 
harp,  and  in  this  way  drove  the  evil  spu-it  out  of  Saul  ? 
.  .  ,  Ah !  if  you  knew  the  sound  of  the  heavenly 
lute,  the  evil  spirit  of  ambition  and  avarice  by  which 
you  are  possessed  would  come  out  of  you  also."  Per- 
haps this  was  Zwingle's  foible,  though  it  was  in  a  spirit 
of  cheerfulness  and  Christian  liberty  that  he  cultivated 
this  art,  which  religion  has  always  associated  with  her 
sublimest  flights.  He  set  some  of  his  Christian  jiocms 
to  music,  and  did  not  scruple  sometimes  to  amuse  the 
youngest  of  his  flock  with  his  lute.  He  shewed  the  same 
good  nature  to  the  poor.  "  He  ate  and  di'ank,"  says 
one  of  his  contemporaries,  "with  all  who  invited  him, — 
he  despised  no  one ;  he  was  most  compassionate  to  the 
poor ;  always  firm  and  always  joyfiU  in  bad  as  in  good 
fortune.  No  evil  made  him  afraid ;  his  words  were  at 
all  times  full  of  energy,  and  his  heart  fidl  of  conso- 
lation." Thus  Zwingle  increased  in  popularity — after 
the  example  of  his  Master,  seated  alternately  at  the 
table  of  the  common  people,  and  the  banquet  of  the 
great,  but  still  constantly  intent  on  the  work  to  which 
God  had  called  him. 

At  the  same  time  he  was  an  indefatigable  student. 
In  the  morning,  till  ten,  he  read,  wrote,  and  translated : 
Hebrew,  in  particular,  engaged  his  attention.  After 
dinner  he  attended  to  those  who  had  anything  to  tell 
him,  or  any  advice  to  ask  of  him :  took  a  walk  with 
his  friends,  and  visited  his  hearers.  At  two  he  resumed 
his  studies.  He  took  a  short  walk  after  supper,  and 
afterwards  ivrote  letters  which  often  occupied  him  tOl 
midnight.  He  always  stood  when  he  studied,  and  did 
not  allow  himself  to  be  interrupted  unless  on  important 
business. 

But  the  labours  of  a  single  individual  were  not 
sufficient.  A  person,  named  Lucian,  one  day  came  to 
him  with  the  writings  of  the  German  refonner.  He 
had  been  sent  by  Rhenan,  a  learned  man,  then  resident 
at  Biile,  and  indefatigable  in  circulating  the  reformer's 
writings  throughout  Switzerland.  Rhenan  had  become 
aware  that  the  hawking  of  books  was  an  important 
means  of  diffusing  evangelical  doctrine.  Lucian  had 
travelled  almost  over  the  whole  of  Switzerland,  and 
knew  everybody.  "See,"  said  Rhenan  to  Zwingle, 
"  whether  this  Lucian  has  the  necessary  prudence  and 
ability;  if  he  has,  let  him  go  from  town  to  town,  burgh 
to  burgh,  village  to  village,  and  even  from  house  to 
house,    among    the    Swiss,    with   Luther's    writings. 


232 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


especially  bis  exposition  on  the  Lord's  Prayer,  -written 
for  the  laity.  The  more  he  is  known  the  more  pur- 
chasers will  he  find.  But  care  must  be  taken  not  to 
let  bini  hawk  other  books.  If  he  has  none  but  Luther's, 
his  sale  of  them  will  be  the  greater."  Thus  the  humble 
roof  of  many  a  Swiss  family  was  penetrated  with  some 
rays  of  light.  There  was  one  other  book,  however, 
which  Zwingle  should  have  caused  to  be  hawked  with 
those  of  Luther — the  Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ. 


CHAPTER  Vn. 

Indulgences — Samson  at  Berne — Samson  at  Baden— The  Dean  of  Brcmgarten 
— Yoiras  Henry  BuJlinger — Samson  and  the  Dean— Internal  Struggles 
of  Zwingle — Zwingle  against  Indulgences — Samson  Dismissed. 

Zwingle  had  not  long  to  wait  for  an  opportunity  of 
displaying  his  zeal  in  a  new  vocation.  Samson,  the 
famous  indulgence  merchant,  was  slowly  approaching 
Zurich.  This  miserable  trafficker  had  come  from 
Schwitz  to  Zug,  20th  September,  1518,  and  had  re- 
mained there  three  days.  An  immense  crowd  had 
gathered  round  him.  The  poorest  were  the  most 
eager,  so  that  they  prevented  the  rich  from  coming 
forward.  Tiiis  did  not  suit  the  monk ;  accordingly, 
one  of  his  attendants  began  to  bawl  out  to  the  popu- 
lace :  "  Good  people,  do  not  throng  so !  Let  those 
come  who  have  money.  We  wUl  afterwards  try  to 
content  those  who  have  none."  From  Zug,  Samson 
and  his  band  repaired  to  Lucerne ;  from  Lucerne  to 


Unterwalden  ;  then  crossing  the  fertile  Alps  with  their 
rich  valleys,  passing  beneath  the  eternal  ice  of  Ober- 
land,  and  in  these  spots,  the  grandest  in  Switzerland, 
exposing  their  Roman  meichandise,  they  arrived 
neir  Beine  The  monk  via'i  at  first  prohibited  to  enter 
the  town,  but  su  1  1  f  1  t  in  ilitaining  an  intro- 
duction b)  lUL  ui      t  1    I  111  lie  had  in  his  pay. 


UNTERWALDEN. 

Exhibiting  his  wares  in  the  church  of  Saint  Vincent, 
he  began  to  cry  louder  than  ever.  "  Here,"  said  he  to 
the  rich,  "are  indulgences  on  parchment  for  a  crown!" 
"  There,"  said  he  to  the  poor,  "  are  indulgences  on 
ordinary  paper  for  two  farthings  ! "  One  day,  a  cele- 
brated knight,  James  de  Stein,  came  up  prancing  on 
I   a  dapple-gi-ey  horse;  the  monk  greatly  admired  the 


horse.  "  Give  me,"  says  the  kniglit.  "  an  indulgence 
for  myself,  for  my  troop  of  five  hundred  strong,  for  all 
my  vassals  of  Belp,  and  all  my  ancestors ;  I  will  give 
you  my  dapple-grey  horse  in  exchange."  It  was  a 
high  price  for  the  horse,  but  the  courser  pleased  the 


Franciscan,  and  the  bargain  was  struck.  The  horse 
went  to  the  monk's  stable ;  and  all  these  souls  were 
declared  for  ever  exempted  from  hell.  Another  day, 
he  gave  a  burgher,  for  thirteen  florins,  an  indulgence, 
in  virtue   of  which  his   confessor  was  authorized  to 


SAMSON  AT  BADEN. 


absolve  him  from  any  species  of  pcrjurj-.  So  much 
was  Samson  in  repute,  that  Councillor  May,  an  en- 
lightened old  man,  having  said  something  against  him, 
was  obliged  to  go  down  on  his  knees  and  ask  pardon 
of  the  arrogant  monk. 

This  Wits  the  monk's  last  day,  and  a  loud  ringing  of 
bells  announced  his  immediate  departure  from  Berne. 
Samson  was  in  the  church  standing  on  the  steps  of  the 
high  altar.  Canon  Henry  Lupulus,  formerly  Zwingle's 
master,  was  acting  as  his  interpreter.  "When  the 
wolf  and  the  fox  rendezvous  together  in  the  field,"  said 
Canon  Anselm,  turning  to  the  schulthess  of  AValleville, 
'•  the  best  thing  for  you,  worthy  sir,  is  to  put  your 
sheep  and  geese  in  safety."  But  the  monk  cared  little 
for  these  sarcasms,  which,  besides,  did  not  reach  his 
ear.  "  Kneel,"  said  he  to  the  superstitious  crowd ; 
'■  repeat  three  Paters,  three  Are  Marias,  and  your  soils 
will  forthwith  be  as  pure  as  at  the  moment  of  baptism." 
Then  all  the  people  fell  upon  their  knees.  Samsou, 
wishing  even  to  outdo  himself,  exclaimed :  "  I  deliver 
from  the  torments  of  pm-gatory  and  hell  all  the  spirits 
of  the  (lop.nted  Bernese,  whatever  may  have  been  the 
maimer  and  place  of  their  death."  These  jugglers,  like 
those  at  fairs,  kept  their  finest  feat  for  the  last. 

Samsou  set  out  with  a  heavy  purse  towards  Zurich, 
crossing  Argovia  and  Baden.  The  farther  on  he  got, 
the  monk,  whose,  appearance,  on  passing  the  Alps,  was 
so  shaliby,  prooceilcd  with  more  pride  and  splendour. 
The  Bishop  of  Constance,  irritated  that  Samson  had 
not  employed  him  to  legalize  his  bulls,  had  forbidden 
all  the  curates  of  his  diocese  to  open  their  churches  to 
him.  At  Baden,  nevertheless,  the  curate  durst  not 
long  oppose  his  traffic.  This  redoubled  the  monk's 
effrontery.  Making  the  round  of  the  burying-ground 
at  the  head  of  a  procession,  he  seemed  to  fix  his  eyes 
on  some  object  in  the  air,  while  his  acolytes  sung  the 
hymn  for  the  dead,  and,  pretending  to  see  souls  flying 
from  the  burying-gi-ouud  to  heaven,  he  exclaimed : 
'••Ecce  volant! — See  how  they  fly!"  One  day  an  inha- 
bitant of  the  place  getting  up  into  the  chm'ch  steeple, 
a  great  number  of  feathers  were  soon  seen  in  the  air 
falling  down  on  the  astonished  procession  :  "  See  how 
they  fly!"  exclaimed  the  wag  of  Baden,  shaking  a  fea- 
ther cushion  from  the  steeple.  Many  began  to  laugh. 
Samson  fell  into  a  rage,  and  could  not  be  appeased  till 
he  learned  that  the  individual  was  subject  to  fits  of 
derangement.     Ho  left  Baden  in  a  huff. 

Continuing  his  journey,  he  arrived,  towards  the  end 
of  P'ebruary,  1519,  at  Bremgarten,  at  the  solicitation 
of  the  schulthess  and  second  curate,  who  had  seen  him 
at  Baden.  No  individual  in  that  district  had  a  higher 
reputation  than  DeanBuUingerof  Bremgarten.  Though 
far  from  enlightened  as  to  the  errors  of  the  Church  and 
the  Word  of  God,  being  open,  zealous,  eloquent,  kind 
to  the  poor,  and  ready  to  do  a  service  to  the  humblest, 
he  was  loved  by  everybody.  He  had,  in  his  youth, 
formed  a  connection  with  the  daughter  of  a  councillor 
of  the  place.  This  was  the  usual  expedient  of  such  of 
the  priests  as  were  unwilling  to  live  in  general  licen- 
tiousness. Anna  had  borne  him  five  sons,  but  this  had 
in  no  way  lessened  the  respect  which  the  dean  enjoyed. 
There  was  not  in  Switzerland  a  more  hospitable  house 
than  his.  A  great  lover  of  the  chase,  he  was  seen  sur- 
rounded with  ten  or  twelve  dogs,  and  accompanied  by 


the  barons  of  Hallwyll,  the  abbot  Mury,  and  the  gentry 
of  Zurich,  scouring  the  fields  and  forests  around.  He 
kept  open  table,  and  none  of  his  guests  was  more  jovial 
than  himself.  When  the  deputies  to  the  diet  were  on 
their  way  to  Baden,  on  passing  through  Bremgarten, 
they  failed  not  to  take  their  seats  at  the  dean's  table. 
"  Bullinger,"  said  they,  "  keeps  court  like  the  most 
powerful  baron." 

In  this  house  strangers  remarked  a  child  of  an  intel- 
ligent countenance.  Henry,  one  of  the  dean's  sons, 
from  his  earliest  years  had  many  narrow  escapes. 
Having  been  seized  with  the  plague,  preparations  were 
making  for  his  funeral  when  he  shewed  some  signs  of 
life,  and  was  restored  to  his  delighted  pareBts.  On  an- 
other occasion,  a  wandering  beggar,  having  won  him 
by  caresses,  was  carrying  him  off  from  his  family, 
when  some  persons  in  passing  recogjizcd  and  rescued 
him.  At  three  years  of  age  he  could  repeat  the  Lord's 
prayer  and  the  Apostles'  creed.  One  day,  having  slipt 
into  the  church,  he  got  into  his  father's  pulpit,  stood 
up  gravely,  and  at  the  full  stretch  of  his  voice,  cried 
out:  "I  believe  in  God  the  Father,"  and  so  on.  At 
twelve  he  was  sent  to  the  Latin  school  of  Emmeric, 
his  heart  overwhelmed  with  fear ;  for  those  times  were 
dangerous  for  a  young  boy  without  experience.  When 
the  students  of  an  university  thought  its  discipline  too 
severe,  they  not  unfrequently  left  it  in  troops,  carrying 
the  children  with  them,  and  encamped  in  the  woods, 
from  which  they  sent  the  youngest  of  their  number  to 
beg ;  or  sometimes,  with  arms  in  their  hands,  they 
rushed  forth  on  the  passing  traveller,  robbed  him,  and 
then  consumed  their  booty  in  debauchery.  Henry  was 
happily  kept  from  evil  in  this  distant  abode.  Like 
Luther,  he  gained  his  livelihood  by  singing  before  the 
houses ;  for  his  father  wished  to  teach  him  to  live  by 
his  own  shifts.  He  was  sixteen  when  he  opened  a 
New  Testament.  "  I  found  in  it,"  says  he,  "  every- 
thing necessary  for  man's  salvation,  and  thenceforth  I 
laid  it  down  as  a  principle,  to  follow  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures alone,  and  reject  all  human  additions.  I  believe 
neither  the  Fathers  nor  myself,  but  explain  Scripture 
by  Scripture,  without  adding  anything  or  taking  any- 
thing away."  God  was  thus  preparing  this  young  man, 
who  was  one  day  to  succeed  Zwingle.  He  is  the  author 
of  the  manuscript  journal  which  we  often  quote. 

About  this  time  Samson  arrived  at  Bremgarten  with 
all  his  train.  The  bold  dean,  undismayed  by  this  petty 
Italian  army,  prohibited  the  monk  from  vending  his 
wares  in  his  neighbourhood.  The  schulthess,  town- 
clerk,  and  second  pastor,  Samson's  friends,  had  met  in 
a  room  of  the  inn  at  which  he  had  alighted,  and  were 
standing  quite  disconcerted  around  the  impatient  monk. 
The  dean  arrived.  "  Here  are  the  papal  bulls,"  said  the 
monk  to  him;  "open  your  church." 

The  Dean. — "I  will  not  allow  the  purses  of  my 
parishioners  to  be  emptied  by  means  of  letters  not 
authenticated,  for  the  bishop  has  not  legalized  them." 

The  Monk  (in  a  solemn  tone.) — "  The  pope  is  above 
the  bishop.  I  enjoin  you  not  to  deprive  your  flock  of 
this  distinguished  gi-ace." 

The  Dean. — "  Should  it  cost  me  my  life,  I  wont  open 
my  church." 

Tlte  Monk  {with  indignation.) — "Rebellious  priest! 
in  the  name  of  our  most  holy  lord  the  pope,  I  pro- 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


nouuce  against  you  the  greater  excommunication,  and 
will  not  absolve  you  till  you  ransom  your  unheard-of 
audacity  at  the  price  of  three  hundred  ducats."     .     . 

The  Dean  {turning  on  his  heel  and  retiring.) — "  I  will 
know  how  to  answer  before  my  lawful  judges  ;  as  for 
you  and  your  excommunication,  I  have  nothing  to  do 
with  them." 

The  Monk  {transported  ivith  rage.) — "  Impudent  brute! 
I  am  on  my  way  to  Zurich,  and  will  there  lay  my  com- 
plaint before  the  deputies  of  the  confederation." 

The  Bean. — "  I  can  appear  there  as  well  as  you,  and 
this  instant  I  set  out." 

While  these  things  were  taking  place  at  Bremgarten, 
Zwingle,  who  saw  the  enemy  gradually  approaching, 
kept  preaching  vigorously  against  indulgences.  Vicar 
Faber  of  Constance  encouraged  him,  promising  him  the 
bishop's  support.  "  I  know,"  said  Samson,  while  pro- 
ceeding towards  Zurich,  "  that  Zwingle  will  attack  me  ; 
but  I  will  stop  his  mouth."  Zwingle  was,  in  truth,  too 
much  alive  to  the  value  of  pardou  by  Christ,  not  to 
attack  the  paper  indulgences  of  these  men.  Often,  like 
Luther,  he  trembled  because  of  sin  ;  but  in  the  Saviour 
found  deliverance  from  his  fears.  This  modest  but 
brave  man  was  advancing  in  the  knowledge  of  God. 
"  When  Satan  frightens  me,"  said  he,  "  by  crying  to 
me :  '  You  do  not  this,  and  you  do  not  that,  and  yet 
God  commands  them !' — immediately  the  soft  voice  of 
the  Gospel  consoles  me,  saying:  'What  thou  canst  not 
do  (and  assuredly  thou  canst  do  nothing)  Christ  does 
for  thee.'  Yes,"  continues  the  pious  evangelist,  "when 
my  heart  is  agonized  because  of  my  powerlessness, 
and  the  feebleness  of  my  ilesh,  my  spirit  revives  at 
the  sound  of  this  glad  news :  Christ  is  thy  innocence ! 
Christ  is  thy  righteousness  !  Christ  is  thy  salvation ! 
Thou  art  nothing — thou  canst  do  nothing !  Christ  is 
the  Alpha  and  the  Omega !  Christ  is  all,  and  can  do 
all !  All  created  things  will  forsake  and  deceive  thee ; 
but  Christ,  the  holy  and  righteous  One,  will  receive 
and  justify  thee.  .  .  .  Yes,"  exclaims  Zwingle, 
"  He  is  our  righteousness,  and  the  righteousness  of  all 
who  shall  ever  appear  as  righteous  before  the  judgment- 
seat  of  God ! "     .     .     . 

Indulgences  could  not  stand  a  moment  when  cou- 
fronted  with  such  truths ;  and  hence  Zwingle  never 
hesitated  to  attack  them.  "  No  man,"  said  he,  "  is  able 
to  forgive  sins.  Christ  alone,  very  God  and  very  man, 
is  able  to  do  it.  Go,  buy  indulgences ;  .  .  .  but 
rest  assured  you  are  not  at  all  forgiven.  Those  who 
vend  forgiveness  of  sins  for  money  are  the  companions 
of  Simon  Magus,  the  friends  of  Balaam,  and  the  ambas- 
sadors of  Satan." 

Dean  BuUinger,  still  warm  from  his  conference  with 
the  monk,  arrived  at  Zurich  before  him.  He  came  to 
complain  to  the  diet  against  this  shameless  dealer  and 
his  traffic.  Envoys  from  the  bishop  had  arrived  for 
tlie  same  purpose.  They  made  common  cause,  and 
promised  to  support  each  other.  The  spirit  which  ani- 
mated Zwingle  breathed  upon  this  town,  and  the  coun- 
cil of  state  resolved  to  oppose  the  monk's  entry  into 
Zurich. 

Samson  had  arrived  in  the  suburbs,  and  alighted  at 
an  inn.  One  foot  was  already  on  the  stirrup  prepara- 
tory to  his  entry,  when  deputies  from  the  council 
arrived,  and  while  making  the  customary  offer  of  wine 


to  him  as  a  papal  envoy,  intimated  to  him  that  he 
might  dispense  with  appearing  in  Zurich.  "I  have 
something  to  communicate  to  the  diet  in  the  name  of 
his  holiness,"  replied  the  monk.  It  was  a  trick. 
However,  it  was  resolved  to  admit  him ;  but  as  he 
spoke  only  of  his  bulls,  he  was  dismissed,  after  being 
compelled  to  retract  the  excommunication  which  he  had 
pronounced  against  the  Dean  of  Bremgarten.  He  went 
off  in  a  rage,  and  the  pope,  shortly  after,  recalled  him 
to  Italy.  A  car  drawn  by  three  horses,  and  loaded 
with  the  money  of  which  his  lies  had  robbed  the  poor, 
preceded  him  on  the  steep  tracts  of  St.  Gothard,  which, 
eight  months  before,  he  had  crossed  in  poverty,  with- 
out style,  merely  the  bearer  of  a  few  j)apers. 

On  this  occasion  the  Helvetic  shewed  more  firmness 
than  the  Germanic  diet.  The  reason  was,  because 
no  cardinals  and  bishops  sat  in  it.  Hence  the  pope, 
deprived  of  these  supports,  dealt  more  gently  with 
Switzerland  than  Germany.  In  other  respects,  the 
affair  of  indulgences,  which  played  so  important  a  part 
in  the  Reformation  of  Germany,  is  only  an  episode  in 
that  of  Switzerland. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Tlie  Labours  of  Zwingle— The  Baths  of  PfefTers— God's  Time— Hie  Great 
Death— Zwingle  seized  with  the  Plague— His  Enemies— His  Friends 
—Convalescence— General  Joy— Effect  of  the  Plague— Myconius  at 
Lucerne— Oswald  encourages  Zwingle— Zwingle  at  B41e— Capito  called 
to  Mentz— Hedio  at  Bile- An  Unnatural  Son— Preparation  for  B.itUe. 

Zwingle  did  not  spare  himself.  His  many  labours 
called  for  some  relaxation,  and  he  was  ordered  to  the 
baths  of  Pfeffers.  "Ah!"  said  Herus,  one  of  the  pupils 
who  lodged  with  him,  and  who  thus  expressed  the 
feeling  of  all  who  knew  Zwingle,  "  had  I  a  hundred 
tongues,  a  hundred  mouths,  a  brazen  throat,  as  Virgil 
expresses  it;  or  rather,  had  I  the  eloquence  of  Cicero, 
how  could  I  express  all  I  owe  you,  and  all  that  I  feel 
at  this  separation?"  Zwingle,  however,  set  out  and 
reached  Pfeffers  through  the  astonishing  gorge  formed 
by  the  impetuous  torrent  of  the  Jamina.  He  descended 
into  that  infernal  abyss,  as  the  hermit  David  called  it, 
and  arrived  at  the  baths,  which  are  perpetually  agitated 
by  the  dashing  of  the  torrent,  and  bedewed  by  the 
spray  of  its  foaming  water.  Where  Zwingle  lodged  it 
was  so  dark  that  caudles  were  burnt  at  mid-day.  He 
was  even  assured  by  the  inmates  that  frightful  phan- 
toms sometimes  appeared  in  the  darkness. 

Even  here  Zwingle  found  opportunity  to  serve  his 
Master.  His  affability  won  the  heart  of  several  of 
the  patients,  among  others  a  celebrated  poet,  Philip 
Ingentinus,  professor  at  Friburg,  in  Brigau,  who 
thenceforward  became  a  zealous  supporter  of  the 
Reformation. 

God  watched  over  His  own  work,  and  was  pleased 
to  hasten  it.  Zwingle's  defect  lay  in  his  strength. 
Strong  in  body,  strong  in  character,  strong  in  talents, 
he  was  to  see  all  these  varieties  of  strength  broken, 
that  he  might  thereby  become  such  an  instrument  as 
God  loves  to  employ.     He  stood  in  need  of  a  baptism, 


ZWINGLi:  ATTACKED  BY  THE  PLAGUE. 


that  of  adversity,  infirmity,  feebleness,  and  pain.  Such 
11  baptism  Luther  had  received  at  that  period  of  agony 
when  the  eill  and  king  passages  of  the  convent  of 
Erfurt  rosoiuided  with  his  cries.  Zwingle  was  to 
reeii\ «•  it  by  being  brought  into  contact  witli  sickness 
and  <leath.  Tiie  heroes  of  this  world — tlio  Chai-les 
Tweh'ths  and  Napoleons — have  a  moment  which  is 
decisive  of  their  career  and  their  glory,  and  it  is  when 
they  all  at  once  become  conscious  of  their  strength. 
There  is  an  analogous  moment  in  the  life  of  God's 
heroes,  but  it  is  in  a  contraiy  direction ;  it  is  when 
tiiey  recognise  their  impotence  and  nothingness;  thence- 
forth they  receive  strength  from  on  high.  Such  a 
work  as  thai  df  «Iiich  Z\viiii;le  was  to  be  the  instru- 
ment is  no\rr  .■i.-,'..in|ili-Iiid  l.y  man's  natural  strength; 
it  would  inniii'dlal.ly  -willi.r  away  like  a  tree  trans- 
planted after  its  fidl  growtli,  and  when  in  full  leaf.  A 
plant  must  be  feeble  in  order  to  take  root,  and  a  grain 
of  corn  must  die  in  the  gi-ouud  before  it  can  yield  a 
full  return.  God  led  ZwiiiL'h".  and  with  him  the  work 
of  which  he  was  the  stay,  lo  iIm'  nal.s  of  the  gi-ave. 
It  is  from  among  bones  ami  ilarknr--.  and  the  dust  of 
the  dead,  that  God  is  plea.siil  tu  take  the  instruments, 
by  moans  of  which  He  illumines,  regenerates,  and 
revives  the  earth. 

Zwingle  was  hidden  among  the  immense  rocks  which 
hem  in  the  furious  torrent  of  the  Jamina,  when  he 
unexpectedly  learned  that  the  plague,  or  as  it  was 
termed,  "  the  great  death"  was  at  Zurich.  This  dread- 
ful scourge  broke  out  in  August,  on  St.  Lawrence  day, 
lasted  till  Candlemas,  and  carried  off  two  thousand 
five  hundred  persons.  The  young  people  who  lodged 
with  Zwingle  had  immediately  left,  conformably  to 
directions  which  he  had  given.  His  house  was  empty; 
but  it  was  to  him  the  very  moment  to  return.  He 
hunlrdly  (luillid  Pfeffers,  and  reappearing  in  the 
lioM'iii  lit  lii~  ll(iek,  now  decimated  by  the  plague,  he 
inuaciliaU'ly  m  nt  to  Wildhaus  for  his  young  brother, 
Andrew,  ^\ ho  A\ished  to  attend  him.  From  that 
moment  he  devoted  himself  entirely  to  the  victims  of 
this  dreadful  scourge.  Every  day  he  preached  Christ 
and  His  consolations  to  the  sick.  His  friends,  delighted 
to  see  him  safe  aud  sound  in  the  midst  of  so  many  fatal 
darts,  still  felt  a  secret  alarm.  Conrad  Brunner,  who 
himself  died  of  the  plague  a  few  months  after,  writmg 
him  from  Bille,  said:  "  Do  good,  but  at  the  same  time 
remember  to  take  care  of  your  life."  It  was  too  late: 
Zwingle  was  seized  with  the  plague.  The  great 
preacher  of  Switzerland  was  stretched  on  a  bed  from 
which,  perhaps,  he  was  never  again  to  rise.  He  com- 
muned with  himself,  and  turned  his  eye  heavenward. 
He  knew  that  Christ  had  given  him  a  sure  inheritance, 
aud  disclosing  the  feelings  of  his  heart  in  a  hymn 
remarkable  for  unction  and  simplicity,  of  which,  not 
being  able  to  give  the  antique  and  expressive  phrase- 
ology, we  have  endeavoured  to  preserve  the  rhythm 
and  literal  meaning,  he  exclaimed: — 

My  door  lias  oponod    .     .    . 

Death  appears. 
BIy  God  !  my  strength  1 

Dispel  all  fears. 
0  Jesus  I  raise 

Thy  pierced  arm. 
And  break  the  sword 

That  caused  alami. 


But  if  my  soul, 
In  life's  mid-day, 

Thy  voice  recalls, 
Tlieu  I  obey. 

Ah  I  let  me  die, 

1-or  I  am  tliiue; 
Thy 


Meanwhile  the  disease  gains  ground,  and  this  man, 
the  hope  of  the  Church  and  of  Switzerland,  is  beheld 
by  his  despairing  friends  as  about  to  become  tlie  ])rcy 
of  the  tomb.  His  senses  and  strength  forsake  him. 
His  heart  becomes  alarmed,  but  he  is  still  able  to  turn 
towai'ds  God,  aud  exclaims: — 


My  hca 
Death  is 


Lo  I  Satan  strains 
To  snatch  his  prey; 


Canon  Hoffman,  sincere  is  his  own  belief,  could  not 
bear  the  idea  of  allowing  Zwingle  to  die  in  the  errors 
which  he  had  preached.  Accordingly  he  waited  on 
the  provost  of  the  chapter,  and  said  to  him :  "  Think 
of  the  danger  of  his  soul.  Does  he  not  give  the  name 
of  fantastical  innovators  to  all  the  doctors  who  have 
appeared  for  the  last  three  hundred  and  eighty  years 
and  more — to  Alexander  Hales,  St.  Bonaventura, 
Albert  the  Great,  Thomas  Aquinas,  and  all  the  canon- 
ists? Does  he  not  maintain  that  their  doctrines  arc 
the  dreams  which  they  dreamed  in  their  cowls  within 
the  walls  of  their  cloisters?  Better  had  it  been  for 
the  town  of  Zurich  that  Zwingle  had,  for  a  series  of 
years,  destroyed  our  vintage  and  harvest!  There  he 
lies  at  the  brink  of  death!  Do,  I  beseech  you,  save 
his  poor  soul ! "  It  would  seem  that  the  provost  was 
more  enlightened  than  the  canon,  and  deemed  it  uu- 
necessaiy  to  convert  Zwnglc  to  St.  Bonaventura  and 
Albert  tlio  Great.     He  was  left  at  peace. 

The  whole  town  was  in  mourning.  All  the  faithful 
cried  to  God  night  and  day,  beseeching  Him  to  restore 
their  faithf  id  pastor.  Terror  had  passed  from  Zurich  to 
the  mountains  of  the  Tockenburg,  where  also  the  plague 
had  appeared.  Seven  or  eight  persons  had  perished 
in  the  village,  among  them  a  servant  of  Nicolas,  a 
brother  of  Zwingle.  No  letter  was  received  from  the 
reformer,  and  his  young  brother  Andrew  wrote:  "Tell 
mo,  my  dear  brother,  in  what  state  you  are.  The 
abbot  and  all  our  brothers  desire  to  be  remembered." 
As  the  parents  of  Zwingle  are  not  mentioned,  it  would 
seem  that  they  were  now  dead. 

The  news  of  Zwingle's  illness,  and  even  a  rumour 
of   his   death,  spread   in  Sv/itzerland  and  Germany. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


"Alas!"  exclaimed  Hedio  In  tears,  "the  satety  of  the 
country,  the  Gospel  trumpet  the  magnanimous  herald 
of  truth,  is  smitten  with  death  in  the  flower  of  his  Me. 
and,  so  to  speak,  in  the  spring-tide  of  his  days!"  When 
the  news  reached  Bale  the  whole  town  was  filled  with 
lamentation  and  mourning. 

The  spark  of  life  which  remained  in  Zwingle  was, 
however,  rekindled.  Though  his  body  was  still  feeble, 
his  soul  was  impressed  with  the  unaltered  conviction, 
that  God  had  called  him  to  replace  the  torch  of  His 
Word  on  the  candlestick  of  the  Church.  The  plague 
had  abandoned  its  victim,  and  Zwingle  exclaims  with 
emotion  — 

My  God !  my  Father 
Healed  by  thee, 


Now  sin  no  more 

Shall  mark  my  days 
My  mouth,  henceforth. 

Shall  sing  thy  praise. 

The  uncertain  hour, 

Come  when  it  may, 
Perchance  may  bring 

Still  worse  dismay.i 

But,  let  it  come, 

Withjoy  I'll  rise. 
And  bear  my  yoke 

Straight  to  the  skies. 

Zwingle  was  no  sooner  able  to  hold  the  pen,  (this 
was  in  the  beginning  of  November,)  than  he  wrote  to 
his  family.  This  gave  inexpressible  delight  to  them 
all,  especially  to  his  young  brother,  Andrew,  who  him- 
self died  of  the  plague  the  following  year,  and  at  whose 
death  Uli'ich — to  nse  his  own  words — wept  and  cried 
like  a  woman.  At  Bale,  Conrad  Bruuner,  a  friend  of 
Zwingle,  and  Bruno  Amerbach,  a  famous  printer,  both 
young  men,  were  cut  off  after  three  days'  illness.  The 
rumour  having  spread  in  this  town  that  Zwingle  also 
had  fallen,  the  whole  university  was  in  mourning. 
"  He  whom  God  loves  is  perfected  in  the  flower  of  his 
life,"  said  they.  How  great  was  there  joy  when 
CoUinus,  a  student  of  Lucerne,  and  afterwards  a  mer- 
chant in  Zurich,  brought  word  that  Zwingle  had 
escaped  the  jaws  of  death !  John  Faber,  vicar  to  the 
Bishop  of  Constance,  long  the  friend,  and  afterwards 
the  most  violent  adversary  of  Zwingle,  wrote  to 
him :  "  Oh  my  dear  Ulrich,  how  delighted  I  am  to 
learn  that  you  have  escaped  the  jaws  of  cruel  death ! 
AVlieu  you  are  in  danger  the  Christian  commonwealth 
is  threatened.  The  design  of  the  Lord  in  these  trials 
is  to  urge  you  forward  in  the  pursuit  of  eternal  life." 

This  was,  indeed,  the  design,  and  it  was  ac- 
complished, though  in  a  different  way  from  what 
Faber  anticipated.  The  plague  of  1519,  which  made 
such  fearful  ravages  in  the  north  of  Switzerland,  was, 
in  the  hand  of  God,  a  powerful  means  of  converting  a 
gi-eat  number  of  persons.  But  on  none  had  it  a  greater 
influence  than  on  Zwingle.  Hitherto  he  had  been  too 
much  disposed  to  regard  the  Gospel  as  mere  doctrine ; 
but  now  it  became  a  great  reality.  He  returned  from 
the  gates  of  the  grave  with  a  new  heart.    His  zeal  was 


1  Words  which 
plains  of  Cappel. 


;  strikingly  fulfilled,  twelve  years  after,  on  the  bloody 


more  active,  his  life  more  holy,  his  word  more  free, 
Christian,  and  powerful.  This  was  the  period  of 
Zwingle's  complete  emancipation.  He  from  this  time 
devoted  himself  to  God.  The  new  life  thus  given  to 
the  reformer  was  communicated  at  the  same  time  to 
the  Swiss  Reformation.  The  Divine  rod,  the  great 
death.,  in  passing  over  all  their  mountains,  and  descend- 
ing into  all  their  valleys,  added  to  the  sacredness  of 
the  movement  which  was  then  taking  place.  The 
Reformation  being  plunged,  like  Zwingle,  into  the 
waters  of  affliction  and  of  grace,  came  forth  purer  and 
more  animated.  In  regard  to  the  regeneration  of 
Switzerland,  the  Gospel  sun  was  now  at  its  height. 

Zwingle,  who  still  strongly  felt  the  want  of  new 
strength,  received  it  in  intercourse  with  his  friends. 
His  closest  intimacy  was  with  Myconius.  They  walked 
hand  in  hand,  like  Luther  and  Melancthon.  Oswald 
was  happy  at  Zui-ich.  It  is  true,  his  position  was 
cramped ;  but  everything  was  softened  by  the  virtues 
of  his  modest  spouse.  It  was  of  her  that  Glarean 
said :  "  Were  I  to  meet  a  young  girl  resembling  her,  I 
would  prefer  her  to  the  daughter  of  a  king."  But  a 
faithful  voice  was  often  heard  disturbing  the  sweet 
friendship  of  Zwingle  and  Myconius.  It  was  that  of 
Canon  Xylotect,  who,  calling  to  Oswald  from  Lucerue, 
summoned  him  to  return  to  his  country.  "  Lucerne," 
said  he  to  him,  "  not  Zurich,  is  your  country.  You 
say  that  the  Zurichers  are  your  friends  :  granted ;  but 
do  you  know  what  the  evening  star  will  bring  you  ? 
Serve  your  country.  This  I  advise,  I  implore,  and,  if 
I  am  able,  command."  Xylotect,  not  confining  hun- 
self  to  words,  procured  the  appointment  of  Myconius 
to  the  college  school  of  Lucerne.  After  this  Oswald 
no  longer  hesitated.  He  saw  the  finger  of  God  in  the 
appointment,  and  determined  to  make  the  sacrifice, 
how  great  soever  it  might  be.  Who  could  say  whether 
he  might  not  be  an  instrument,  in  the  hand  of  the 
Lord,  to  diffuse  the  doctrine  of  peace  in  warlike 
Lucerne?  But  how  painful  the  separation  between 
Zwingle  and  Myconius !  They  parted  in  tears.  Ulrich 
shortly  after  wrote  to  Oswald :  "  Your  departure  has 
been  as  serious  a  loss  to  the  cause  which  I  defend,  as 
that  which  is  sustained  by  an  array  in  battle  array 
when  one  of  its  wings  is  destroyed.  Ah  1  I  now  am 
aware  of  all  that  my  Myconius  was  able  to  do,  and 
how  often,  without  my  knowing  it,  he  maintained  the 
cause  of  Christ." 

Zwingle  felt  the  loss  of  his  friend  the  more,  because 
the  plague  had  left  him  in  a  state  of  great  feebleness. 
Writing  on  the  30th  November,  1519,  he  says:  "It 
has  weakened  my  memory  and  wasted  my  intellect." 
When  scarcely  convalescent,  he  had  resumed  all  his 
labours.  "  But,"  said  he,  "  in  preaching,  I  often  lose 
the  thread  of  my  discourse.  I  feel  languid  in  all 
my  members,  and  somewhat  as  if  I  were  dead.' 
Moreover,  Zwuigle,  by  his  opposition  to  indulgences, 
had  excited  the  wi-ath  of  their  partisans.  Oswald 
strengthened  his  friend  by  letters  which  he  wrote  him 
from  Lucerne.  And  did  he  not  also  receive  pledges  of 
assistance  from  the  Lord,  in  the  protection  which  He 
gave  to  the  Saxon  champion  who  was  gaining  sucli 
important  victories  over  Rome?  "AYhat  think  you," 
said  Myconius  to  Zwingle,  "  of  the  cause  of  Luther  ? 
For  my  part,  I  have  no  fear  either  for  the  Gospel  or 


ZWINGLE  AT  BALE.                                                                       237 

for  him.     If  God  does  not  protect  His  tnith,  who  will 

with  indignation  against  the  priests,  raised  a  tumult  in 

protect  it?     All  that  I  ask  of  the  Lord  is,  not  to  with- 

the town.     Hedio  was  proposed  as  his  successor;  but 

draw  His  aid  from  those  who  hold  nothing  dearer  than 

some  objected  to  his  youth,  while  others  said :   "  He  is 

His  Gospel.     Continue  as   ymi   havo   biLmn,    ntnl   an 

his  pupil."     "Truth  bites,"  said  Ile.lio:   "it  is  not  ad- 

abundant  recompense  awaits  \(. 11  in   lM:n.ii." 

varilaueous  to   offend   lim  deli,  at.!    ears   bv   telliiiir   it. 

Tiic    visit   of    an    old                                                                   «»»%>mbii»^bs»^^«i««j»imjv'- ''V*««««fflw-/w //•? 

friend  helped  to  console    ,§>illltj|lmli[|;;!i:;';iiitMi.">  '"'lu.'  'A.-J^     ■     '^KBHSj^jS^^KUlt^^ 

the          of    |||||Hli|M|H||ii^^ 

who   ^^^^^^^^HUj^^^^^^MsMi  ^H^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^HhI 

1             been                        at    H^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^V^       1^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^|B^HU| 

succeeded    ^^^^^^^^^^^^^■tUlin,  ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^H 

the  Dean                      the    ^^^^^^^^^^^^^H^           ^^^^^^^^^^^^Hi 

arrived    ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^H|^^y^£U4  ."-II^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^B 

first  ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^H^^HHbi^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^H^ 

the            1520;    ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^Hjj^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^H 

he,    ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^H^^^^^^^^^^^Hj^^^^^^H 

to  ^^^^^^^^^^^H^^H^^^^^^^^^H^^^^^I^^H^^^^^^^^H 

to  Brde  |^^^^^^^^^^^^9^^^^^H|k  ** '  ^^H^hSI^I^^^I 

common    ^^^^^^^^^^^^H^^^^^^^^^ffi|^|k   „   wV  l^HkiBl^^H^^^I 

bore  fruit.    l^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^m^^^HHS^^^^^H 

"Oh,  mjdcarZwingle!"    PS^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^     ^^^UaB^^H|^^^^^^^H 

wrote                              to     ^p|^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^HHH^«^,     ^B^^^^H^^^^^^^H 

a              period,     ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^H^B^^^^^^^B       '^[^^^^^^^^^^^^^H 

"never  will  I  forget  you.     9^^^|^^^^^^^^^^^^|BH^^BhJ|K  <  )     bI^^^^^^^^^^^^I 

The                           binds    |^b|^P|^^^^^^^^^^^^^^|^^^^^^H^^^^^^^^^H 

good-  H|^^H^S^^^^^^^^^^^H^^^^^^^^H||hB^^^^^^^^^^^^H 

H^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^HnSBH^^^^^^^^^^^^^^B 

stay                     you     ^^^^BH||^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^H||yBHH^^^^^^^H 

—    a  ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^BJBB^^tomBS^^^^^^^B 

petty                             liv-     ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^HB^^r^^^^      ^P^^^^^^^^^H 

without     ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^H^^  !^^mt-       (S^Sffil  ^mH^^^^H 

learning  or  merit,  and  of    ^^^^^^K^^^K^Bj^KBg^^^B^^uBmBm^S^i^mw'  ^^^^^^^^^ 

humble  station!     What    ^^^HH^^^^I1!9^8V^^H[^H^Km||^K1 
wins  me  is  the  elegance    ^ ~-^,              '^^^^^^^^^^iffB^^^BHi^' 

of    your    manners,    and    ^^^^^^HL             '    """' *"'"' 1 1     F^BJIJji^^^l^^BE                        Jf* 

that  indescribable  meek-     ^^^^^B^      ij/lk                      '  ^M     ^^^^^^HP^                     M 

with                   you     ^^^^^^W      ^H         JHr          Wk,i^K^^^BBL                    1  #1  '   «&1 

subdue  all  hearts,  even    ^^^^HP        ^B                       HU^P^^^^I^        ''    rmj^'^^C^  W^^'' 

stones,if Imaysospcak."     ^^^^^|k^           HI                         ^H^^^B^^^HSn^    '*f ^^/jMI'      Y 

But  Zwingle's  visit  was     H^^^^H^' Aj   ^^^^                   ^S^SlK^l^^^^Bm    li  <    *  •JCfflB   .^J^ 

still  more  iisefid  to  his    Bj^^^BLj^^B^Sfcb^a^'g'^H^BEi^B^^^g  dMjUMHEjJMB^ 

old     friends.        Capito,     ^^^^^^H^^^^^^^^efflK|5^^|||^J9Pl^^^^^^plfi^|^^^GflH^HI 

Hedio,  and  others,  were    ^^^^^|^^^^^HHb^^^^<II^    -'     Hi^fljI^^^^lN  ^^IBHKhK' 
electrified  by  the  power    ^^^^^^^W|^^!pM" nf  if' JBJnjijjiia  imK^^K^W  "  m.  "^"^^W/^i 
of  his   eloquence.     The     ^K^K^KI^MAl^^^jjJ^g^lJMtBKfl^]^^^                   ^ 

former   commencing    in     ^^^^^HmRiT^T"  ,  .  '^il^      "  t,A^]  ^'JM^...                            >— 

Bale    the   work    which    J^P^^W-IL.  J_   H^s^^^g^^       .^itfj^  W»         .  ^   ^;^ 
Zwingle    was    doing    at                                                           W^              ^rtSlHilHHl^f^      ""        "iJ^^JlM^ 

Zurich,    began    to    ex-                                                           WjEl  ,     ^jtffll^lHB^                          ' '"^bHIB 

pound  the  Gospel  of  St.                                                       "^"^illiBnlHHH^                <-    >'' "^^H^W 

Matthew  before  an  audi-                                                          MlMHiR^IPPSIir                "^f^^  ^^^^ 

tory  which  continued  to            -                                               llfftPJi^K!lPW3PTOlR»SS!ffl                  <r^-^^:^^^^'^ 

increase.     The   doctrine                                                                                        ""^^        ^ 

of  Christ  penetrated  and  inll  lined  ill  Hl  iit^      llii  po>i  Ic       Jvo   nnttu,  nothing  -will  tuin   me   fiom  the  straight 

received  it  joyfuUy,  aud  wuh  acclamation  hailed  the 

pith"     '1  he  monk>  redoubled  then   cffoits.     "Believe 

revival  of  Christianity.    It  -n  a»  the  auroia  of  the  Refoi  - 

not  those,"  exelauucd  the_y  frum  the  pul[jit,  ••  who  say 

mation.    Accordingly  a  conspiracy  of  monks  and  priests 

that  the  sum   of   Christian   doctrine   is   found   in  the 

was  soon  formed  against  Capito.     It  was  at  this  time 

Gospel,  and  in  St.  Paul.     Scotns  has  done  more  for 

that  Albert,  the  young  cardinal-archbishop  of  Mentz, 

Christianity  than  St.  Paul  himself.     All  the  learning 

who  felt  desirous  of  attaching  a  man  of  so  much  learn- 

that has  ever  been  spoken  or  printed,  has  been  stolen 

ing  to  his  person,  called  him  to  his  court.    Capito,  seeing 

from  Scotus.     All  that  has  been  done  since,  by  men 

the  difficulties  which  were  thrown  in  his  way,  accepted 

eager  for  fame,  has  been  to  throw  in  some  Greek  and 

the  invitation.     The  people  were  moved,  and,  turning 

Hebrew  terms,  which  have  only  darkened  the  matter." 

_ 

238 


THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


The  tumult  increased ;  and  there  was  reasou  to  fear 
that,  ou  Capito's  departure,  it  would  become  still  more 
serious.  "I  will  be  almost  alone,"  thought  Hedio ; 
"  poor  I,  to  struggle  with  these  formidable  monsters." 
Accordingly  he  invoked  the  assistance  of  God,  and 
wrote  to  Zwingle.  "  Inflame  my  corn-age  by  writing 
often.  Learning  and  Christianity  are  now  placed  be- 
tween the  hammer  and  the  anvil.  Luther  has  just  been 
condemned  by  the  universities  of  Louvain  and  Cologne. 
If  ever  the  Church  was  in  imminent  danger,  it  is  at 
this  hour." 

Capito  left  Bale  for  Mentz  28th  April,  and  Hedio 
succeeded  Jiim.  Not  content  with  the  public  assemblies 
in  the  church,  at  which  he  continued  his  exposition  of 
St.  Matthew,  he  proposed,  in  the  month  of  June,  as  he 
wrote  Luther,  to  have  private  meetings  in  his  own 
house,  to  give  more  thorough  evangelical  instruction  to 
those  who  might  feel  the  want  of  it.  This  powerful 
metliocl  of  communicating  the  truth,  and  exciting  in 
tlio  faithful  an  interest  and  zeal  in  Divine  things,  could 
not  fail  then,  as  it  never  does,  to  awaken  opposition  in 
the  men  of  the  world,  and  in  domineering  priests,  both 
of  Avhoni,  though  from  different  motives,  are  equally 
desirous  that  God  should  be  worshipped  only  within 
the  precincts  of  a  particular  building.  But  Hedio  was 
invincible. 

At  the  same  period  when  he  formed  this  good  reso- 
lution at  Bale,  there  arrived  at  Zurich  one  of  those 
characters  who  often  emerge,  like  impure  froth,  fronl 
the  vortex  of  revolutions. 

Senator  Grebel,  a  man  of  great  influence  in  Zurich, 
had  a  sou  named  Conrad,  a  youth  of  remarkable 
talents,  and  a  relentless  enemy  of  ignorance  and  super- 
stition, which  he  attacked  with  cutting  satire.  He  was 
boisterous,  violent,  sarcastic,  and  bitter  in  his  expres- 
sion, without  natural  affection,  given  to  debauchery, 
always  talking  loudly  of  his  own  innocence,  while  he 
could  see  nothing  but  what  was  wrong  in  others.  We 
speak  of  him  here  because  ho  is  afterwards  to  play  a 
melancholy  part.  At  this  period  Vadian  married  a 
sister  of  Conrad ;  and  Conrad,  who  was  studying  at 
Paris,  where  his  misconduct  had  deprived  him  of  the 
use  of  his  limbs,  desiring  to  be  present  at  the  marriage, 
appeared  suddenly  about  the  beginning  of  June  amidst 
his  family.  Tlie  poor  father  received  the  prodigal  son 
with  a  gentle  smile,  his  fond  mother  with  tears.  The 
tenderness  of  his  parents  made  no  change  on  his  un- 
natural heart.  His  kind  and  unhappy  mother  having, 
some  time  after,  been  brought  to  the  gates  of  death, 
Conrad  wrote  his  brother-in-law,  Vadian :  "  My  mother 
is  recovered ;  she  again  rules  the  house,  sleeps,  awakes, 
grumbles,  breakfasts,  scolds,  dines,  makes  a  racket, 
sups,  and  is  perpetually  a  burden  to  us.  She  runs, 
cooks,  re-cooks,  sweeps  the  house,  toils,  kills  herself 
with  fatigue,  and  will  shortly  bring  on  a  relapse." 

Such  was  the  man  who,  at  a  later  period,  pretended 
to  lord  it  over  Zwingle,  and  who  took  the  lead  among 
fanatical  Anabaptists.  Divine  Providence,  perhaps, 
allowed  such  characters  to  appear  at  the  period  of  the 
Reformation,  that  their  disorders  might  the  better 
bring  out  the  wise.  Christian,  and  orderly  spirit  of  the 
reformers. 

Everything  announced  that  the  battle  between  the 
Gospel  and  the  papacy  was  about  to  commence.     "  Let 


us  stu-  up  the  temporizers,''  wrote  Hedio  to  Zu.'ich ; 
"  the  peace  is  broken,  let  us  arm  our  hearts, — the 
enemies  we  shall  have  to  combat  are  most  fierce." 
Myconius  wrote  in  the  same  strain  to  Ulrich,  who, 
however,  answered  then-  warlike  appeals  with  admir- 
able meekness.  "I  should  like,"  said  he,  "to  gain 
these  obstinate  men  by  kindness  and  good  offices, 
rather  than  overcome  them  by  violence  and  disputation. 
That  they  call  our  doctrine  (which,  however,  is  not 
ours)  a  doctrine  of  the  devil,  is  nothing  more  than 
natural.  It  proves  to  me  that  we  are  indeed  the  am- 
bassadors of  Christ.  The  devQs  cannot  be  silent  in 
His  presence." 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Tlie  Two  Reformers— The  Fall  of  Slan— Expiation  of  the  Gotl-Man— No 
Jlerit  in  Works— Objections  Refuted— Power  of  Love  to  Christ— Elec- 
tion— Christ  alone  Master— Effects  of  this  Preaching — Despondency 
and  Courage— First  Act  of  the  Magistrate— Church  and  State— Attaclis 
— Galster. 

Though  desirous  to  follow  the  path  of  meekness, 
Zwingle  was  not  idle.  Since  his  illness  his  preaching 
had  become  more  profound  and  enlivening.  More  than 
two  thousand  persons  in  Zurich  had  received  the  Word 
of  God  into  their  heart,  made  profession  of  the  evan- 
gelical doctrine,  and  were  themselves  able  to  announce 
it. 

Zwingle's  faith  was  the  same  as  Luther's,  but  more 
the  result  of  reasoning.  Luther  advances  with  a  bound ; 
Zwingle  owes  more  to  clearness  of  perception.  Luther's 
writings  are  pervaded  with  a  thorough  personal  convic- 
tion of  the  benefits  which  the  cross  of  Christ  confers 
upon  himself;  and  this  conviction,  glowing  with  heat 
and  life,  is  the  soul  of  all  he  says.  The  same  thing, 
doubtless,  exists  in  Zwingle,  but  in  an  inferior  degree. 
He  had  looked  more  to  the  Christian  system  as  a  whole, 
and  admired  it  particularly  for  its  beauty,  for  the  light 
which  it  sheds  into  the  human  mind,  and  the  eternal 
life  which  it  brings  to  the  world.  The  one  is  more  the 
man  of  heart,  the  other  more  the  man  of  intellect; 
and  hence  it  is  that  those  who  do  not  experimentally 
know  the  faith  which  animated  these  two  great  disciples 
of  the  Lord,  fall  into  the  gi-ossest  error,  making  the 
one  a  mystic  and  the  other  a  rationalist.  The  one  is 
more  pathetic,  perhaps,  in  the  exposition  of  his  faith, 
and  the  other  more  philosophical ;  but  both  believe 
the  same  truths.  They  do  not,  however,  look  at  all 
secondary  questions  from  the  same  point  of  view;  but 
that  faith  which  is  one, — that  faith  which  quickens  and 
justifies  its  possessor, — that  faith  which  no  confession, 
no  article  of  doctrine  can  express, — is  in  the  one  as  in 
the  other.  The  doctrine  of  Zwingle  has  often  been  so 
much  misrepresented,  that  it  seems  proper  here  to  give 
an  account  of  what  he  preached  at  this  time  to  the 
increasing  crowds  who  flocked  to  the  cathedi-al  of 
Zurich. 

The  fall  of  Adam  Zwingle  regarded  as  the  key  to 
man's  history.  "Before  the  fall,"  said  he  one  day, 
"  man  had  been  created  with  a  free  will,  so  that  he  was 


ZWINGLE'S  DOCTRINE. 


able,  if  he  chose,  to  keep  the  law;  his  nature  was  pure, 
being  as  yot  untainted  by  the  malady  of  sin ;  his  life 
was  in  his  own  hand.  But  wishing  to  be  equal  to  God, 
ho  died,  .  .  .  and  not  he  only,  but  every  one  of 
his  descendants.  All  men  being  dead  in  Adam,  none 
can  bo  recalled  to  life  until  the  Spirit,  who  is  God  him- 
self, raise  them  from  death." 

The  people  of  Zurich  who  listened  eagerly  to  this 
j)owcrful  orator,  were  saddened  when  he  set  before 
them  the  sinful  state  into  which  human  nature  has 
fallen ;  but  soon  after  hoard  words  of  joy,  and  learned 
to  know  the  remedy  which  is  able  to  recall  nnui  to  lifo. 
"  Christ,  very  man  and  very  God,"  said  the  eloquent 
voice  of  this  shepherd, — son  of  the  Tockcnbm-g, — 
"  lias  piu'chased  for  us  a  redemption  which  will  never 
terminate.  The  eternal  God  died  for  us.  His  passion, 
then,  is  eternal, — it  brings  salvation  for  ever  and  ever, 
— it  ;\p|ieases  Divine  justice  for  ever  in  favour  of  all 
those  who  lean  upon  this  sacrifice  with  finn  and  im- 
moveablo  faith."  "Wlierever  sin  cxisls;,"  exclaimed 
the  reformer,  "death  must  noc-sui  ily  Mipirvcne. 
Christ  had  no  sin,  there  was  no  guilr  in  His  moiiili,  and 
yet  He  died !  Ah !  it  was  because  lie  died  iu  uiir  stead. 
He  was  pleased  to  die  in  order  to  restore  us  to  life ; 
and  as  He  had  no  sins  of  His  own,  the  Father,  who  is 
full  of  mercy,  laid  the  burden  of  our  sins  upon  Him." 
The  Cin-istiau  orator  continued:  "Since  the  will  of 
man  rebelled  against  the  supreme  God,  it  was  neces- 
sary— if  eternal  order  was  to  be  re-established,  and 
man  saved — that  the  human  will  should  be  made  sub- 
ject in  Christ  to  the  Divine  will."  He  often  repeated, 
that  it  was  for  the  faithful  people  of  God  that  the 
expiatory  death  of  Jesus  Christ  had  been  endured. 

Those  in  the  city  of  Zurich  who  were  eager  for  sal- 
vation found  rest  on  hearing  these  good  news.  But 
old  errors  still  remained,  and  these  it  was  necessary  to 
destroy.  Setting  out  from  this  great  truth  of  a  salva- 
tion wliich  is  the  gift  of  God,  Zwingle  forcibly  dis- 
coiu-sed  against  the  pretended  merit  of  human  works. 
"Since  eternal  salvation,"  said  he,  "proceeds  solely 
from  the  merits  and  death  of  Jesus  Christ,  the  merit 
of  our  works  is  nothing  better  than  folly,  not  to  say 
rash  impiety.  Could  we  have  been  saved  by  our 
works,  it  had  not  been  necessary  for  Jesus  Christ  to 
die.  All  who  have  ever  come  to  God,  came  to  Him  by 
the  death  of  Jesus  Christ." 

Zwingle  perceived  the  objections  which  some  of  his 
hearers  felt  against  these  doctrines.  Some  of  them 
called  upon  him  and  stated  them.  He  mounted  the 
pulpit  and  said :  "  People,  more  ciu'ious,  perhaps,  than 
pious,  object  that  this  doctrine  makes  men  giddy  and 
dissolute.  But  of  what  consequence  are  the  objections 
or  fears  wliich  human  curiosity  may  suggest  ?  Who- 
soever believes  in  Jesus  Christ  is  certam  that  every- 
thing which  comes  from  God  is  necessarily  good.  If, 
then,  the  Gospel  is  of  God,  it  is  good.  And  what  other 
power  would  be  capable  of  implanting  among  men  in- 
nocence, truth,  and  love  ?  O  God i  most  compassionate, 
most  just.  Father  of  mercies!"  exclaimed  he  in  the 
overflowing  of  his  piety,  "with  what  love  hast  thou 
embraced  us — us  thy  enemies !  With  what  great  and 
certain  hopes. hast  thou  inspired  us — us  who  should 
have  known  nothing  but  despair ;  and  to  what  glory 
hast  thou  in  thy  Son  called  our  littleness  and  nothing- 


ness !  Thy  purpose  in  tliis  ineffable  love  is  to  con- 
strain us  to  yield  thee  love  for  love!" 

Then,  dwelling  on  this  idea,  he  shewed  that  love  to 
the  Redeemer  is  a  more  powerful  law  than  the  com- 
mandments. "  The  Christian,"  said  he,  "  delivered 
from  the  law  depends  entirely  on  Christ.  Christ  is 
his  reason,  his  counsel,  his  righteousness,  and  whole 
salvation.  Christ  lives  in  him  and  acts  in  him. 
Christ  alone  guides  him,  and  he  needs  no  other  guide." 
And,  making  use  of  a  comparison  adapted  to  his  hearers, 
he  added :  "If  a  government  prohibits  its  citizens, 
under  pain  of  death,  from  receiving  pensions  and 
presents  at  the  hands  of  princes,  how  gentle  and  easy 
this  law  is  to  those  who,  from  love  to  theii-  country 
and  to  liberty,  would,  of  their  own  accord,  refrain 
from  so  culpable  a  proceeding;  but,  on  the  contrary, 
how  tormenting  and  oppressive  it  feels  to  those  wlio 
think  only  of  their  own  interest!  Thus  the  righteous 
man  lives  joyful  in  the  love  of  righteousness,  whereas 
the  imrighteous  walks  groaning  under  the  heavy  weight 
of  the  law  which  oppresses  him." 

In  the  cathedral  of  Zurich  was  a  considerable  num- 
ber of  veteran  soldiers  who  felt  the  truth  of  these 
words.  Is  not  love  the  mightiest  of  legislators?  Is 
not  everything  that  it  commands  instantly  accomplish- 
ed? Does  not  He  whom  we  love  dwell  in  our  heart; 
and  does  it  not  of  itself  perform  what  He  enjoins? 
Accordingly  Zwingle,  waxing  bold,  declared  to  the 
people  of  Zurich  that  love  to  the  Redeemer  was  alone 
capable  of  making  man  do  things  agreeable  to  God. 
"Works  done  out  of  Jesus  Christ  are  not  useful,"  said 
the  Christian  orator.  "  Since  everything  is  done  of 
Him,  in  Him,  and  by  Him,  what  do  we  pretend  to 
arrogate  to  ourselves?  Wherever  faith  in  God  is, 
there  God  is;  and  wherever  God  is,  there  is  a  zeal 
which  presses  and  urges  men  to  good  works.  Only 
take  care  that  Christ  be  in  thee  and  thou  in  Christ, 
and  then  doubt  not  but  He  will  work.  The  life  of  the 
Christian  is  just  one  continued  work,  by  which  God 
begins,  continues,  and  perfects  in  man  everything  that 
is  good." 

Struck  with  the  grandeur  of  this  Divine  love,  which 
existed  from  eternity,  the  herald  of  gi-ace  raised  his 
voice  to  all  the  timid  or  irresolute.  "  Can  you  fear," 
said  he,  "to  approach  the  tender  Father  who  has 
chosen  you?  Why  has  He  chosen  us  in  His  grace? 
Why  has  He  called  us?  Why  has  He  drawn  us? 
Was  it  that  we  might  not  dare  to  go  to  Him?"    .     . 

Such  was  the  doctrine  of  Zwingle.  It  was  the 
doctrine  of  Christ  himself.  "If  Luther  preaches 
Christ,  he  does  what  I  do,"  said  the  preacher  of  Zm-ich. 
"  Those  who  have  been  brought  to  Christ  by  him  are 
more  numerous  than  those  who  have  been  brought  by 
me.  But  no  matter!  I  am  unwilling  to  bear  any 
other  name  than  that  of  Christ,  whose  soldier  I  am, 
and  who  alone  is  my  head.  Never  was  a  single  scrap 
written  by  me  to  Luther,  or  by  Luther  to  me.  And 
why?  In  order  to  shew  to  all  how  well  the  Spirit  of 
God  accords  with  himself,  since,  without  having  heard 
each  other,  we  so  harmoniously  teach  the  doctrine  of 
Jesus  Christ." 

Thus  Zwingle  preached  with  energy  and  might. 
The  large  cathedral  could  not  contain  the  crowds 
of  hearers.     All  thanked  God  that  a  new  life  was 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


bednuing  to  animate  the  lifeless  body  of  the  Church. 
Swiss  from  all  the  cantons,  brought  to  Zurich  either 
by  the  diet  or  by  other  causes,  being  touched  by  this 
new  preaching,  carried  its  precious  seeds  into  all  the 
Helvetic  valleys.  One  acclamation  arose  from  moun- 
tains and  cities.  Nicolas  Haceu':,  writing  from  Lucerne 
to  Zurich.  f:ivs:  '-Swii/i  il  iml  li  i-  hitlu-rlo  uiven  birth 


upside  down.  He  thought  it  impossible  that  anything 
new  should  appear  without  something  of  an  opposite 
nature  being  immediately  displayed.  When  a  hope 
sprang  up  in  his  heart,  a  fear  immediately  sprang  up 
beside  it.  Still,  he  soon  raised  his  head.  "  The  life 
of  man  here  below,"  said  he,  "  is  a  war ;  he  who  desires 
to  obtain  glory  must  attack  the  world  in  front,  and, 
like  David,  make  this  haughty  Goliath,  who  seems  so 
proud  of  his  stature,  to  bite  the  dust.  The  Church," 
said  he,  like  Luther,  "has  been  acquired  by  blood,  and 
must  be  renewed  by  blood.  The  more  numerous  the 
defilements  in  it,  the  more  must  we  arm  ourselves,  like 
Hercules,  in  order  to  clean  out  these  Augean  stables. 
I  have  liltle  fear  for  Luther, '  added  he,  "even  should 
he  be  thundered  asranist  by  the  bolts  of  this  Tnpiter  " 
/^\In  1      tiodinnr    1  nt  i   loc    and  i   puioltnthe 


^j^««*ii^^    i 


to   "^tipios     Cxsais,     ml    liiili  I  ul    In  u   lI> 

pioduced  two  men  -(^ho  hid  tlit  knoT\ ledge  of  Jcsus 
Christ,  and  could  nourish  men's  hearts,  not  with  -n  ain 
disputes,  but  with  the  Word  of  God.  Now  that 
Divine  Providence  gives  Switzerland  Zwingle  for  its 
orator,  and  Oswald  Myconius  for  its  teacher,  virtue 
and  sacred  literature  revive  among  us.  O  happy 
Helvetia!  could  you  but  resolve  at  length  to  rest  from 
all  your  wars,  and,  already  so  celebrated,  become  still 
more  celebrated  for  righteousness  and  peace!"  "It 
was  said,"  wrote  Myconius  to  Zwingle,  "  that  your 
voice  could  not  be  heard  three  yards  off.  But  I  now 
see  it  was  a  falsehood;  for  all  Switzerland  hears  you." 
"  Yon  possess  intrepid  courage,"  wrote  Hedio  to  him 
from  Bale;  "I  will  foUow  you  as  far  as  I  am  able." 
"  I  have  heard  you,"  said  Sebastian  Hofmeister  of 
Schaifhausen,  writing  to  him  from  Constance.  "Ah, 
would  to  God  that  Zurich,  which  is  at  the  head  of  our 
happy  confederation,  was  delivered  from  the  disease, 
and  health  thus  restored  to  the  whole  body!" 

But  Zwingle  met  with  opponents  as  well  as  admirers. 
"  To  what  end,"  said  some,  "  does  he  intermeddle  with 
the  aifairs  of  Switzerland?"  "Why,"  said  others, 
"  does  he,  in  his  religious  instructions,  constantly  re- 
peat the  same  things  ?  "  Amid  all  these  combats  the 
soul  of  Zwingle  was  often  filled  with  sadness.  All 
seemed  to  be  in  confusion,  as  if  society  were  turned 


papal  guard,  n  man  ot  -ou.l  iniiiin-,  1,nt  completely 
ignorant,  had  obtained  his  benefice  by  carrying  a  hal- 
berd. True  to  his  soldier  habits,  he  spent  the  day  and 
part  of  the  night  in  jovial  company,  while  Staheh,  his 
vicar,  was  indefatigable  in  fulfilling  the  duties  of  his 
office.  Zwingle  invited  the  young  minister  to  his  house. 
"  I  have  need  of  Swiss  help,"  said  he  to  him ;  and  from 
this  moment  Staheli  was  his  fellow-labourer.  Zwingle, 
Stiiheli,  and  Luti,  afterwards  pastor  of  Winterthur, 
lived  under  the  same  roof. 

The  devotedness  of  Zwingle  was  not  to  pass  unre- 
warded. The  Word  of  God,  preached  with  so  much 
energy,  could  not  fail  to  produce  fruit.  Several  magis- 
trates were  gained,  experiencing  the  Word  to  be  their 
consolation  and  their  strength.  The  council,  grieved 
at  seeing  the  priests,  and  especially  the  monks,  shame- 
lessly delivering  from  the  pulpit  whatever  came  into 
their  he^ads,  passed  a  resolution,  ordering  them  not  to 
advance  anything  in  their  discourses  "  that  they  did 
not  draw  from  the  sacred  sources  of  the  Old  and  New 
Testaments."  It  was  in  1520  that  the  civil  power  thus 
interposed,  for  the  first  time,  in  the  work  of  the  Refor- 
mation ;  acting  as  a  Christian  magistrate,  say  some, — 
since  the  first  duty  of  the  magistrate  is  to  maintain  the 


MARTYRDOM  OF  GALSTER. 


Word  of  God,  and  defend  the  best  interests  of  the  citi- 
zens ;  depriving  the  Ciuirch  of  its  liberty,  say  others, — 
by  subjecting  it  to  secular  power,  and  giving  the  signal 
for  the  series  of  evils  which  have  since  been  engendered 
by  the  connection  between  Church  and  State.  We  will 
not  give  any  opinion  here  on  this  great  controversy, 
Avhich,  in  our  day,  is  carried  on  with  so  much  warmth 
in  several  countries.  It  is  sufficient  for  us  to  point  out 
its  commencement  at  the  period  of  the  Reformation. 
But  there  is  another  thing  also  to  be  pointed  out, — the 
act  of  these  magistrates  was  itself  one  of  the  effects 
produced  by  the  preaching  of  the  Word  of  God.  At 
this  period  the  Reformation  in  Switzerland  ceased  to 
be  the  work  of  private  individuals,  and  began  to  be  in- 
cluded within  the  national  domain.  Born  in  the  heart 
of  a  few  priests  and  literary  men,  it  extended,  rose,  and 
took  up  elevated  ground.  Like  the  waters  of  the  ocean, 
it  gradually  increased  till  it  had  overflowed  an  immense 
extent. 

The  monks  were  confounded  ;  they  were  ordered  to 
preach  nothing  but  the  Word  of  God,  and  the  greater 
part  of  them  had  never  read  it.  Opposition  provokes 
opposition.  The  resolution  of  the  council  became  the 
signal  of  more  violent  attacks  on  the  Reformation. 
Plots  began  to  be  formed  against  the  curate  of  Zurich. 
His  life  was  in  danger.  One  evening,  when  Zwingle 
and  his  vicars  were  quietly  conversing  in  their  house, 
some  citizens  arrived  in  great  haste,  and  asked:  "Are 
your  doors  well  bolted  ?  Be  this  night  on  your  guard." 
"  Such  alarms  were  frequent,"  adds  Stiiheli ;  "  but  wc 
were  well  armed,  and  a  guard  was  stationed  for  us  in 
the  street." 

In  other  places  means  still  more  violent  were  resorted 
to.     An  old  man  of  Schaffhausen,  named  Galster,  a 


m^<^ 


man  of  piety,  and  of  an  ardour  rare  at  his  period  of  life, 
happy  in  the  light  which  he  had  found  in  the  Gospel, 
laboured  to  communicate  it  to  his  wife  and  children. 
His  zeal,  perhaps  indiscreet,  openly  attacked  the  re- 
lics, priests,  and  superstitions  with  which  this  canton 
abounded.  He  soon  became  an  object  of  hatred  and 
terror  even  to  his  own  family.  The  old  man,  penetrat- 
ing their  fatal  designs,  left  his  home  broken-hearted, 


and  fled  to  the  neighbouring  forest.  There  he  lived 
several  days  subsisting  on  whatever  he  could  find,  when 
suddenly,  on  the  last  night  of  the  year  1520,  torches 
blazed  in  all  directions  through  the  forest,  and  the  cries 
of  men  and  the  barking  of  dogs  re-echoed  under  its 
dark  shades.  The  council  had  ordered  a  hunt  in  the 
woods  to  discover  him.  The  dogs  scented  him  out,  and 
the  unhappy  old  man  was  dragged  before  the  magis- 
trate. He  was  ordered  to  abjure  his  faith,  but  remained 
immoveable,  and  was  beheaded. 


CHAPTER  X. 

A  New  Combataut— The  Reformer  of  Berne— Zwingle  Encourages  HaUer— 
Tlie  Gospel  at  Lucerne— Oswald  Persecuted— Preaching  of  Zwingle— 
Henry  Bullinger  and  Ceroid  of  Knonau— Rubli  at  Bile— Tlie  Chaplain 
of  the  Hospital- War  in  Italy— Zwingle  against  Foreign  Service. 

The  year — the  first  day  of  which  was  signalized  by  this 
bloody  execution  —  had  scarcely  commenced  when 
Zwingle  was  waited  on,  in  his  house  at  Zurich,  by  a 
young  man,  of  about  twenty-eight  years  of  age,  tall 
in  stature,  and  with  an  exterior  which  bespoke  can- 
dour, simplicity,  and  diffidence.  He  said  his  name 
was  Berthold  HaUer.  Zwingle,  on  hearing  the  name, 
embraced  the  celebrated  preacher  of  Berne  with  that 
affability  which  made  him  so  engaging.  HaUer,  born 
at  AJdingen  in  Wurtemberg,  had  first  studied  at  Rot- 
weil  under  Rubellus,  and  afterwards  at  Pforzheim, 
where  Simler  was  his  teacher,  and  Melancthon  his  fel- 
low-student. The  Bernese,  who  had  already  distin- 
guished themselves  by  arms,  at  this  time  resolved  to 
invite  literature  into  the  bosom  of  their  republic. 
Rubellus  and  Berthold,  not  twenty-one  years  of  age, 
repaired  thither.  Sometime  after,  the  latter  was  ap- 
pointed canon,  and  ultimately  preacher  of  the  cathedi-al. 
The  Gospel  which  Zwingle  preached  had  extended  to 
Bcine,  HaUer  believed,  and  thenceforth  longed  to  see 
the  distinguished  man  whom  he  now  looked  up  to  as 
his  father.  He  went  to  Zurich  after  Myconius  had 
iiiMounced  his  intended  visit.  Thus  met  HaUer  and 
/u  ingle.  The  former,  a  man  of  great  meekness,  un- 
bobomed  his  griefs;  and  the  latter,  a  man  of  might, 
inspired  him  with  courage.  One  day  Berthold  said  to 
Aw  ingk  :  "  My  spirit  is  overwhelmed.  ...  I  am 
not  able  to  bear  all  this  injustice.  I  mean  to  give  up 
the  pulpit  and  retire  to  Bale  beside  Wittembach,  and 
ih(ie  occupy  myself  exclusively  with  sacred  literature." 
Vh  ' "  replied  Zwingle,  "  I,  too,  have  my  feeUngs  of 
ikspondency,  when  unjust  attacks  are  made  upon  me; 
but  Christ  awakens  my  conscience,  and  urges  me  on  by 
His  terrors  and  His  promises.  He  alarms  me  when 
He  says :  Whoso  shall  be  ashamed  of  me  before  men,  of 
him  will  I  be  ashamed  before  my  Father;  and  He  sets  my 
mind  at  ease  when  He  adds :  Whoso  shcdl  confess  me  be- 
fore  men,  him  will  I  confess  before  my  Father.  My  dear 
Berthold,  rejoice !  Our  name  is  written  in  indelible 
characters  in  the  register  of  citizenship  on  high.  I  am 
ready  to  die  for  Christ.  Let  your  wild  cubs,"  added 
he,  "  hear  the  doctrine  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  you  will  see 


242 


HISTORY  OF  THE  EEFOEMATIOX. 


them  become  tame.'  But  this  task  miist  be  performed 
with  great  gentleness,  lest  they  turn  again  and  rend 
you."  HaUer's  courage  revived.  "  My  soul,"  said  he 
to  Zwingle,  "is  awakened  out  of  its  sleep.  I  must 
preach  the  Gospel.  Jesus  Christ  must  again  be  estab- 
lished in  this  city,  from  which  he  has  been  so  long 
exiled."  Thus  the  torch  of  Berthold  was  kindled  at 
the  torch  of  Zivingle  ;  and  the  timid  HaUer  threw  him- 
self into  the  midSt  of  the  ferocious  bears,  who,  as 
Zwingle  expresses  it,  "  were  gnashing  their  teeth,  and 
seeking  to  devour  him." 

It  was  in  another  part  of  Switzerland,  however,  that 
persecution  was  to  begin.  Warlike  Lucerne  came  for- 
ward, like  a  foe  in  full  armour  couching  his  lance.  In 
this  canton,  which  was  favourable  to  foreign  service,  a 
martial  spirit  predominated,  and  the  leading  men  knit 
their  brows  when  they  heard  words  of  peace  fitted  to 
curb  their  warlike  temper.  Meanwhile,  the  writings 
of  Luther  having  found  their  way  into  the  town,  some 
of  the  inhabitants  began  to  examine  them,  and  were 
horrified.  It  seemed  to  them  that  an  infernal  hand 
had  traced  the  lines ;  their  imagination  was  excited, 
their  senses  became  bewildered,  and  their  rooms  seemed 
as  if  filled  with  demons,  flocking  around  them,  and 
glaring  upon  them  with  a  sarcastic  smUe.  They  hastily 
closed  the  book,  and  dashed  it  from  them  in  dismay. 
Oswald,  who  had  heard  of  these  singular  visions,  did 
not  speak  of  Luther  to  any  but  his  most  intimate  friends, 
and  contented  himself  with  simply  preaching  the  Gos- 
pel of  Christ.  Nevertheless,  the  cry  which  rtmg 
through  the  town  was  :  "Luther  and  the  schoolmaster 
(Myconins)  must  be  burnt."  "I  am  driven  by  my 
adversaries  like  a  ship  by  the  raging  billows,"  said 
Oswald  to  one  of  his  friends.  One  day  in  the  begin- 
ning of  the  year  1520,  he  was  unexpectedly  summoned 
to  appear  before  the  councU,  and  told :  "  Your  orders 
are,  not  to  read  the  writings  of  Luther  to  your  pupils, 
not  to  name  him  in  their  presence,  and  not  even  to 
think  of  him."  The  lords  of  Lucerne  pretended,  it 
seems,  to  have  a  very  extensive  jurisdiction.  Shortly 
after,  a  preacher  delivered  a  sermon  against  heresy. 
The  whole  audience  was  moved,  and  every  eye  was 
turned  on  Myconius ;  for  whom  but  he  coiild  the 
preacher  have  in  his  eye  ?  Oswald  kept  quietly  in  his 
seat,  as  if  the  matter  had  not  concerned  him.  But  on 
leaving  the  church,  as  he  was  walking  with  his  friend, 
Canon  Xylotect,  one  of  the  councillors,  stUl  under 
great  excitement,  passed  close  to  them,  and  passionatelj- 
exclaimed :  "  Well,  disciples  of  Luther,  why  don't  you 
defend  your  master  V  They  made  no  answer.  "  I 
live,"  said  Myconius,  "  among  fierce  wolves ;  but  I  have 
this  consolation,  that  the  most  of  them  are  without 
teeth.  They  would  bite  if  they  could ;  but  not  being 
able,  they  bark." 

The  senate  assembled :  for  the  people  began  to  be 
tmnultuous.  "  He  is  a  Lutheran  I "  said  one  of  the 
coTmciUors :  "  he  is  a  propagator  of  new  doctrines !"  said 
another:  "he  is  a  seducer  of  youth!"  said  a  third. 
"  Let  him  appear !  let  him  appear  I "  The  poor  school- 
master appeared,  and  again  listened  to  prohibitions 
and  menaces.  His  unsophisticated  soul  was  torn  and 
overwhelmed.  His  gentle  spouse  could  only  console 
him  by  shedding  tears.  "Every  one  is  rising  up 
1  There  is  a  beir  in  tte  arms  of  the  tQvra  of  Btme. 


against  me,"  exclaimed  he  in  his  agony.  "  Assailed  by 
so  many  tempests,  whither  shall  I  turn,  or  how  shall 
I  escape  ?  .  .  .  Were  it  not  for  Christ,  I  wotdd 
long  ago  have  fallen  under  these  assaults."  "What 
matters  it,"  wrote  Doctor  Sebastian  Hofmeister  of 
Constance  to  him.  "  whether  Lucerne  chooses  to  keep 
you  or  not  ?  The  whole  earth  is  the  Lord's.  Everv 
land  is  a  home  to  the  brave.  Though  we  should  be 
the  most  wicked  of  men,  our  enterprise  is  just,  for  we 
teach  the  Word  of  Christ." 

While  the  truth  encountered  so  many  obstacles  at 
Lucerne,  it  was  victorious  at  Zurich.  Zwingle  was 
incessant  in  his  labours.  Wishing  to  examine  the 
whole  sacred  volume  in  the  original  tongues,  he  zeal- 
ously engaged  in  the  study  of  Hebrew,  under  the 
direction  of  John  Boschenstein,  a  pupU  of  Eeuchlin. 
But  if  he  studied  Scriptiu-e,  it  was  to  preach  it.  The 
peasants  who  flocked  to  the  market  on  Friday  to  dis- 
pose of  their  goods,  shewed  an  eagerness  to  receive  the 
Word  of  God.  To  satisfy  their  longings,  Zwingle  had 
begun,  in  December,  1520,  to  expound  the  Psalms 
every  Friday  after  studying  the  original.  The  refor- 
mers always  combined  learned  with  practical  labours — 
the  latter  forming  the  end.  the  former  only  the  means. 
They  were  at  once  students  and  popular  teachers. 
This  tinion  of  learning  and  charity  is  characteristic 
of  tlie  period.  In  regard  to  his  services  on  Sunday, 
Zwingle,  after  lecturing  from  St.  Matthew  on  the  life 
of  our  Saviour,  proceeded  aftewards  to  shew  from  the 
Acts  of  the  Apostles  how  the  Gospel  was  propagated. 
Thereafter  he  laid  do-mi  the  rules  of  the  Christian 
life  according  to  the  Epistles  to  Timothy;  employed 
the  Epistle  to  the  Galatians  in  combating  doctrinal 
errors ;  combined  with  it  the  two  Epistles  of  St.  Peter, 
in  order  to  shew  to  the  despisers  of  St.  Paul  that  both 
apostles  were  animated  by  the  same  spirit ;  and  con- 
cluded with  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  in  order  to 
give  a  full  display  of  the  benefits  which  Christians 
derive  from  Jesus  Christ,  their  sovereign  priest. 

But  Zwingle  did  not  confine  his  attention  to  adults ; 
he  sought  also  to  inspire  youth  with  the  sacred  flame 
by  which  his  o\\ti  breast  was  animated.  One  day,  in 
1521,  while  he  was  sitting  in  his  study  reading  the 
Fathers  of  the  Church,  taking  extracts  of  the  most 
striking  passages,  and  carefully  arranging  them  into  a 
large  volume,  his  door  opened,  and  a  young  man  en- 
tered, whose  appearance  interested  him  exceedingly. 
It  was  Henry  Bullinger,  who  was  retorning  from  Ger- 
many, and  impatient  to  become  acqmiinted  with  the 
teacher  of  his  country,  whose  name  was  already  famous 
in  Christendom.  The  handsome  youth  fixed  his  eye 
tirst  on  Zwingle,  and  then  on  the  books,  and  felt  his 
vocation  to  do  what  Zwingle  was  doing.  Zwingle 
received  him  with  his  usual  cordiality,  which  won  aU 
hearts.  This  first  visit  had  great  influence  on  the 
future  life  of  the  student,  who  was  on  his  retm^n  to 
the  paternal  hearth.  Another  youth  had  also  won 
Zwingle's  heart :  this  was  Gerold  Meyer  of  £nonau. 
His  mother,  Anna  Eeinhardt,  who  afterwards  occupied 
an  important  place  in  the  reformer's  life,  had  been  a 
great  beauty,  and  was  stUl  distinguished  for  her  virtues. 
John  Meyer  of  Knonau,  a  youth  of  a  noble  family, 
who  had  been  brought  up  at  the  court  of  the  Bishop  of 
Constance,  had  received  a  strong  passion  for  Anna, 


GEROLD  VON  KNONAU. 


243 


who,  however,  belonged  to  a  plebeian  fainil}'.  Old 
Meyer  of  Knonau  had  refused  his  consent  to  their 
marriage  ;  and  after  it  took  pUicc,  disinherited  his  son. 
In  1513,  Anna  was  left  a  widow,  with  a  son  and  two 
daughters,  and  devoted  herself  entirely  to  the  education 
of  her  poor  orphans.  The  grandfather  was  inexorable. 
One  day,  however,  the  widow's  niaid-servaut,  having 
in  her  arms  young  Gerold,  then  a  beautiful  sprightly 
child  of  three  years  of  age,  stopped  at  the  fish  market, 
when  old  Meyer,  who  was  looking  out  at  a  window, 
observed  him,  and,  continuing  to  gaze  after  him,  asked 
to  wliom  that  beautiful  lively  child  belonged.  "  It  is 
your  son's  child,"  was  the  answer.  The  heart  of  the 
old  man  was  moved — the  ice  immediately  melted — all 
was  forgotten,  and  he  clasped  in  his  arms  the  widow 
and  children  of  his  son.  Zwiugle  loved,  as  if  he  had 
been  his  own  son,  the  noble  and  intrepid  youth  Ger- 
old, who  was  to  die  in  the  flower  of  his  age,  side  by 
side  with  the  reformer,  with  his  sword  in  his  hand, 
and  surroimded,  alas !  with  the  dead  bodies  of  his 
enemies.  Thinking  that  Gerold  would  not  be  able  to 
prosecute  his  studies  at  Zurich,  Zwingle,  in  1521,  sent 
him  to  Bale. 

Young  Knonau  did  not  find  Hedio,  the  friend  of 
Zwingle,  there.  Capito  being  obliged  to  accompany 
the  Archbishop  Albert  to  the  coronation  of  Charles  Y., 
had  procured  Hedio  to  supply  his  place.  Bi'de  having 
thus,  one  after  another,  lost  her  most  faithfid  preachers, 
the  Church  there  seemed  forsaken ;  but  other  men 
appeared.  Fom-  thousand  hearers  squeezed  into  the 
church  of  "William  Eoubli,  curate  of  St.  Alban.  He 
attacked  the  mass,  purgatory,  and  the  invocation  of 
saints ;  but  this  turbulent  man,  who  was  eager  to  draw 
the  public  attention  upon  himself,  declaimed  more 
against  error  than  in  support  of  truth.  On  Corpus 
Christi  day  he  joined  the  public  procession;  but  in 
place  of  the  cnstomarv  relics,  caused  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures to  be  carried  before  him,  splendidly  bound,  and 
bearing  this  inscription:  "The  Bible;  this  is  the 
true  relic,  the  others  are  only  dead  bones."  Courage 
adorns  the  servant  of  God ;  affectation  disgraces  him. 
The  work  of  an  evangelist  is  to  preach  the  Bible,  and 
not  to  make  a  presumptuous  display  of  it.  The  enraged 
priests  accused  Eoubli  before  the  council.  A  mob 
immediately  gathered  in  Cordelier  Square.  "  Protect 
our  preacher,"  said  the  citizens  to  the  council.  Fifty 
ladies  of  distinction  interceded  in  his  behalf;  but 
Eoubli  was  obliged  to  quit  B;'de.  At  a  later  period  he 
took  part,  like  Grebel,  in  Anabaptist  disorders.  The 
Reformation,  in  the  course  of  its  development,  ever}'-- 
where  threw  off  the  chaff  which  mingled  with  the 
good  grain. 

At  this  period  a  modest  voice  was  heard  from  the 
humblest  of  the  chapels,  clearly  proclaiming  the  evan- 
gelical doctrine.  It  was  that  of  young  Wolfgang 
AVissemberger,  son  of  a  councillor  of  state,  and  chap- 
lain of  the  hospital.  All  in  Bale  who  felt  new  reli- 
gious wants,  attached  themselves  to  the  gentle  chaplain, 
preferring  him  to  the  presumptuous  Eoubli.  AYolfgaug 
began  to  read  the  mass  in  German.  The  monks 
renewed  their  clamour,  but  this  time  they  failed,  and 
Wissemberger  continued  to  preach  the  Gospel ;  "  for," 
says  an  old  chronicler,  "he  was  a  burgess,  and  his 
father  a  councillor."     This  first  success  of  the  Eefor- 


mation  in  Bille,  while  it  was  tiie  prelude  of  still  greater 
success,  at  the  same  time  tended  greatly  to  promote 
the  progress  of  the  work  throughout  the  confederation. 
Ziu'ich  no  longer  stood  alone.  Learned  Bale  began  to 
be  charmed  with  the  new  doctrine.  The  foundations 
of  the  new  temple  were  enlarged.  The  Eeformation  in 
Switzerland  obtained  a  fuller  development. 

The  centre  of  the  movement  WiW,  however,  at  Zurich. 
But,  to  the  deep  grief  of  Zwingle,  important  political 
events  occurred  in  1521,  and  iu  some  measure  dis- 
tracted men's  minds  from  the  preaching  of  the  Gospel. 
Leo  X.,  who  had  offered  his  alliance  at  once  to  Charles 
Y.  and  Francis  I.,  had  at  last  declared  for  the  emperor. 
War  between  the  two  rivals  was  on  the  point  of  break- 
ing out  in  Italy.  The  French  general  Lautrec  had 
said :  "  There  will  be  nothing  left  of  tlie  pope  but  his 
ears."  This  bad  jest  increased  the  pontiff's  anger. 
The  King  of  France  claimed  the  aid  of  the  Swiss  can- 
tons ;  all  of  which,  with  the  exception  of  Zurich,  had 
formed  an  alliance  with  him :  he  obtained  it.  The 
pope  flattered  himself  he  would  gain  Ziu'ieh ;  and  the 
Cardinal  of  Sion,  ever  given  to  intrigue,  and  confident 
in  his  ability  and  his  finesse,  hastened  thither  to  obtain 
soldiers  for  his  master.  But  from  his  old  friend  Zwingle 
he  encountered  a  vigorous  opposition.  He  was  indignant 
that  the  Swiss  should  sell  their  blood  to  strangers  ;  and 
his  imagination  figured  to  itself  the  swords  of  the 
Zuriehers  under  the  standard  of  the  pope  and  the  em- 
peror in  the  plains  of  Italy,  crossing  the  swords  of  the 
confederates  united  under  the  colours  of  France.  At 
such  scenes  of  fratricide  his  patriotic  and  Christian 
soul  shuddered  with  horror.  Thundering  from  the 
pulpit,  he  exclaimed :  "Would  you  rend  and  overthrow 
the  confederation?  .  .  .  We  attack  the  wolves 
which  devour  our  flocks,  but  offer  no  resistance  to 
those  who  prowl  around  seeking  to  devom-  men. 
.  .  .  Ah!  it  is  not  without  cause  that  these  hats 
and  mantles  are  of  scarlet.  Shake  their  robes,  and 
ducats  and  crowns  will  tumble  out  of  them;  twist 
them,  and  you  wiU  see  the  blood  of  your  brother,  your 
father,  yoiu-  son,  and  your  dearest  friend  trickling 
down  from  them."  The  energetic  voice  of  Zwingle 
was  heard  in  vain.  The  cardinal  with  the  red  hat  suc- 
ceeded; and  two  thousand  seven  hundred  Zuriehers 
set  out  under  the  command  of  George  Berguer. 
Zwingle  was  heart-broken.  Still,  however,  his  influ- 
ence was  not  lost.  For  a  long  time  the  banners  of 
Zurich  were  not  again  to  be  unfurled,  and  pass  the 
gates  of  the  town  iu  the  cause  of  foreign  powers. 


CHAPTEE  XL 

Zwingle  against  the  Precepts  of  Maa — Fermentation  during  Lent — Truth 
advances  during  Combat— The  Deputies  of  the  Bishops— Accusation 
before  the  Clergy  and  Council — Appeal  to  the  Great  Council — The 
Coadjutor  and  Zwingle— Decree  of  the  Grand  Council— State  of  Matters 

—Attack  by  Hoffman. 

Torn  in  his  feelings  as  a  citizen,  Zwingle  devoted 
himself  with  new  zeal  to  the  preaching  of  the  Gospel, 
urging  it  with  growing  energy.  "I  will  not  cease," 
said  he,  "  to  labour  to  restore  the  ancient  unity  of  the 


244 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


Church   of   Christ."      He   bcgaa  the  year   1522   by 
shewing  what  difference  there  is  between  the  precepts 
of  tlie  Gospel  and  the  precepts  of  men.     Tlie  season 
of  Lent  having  arrived,  he  raised  his  voice  stUl  more 
loudly.    After  laying  the  foundation  of  the  new  edifice, 
he  wished  to  clear  away  the  rubbish  of  the  old.     "For 
I     four  years,"  said  he  to  the  multitude  assembled  in  the 
'     cathedral,  "  you,  with  ardent  thirst,  received  the  holy 
doctrine  of  the  Gospel.     Enkindled  by  the  flames  of 
charity,  fed  with  the  sweets  of  heavenly  manna,  it  is 
impossible  to  have  still  any  relish  for  the  sad  element 
of    human   traditions."      Then    attacking   compulsory 
I     abstinence  from  flesh  for  a  certain  time,  he  exclaimed 
I     in  his  bold  eloquence  :  "  There  are  some  who  pretend 
that  it  is  an  evil,  and  even  a  great  sin,  to  eat  flesh, 
although  God  never  forbade  it;  and  yet  do  not  consider 
[     it  a  crime  to  sell  human  flesh  to  the  foreigner,  and 
drag  it  to  slaughter."     The  friends  of  foreign  service 
who  were  present  were  fiUed  with  indignation  and  rage 
;     at  these  bold  words,  and  vowed  not  to  forget  them. 
I         While  preaching  thus  forcibly,   Zwingle  still  con- 
j     tinned  to  say  mass ;  he  observed  the  usages  established 
I     by  the  Church,  and  even  abstained  from  meat  on  the 
forbidden  days.     He  was  persuaded  that  the  first  thing 
necessary  was  to  enlighten  the  people.    But  certain  tur- 
bulent spirits  did  not  act  with  so  much  wisdom.    Eoubli, 
who  had  become  a  refugee  at  Zurich,  allowed  himself  to 
be  carried  away  by  the  impulse  of  an  extravagant  zeal. 
The  old  cui-ate  of  St.  Alban,  a  Bernese  captain,  and 
Conrad  Huber,  a  member  of  the  great  council,  often 
met  at  the  house  of  the  last  to  eat  meat  on  Friday  and 
Saturday,  and  made  a  boast  of  it.     The  question  of 
abstinence  was  the  engrossing  topic.      An  inhabitant 
I     of  Lucerne,  who  had  come  to  Zurich,  said  to  one  of 
1     his  friends  there  :  "You  do  wrong  in  eating  flesh  during 
Lent."    The  friend  answered :  "Y'ou  Lucerne  folks  also 
take  the  liberty  of  eating  it  on  the  forbidden  days." 
The  inhabitant  of  Lucerne  rejoined:   "We  have  pur- 
chased it  from  the  pope."    The  friend  :  "And  we  from 
the  butcher.     If  it  is  a  question  of  money,  the  one  is 
surely  as  good  as  the  other."     The  council — a  com- 
plaint having  been  lodged  against  the  transgressors  of 
the  ecclesiastical  ordinances— asked  the  advice  of  the 
curates.    Z■^^^ngle  answered  that  the  act  of  eating  meat 
every  day  was   not  blameable  in  itself;    but   that   it 
ought    to    be    abstained   from   so   long   as    competent 
authority  had   not  given   any  decision  on  the  point. 
The  other  members  of  the  clergy  concurred  in  this 
opinion. 

The  enemies  of  the  truth  took  advantage  of  this 
favourable  circumstance.  Their  influence  was  on  the 
wane.  Victory  was  on  the  side  of  Zwingle.  It  was 
necessary,  therefore,  to  make  haste  and  strike  a  deci- 
sive blow.  They  unportuned  the  Bishop  of  Constance. 
"  Zwingle,"  exclaimed  they,  "  is  the  destroyer  of  the 
flock,  and  not  its  shepherd." 

Ambitious  Faber,  the  old  friend  of  Zivingle,  had 
returned,  full  of  zeal  for  the  papacy,  from  a  visit  which 
he  had  just  paid  to  Rome.  From  the  inspiration  of 
this  proud  city  the  first  troubles  of  Switzerland  were 
to  proceed.  It  was  necessary  that  there  should  be  a 
decisive  struggle  between  evangelical  truth  and  the 
representatives  of  the  pontiff.  It  is  especially  when 
attacked   that   the   truth  manifests  its  whole  power. 


Under  the  shade  of  opposition  and  persecution,  Chris- 
tianity at  first  acquired  the  power  which  overthrew  her 
enemies.  God  was  pleased,  in  like  manner,  to  conduct 
His  truth  through  difficult  paths  at  the  period  of  revival 
which  we  now  describe.  The  priests  then,  as  in  the 
days  of  the  apostles,  assailed  the  new  doctrine.  But 
for  their  attacks  it  might,  perhaps,  have  remained 
obscurely  hid  in  some  faithful  souls.  But  God  watched 
over  it  to  manifest  it  to  the  world.  Opposition  struck 
out  new  paths  for  it,  launched  it  on  a  new  career,  and 
fixed  the  eyes  of  the  nation  upon  it.  It  was  like  a 
breath  of  wind  scattering  far  and  wide  seeds  which 
might  otherwise  have  remained  inert  in  the  spots  on 
which  they  fell.  The  tree  destined  to  shelter  the  Hel- 
vetic population  was  indeed  planted  in  the  bosom  of 
then-  valleys,  but  storms  were  necessary  to  strengthen 
the  roots  and  give  full  development  to  the  branches. 
The  partisans  of  the  papacy,  seeing  the  fire  which  was 
slowly  burning  in  Zurich,  threw  themselves  upon  it  to 
extinguish  it,  and  thereby  only  caused  its  flames  to 
spread. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  7th  April,  1522,  three  eccle- 
siastic deputies  from  the  Bisliop  of  Constance  were 
seen  entering  the  town  of  Zurich.  Two  of  them  had 
a  stern  and  angry,  the  third,  a  gentle  expression  of 
countenance.  It  was  the  coadjutor  of  the  Bishop 
Melchior  Battli,  Doctor  Brendi,  and  John  Vanner, 
preacher  of  the  cathedral,  an  evangelical  man,  who, 
diu'ing  the  whole  affair,  remained  silent.  It  was  night 
when  Luti  called  in  haste  on  Zwingle,  and  said: 
"Oflicers  from  the  bishop  have  arrived;  a  great  blow 
is  preparing ;  all  the  partisans  of  ancient  customs  are 
in  motion.  A  notary  has  called  a  meeting  of  all  the 
priests  at  an  early  hour  to-morrow  morning,  in  the 
hall  of  the  chapter." 

The  assembly  of  the  clergy  having  accordingly  met 
next  day,  the  coadjutor  rose  and  delivered  a  speech, 
which  seemed  to  his  opponents  full  of  violence  and 
pride.  He  affected,  however,  not  to  mention  Zwingle 
by  name.  Some  priests  who  had  been  recently  gained 
to  the  Gospel,  and  were  still  irresolute,  were  terrified; 
their  pale  cheeks,  their  silence,  and  their  sighs,  shewed 
that  they  had  lost  all  courage.  Zwingle  rose  and 
delivered  a  speech  which  closed  the  mouths  of  his 
adversaries.  At  Zurich,  as  in  the  other  cantons,  the 
most  violent  enemies  of  the  new  doctrine  were  in  the 
Lesser  Council.  The  deputation,  defeated  before  the 
clerg}',  carried  their  complaints  before  the  magistrates. 
Zwingle  was  absent,  and  there  was  no  reply  to  be 
dreaded.  The  result  appeared  decisive.  The  Gospel 
and  its  defenders  were  on  the  point  of  being  condemned 
without  a  hearing.  Never  was  the  Reformation  of 
Switzerland  in  greater  danger.  It  was  going  to  be 
stifled  in  the  cradle.  The  councillors  in  favour  of 
Zwingle  appealed  to  the  Great  Council.  It  was  the 
only  remaining  plank  for  escape,  and  God  employed  it 
to  save  the  cause  of  the  Gospel.  The  Two  Hundred 
were  convened.  The  partisans  of  the  papacy  used 
every  means  to  exclude  Zwingle,  who,  on  the  other 
hand,  did  all  he  could  to  gain  admission.  As  he  him- 
self expresses  it,  he  knocked  at  every  door,  and  left 
not  a  stone  unturned;  but  all  in  vain!  "The  thing  is 
impossible,"  said  the  burgomasters ;  "  the  Council  has 
decreed  the  contrary."     "  Then,"  relates  Zwingle,  "  I 


APPEAL  TO  THE  GREAT  COUNCIL. 


remained  quiet,  nud  with  deep  sighs  carried  the  matter 
before  Ilim  who  hears  the  groaning  of  the  prisoner, 
supphcating  Ilim  to  defend  His  own  Gospel."  The 
patient  resigned  waiting  of  the  servants  of  God  is 
never  disappointed. 

On  the  Uth  April  the  Two  Hundred  assembled, 
'•■\Ve  wish  to  have  our  pastors  here,"  immediately 
exclaimed  the  members  who  were  in  favour  of  the 
Reformation.  The  Lesser  Council  resisted;  but  the 
Great  Council  decided  that  the  pastors  should  be 
present  to  hear  the  charge,  and  answer  it  if  they 
thought  fit.  The  deputies  from  Constance  were  intro- 
duced, and  then  the  tlircc  curates  of  Zurich:  Zwingle, 
Engelliard,  and  old  Rijschli. 

After  the  parties  thus  brought  face  to  face  had  for 
some  time  eyed  each  other,  the  coadjutor  rose.  "  Had 
his  heart  and  his  head  been  equal  to  his  voice,"  says 
Zwingle,  '-he  would,  in  sweetness,  liavo  surjjassed 
Apollo  and  Orpheus,  and  in  force  the  Gracchi  and 
Demosthenes." 

'•The  civil  constitution,"  said  the  champion  of  the 
papacy,  "  and  Christianity  itself,  are  threatened.  Men 
have  appeared  teaching  new,  offensive,  and  seditious 
doctrines."  Then,  after  speaking  at  gi-eat  length,  he 
fixed  his  eye  on  the  assembled  senate,  and  said: 
"Remain  with  the  Church! — remain  in  the  Church! 
Out  of  it  none  can  be  saved.  Ceremonies  alone  can 
bring  the  simple  to  the  knowledge  of  salvation;  and 
the  pastors  of  the  fiocks  have  nothing  else  to  do  than 
to  explain  their  meaning  to  the  people." 

As  soon  as  the  coadjutor  had  finished  his  speech,  he 
and  his  party  were  preparing  to  leave  the  coimcil-haU, 
when  Zwingle  said  to  him  warmly:  "Mr.  Coadjutor, 
and  you  who  accompany  him,  remain,  I  pray  you,  till 
I  have  defended  myself." 

The  Coadjutor. — "AV'e  are  not  employed  to  dispute 
with  any  man  whatever." 

Zwingle. — "  I  mean  not  to  dispute,  but  to  explain  to 
you,  without  fear,  what  I  have  taught  up  to  this  hour." 

Burgomaster  Jioust  to  the  Deputies  of  Constance. — "  I 
pray  you  listen  to  the  curate's  reply." 

The  Coadjutor. — "I  too  well  know  the  man  with 
whom  I  would  have  to  do.  Ulrich  Zwingle  is  too 
violent  for  any  man  to  dispute  with !" 

Zwingle. — "  When  did  it  become  the  practice  to  at- 
tack an  innocent  man  so  strongly,  and  afterwards  refuse 
to  hear  him  ?  In  the  name  of  our  common'  faith, — in 
the  name  of  the  baptism  which  both  of  us  have  re- 
ceived,— in  the  name  of  Christ,  the  author  of  salvation 
and  life, — listen  to  me.  If  you  cannot  as  deputies,  at 
least  do  it  as  Christians." 

After  firing  a  volley  info  the  air,  Rome  retired  with 
hasty  steps  from  the  field  of  battle.  The  reformer 
only  asked  to  speak,  and  the  agent  of  the  papacy 
thought  only  of  flight.  A  cause  thus  pleaded  Avas 
already  gained  on  the  one  side,  and  lost  on  the  other. 
The  Two  Hundred  could  not  contain  their  indignation  ; 
a  murmur  burst  forth  in  the  assembly.  The  burgo- 
master again  pressed  the  deputies.  They  felt  ashamed, 
and  silently  resumed  their  seats.  Then  Zwingle  said  : 
_  "  The  coadjutor  speaks  of  seditious  doctrines  subver- 
sive of  civil  laws.  Let  him  know  that  Zurich  is  quieter, 
and  more  obedient  to  the  laws,  than  any  other  town  in 
Switzerland ;  and  this  all  good  citizens  attribute  to  the 


Gospel.  Is  not  Christianity  the  most  powerful  safe- 
guard of  justice  among  a  people  ?  What  are  cere- 
monies good  for,  unless  it  be  to  sully  the  face  of  Christ 
and  Christians?  Yes,  there  is  another  method  than 
these  vain  observances  to  bring  simi)le  people  to  the 
knowledge  of  the  truth — a  method  which  Christ  and 
the  apostles  followed  in  the  Gospel  itself !  Have  no 
dread  of  its  not  being  comprehended  by  the  people ! 
AVhoever  believes  comprehends.  The  people  can  be- 
lieve, and  therefore  can  comprehend.  This  is  a  work 
of  the  Divine  Spirit,  and  not  of  human  reason.  For 
the  rest,  he  who  does  not  find  forty  days  sufficient,  may, 
for  me,  if  he  likes,  fast  every  day  in  the  year !  All  I 
ask  is,  that  nobody  be  compelled  to  do  so,  and  that,  for 
neglect  of  the  minutest  observance,  the  Zurichers  be 
not  accused  of  separating  from  tiie  communion  of 
Christians."     .     .     . 

"  I  did  not  say  so,"  exclaimed  the  coadjutor.  "  No," 
said  his  colleague,  Dr.  Brendi ;  "  he  did  not  say  it." 
But  the  whole  senate  confirmed  the  assertion  of  Zwingle, 
who  continued : 

"Worthy  citizens,  let  not  this  accusation  move  you! 
The  foundation  of  the  Church  is  that  rock,  that  Christ 
who  gave  Peter  his  name,  because  he  confessed  Him 
faithfully.  In  every  nation  whosoever  believeth  with 
the  heart  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  is  saved.  This  is 
the  Church  out  of  which  no  man  can  be  saved.  As  to 
us  ministers  of  Christ,  to  explain  the  Gospel  and  follow 
it,  is  the  whole  of  our  duty.  Let  those  who  live  by 
ceremonies  make  it  their  business  to  explain  them." 
This  was  to  touch  the  sore  part. 

The  coadjutor  blushed  aud  said  nothing.  The  Two 
Hundred  adjourned,  and  afterwards,  the  same  day, 
decided  that  the  pope  and  cardinals  should  be  requested 
to  explain  the  controverted  point ;  and  that,  in  the 
meantime,  flesh  should  not  be  eaten  diu-ing  Lent.  This 
was  to  leave  matters  on  the  old  footing,  and  answer 
the  bishop  in  such  a  way  as  to  gain  time. 

This  struggle  had  advanced  the  work  of  the  Refor- 
mation. The  champions  of  Rome  and  of  the  Refor- 
mation had  been  in  presence  of  each  other,  and  before 
the  eyes  of  the  whole  community,  and  the  advantage 
had  not  been  on  the  side  of  the  pope.  This  was  the 
first  engagement  in  what  was  to  be  a  long  and  severe 
campaign,  and  to  exhibit  many  alternations  of  grief 
and  joy.  But  a  first  victory  at  the  outset  gives  courage 
to  the  whole  army,  and  fills  the  enemy  with  dismay. 
The  Reformation  had  obtained  possession  of  a  territory 
of  which  it  was  not  again  to  be  deprived.  If  the  coun- 
cil deemed  it  necessary  to  proceed  with  some  degree  of 
caution,  the  people  loudly  proclaimed  the  defeat  of 
Rome.  "Never,"  said  they,  in  the  exultation  of  the 
moment, — "  never  will  they  be  able  to  reassemble  their 
beaten  and  scattered  troops."  "  You,"  said  they  to 
Zwingle,  "  have,  with  the  spirit  of  St.  Paul,  attacked 
these  false  apostles  and  their  Ananias, — their  whited 
walls.  .  .  .  The  utmost  the  satellites  of  Antichrist 
can  now  do  is  to  gnash  their  teeth  against  you  1 " 
Voices  were  heard  from  the  centre  of  Germany  joy- 
fully proclaiming  "  the  gloiy  of  reviA-ing  theology." 

At  the  same  time,  however,  the  enemies  of  the  Gos- 
pel mustered  their  forces.  If  they  were  to  strike  there 
was  no  time  to  be  lost,  for  it  would  soon  be  beyond  the 
reach  of  their  blows.     Hoffman  laid  before  the  chapter 


246 


HISTORY  OF  THE  EEFORMATIOX. 


a  long  accusation  against  the  reformer.  ""Were  the 
curate  even  able,"  said  he,  "to  prove  by  -mtnesses 
what  sins,  what  irregularities  have  been  committed  by 
ecclesiastics  in  such  a  convent,  such  a  street,  such  a 
tavern,  it  would  still  be  his  duty  not  to  give  any  names. 
Why  does  he  give  out  (it  is  true  I  have  scarcely  ever 
heard  him  myself)  that  he  alone  di-aws  his  doctrine  at 
the  fountain-head,  and  that  others  search  for  it  only  in 
sinks  and  puddles  ?  Is  it  not  impossible,  seeing  the 
diversity  of  spirits,  for  all  to  preach  the  same  thing?" 

Zwingle  defended  himself  at  a  full  meeting  of  the 
chapter,  scattering  the  accusations  of  his  opponents, 
"  as  a  bull  with  liis  horns  tosses  straw  into  the  air." 
The  affair  which  had  appeared  so  serious,  ended  in 
laughter  at  the  canon's  expense.  But  Zwingle  did  not 
stop  here;  on  the  16th  April  he  published  a  treatise 
"  On  the  Free  Use  of  Food." 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Grief  and  Joy  in  Geraiany — Amljush  against  Zwingle — Mandate  of  the 
Bisliop— Archeteles— The  Bishop  Addresses  the  r>iet— Prohibition  to 
Attaclithc  Monks— Declaration  of  Zwingle— The  Nuns  of  CEttnbach- 
Zwingle's  Address  to  Schwitz. 

The  reformer's  immoveable  firmness  delighted  the 
friends  of  truth,  and  particularly  the  evangelical 
Christians  of  Germany,  so  long  deprived,  by  the  cap- 
tivity of  the  "Wartburg,  of  the  mighty  apostle  who  had 
first  raised  his  head  in  the  bosom  of  the  Church. 
Pastors  and  faithful  jieople,  now  exiled  by  the  inexor- 
able decree  which  the  papacy  had  obtained  at  "Worms 
from  Charles  V.,  found  an  asylum  in  Zurich.  Nesse, 
the  professor  of  Frankfort,  whom  Luthc^r  visited  when 
on  his  way  to  Worms,  in  a  letter  to  Zwingle,  says : 
■'  Oh!  how  I  am  delighted  to  learn  with  what  authority 
you  preach  Christ !  vSpeak  words  of  encouragement  to 
those  who,  by  the  cruelty  of  wicked  bishops,  are  obliged 
to  flee  far  from  our  churches  in  sorrow." 

But  the  adversaries  of  the  Eeformation  did  not  con- 
fine their  cruel  plots  against  its  friends  to  Germany. 
Scarcely  an  hour  passed  at  Ziuich  in  which  the  means 
of  getting  rid  of  Zwngle  were  not  under  consideration. 
One  day  he  received  an  anonymous  letter,  which  he 
immediately  communicated  to  his  two  vicars.  It  said  : 
"  Snares  environ  you  on  every  side,  mortal  poison  is 
ready  to  deprive  you  of  life.  Eat  only  in  your  own 
house,  and  of  bread  baked  by  your  own  cook.  The 
walls  of  Zm-ich  contain  men  who  are  plotting  your  ruin. 
Tlie  oracle  which  revealed  this  to  me  is  truer  than  that 
of  Delphi.     I  am  on  your  side  :  you  will  yet  kuow  me." 

The  day  following  that  on  which  Zwingle  received 
this  mysterious  letter,  at  the  moment  when  Stiiheli  was 
going  to  enter  tlie  church  of  Eau,  a  chaplain  stopped 
him  and  said:  '"Make  all  haste  and  quit  the  house  of 
Zwingle — a  catastrophe  is  preparing."  Fanatics,  in 
despair  of  being  able  to  arrest  the  Reformation  by 
word,  armed  themselves  with  the  poniard.  When 
mighty  revolutions  are  accomplished  in  society,  assas- 
sins are  often  thrown  up  from  the  impure  dregs  of  the 
agitated  jjopulation.     God  guarded  Zwingle. 


While  murderers  saw  their  plots  defeated,  the  legi- 
timate organs  of  the  papacy  again  began  to  agitate. 
The  bishop  and  his  councillors  were  determined  to 
renew  the  war.  From  every  quarter  information  to 
this  effect  reached  Zwingle,  who,  leaning  on  the  Di\-ine 
promise,  exclaimed,  with  noble  confidence:  "I  fear 
them  ...  as  a  lofty  shore  fears  the  threatening 
waves  .  .  .  a-vv  ra  ©fij;,  with  God,"  added  he.  On 
the  2d  May,  the  Bishop  of  Constance  published  an 
order  in  which,  without  naming  cither  Zurich  or 
Zwingle,  he  complained  of  the  attempts  of  artful  per- 
sons to  renew  the  condemned  doctrines,  and  of  discus- 
sions by  the  learned  and  the  ignorant,  in  all  places,  on 
the  most  solemn  mysteries.  John  Yanner,  the  preacher 
of  the  cathedral  of  Constance,  was  the  first  that  was 
attacked.  "I  would  rather,"  said  he,  "be  a  Christian 
with  the  hatred  of  many,  than  abandon  Christ  for  the 
friendsliip  of  the  world." 

But  it  was  at  Zm-ich  that  the  gi-owing  heresy  required 
to  be  crushed.  Faber  and  the  bishop  knew  that 
Zwingle  had  several  enemies  among  the  canons,  and 
they  were  desirous  to  tiu-n  this  hatred  to  account. 
Toward  the  end  of  May,  a  letter  from  the  bishop 
arrived  at  Zurich  addressed  to  the  provost  and  his 
chapter.  '•  Sons  of  the  Church,"  said  the  prelate, 
"  let  them  perLsh  that  will  perish ;  but  let  no  one  sever 
you  from  the  Chm-ch."  At  the  same  time  the  bishop 
urged  the  canons  to  prevent  the  false  doctrines,  engen- 
dered by  pernicious  sects,  from  being  preached  and 
discussed,  whether  in  private  or  in  public.  When  this 
letter  was  read  in  the  chapter  all  eyes  were  tm-ned  up- 
on Zwingle,  who,  understanding  what  was  meant,  said : 
"I  see  you  think  that  this  letter  concerns  me;  have 
the  goodness  to  put  it  into  my  hand,  and  by  the  help 
of  God  I  will  answer  it." 

Z^v^ngle  did  reply  in  his  *'  Archeteles,"  a  word  which 
signifies  the  beginning  mid  end ;  "for  I  hope,"  said  he, 
"  that  this  first  answer  will  also  be  the  last."  He 
spoke  in  it  in  very  respectful  terms  of  the  bishop,  and 
attributed  all  the  attacks  of  his  enemies  to  some  in- 
triguers. "  What,  then,  have  I  done  ? "  said  he ;  "I 
have  called  all  men  to  the  knowledge  of  their  maladies; 
I  have  laboured  to  bring  them  to  the  true  God  and  to 
His  Son  Jesus  Christ.  With  that  view  I  have  em- 
ployed not  captious  exhortations,  but  words  simple  and 
true,  such  as  the  sous  of  Switzerland  can  comprehend." 
Then,  passing  from  the  defensive  and  becoming  the  as- 
sailant, he  finely  adds:  "Julius  Ca;sar,  feeling  himself 
mortally  wounded,  endeavoured  to  di-aw  up  the  folds 
of  his  robe,  that  he  might  fall  in  a  becoming  manner. 
The  fall  of  your  ceremonies  is  at  hand ;  act  so,  at  least, 
that  they  may  fall  decently,  and  that  in  every  place 
hght  may  be  quickly  substituted  for  darkness." 

This  was  all  that  the  bishop  gained  by  his  letter  to 
the  chapter  of  Zurich.  Now,  therefore,  that  friendly 
remonstrances  were  vain,  it  was  necessary  to  strike 
more  decisive  blows.  Faber  and  Landenberg  turned 
in  another  direction — towards  the  diet,  the  national 
council.  There  deputies  from  the  bishop  arrived  to 
state  that  their  master  had  issued  an  order,  prohibiting 
all  the  priests  of  his  diocese  from  innovating  in  matters 
of  doctrine ;  but  that  his  authority  being  disregarded, 
he  now  wished  the  aid  of  the  heads  of  the  confeder- 
ation to  assist  him  in  bringing  the  rebellious  to  obedi- 


ZWINGLE'S  DECLARATION. 


247 


encc,  and  defend iiig  the  true  and  ancient  faith.     The 
enemies  of  the  Reformation  -were  in  a  majority  in  tliis 
fii-st  assenilily  of  the  nation,  which  a  short  time  before 
had  issued  a  decree,  prohibiting  the  preaching  of  all 
'      priests  ^\  hose  discourses,  as  it  was  expressed,  jiroduccd 
discord   anioii;j;   the   people.     This  decree  of  tiie  diet, 
I      which  thus,  for  the  first  time,  took  up  the  question  of 
I     tlic  Reformation,  liad  no  result;  but  now  having  deter- 
mined  on   vigorous    measures,    this    body    summoned 
before   it   Urban  AVeiss,   pastor  of   Fcilispach,    near 
:     Baden,  whom  public  rumour  charged  with  preaching 
the   new   faith,    and  rejecting   the    old.      AVciss    was 
I     respited  for  some  time  on  the  intercession  of  several 
I     individuals,  and  on  bail  for  a  hundred  florins,  offered 
I     by  his  parishioners. 

I  But  the  diet  had  taken  its  part,  and  having  just 
I  given  proof  of  it,  the  priests  and  monks  began  evcry- 
'  where  to  resume  courage.  At  Zurich — even  after 
I  the  first  decree — they  had  begun  to  behave  more  im- 
j  pcriously.  Several  members  of  council  were  in  the 
practice,  morning  and  evening,  of  visiting  the  three 
convents,  and  even  taking  their  victuals  there.  The 
monks  laboured  to  indoctrinate  their  kind  table  com- 
panions, and  xu-ged  them  to  procure  a  decree  of  the 
government  in  their  favour.  "If  Zwingle  won't  be 
silent,"  said  they,  "we  will  cry  louder  still!"  The 
diet  had  taken  part  with  the  oppressors.  The  council 
of  Zurich  knew  not  what  to  do.  On  the  7th  of  June, 
it  issued  an  order  forbidding  auy  one  to  preach  against 
the  monks  ;  "but  scarcely  was  tlie  order  resolved  upon, 
than,"  says  the  chronicle  of  BuUinger,  "  a  sudden  noise 
was  heard  in  the  council  chamber,  and  made  every  one 
look  at  his  neighbour."  Peace  was  not  re-established. 
The  war  waged  from  the  pulpit  waxed  hotter  and 
hotter.  The  council  named  a  deputation,  who  called 
the  pastors  of  Zm-ich  and  the  readers  and  preachers  of 
the  convents  to  meet  them  in  the  provost's  house ; 
after  a  keen  discussion  the  burgomaster  enjoined  the 
two  parties  not  to  preach  anything  which  might  inter- 
rupt concord.  "  I  cannot  accept  this  injunction,"  said 
Zwingle ;  "  I  mean  to  preach  the  Gospel  freely  and 
unconditionally,  in  conformity  to  the  resolution  pre- 
viously adopted.  I  am  bishop  and  pastor  of  Zurich ; 
it  is  to  me  that  the  care  of  souls  has  been  entrusted. 
It  was  I  that  took  the  oath,  not  the  monks.  They 
ought  to  yield,  not  I.  If  they  preach  lies,  I  will  con- 
tradict them,  and  that  even  in  the  pulpit  of  their  own 
convent.  If  I  myself  preach  a  doctrine  contrary  to  the 
Holy  Gospel,  then  I  ask  to  be  rebuked,  not  only  by  the 
chapter,  but  by  any  citizen  whatever ;  and  moreover, 
to  be  punished  by  the  council."  "We,"  said  the 
monks — "we  demand  to  be  penuitted  to  preach  the 
doctrines  of  St.  Thomas."  The  committee  of  the  coun- 
cil having  deliberated,  ordered  that  Thomas,  Scotus, 
!iud  the  other  doctors,  should  be  let  alone,  and  nothing 
preached  but  the  Holy  Gospel.  Thus  the  truth  had 
once  more  gained  the  victory.  But  the  wrath  of  the 
partisans  of  the  papacy  increased.  The  ultramontane 
canons  could  not  conceal  their  anger.  They  imperti- 
nently eyed  Zwingle  in  the  chapter,  and  by  their  Icjoks 
seemed  to  demand  his  life. 

Zwingle  was  not  deterred  by  their  menaces.  There 
was  one  place  in  Zurich  where — thanks  to  the  Domi- 
nicans— the  light  had  not  yet  penetrated ;  this  was  the 


nunnery  of  CEteubach.  The  daughters  of  the  first 
families  of  Zurich  there  took  the  veil.  It  seemed  un- 
just that  these  poor  females,  confined  within  the  walls 
of  their  monastery,  should  alone  be  excluded  from 
hearing  the  Word  of  God.  The  Great  Council  ordered 
Zwingle  to  repair  to  it ;  and  the  reformer  having 
mounted  a  pulpit  which  had  hitherto  been  given  up  to 
the  ])oininieans,  preached  "on  the  clearness  and  cer- 
tainty of  the  Word  of  God."  He,  at  a  later  period, 
published  this  remarkable  discourse,  which  was  not 
without  fruit,  and  irritated  the  monks  still  more. 

A  oircumstaucc  occurred  to  augment  this  hatred, 
and  give  it  a  place  in  many  other  hearts.  The  Swiss, 
headed  by  Stein  and  Winkelreid,  had  just  experienced 
a  bloody  defeat  at  Bicoque.  They  had  rushed  impet- 
uously on  the  enemy;  but  the  artillery  of  Pescara  and 
the  lancers  of  that  Freundsbcrg  whom  Luther  had 
met  at  the  door  of  the  hall  of  Worms,  had  thrown 
down  both  leaders  and  colours,  whole  companies  fall- 
ing and  (li~:i)i|i.;niiiL'  lit  ipiiee.  Winkelreid  and  Stein, 
Muliiirii.l)ir-l,;ir|i-.  r,n„.|..u..iis,Tschudis,andPfyffers, 
were  lel't  mi  i\\f  liaith-iirld.  Schwitz  especially  had 
been  mown  dciuii.  Tiio  bloody  wrecks  of  this  dreadful 
conflict  had  returned  to  Switzerland,  spreading  mourn- 
ing at  every  step.  A  wail  of  grief  had  resounded 
from  the  Alps  to  the  Jura,  and  from  the  Rhone  to  the 
Rhine. 

But  none  had  felt  a  deeper  pang  than  Zwuigle.  He 
immediately  sent  an  address  to  Schwitz,  dissuading  its 
citizens  from  foreign  service.  "  Your  ancestors,"  said 
he  to  them,  with  all  the  warmth  of  a  Swiss  heart, 
"  forgot  their  enemies  in  defence  of  their  liberties ;  but 
they  never  put  Christians  to  death  in  order  to  gain 
monej".  These  foreign  wars  bring  iunimierable  cala- 
mities on  our  country.  The  scourges  of  God  chastise 
our  confederacy,  and  Helvetic  freedom  is  on  the  eve 
of  being  lost  between  the  selfish  caresses  and  the  mortal 
hatred  of  foreign  princes.  Zwingle  went  hand  in  hand 
with  Nicolas  Flue,  and  renewed  the  entreaties  of  that 
man  of  peace.  This  exhortation  having  been  presented 
to  the  assembly  of  the  people  of  Schwitz,  had  such  an 
effect,  that  a  resolution  was  passed  to  desist  prospec- 
tively for  twenty-five  years  from  capitulation.  But 
the  French  party  soon  succeeded  in  getting  the  gene- 
rous resolution  rescinded,  and  Schwitz  was  thence- 
forth the  canton  most  decidedly  opposed  to  Zwingle 
and  his  works.  The  very  disasters  which  the  partisans 
of  foreign  capitulation  brought  upon  their  country, 
only  increased  the  hatred  of  those  men  against  the 
bold  minister  who  endeavoured  to  rescue  his  country 
from  all  this  misfortune  and  all  this  disgrace.  Thus 
throughout  the  confederation  a  party,  which  daily  grew 
more  and  more  violent,  was  formed  against  Zurich  and 
Zwingle.  The  customs  of  the  Church  and  the  prac- 
tices of  the  recruiters  being  at  once  attacked,  they 
made  common  cause  in  resisting  the  impetus  of  reform, 
by  which  their  existence  was  threatened.  At  the  same 
time  external  enemies  multiplied.  JNot  merely  the 
pope,  but  other  foreign  princes  also  vowed  inextin- 
guishable hatred  to  the  Reformation,  because  it  was 
aiming  to  deprive  them  of  those  Helvetic  halberds,  to 
Vhich  their  ambition  and  their  pride  owed  so  many 
triumphs.  But  the  cause  of  the  Gospel  had  still  God 
on  its  side,  and  the  best  among  the  people :  this  was 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


sufficient.  Besides,  individuals  from  different  countries, 
exiled  for  their  faith,  were  led  by  the  hand  of  Provi- 
dence to  give  Switzerland  their  aid. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

A  French  Monk— He  teaches  in  Switzerland— Dispute  between  the  Monk 
and  Zwingle — Discourse  of  the  Leader  of  the  Johannites— The  Carnival 
at  Beme— The  Eaters  of  the  Dead— The  Sknll  of  St.  Anne— Appenzel— 
The  Grisons— Murder  and  Adultery— Marriage  of  Zwingle. 

On  Saturday,  the  12th  July,  there  was  seen  entering 
the  streets  of  Zurich  a  monk,  tall,  thin,  stiff,  gaunt, 
clad  in  a  grey  cordelier  frock,  and  mounted  upon  an 
ass.  He  had  the  look  of  a  foreigner,  and  his  bare  feet 
almost  touched  the  gi-ound.  He  .nrrivcd  thus  by  the 
road  from  Avignon.     lie  did  not  know  one  word  of 


German,  but  by  means  of  Latin  succeeded  in  making 
himself  understood.  Francis  Lambert  (this  was  his 
name)  asked  for  Zwingle,  and  delivered  him  a  letter 
from  Berthold  Haller.  "The  Franciscan  father," 
wrote  the  Bernese  curate,  "who  is  no  less  than  the 
apostolic  preacher  of  the  general  convent  of  Avignon, 
has,  for  nearly  five  years,  been  teaching  Christian 
truth :  he  has  preached  in  Latin  to  our  priests  at 
Geneva,  at  Lausanne  in  presence  of  the  bishop,  at 
Friburg,  and  finally  at  Berne.  His  subjects  were,  the 
Church,  the  priesthood,  the  sacrifice  of  the  mass,  the 
traditions  of  the  Roman  bishops,  and  the  superstitions 
of  the  religious  orders.  It  seemed  to  me  wonderful  to 
hear  such  things  from  a  cordelier  and  a  Frenchman — 
circumstances,  both  of  which,  as  you  know,  imply  a 
host  of  superstitions.  The  Frenchman  himself  related 
to  Zwingle  how  the  writings  of  Luther,  having  been 
discovered  in  his  cell,  he  had  been  obliged  to  take 
a  Iiasty  loavp  of  Avignon;  how  he  had  first  preached 
thr  (li.-iifl   ni    (;.inv;i,  and  thereafter  at  Lausanne. 


Zwingle,  overjoyed,  gave  the  monk  access  to  the 
church  of  Notre  Dame,  assigning  him  a  seat  in  the 
choir  near  the  high  altar.  Lambert  here  delivered  four 
sermons,  in  which  he  forcibly  attacked  the  eiTors  of 
Rome;  but  in  the  fourth,  he  defended  the  invocation 
of  the  saints  and  the  Virgin. 

"  Brother,  you  are  in  error,"  immediately  exclaimed 
an  animated  voice.  It  was  the  voice  of  Zwingle. 
Canons  and  chaplains  thrilled  with  joy  when  they  saw 
a  quarrel  rising  between  the  Frenchman  and  the  here- 
tical curate.  "  He  has  attacked  you,"  said  they  all  to 
Lambert :  "  demand  a  public  discussion."  The  man  of 
Avignon  did  so,  and  at  ten  o'clock  on  the  morning  of 
the  12th  of  July  the  two  chaplains  met  in  the  hall  of 
the  canons.  Zwingle  opened  the  Old  and  New  Testa- 
ment in  Greek  and  Latin :  he  discussed  and  lectured 


till  two.  Then  the  French  monk,  clasping  his  hands, 
and  raising  them  towards  heaven,  exclaimed :  "  I  thank 
thee,  O  God,  that  thou  hast,  by  this  illustrious  instru- 
ment, given  me  such  a  clear  knowledge  of  the  truth ! 
Henceforth,"  added  he,  turning  towards  the  assembly, 
"in  all  my  distresses  I  will  invoke  God  only,  and 
leave  off  my  beads.  To-morrow  I  resume  my  journey. 
I  go  to  Bale  to  see  Erasmus  of  Rotterdam,  and  thence 
to  AVittemberg  to  see  the  monk  Martin  Luther."  He 
accordingly  remounted  his  ass  and  set  out.  We  will 
again  meet  with  him.  He  was  the  first  exile  from 
France,  for  the  cause  of  the  Gospel,  who  appewed  in 
Switzerland  and  Germany, — a  modest  forerunner  of 
many  thousands  of  refugees  and  confessors. 

Myconius  had  no  such  consolation.     On  the  con- 
trary, he  saw  Sebastian  Hofmeister,  who  had  come 


THE  CARNIVAL  AT  BERNE. 


from  Constance  to  Lucerne,  and  there  boldly  preached 
the  Gospel,  obliged  to  quit  the  city.  Then  Oswald's 
grief  increased.  The  moist  climate  of  Lucerne  dis- 
agreed with  him.  lie  was  wasted  by  fever ;  and  the 
physicians  declared,  that  if  he  did  not  change  his  resi- 
dence he  would  die.  Writing  to  Zwingle,  he  says: 
"  There  is  no  place  I  should  like  better  to  be  than  be- 
side yourself,  and  no  place  worse  than  at  Lucerne. 
Men  torture,  and  the  climate  consumes  me.  My  dis- 
ease, some  say,  is  the  punishment  of  my  iniquity.  Ah  ! 
it  is  vain  to  speak,  vain  to  act ;  everything  is  poison  to 
them.  There  is  One  in  heaven  on  whom  alone  my  hope 
depends." 

This  hope  was  not  vain.  It  was  towards  the  end  of 
]\Iarch,  and  the  feast  of  the  Annunciation  was  at  hand. 
Tiie  evening  before  there  was  a  great  solemnity  in 
commemoration  of  a  fire  which,  in  1340,  had  reduced 
the  greater  part  of  the  town  to  ashes.  Multitudes 
from  the  surrounding  districts  had  flocked  into  Lucerne, 
and  several  hundreds  of  priests  were  then  assembled. 
Some  distinguished  orator  was  usually  employed  to 
preach  on  this  great  occasion.  Conrad  Schmidt,  com- 
mander of  the  Johannites,  arrived  to  discharge  the 
duty.  An  immense  crowd  thronged  the  church.  What 
was  the  general  astonishment  on  hearing  the  comman- 
der lay  aside  the  pompous  Latin  to  which  they  had 
been  accustomed,  and  speak  in  good  German,  so  that 
all  could  comprehend  him,  enforce  with  authority  and 
holy  fervour  the  love  of  God  in  sending  His  Son, 
eloquently  prove  that  external  works  cannot  save,  and 
that  the  promises  of  God  are  truly  the  power  of  the 
Gospel.  "  God  forbid,"  said  the  commander  to  his 
astonished  audience,  "  that  we  should  receive  a  chief 
so  full  of  lies  as  the  Bishop  of  Rome,  and  reject  Jesus 
Christ.  If  the  Bishop  of  Rome  dispenses  the  bread  of 
the  Gospel,  let  us  receive  him  as  pastor,  but  not  as 
head ;  and  if  he  does  not  dispense  it,  let  us  not  receive 
him  in  any  way  whatever."  Oswald  was  unable  to  re- 
strain his  joy.  "  What  a  man!"  exclaimed  he  ;  "what 
a  discourse  !  what  majesty!  what  authority!  what  over- 
flowing of  the  Spirit  of  Christ !"  The  impression  was 
general.  To  the  agitation  which  filled  the  town  suc- 
ceeded a  solemn  silence ;  but  all  this  was  transient. 
When  nations  shut  their  ears  against  the  calls  of  God, 
these  calls  are  diminished  from  day  to  day,  and  soon 
cease.     Thus  it  was  at  Lucerne. 

At  Berne,  while  the  truth  was  preached  from  the 
pulpit,  the  papacy  was  attacked  at  the  merry-makings 
of  the  people.  Nicolas  Manuel,  a  distinguished  lay- 
man, celebrated  for  his  poetical  talents,  and  advanced 
to  the  first  offices  in  the  state,  indignant  at  seeing  his 
countrymen  pillaged  by  Samson,  composed  carnival 
dramas,  in  wliich,  with  the  keen  weapon  of  satire,  he 
attacked  the  avarice,  pride,  and  luxury  of  the  pope  and 
the  clergy.  On  the  Shrove  Tuesday  "  of  the  lords," 
(the  clergy  were  at  this  time  the  lords,  and  began  Lent 
eight  days  before  the  common  people.)  all  Berne  was 
engrossed  with  a  drama  or  m_ystery,  entitled,  "  The 
Eaters  of  the  Dead,"  which  young  boys  were  going  to 
perform  in  the  street  of  La  Croix.  The  people  flocked 
to  it  in  crowds.  In  regard  to  the  progi-ess  of  art,  these 
dramatic  sketches  of  the  beginning  of  the  sixteenth 
centur}'  are  of  some  interest ;  but  we  give  them  here 
with  a  very  different  view.     We  would  have  been  bet- 


ter pleased  not  to  have  had  to  quote  squibs  of  this 
description  on  the  part  of  tlie  Reformation,  for  truth 
triumphs  by  other  arms.  But  the  historian  does  not 
make  his  facts.  lie  must  give  them  as  he  finds  them. 
At  length,  to  the  delight  of  the  eager  crowds  as- 
sembled in  the  streets  of  La  Croix,  the  repi<esentation 
began.  The  pope  is  seen  clad  in  gorgeous  robes,  and 
seated  on  a  throne.  Ai-ound  him  stand  his  courtiers, 
his  body-guards,  and  a  promiscuous  band  of  priests  of 
high  and  low  degree ;  behind  are  nobles,  laymen,  and 
mendicants.  A  funeral  train  shortly  appears ;  it  is  a 
ricii  farmer  on  the  way  to  his  last  home.  Two  of  his 
relatives  walk  slowly  in  front  of  the  cofTm  with  napkins 
in  their  hand.  The  train  having  arrived  in  front  of 
tlic  pope,  the  bier  is  laid  down  at  his  feet,  and  the 
drama  begins  :  — 

First  Relativk,  in  a  toiic  of  deep  grief. 
Oh  noble  army  of  the  sainted  host^ 

Talte  pity  on  our  doleful  pliclit; 
Our  cousin,  our  illustrious  boast, 

From  life,  alas  !  has  taken  flight. 

Second  Relative. 
Expense  we  grudge  not;  cheerfully  we'll  pay 
For  priests,  monks,  and  nuns,  in  costly  array : 
Yea,  one  hundred  crowns  we  *11  freely  devote 
If,  thereby,  exemption  may  surely  be  bought 
From  purgatory,  that  dread  scourge 
With  which  our  frightened  souls  they  ui-ge. 

Tin;    Sacristan,  breaking  off  from  the  land  surroundine[  the  pope,  pud 
running  hastily  to  Ctoate  Robert  Ever-More. 
Something  to  drink.  Master  Curate,  I  crave ; 
A  farmer  of  note  now  goes  to  his  grave. 

The  Ci'RATE. 
One ! — nay  you  must  tell  me  of  ten : 
My  thirst  will  ne'er  be  quenched  till  then. 
Life  flourishes  when  mortals  die. 
For  death  to  me  brings  jollity. 

The  Sacristan. 
Ah !  could  it  shorten  mankind's  breath, 
I  'd  ring  a  merry  peal  for  death  I 
No  other  trade  succeeds  so  well 
As  tolling  out  life's  parting  kneU, 

The  Ccrate. 
But  does  the  bell  of  death  the  portals  draw 
Of  heaven's  wide  gate?  I  cannot,  may  not  say. 
Wliat  boots  it?  to  my  house  it  brings 
Both  fish  and  flesh,  and  all  good  things. 

The  Curate's  Niece. 
'Tis  well ;  I,  too,  anon  will  claim  my  share. 
This  day  this  soul  must  pay  to  me  my  fare — 
A  robe,  white,  red,  and  grcn,  a  flowered  damas, 
A  pretty  kerchief  likewise  for  my  eyes  at  mass. 

Cardinal  High-Pride,  adonwd  with  a  red  hat,  and  close  by  the  pope. 
If  death  brought  us  no  heritage. 


K    ,                                    nvy  fired* 

Y'    ,                                   u  blood  gr 

Tl                                        .lethaf. 

T...                               ,.,  ..-quired. 

Bishop  Wolf-bellv. 

In  papal  rites  I  '11  live  and  die. 

And  clothe  me  in  silk  embroidery 

THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


Ih  foray  or  chase  I  'II  take  my  jileasurc, 

And  eat  and  diiuk  in  ample  measure. 

Had  I  been  priest  in  days  of  yore, 

A  peasant's  dress  I  then  had  wore. 
We  once  were  shepherds,  but  now  we  reign  kings, 
For  a  shepherd  I  '11  pass  'mong  the  lambkins,  poor  things  . 


"Wlien  the  wool  of  the  flock  shall  be  gathered  by  me. 

We  truly  are  wolves,  yet  we  're  shepherds  of  sheep  ; 

They  must  feed  us,  or  death  is  the  best  they  shall  reap. 

His  Holiness  forbids  to  marry; 

This  yoke  the  wisest  ne'er  could  carry — 

But  then  !  when  priests  do  cross  the  score, 

The  scandal  only  swells  my  store. 

And  makes  my  train  extend  the  more. 

Nought  I  refuse,  e'en  farthings  tell, 

A  monied  priest  may  have  a  belle ; 

Four  florins  a-year  will  wipe  it  away. 

Does  an  infant  appear? — it^.ain  he  must  pay. 

On  two  thousand  florins  I  reckon  each  year  ; 

"Were  they  chaste,  I  should  starve  on  a  pittance,  I  fear. 

Tlien  hail  to  the  pope ;  on  my  knees  I  adore 

And  swear  in  his  faith  to  live  evermore; 

His  ehvirch  I  '11  defend,  and  till  death  I  avow. 

He  alone  is  the  god  before  whom  I  will  bow. 

The  Pope. 
The  people  now  at  length  believe 
That  priests  can  all  their  sins  reprieve 
At  pleasure— that  to  them  is  given 
Full  power  to  shut  or  open  heaven. 
Preach  loudly,  every  high  decree. 
Of  hun,  the  conclave's  majesty. 
Then,  we  are  Itings,  the  laity  slaves : 
But  if  the  Gospel  standard  waves 
We're  lost;  for  nowhere  does  it  say. 
Make  sacrifice,  let  priests  have  pay. 
The  Gospel  course  for  us  would  be. 
To  live  and  die  in  poverty. 
Instead  of  steeds  to  mark  my  state. 
And  chariots  on  my  sons  to  wait, 
A  paltry  ass  must  needs  supply 
A  seat  for  sacred  majesty. 
No,  I  cannot  take  such  legacy ; 
I  '11  thunder  at  such  temerity. 
Let  us  but  wIU— the  world  will  nod. 
And  nations  adore  us  as  God. 
Sbghting  their  rights,  I  mount  my  throne, 
And  partition  the  world  among  my  own. 
Vile  laity  must  keep  far  aloof. 
Nor  dare  to  enter  our  blest  roof, 
To  touch  our  tribute,  or  our  gold. 
Holy  water  e'en  let  them  hold. 

Wc  will  not  continue  this  literal  translation  of 
Manuel's  drama.  The  agony  of  the  clergy  on  learning 
the  efforts  of  the  reformers,  and  their  rage  against 
those  who  threatened  to  interfere  with  their  irregu- 
larities, are  painted  in  lively  colours.  The  dissolute 
mannei's  of  which  this  piece  gave  so  vivid  a  represen- 
tation, were  too  common  not  to  strike  the  spectator 
with  the  truth  of  the  pictm-e.  The  people  were  ex- 
cited. Many  jibes  were  heard  as  they  retired  from  the 
play  in  the  street  of  La  Croix ;  but  some  who  took  the 
mutter  more  seriously,  spoke  of  Christian  liberty  and 
papal  despotism,  and  contrasted  the  simplicity  of  the 
Gospel  with  the  pomp  of  Rome.  The  contempt  of  the 
people  was  soon  displayed  iu  the  public  streets.  On 
Ash  Wednesday  the  indulgences  were  promenaded 
through  the  town  amid  satirical  songs.     In  Berne,  and 


throughout  Switzerland,  a  severe  blow  had  been  given 
to  the  ancient  edifice  of  the  papacy. 

Some  time  after  this  representaUon,  auolher  comedy 
was  acted  at  Berne ;  but  there  was  no  fiction  in  it.  The 
clergy,  council,  and  corporation,  had  assembled  in  front 
of  the  Up)jer  Gate,  waiting  for  the  skull  of  St.  Anne, 
which  the  famous  knight,  Albert  of  Stein,  had  gone  to 
fetch  from  I/yons.  At  length  Stein  appeared,  holding 
the  holy  relic  wrapt  in  a  covering  of  silk.  As  it 
passed,  the  Bishop  of  Lausanne  knelt  down  before  it. 
This  precious  skull — the  skull  of  the  Virgin's  mother — 
is  carried  in  procession  to  the  church  of  the  Domi- 
nicans, and,  amid  the  ringing  of  bells,  enters  the 
church,  where  it  is  placed  with  great  solemnity  on  the 
altar  consecrated  to  it,  behind  a  splendid  grating.  But 
amid  all  this  joy  a  letter  arrives  from  the  abbot  of  the 
convent  of  Lyons,  where  the  relics  of  the  saint  were 
deposited,  intimating  that  what  the  monks  had  sold  to 
the  knight  was  a  profane  bone,  taken  at  random  from 
the  burying  ground.  The  trick  thus  played  off  on  the 
illustrious  city  of  Berne,  filled  its  citizens  with  deep 
indignation. 

The  Reformation  was  making  progress  in  other 
parts  of  Switzerland.  In  1521,  AYalter  Klarer,  a 
young  man  of  Appenzel,  retiu-ned  to  his  native  canton 
from  the  university  of  Paris.  Luther's  writings  fell 
into  his  hands,  and,  in  1522,  he  preached  the  evan- 
gelical doctrine  with  all  the  ardour  of  a  young  convert. 
An  innkeeper,  named  Rausberg,  a  wealthy  and  pious 
man,  and  a  member  of  the  council  of  Appenzel,  opened 
his  house  to  all  the  friends  of  truth.  Bartholomew 
Berweger,  a  famous  captain,  who  had  fought  for 
Julius  n.  and  for  Leo  X.,  having  at  this  time  returned 
from  Rome,  began  forthwith  to  persecute  the  evan- 
gelical ministers.  One  day,  however,  remembering 
how  much  vice  he  had  seen  at  Rome,  he  began  to  read 
the  Bible,  and  to  attend  the  sermons  of  the  new 
preachers ;  his  eyes  were  opened,  and  he  embraced 
the  Gospel.  Seeing  that  the  crowds  could  not  be 
contained  iu  the  churches,  he  proposed  that  they 
should  preach  in  the  fields  and  the  public  squares, 
and,  notwithstanding  of  keen  opposition,  the  hills, 
meadows,  and  mountains  of  Appenzel,  thenceforward 
often  echoed  with  the  glad  tidings  of  salvation. 

The  reformed  doctrine,  ascending  the  Rhine,  made 
its  way  as  far  as  ancient  Rhfetia.  One  day  a  stranger 
from  Zurich  crossed  the  river,  and  waited  on  the 
saddler  of  Flasch,  the  frontier  village  of  the  Grisons. 
Christian  Anhorn, .  the  saddler,  listened  in  astonish- 
ment to  the  language  of  his  visitor.  "  Preach,"  said 
the  whole  village  to  the  stranger,  who  was  called 
James  Burkli.  He  accordingly  took  his  station  in 
front  of  the  altar.  A  number  of  persons  arrived,  with 
Anhorn  at  their  head,  and  stood  round  to  defend  him 
from  a  sudden  attack  while  he  preached  the  Gospel. 
The  rumour  of  this  preaching  spread  far  and  wide ; 
and,  on  the  following  Sunday,  an  immense  crowd 
assembled.  Shortly  after,  a  great  proportion  of  the 
inhabitants  of  the  district  desired  to  have  the  Lord's 
Supper  dispensed  to  them  according  to  its  original 
institution.  But  one  day  the  tocsin  suddenly  sounded 
in  Mayenfeld ;  the  people  ran  in  alarm ;  and  the 
priests,  after  pointing  out  the  danger  which  threatened 
the  Church,   hastened,,  at  the  head  of  the  fanatical 


ZWINGLE'S  MARRIAGE. 


population,  to  Flasch.  Anhorn,  wlio  was  working  in 
the  field,  astoni-rlicd  at  hearing  the  sound  of  bells  at  so 
unusual  an  hour,  hastened  home  and  concealed  13urkli 
in  a  Jeep  hole  dug  in  his  cellar.  The  house  was  by 
this  time  surrounded ;  the  door  was  forced  open,  nnd 
the  heretical  preacher  everywhere  searched  for  in  vain. 
At  length  the  persecutors  withdrew. 

The  Word  of  God  spread  over  the  extent  of  the  ten 
Jm-isdictions.  The  curate  of  Mayenfekl,  on  returning 
from  Rome,  to  which  he  had  fled,  infuriated  at  the 
success  of  the  Gospel,  exclaimed,  '•  Home  has  made  me 
evangelical!"  and  became  a  zealous  reformer.  The 
Reformation  soon  extended  to  the  league  of  "  the 
house  of  God."  "Oh!"  exclaimed  Salandronius  to 
Vadian,  "if  you  but  saw  liow  the  inhabitants  of  the 
mountains  of  Khajtia  cast  far  from  tbem  the  yoke  of 
the  Babylonish  captivity ! " 

Shocking  disorders  hastened  the  day  when  Zurich 
nnd  the  neighbouring  districts  were  to  shake  off  the 
yoke.  A  married  schoolmaster,  wishing  to  become  a 
priest,  obtained  his  wife's  consent,  and  they  separated. 
The  new  curate  was  unable  to  keep  his  vow  of  celibacy; 
but  not  to  outrage  his  wife's  feelings,  quitted  the  place 
where  she  lived,  and,  having  taken  up  his  residence  in 
the  diocese  of  Constance,  formed  a  licentious  connec- 
tion. His  wife  hastened  to  the  place.  The  poor  priest 
took  compassion  on  her,  and  dismissing  the  person  who 
had  usurped  her  rights,  took  back  his  lawful  spouse. 
The  procurator-fiscal  forthwith  drew  up  a  charge 
against  him ;  the  vicar-general  began  to  move ;  the 
council  of  the  consistory  deliberated  .  .  .  and  the 
c\u-ate  was  ordered  to  abandon  his  wife  or  his  benefice. 
The  ])oor  wife  left  the  house  weeping  bitterl}-,  and  her 
rival  returned  in  triumph.  The  Church  declared  itself 
satisfied,  and  thenceforth  let  the  adulterous  priest 
alone. 

Shortly  after,  a  curate  of  Lucerne  eloped  with  a 
maiTied  woman,  and  lived  with  her.  The  husband 
went  to  Lucerne,  and  taking  advantage  of  the  priest's 
absence,  brought  away  his  wife.  While  returning  they 
were  met  by  the  seducer,  who  immediately  attacked 
the  injured  husband,  and  gave  him  a  wound  of  which 
he  died.  All  good  men  felt  the  necessity  of  re-estab- 
lishing the  divine  law,  which  declares  marriaije  honour- 
able ill  (ill.  The  evangelical  ministers  had  taught  that 
the  law  of  celibacy  was  of  merely  human  origin,  im- 
posed by  Roman  pontiffs  in  opposition  to  the  Word  of 
God,  which,  when  describing  a  true  bishop,  represents 
him  as  a  husband  and  father,  (1  Tim.  iii.  2  and  4.) 
They  saw  at  the  same  time,  that  of  all  the  abuses 
which  had  crept  into  the  Church,  none  had  caused 
more  numerous  vices  and  scandals.  They  considered 
it  not  only  as  a  thing  lawful,  but  as  a  duty  in  the 
sight  of  God  to  withdraw  from  its  authority.  Several 
of  them,  at  this  time,  returned  to  the  ancient  practice 
of  apostolic  times.  Xylotect  was  married.  Zwingle 
also  married  at  this  period.  No  lady  was  more 
respected  in  Zurich  than  Anna  Reinhard,  widow  of 
Meyer  of  Knonau,  the  mother  of  Ceroid.  From  the 
arrival  of  Zwingle  she  had  been  one  of  his  most  atten- 
tive hearers:  she  lived  in  his  neighbourhood,  and  he 
observed  her  piety,  modesty,  and  fondness  for  her 
children.  Young  Gcrold,  who  had  become,  as  it  were, 
l-i.-''  adopted  son,  brought  him  into  closer  connection 


with  his  mother.  The  trials  already  endured  by  this 
Christian  woman,  who  was  one  day  to  be  the  most 
cruelly  tried  of  all  the  women  whose  history  is  on 
record,  had  given  her  a  gravity  which  made  her  evan- 
gelical virtues  still  more  prominent.  She  was  now 
about  thirty-five  years  of  ago,  and  her  own  fortune 
amounted  only  to  four  hundred  florins.  It  was  on  her 
that  Zwingle,  on  looking  out  for  a  companion  for  life, 
turned  his  eye.  He  felt  how  sacred  and  intimate  the 
conjugal  union  is.  He  tei-med  it  "a  most  holy  alliance." 
"  As  Christ,"  said  he,  "  died  for  His  people,  and  gave 
himself  to  them  entirely,  so  ought  husband  and  wife 
to  do,  and  suffer  everything  for  each  other."  But 
Zwingle,  when  he  took  Anna  Reinhard  to  wife,  did 
not  immediately  publish  his  mamage.  This  was  un- 
doubtedly a  culpable  weakness  in  a  man  otherwise  so 
resolute.  The  light  which  he  and  his  friends  had 
acquired  on  the  subject  of  celibacy  was  not  generally 
diffused.  The  weak  might  have  been  offended.  He 
feared  that  his  usefulness  in  the  Church  might  be 
paralyzed  if  his  man'iage  were  made  public.  He 
sacrificed  part  of  his  happiness  to  these  fears — fears 
to  which,  though  respectable  perhaps,  he  should  have 
been  superior.' 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

How  Truth  TriuDiiihs— Society  at  Einsidlen— Request  to  tlie  Bishops— To 
tlie  Confederates— The  Men  of  Einsidlen  Separate— A  Seeue  in  a  Con- 
vent—A Dinner  by  Myconius— The  Strength  of  the  Refonnerc— Effect 
of  the  Petitions  to  Lucerne— The  Council  of  the  Diet— Haller  at  the 
Town-House— Friburg— Destitution  of  Oswald— Zwingle  Comforts  him 
— Oswald  quits  Lucerne — First  Severity  of  the  Diet — Consternation  of 
the  Brothera  of  Zwingle— His  Resolution- The  Future— The  Prayer 
of  Zwingle. 

Meanwhile  still  higher  interests  occupied  the  friends 
of  truth.  The  diet,  as  we  have  seen,  urged  by  the 
enemies  of  the  Reformation,  had  ordered  the  evan- 
gelical preachers  to  desist  from  preaching  the  doctrines 
which  troubled  the  people.  Zwingle  felt  that  the 
moment  for  action  had  arrived,  and  with  the  energy 
which  characterized  him,  called  a  meeting  of  the 
ministers  of  the  Lord,  the  friends  of  the  Gospel,  at 
Einsidlen.  The  strength  of  Christians  is  neither  in 
carnal  weapons,  nor  the  flames  of  martyrdom ;  it  is 
in  a  simple,  but  unanimous  and  intrepid  profession  of 
these  great  truths  to  which  the  world  must  one  day  be 

1  Biogi-aphei-s,  most  respectable  historians,  and  all  the  authors  who  have 
copied  tliem,  place  Zwingle's  man-iage  two  years  later,  viz.,  in  April,  1524. 
Without  going  at  length  into  the  reasons  which  satisfy  nic  that  this  is  a 
mistake,  I  will  merely  indicate  the  most  decisive  proofs.  A  letter  from 
Zwingle's  friend,  Myconius,  22nd  July,  1522,  says :  "  I'ak  cum  ■uxorc  qmm 
/idciMimf ,"— "  All  happiness  to  you  and  your  wife  1"  Another  letter  from 
the  same  friend,  written  towards  the  close  of  this  year,  has  the  words,  '■  VaU 
cum  uxorc."  The  contents  of  the  letters  prove  that  they  are  correctly  dated_ 
But  what  is  still  stronger,  is  a  letter  of  Bucer,  from  Strasburg,  at  the  time 
when  the  marriage  was  made  public,  14th  April,  1524,  (the  date  of  the  year 
is  wanting,  but  it  is  clcariy  1524.)  This  letter  contains  several  pass-lges 
which  shew  tliat  Zwingle  had  been  for  some  time  married.  Tlie  learned 
editors  of  the  letters  of  Zwingle  ask :  "May  not  Zwingle  have  already  bL-en 
secretly  married  to  Anna  Rcinh.ard!"— Zw.  Ep.,  p.  210.  This  seems  to  nie 
not  a  matter  of  doubt,  but  a  well  ascertained  historical  fact. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


subjugated.  In  particular,  God  calls  upon  tliose  who 
serve  Him  to  hold  these  heavenly  doctrines  promi- 
nently forth  in  presence  of  the  whole  people,  without 
being  dismayed  by  the  clamom-  of  adversaries.  Those 
truths  are  able  of  themselves  to  secure  their  triumph, 
and  as  of  old  with  the  ark  of  God,  idols  cannot  stand 
in  their  presence.  The  time  had  come  when  God 
willed  that  the  great  doctrine  of  salvation  should  be 
confessed  in  Switzerland.  It  was  necessary  that  the 
Gospel  standard  should  be  planted  on  some  eminence. 
Providence  was  going  to  draw  humble,  but  intrepid 
men  out  of  unknown  retreats,  that  they  might  bear  a 
striking  testimony  in  i>i-csriiro  of  the  nation. 


-  ,^^ 


Towards  the  end  of  June  and  the  beginning  of  July, 
1522,  pious  ministers  were  seen  proceeding  in  all 
directions  towards  the  celebrated  chapel  of  Einsidleu 
on  a  new  pilgrimage.  From  Ai-t,  in  the  canton  of 
Schwitz,  came  its  curate,  Balthasar  Trachsel ;  from 
"Weiuingen,  near  Baden,  curate  Stiihcli ;  from  Zug, 
Werner  Steiner;  from  Lucerne,  canon  Kilchmeyer; 
from  Uster,  curate  Pfister;  from  Hougg,  near  Zurich, 
curate  Stumpff;  from  Zurich  itself,  canon  Fabricius, 
chaplain  Schmidt,  the  preacher  of  the  hospital,  Gros- 
mann,  and  Zwingle.  Leo  Juda,  curate  of  Einsidleu, 
most  cordially  welcomed  all  these  ministers  of  Jesus 
Christ  to  the  ancient  abbey.  Since  the  time  when 
Zwingle  took  up  his  residence  in  it,  this  place  had  been 
a  citadel  of  truth,  and  a  hotel  of  the  just.  In  like 
manner  had  thirty-three  bold  patriots,  resolved  to 
break  the  yoke  of  Austria,  met  two  hundi-ed  years 
before  in  the  solitary  plain  of  Grutli.  The  object  of 
the  meeting  at  Einsidleu  was  to  break  the  yoke  of 
human  authority  in  the  things  of  God.  Zwingle  pro- 
posed to  his  friends  to  present  earnest  addresses  to  the 
cantons,  and  to  the  bishop,  praying  for  the  free 
preaching  of  the  Gospel,  and,  at  the  same  time,  for 
the  abolition  of  compulsory  celibacy,  the  source  of  so 
many  irregularities.  The  proposal  was  imanimously 
adopted.  Ulrich  had  himself  prepared  the  addresses. 
That  to  the  bishop  was  first  read.  It  was  dated  2nd 
July,  1522,  and  signed  by  all  the  evangelists  we  have 
mentioned.  The  preachers  of  the  truth  in  Switzer- 
land were  united  in  cordial  affection.  Many  others, 
besides,  sympathized  with  the  party  at  Einsidleu :  such 
were  Haller,  Myconius,  Hedio,  Capito,  CEcolampadius, 
Sebastian  Meyer,  Hoffmeister,  and  Vanner.  This 
harmony  is  one  of  the  finest  traits  in  the  Swiss  Refor- 


mation. These  excellent  persons  always  acted  as  one 
man,  and  remained  friends  till  death. 

The  men  of  Einsidleu  were  aware  that  it  was  only 
by  the  power  of  faith  that  the  members  of  the  confed- 
eration, divided  by  foreign  enhstments,  could  become 
one  body.  But  their  views  were  carried  higher. 
"  The  celestial  doctrine,"  said  they  to  their  ecclesi- 
astical head,  in  the  address  of  2nd  July,  "  that  truth 
which  God,  the  Creator,  has  manifested  by  His  Son 
to  the  human  race  now  plunged  in  evil,  has  been  long 
veiled  from  our  eyes  by  the  ignorance,  not  to  say  the 
malice  of  certain  men.  But  God  Almighty  has  re- 
solved to  re-estabhsh  it  in  its  primitive  condition. 
Jom  jourself  to  those  who  demand  that  the  multi- 
tude ot  the  faithful  retm-n  to  their  head,  who  is  Christ. 
For  our  part,  we  have  resolved  to  promulgate  His 
Gospel  with  indefatigable  perseverance,  and  at  same 
time  with  such  wisdom  that  none  can  complain. 
Favour  this  enterprise ;  astonishing,  perhaps,  but  not 
1  v&h.  Be  like  Moses  on  the  march  at  the  head  of  the 
people  coming  out  of  Egypt ;  and  overthrow  the  ob- 
stacles which  oppose  the  triumphant  progress  of  truth." 

After  this  warm  appeal  the  evangelists  met  at  Eiu- 
'  idlen  came  to  celibacy.  Zwingle  had  no  longer  any 
demand  to  make  on  this  head  for  himself,  having  al- 
itady  one  answering  the  description  given  by  Paul  of 
^\  hat  a  minister's  wife  ought  to  be — grave,  sober,  faith- 
ful in  all  things,  (1  Tim.  iii.  2.)  But  he  thought  of  his 
biethren,  whose  consciences  were  not  yet,  like  his, 
emantipated  from  human  ordinances.  He  sighed, 
moreover,  for  the  time  when  all  the  servants  of  God 
might  live  openly,  and  witlmut  fear,  in  the  bosom  of 
their  own  family,  keeping  thrlr  c/nhlri  :i,  says  the  apostle, 
in  subjection,  ivith  all  graviii/,  (1  Tini.  iii.  4.)  "You 
are  not  ignorant,"  said  the  men  of  Einsidleu,  "that 
hitherto  chastity  has  been  deplorably  violated  by  the 
priests.  When,  on  the  consecration  of  the  servants  of 
the  Lord,  he  who  speaks  for  all  is  asked:  'Are  those 
whom  you  present  righteous  V — he  answers :  '  They 
arc  righteous.'  '  Are  they  learned  ? — They  are  learned.' 
But  when  he  is  asked :  '  Ai-e  they  chaste?' — he  answers  : 
'  As  far  as  human  weakness  permits.'  Everything  in 
the  New  Testament  condemns  licentiousness ;  every- 
thing in  it  sanctions  marriage."  Then  follows  the 
quotation  of  a  great  number  of  passages.  "  Where- 
fore," they  continued,  "we  implore  you  by  the  love  of 
Christ,  by  the  liberty  which  He  has  purchased  for  us, 
by  tlie  misery  of  so  many  weak  and  wavering  souls, 
by  die  wounds  of  so  many  ulcerated  consciences, 
by  everything  human  and  Divine ;  .  .  .  allow 
that  which  was  rashly  done  to  be  wisely  repealed,  lest 
the  majestic  edifice  of  the  Church  fall  with  fearful 
uproar,  and  drag  boundless  ruin  after  it.  See  with 
what  storms  the  world  is  threatened.  If  wisdom  inter- 
pose not,  it  is  all  over  with  the  priesthood." 

The  petition  to  the  confederation  was  of  greater 
length.  The  band  of  Einsidleu,  addressing  the  con- 
federates, thus  conclude  :  "  Honoured  Sirs, — We  are  all 
Swiss,  and  you  are  our  fathers.  There  are  some  among 
us  who  have  shewn  themselves  faithful  in  combat,  in 
l)lague,  and  other  calamities.  It  is  in  the  name  of 
true  chastity  that  we  speak  to  you.  Who  knows  not 
that  we  could  satisfy  sensual  appetite  far  better  by  not 
submitting  to  the  laws  of  a  legitimate  union  ?     But  it 


THE  CONFEDERATION  OF  EINSIDLEN. 


is  necessary  to  put  an  end  to  the  scandals  which  afflict 
the  Church  of  Christ.  If  the  tyranny  of  the  Roman 
pontiff  wouUl  oppress  us,  fear  nothin;!,  brave  heroes  ! 
The  autiiority  of  the  Word  of  God,  the  rights  of  Chris- 
tian liberty,  and  the  sovereign  power  of  grace,  guard 
around  us.  AVe  have  tiie  same  country,  we  have  the 
same  faith,  we  are  Swiss,  and  tlie  valour  of  our  illus- 
trious ancestors  always  manifested  its  power  by  an  in- 
domitable defence  of  those  oppressed  by  injustice." 

Thus  in  Einsidleu  itself,  in  this  old  rampart  of  super- 
stition, which  is  still,  in  our  day,  one  of  the  most 
famous  sanctuaries  of  Roman  supei-stition,  Zwingle  and 
his  friends  boldly  raised  the  standard  of  truth  and  free- 
dom. They  appealed  to  the  heads  of  the  State  and  the 
Church.  They  fi.\ed  their  theses,  like  Luther,  both  on 
the  gate  of  the  episcopal  palace,  and  on  that  of  the 
national  council.  The  friends  met  at  Einsidlen  parted 
calm,  joyful,  full  of  hope  in  that  God  to  whom  they 
had  committed  their  cause.  Some  passing  near  the 
battle-lield  of  Morgarten,  others  over  the  chain  of  the 
Albis,  and  others  again  by  different  valleys  or  moun- 
tains, all  returned  to  their  posts.  "  There  was  truly 
something  grand  in  these  times,"  says  Henry  Bullinger, 
"  in  men  thus  daring  to  put  themselves  forward,  rally- 
ing around  the  Gospel,  and  exposing  themselves  to  all 
dangers.  But  God  defended  them  so,  that  no  evil 
reached  them;  for  God  preserves  His  people  at  all 
times."  It  was,  indeed,  something  grand :  it  was  a 
great  step  in  the  progress  of  the  Reformation,  one  of 
the  brightest  days  of  religious  revival  in  Switzerland. 
A  holy  confederation  was  formed  at  Einsidlen.  Humble 
and  courageous  men  had  seized  the  sword  of  the  Spirit, 
which  is  the  AVord  of  God,  and  the  shield  of  faith. 
The  gauntlet  was  thrown  down,  and  the  challenge 
given,  not  by  a  single  man,  but  by  men  of  different 
cantons,  ready  to  sacrifice  their  lives.  It  only  remained 
to  await  the  battle. 

Everything  announced  that  it  was  to  be  fierce.  Five 
days  after,  (7th  July,)  the  magistracy  of  Zurich,  wish- 
uig  to  give  some  satisfaction  to  the  Roman  party,  sum- 
moned before  them  Conrad  Grebel  and  C'laus  Hottin- 
ger,  two  of  those  extreme  men  who  seemed  desirous  to 
go  beyond  the  bounds  of  a  wise  Reformation.  "AVe 
forbid  you,"  said  Burgomaster  Roust,  "  to  speak  against 
the  monks  or  on  controverted  points."  At  these  words 
a  loud  noise  was  heard  in  the  chamber,  says  an  ancient 
chronicle.  God  was  so  manifestly  in  favour  of  the 
work,  that  people  were  everywhere  anticipating  signs 
of  His  interposition.  All  present  looked  around  in 
astonishment,  without  being  able  to  discover  the  cause 
of  this  mysterious  circumstance. 

But  indignation  was  carried  to  its  greatest  height  in 
convents.  Every  meeting  held  in  them,  whether  for 
discipline  or  festivity,  witnessed  some  new  attack.  One 
day,  when  a  great  festival  was  celebrated  in  the  con- 
vent of  Fraubrunn,  the  wine  having  got  into  the  heads 
of  the  guests,  they  began  to  shoot  the  most  envenomed 
arrows  at  the  Gospel.  AA^hat  especially  excited  the 
rage  of  these  priests  and  monks  was  the  evangelical 
doctrine,  that  in  the  Christian  Church  there  ought  to 
be  no  sacerdotal  caste  above  believers.  Only  one 
friend  of  the  Reformation,  a  simple  layman, — Macrin, 
schoolmaster  at  Soleure, — was  present.  He  at  first 
shunned  the  contest  by  changing  his  seat  to  another 


table.  But  at  last,  no  longer  able  to  endure  the  furious 
invectives  of  the  guests,  he  stood  up  boldly,  and  ex- 
claimed :  "  Yes,  all  true  Christians  are  priests,  and 
offer  sacrifice  according  to  the  words  of  St.  Peter,  You 
are  a  royal  j)nestlioo(l."  At  these  words  one  of  tiie 
most  intrepid  bawlers,  the  Dean  of  Burgdorff,  a  tall, 
stout  man,  with  a  stentorian  voice,  uttered  a  loud  laugh : 
"You  little  Greeks  and  school  rats!  l''ou  a  royal 
priesthood !  .  .  Beautiful  priesthood !  .  .  Men- 
dicant kings !  .  .  .  priests  without  prebends  and 
benefices!"  And  instantly  all  the  priests  and  monks 
fell  with  one  accord  on  the  impudent  laic. 

But  it  was  in  Lucerne  that  the  bold  step  of  the  men 
of  Einsidlen  was  to  produce  the  strongest  sensation. 
The  diet  had  met  in  this  town,  and  complaints  arrived 
from  all  quarters  against  the  rash  preachers  who  were 
preventing  Helvetia  from  quietly  selling  the  blood  of 
her  sons  to  the  stranger.  On  the  22d  July,  as  Oswald 
Myconius  was  entertaining  Canon  Kilehmeyer,  and 
several  other  friends  of  the  Gospel,  at  dinner,  a  boy, 
sent  by  Zwingle,  knocked  at  the  door.  He  was  the 
bearer  of  the  two  famous  petitions  from  Einsidlen,  and 
of  a  letter  from  Zwingle,  which  requested  Oswald  to 
circulate  them  in  Lucerne.  "My  advice  is,  that  the 
thing  be  done  quietly,  by  degrees,  rather  than  all  at 
once ;  but,  for  the  love  of  Christ,  it  is  necessary  to  for- 
sake everything,  even  wife." 

Thus  the  crisis  approached  in  Lucerne, — the  shell 
had  fallen,  and  could  not  but  burst.  The  guests  read 
the  petitions.  "  May  God  bless  this  beginning,"  said 
Oswald,  looking  up  to  heaven  ;  and  then  added :  "  This 
prayer  must,  from  this  moment,  be  the  constant  occu- 
pation of  our  hearts."  The  petitions  were  forthwith 
circulated,  perhaps  with  more  ardour  than  Zwingle 
had  requested.  But  the  moment  was  singular.  Eleven 
individuals,  the  flower  of  the  clergy,  had  placed  them- 
selves in  the  breach, — it  was  necessary  to  enlighten 
men's  minds,  to  fix  the  irresolute,  and  gain  over  the 
most  influential  members  of  the  diet. 

Oswald,  in  the  midst  of  this  labour,  did  not  forget 
his  friend.  The  young  messenger  had  told  him  of  the 
attacks  which  Zwingle  had  to  endure  from  the  monks 
at  Zurich.  AYriting  him  the  same  day,  he  says  :  "  The 
truth  of  the  Holy  Spirit  is  invincible.  Armed  with  the 
shield  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  j-ou  have  remained  con- 
queror, not  in  one  combat  only,  nor  in  two,  but  in 
three,  and  the  fourth  is  now  commencing.  .  .  Seize 
those  powerfid  weapons  which  are  harder  than  dia- 
mond !  Christ,  in  order  to  protect  His  people,  has 
need  only  of  His  AYord.  Y'our  struggles  give  indomit- 
able courage  to  all  who  have  devoted  themselves  to 
Jesus  Christ." 

At  Lucerne  the  petitions  did  not  produce  the  result 
anticipated.  Some  pious  men  approved  of  them,  but 
these  were  few  in  number.  Several,  fearing  to  com- 
promise themselves,  were  unwilling  either  to  praise  or 
blame.  "  These  folks,"  said  others,  "  will  never  bring 
this  affair  to  a  good  end!"  All  the  priests  murmured, 
grumbled,  and  muttered  between  their  teeth.  As  to 
the  people,  they  were  loud  against  the  Gospel.  A  rage 
for  war  was  awakened  in  Lucerne  after  the  bloody  de- 
feat of  Bicoque,  and  engrossed  all  thoughts.  Oswald, 
who  was  an  attentive  observer  of  these  different  impres- 
sions, felt  his  courage  shaken.     The  evangelical  futui-e 


254 


HISTOEY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


■which  he  had  anticipated  for  Lucerne  and  Switzerland 
seemed  to  vanish.  "  Our  people,"  said  he,  uttering  a 
deep  sigh,  "are  blind  to  the  things  of  heaven.  In 
regard  to  the  glory  of  Christ  there  is  no  hope  of  the 
Swiss." 

Wrath  prevailed,  especially  in  the  council  and  the 
diet.  The  pope,  France,  England,  and  the  empire,  all 
around  Switzerland,  was  in  agitation  after  the  defeat 
of  Bicoque,  and  the  evacuation  of  Lombardy  by  the 
French  under  Lautrec.  AVere  not  political  interests  at 
that  moment  complicated  enough  before  these  eleven 
men  came  with  their  petitions  to  mingle  religious  ques- 
tions with  them  ?  The  deputies  of  Zurich  alone  were 
favourably  disposed  to  the  Gospel.  Canon  Xylotect, 
afraid  for  his  own  life,  and  that  of  his  wife, — he  had 
married  into  one  of  the  first  families  in  the  country, — 
had  refused,  with  tears  of  regret,  to  repair  to  Einsidlen, 
and  sign  the  addresses.  Canon  Kilchmeyer  had  shewn 
greater  courage.  He,  too,  had  everything  to  fear. 
"  Condemnation  threatens  me,"  he  wi'ites  to  Zwingle, 
on  the  13th  August;  "I  await  it  without  fear."  .  . 
As  he  was  writing  these  words,  an  officer  of  the  coun- 
cil entered  the  room,  and  cited  him  to  appear  next  day. 
"  If  they  put  me  in  irons,"  said  he,  continuing  his  let- 
ter, "  I  claim  your  help ;  but  it  wUl  be  easier  to  trans- 
port a  rock  from  oiu-  Alps  than  to  move  me  a  flnger's- 
breadth  from  the  Word  of  Jesus  Christ."  The  regard 
which  was  deemed  due  to  his  familj^,  and  the  resolu- 
tion which  they  had  taken  to  let  the  storm  fall  upon 
Oswald,  saved  the  canon. 

Berthold  Haller,  probably  because  he  was  not  a 
Swiss,  had  not  signed  the  petitions.  But  full  of  cour- 
age, he,  like  Zwingle,  expounded  the  Gospel  according 
to  Matthew.  A  vast  crowd  filled  the  cathedi-al  of 
Berne.  The  Word  of  God  operated  more  powerfully 
on  the  people  than  Manuel's  dramas.  Haller  was  sum- 
moned to  the  town-house ;  the  people  accompanied 
their  good-natured  pastor,  and  remained  around  the 
spot.  The  council  was  divided.  "This  concerns  the 
bishop,"  said  the  leading  men.  "  The  preacher  must 
be  handed  over  to  my  lord  of  Lausanne."  The  friends 
of  Haller  trembled  at  these  words,  and  told  him  to 
withdraw  as  quickly  as  possible.  The  people  flocked 
round,  and  accompanied  him  to  his  house,  where  a 
great  number  of  burghers  remained  in  arms,  prepared 
to  make  a  rampart  of  their  bodies  in  defence  of  their 
humble  pastor.  The  bishop  and  council  were  over- 
awed by  this  energetic  demonstration,  and  Haller  was 
saved.  Haller  was  not  the  only  combatant  at  Berne. 
Sebastian  Meyer  at  this  time  refuted  the  pastoral  letter 
of  the  Bishop  of  Constance,  and,  in  particular,  the  foi-- 
midable  charge,  "  that  the  Gospellers  teach  a  new  doc- 
trine; but  that  the  old  doctrine  is  the  true."  "To  be 
■\\'rong  for  two  thousand  years,"  said  Meyer,  "  is  not  to 
be  right  for  a  single  hour ;  otherwise  the  heathen  ought 
to  have  adhered  to  their  belief.  If  the  most  ancient 
doctrines  must  carry  the  day,  fifteen  hundred  years  are 
more  than  five  hundred  years,  and  the  Gospel  is  more 
ancient  than  the  ordinances  of  the  pope." 

At  this  period  the  magistrates  of  Friburg  intercepted 
letters  addressed  to  Haller  and  Meyer  by  a  canon  of 
Friburg,  named  John  Hollard,  a  native  of  Orbe.  They 
imprisoned,  then  deposed,  and  at  last  banished  him. 
John  Vannius,  a  chorister  in  the  cathedral,  shortly 


after  embraced  the  evangelical  doctrine;  for  in  the 
Christian  warfare  one  soldier  no  sooner  falls  than  an- 
other takes  liis  place.  "  How  could  the  muddy  water 
of  the  Tiber,"  said  Vannius,  "  subsist  beside  the  pure 
water  which  Luther  has  drawn  from  the  spring  of  St. 
Paul."  But  the  chorister's  mouth  was  also  closed. 
Myconius  wrote  to  Zwingle :  "  Scarcely  will  you  find  in 
Switzerland  men  more  averse  to  the  Gospel  than  the 
Friburgers." 

Lucerne  ought  to  have  been  stated  as  an  exception. 
This  Myconius  knew.  He  had  not  signed  the  famous 
petitions;  but  his  friends  had,  if  he  had  not,  and  a 
victim  was  required.  The  ancient  literature  of  Greece 
and  Rome  began,  thanks  to  him,  to  shed  some  light  in 
Lucerne ;  numbers  arrived  from  different  quarters  to 
attend  the  learned  professor ;  and  the  friends  of  peace 
were  charmed  with  sounds  sweeter  than  those  of  hal- 
berds, swords,  and  cuirasses,  which  alone  had  hitherto 
resounded  in  the  warlike  city.  Oswald  had  sacrificed 
everything  for  his  country.  He  had  quitted  Zurich 
and  Zwingle ;  he  had  lost  his  health ;  his  wife  was  pin- 
ing ;  his  son  was  in  childhood ;  if  even  Lucerne  rejected 
him  he  could  nowhere  hope  for  an  asylum.  But  no 
matter,  factions  have  no  pity,  and  the  thing  which 
ought  to  excite  their  compassion  stimulates  their  rage. 
Herbenstein,  burgomaster  of  Lucerne,  an  old  and  vali- 
ant warrior  who  had  gained  a  distinguished  name  in 
the  wars  of  Swabia  and  Burgundy,  followed  up  the 
deposition  of  the  teacher,  and  wished  to  banish  from 
the  canton,  with  himself,  his  Greek,  his  Latin,  and  his 
Gospel.  He  succeeded.  On  coming  out  of  the  Coun- 
cil, after  the  sederunt  at  which  Myconius  had  been 
deposed,  Herbenstein  met  the  Zurich  deputy,  Berguer. 
"  We  are  sending  you  back  your  schoolmaster,"  said 
he  to  him,  ironically;  "get  a  good  lodging  for  him." 
"  We  wont  let  him  sleep  in  the  open  air,"  immediately 
replied  the  courageous  deputy.  But  Berguer  promised 
more  than  he  could  perform. 

The  news  given  by  the  burgomaster  were  but  too 
true,  and  were  soon  intimated  to  the  unhappy  My- 
conius. He  is  deposed  and  banished ;  and  the  only 
crime  laid  to  his  charge,  is  that  of  being  a  disciple  of 
Lutlier.  He  looks  all  around,  but  nowhere  finds  a 
shelter.  He  sees  his  wife,  his  son,  and  himself,  all 
three  feeble  and  sickly,  exiled  from  their  country ;  and 
Switzerland,  all  around,  agitated  by  a  whirlwind  which 
breaks  and  destroys  everything  that  stands  in  its  way. 
"  Here,"  said  he,  then,  to  Zwingle,  "  is  poor  Myconius 
banished  by  the  Council  of  Lucerne.  .  .  Whither 
shall  I  go  ?  I  know  not.  .  .  .  Assailed  yourself 
by  these  furious  storms,  how  could  you  shelter  me  ?  I 
cry,  then,  in  my  distress  to  that  God  who  is  tlie  first  in 
whom  I  hope,  who  is  ever  bountiful,  ever  kind,  and 
who  never  calls  upon  any  to  seek  His  face  in  vain. 
May  He  supply  my  wants ! " 

Thus  spoke  Oswald;  and  he  was  not  obliged  to  wait 
long  for  a  word  of  consolation.  There  was  one  in 
Switzerland  inured  to  the  battles  of  the  faith.  Zwingle 
drew  near  to  his  friend,  and  comforting  him,  thus  ex- 
pressed himself :  "  The  blows  by  which  men  attempt  to 
overthrow  the  house  of  God  are  so  violent,  and  the  as- 
saults which  they  make  upon  it  so  frequent,  that  not 
only  do  the  wind  and  rain  beat  upon  it,  as  our  Saviour 
predicted,  (Matt.  vii.  27,)  but  the  hail  and  the  thunder. 


MYCONIUS  BANISHED  FROM  LUCERNE. 


Had  I  not  perceived  the  Lord  guiding  the  ship,  I  should, 
h)ng  ere  now,  have  cast  the  helm  into  the  sea ;  but  I 
see  Ilini  amid  the  tempest,  strengthening  tiie  tackling, 
arranging  the  yards,  stretching  the  sails, — what  do  I 
say? — commanding  the  very  winds.  .  .  .  Should 
I  not,  then,  be  a  coward,  unworthy  of  the  name  of  a 
man,  if  I  abandoned  my  post  and  fled  to  a  shameful 
death  ?  I  confide  entirely  in  His  sovereign  goodness. 
Let  Ilim  goxern,  transport,  hasten,  retard,  ])recipitate, 
arrest,  break  down,  let  Him  even  plunge  us  to  the  bot- 
tom of  the  abyss,  we  fear  nothing.  We  are  vessels 
which  belong  to  Him.  He  can  use  us  as  He  pleases, 
for  honour  or  disgrace."  After  words  thus  full  of 
faith,  Zwingle  contiinies :  "As  to  your  case,  this  is  my 
opinion.  Present  yourself  before  the  council,  and  there 
deliver  an  address  worthy  of  Christ  and  of  yourself, — 
that  is  to  say,  jn'oper  to  touch  and  not  to  irritate  men's 
Iiearts.  Deny  that  you  arc  a  disciple  of  Luther,  de- 
clare that  you  are  a  disciple  of  Jesus  Christ.  Let 
your  pupils  surrouud  you,  and  let  them  speak ;  and  if 
all  this  does  not  succeed,  come  to  yom-  friend,  come  to 
Zwingle,  and  consider  our  home  as  your  own  fireside." 

Oswald,  strengthened  by  these  words,  followed  the 
noble  coimsel  of  the  reformer ;  but  all  his  efforts  were 
useless.  The  witness  to  the  truth  behoved  to  quit  his 
country.  His  enemies  in  Lucerne  were  so  loud  against 
him,  that  the  magistrates  would  not  allow  any  one  to 
give  him  an  asylum.  Broken-hearted  at  the  sight  of 
so  much  enmity,  the  confessor  of  Jesns  Clu'lst  ex- 
claimed: "All  that  now  remains  for  me  is  to  beg  from 
door  to  door,  to  sustain  my  miserable  life."  Shortly 
after,  the  friend  and  most  powerful  assistant  of  Zwingle, 
the  first  man  in  Switzerland  who  had  imited  literary 
instruction  with  the  love  of  the  Gospel,  the  reformer  of 
Lucerne,  and,  at  a  later  period,  one  of  the  leaders  of 
the  Helvetic  cimrch,  was  obliged,  with  his  sickly  wife 
and  little  boy,  to  quit  this  ungrateful  city,  where,  out 
of  all  his  family,  the  only  one  who  had  received  the 
Gospel  was  a  sister.  He  crossed  its  ancient  bridges, 
and  bade  adieu  to  those  mountains  which  seem  to  rise 
from  the  bosom  of  the  Lake  of  AValdstetten  up  to  the 
clouds.  Canons  Xylotect  and  Kilchmeyer,  the  only 
friends  whom  the  Reformation  yet  numbered  among 
his  countrymen,  followed  shortly  after.  And  at  the 
moment  when  this  poor  man,  with  two  feeble  com- 
panions, whose  existence  depended  on  him,  with  his 
eye  turned  towards  its  lake,  and  shedding  tears  for  his 
deluded  couutr)-,  took  leave  of  those  sublime  scenes 
which  had  surroimded  his  cradle,  the  Gospel  itself 
took  leave  of  Lucerne,  and  Rome  reigns  in  it  to  this 
day. 

Shortly  after  the  diet  itself,  whicli  \va-  n^.enilded  at 
Baden,  stung  by  the  petitions  of  Eii,>i.ll.ii.  (\\liich,  be- 
ing printed,  produced  a  great  sensatinn.)  anil  urged  by 
the  Bisiiop  of  Constance  to  strike  a  blow  at  innovations, 
had  recourse  to  measures  of  persecution,  ordered  the 
authorities  of  the  villages  to  bring  before  it  all  priests 
and  laymen  who  should  speak  against  the  faith,  seized, 
iu  its  impatience,  on  the  evangelist  who  happened  to 
be  nearest  at  hand,  L^rban  Weiss,  pastor  of  Filispach, 
who  had  been  previously  released  on  caution,  made  him 
be  brought  to  Constance,  and  then  gave  him  up  to  the 
bishop,  by  whom  he  was  long  kept  in  prison.  '•  Thus," 
says  the  chi-onicle  of  Bullinger,  '•  the  persecution  of  the 


Gospel  by  the  confederates  commenced,  and  that  at 
the  instigation  of  the  clergy,  who  have  at  all  times 
delivered  Jesus  Christ  to  Herod  and  Pilate." 

Zwingle  was  not  to  escape  his  share  of  trial.  Blows 
to  which  he  was  most  sensible  were  then  struck  at  him. 
The  rumour  of  his  doctrines  and  his  contests  had 
passed  Santis,  penetrated  the  Tockeuburg,  and  reached 
the  heights  of  Wildhaus.  The  pastoral  family  from 
whom  the  reformer  had  sprung  were  moved.  Of  the 
four  brothers  of  Zwingle,  some  bad  continued  peace- 
fully to  occupy  themselves  with  their  mountain  toils ; 
whilst  others,  to  the  great  grief  of  their  brother,  had 
quitted  their  flocks  and  served  foreign  princes.  All 
were  alarmed  at  the  news  which  rumour  brought  as 
far  as  their  chalets.  Tliey  already  saw  their  brother 
seized,  dragged  perhaps  to  Constance  to  his  bishop,  and 
a  pile  erected  for  him  at  the  same  place  which  had 
consumed  the  body  of  John  Huss.  These  proud  shep- 
herds could  not  bear  the  idea  of  being  called  the 
brother  of  a  heretic.  Tiicy  wrote  to  Ulrich,  describing 
their  sorrow  and  their  fears.  Zwingle  replied :  "  So 
long  as  God  permits,  I  will  perform  the  task  which  He 
has  entrusted  to  me,  without  fearing  the  world  and  its 
proud  tyrants.  I  know  the  worst  that  can  happen  to 
me.  There  is  no  danger,  no  misfortune,  which  I  have 
not  long  carefully  weighed.  My  own  strength  is  mere 
nothingness,  and  I  know  the  power  of  my  enemies  ;  but 
I  know  also  that  I  can  do  everything  through  Christ 
strengthening  me.  Were  I  silent,  some  other  would 
be  constrained  to  do  what  God  now  does  by  me,  and  I 
would  be  punished  by  God.  Cast  far  from  you  all 
your  anxiety,  my  dear  brothers.  If  I  have  a  fear,  it 
is  that  I  have  been  gentler  and  more  easily  persuaded 
than  is  suitable  for  this  age.  What  shame,  you  say, 
will  be  cast  on  all  our  family  if  you  are  burut,  or  put 
to  death  in  some  other  way !  0  dearly  beloved  breth- 
ren !  the  Gospel  derives  from  the  blood  of  Christ  this 
wondrous  nature,  that  the  most  violent  persecutions,  far 
from  arresting,  only  hasten  its  progress.  Those  only 
are  true  soldiers  of  Christ  who  fear  not  to  bear  in  their 
body  the  wounds  of  thcii-  Master.  All  my  labours 
have  no  other  end  than  to  make  men  know  the  treasures 
of  happiness  which  Clirist  has  acquired  for  us,  in  order 
that  all  may  flee  to  the  Father  through  the  death  of 
His  Son.  If  His  doctrine  offends  you,  your  anger  can- 
not stop  me.  You  are  my  brothers, — yes,  my  own 
brothers, — the  sons  of  my  father,  and  the  offspring  of 
the  same  mother ;  .  .  .  but  if  you  were  not  my 
brethi'en  in  Christ,  and  in  the  work  of  faith,  my  grief 
would  be  so  extreme  that  nothing  could  equal  it. 
Adieu.  I  will  never  cease  to  be  your  true  brother, 
provided  you  do  not  yourselves  cease  to  be  the  bretliren 
of  Jesus  Christ." 

The  confederates  seemed  to  rise  against  the  Gospel 
as  one  man.  The  petitions  of  Einsidleu  had  been  the 
signal.  Zwingle,  concerned  for  the  lot  of  his  dear 
Myeonius,  saw  in  this  misfortune  only  the  beginning 
of  calamity.  Enemies  in  Zurich,  enemies  abroad, — a 
man's  own  relatives  becoming  his  enemies, — a  furious 
opposition  on  the  part  of  monks  and  priests, — violent 
measures  of  the  diet  and  the  councils, — rude,  perhaps 
bloody,  assaults  on  the  part  of  the  partisans  of  foreign 
service, — the  highest  valleys  of  Switzerland,  the  cradle 
of  the  confederation,  sending  forth  phalanxes  of  in- 


256 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BEFORMATION. 


viacible  soldiers  to  save  Rome,  and,  at  the  sacrifice  of 
life,  annihilating  the  growing  faith  of  the  sons  of  the 
EeformatioD, — such  was  the  prospect  at  which  the 
penetrating  mind  of  the  reformer  shuddered  when  he 
beheld  it  in  the  distance.  ^Vliat  a  prospect !  Was  not 
the  work,  scarcely  well  begun,  on  the  point  of  being 
destroyed?  Zwingle,  thoughtful  and  agitated,  spread 
all  his  anguish  before  kis  God.     "0  Jesus!"  said  he, 


upon  thee,  as  thou  hast  begun,  so  to  finish.  If  in  any- 
thing I  have  built  up  improperly,  beat  it  down  with 
thy  mighty  hand.  If  I  have  laid  some  other  founda- 
tion beside  thine,  let  thy  powerful  arm  overthrow  it. 
O  most  beloved  vine,  of  which  the  Father  is  the  vine- 
dresser, and  of  which  we  are  the  branches,  forsake 
not  thy  offspring.  For  thou  hast  promised  to  be  with 
us,  even  to  the  end  of  the  world!" 


"}ousceho\\  waked  men  and  bHsphemeis  stun  the 
eiis  ot  thy  pLoplc  with  then  cues  Thou  knowe^t 
that  from  my  infancy  i  have  hated  disputes,  and  yet, 
in  spite  of  myself,  thou  hast  ceased  not  to  urge  me  on 
to  the  combat.     .     .     .     "Wherefore,  I  confidently  call 


It  MT!  on  the  22ud  of  August,  1522,  that  Ulrich 
Zwingle,  the  rcformei  of  bwitzerlind  when  he  saw 
violent  storms  descending  from  the  mountains  on  the 
frail  barque  of  faith,  thus  expressed  the  troubles  and 
hopes  of  his  soul  in  the  presence  of  his  God. 


PROGRESS  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


BOOK     IX. 


FIRST   REFORMS.— :521-1522. 


CHAPTER  I. 


rroiO*es8  of  the  Refoniiation — NVw  Period — Advantages  of  Luthei'd  Cap- 
tivity—Agitation  of  Germany— Mehncthon  and    Lutljor— Eutlmsi- 


Four  years  had  elapsed  since  an  ancient  doctrine  had 
again  been  preached  in  the  Church.  The  great  doc- 
trine of  salvation  bi/  grace,  formerly  published  in  Asia, 
Greece,  and  Italy,  by  Paul  and  his  brethren ;  and 
again,  after  several  centuries,  discovered  in  the  Bible 
by  a  monk  of  AVittemberg,  had  echoed  from  the  plains 
of  Saxony  to  Rome,  Paris,  and  London ;  and  the  lofty 
mountains  of  Switzerland  had  repeated  its  energetic 
accents.  The  fountains  of  truth,  liberty,  and  life,  had 
been  again  opened  to  humanity.  Crowds  had  repaired 
thither  and  quaffed  with  joy;  but  those  who  had 
pressed  forward  and  taken  the  draught,  had  preserved 
their  former  appearance.  All  within  was  new,  and 
yet  all  without  seemed  to  have  remained  as  before. 

The  constitution  of  the  Church,  its  ritual,  and  disci- 
pline, had  not  undergone  any  change.  In  Saxony,  at 
Wittemberg  even,  in  every  place  where  the  new  ideas 
had  penetrated,  the  papal  worship  gravely  continued 
its  pomp ;  the  priest  at  the  foot  of  the  altar,  in  offering 
the  host  to  God,  seemed  to  produce  an  ineffable  trans- 
formation; monks  and  nuns  entered  convents  to  un- 
dertake obligations  that  were  to  bind  them  for  ever ; 
pastors  lived  not  as  heads  of  families;  brotherhoods 
assembled;  pilgrimages  were  performed;  the  faithful 
hung  up  their  votive  offerings  on  the  pillars  of  chapels  ; 
and  all  ceremonies,  even  to  the  most  insignilicant  for- 
mality of  the  sanctuary,  were  celebrated  as  before. 
There  was  a  new  doctrine  in  the  world,  but  it  had  not 
given  itself  a  new  body.  The  language  of  the  priest 
formed  a  striking  contrast  to  the  proceedings  of  the 
priest.  He  was  heard  thundering  from  the  pulpit 
against  the  mass,  as  an  idolatrous  worship ;  and  then 
seen  descending  and  taking  his  place  before  the  altar, 
to  celebrate  this  pompous  ceremony  with  scrupulous 
exactness.  Everywhere  the  new  Gospel  resounded 
beside  the  ancient  ritual.  The  priest  himself  did  not 
perceive  the  strange  inconsistency;  and  the  people  who 
listened  with  acclamation  to  the  bold  discoiu-ses  of  the 
new  preachers,  devoutly  observed  their  ancient  customs 
as  if  they  were  never  to  abandon  them.  At  the  domes- 
tic hearth  and  in  social  life,  as  in  the  house  of  God, 
everything  remained  the  same.  There  was  a  new 
faith  in  the  world,  but  not  new  works.  The  season 
of  spring  had  appeared,  but  winter  seemed  still  to  hold 
nature  in  chains  ;  no  flowers — no  leaves — nothing  ex- 
ternal gave  indication  of  the  new  season.  But  these 
appearances  were  illusory;   a  potent,  though  hidd 


was  ab-eady  circulating  beneath,  and  on  tin 
changing  the  world. 


of  ! 


To  this  course — a  course  fraught  with  wisdom — the 
Reformation  perhaps  owes  its  triimii)lis.  Prior  to  the 
actual  accompHshment  of  any  revolution,  there  must 
be  a  revolution  in  thought.  The  inconsistency  already 
alluded  to  did  not  even  strike  Luther  at  the  first 
glance.  He  seemed  to  consider  it  quite  natural  that, 
while  men  were  receiving  his  writings  with  enthusi- 
asm, they  should  at  the  same  time  remain  devotedly 
attached  to  the  abuses  which  these  writings  attacked. 
It  might  even  be  thought  that  he  had  traced  out  his 
plan  beforeliaad,  and  resolved  to  produce  a  change  of 
minds  before  introducing  a  change  of  forms.  This, 
however,  were  to  ascribe  to  him  a  wisdom,  tlie  honour 
of  which  belongs  to  a  higher  source.  He  executed  a 
plan  which  was  not  of  his  own  devising.  These  mat- 
ters he  was  able,  at  a  later  period,  to  acknowledge  and 
comprehend ;  but  he  had  not  imagined  them,  and  ac- 
cordingly had  not  regulated  them.  God  took  the  lead ; 
Luther's  part  was  to  follow. 

Had  Luther  begun  with  an  external  reform  :  had  he, 
immediately  after  he  had  spoken,  attempted  to  abolish 
monastic  vows,  the  mass,  confession,  and  the  existing 
forms  of  worship,  he  should  undoubtedly  have  en- 
countered the  keenest  opposition.  Man  must  have 
time  before  he  can  adapt  himself  to  great  revolutions. 
Luther  was  by  no  means  the  violent,  imprudent,  rash 
innovator,  that  some  historians  have  represented.'  The 
people,  seeing  nothing  changed  in  the  routine  of  their 
devotions,  committed  themselves  without  distrust  to 
their  new  leader.  They  were  even  astonished  at  the 
attacks  directed  against  a  man  who  left  them  their 
mass,  beads,  and  confessor ;  and  attributed  these 
attacks  to  the  grovelling  jealousy  of  obscure  rivals, 
or  the  cruel  injustice  of  powerful  adversaries.  Mean- 
while Luther's  ideas  aroused  the  minds  of  men,  im- 
proved their  hearts,  and  so  undermined  the  ancient 
edifice,  that  it  soon  fell  of  its  own  accord,  without  any 
human  hand.  Ideas  do  not  act  instantaneously;  they 
make  their  way  in  silence,  like  water  which,  filtering 
behind  rocks,  detaches  them  from  the  mountain  on 
which  they  rest ;  all  at  once  the  work  done  in  secret 
manifests  itself ;  and  a  single  day  suffices  to  display 
the  work  of  several  years,  perhaps  several  ages. 

A  new  era  in  the  Reformation  commences.  The 
truth  is  already  re-established  in  doctrine,  and  doctrine 
is  now  going  to  re-establish  the  truth  in  all  the  forms 
of  the  Church  and  of  society.  The  agitation  is  too 
great  for  men's  minds  to  remain  fixed  and  immoveable 
at  the  point  at  which  they  have  arrived.  On  those 
dogmas  which  have  been  so  powerfully  shaken,  depend 
customs  which  are  beginning  to  give  way,  and  which 
must  disappear  along  with  them.  There  is  too  much 
courage  and  life  in  the  new  generation  to  feel  under 


THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


constraint  in  the  presei^ce  of  erroi-  Sacraments,  ritual, 
hierarchy,  vows,  constitution,  domestic  life,  public  life, 
all  are  about  to  be  modified.  The  ship  which  has  been 
slowly  and  laboriously  built,  is  about  to  leave  the  dock, 
and  be  launched  on  the  vast  ocean.  We  shall  have  to 
follow  its  track  across  numerous  perils. 

The  captivity  of  the  Wartburg  separates  these  two 
periods.  Providence,  which  designed  to  give  a  mighty 
impulse  to  the  Reformation,  had  prepared  its  progress 
by  leading  him  who  was  selected  to  be  the  instrument 
of  it  into  profound  retirement.  For  a  time  the  work 
seemed  buried  with  the  workman  ;  but  the  seed  must 
be  deposited  in  the  earth  in  order  to  produce  fruit;  and 
fi"om  the  prison  which  seemed  destined  to  be  the  re- 
former's tomb,  the  Reformation  is  going  to  come  forth 
to  make  new  conquests,  and  rapidly  diffuse  itself  over 
the  whole  world. 

Hitherto  the  Reformation  had  been  concentrated  in 
the  person  of  the  reformer.  Ilis  appearance  before 
the  Diet  of  Worms  was,  undoubtedly,  the  sublimest 
moment  of  his  life.  His  character  then  appeared 
almost  exempt  from  blemish ;  and  hence  it  has  been 
said,  that  if  God,  whc^  hid  the  reformer  during  ten 
months  within  the  walls  of  the  Wartburg,  had,  at  that 
moment,  withdrawn  him  for  ever  from  the  eye  of  the 
world,  his  end  would  have  been  a  kind  of  apotheosis. 
But  God  wills  not  an  apotheosis  for  His  servants;  and 
Luther  was  preserved  to  the  Church,  in  order  that  he 
might  shew  by  his  very  faults  that  the  faith  of  Chris- 
tians must  be  founded  on  the  Word  of  God  alone.  He 
was  abruptly  transported  far  fi'om  the  scene  where  the 
great  revolution  of  the  sixteenth  century  was  in  course 
of  accomplishment ;  the  truth  which  he  had  for  four 
years  so  powerfully  preached  continued,  in  his  absence, 
to  act  upon  Christendom ;  and  the  work,  of  which  he 
was  only  a  feeble  instrument,  thenceforth  bore  not  the 
impress  of  a  man,  but  the  seal  of  God  himself. 

Germany  was  moved  by  the  captivity  of  Luther. 
The  most  contradictory  reports  circulated  throughout 
her  provinces.  Mens  minds  were  more  agitated  by  the 
absence  of  the  reformer  than  they  would  have  been  by 
his  presence.  Here  it  was  affirmed  that  friends,  who 
had  come  from  France,  had  set  him  in  safety  on  the 
other  bank  of  the  Rhine.  There  it  was  said  that 
assassins  had  put  him  to  death.  Even  the  smallest  vil- 
lages were  anxious  for  information  about  Luther ;  the 
passing  traveller  was  interrogated,  and  groups  assem- 
bled in  the  market-place.  Sometimes  an  unknown 
orator  gave  the  people  an  animated  narrative  of  the 
manner  in  which  the  doctor  had  been  carried  off ;  he 
shewed  the  barbarous  horsemen  binding  fast  the  hands 
of  their  prisoner,  hastening  at  full  speed,  dragging  him 
on  foot  behind  them,  wearing  out  his  strength,  shutting 
their  ears  to  his  cries,  causing  the  blood  to  spring  from 
his  fingers.  "  The  dead  body  of  Luther,"  added  he, 
"  has  been  seen  pierced  with  wounds."  Then  cries  of 
grief  were  heard.  "Ah!"  said  the  multitude,  "no 
more  shall  we  see,  no  more  shall  we  hear,  the  noble- 
minded  man  whose  voice  stirred  our  hearts."  The 
friends  of  Luthei-,  muttering  wrath,  swore  to  avenge  his 
death.  Women  and  children,  the  lovers  of  peace,  and 
the  aged,  looked  forward  with  alarm  to  new  struggles. 
Nothing  could  equal  the  terror  of  the  partisans  of 
Rome.     The  priests  and  monks,  thinking  themselves 


sure  of  victory,  because  one  man  was  dead,  at  first  had 
been  unable  to  conceal  their  joy,  and  had  raised  their 
heads  with  an  insulting  air  of  triumph ;  but  now  they 
would  gladly  have  fled  far  away  from  the  wrath  and 
threats  of  the  people.  These  men  who,  while  Luther 
was  at  liberty,  had  given  free  vent  to  their  fury, 
trembled  now  that  he  was  captive.  Aleander  especially 
was  in  consternation.  "  The  only  means  of  safety  now 
left  us,"  wrote  a  Roman  Catholic  to  the  Archbishop  of 
Mentz,  "  is  to  kindle  torches  and  make  a  search  for 
Luther  over  the  whole  world,  in  order  to  restore  him 
to  the  wishes  of  the  nation."  It  might  have  been  said 
that  the  reformer's  ghost,  all  pale,  and  clanking  its 
chains,  had  appeared  to  spread  terror  and  demand  ven- 
geance. The  general  exclamation  was :  "  Luther's 
death  will  cause  torrents  of  blood  to  flow  I " 

Nowhere  were  the  minds  of  men  more  deeply  agitated 
than  at  Worms  itself ;  energetic  measures  were  pro- 
posed both  among  people  and  princes.  Ulrich  von 
Hiitten  and  Hermann  Busch  filled  the  country  with 
their  plaintive  songs  and  warlike  cries.  Charles  V. 
and  the  nuncios  were  loudly  accused.  The  nation 
took  up  the  cause  of  the  poor  monk,  who,  by  the  power 
of  his  faith,  had  become  its  chief. 

At  Wittemberg  his  colleagues  and  friends,  Melauc- 
thon  especially,  were  at  first  astounded  with  grief. 
Luther  had  imparted  to  this  young  scholar  the  trea- 
sures of  that  sacred  theology  which  had  thenceforth 
completely  filled  his  soul.  It  was  Luther  who  had 
given  substance  and  life  to  the  purely  intellectual  cul- 
ture which  Melancthon  had  brought  to  Wittemberg. 
The  profundity  of  the  reformer's  doctrine  had  struck 
the  young  Hellenist,  and  his  courage  in  maintaining 
the  rights  of  the  eternal  Word  against  all  human 
authority  had  filled  him  with  enthusiasm.  He  had 
been  associated  with  him  in  his  work  ;  he  had  seized 
the  pen,  and  in  that  admirable  style  which  he  had  de- 
rived from  the  study  of  antiquity,  had  successfully,  and 
with  a  powerful  hand,  lowered  the  authority  of  the 
Fathers  and  the  authority  of  councils  before  the  sove- 
reign Word  of  God. 

The  decision  which  Luther  had  in  action  Melancthon 
had  in  science.  Never  were  more  diversity  and  more 
unity  exhibited  in  two  individuals.  "  Scripture,"  said 
Melancthon,  "  imparts  to  the  soul  a  holy  and  marvel- 
lous delight.  It  is  a  heavenly  ainbrosia."  "The  Word 
of  God,"  exclaimed  Luther,  "  is  a  sword,  a  war,  a 
destruction ;  it  springs  upon  the  children  of  Ephraim 
like  the  lioness  in  the  forest."  Thus,  in  Scripture,  the 
one  saw  a  power  of  consolation,  and  the  other  an  ener- 
getic opposition  to  the  corruption  of  the  world.  Both 
held  it  to  be  the  greatest  thing  on  earth,  and  hence 
they  understood  each  other  perfectly.  "  Melancthon," 
said  Luther,  "  is  a  miracle — all  now  acknowledge  this. 
He  is  the  most  formidable  enemy  of  Satan  and  the 
schoolmen,  for  he  knows  their  folly,  and  the  Rock 
which  is  Christ.  This  little  Greek  surpasses  me  even 
in  theology;  he  will  be  as  useful  to  you  as  many 
Luthers."  And  he  added,  that  he  was  ready  to  aban- 
don au  opinion  if  Philip  did  not  approve  of  it.  Me- 
lancthon, on  his  part,  full  of  admiration  for  the  know- 
ledge which  Luther  had  of  Scripture,  placed  him  far 
above  the  Fathers  of  the  Church.  He  had  a  wish  to 
excuse  the  pleasantries  for  which  Luther  was  some- 


NEWS  OF  LUTHER'S  SAFETY. 


times  upbraided,  and  compared  him  to  a  vessel  of  clay 
containing  precious  treasure  under  a  coarse  covering. 
"I  will  take  good  care  not  to  blame  him  for  them  in- 
considerately," said  he. 

But  these  two  souls,  so  intimately  united,  are  now 
separated.  Tiiese  two  valiant  soldiers  can  no  longer 
marcli  together  for  the  deliverance  of  the  Church. 
I.uther  has  disappeared,  and  is,  perhaps,  lost  for  over. 
The  consternation  of  AVittemberg  was  extreme ;  it 
might  have  been  likened  to  an  army  standing,  with 
sullen  and  downcast  look,  over  the  bloody  remains  of 
the  general  wlio  was  leading  them  on  to  victory. 

Suddenly  intelligence  the  most  gratifying  was  re- 
ceived. '•  Our  dearly  beloved  father  lives!"  exclaimed 
Melancthon  in  the  joy  of  his  heart;  "  take  courage  and 
be  strong."  But  grief  soon  resumed  the  ascendancy. 
Luther  w;is  alive,  but  in  prison.  The  edict  of  Worms, 
with  its  cruel  prescriptions,  had  been  circulated  by 
thousands  throughout  the  empire,  and  even  in  the 
mountains  of  the  Tyrol.  Could  the  Reformation  avoid 
being  crushed  by  the  iron  hand  which  lay  upon  it? 
Melancthon's  gentle  spirit  sank  within  him  while  he 
uttered  a  cry  of  grief. 

But  above  the  hand  of  man  a  more  powerful  hand 
was  at  work, — God  himself  deprived  the  formidable 
edict  of  its  force.  The  German  princes,  who  had 
always  sought  to  humble  the  power  of  Rome  in  the 
empire,  trembled  on  seeing  the  alliance  of  the  emperor 
with  the  pope,  and  feared  lest  it  should  result  in  the 
destruction  of  all  their  liberties.  Accordingly,  though 
Ciiarles,  on  his  passage  through  the  Low  Countries, 
smiled  ironically  as  he  saluted  the  flames  which  some 
flatterers  and  fanatics  were  kindling  in  the  public 
places  with  the  writings  of  Luther,  these  writings 
were  read  in  Germany  with  constantly  increasing 
avidity;  and  every  day  new  pamphlets  appeared  to 
support  the  Reformation,  and  make  new  assaults  on 
the  papacy.  The  nuncios  were  disconcerted  out  of 
measure  on  seeing  that  the  edict,  which  had  cost  them 
so  much  injustice,  produced  so  little  effect.  "The  ink 
of  the  emperor's  signature,"  said  some  with  bitterness, 
"  was  scarcely  dry  before  the  decree  itself  was  every- 
where torn  in  pieces."  .  ,  .  The  people  become 
more  and  more  attached  to  the  wondrous  man  who, 
unawed  by  the  thunders  of  Charles  and  the  pope,  had 
confessed  his  faith  with  the  courage  of  a  martyr.  '•  He 
offered  to  retract,"  observed  others,  "  if  he  was  refuted ; 
but  none  ventured  to  undertake  the  refutation.  Ls  not 
this  a  proof  tliat  what  he  teaches  is  true?"  Accord- 
ingly, at  Wittembcrg  and  throughout  the  empire,  the 
first  movement  of  alarm  was  succeeded  by  a  movement 
of  enthusiasm.  Even  the  Archbishop  of  Mentz,  seeing 
how  strongly  the  sympathy  of  the  people  was  expressed, 
did  not  venture  to  give  permission  to  the  Cordeliers  to 
preach  against  the  reformer.  The  university,  which 
seemed  on  the  eve  of  destruction,  raised  its  head. 
There  the  new  doctrines  were  too  well  established  to 
be  shaken  by  Luther's  absence.  In  a  short  time  the 
academic  halls  could  scarcely  contain  the  crowds  of 
hearers. 


CHAPTER  II. 

Lutlior  In  th9  Wartburg— Object  of  hia  Captivity— Asonles—Slcknoss— 
Labour  of  Luthei-— On  Confession— To  Latoraus— Wnlks. 

MEANWini-E  Knight  George  (this  was  Luther's  name 
in  the  "Wartburg)  lived  solitary  and  unknown.  '-If 
you  saw  me,"  wrote  he  to  Melancthon,  '-you  would 
take  me  for  a  knight,  and  would  scarcely  be  able  to 
recognize  me."  Luther  at  first  took  some  repose,  en- 
joying a  leisure  which  he  had  never  tasted  till  this 
time.  He  moved  freely  within  the  fortress,  but  could 
not  go  beyond  its  walls.  All  liis  wants  were  supplied, 
and  he  had  never  been  better  treated.  Many  thoughts 
filled  his  soul,  but  none  could  trouble  him.  He  cast 
his  eyes  alternately  to  the  surrounding  forests,  and 
raised  them  towards  heaven:  "A  singular  captive!" 
exclaimed  he,  "captive  both  with  and  against  my 
will." 

"Writing  to  Spalatiu,  he  says :  "  Pray  for  me ;  your 
prayers  are  the  only  thing  I  want.  I  give  myself  no 
concern  with  all  that  is  said  and  done  with  regard  to 
me  in  the  world.  At  length  I  am  at  rest."  .  .  . 
This  letter,  as  well  as  several  others  of  the  same 
period,  is  dated  from  the  isle  of  Patmos.  Luther 
compared  the  Wartburg  to  the  celebrated  island  to 
which  the  anger  of  the  Emperor  Domitian  banished 
the  Apostle  John. 

The  reformer  reposed,  amid  the  dark  forests  of 
Thuringia,  from  the  violent  struggles  which  had  agi- 
tated his  soul.  Here  he  studied  Christian  truth,  not 
for  disputation,  but  as  a  means  of  regeneration  and 
life.  The  commencement  of  the  Reformation  behoved 
to  be  polemical ;  new  times  demanded  new  exertions. 
After  rooting  up  the  thorns  and  brambles,  it  was 
necessary  to  sow  the  seed  peacefully  in  men's  hearts. 
Had  Luther  been  obliged  incessantly  to  fight  new  bat- 
tles, he  could  not  have  accomplished  a  lasting  work  in 
the  Church.  By  his  captivity  he  escaped  a  danger 
which  might  perhaps  have  destroyed  the  Reformation, 
— that  of  always  attacking  and  destroying,  without 
ever  defending  and  building  up. 

This  humble  retreat  produced  a  result  still  more 
precious.  Raised,  as  it  were,  upon  a  pedestal  by  his 
countrymen,  he  was  within  a  step  of  the  abyss ;  and  a 
moment  of  giddiness  might  have  sufficed  to  throw  him 
headlong  into  it.  Some  of  the  first  agents  in  the 
Reformation  in  Germany  and  Switzerland  were 
dashed  to  pieces  against  the  rock  of  spiritual  pride 
and  fanaticism.  Luther  was  a  man  very  subject  to 
the  infirmities  of  our  nature,  and  he  did  not  entirely 
escape  these  dangers.  Still  the  hand  of  God  delivered 
him  from  them  for  a  time,  by  suddenly  withdrawing 
him  from  intoxicating  triumphs,  and  consigning  him 
to  the  depth  of  an  unknown  retreat.  His  soul  there 
communed  with  itself  near  to  God;  it  was  there 
bathed  in  the  waters  of  adversity;  his  sufferings,  his 
humiliations,  constrained  him,  at  least  for  a  time,  to 
walk  with  the  humble;  and  the  principles  of  the 
Christian  life  thencefortli  were  developed  in  his  soul 
with  new  energy  and  freedom. 

Luther's  quiet  was  not  of  long  duration.     Seated  on 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


the  walls  of  the  Wartburg,  he  speut  whole  days  ab- 
sorbed in  profound  meditation.  Sometimes  the  Church 
presented  herself  to  his  mind,  and  displayed  all  her 
miseries  before  him.  At  other  times,  turning  his  eye 
upwards  with  hope  towards  heaven,  he  exclaimed: 
How,  0  Lord,  couldst  thou  hare  made  all  men  in  vain? 
(Ps.  Ixxxix.  48.)  At  other  times,  again  abandoning 
this  hope,  he  was  downcast,  and  exclaimed:  "Alas, 
there  is  no  one,  in  the  last  day  of  His  wrath,  who  can 
stand  as  a  wall  before  the  Lord  to  save  Israel ! "     .     . 

Then  retm-ning  to  his  own  destiny,  he  feared  lest  he 
should  be  accused  of  having  abandoned  the  field  of 
battle ;  and  the  idea  afflicted  his  soul.  "  I  would  far 
rather,"  said  he,  "  be  laid  on  burning  coals,  than  stag- 
nate here  half-dead." 

Next,  transporting  himself  in  imagination  to  Worms 
and  Wittemberg  to  the  midst  of  his  enemies,  he  regret- 
ted that  he  had  yielded  to  the  counsels  of  his  friends, 
instead  of  remaining  in  the  world,  and  offering  his 
breast  to  the  fury  of  men.  "  Ah  ! "  said  he,  "  there  is 
nothing  I  desire  more  than  to  present  myself  before 
my  cruel  enemies." 

Still  some  sweet  thought  arose,  and  gave  a  truce  to 
these  agonies.  All  was  not  torment  to  Luther ;  from 
time  to  time  his  agitated  spirit  found  some  degree  of 
calmness  and  consolation.  After  the  assurance  of 
Divine  aid,  his  greatest  solace  in  his  grief  was  the 
remembrance  of  Melancthon.  "  If  I  perish,"  wrote  he 
to  him,  "  the  Gospel  will  lose  nothing ;  you  will  suc- 
ceed me  as  Elisha  did,  with  a  double  measure  of  my 
spirit."  But  calling  to  mind  Philip's  timidity,  he  cried 
to  him  aloud  :  "  Minister  of  the  Word  !  guard  the  walls 
and  towers  of  Jerusalem  until  the  adversary  strike  you. 
We  are  still  standing  alone  on  the  field  of  battle :  after 
me  they  will  next  assail  you." 

The  thought  of  this  last  attack  which  Rome  was 
going  to  make  on  the  rising  Church,  threw  him  into 
new  anxiety.  The  poor  monk,  a  solitary  prisoner, 
had  violent  wrestling  with  himself.  But  suddenly  he 
obtained  a  glimpse  of  his  deliverance.  It  occurred  to 
him  that  the  attacks  of  the  papacy  would  arouse  the 
nations  of  Germany,  and  that  the  soldiers  of  the  Gos- 
pel, proving  victorious,  would  surround  the  Wartburg. 
and  give  liberty  to  the  prisoner.  "  If  the  pope,"  said 
he,  "  lays  hands  on  all  who  are  for  me,  there  will  be 
a  commotion  in  Germany;  the  more  haste  he  makes  to 
crush  us,  the  more  speedy  will  be  the  end  both  of  him 
and  his.  And  I  .  .  .  will  be  restored  to  you. 
God  is  awakening  many  minds,  and  stirring  up  the 
nations.  Let  our  enemies  only  seize  om-  cause  in 
their  arms,  and  try  to  strangle  it ;  it  will  grow  under 
their  grasp,  and  come  forth  ten  times  more  for- 
midable." 

But  sickness  brought  him  down  from  those  heights 
to  which  his  courage  and  his  faith  had  elevated  him. 
He  had  already  suffered  much  at  Worms ;  and  his  ill- 
ness increased  in  solitude.  He  could  not  digest  the 
food  of  the  Wartburg,  which  was  somewhat  less 
homely  than  that  of  his  convent:  it  was  necessary 
to  retm-n  to  the  poor  fare  to  which  he  had  been  accus- 
tomed. He  passed  whole  nights  without  sleep.  An- 
guish of  mind  was  added  to  bodily  suffering.  No  work 
is  accomplished  without  pain  and  self-denial.  Luther, 
alone  upon  his  rock,  endured  in  his  powerful  nature  a 


passion  which  the  emancipation  of  humanity  rendered 
necessary.  "Seated  at  night  in  my  chamber,"  says 
he,  "I  sent  forth  cries  like  a  woman  in  travail — torn, 
wounded,  and  bleeding."  Then,  interrupting  his  com- 
plaints, and  impressed  with  the  thought  that  his 
sufferings  were  benefits  from  God,  he  gratefully  ex- 
claims :  "  Thanks  be  rendered  unto  thee,  O  Christ,  in 
that  thou  hast  been  pleased  not  to  leave  me  without 
the  precious  relics  of  thy  holy  cross ! "  He  soon  be- 
comes indignant  at  himself,  and  exclaims:  "Infatuated, 
hardened  creature  that  I  am !  How  grievous  !  I  pray 
little,  I  wrestle  little  with  the  Lord,  I  do  not  groan  for 
the  Church  of  God.  Instead  of  being  fervent  in  spirit, 
my  passions  only  are  inflamed ;  I  remain  in  sloth,  sleep, 
and  indolence."  Then,  not  knowing  to  what  tliis  state 
should  be  ascribed,  and  accustomed  to  expect  every- 
thing from  the  affection  of  his  brethren,  he  exclaims, 
in  the  desolation  of  his  soul :  "  O  my  friends !  is  it 
because  you  forget  to  pray  for  me  that  God  is  thus 
estranged  from  me  ?  " 

Those  about  him,  as  well  as  his  friends  at  Wittem- 
berg and  in  the  elector's  court,  were  uneasy  and 
alarmed  at  this  state  of  suffering.  They  trembled  to 
think,  that  a  life  snatched  from  the  scaffold  of  the 
pope  and  the  sword  of  Charles  V.  should  sadly  wane 
and  vanish  away.  Can  the  Wartburg  be  destined  to 
be  the  tomb  of  Luther?  "I  fear,"  said  Melancthon, 
"that  the  grief  which  he  feels  for  the  Church  wiU  be 
his  death.  A  torch  has  been  kindled  by  him  in  Israel : 
if  it  is  extinguished,  what  hope  will  be  left  us  ?  Would 
to  God  I  were  able,  at  the  cost  of  my  miserable  life,  to 
detain  in  the  world  one  who  is  its  brightest  ornament." 
"  Oh  !  what  a  man ! "  he  exclaims,  as  if  he  were  on  the 
borders  of  the  tomb ;  "  we  have  not  duly  appreciated 
him." 

What  Luther  called  the  unbecoming  indolence  of  his 
prison,  was  labour  almost  above  man's  utmost  strength. 
"I  am  here  every  day,"  said  he,  (14th  May,)  "in  idle- 
ness and  luxury,  (referring,  doubtless,  to  his  fare, 
which  at  first  was  not  quite  so  coarse  as  he  had  been 
accustomed  to.)  I  read  the  Bible  in  Hebrew  and 
Greek ;  I  am  going  to  write  a  discourse  in  German  on 
auricular  confession ;  I  will  continue  the  translation  of 
the  Psalms,  and  compose  a  collection  of  sermons  as 
soon  as  I  get  from  Wittemberg  what  I  require.  I 
write  without  intermission ; "  and  yet  these  were  only 
a  part  of  Luther's  labours. 

His  enemies  thought  that  if  he  was  not  dead,  at  all 
events  his  voice  would  not  again  be  heard  ;  but  their 
joy  was  of  short  duration,  and  the  world  was  not  left 
long  in  doubt  whether  he  were  alive.  A  multitude  of 
writings,  composed  in  the  Wartburg,  appeared  in  rapid 
succession,  and  the  cherished  voice  of  the  reformer  was 
everywhere  received  with  enthusiasm.  Luther  pub- 
lished at  once  works  fitted  to  edify  the  Church,  and 
polemical  treatises  which  interrupted  the  too  hasty  joy 
of  his  enemies.  For  nearly  a  year  he  instructed,  ex- 
horted, rebuked,  and  thundered  from  his  mountain-top ; 
and  his  adversaries,  confounded,  asked  whether  there 
were  not  some  supernatural  mystery  in  this  prodigious 
activity.     "He  could  not  rest,"  says  Cochteus. 

The  ouly  mystery  was,  the  imprudence  of  the  parti- 
sans of  Rome.  They  hastened  to  avail  themselves  of 
the  edict  of  Worms  to  give  a  mortal  blow  to  the  Refor- 


LUTHER'S  PROMENADES  AND  HUNTING  EXCURSIONS. 


mation ;  wlulc  Luther,  condemned,  placed  under  the 
ban  of  the  empire,  and  shut  up  in  the  Wartburg,  stood 
forth  to  defend  sound  doctrine,  a,s  if  he  had  been  still 
free  and  victorious.  It  was  in  the  confessional  espe- 
cially that  the  priests  strove  to  rivet  the  chains  of 
their  deluded  parishioners ;  and  accordingly  confession 
was  the  object  of  Luther's  first  attack.  "  They  found," 
says  he,  "  on  the  words  of  St.  James :  Confess  i/our  sins 
one  to  another.  Singular  confession !  He  says,  one  to 
another;  whence  it  should  follow,  that  confessors  ought 
also  to  confess  to  their  penitents ;  that  every  Christian 
should,  in  his  turn,  be  pope,  bishop,  priest ;  and  that 
the  pope  himself  should  confess  to  all." 

Scarcely  had  Luther  finished  this  small  work  than 
he  began  another.  Latomus,  a  theologian  of  Louvain, 
already  celebrated  for  his  opposition  to  Reuchlin  and 
Erasmus,  had  attacked  the  views  of  the  reformer.  In 
twelve  days  Luther's  refutation  was  ready,  and  it  is  one 
of  his  masterpieces.  He  vindicates  himself  from  the 
charge  of  wanting  moderation.  '•  The  moderation  of 
the  age,"  says  he,  "  is  to  bend  the  knee  before  sacrile- 
gious pontiffs,  impious  sophists,  and  address  them  as 
gracious  lord !  excellent  master !  Then,  when  you  have 
done  so,  you  may  put  to  death  whomsoever  you  please  ; 
overturn  the  world,  nay,  you  will  still  be  a  moderate 
man.  Far  from  me  be  this  moderation.  I  like  better 
to  be  frank  and  deceive  nobody.  The  shell,  perhaps, 
is  hard,  but  the  kernel  is  sweet  and  tender." 

Luther's  health  continuing  to  decline,  he  thought  of 
quitting  the  Wartburg.  But  how  was  he  to  do  it? 
To  appear  in  public  was  to  risk  his  life.  The  back  of 
the  mountain,  on  which  the  fortress  stood,  was  travei-sed 
by  numerous  paths,  the  sides  of  which  were  bordered 
with  tufts  of  strawbeiTies.  The  massy  gate  of  the 
castle  was  opened,  and  the  prisoner  ventured,  not  with- 
out fear,  stealthily  to  gather  some  of  the  fruit.  He 
became  bolder  by  degrees,  and  began  to  survey  the  sur- 
rounding country  in  his  knight's  dress,  ind  itten  led  1  \ 
a  guard  of  the  castle,  a  blunt  but  tin  U\  itli\  ni  ii 
One  day  having  entered  in  inn 
he  threw  aside  his  sword  -(^  huh 
enciunbered  him,  and  i  \n  to- 
wards some  book  which  hip 
pened  to  be  lying.  Nature  w  is 
stronger  than  prudence  His 
attendant  trembled,  fearing  th  It 
a  proceeding  so  unusual  in  i 
warrior  would  be  regaided  vj 
a  proof  that  the  doctor  was  not 
a  true  knight.  On  anothei 
occasion  the  two  warriors  de- 
scended into  the  convent  ot 
Reinhardsbruun,  where  Lu- 
ther had  slept  a  few  months 
before,  on  his  way  to  Worms 
Suddenly  a  friar  allowed  a  sign 
of  surprise  to  escape  from  him 
Luther  is  recognised.  Ilia  it 
tendant  perceives  it,  and,  drag- 
ging him  off  in  all  haste,  they 
gallop  away  far  from  the  con- 
vent, before  the  poor  friar  has 
time  to  recover  from  his  as- 
tonishment. 


Tiio  chivalric  life  of  the  doctor  occasionally  partook 
strongly  of  the  theological.  One  day  the  nets  are  pre- 
jiared,  the  gates  of  the  fortress  are  thrown  open,  and 
the  dogs,  with  long  flapping  ears,  rush  forth.  Luther 
had  wished  to  taste  the  pleasures  of  the  chase.  The 
hunters  soon  become  animated,  the  dogs  dart  along, 
and  drive  the  brown  hares  among  the  brushwood.  In 
tlic  midst  of  the  turmoil  the  Chevalier  George,  stand- 
ing motionless,  had  his  mind  filled  with  serious  thoughts ; 
at  the  sight  of  the  objects  around  him  his  heart  is 
bursting  with  grief.  "  Is  it  not,"  said  he,  "  an  image 
of  the  devil  who  arouses  his  dogs, — in  other  words,  tlic 
bishops,  those  messengers  of  Antichrist, — and  hounds 
them  on  in  pursuit  of  poor  souls?"  A  young  hare  had 
just  been  caught,  and  Luther,  happy  to  save  it,  wraps 
it  carefully  in  his  cloak,  and  places  it  under  a  bush. 
Before  he  proceeds  many  steps  the  dogs  scent  out  tlie 
poor  creature  and  kill  if.  Luther,  attracted  by  the 
noise,  utters  a  cry  of  grief ;  "  O  pope ! "  says  he ;  "  and 
thou,  Satan !  it  is  thus  you  strive  to  destroy  even  those 
souls  which  have  been  already  saved  from  death  I" 


CHAPTER  UI. 

TIk;  Kefonuation  Beaius— Marriagt  of  Fddkirchen— Marriage  of  Jlonks- 
Theses— Writes  against  Monachism— Luther  Coases  to  be  a  Monlt. 

AViiiLE  the  doctor  of  Wittemberg,  dead  to  the  world, 
was  relaxing  himself  by  these  sports  in  the  environs  of 
the  Wartburg,  the  work  was  advancing  as  of  itself ; 
the  Reformation  had  commenced.  No  longer  confin- 
ing itself  to  doctrine,  it  energetically  advanced  into  act. 
Bernard  Feldkirchen,  pastor  of  Kemberg,  who,  under 
the  direction  of  Luther,  had  first  attacked  the  errors  of 
Rome  -i^T  ilso  the  fir  t  to  throw  off  the  yoke  of  hei 
in  tituti  11        Ho  mmi    1 


ENTRANCE  HALl 


iRTBURG. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


The  German  character  delights  iu  domestic  life  and 
the  joys  of  home ;  accordingly,  of  all  the  ordinances  of 
the  papacy,  that  of  forced  celibacy  had  produced  the 
worst  consequences.  The  imposition  of  this  law  on  the 
heads  of  the  clergy  had  prevented  the  fiefs  of  the 
Church  from  becoming  hereditary.  But  when  ex- 
tended by  Gregory  VII.  to  the  lower  clergy,  it  had  led 
to  deplorable  results.  Many  priests  had  evaded  the 
obligations  imposed  on  them  by  shameful  irregularities, 
and  brought  hatred  and  contempt  on  their  order ;  while 
those  who  had  submitted  to  Hildebraud's  law  felt  in- 
wardly indignant  against  the  Chxu-ch,  because  at  the 
same  time  that  it  gave  its  high  dignitaries  so  much 
power,  wealth,  and  worldly  enjoyment,  it  forced  humble 
ministers,  who  were,  however,  its  most  useful  supports, 
to  sacrifices  altogether  contrary  to  the  Gospel. 

"  Neither  popes  nor  councils,"  said  Feldkirchen  and 
another  pastor  named  Seidler,  who  followed  his  example, 
"  can  impose  on  the  Church  an  ordinance  which  endan- 
gers soul  and  body.  The  obligation  to  maintain  the 
law  of  God  constrains  us  to  violate  the  traditions  of 
men."  The  re-establishment  of  marriage  iu  the  six- 
teenth century  was  an  act  of  homage  to  the  moral  law. 
The  ecclesiastical  authority,  taking  alarm,  immediately 
launched  its  decrees  against  the  two  priests.  Seidler, 
who  was  in  the  territories  of  Duke  George,  was  given 
up  to  his  superiors,  and  died  in  prison.  But  the  Elector 
Frederick  refused  to  give  up  Feldkirchen  to  tlie  Arch- 
bishop of  Magdebourg.  "  His  highness,"  said  Spalatin, 
"has  no  wish  to  act  as  a  police  officer."  Feldkirchen, 
therefore,  though  he  had  become  a  husband  and  a  father, 
continued  pastor  of  his  flock. 

The  first  emotion  of  the  reformer  on  learning  these 
things  was  to  give  expression  to  his  joy.  "  I  admire 
this  new  husband  of  Kemberg,  who  fears  nothing,  and 
hastens  iuto  the  midst  of  the  tumult."  Luther  was 
convinced  that  priests  ought  to  marry.  But  this  ques- 
tion led  to  another — the  marriage  of  monks ;  and  here 
Luther  had  to  maintain  one  of  those  internal  combats 
of  which  his  whole  life  was  composed  ;  for  every  refor- 
mation must  be  effected  by  an  intellectual  struggle. 
Melancthon  and  Carlstadt,  the  one  a  layman  and  the 
other  a  priest,  thought  that  the  liberty  of  entering  into 
the  bonds  of  marriage  ought  to  belong  to  monks  as  well 
as  to  priests.  Luther,  a  monk,  did  not  think  so  at  first. 
One  day  the  governor  of  the  Wartburg  having  brought 
him  some  theses  of  Carlstadt  on  celibacy:  "Good 
God!"  exclaimed  he,  "will  om-  Wittembergers  give 
wives  to  monks  even?"  .  .  .  The  idea  astonished 
and  confounded  him;  his  mind  was  troubled.  The 
liberty  which  he  claimed  for  others,  he  rejected  for 
himself.  "Ah !"  exclaimed  he  with  indignation,  "at 
all  events  they  will  not  force  me  to  take  a  wife."  This 
saying  is,  doubtless,  unknown  to  those  who  pretend 
that  Luther  effected  the  Eeformation  in  order  that  he 
might  be  able  to  marry.  Seeking  the  truth  honestly, 
not  through  passion,  he  defended  whatever  presented 
itself  to  him  as  true,  though  it  might  be  contrary  to  his 
system  as  a  whole.  He  moved  in  a  mixture  of  truth 
and  error,  waiting  the  time  when  all  error  would  fall 
and  truth  alone  remain. 

There  was,  in  fact,  a  great  difference  between  the  two 
questions.  The  marriage  of  the  priests  did  not  put  an 
end  to  the  priesthood;  on  the  contrary,  it  alone  could 


restore  the  secular  clergy  to  the  respect  of  the  people ; 
but  the  marriage  of  monks  was  the  destruction  of 
monachism.  The  question,  then,  was  to  determine 
whether  it  was  necessary  to  break  up  and  disband  the 
mighty  army  which  the  popes  held  under  their  com- 
mand? "The  priests,"  wrote  Luther  to  Melancthon, 
"  are  appointed  of  God,  and  consequently  are  free  in 
regard  to  human  commandments.  But  the  monks  have 
voluntarily  chosen  celibacy,  and  therefore  are  not  free 
to  withdraw  themselves  from  the  yoke  of  their  own 
choice." 

The  reformer  behoved  to  advance  and  carry  this 
new  position  of  the  adversary  by  means  of  a  new 
struggle.  He  had  already  put  under  his  feet  many 
abuses  of  Eome  and  Eome  itself ;  but  monachism  was 
still  standing.  Monachism,  which  of  old  carried  life 
into  so  many  deserts,  and  which,  after  traversing  many 
centuries,  now  filled  so  many  cloisters  with  indolence, 
and  often  with  luxury,  seemed  to  have  personified  itself 
and  come  to  defend  its  rights  in  the  castle  of  Thuringia, 
where  was  to  be  decided,  iu  the  conscience  of  a  single 
man,  the  question  of  its  life  or  its  death.  Luther 
wrestled  with  it.  Sometimes  he  was  on  the  point  of 
overcoming  it,  and  sometimes  he  was  on  the  point  of 
being  overcome.  At  length,  unable  any  longer  to 
maintain  the  combat,  he  prostrated  himself  in  prayer 
at  the  feet  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  exclaimed :  "  Instruct 
us  !  deliver  us !  In  thy  mercy  establish  us  iu  the  liberty 
which  belongs  to  us,  for  certainly  we  are  thy  people." 

He  had  not  to  wait  for  deliverance  :  an  important 
revolution  was  produced  in  the  reformer's  mind ;  and 
it  was  again  the  doctrine  of  justification  by  faith  that 
gave  him  the  victory.  This  weapon,  before  which  had 
fallen,  in  the  mind  of  Luther  and  of  Christendom,  in- 
dulgences, the  discipline  of  Home,  and  the  pope  himself, 
also  effected  the  downfall  of  the  monks.  Luther  saw 
that  monachism  and  the  doctrine  of  salvation  by  grace 
were  iu  flagrant  opposition,  and  that  monastic  life  was 
founded  entirely  on  the  pretended  merits  of  man. 
Thenceforth,  convinced  that  the  glory  of  Jesus  Christ 
was  at  stake,  he  heard  a  voice  within  incessantly 
repeating,  "Monachism  must  fall."  "So  long,"  said 
he,  "  as  the  doctrine  of  justification  continues  in  the 
Church  unimpaired,  no  man  will  become  a  monk." 
This  conviction  always  acquired  more  strength  in  his 
heart;  and  in  the  beginning  of  September,  he  sent 
"  to  the  bishops  and  deacons  of  the  Church  of  Wittem- 
berg "  the  following  theses,  which  formed  his  declara- 
tion of  war  against  monastic  life : — 

"  Whatsoever  is  not  of  faith  is  sin,  (Rom.  xiv.  23.) 

"  Whosoever  makes  a  vow  of  virginity,  chastity,  or 
service  to  God  without  faith,  makes  an  impious  and 
idolatrous  vow,  and  makes  it  to  the  devil  himself. 

"  To  make  such  vows,  is  to  be  worse  than  the  priests 
of  Cybele,  or  the  vestals  of  the  heathen  ;  for  the  monks 
pronounce  their  vows  in  the  idea  that  they  are  to  be 
faithful  and  saved  by  them;  and  what  ought  to  be 
ascribed  solely  to  the  mercy  of  God,  is  thus  attributed 
to  the  merit  of  works. 

"  Such  convents  shoiUd  be  completely  overturned,  as 
houses  of  the  devil. 

"  There  is  only  one  order  which  is  holy  and  produces 
holiness,  and  that  is  Christianity  or  faith. 

"  Convents,  to  be  usefid,  should  be  schools,  in  which 


LUTHER  REJECTS  MONACHISM. 


children  might  be  triiined  to  man's  estate  ;  whereas  they 
are  Iioiises  iu  wliich  full  grown  men  again  become 
children,  and  so  continue  ever  after." 

Wc  see  that  at  this  period  Luther  would  still  have 
tolerated  convents  as  houses  of  education;  but  his 
attacks  on  these  establishments  soon  became  more  en- 
ergetic. The  immorality  of  cloisters,  and  the  shame- 
ful practices  which  prevailed  in  them,  were  vividly 
present  to  his  mind.  "  I  am  desirous,"  wrote  he  to 
Spalatin  on  the  11th  November,  "to  deliver  young 
people  from  the  infernal  flames  of  celibacy."  Then  he 
wrote  a  treatise  against  celibacy,  and  dedicated  it  to 
his  father.  "Are  you  desirous,"  said  he,  in  his  dedi- 
cation to  the  old  man  of  Mansfeld, — "  are  you  still 
desirous  to  snatch  nie  from  monasticism?  You  arc 
entitled  to  do  so,  for  you  are  still  my  father,  and  I  am 
still  your  son.  But  it  is  no  longer  necessary;  God  has 
gone  before  you,  and  snatched  me  from  it  by  His  own 
power.  What  matters  it  whether  I  continue  or  lay 
aside  the  tonsure  and  monk's  hood  I  Is  it  the  hood — 
is  it  the  tonsure,  that  makes  a  monk?  All  thimjs  are 
yours,  says  St.  Paul,  and  you  are  Christ's.  I  belong 
not  to  tlie  hood,  but  the  hood  to  me.  I  am  a  monk, 
and  yet  not  a  monk ;  I  am  a  new  creature,  not  of  the 
pope,  but  of  Jesus  Christ.  Christ  alone,  and  without 
any  intermediate  person,  is  my  bishop,  my  abbot,  my 
prior,  my  lord,  my  father;  and  I  know  no  other. 
What  matters  it  to  me  though  the  pope  should  con- 
demn and  butcher  me?  He  will  not  be  able  to  bring 
me  forth  from  the  tomb  to  do  it  a  second  time.  The 
great  day  is  approaching  when  the  kingdom  of  abomi- 
nations will  be  overthrown.  Would  to  God  we  were 
worthy  of  being  butchered  by  the  pope.  Our  blood 
would  cry  to  Heaven  against  him ;  and  thus  his  judg- 
ment would  be  hastened,  and  his  end  brought  near." 

The  transformation  had  been  produced  in  Luther 
himself ;  he  was  no  longer  a  monk.  This  change  was 
not  the  result  of  external  causes  of  human  passions,  of 
carnal  precipitancy.  There  had  been  a  struggle  in  it. 
Luther  had  at  first  been  arrayed  on  the  side  of 
monachism ;  but  truth  also  had  entered  the  lists,  and 
monachism  had  been  vanquished.  The  victories  which 
passion  gains  are  ephemeral,  whereas  those  of  truth 
are  durable  and  decisive. 


CH^VJPTER  IV. 

Archbishop  Albert— The  Idol  of  Halle— Luther  appears— Terror  at  the 
Court— Luther  to  the  Archbishop— The  Archbishop's  Reply— Joachim 
of  Brandenburg. 

While  Luther  was  thus  making  preparation  for  one  of 
the  greatest  revolutions  which  was  to  be  effected  in  the 
Church,  and  while  the  Refonnation  was  beginning  to 
act  so  powerfully  on  tlie  state  of  society  in  Christen- 
dom, the  partisans  of  Rome,  blinded  as  those  usually 
are  who  have  long  been  in  possession  of  power,  ima- 
gined that  because  Luther  was  iu  the  Wartburg,  the 
Reformation  was  for  ever  dead  and  buried ;  and  that 
henceforth  they  would  be  able,  in  peace,  to  resume 
their  ancient  practices,  after  being  momentarily  dis- 


turbed by  the  monk  of  Wittemberg.  Albert,  the 
Archbishop-Elector  of  Mentz,  was  one  of  those  feeble 
spirits,  who,  when  all  things  are  equal,  are  in  favour 
of  truth ;  but  as  soon  as  their  interest  is  thrown  into 
the  balance,  are  ready  to  array  themselves  on  the  side 
of  error.  The  great  point  with  him  was,  that  his 
court  should  be  as  brilliant  as  that  of  any  prince  in 
Germany;  his  equipage  as  rich,  and  his  table  as  well 
supplied ;  and  to  this  end  the  traffic  in  indulgences 
contriI)uted  admirably.  Hence,  no  sooner  had  the 
decree  condemning  Luther  and  the  Reformation  issued 
from  the  imperial  chancery,  than  Albert,  who  was  then 
with  his  court  at  Halle,  assembled  the  indulgence  mer- 
chants, who  were  still  in  alarm  at  the  preaching  of  the 
reformer,  and  tried  to  eucourage  thcin  by  such  words 
as  these :  "  Fear  no  more ;  we  have  reduced  him  to 
silence  ;  let  us  again  begin  to  clip  the  flock  ;  the  monk 
is  captive ;  he  is  under  lock  and  key,  and  will  this 
time  be  dexterous  indeed  if  he  again  comes  to  disturb 
us."  The  market  was  opened  anew,  the  merchandise 
exhibited,  and  the  churches  of  ILalle  resoimded  once 
more  with  the  harangues  of  the  quacks. 

But  Luther  was  still  alive,  and  his  voice  was  power- 
ful enough  to  pierce  the  walls  and  bars  behind  which 
he  had  been  hid.  Nothing  could  inflame  his  indig- 
nation to  a  higher  degree.  What !  the  fiercest  battles 
have  been  fought ;  he  has  faced  all  dangers  ;  the  truth 
has  come  off  victorious ;  and  yet  men  dare  to  trample  it 
under  their  feet  as  if  it  had  been  vanquished !  .  .  . 
The  doctrine  which  has  already  once  overthrown  this 
criminal  traffic  will  again  be  heard.  '•  I  shall  have  no 
rest,"  wrote  he  to  Spalatin,  "  till  I  have  attacked  the 
idol  of  Mentz,  and  its  prostitutions  at  Halle. 

Luther  forthwith  set  to  work ;  he  gave  himself  little 
concern  about  the  inysteriousness  with  which  it  was 
sought  to  envelope  his  residence  in  the  Wartburg. 
Elijah  in  the  desert  forges  new  thunderbolts  against 
impious  Ahab.  On  the  1st  November,  he  finished  a 
tract  Against  the  New  Idol  of  Halle. 

The  archbishop  received  intelligence  of  Luther's 
design.  Apprehensive  and  frightened  at  the  thought, 
he,  about  the  middle  of  October,  sent  two  officials  of 
his  court — Capito  and  Auerbach — to  Wittemberg  to 
lay  the  storm.  "  It  is  necessary,"  said  they  to  Melanc- 
thon,  who  most  courteously  received  them, — "  it  is  ne- 
cessary for  Luther  to  moderate  his  impetuosity."  But 
Melancthon,  though  mild  himself,  was  not  one  of  those 
who  imagine  that  wisdom  consists  iu  ahvavs  yielding, 
always  equivocating,  always  holding  one's  peace.  "It 
is  God  himself  who  calls  him,"  replied  he;  "and  our 
age  stands  in  need  of  an  acrid  and  pungent  salt." 
Capito  then  turned  to  Jonas,  and  endeavoured  through 
him  to  act  upon  the  court,  at  which  intelligence  of 
Luther's  design  had  already  arrived,  and  produced  the 
greatest  consternation.  "What!"  said  the  courtiers, 
"  revive  the  flames  which  there  has  been  so  much 
difficulty  in  extinguishing !  Luther  can  only  be  saved 
by  allowing  himself  to  be  forgotten  ;  and  here  he  is 
setting  himself  in  opposition  to  the  first  prince  of  the 
empire."  "I  wont  allow  Luther,"  said  the  elector, 
"  to  write  against  the  Archbishop  of  Mentz,  and  there- 
by disturb  the  public  peace." 

Luther  felt  indignant  when  these  words  were  re- 
ported to  him.     It  is  not  enough  to  imprison  his  body; 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


they  must  also  chain  his  mind,  and  truth  herself. 
Do  they  imagine  that  he  conceals  himself  from  fear, 
and  that  his  retii-emeut  is  an  acknowledgment  of  de- 
feat? He,  on  the  contrary,  maintains  that  it  is  a 
victory.  Who,  then,  at  Worms,  dared  to  rise  up 
against  him  and  to  contradict  the  truth  ?  Accordingly, 
when  the  prisoner  of  the  Wartburg  had  read  the  chap- 
lain's letter,  which  made  him  aware  of  the  prince's 
sentiments,  he  threw  it  from  him,  determined  not  to 
reply  to  it.  But  he  could  not  long  refrain,  and  he 
again  lifted  the  letter.  "  Tlie  elector  will  not  permit ! " 
.  .  .  wrote  he  to  Spalatin  ;  "  and  I  will  not  suffer 
the  elector  not  to  permit  me  to  write.  .  .  .  Sooner 
ruin  you  for  ever — ^}-ou,  the  elector — the  whole  world. 
If  I  have  resisted  the  pope,  who  is  the  creature  of  your 
cardinal,  why  should  I  yield  to  his  creature?  It  is 
really  good  to  hear  you  say,  that  the  public  peace  must 
not  be  disturbed,  while  you  aUow  others  to  disturb  the 
eternal  peace  of  God.  It  will  not  be  so,  O  prince.  I 
send  you  a  tract  which  I  had  already  prepared  against 
the  cardinal  before  I  received  your  letter.  Hand  it 
to  Jlelancthon."     ,     .     . 

The  perusal  of  this  manuscript  made  Spalatin  tremble. 
He  again  represented  to  the  reformer  how  imprudent 
it  would  be  to  publish  a  work  which  would  compel  the 
imperial  government  to  lay  aside  its  apparent  ignorance 
of  Luther's  fate,  and  to  punish  a  prisoner  who  dared 
to  attack  the  first  prince  of  the  empire  and  the  Chm-ch. 
If  Luther  persisted  in  this  design,  peace  was  again  dis- 
turbed, and  the  Reformation  perhaps  lost.  Luther 
consented  to  delay  the  publication  of  his  treatise ;  he 
even  allowed  Melancthon  to  erase  the  strongest  pas- 
sages. But  indignant  at  the  timidity  of  his  friend,  he 
wrote  to  the  chaplain  :  "  He  lives,  He  reigns — the  Lord 
in  whom  you  court  folks  believe  not,  at  least  if  He 
does  not  so  accommodate  His  works  to  your  reason, 
that  there  is  no  longer  occasion  to  believe  anything." 
He  forthwith  resolved  on  writing  du-ectly  to  the  elector- 
cardinal. 

It  is  the  whole  episcopate  that  Luther  brings  to  his 
bar  in  the  person  of  the  primate  of  Gei-many.  His 
words  arc  those  of  an  intrepid  man,  burning  with  zeal 
for  the  truth,  and  under  a  consciousness  of  speaking  in 
the  name  of  God  himself. 

Writing  from  the  depth  of  the  retreat  in  which  he 
was  concealed,  he  says :  "  Your  electoral  highness  has 
again  set  up  in  Halle  the  idol  which  devours  the  silver 
and  the  souls  of  poor  Christians.  Y''ou  think,  perhaps, 
that  I  am  off  the  field,  and  that  his  imperial  majesty 
will  easily  stifle  the  cries  of  the  poor  monk.  .  .  . 
But  know  that  I  will  discharge  the  duty  which  Chris- 
tian charity  imposes  on  me,  without  fearing  the  gates 
of  hell ;  and  a  fortiori,  without  fearing  the  pope,  bishops, 
and  cardinals. 

"  Wherefore,  my  most  humble  prayer  is,  that  your 
royal  highness  will  call  to  mind  the  commencement  of 
this  affair,  and  how  one  small  spark  produced  a  fear- 
ful conflagration.  Then,  also,  the  whole  world  felt 
secm-e.  The  thought  was — the  poor  mendicant  who  is 
disposed,  single-handed,  to  attack  the  pope,  is  too  feeble 
for  such  a  work.  But  God  interposed,  and  has  given 
the  pope  more  toil  and  anxiety  than  he  ever  had  since 
he  seated  himself  in  the  temple  of  God,  to  domineer 
over  the  Church.     The  same  God  still  lives — let  no  man 


doubt  it.  He  knows  how  to  withstand  a  cardinal  of 
Mentz,  were  he  even  supported  by  four  emperors ;  for 
He  loves,  above  all  things,  to  bow  down  the  lofty  cedars 
and  humble  proud  Pharaohs. 

"Wherefore,  I  hereby  give  your  highness  to  wit, 
that  if  the  idol  is  not  cast  down,  I  must,  in  obedience 
to  the  command  of  God,  publicly  attack  your  highness, 
as  I  have  attacked  the  pope  himself.  Let  yoiu*  high- 
ness act  upon  this  notice ;  I  expect  a  prompt  and  good 
answer  within  a  fortnight.  Given  in  my  desert,  Sunday 
after  St.  Catherine's  day,  1521,  by  your  electoral  high- 
ness's  humble  and  devoted,  Martin  Ldthee." 

This  letter  was  sent  to  AYittemberg,  and  from  Wit- 
temberg  to  Halle,  where  the  cardinal-elector  then 
resided  ;  no  attempt  was  made  to  stop  it  in  its  course, 
as  it  was  foreseen  what  a  storm  such  an  audacious  pro- 
ceeding would  have  called  forth.  But  Melancthon 
accompanied  it  with  a  letter  to  the  prudent  Capito, 
with  a  view  to  bring  this  difficult  affair  to  a  good  ter- 
mination. 

We  cannot  say  what  were  the  feelings  of  the  young 
and  feeble  archbishop  on  receiving  the  reformer's  let- 
ter. The  tract  announced  Against  the  Idol  of  Halle,  was 
like  a  sword  suspended  over  his  head.  At  the  same 
time,  what  rage  must  have  been  kindled  in  his  heart 
by  the  insolence  of  this  peasant's  son,  this  excommuni- 
cated monk,  who  dared  to  hold  such  language  to  a 
prince  of  the  house  of  Brandenburg,  the  primate  of  the 
German  Church !  Capito  implored  the  archbishop  to 
satisfy  the  monk.  Terror,  pride,  conscience,  whose 
voice  he  could  not  stifle,  produced  a  fearful  struggle 
in  Albert's  soul.  At  length,  dread  of  the  tract,  and  it 
may  be  also  remorse,  carried  the  day.  He  humbled 
himself,  and  gathered  together  whatever  he  thought 
fitted  to  appease  the  man  of  the  Wartburg :  scarcely 
had  the  fortnight  elapsed,  when  Luther  received  the 
following  letter,  which  is  still  more  astonishing  than 
his  formidable  epistle  : — 

"  My  dear  Doctor, — I  have  received  and  read  your 
letter,  and  taken  it  in  good  part.  But  I  believe  that 
for  a  long  time  the  motive  which  led  you  to  write  me 
such  a  letter  has  not  existed.  I  wish,  with  God's 
help,  to  conduct  myself  as  a  pious  bishop  and  a  Chris- 
tian prince,  and  I  acknowledge  that  I  stand  in  need  of 
the  grace  of  God.  I  deny  not  that  I  am  a  sinful  man, 
one  who  may  sin  and  be  mistaken,  one  even  who  sins 
and  is  mistaken  every  day.  I  know  well,  that  without 
the  grace  of  God  I  am  useless  and  filthy  mire,  like  other 
men,  if  not  more  so.  In  reply  to  your  letter,  I  did  not 
wish  to  conceal  from  you  this  gracious  disposition ;  for, 
from  the  love  of  Christ,  I  am  more  than  desirous  to 
shew  you  all  sorts  of  kindness  and  favour.  I  know 
how  to  receive  a  Christian  and  fraternal  reprimand. 

"With  my  own  hand,  Albert." 

Such  was  the  language  held  to  the  excommunicated 
of  the  Wartbiu-g  by  the  Elector-archbishop  of  Mentz 
and  Magdebourg,  whose  office  it  was  to  represent  and 
maintain  in  Germany  the  constitution  of  the  Church. 
Had  Albert,  in  writing  it,  obeyed  the  generous  inspira- 
tions of  his  conscience,  or  his  servile  fears?  In  the 
former  view,  this  letter  is  noble ;  in  the  latter,  it  deserves 
contempt.  We  prefer  supposing  that  it  proceeded  from 
a  good  emotion  in  his  heart.  Be  this  as  it  may,  it 
shews  the  immense  superiority  of  the  servant  of  God 


r^r-.f^^ 


TRANSLATION  OF  THE  BIBLE. 


over  earthly  graudeur.  While  Luther,  single,  captive, 
and  condemned,  found  indomitable  courage  in  his 
faith,  the  archbishop  cardinal-elector,  surrounded  by 
all  the  power  and  favour  of  the  world,  trembled  in  his 
chair.  This  contrast  is  constantly  displayed,  and  it 
furnishes  a  key  to  the  strange  enigma  with  which  we 
arc  presented  in  the  history  of  the  Reformation.  The 
CMirislirtii  is  not  called  to  sum  up  his  forces,  and  make 
an  enumeration  of  his  means  of  victory.  The  only 
thing  which  ought  to  give  him  any  concern  is,  whether 
the  cause  which  he  maintains  is,  indeed,  that  of  God  ; 
and  whether  his  sole  aim  is  the  glory  of  his  Master, 
lie  has,  doubtless,  an  examination  to  make,  but  it  is 
wholly  spiritual;  the  Christian  looks  to  the  heart,  and 
not  to  the  arm ;  to  the  justice  of  the  cause,  and  not  to 
its  strength.  And  when  once  this  question  is  decided, 
his  path  is  marked  out.  He  must  advance  boldly,  even 
should  it  be  against  the  world  and  all  its  hosts,  in  the 
unwavering  conviction  that  God  himself  w^ll  fight  for 
him. 

The  enemies  of  the  Reformation  thus  passed  from 
extreme  rigour  to  extreme  feebleness.  They  had  al- 
ready done  so  at  "Worms,  and  these  abrupt  transitions 
arc  ever  appearing  in  the  war  which  error  makes  upon 
truth.  Every  cause  destined  to  give  way  is  affected 
with  an  inward  dissatisfaction,  which  makes  it  vacil- 
lating and  dubious,  and  pushes  it  by  turns  from  one 
extreme  to  the  other.  Far  better  were  consistency 
and  energy.  It  might  be,  that  thereby  the  fall  would 
be  ])recipitated ;  but  at  all  events  when  it  did  come  it 
would  come  gloriously. 

The  Elector  of  Brandenburg,  Joachim  I.,  a  brother 
of  Albert,  gave  an  example  of  this  decision  of  charac- 
ter which  is  so  rare,  especially  in  our  own  age.  Im- 
moveable in  his  principles,  firm  in  his  actions,  knowing 
when  necessary  to  resist  the  will  of  the  pope,  he  op- 
posed an  iron  hand  to  the  progress  of  the  Reformation. 
At  Worms  he  had  insisted  that  Luther  should  not  be 
heard,  and  even  that  he  should  be  punished  as  a  heretic, 
notwithstanding  of  his  safe-conduct.  No  sooner  was  the 
edict  of  "Worms  issued  than  he  ordered  it  to  be  rigor- 
ously executed  in  all  his  states.  Luther  was  able  to 
estimate  a  character  thus  energetic,  and  distinguishing 
Joachim  from  his  other  opponents,  said  :  "  "We  can  still 
pray  for  the  Elector  of  Brandenburg."  The  spirit  of 
the  prince  seemed  to  have  been  communicated  to  his 
subjects.  Berlin  and  Brandenburg  long  remained  com- 
pletely closed  against  the  Reformation.  But  what  was 
received  slowly  was  kept  faithfully,  while  countries 
which  then  received  the  Gospel  with  joy — Belgium, 
for  instance,  and  AYestphalia — were  soon  to  abandon 
it.  Brandenburg,  the  last  of  the  German  states  to 
enter  on  the  i)aths  of  faith,  was,  at  a  later  period,  to 
take  its  place  in  the  foremost  ranks  of  the  Reformation. 

Luther  did  not  receive  the  letter  of  the  cardinal- 
archbishop  without  some  suspicion  of  its  having  been 
dictated  by  hypocrisy,  or  in  compliance  with  the  coun- 
sels of  Capito.  He  was  silent,  however,  contenting 
himself  with  a  declaration  to  the  latter,  that  so  long  as 
the  archbishop,  who  wiis  scarcely  capable  of  managing 
a  small  parish,  would  not  lay  aside  the  mask  of  the 
cardinalate  and  pomp  of  the  episcopate,  and  become  a 
simple  minister  of  the  Word,  it  was  impossible  he  could 
be  in  the  way  of  salvation. 


CHAPTER  V. 

Translation  of  the  Bible— Wants  of  the  Church— Principles  of  thtt  Reforma- 
tinii— Alarm  at  Court — Luther  to  the  Archbishop— Temptations  of  the 
Devil — ConUcinuation  of  the  Sorbonnc — Melancthon's  Reply — Visit  to 
Wiltemberg. 

WniLE  Luther  was  thus  combating  error,  as  if  ho  had 
still  been  upon  the  field  of  battle,  ho  was  at  work  in 
his  retreat  as  if  he  were  a  stranger  to  everything  that 
was  taking  place  in  the  world.  The  moment  had 
arrived  when  the  Reformation  was  to  pass  from  the 
speculations  of  theologians  into  common  life ;  and  yet 
the  great  instrument  by  which  this  transaction  was  to 
be  effected  was  not  yet  in  existence.  This  wondrous 
and  mighty  engine,  destined  to  assail  the  edifice  of 
Rome  from  all  quarters,  with  bolts  which  would  de- 
molish its  walls,  to  lift  off  the  enormous  weight  under 
which  the  papacy  held  down  the  half-suffocated  Church, 
and  give  to  humanity  itself  an  impulse  which  it  should 
retain  to  the  latest  ages,  was  to  come  forth  from  the 
old  castle  of  the  Wartburg,  and  enter  the  world  with 
the  reformer  the  very  day  when  his  captivity  should 
temiinate. 

The  farther  the  Church  was  removed  from  the 
period  when  Jesus  Christ,  the  true  Light  of  the  world, 
dwelt  in  it,  the  more  need  she  had  of  the  lamp  of  the 
Word  of  God,  which  was  to  transmit  the  brightness  of 
Jesus  Christ  unimpaired  to  the  latest  ages.  But  this 
Divine  Word  was  then  unknown  to  the  people.  At- 
tempts at  translation — from  the  Vulgate  in  1477, 1490, 
and  1518 — had  succeeded  ill,  were  almost  unintelligible, 
and,  from  their  high  price,  beyond  the  reach  of  the 
people.  It  had  even  been  prohibited  to  give  the  Bible 
to  the  Germanic  Church  in  the  vulgar  tongue.  Be- 
sides, the  number  of  those  able  to  read  was  inconsider- 
able, so  long  as  there  was  no  work  in  the  German 
tongue  of  deep  and  universal  interest. 

Luther  was  called  to  give  the  Scriptures  to  his 
country,  Italy.  The  same  God  who  withdrew  St. 
John  to  Patmos,  there  to  write  His  Revelation,  had 
shut  up  Luther  in  the  Wartburg  to  translate  His 
Word.  This  great  work,  which  it  would  have  been 
difficult  for  him  to  undertake  amid  the  distractions  and 
occupations  of  Wittemberg,  was  destined  to  establish 
the  new  edifice  on  the  primitive  rock,  and  bring  back 
Christians,  after  so  many  ages  of  scholastic  subtleties, 
to  the  pure  and  primary  source  of  redemption  and 
salvation. 

The  wants  of  the  Church  pleaded  strongly;  they 
demanded  this  great  work ;  and  Luther  was  to  be 
trained  by  his  own  deep  experience  for  the  perform- 
ance of  it.  In  fact,  he  had  found  in  faith  that 
spiritual  repose  which  his  agitated  conscience  and 
monastic  ideas  had  long  made  him  seek  in  his  own 
merit  and  holiness.  The  doctrine  of  the  Church — viz., 
scholastic  theology,  knew  nothing  of  the  consolations 
which  faith  gives ;  but  these  were  forcibly  announced 
in  Scripture,  and  there  he  found  them.  Faith  in  the 
Word  of  God  had  made  him  free.  By  means  of  it  he 
felt  himself  emancipated  from  the  dogmatical  authority 
of  the  Church,  its  hierarchy,  its  traditions,  scholastic 
opinions,  powerful  prejudices,  and  all  tyranny  of  man. 


2G6 


HISTORY  OF  THE  EEFOKMATION. 


The  numerous  and  powerful  links  -which  had  for  ages 
chained  and  bound  Christendom,  were  broken,  de- 
stroyed, and  scattered  in  fragments  around  him ;  and 
he  nobly  raised  his  head,  free  of  everything  save  the 
Word.  This  independence  of  men,  this  submission  to 
God,  which  he  had  learned  in  the  Holy  Scriptures,  he 
wished  the  Church  to  possess.  But  in  order  to  accom- 
plish this,  it  was  necessary  to  give  her  back  the  reve- 
lation of  God.  It  was  necessary  that  a  mighty  hand 
should  throw  back  the  ponderous  gates  of  that  arsenal 
of  the  Word  of  God  in  which  Luther  himself  had 
found  his  armour,  aud  that  those  vaults  and  ancient 
halls  which  no  foot  had  traversed  for  ages,  should  be 
again  opened  wide  to  the  Christian  people  for  the 
day  of  battle. 

Luther  had  already  translated  different  portions  of 
the  Holy  Scriptures :  the  seven  penitential  Psalms  had 
been  his  first  labour.  Jesus  Christ,  John  Baptist,  and 
the  Reformation,  alike  began  with  the  doctrine  of  re- 
pentance, which  is  the  beginning  of  renovation  iu  the 
individual  and  iu  the  race.  These  essays  had  been 
received  with  avidity ;  all  wished  for  more  ;  and  this 
call  from  the  people  was  to  Luther  a  call  from 
God  himself.  He  formed  the  design  of  responding  to 
it.  He  was  a  captive  behind  high  walls.  True  !  He 
will  employ  his  leisure  in  transferring  the  Word  of 
God  into  the  language  of  his  peojjle.  This  Word  will 
shortly  descend  with  him  from  the  Wartburg ;  it  will 
circulate  among  the  population  of  Germany,  and  put 
them  in  possession  of  spiritual  treasures — treasures 
like  them  shut  up  within  the  hearts  of  a  few  pious 
men.  '"Let  this  single  book,"  exclaims  he,  "be  in  all 
tongues,  in  all  hands,  before  all  eyes,  in  all  ears,  and 
in  all  hearts."  Admirable  words!  which  a  distin- 
guished society  for  translating  the  Bible  into  the 
languages  of  all  nations,  is  now,  after  tliree  centuries, 
engaged  in  carrying  into  effect.  "The  Scripture, 
without  any  commentary,"  says  he  on  another  occa- 
sion, "is  the  sun  from  which  aU  teachers  receive 
light." 

Such  are  the  principles  of  Christianity  and  of  the 
Keformation.  According  to  those  venerable  words,  we 
are  not  to  take  the  Fathers  in  order  to  throw  light  on 
Scripture,  but  Scripture  to  throw  light  on  the  Fathers. 
The  reformers  and  the  apostles  held  up  the  Word  of 
God  alone  for  light,  just  as  they  hold  up  the  sacrifice 
of  Christ  alone  for  righteousness.  To  attempt  to  mix 
up  human  authority  with  this  absolute  authority  of 
God,  or  human  righteousness  with  this  perfect  righ- 
teousness of  Christ,  is  to  corrupt  Christianity  in  its  two 
foundations.  Such  are  the  two  fundamental  heresis 
of  Rome,  heresis,  moreover,  which  some  teachers  would 
fain  introduce,  though,  doubtless,  iu  a  modified  form, 
into  the  bosom  of  the  Reformation. 

Luther  opened  the  Greek  test  of  the  evangelists  and 
apostles,  and  undertook  the  difiicult  task  of  making 
these  inspired  teachers  speak  his  mother  tongue, — an 
important  epoch  iu  the  history  of  the  Reformation, 
which  was  thenceforth  no  longer  in  the  hand  of  the 
reformer.  The  Bible  came  forward ;  Luther  drew 
back ;  God  shewed  himself,  and  man  disappeared. 
The  reformer  has  placed  the  book  in  the  hands  of  his 
contemporaries.  Every  one  can  now  listen  to  God 
himself.     As  for  Luther,  he  from  this  time  mingles 


in  the  crowd,  and  takes  his  place  among  those  who 
come  to  draw  at  the  common  fountain  of  light  and 
life. 

In  the  translation  of  the  Holy  Scriptures  Luther 
found,  in  abundance,  that  consolation  and  strength 
which  were  most  necessary  to  him.  Sick,  isolated, 
saddened  by  the  efforts  of  his  enemies,  and  the  errors 
of  some  of  his  partisans,  seeing  his  life  wasting  away 
in  the  gloom  of  this  old  castle,  he  had  many  fearful 
combats  to  maintain.  In  those  times  there  was  an 
inclination  to  transfer  to  the  visible  world  the  struggles 
which  the  soul  maintains  with  its  spiritual  foes.  The 
lively  imagination  of  Luther  easily  gave  a  bodily  shape 
to  the  emotions  of  his  heart ;  while  the  superstition  of 
the  Middle  Ages  had  still  some  hold  upon  his  intellect, 
so  that  in  this  respect  it  may  be  said  of  him,  as  has 
been  said  of  Calvin  in  the  punishment  of  heretics — he 
had  a  remnant  of  popery.'  In  Luther's  idea,  Satan 
was  not  merely  an  invisible,  though  real  being:  he 
thought  that  this  enemy  of  God  appeared  to  man  as  he 
had  appeared  to  Jesus  Christ.  Although  the  authen- 
ticity of  several  of  the  accounts  given  on  this  subject 
in  the  "  Table  Talk "  and  elsewhere,  is  more  than 
doubtful,  the  historian  is  bound  to  point  out  this  foible 
in  the  reformer.  Never  did  these  dark  ideas  assail 
him  more  than  in  the  solitude  of  the  Wartburg.  He 
had  defied  the  devil  at  Worms  in  the  days  of  his 
strength;  but  now  all  the  power  of  the  reformer 
seemed  broken,  and  his  glory  tarnished.  He  Wiis 
thrown  aside.  Satan  was  victorious  in  his  turn,  aud 
Luther,  in  the  anguish  of  his  spirit,  thought  he  saw 
him  raising  his  gigantic  figure  before  him,  pointing  his 
threatening  finger,  triumphing  with  bitter  and  in- 
fernal leer,  and  gnashing  his  teeth  in  frightful  rage. 
One  day  among  others,  it  is  said,  when  Luther  was 
working  at  his  translation  of  the  New  Testament,  lie 
thought  he  saw  Satan,  who,  di-eadfuUy  terrified  at  this 
work,  kept  teazing  him,  and  turning  round  and  round 
him  like  a  liou  about  to  pounce  upon  his  prey.  Luther, 
frightened  and  irritated,  seized  his  inkstand,  aud  threw 
it  at  the  head  of  his  enemy.  The  figiu-e  vanished,  and 
the  inkstand  struck  against  the  wall." 

Luther's  residence  in  the  Wartburg  began  to  be  in- 
supportable. He  felt  indignant  at  the  pusillanimity  of 
his  protectors.  Sometimes  he  remained  a  whole  day 
absorbed  in  silent  and  profound  meditation,  and  came 
out  of  it  only  to  exclaim  :  "  Oh  that  I  were  at  Wittem- 
berg!"  At  length  he  could  hold  out  no  longer;  there 
has  been  enough  of  political  management ;  ho  must  sec 
his  friends  again, — hear  them  and  speak  to  them. 
True  1  he  runs  the  risk  of  falling  into  the  hands  of  his 
enemies  ;  but  nothing  can  stop  him.  Towards  the  end 
of  November,  ho  secretly  quits  the  AYartburg,  and  sets 
out  for  Witteraberg. 

A  new  storm  had  just  burst  upon  him.  Tiic  Sor- 
bonne  had  at  length  broken  silence.  This  celebrated 
school  of  Paris,  the  first  authority  in  the  Church  after 
the  pope,  the  ancient  and  venerable  fountain  whence 
theological  dogmas  had  sprung,  had  just  issued  its 
verdict  agaiust  the  Reformation. 

1  JI.  Michelet,  in  his  "  Mdmoires  de  Luther,"  devotes  more  than  thiity 
pages  to  different  accounts  of  the  apparition  of  the  devil. 

2  Tlie  lieeper  of  tlie  Wartburg  is  stiU  careful  to  shew  the  traveller  tlie 
mark  made  by  Luther's  iukstauiL 


LUTHER  VISITS  WITTEI^IBERG. 


The  following  arc  some  of  the  propositions  which  it 
condemned.  Luther  had  said :  "  God  always  pardons 
and  remits  sins  gratuitously,  and  asks  nothing  of  us  in 
return,  but  only  to  live  in  future  according  to  His 
will."  lie  had  added:  "Of  all  mortal  sins  the  most 
mortal  is  this,  for  any  one  to  believe  that  he  is  not 
gudty  before  God  of  mortal  and  damnable  sin."  lie 
had  further  said:  "To  burn  heretics  is  contrary  to  the 
will  of  the  Holy  Spirit." 

To  all  these  propositions,  and  many  others  which 
were  quoted,  the  faculty  of  theology  replied:  "Heresy! 
anathema ! " 

But  a  young  man  of  twenty-four,  of  small  statin-e, 
modest,  and  unostentatious,  dared  to  take  up  the 
gauntlet  which  had  been  thrown  down  by  the  first 
sciiool  in  tlie  world.  It  w\as  well  known  at  AVittem- 
bcrg  what  view  ought  to  be  taken  of  these  pompous 
condemnations ;  it  was  known  that  Rome  had  yielded 
to  the  suggestion  of  the  Dominicans ;  and  that  the 
Sorbonne  was  dragged  along  by  two  or  three  fanatical 
doctors,  who  were  designated  at  Paris  by  derisive 
nicknames.  Accordingly,  Melancthon,  in  his  apology, 
did  not  confine  himself  to  the  defence  of  Luther,  but 
with  the  boldness  which  characterizes  his  writings, 
carried  the  assault  into  the  camp  of  his  adversaries. 
"You  say  he  is  a  Manichean! — a  Montanist! — let  fire 
and  ilame  repress  his  folly!  Which,  pr.ay,  is  Montanist? 
Luther,  who  wishes  men  to  believe  in  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures, or  yourselves,  who  will  have  thorn  to  believe  the 
views  of  men  rather  than  the  Word  of  God." 

To  attribute  more  to  man's  word  than  to  the  Word 
of  God,  was  in  fact  the  heresy  of  Montaucs,  as  it  is 
still  that  of  the  pope,  and  of  all  those  who  set  the 
hierarchical  authority  of  the  Church,  or  the  internal 
inspiration  of  mysticism,  above  the  positive  declaration 
of  the  Sacred  Writings.  Accordingly,  the  young  mas- 
tor  of  arts,  who  had  said :  "  I  will  lose  my  life  sooner 
than  my  faith,"  did  not  stop  there.  He  accused  the 
Sorbonne  of  having  obscured  the  Gospel,  extingnished 
faith,  and  substituted  a  vain  philosophy  for  Christianity. 
After  the  work  of  Melancthon,  the  position  of  the 
question  was  changed ;  he  proved  to  demonstration 
that  heresy  was  at  Paris  and  Rome,  and  catholic  truth 
at  Wittemberg. 

Meanwhile  Luther,  giving  himself  little  concern  with 
the  condemnation  of  the  Sorbonne,  repaired  in  his 
knight's  dress  to  the  university  seat.  On  the  way 
difl'crent  reports  reached  him,  that  a  spirit  of  impatience 
and  independence  was  manifesting  itself  among  his 
adherents,  and  he  was  grieved  to  the  heart.  At  length 
he  arrived  at  Wittemberg  without  having  been  recog- 
nised, and  stopped  at  the  house  of  Amsdorff.  Fortli- 
with  all  his  friends  were  secretly  summoned,  Melancthon 
especially,  who  had  often  said:  "If  I  must  be  deprived 
of  him  I  prefer  death."  On  their  arrival,  what  a 
meeting ! — what  joy  !  The  captive  of  the  Wartburg, 
seated  amidst  them,  enjoys  all  the  sweets  of  Cliristiau 
friendship.  He  learns  the  progress  of  the  Reformation, 
and  the  hopes  of  his  brethren;  and  overjoyed  at  what 
he  sees  and  heai-s,  prays,  gives  thanks,  and  then,  after 
a  short  delay,  returns  to  the  Wartburg. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

New  Reforms— Gabriel  ZwiUing  on  the  Mass— The  Uuivcrsity— The  Elector 
— Moiiaeliism  attacked— Emancipation  of  tlio  Monks— Disturbances— 
Cliaptir  of  tlie  Augustincs- Tlio  Mass  .mil  Carlstadt— First  SupiKT— 
Iinportance  of  the  Mass  in  tbe  Roman  System. 

Li.TUEis's  joy  was  well  founded — the  Reformation  was 
then  advancing  at  an  immense  pace.  Feldkirclien, 
alwaj's  in  the  advanced  guard,  had  first  mounted  to 
the  assault:  the  main  body  was  now  shaken,  and  the 
power  which  carried  the  Reformation  from  doctrine 
which  it  had  purified,  into  worship,  common  life,  and 
the  constitution  of  tlic  Church,  now  manifested  itself 
by  a  new  explosion,  still  more  formidable  to  the  papacy 
than  the  former  had  been. 

Rome,  disencumbered  of  the  Reformer,  thought  she 
had  done  with  heresy.  But  in  a  short  time  all  was 
changed.  Death  precipated  the  man  who  had  laid 
Luther  under  interdict  from  the  pontifical  throne. 
Disturbances  arising  in  Spain,  obliged  Charles  V.  to 
repair  beyond  the  Pyrenees.  AVar  broke  out  between 
this  prince  and  Francis  I.,  and,  as  if  this  had  not  been 
enough  to  occupy  the  emperor,  vSolyman  advanced  into 
Hungary.  Charles,  attacked  on  all  sides,  saw  himself 
constrained  to  forget  the  monk  at  Worms,  and  his 
religious  innovations. 

About  the  same  time  the  vessel  of  the  Reformation, 
which,  driven  in  all  directions  by  contrary  winds,  had 
wellnigh  foundered,  righted,  and  floated  fir-mly  on  the 
waves. 

It  was  in  the  Augustine  convent  of  Wittemberg  that 
the  Reformation  broke  out.  We  must  not  be  surprised 
at  this:  the  Reformer  was  no  longer  there;  but  no 
power  could  banish  the  spirit  which  had  animated 
him. 

For  some  time  the  church  in  which  Luther  so  of- 
ten preached  had  resounded  with  strange  doctrines. 
Gabriel  Zwilling,  the  preacher  of  the  convent,  a  monk 
full  of  zeal,  preached  with  ardour  in  favour  of  the 
Reformation.  As  if  Luther,  whose  name  was  every- 
where proclaimed,  had  become  too  powerful  and  too 
illustrious,  God  selected  feeble  and  obscure  individuals 
to  commence  the  Reformation  which  Luther  had  pre- 
pared. "  Jesus  Christ,"  said  the  preacher,  "  instituted 
the  sacrament  of  the  altar  as  a  memorial  of  His  death, 
not  to  make  it  an  object  of  adoration.  To  adore  it  is 
real  idolatry.  The  priest  who  communicates  alone, 
commits  a  sin.  No  prior  is  entitled  to  compel  a  monk 
to  say  mass  alone.  Let  one,  two,  or  three  officiate, 
and  let  all  the  others  receive  the  sacrament  in  both 
kinds." 

Such  was  the  demand  of  Friar  Gabriel,  and  these 
bold  words  were  listened  to  with  approbation  by  the 
other  friars,  especially  by  those  who  came  from  the 
Low  Countries.  Being  disciples  of  the  Gospel,  why 
should  they  not  in  everything  conform  themselves  to 
its  commands?  Had  not  Luther  himself,  in  the  month 
of  August,  written  to  Melancthon:  "Never  more  from 
this  time  will  I  say  a  private  mass  1"  Thus  the  monks, 
those  soldiers  of  the  hierarchy,  set  free  by  the  Word 
of  God,  boldly  took  part  against  Rome. 

At  Wittemberg  they  expcrieaced  an  obstinate  resist- 


268 


THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  EEFOEMATION. 


ance  on  the  part  of  the  prior.  Eecollectiug  that  all 
things  ought  to  be  done  in  order,  they  yielded,  still 
declaring  that  to  maintain  the  mass  Avas  to  oppose  the 
Gospel  of  God. 

The  prior  had  carried  the  day:  one  had  proved 
stronger  than  all.  It  might  therefoi-e  be  supposed  that 
the  movement  of  the  Augustines  had  only  been  one  of 
those  freaks  of  insubordination  of  which  convents  were 
so  often  the  theatre.  But  it  was  in  reality  the  Spirit 
of  God  that  was  then  agitating  Christendom.  An 
isolated  cry  sent  forth  from  the  recess  of  a  monastery 
found  a  thousand  echoing  voices;  and  that  which  it 
was  wished  to  keep  confined  within  the  walls  of  a 
convent,  came  forth  and  assumed  a  distinct  shape  in 
the  very  heart  of  the  city. 


LA     SORBONNE,     PARIS 

A  rumour  of  the  dissensions  of  the  monks  was  soou 
noised  in  the  town.  The  citizens  and  students  of  the 
University  took  part  either  for  or  against  the  mass. 
The  electoral  court  was  alarmed.  Frederick,  in  aston- 
ishment, sent  his  chancellor  Pontanus  to  Wittemberg, 
with  orders  to  tame  the  monks,  by  putting  them,  if 
necessary,  on  bread  and  water;  and  on  the  12th 
October,  at  seven  in  tlie  morning,  a  deputation  of  pro- 
fesssors,  of  whom  Molancthou  was  one,  repaired  to  the 
convent  to  exhort  the  monks  not  to  make  any  innova- 
tion, or  at  least  to  wait.  On  this  all  their  zeal  revived  : 
unanimous  in  their  belief,  with  the  exception  of  the 
prior,  who  combated  them,  they  appealed  to  the  Holy 
Scriptures,  to  the  intelligence  of  the  faithful,  and  the 
consciences  of  theologians,  and  two  days  after  returned 
a  written  declaration. 

The  teachers  now  examined  the  question  more 
closely,  and  perceived  that  truth  was  on  the  side  of 
the  monks.  They  went  to  convince,  but  were  them- 
selves convinced.  "What  were  they  to  do?  Their 
consciences  spake  aloud;  their  distress  continually  in- 


creased: at  last,  after  long  hesitation,  they  adopted  a 
bold  resolution. 

On  the  20th  October,  the  university  gave  in  their 
report  to  the  elector.  "  Let  your  electoral  highness," 
said  they  to  him,  after  exposing  the  errors  of  the  mass, 
— "  let  your  electoral  highness  abolish  all  abuses,  lest 
Christ,  on  the  day  of  judgment,  upbraid  us  as  He  once 
did  Capernaum." 

It  is  no  longer  some  obscure  monks  who  speak;  but 
that  university  which  all  sober  men  have  hailed  for 
years  as  the  national  school.  The  very  means  employed 
to  stifle  the  Reformation  are  going  to  contribute  to  its 
extension. 

Melancthon,  with  the  boldness  which  he  shewed  in 
speculation,  published  fifty-five  propositions  with  a 
view  to  enlighten  the  public  mind. 

"Just,"  says  he,  "as  to  look  at  a  crucifix  is  not  to 
do  a  good  work,  but  simply  to  contemplate  a  sign 
which  reminds  us  of  the  death  of  Christ. 

"  As  to  look  at  the  sun  is  not  to  do  a  good  work, 
but  simply  to  contemplate  a  sign  which  reminds  us  of 
Christ  and  His  Gospel. 

"  So  to  partake  of  the  table  of  the  Lord,  is  not  to  do 
a  good  work,  but  simply  to  make  use  of  a  sign  which 
reminds  us  of  the  grace  given  us  by  Christ. 

"But  herein  is  the  difierence:  the  symbols  invented 
by  men  simply  recall  what  they  signijfy,  whereas  the     ! 
signs  given  by  God  not  only  recall  the  things,  but  also 
make  the  heart  sure  of  the  will  of  God. 

"As  the  sight  of  a  cross  does  not  justify,  so  the 
mass  does  not  justify. 

"  As  the  sight  of  a  cross  is  not  a  sacrifice  for  our 
own  sins  or  for  those  of  others,  so  the  mass  is  not  a 
sacrifice. 

"  There  is  only  one  sacrifice,  only  one  satisfaction — 
Jesus  Clu-ist.     Out  of  Him  there  is  none. 

"Let  the  bishops  who  do  not  oppose  the  impiety  of 
the  mass  be  anathema." 

Thus  spake  the  pious  and  gentle  Philip. 

The  elector  was  in  consternation.  His  wish  had 
been  to  repress  some  young  monks,  and,  lo !  all  the 
university,  with  Melancthon  himself,  rise  up  in  their 
defence.  To  wait  appeared  to  him  to  be  iu  all  things 
the  surest  means  of  success.  He  had  no  taste  for 
sudden  reforms,  and  wished  every  opinion  to  have  full 
opportunity  of  shewing  itself.  "Time,"  thought  he, 
"  throws  light  on  all  things,  and  brings  them  to  matur- 
ity." And  yet  the  Reformation  advances  in  spite  of 
him,  with  rapid  steps,  and  threatens  to  carry  everything 
along  with  it.  Frederick  used  all  his  efforts  to  arrest 
it.  His  authority,  the  weight  of  his  character,  the 
arguments  which  appeared  to  him  most  decisive — every- 
thing was  put  in  requisition.  He  sent  a  message  to 
the  theologians:  "Don't  be  in  a  haste;  you  are  too  few 
in  number  to  carry  out  such  a  reformation.  If  it  is 
founded  on  the  holy  Gospel,  others  will  perceive  it, 
and  the  whole  Chui'ch  will  concur  with  you  in  abolish- 
ing these  abuses.  Speak,  debate,  preach  as  much  on 
these  subjects  as  you  please;  but  preserve  ancient 
customs." 

Such  was  the  struggle  which  took  place  on  the 
subject  of  the  mass.  The  monks  had  gone  up  coura- 
geously to  the  assault;  the  theologians,  for  a  moment 
undecided,  had  soon  supported  them.     The  prince  and 


MONACHISM  ATTACKED. 


his  miuisters  alone  defended  the  place.  It  has  been 
said  that  the  Reformation  was  effected  by  the  power 
and  authority  of  the  elector;  but  so  far  from  this,  the 
assailants  were  obliged  to  retire  at  tlie  venerated  voice 
of  Frederick,  and  the  mass  was  saved  for  some  days. 

Jloreover,  the  hottest  of  the  assault  had  already 
been  directed  to  another  point.  Friar  Gabriel  con- 
tinned  his  fervid  harangues  in  the  chureli  of  the 
Angustiuos.  It  was  against  Monachism  itself  that  he 
now  directed  those  redoubled  blows.  If  the  mass  con- 
stituted tlie  strength  of  the  Romish  doctrine,  Mouacli- 
isni  constituted  the  strength  of  the  hierarchy.  Those, 
therefore,  M'orc  the  two  first  positions  which  required 
to  be  carried. 

'•  Nobody,"  exclaimed  Gabriel,  according  to  the  prior's 
account, — "  nobody  in  convents  observes  the  command- 
ments of  God ;  nobody  can  be  saved  under  the  monk's 
cowl ;  every  man  in  a  cloister  must  have  entered  it  in 
the  name  of  the  devil.  Vows  of  chastity,  poverty,  and 
obedience,  are  contrary  to  the  Gospel." 

These  strange  addresses  were  reported  to  the  prior, 
who  took  good  care  to  keep  away  from  the  church, 
that  he  might  not  hear  them. 

"  Gabriel,"  it  was  also  said,  "  wishes  eveiy  means  to 
be  taken  to  empty  cloisters."  If  monks  are  met  in  the 
street,  it  is  proper,  according  to  him,  to  pull  them  by 
the  frock,  and  point  the  finger  at  them  ;  and  if  mockery 
docs  not  succeed  in  making  them  quit  the  convent, 
they  must  be  violently  hunted  out  of  it.  "  Break  open, 
destroy,  throw  down  the  monasteries,"  said  he,  "so 
that  not  a  vestige  of  them  may  remain  ;  and  on  the  site 
which  they  have  so  long  occupied  let  it  be  impossible 
to  find  any  one  of  the  stones  which  served  to  shelter  so 
much  idleness  and  superstition." 

The  monks  were  astonished ;  their  consciences  told 
them  that  what  Gabriel  said  was  only  too  true, — that 
the  life  of  a  monk  was  not  conformable  to  the  will  of 
God,  and  that  none  was  enabled  to  dispose  of  them 
but  themselves. 

Thirteen  Augustines  left  the  convent  at  once,  and, 
laying  aside  the  di-ess  of  their  order,  assumed  common 
clothes.  Those  of  them  who  had  some  education  at- 
tended the  lectures  in  the  university,  that  they  might 
one  day  become  useful  to  the  Church  ;  and  those  whose 
minds  were  little  cultivated,  sought  to  gain  their  living 
by  working  with  their  own  hands,  according  to  the  in- 
junction of  the  apostle,  and  the  example  of  the  worthy 
biu"ghers  of  Wittemberg.  One  of  them,  who  was  ac- 
quainted with  the  trade  of  carpenter,  entered  with  the 
corporation,  and  resolved  to  marry. 

If  Luther's  entrance  into  the  convent  of  the  Augus- 
tines of  Erfurt  was  the  first  germ  of  the  Reformation, 
the  departure  of  these  thirteen  monks  from  tlie  convent 
of  the  Augustines  of  Wittemberg  was  a  sign  that  it  was 
beginning  to  take  possession  of  Christendom.  For 
thirty  years  Erasmus  had  been  exposing  the  uselessness, 
the  follies,  and  vices  of  the  monks ;  and  with  him  all 
Europe  had  laughed  or  felt  indignant.  But  it  was  no 
longer  au  affair  of  sarcasm.  Thirteen  spirited  and 
brave  men  again  appeared  in  the  midst  of  their  fellow- 
men  to  render  themselves  useful  to  society,  and  fulfil 
the  orders  of  God.  The  marriage  of  Fcldkirchen  had 
been  the  first  defeat  of  the  hierarchy — the  emancipa- 
tion  of   these   thirteen   Augustines   was   the  second. 


Monadiisni,  which  had  been  formed  the  moment  the 
Church  commenced  her  period  of  bondage  and  error, 
behoved  to  fall  the  moment  she  recovered  liberty  and 
truth. 

This  bold  proceeding  caused  a  general  fermentation 
in  Wittemberg.  Admiration  was  felt  for  the  men  who 
came  to  sliare  in  the  common  toils,  and  they  were  re- 
ceived as  brethren.  At  the  same  time  cries  were 
heard  against  those  who  persisted  in  remaining  idly  hid 
behind  the  walls  of  a  monastery.  The  monks  who 
adhered  to  the  prior  trembled  in  their  cells;  and  he, 
carried  away  by  the  universal  movement,  discontinued 
the  celebration  of  low  mass. 

The  smallest  concession  at  so  critical  a  moment  could 
not  but  hasten  the  progress  of  events.  This  order  by 
the  prior  caused  a  very  lively  sensation  in  the  town 
and  the  university,  and  produced  a  sudden  explosion. 
Among  the  students  and  citizens  of  Wittemberg  were 
some  turbulent  men,  whom  the  least  excitement  stirs 
up  and  hurries  into  culpable  disorders.  They  were  in- 
dignant at  the  idea  that  low  mass,  which  was  suspended 
even  by  the  superstitious  prior,  should  still  be  said  in 
the  parish  church  ;  and  on  Tuesday,  the  3d  December, 
when  mass  was  about  to  be  chanted,  they  made  a  sud- 
den rush  towards  the  altar,  carried  off  the  books,  and 
drove  away  the  priests.  The  council  and  the  univer- 
sity were  indignant,  and  met  to  punish  the  authors  of 
these  misdeeds.  But  the  passions,  when  once  roused, 
are  not  easily  calmed.  The  Cordeliers  had  not  taken 
part  in  the  reform  movement  of  the  Augustines.  The 
next  day  some  students  put  up  a  tlu-eatening  placard 
on  the  door  of  their  monastery;  thereafter,  forty  stu- 
dents entered  their  cliurch,  and,  without  proceeding  to 
actual  violence,  mocked  the  monks,  who,  in  conse- 
quence, did  not  venture  to  say  mass  except  in  the  choir. 
Towards  evening  the  fathers  received  intimation  to  be 
upon  their  guard.  "  The  students,"  it  was  said,  "  in- 
tended to  attack  the  monastery!"  .  .  The  monks, 
in  alarm,  not  knowing  how  to  defend  themselves 
against  these  real  or  supposed  attacks,  hastily  peti- 
tioned the  council  to  defend  them.  Some  soldiers  were 
sent ;  but  the  enemy  did  not  appear.  The  university 
caused  the  students  who  had  taken  part  in  these  dis- 
turbances to  be  arrested.  They  were  discovered  to  be 
students  from  Erfurt,  already  marked  for  insubordina- 
tion.    University  penalties  were  inflicted  on  them. 

Still,  it  was  felt  necessary  carefully  to  examine  the 
lawfulness  of  monastic  vows.  A  chapter,  consisting  of 
the  Augustines  of  Thuringia  and  Misnia,  met  at  Wit- 
temberg in  the  month  of  December.  Their  views 
coincided  with  Luther's.  They  declared,  on  the  one 
hand,  that  monastic  vows  were  not  sinful ;  but,  on  the 
other,  that  they  were  not  obligatory.  '•  In  Christ," 
said  they,  "  there  is  neither  laic  nor  monk  ;  every  one 
is  free  to  quit  the  monastery,  or  to  remain  in  it.  Let 
him  who  departs  not  abuse  his  liberty;  let  him  who 
remains  obey  his  superiors,  and  tiiat  from  love."  Then 
they  abolished  mendicancy  and  masses  said  for  money; 
they  also  decreed  that  the  most  learned  among  them 
should  apply  themselves  to  the  teaching  of  the  Word 
of  God,  and  that  the  others  should  support  their  breth- 
ren by  the  work  of  their  hands. 

The  question  of  vows  thus  seemed  determined;  but 
that  of  the  mass  remained  undecided.     The  elector  con- 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


tinned  to  oppose  the  torrent,  and  protected  an  institu- 
tion -n-hich  was  still  standing  in  every  part  of  Christen- 
dom. The  orders  of  an  indulgent  prince  were  unable, 
however,  long  to  restrain  men's  minds.  The  brain  of 
Carlstadt  especially  fermented  amid  tlie  general  fer- 
mentation. Full  of  zeal,  honesty,  and  iutrepidity,  and 
ready,  like  Luther,  to  sacrifice  everything  for  the  truth, 
he  had  less  wisdom  and  moderation  than  the  reformer. 
He  was  not  free  from  a  love  of  vain-glory;  and,  with  a 
decided  inclination  to  go  to  the  bottom  of  every  ques- 
tion, he  had  little  judgment  and  little  clearness  in  his 
ideas.  Luther  had  drawn  him  from  the  midst  of  the 
schoolmen,  and  turned  him  towards  the  study  of  Scrip- 
ture ;  but  Carlstadt  had  not  patience  to  study  the 
original  tongues,  and  had  not  perceived,  like  his  friend, 
the  full  sufficiency  of  the  "Word  of  God.  Accordingly, 
he  was  often  seen  to  fasten  on  the  most  singular  inter- 
pretations. So  long  as  Luther  was  at  his  side,  the 
superiority  of  the  master  kept  the  scholar  within  due 
bounds.  But  Carlstadt  was  now  at  liberty;  and  this 
little  man,  of  sallow  tint,  who  had  never  been  con- 
spicuous for  eloquence,  was  heard  at  the  university  and 
the  church,  especially  in  Wittemberg,  giving  eager  ex- 
pression to  ideas  which,  though  sometimes  profound, 
were  often  euthusiastic  and  extravagant.  "  What 
folly,"  exclaimed  he,  "  to  think  that  the  Eeformation 
should  be  left  to  the  agency  of  God  alone !  A  new 
order  of  things  begins.  The  hand  of  man  must  inter- 
pose. Woe  to  him  who  stays  behind,  and  will  not 
mount  the  breach  in  the  cause  of  the  mighty  God."     .     . 

The  words  of  the  archdeacon  communicated  to  others 
the  impatience  which  animated  himself.  Following 
his  example,  individuals  who  were  sincere  and  straight- 
forward exclaimed :  "  All  that  the  popes  have  ordained 
is  impious.  Let  us  not  become  accomplices  in  these 
abominations  by  allowing  them  to  subsist.  What  is 
condemned  by  the  Word  of  God  must  be  abolished  in 
Christendom,  whatever  be  the  ordinances  of  men.  If 
the  heads  of  the  State  and  Church  will  not  do  their 
duty,  let  us  do  ours.  Let  us  renounce  negotiations, 
conferences,  theses,  and  debates,  and  have  recourse  to 
the  true  remedy  for  all  these  evils.  There  must  be  a 
second  Elijah  to  destroy  the  altars  of  Baal." 

The  re-establishment  of  the  Last  Supper  at  this 
moment  of  fermentation  and  enthusiasm,  doubtless, 
could  not  exhibit  the  solemnity  and  sacredness  of  its 
institution  by  the  Son  of  God  the  evening  before  His 
death,  and  almost  at  the  foot  of  His  cross.  But  if  God 
now  made  use  of  feeble,  and,  perhaps,  passionate  men, 
it  was  still  His  hand  which  re-established  the  feast  of 
His  love  in  the  bosom  of  His  Church. 

As  early  as  the  month  of  October,  Carlstadt,  with 
twelve  of  his  friends,  had  secretly  celebrated  the  Lord's 
Supper,  agreeably  to  its  original  institution.  The  Sun- 
day before  Christmas  he  intimated  from  the  pulpit  that, 
on  the  feast  of  the  Circumcision,  being  New-year's- 
day,  he  would  dispouse  the  Supper  imder  the  two  kinds 
of  bread  and  wine  to  all  who  should  present  themselves 
at  the  altar;  that  he  would  omit  all  useless  ceremonies; 
atid  in  celebrating  this  mass  would  not  put  on  either 
cope  or  chasuble. 

The  council,  in  alarm,  requested  Councillor  Beyer 
to  prevent  so  great  an  irregularity.  On  this  Carlstadt 
resolved  not  to  wait  for  the  time  he  had  appointed. 


On  Christmas,  1521,  he  preaches  in  the  parish  church 
on  the  necessity  of  abandoning  the  mass,  and  receiving 
the  sacrament  under  the  two  kinds.  After  sermon  he 
descends  to  the  altar,  pronounces  the  words  of  conse- 
cration in  German,  then  turning  to  the  people,  who 
were  all  attention,  he  says  in  a  solemn  tone :  "  Whoso- 
ever feels  the  bm'deu  of  his  sins,  and  is  hungering  and 
thirsting  for  Divine  grace,  let  him  come  and  receive 
the  body  and  blood  of  the  Lord."  Afterwards,  with- 
out raising  the  host,  he  distributes  the  bread  and  wine 
to  all,  saying:  "This  is  the  cup  of  my  blood,  the  blood 
of  the  new  and  everlasting  covenant." 

Different  sentiments  pervaded  the  audience.  Some, 
feeling  that  new  grace  from  God  was  given  to  the 
Church,  came  to  the  altar  under  deep  emotion  and  in 
silence.  Others,  attracted  particularly  by  the  novelty, 
approached  with  agitation  and  a  certain  degree  of  im- 
patience. Only  five  communicants  presented  them- 
selves at  the  confessional.  The  others  simply  took  part 
in  the  public  confession  of  sins.  Carlstadt  gave  general 
absolution  to  all,  enjoining  no  other  penitence  than 
this:  "  Sin  no  more."  At  the  close  they  sang  the  hymn, 
Lamh  of  God. 

No  opposition  was  made  to  Carlstadt ;  these  reforms 
had  already  obtained  the  public  consent.  The  arch- 
deacon dispensed  the  Supper  again  on  New-year's-day; 
then  on  the  following  Sunday;  and  thereafter  the 
ordinance  was  regularly  observed.  Einsidlen,  one  of 
the  elector's  councillors,  having  iipbraided  Carlstadt 
with  seeking  his  own  glory  rather  than  the  salvation 
of  his  hearers:  "Mighty  sir,"  replied  he,  "there  is  no 
death  that  can  make  me  abandon  Scripture.  The 
Word  has  come  to  me  so  readily.  .  .  .  Woe  to  me 
if  I  preach  not."     Carlstadt  married  soon  after. 

In  the  month  of  January,  the  town  council  of  Wit- 
temberg and  the  university  regulated  the  celebration 
of  the  Supper  in  accordance  with  the  new  form.  At 
the  same  time,  the  means  were  taken  into  consideration 
of  restoring  the  moral  influence  of  religion ;  for  the 
Reformation  behoved  to  re-establish  simultaneously 
faith,  worship,  and  manners.  It  was  decreed  that 
mendicants,  whether  lay  or  not,  shbuld  no  longer  be 
tolerated ;  and  that  in  each  street  a  pious  man  should 
be  charged  to  take  care  of  the  poor,  and  cite  scanda- 
lous offenders  before  the  university  or  the  council. 

Thus  fell  the  mass,  the  principal  bulwark  of  Eome; 
thus  the  Reformation  passed  from  doctrine  to  worship. 
Three  ages  before,  the  mass  and  transubstantiation  had 
been  definitively  established,  and  thereafter  everything 
in  the  Church  had  taken  a  new  direction, — the  general 
tendency  being  to  give  glory  to  man  and  reverence  to 
the  priest.  The  holy  sacrament  had  been  worshipped ; 
feasts  had  been  instituted  in  honour  of  the  greatest 
miracles ;  the  adoration  of  Mary  had  obtained  an  im- 
portant place ;  the  priest  who,  in  his  consecration, 
received  the  strange  power  of  "  making  the  body  of 
Christ,"  had  been  separated  from  the  laity,  and  had 
become,  according  to  Thomas  Aquinas,  a  mediator  be- 
tween God  and  man ;  celibacy  had  been  proclaimed  as 
an  inviolable  law ;  auricular  confession  had  been  im- 
posed on  the  people,  and  the  cup  taken  from  them ;  for 
how  could  humble  laity  be  placed  on  the  same  level  with 
priests  entrusted  with  the  most  august  ministry?  The 
mass  was  an  insult  to  the  Son  of  God ;  it  was  opposed 


SPURIOUS  REFORM. 


STl 


to  the  perfect  grace  of  His  cross,  and  the  spotless  glory 
of  His  eternal  kingdom.  But  if  it  degraded  our  Lord, 
it  exalted  the  priest  whom  it  invested  with  the  extra- 
ordinary power  of  reproducing  in  his  hands,  at  will, 
his  sovereign  Creator.  The  Church  appeared  hence- 
forth to  exist,  not  in  order  to  prcacli  the  Gospel,  but 
simply  to  reproduce  Christ  corporeally  in  the  midst  of 
her.  The  pontiff  of  Rome,  whose  most  humble  ser- 
vants at  pleasure  created  the  body  of  God  himself, 
sat  as  God  in  the  temple  of  God,  and  ascribed  to  him- 
self a  spiritual  treasure,  out  of  which  he  drew  unlimited 
indulgences  for  the  pardon  of  sins. 

Such  were  the  gross  errors  which,  together  with  the 
mass,  had  for  three  centuries  been  imposed  on  the 
Church.  The  Reformation,  in  abolishing  this  human 
institution,  abolished  all  these  abuses.  The  act  of  the 
Archdeacon  of  Wittemberg  was  therefore  one  of  high 
consequence.  The  sumptuous  festivals  which  amused 
the  people,  the  worship  of  Mary,  the  pride  of  the 
priesthood,  the  power  of  the  pope,  all  tottered  with 
the  mass.  Glory  was  withdrawn  from  the  priests  and 
restored  to  Jesus  Christ.  The  Reformation  thus  took 
an  immense  step  in  advance. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Sputions  Reform  — The  New  Prophets— The  Prophets  at  TTittemberg- 
JUlriiicthon— The  Elector— Luther,  Carlstadt,  and  Images— Disorders 

—Luther  Sent  for— He  Hesitates  not— Dangers. 

Still  men  under  the  influence  of  prejudice  might 
have  been  unable  to  see  in  the  work  which  was  being 
accomplished,  more  than  the  effect  of  vain  enthusiasm. 
Facts  themselves  behoved  to  prove  the  contrary,  and 
demonstrate  that  there  is  a  wide  space  between  a 
Reformation  founded  on  the  Word  of  God  and  a  giddy 
fanaticism. 

When  a  great  religious  fermentation  takes  place  in 
the  Church,  some  impure  elements  always  mingle  with 
the  manifestation  of  the  truth.  One  or  more  false 
reforms  proceeding  from  man  rise  to  the  surface,  and 
serve  as  a  testimony  or  countersign  to  true  reform. 
Thus,  in  the  days  of  Christ,  several  false  messiahs 
attested  that  the  true  Messiah  had  appeared.  The 
Reformation  of  the  sixteenth  century  could  not  bo 
accomplished  without  exhibiting  a  similar  phenomenon. 
The  place  where  it  appeared  was  the  little  town  of 
Zwickau. 

There  wore  some  men  who,  excited  by  the  great 
events  which  then  agitated  Christendom,  aspired  to 
direct  revelations  from  the  Deity,  instead  of  simply 
seeking  sanctilication  of  heart,  and  who  pretended 
they  had  a  call  to  complete  the  Reformation  which 
had  been  feebly  sketched  by  Luther.  '"What  use  is 
there,"  said  thev,  "  in  attaching  oneself  so  strictly  to 
the  Bible  1  Tlie  Bible  !  always  the  Bible !  Can  the 
Bible  speak  to  us?  Is  it  not  insufficient  to  instruct 
us?  Had  God  designed  to  teach  us  by  a  book,  would 
He  not  have  sent  a  Bible  from  heaven  ?  It  is  by  the 
Spirit  only  that  we  can  be  illumined.  God  himself 
speaks  to  us.     God  himself  reveals  to  us  what  we 


ought  to  do,  and  what  wc  ouglit  to  say."  Thus,  like 
the  partisans  of  Rome,  these  fanatics  attacked  the  fun- 
damental principle  on  which  the  whole  Reformation 
rests, — the  sufficiency  of  the  Word  of  God. 

A  simple  weaver,  named  Nicolas  Storcli,  announced 
that  the  angel  Gabriel  had  appeared  to  him  during  the 
night,  and  after  having  communicated  to  him  things 
which  he  could  not  yet  reveal,  had  said  to  him : 
'•Thou,  thou  shalt  sit  upon  my  throne."  An  old 
student  of  Wittemberg,  named  Mark  Stubncr,  joined 
Storch,  and  forthwith  abandoned  his  studies,  having, 
as  he  said,  received  the  gift  of  interpreting  the  Holy 
Scriptures  immediately  from  God.  Mark  Thomas, 
also  a  weaver,  .added  to  their  number;  and  a  new 
adept,  Thomas  Munzer,  a  man  of  a  fanatical  spirit, 
gave  a  regular  organization  to  this  new  sect.  Storch, 
wishing  to  follow  the  example  of  Christ,  chose  among 
his  adherents  twehe  apostles  and  seventy-two  disciples. 
All  of  these  openly  announced — as  a  sect  in  our  days 
has  done — that  apostles  and  prophets  are  at  length 
restored  to  the  Church  of  God. 

Shortly  after  the  new  prophets,  pretending  to  walk 
iu  the  footsteps  of  those  of  ancient  times,  delivered 
their  messsgo.  "  Woe !  woe  ! "  said  they.  '•  A  Church 
governed  by  men  so  corrupt  as  the  bishops,  caunot  be 
the  Church  of  Christ.  The  wicked  rulers  of  Christen- 
dom will  ere  long  be  overthrown.  Iii  five,  six,  or 
seven  years,  universal  desolation  will  burst  forth. 
The  Turk  will  seize  upon  Germany;  all  the  priests, 
even  those  who  are  married,  will  be  put  to  death.  No 
wicked  man,  no  sinner,  will  be  left  alive ;  and  after  the 
earth  shall  have  been  purified  by  blood,  God  will  set 
up  His  kingdom  in  it ;  Storch  will  be  put  in  possession 
of  supreme  authority,  and  will  commit  the  government 
of  the  nations  to  saints.  Henceforth  there  will  be 
only  one  faith  and  one  baptism.  The  day  of  the  Lord 
is  at  hand,  and  wc  are  touching  on  the  end  of  the 
world.  Woe!  woe!  woe!"  Then,  declaring  that  the 
baptism  received  in  infancy  was  of  no  value,  the  new 
prophets  invited  all  men  to  come  and  receive  the  true 
baptism  at  their  hands,  as  a  sign  of  introduction  into 
the  new  Church  of  God. 

These  discourses  made  a  strong  impression  on  the 
people.  Some  pious  souls  were  moved  at  the  idea  that 
prophets  were  restored  to  the  Church ;  and  all  who 
loved  the  marvellous,  threw  themselves  into  the  arms 
of  the  eccentric  men  of  Zwickau. 

But  scarcely  had  this  old  heresy,  which  had  formerly 
existed  in  the  times  of  Jlontanism,  and  in  the  jNIiddle 
Ages,  again  found  followers,  than  it  encountered  a 
powerfuf  opponent  in  the  Reformation.  Nicolas 
Hausmann,  to  whom  Luther  bore  this  fine  testimony, 
"  What  we  teach,  he  practises,"  was  pastor  of  Zwickau. 
This  good  man  did  not  allow  himself  to  be  led  astray 
by  the  pretensions  of  the  false  prophets.  He  laid  an 
arrest  on  the  innovations  which  Storch  and  his  adher- 
ents wished  to  introduce,  and  in  this  his  two  deacons 
concurred  with  him.  The  fanatics,  repulsed  by  the 
ministers  of  the  Church,  plunged  into  another  excess. 
They  formed  assemblies,  in  which  revolutionary  doc- 
trines were  professed.  The  people  were  excited,  and 
disturbances  broke  out;  a  priest,  who  was  carrj'ing 
the  holy  sacrament,  was  assailed  with  volleys  of  stones. 
The  civil  authority  interposed,  and  threw  the  most 


272 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


yioleiit  iuto  prison.  Indignant  at  this  proceeding,  and 
impatient  to  justify  themselves  and  state  their  com- 
I^laint,  Storch,  Mark  Thomas,  and  Stubner,  repaired 
to  Wittemberg. 

They  arrived  on  the  27th  December,  1521.  Storch 
walJied  in  front  with  the  bearing  and  mien  of  a  trooper. 
Mark  Thomas  and  Stubner  followed  him.  The  dis- 
quiet which  prevailed  in  Wittemberg  favoured  their 
designs.  The  students  and  burghers,  deeply  moved, 
and  already  in  a  state  of  fermentation,  were  a  soil  well 
fitted  for  the  new  prophets. 

Thinking  themselves  sure  of  their  support,  they  im- 
mediately repaired  to  the  professors  of  the  imiversity, 
in  order  to  obtain  a  testimony  in  their  favour.  "  We," 
said  they,  "are  sent  by  God  to  instruct  the  people. 
We  hold  familiar  converse  with  the  Lord ;  we  know 
things  to  come ;  in  a  word,  we  are  apostles  and  pro- 
phets, and  we  appeal  for  the  fact  to  Doctor  Luther." 
This  strange  language  astonished  the  professors. 

"  Who  ordained  you  to  preach  ?  "  asked  Melancthon 
of  Stubner,  his  old  student,  who  had  lodged  in  his 
house. — "Our  Lord  God."  "Have  you  written  any 
books?" — "Our  Lord  God  has  forbidden  me."  Me- 
lancthon is  moved,  astonished,  and  alarmed. 

"  There  are  extraoi-dinary  spirits  in  these  men,"  says 
he ;  "  but  what  kind  of  spirits  ?  Luther  alone  can  de- 
termine. On  the  one  hand,  let  us  beware  of  extinguish- 
ing the  Spir-it  of  God;  and  on  the  other,  of  being 
seduced  by  the  spirit  of  the  devil."  Storch,  who  was 
of  a  restless  temper,  soon  quitted  Wittemberg.  Stub- 
ner remained.  Animated  with  an  ardent  spirit  of 
proselytism,  he  went  up  and  down  the  town,  speaking 
sometimes  to  one,  and  sometimes  to  another.  Several 
acknowledged  him  as  a  prophet  of  God.  He  applied 
particularly  to  a  Swabian,  named  Cellarius,  a  friend  of 
Melancthon,  who  kept  a  school,  in  which  he  instructed 
a  great  number  of  young  people  in  literature,  and  who 
soon  became  a  firm  believer  in  the  mission  of  the  new 
ajjostles. 

Melancthon  became  the  more  uncertain  and  per- 
plexed. The  visions  of  the  new  prophets  did  not  dis- 
turb him  so  much  as  their  new  doctrine  on  baptism. 
It  seemed  to  him  agreeable  to  reason,  and  he  considered 
it  a  subject  worthy  of  examination ;  "  for,"  said  he, 
"it  is  not  right  either  to  admit  or  reject  anything 
lightly." 

Such  is  the  spirit  of  the  Reformation.  Melancthon's 
hesitancy  and  anxiety  are  proofs  of  the  uprightness  of 
his  heart,  and,  perhaps,  do  him  more  honour  than  a 
systematic  opposition  could  have  done. 

The  elector,  whom  Melancthon  named  "  the  lamp  of- 
Israel,"  was  also  hesitating.  Prophets  and  apostles  in 
the  electorate  of  Saxony,  as  formerly  at  Jerusalem! 
"  This  is  au  important  affair,"  said  he ;  "  and  as  a  lay- 
man I  cannot  comprehend  it.  But  sooner  than  act 
against  God,  I  will  take  my  staff  in  my  hand  and  quit 
my  tlirone." 

At  last  he  desired  his  councillors  to  say  to  the  pro- 
fessors that  they  had  enough  of  trouble  on  their  hands 
at  Wittemberg ;  that,  in  all  probability,  the  pretensions 
of  the  men  of  Zwickau  were  only  a  delusion  of  the 
devil,  and  that  the  wisest  course  seemed  to  be  to  let 
the  whole  affair  go  off ;  that  nevertheless,  in  every  case 
where  his   electoral   highness   saw   the  will  of   God 


clearly,  he  would  not  take  counsel  either  of  brother  or 
mother,  but  would  be  ready  to  suffer  everything  for 
the  cause  of  truth. 

Luther  in  the  Wartburg  was  apprised  of  the  agita- 
tion which  prevailed  at  the  court  and  at  Wittemberg. 
Strange  men  had  appeared,  and  it  was  difficult  to  say 
whence  their  message  came.  He  instantly  perceived 
that  God  had  permitted  these  sad  events  to  humble  His 
servants,  and  urge  them  by  trials  to  make  greater 
endeavours  after  sanctification. 

"  Your  electoral  highness,"  wrote  he  to  Frederick, 
"  for  many  years  made  search  for  relics  in  all  countries. 
God  has  listened  to  your  desires,  and  sent  you  a  cross 
quite  entire,  with  nails,  spears,  and  scourges.  .  .  . 
Grace  and  prosperity  to  the  new  relic  !  .  .  .  Only 
let  your  highness  extend  your  arms  without  fear,  and 
allow  the  nails  to  sink  into  your  flesh  !  .  ,  I  always 
expected  that  Satan  would  send  us  this  sore  plague."     . 

But  at  the  same  time  nothing  appeared  to  him  more 
urgent  than  to  secure  others  in  the  liberty  which  he 
claimed  for  himself.  He  had  not  two  weights  and  two 
measures.  "Beware,"  wrote  he  to  Spalatin,  "of 
throwing  them  into  prison  ;  let  not  the  prince  embrue 
his  hands  iu  the  blood  of  these  new  prophets."  Luther 
was  far  before  his  age,  and  even  before  several  other 
reformers,  on  the  subject  of  religious  liberty. 

Circumstances  continued  to  become  more  serious  at 
Wittemberg. 

Carlstadt  rejected  several  of  the  doctrines  of  the  new 
prophets,  and  in  particidar  their  auabaptism  ;  but  there 
is  in  religious  enthusiasm  something  contagious,  from 
which  a  head  like  his  could  not  easily  defend  itself. 
No  sooner  had  the  men  of  Zwickau  arrived  at  AYittem- 
berg  than  Carlstadt  quickened  his  pace  in  the  prosecu- 
tion of  violent  reforms.  "It  is  necessary,"  said  he, 
"  to  make  an  assault  on  all  impious  customs,  and  over- 
turn them  in  one  day."  Calling  to  mind  all  the  pas- 
sages of  Scripture  against  images,  he  declaimed  with  in- 
creasing energy  against  the  idolatry  of  Rome.  "  They 
bow  and  crouch  before  these  idols,"  exclaimed  he ; 
"  they  kindle  tapers  to  them,  and  present  offerings  to 
them.  .  .  .  Let  us  arise  and  pluck  them  from  their 
altars!" 

These  words  did  not  soimd  in  vain  in  the  ears  of  the 
people.  They  entered  the  churches,  carried  off  the 
images,  broke  them  iu  pieces,  and  burnt  them.  It 
would  have  been  better  to  wait  till  their  abolition  had 
been  legally  determined ;  but  it  was  thought  that  the 
tardiness  of  the  leaders  was  compromising  the  Refor- 
mation itself. 

Shortly,  to  hear  these  enthusiasts,  there  were  no 
longer  any  true  Christians  in  Wittemberg  save  those 
who  did  not  confess,  who  assailed  the  priests,  and  ate 
flesh  on  forbidden  days.  Any  one  suspected  of  not 
rejecting  all  the  observances  of  Rome  as  inventions  of 
the  devil,  was  a  worshipper  of  Baal.  "It  is  neces- 
sary," exclaimed  they,  "  to  form  a  Church  composed 
only  of  saints." 

The  citizens  of  Wittemberg  presented  certain  articles 
to  the  council  for  their  adoption.  Several  of  these 
articles  were  conformable  to  evangelical  morality.  In 
particular,  they  asked  that  all  places  of  public  amuse- 
ment should  be  shut. 

But  Carlstadt  soon  went  still  farther ;  he  began  to 


VANDALISM— MOURNFUL  CONSEQUENCES. 


despise  learning ;  and  the  old  professor  was  licard  from 
his  chair  counselliug  his  students  to  return  lo  their 
liomes,  resume  the  hoe,  hold  the  plough,  and  quietly 
cultivate  the  ground,  since  it  was  by  the  sweat  of  his 
brow  that  mau  was  to  eat  bread.  George  Jlohr,  mas- 
ter of  the  school-boys  at  Wittemberg,  led  astray  by  the 
same  crotchet,  called  from  his  school  window  to  the 
assembled  citizens,  to  come  and  take  away  their  child- 
ren. What  was  the  use  of  making  them  study  ?  Storch 
and  Stubner  had  never  been  at  the  university,  and  yet 
they  were  prophets.  la  preaching  the  Gospel,  there- 
fore, a  citizen  was  worth  as  much,  perhaps  worth  more, 
than  all  the  teachers  of  the  world. 

Thus  arose  doctrines  in  direct  opposition  to  the 
Kefonnation,  which  the  revival  of  letters  had  prepared. 
It  was  with  the  armour  of  theological  science  that 
Luther  had  attacked  Rome ;  and  yet  the  enthusiasts  of 
Wittemberg,  like  the  fanatical  monks  whom  Erasmus 
and  Reuchlin  had  combated,  pretended  to  trample  all 
human  knowledge  under  their  feet.  Should  Vandalism 
come  to  be  established,  the  hope  of  the  world  was  lost. 
A  new  invasion  of  barbarism  would  quench  the  light 
which  God  had  again  kindled  in  Christendom. 

The  effects  of  these  strange  harangues  were  soon 
seen.  Men's  minds  were  prejudiced,  agitated,  turned 
aside  from  the  Gospel ;  the  university  was  disorganized, 
and  the  students,  becoming  demoralized,  were  dispersed, 
— the  governments  of  Germany  recalling  such  as  be- 
longed to  them.  Thus  the  men  who  wished  to  reform, 
and  give  life  to  everything,  were  proceeding  in  a  course 
of  destruction.  "  One  last  effort  more,"  exclaimed  the 
friends  of  Rome,  who  were  everywhere  resuming  cour- 
age,— "one  last  effort  more,  and  all  will  be  gained!" 

The  only  means  of  saving  the  Reformation  was  a 
prompt  suppression  of  the  excesses  of  the  fanatics.  But 
who  could  doit?  Melancthon?  He  was  too  young, 
too  feeble,  too  much  agitated  himself  by  these  strange 
apparitions.  The  elector?  He  was  the  most  pacific 
man  of  his  age.  To  build  the  castles  of  Altenburg, 
Weimar,  and  Coburg ;  to  adorn  the  churches  with  the 
fine  paintings  of  Lucas  Cranach  ;  to  perfect  the  music 
of  his  chapels  ;  to  promote  the  prosperity  of  his  univer- 
sity; to  render  his  people  happy;  to  stop  in  the  midst 
of  the  children  whom  he  met  playing  on  the  road,  and 
distribute  little  presents  among  them, — such  were  the 
sweetest  occupations  of  his  life.  And  now,  as  he  ad- 
vanced in  life,  would  he  come  to  close  quarters  with 
fanatics,  and  oppose  violence  to  violence  ?  How  could 
the  good,  the  pious  Frederick  resolve  to  do  so  ? 

Accordingly,  the  evil  continued,  and  none  appeared 
to  arrest  it.  Luther  was  away  from  Wittemberg. 
Trouble  and  ruin  had  invaded  the  city.  The  Reforma- 
tion had  seen  an  enemy  arise  in  its  bosom,  more  for- 
midable than  popes  and  emperors,  and  now  stood  on 
the  brink  of  the  precipice. 

"Luther!  Luther!"  was  the  universal  cry  at  Wit- 
temberg. The  burghers  urgently  called  for  him ;  the 
professors  long  for  his  counsels ;  the  prophets  them- 
selves appealed  to  him.     All  implored  him  to  return. 

We  can  conceive  what  was  passing  in  the  mind  of 
the  reformer.  All  the  severities  of  Rome  were  nothing 
in  comparison  of  the  distress  which  now  afflicted  his 
soul.  The  enemies  of  the  Reformation  were  coming 
forth  from  her  own  bosom.     She  was  tearing  her  own 


vitals ;  and  the  doctrine,  which  alone  gave  peace  to  his 
agitated  heart,  was  becoming  an  occasion  of  fatal  disas- 
ter to  the  Church. 

Ho  had  said  :  "  If  I  knew  that  my  doctrine  was  hurt- 
ful to  man,  to  any  one  simple  obscure  man,  (this  it 
cannot  be,  since  it  is  the  Gospel  itself,)  I  would  sooner 
die  ten  times  tlian  not  retract  it." 

And  now  a  whole  town,  and  this  town  Wittemberg, 
was  falling  into  error.  The  doctrine  was  no  way  to 
blame ;  but  from  all  quarters  of  Germany  voices  were 
raised  to  accuse  him.  Sorrows  keener  than  any  he 
had  ever  felt  now  assailed,  and  new  temptations 
agitated  him.  "  Can  this,  then,"  he  asked  himself, 
"  be  the  end  to  which  the  work  of  the  Reformation  was 
to  lead  ? "  But  ho  repels  these  doubts.  God  began, 
and  God  will  accomplish.  "  I  creep  and  keep  drag- 
ging on  towards  the  grace  of  the  Eternal,"  exclaims 
he,  "  and  entreat  that  His  name  may  remain  attached 
to  this  work,  that  if  anything  impure  has  mingled  with 
it.  He  would  remember  that  I  am  but  a  sinful  man." 

The  account  sent  to  Luther  of  the  inspiration  of  the 
new  prophets,  and  their  sublime  converse  with  God, 
did  not  shake  him  for  one  moment.  He  knew  the 
depths,  the  agonies,  and  humiliations  of  the  spiritual 
life.  At  Erfurt  and  Wittemberg  he  had  had  experi- 
ence of  the  power  of  God — experience  which  did  not 
allow  him  to  believe  so  easily  that  God  should  appear 
to  the  creature,  and  hold  converse  with  him.  "  Ask 
them,"  wrote  he  to  Melancthon,  "if  they  have  experi- 
enced those  spiritual  tortures,  those  creations  of  God, 
those  deaths  and  hells  which  accompany  a  true  regene- 
ration. And  if  they  tell  you  only  of  enjoyment  of 
what  they  call  tranquil  impressions  of  devotion  and 
piety,  believe  them  not,  even  should  they  pretend  to 
have  been  carried  to  the  third  heaven.  Christ,  in 
order  that  He  might  arrive  at  His  glory,  behoved  to 
pass  through  death ;  so  must  the  believer  pass  through 
the  anguish  of  sin  before  he  arrive  at  peace.  Would 
you  know  the  time,  the  place,  the  manner,  in  which 
God  speaks  with  men  ?  Listen :  He  has  broken  all  my 
bones  like  a  lion;  I  am  rejected  before  His  face,  and  my 
sold  is  humbled  to  the  loicest  hell.  No !  the  Divine 
Majesty  (as  they  term  it)  does  not  speak  to  man  so 
directly  that  mau  can  visibly  behold  it;  for  no  man, 
says  He,  can  see  me  and  live." 

But  the  conviction  that  the  prophets  were  deluded 
only  served  to  augment  Luther's  grief.  Is  it  true, 
then,  that  the  great  doctrine  of  salvation  by  grace  has 
so  soon  lost  its  attractions,  that  men  turn  aside  from 
it  to  attach  themselves  to  fables?  He  begins  to  expe- 
rience that  the  work  is  not  so  easy  as  he  had  at  first 
supposed.  He  stumbles  over  this  first  stone  which  the 
wanderings  of  the  human  mind  have  placed  in  his 
path.  Distressed  and  in  anguish,  he  is  willing,  at  the 
cost  of  his  life,  to  take  it  out  of  the  way  of  his  people, 
and  determines  on  returning  to  Wittemberg. 

Many  were  the  dangers  which  then  threatened  him. 
The  enemies  of  the  Reformation  were  confident  of  de- 
stroying it.  George  of  Saxony,  whose  wish  was  neither 
for  Rome  nor  AVittemberg,  had  written,  16th  October, 
1.521,  to  Duke  John,  the  elector's  brother,  advising  him 
to  join  the  ranks  of  the  enemies  of  reform.  "Some,"  said 
he,  "  deny  the  immortality  of  the  soul.  Others  (and 
they  are  monks)  drag  the  relics  of  St.  Anthony  with 


274 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


tinkling  bells  and  swine,  and  cast  them  into  the  mire. 
And  all  this  comes  of  Luther's  doctrine!  Entreat  your 
brother  the  elector  either  to  punish  the  impious  authors 
of  these  innovations,  or  publicly  to  declare  what  his 
ultimate  intentions  are.  The  whitening  of  our  locks 
warns  us  that  we  are  cbawiug  near  the  last  stage  of 
life,  and  urge  us  to  put  an  end  to  all  these  evils." 

After  this  George  departed  to  take  his  seat  in  the 
imperial  government  established  at  Nuremberg,  and 
immediately  on  his  arrival  used  every  means  he  coiUd 
to  induce  the  adoption  of  severe  measm-es.  In  fact 
this  body,  on  the  21st  January,  issued  an  edict,  com- 
plaining bitterly  that  the  priests  said  mass  without 
being  clothed  in  the  sacerdotal  dress,  consecrated  the 
holy  sacrament  in  German,  dispensed  it  without  receiv- 
ing the  necessary  confessions,  placed  it  in  the  hands  of 
laics,  and  did  not  even  trouble  themselves  to  inquire 
whether  or  not  those  who  came  forward  to  take  it  had 
broken  their  fast. 

The  imperial  government  accordingly  called  upon 
the  bishops  to  search  out  and  rigorously  punish  all  the 
innovators  who  might  be  found  within  their  respective 
dioceses.  The  bishops  hastened  to  comjily  with  these 
orders. 

Such  was  the  moment  which  Luther  chose  to  re- 
appear upon  the  scene.  He  saw  the  danger;  he  fore- 
saw immense  disasters.  "In  the  empire,"  said  he, 
"there  will  soon  be  a  tumult,  which  will  drag,  pell 
meli,  princes,  magistrates,  and  bishops.  The  people 
have  eyes:  they  neither  will  nor  can  be  led  by  force. 
Germany  will  swim  in  blood.  Let  us  place  ourselves 
in  the  breach,  and  save  our  coimtry  in  this  great  and 
terrible  day  of  the  Lord." 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Dep.irture  from  the  Wartbiirg — New  Positioa — Luther  and  Primitive  Ca- 
tholicism—Meeting at  the  Black  Bear— Luther  to  the  Elector— Return 
to  Wittemterg— Discourses  at  Wittemberg— Charity— The  Word— How 
the  Reformation  was  efTected— Faith  in  Chris^-EfTect— Didymus— Carl- 
stadt— The  Prophets— Conference  with  Luther— End  of  the  Struggle. 

Such  was  Luther's  thought,  but  he  saw  a  still  more 
pressing  danger.  At  Wittemberg,  the  fire,  far  from 
being  extinguished,  was  becoming  more  violent  from 
day  to  day.  From  the  heights  of  the  Wartburg  Luther 
could  discover  in  the  horizon  the  signs  of  devastation — 
frightful  blazes  darting  up  suddenly  into  the  air.  Is 
not  he  the  only  one  who  can  bring  assistance  in  this 
extremity?  Will  he  not  throw  himself  into  the  midst 
of  the  flames,  to  extinguish  the  conflagration?  In  vain 
do  his  enemies  prepare  to  strike  the  last  blow;  in  vain 
does  the  elector  implore  him  to  continue  in  the  Wart- 
burg, and  prepare  his  defence  for  the  next  diet.  He 
has  something  more  important  to  do — he  has  to  defend 
the  Gospel  itself.  "  More  serious  news  reach  me  from 
day  to  day,"  writes  he.  "I  am  preparing  to  depart; 
circumstances  demand  it." 

In  fact,  on  the  morning  of  the  3rd  of  March,  he 
rises  with  the  determination  to  quit  the  Wartburg  for 
ever.      He  bids  adieu  to  its  old  towers  and  gloomy 


forests, — crosses  the  walls  where  the  e.'ccommunication 
of  Leo  X.  and  the  sword  of  Charles  V.  were  unable  to 
reach  him,  and  descends  the  mountain.  The  world 
which  extends  at  his  feet,  and  in  which  he  is  going  to 
re-appear,  will  perhaps  raise  a  death-cry  against  him. 
But  no  matter:  he  advances  joyfully,  for  it  is  in  the 
name  of  the  Lord  that  he  is  rejoining  the  society  of  his 
fellow-men. 

Time  had  moved  onward.  Luther  came  out  of  the 
AVartburg  for  a  different  cause  from  that  for  which  he 
had  entered  it.  He  had  entered  as  the  assailant  of 
ancient  tradition  and  ancient  doctors;  he  left  it  as  a 
defender  of  the  doctrine  of  the  apostles  against  new 
adversaries.  He  had  entered  as  an  innovator  and 
assailant  of  the  ancient  hierarchy;  he  came  out  as  its 
preserver,  and  for  the  defence  of  the  Christian  faith. 
Till  now,  Luther  had  only  one  aim  in  his  work,  viz., 
the  triumph  of  justification  by  faith;  with  this  weapon 
he  had  struck  down  powerful  superstitions.  But  if 
there  had  been  a  time  to  pull  down,  there  behoved  also 
to  be  a  time  to  build  up.  Behind  those  ruins  with 
which  his  arm  had  strewed  the  ground — behind  those 
tattered  letters  of  indulgences — those  broken  tiaras  and 
torn  cowls — behind  all  the  abuses  and  errors  of  Eome, 
which  lay  in  confused  heaps  on  the  field  of  battle,  he 
discerned  and  exhibited  the  primitive  Catholic  Church, 
re-appearing  always  the  same,  and  coming  forth,  after 
a  long  trial,  with  its  immutable  doctrines  and  heavenly 
accents.  He  knew  how  to  distinguish  between  it  and 
Rome :  he  hailed  it  and  embraced  it  with  joy.  Luther 
did  not,  as  he  has  been  falsely  accused,  bring  a  novelty 
into  the  world.  He  did  not  build  up  an  edifice  for 
the  future  that  had  no  connection  with  the  past.  He 
discovered  and  brought  to  light  the  old  foundation, 
overgrown  with  thorns  and  brambles,  and  merely 
continuing  the  structure  of  the  temple,  built  on  the 
foundation  which  the  apostles  had  laid.  Luther  under- 
stood that  the  ancient  and  primitive  Church  of  the 
apostles  required,  on  the  one  hand,  to  be  re-built,  in 
opposition  to  the  papacy,  which  had  so  long  oppressed 
it;  and  on  the  other,  to  be  defended  against  enthusiasts 
and  unbelievers,  who  pretended  not  to  see  it,  and  who, 
making  no  account  of  all  that  God  had  done  in  times 
past,  wished  to  begin  a  work  entirely  new.  Luther  was 
no  longer  exclusively  the  apostle  of  a  single  doctrine, 
— that  of  justification,  though  he  always  reserved  the 
first  place  for  it; — he  became  the  apostle  of  the  whole 
Christian  system ;  and  while  believing  that  the  Church 
consists  essentially  of  the  whole  body  of  the  saints,  he 
by  no  means  despised  the  visible  Church,  but  recognised 
the  assembly  of  all  who  are  called  as  the  kingdom  of 
God.  Thus  a  great  change  now  took  place  in  Luther's 
soul,  in  his  theology,  and  in  the  work  of  renovation 
which  God  was  accomplishing  in  the  world.  The 
hierai'chy  of  Rome  might  perhaps  have  m-ged  the 
reformer  into  an  extreme:  the  sects  which  then  raised 
their  heads  so  boldly  helped  to  bring  him  to  the  proper 
medium.  His  residence  in  the  Wartburg  divides  the 
history  of  the  Reformation  into  two  periods. 

Luther  was  trotting  along  the  road  to  Wittemberg 
on  the  second  day  of  his  journey,  which  was  Shrove 
Tuesday.  Towards  evening  a  dreadfid  storm  arose 
and  inundated  the  roads.  Two  young  Swiss,  who  were 
proceeding  in  the  same  du-ectiou,  hastened  on  in  order 


MEETING  AT  THE  BLACK  BEAR. 


275 


to  take  shelter  in  the  town  of  Jena.  They  had  studieil 
at  Bale,  but  were  on  then"  way  to  Wittcmberg,  attracted 
by  tlio  great  celebrity  of  its  university.  Travelling  on 
foot,  fatigued,  and  cb-euched.  .John  Kosskr  of  St.  Gall 
and  his  companion  quiokeueil  their  paco.  Tlio  town 
was  in  the  full  giiiety  of  the  carnival:  dances,  nias- 
cpierades,  and  noisy  feasts  occupied  all  the  inhabitants 
of  Jena ;  and  when  the  two  travellers  arrived,  every  inn 
was  occupied.  At  last  the  Black  Bear,  in  front  of  the 
town  gate,  was  mentioned  to  them.  Jaded  and  out  of 
spirits,  they  sadly  repaired  to  it.  The  host  received 
them  kindly,  and  they  sat  down  near  the  door  opening 
into  the  public  room,  without  presuming  to  enter,  being 
ashamed  of  the  state  into  which  the  storm  had  put 
them.  At  one  of  the  tables  sat  a  solitary  individual 
in  the  dress  of  a  knight;  his  head  was  covered  with  a 
red  cap,  and  his  underdress  was  covered  by  the  skirts 
of  his  doublet;  his  right  hand  rested  on  tlie  pommel  of 
his  sword,  while  his  left  held  it  by  the  hilt.  A  book 
was  open  before  him,  and  he  seemed  to  be  reading  with 
great  attention.  At  the  noise  made  by  the  two  youths, 
he  raised  his  head,  saluted  them  courteously,  and  in- 
vited them  to  como  forward  and  take  a  seat  at  table 
with  him;  then  offering  them  a  glass  of  beer,  and 
referring  to  their  accent,  he  said  to  them:  "You  are 
Swiss  I  see ;  but  of  what  canton?" — "  St.  Gall."  '•  If 
you  are  going  to  Wittemberg  you  will  find  a  country- 
man there,  Doctor  Schurff."  Encouraged  by  this  kind 
rtC('j)tion,  they  asked:  "Sir,  are  you  not  able  to  tell  us 
where  Jlartin  Luther  now  is?" — "I  know  for  certain," 
replied  the  knight,  "  that  Luther  is  not  at  Wittemberg; 
but  is  to  be  soon.  Philip  Melancthon  is  there.  Study 
Geeek  and  Hebrew,  that  you  may  have  a  good  undei"- 
standing  of  the  Holy  Scriptures." — "  If  God  spares  our 
lives,"  replied  one  of  the  youths  of  St.  Gall,  "we  shall 
not  return  home  till  we  have  seen  and  heard  Doctor 
Luther,  for  it  is  on  account  of  him  we  have  undertaken 
this  long  journey.  We  know  that  he  wishes  to  over- 
throw the  priesthood  and  the  mass;  and  as  our  parents 
have,  from  our  infancy,  intended  us  for  priests,  we 
would  fain  know  on  what  he  bottoms  his  enterprise." 
The  knight  was  silent  for  a  moment,  and  then  said: 
"Where  have  you  studied  hitherto'?" — "At  Bale." 
"Is  Erasmus  of  Rotterdam  still  there? — what  is  he 
about?"  They  answered  these  questions,  and  there  was 
a  now  pause.  The  two  Swiss  knew  not  wliat  to  think. 
"  Is  it  not  a  strange  thing,"  said  they,  "  that  this  knight 
talks  to  us  of  Schurff,  Melancthon,  and  Erasmus,  and 
of  the  necessity  of  studying  Greek  and  Hebrew?" 
"  Dear  friends,"  said  the  stranger  abruptly,  "  what  is 
thought  of  Luther  in  Switzerland?" — "  Sir,"  replied 
Kessler,  "opinions  differ,  as  everywhere  else;  some 
cannot  extol  him  sufRciently;  others  condemn  him  as 
an  abominable  heretic." — "Ah!  the  priests,  no  doubt," 
said  the  stranger. 

The  knight's  affability  had  put  the  two  students  at 
their  ease.  They  longed  eagerly  to  know  what  book 
he  was  reading  at  the  moment  of  their  arrival.  The 
knight  had  closed  it  and  laid  it  down  near  him.  Kess- 
ler's  companion  was  at  length  emboldened  to  take  it 
up.  AVhat  was  the  astonishment  of  the  two  youths  ? 
The  Psalms  in  Hebrew.  The  student  immediately 
laid  down  the  book,  and  wishing  to  make  his  indis- 
cretion be  forgotten,  said:  "I  would  willingly  give 


one  of  my  fingers  to  know  this  language." — "This  you 
wUl  certainly  do,"  replied  the  stranger,  "  if  you  take 
the  trouble  to  learn  it." 

Some  moments  after,  Kessler  heard  himself  called 
by  the  host.  The  poor  young  Swiss  feared  something 
was  wrong ;  but  the  host  whispered  to  him  :  "  I  per- 
ceive you  have  a  great  desire  to  see  and  hear  Luther ; 
very  well,  he  is  sitting  beside  you."  Kessler,  talcing  it 
for  a  joke,  said :  "  Ah,  host,  you  want  to  hwix  me." 
"  It  is  he,  certainly,"  replied  the  host,  "  only  don't  let 
it  be  seen  that  you  know  who  he  is."  Kessler  gave  no 
answer,  and  returned  to  the  table,  burning  with  eager- 
ness to  repeat  what  he  had  heard  to  his  companion. 
But  how  was  he  to  do  it  ?  At  last  it  occurred  to  him 
to  lean  forward  as  if  he  were  looking  to  the  door, 
when,  being  close  to  his  friend's  ear,  he  whispered  to 
him  :  "  The  host  assures  me  that  this  is  Luther."  "  He 
perhaps  said  Hlitten,"  replied  his  companion;  "you 
may  have  misunderstood  him." — "  It  is  quite  possible," 
replied  Kessler ;  "  the  host  may  have  said  Hiitten :  the 
two  sounds  are  not  imlike ;  I  may  have  mistaken  the 
one  for  the  other." 

At  this  moment  the  trampling  of  horses  was  heard 
iu  front  of  the  hotel ;  and  two  merchants,  who  wished 
to  pass  the  night  there,  entered  the  room.  After  tak- 
ing off  their  spurs,  and  laying  aside  their  cloaks,  one 
of  them  put  down  on  the  table  beside  him  an  unbound 
volume,  which  immediately  caught  the  eye  of  the 
knight.  "  What  book  is  that  ?  "  said  he. — "  An  expo- 
sition of  some  gospels  and  epistles  by  Doctor  Luther," 
replied  the  merchant :  "  it  has  just  appeared." — "  I 
shall  soon  have  it,"  replied  the  knight. 

The  host,  at  this  moment,  announced  supper.  The 
two  students,  fearing  the  expense  of  a  repast  in  com- 
pany with  the  chevalier  Ulrich  Von  Hiitten  and  the 
rich  merchants,  took  the  host  aside,  and  begged  him  to 
give  them  something  by  themselves.  "Along,  my 
friends,"  replied  the  host  of  the  Black  Bear,  "  take 
your  seat  at  table  beside  this  gentleman ;  I  will  charge 
moderately."  "  Come,"  said  the  knight,  "  I  will  settle 
the  charge." 

Diu-ing  the  repast  the  stranger  knight  made  niany 
simple  and  edifying  observations.  The  merchants  and 
students  were  rivetted,  and  paid  more  attention  to  his 
conversation  than  to  the  dishes  that  were  served  up. 
"Luther  must  either  be  an  angel  from  heaven,  or  a 
devil  of  hell,"  said  one  of  the  merchants  in  the 
course  of  the  conversation ;  and  then  added  :  "I  would 
willingly  give  ten  florins  to  meet  Luther  and  be  able 
to  confess  to  him." 

When  the  supper  was  ended  the  merchants  rose  up, 
and  the  two  Swiss  remained  alone  with  the  knight, 
who,  taking  a  large  glass  of  beer,  lifted  it  and  said 
gravely,  according  to  the  custom  of  the  country: 
"  Swiss,  one  glass  more  for  thanks."  As  Kessler  was 
going  to  take  the  glass,  the  stranger  put  it  down  and 
presented  him  with  one  filled  with  wine :  "  You  are 
not  accustomed  to  beer,"  said  he. 

He  then  rose  up,  threw  a  military  cloak  on  his 
shoulders,  shook  hands  with  the  students,  and  said  to 
them :  "  When  you  arrive  at  AVittemberg,  give  my 
compliments  to  Doctor  Jerome  Schurff." — "Willingly," 
replied  they;  "but  from  whom  shall  we  say?" — "Say 
simply,"  replied  he,  "  He  who  is  coming  salutes  you." 


276 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


On  this  he  walked  out,  leaving  them  in  admiration  at 
his  courtesy  and  meekness. 

Luther — for  it  was  indeed  he — continued  his  jour- 
ney. Be  it  remembered,  he  had  been  put  under  the 
ban  of  the  empire ;  whosoever  met  him  and  recog- 
nised him  might  lay  hands  upon  him.  But  at  the 
moment  when  he  was  executing  an  enterprise  which 
exposed  him  to  every  risk,  he  discoursed  gaily  with 
those  whom  he  met  on  his  way. 

It  was  not  because  he  was  under  any  illusion.  Ho 
saw  the  future  big  with  storms.  "  Satan,"  said  he, 
"  is  transported  with  rage,  and  all  around  me  meditate 
death  and  hell.  I  advance,  nevertheless,  and  throw 
myself  in  the  way  of  the  emperor  and  the  pope,  having 
none  to  defend  me  save  God  in  heaven.  On  the  part 
of  man,  power  has  been  given  to  every  one  to  slay  me 
wheresoever  I  am  found.  But  Christ  is  the  Lord  of 
all ;  if  it  is  His  will  that  I  be  slain,  so  be  it ! " 

The  same  day,  being  Ash- Wednesday,  Luther  arrived 
at  Borna,  a  small  town  near  Leipsic.  Feeling  that  he 
ought  to  give  notice  to  his  prince  of  the  bold  step 
which  he  was  going  to  take,  he  wrote  him  the  follow- 
ing letter  from  the  Conductor  Tavern,  where  he  had 
alighted : — 

"  Grace  and  peace  from  God  our  Father,  and  from 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

"Most  serene  Elector!  gracious  lord! — what  has 
happened  at  Wittemberg,  to  the  great  shame  of  the 
Gospel,  has  filled  me  with  such  grief,  that  if  I  were 
not  certain  of  the  truth  of  our  cause,  I  would  have 
despaired  of  it. 

"  Your  highness  knows — or  if  not,  please  to  be  in- 
formed— I  received  the  Gospel  not  from  men,  but 
from  heaven,  by  our  Lord  Jesns  Christ.  If  I  have 
asked  for  conferences,  it  was  not  because  I  had  doubts 
of  the  truth,  but  from  humility,  and  for  the  purpose 
of  winning  others.  But  since  my  humility  is  turned 
against  the  Gospel,  my  conscience  now  impels  me  to 
act  in  a  different  manner.  I  have  yielded  enough  to 
your  highness  in  exiling  myself  during  this  year.  The 
devil  knows  it  was  not  from  fear  I  did  it.  I  would 
have  entered  Worms  though  there  had  been  as  many 
devils  in  the  town  as  there  were  tiles  on  the  roofs. 
Now  Duke  George,  with  whom  your  highness  tries  so 
much  to  frighten  me,  is  far  less  to  be  feared  than  a 
single  devil.  Had  that  which  has  taken  place  at  Wit- 
temberg taken  ])lace  at  Leipsic,  (the  duke's  residence,) 
I  would  instantly  have  mounted  my  horse  and  gone 
thither,  even  though  (let  your  highness  pardon  the 
expression)  for  nine  days  it  should  have  done  nothing 
but  rain  Duke  Georges,  and  every  one  of  them  been 
nine  times  more  furious  than  he  is.  What  is  he  think- 
ing of  in  attacking  me  ?  Does  he  take  Christ,  my 
Lord,  for  a  man  of  straw?  The  Lord  be  pleased  to 
avert  the  dreadful  judgment  which  is  impending  over 
him! 

"  It  is  necessary  for  your  highness  to  know  that  I 
am  on  my  way  to  AVittemberg,  luider  a  more  powerful 
protection  than  that  of  an  elector.  I  have  no  thought 
of  solicitating  the  assistance  of  your  highness ;  so  far 
from  desiring  your  protection,  I  would  rather  give  you 
mine.  If  I  knew  that  your  highness  could  or  would 
protect  me,  I  would  not  come  to  Wittemberg.  No 
sword  can  give  any  aid  to  this  cause.     God  alone  must 


do  all  without  human  aid  or  co-operation.  He  who 
has  most  faith  is  the  best  protector.  Now,  I  observe 
that  your  highness  is  still  very  weak  in  the  faith. 

"  But  since  your  highness  desires  to  know  what  to 
do,  I  will  answer  with  all  humility.  Your  electoral 
highness  has  already  done  too  much,  and  ought  to  do 
nothing  at  all.  God  does  not  wish,  and  cannot  toler- 
ate either  your  cares  and  labours,  or  mine.  Let  your 
highness,  therefore,  act  accordingly. 

"  In  regard  to  what  concerns  myself,  your  highness 
must  act  as  elector.  You  must  allow  the  orders  of  his 
imperial  majesty  to  be  executed  in  your  towns  and 
rural  districts.  You  must  not  throw  any  difficulty  in 
the  way,  should  it  be  wished  to  apprehend  or  slay  me ; 
for  none  must  oppose  the  powers  that  be  save  He  who 
established  them. 

"Let  your  highness,  then,  leave  the  gates  open,  and 
respect  safe-conducts,  should  my  enemies  themselves, 
or  their  envoys,  enter  the  states  of  your  highness  in 
search  of  me.  In  this  way  you  will  avoid  all  em- 
barrassment and  danger. 

"  I  have  written  this  letter  in  haste,  that  you  may 
not  be  disconcerted  on  learning  my  arrival.  He  with 
whom  I  have  to  deal  is  a  different  person  from  Duke 
George.  He  knows  me  well,  and  I  know  something 
of  Him. 

"Borna,  the  Conductor  Hotel,  Ash-Wednesday,  1522. 
"  Your  electoral  highness's  most  humble  servant, 
"Martin  Luther." 

Thus  Luther  was  drawing  near  to  Wittemberg.  He 
wrote  to  the  prince ;  but  not  to  apologize.  Immoveable 
confidence  filled  his  heart.  He  saw  the  hand  of  God 
in  the  cause,  and  this  sufficed  him.  Never,  perhaps, 
was  the  heroism  of  faith  more  conspicuously  displayed. 
One  of  the  editions  of  Luther's  works  has  on  the  mar- 
gin these  words:  "This  is  a  marvellous  pi-oduction  of 
the  third  and  last  Elias." 

On  Friday,  the  7th  March,  Luther  again  entered 
Wittemberg,  having  been  five  days  in  coming  from 
Eisenach.  Professors,  students,  citizens,  all  gave  full 
utterance  to  their  joy.  They  had  recovered  the  pilot 
who  alone  could  bring  off  the  ship  from  the  shallows 
on  which  it  had  been  cast. 

The  elector,  who  was  with  his  court  at  Lochau,  was 
much  affected  on  reading  Luther's  letter.  He  felt 
desirous  to  defend  him  before  the  diet,  and  wrote  to 
Schurff:  "Let  him  send  me  a  letter  explaining  his 
motives  for  returoing  to  Wittemberg ;  and  let  him  say 
also  in  it  that  he  returned  without  my  permission." 
Luther  agreed  to  do  so. 

"  I  am  ready,"  wrote  he  to  the  prince,  "  to  endure 
the  displeasure  of  your  liighness  and  the  anger  of  the 
whole  world.  Are  not  the  inhabitants  of  Wittemberg 
my  brood?  Has  not  God  entrusted  them  to  me? 
And  am  not  I  bound  to  expose  myself  to  death  for 
them  ?  I  fear,  moreover,  the  breaking  out  in  Germany 
of  some  great  revolution  by  which  God  will  punish  our 
country.  Let  your  highness  be  well  assured  that  the 
decision  in  heaven  has  been  very  different  from  that  at 
Nuremberg."  This  letter  was  written  the  very  day  of 
Luther's  arrival. 

The  next  day,  being  the  eve  of  the  fii-st  Sunday  of 
Lent,  Luther  repaired  to  the  house  of  Jerome  Schurff, 
where  Melancthon,  Jonas,  Amsdorff,  and  Augustine 


LUTHER'S  SERMON  AT  WITTEMBERG. 


2V7 


Schurff,  were  met.  Luther  eagerly  asked  them  many 
questions;  auil  they  were  informing  him  of  all  that  liad 
taken  jilace,  when  it  was  announced  that  two  foreign 
students  wished  to  speak  to  Doctor  Jerome.  On  ap- 
pearing in  the  midst  of  this  meeting  of  doctors,  the  two 
youths  of  St.  Gall  were  at  first  abashed;  but  they  soon 
recovered  on  perceiving  among  them  the  knight  of  the 
Black  Bear,  who  immediately  went  up  to  them,  ac- 
costed them  as  old  acquaintances,  smiled  to  them,  and 
pointing  with  his  finger  to  one  of  the  doctors,  said: 
"That  is  Philip  Melancthon,  of  whom  I  spoke  to  you." 
In  honour  of  the  meeting  at  Jena,  the  two  Swiss  spent 
the  whole  day  with  the  doctors  of  Wittembcrg. 

One  great  thought  occupied  the  reformer,  and  made 
him  forget  the  joy  he  felt  at  being  again  in  the  midst 
of  his  friends.  No  doubt  the  theatre  on  which  he  now 
appeared  was  obscure;  it  was  in  a  small  town  of 
Saxony  that  he  was  going  to  raise  his  voice,  and  yet 
his  undertaking  had  all  the  importance  of  an  event 
which  was  to  influence  the  destinies  of  the  world. 
Many  nations  and  many  ages  were  to  feel  its  effects. 
The  point  to  be  determined  was,  whether  this  doctrine, 
which  he  had  drawn  from  the  Word  of  God,  and 
which  was  destined  to  exert  so  powerful  an  influence 
on  the  future  progress  of  humanity,  would  be  stronger 
than  the  principles  of  destruction  which  threatened  its 
existence ;  whether  it  was  possible  to  reform  without 
destroying,  and  to  pave  the  way  for  further  progress 
without  destroying  that  already  made.  To  silence 
fanatics  in  the  first  heat  of  enthusiasm ;  to  master  a 
whole  niultitudc  broken  loose;  to  calm  them  down,  and 
bring  them  back  to  order,  peace,  and  truth ;  to  break 
the  force  of  this  impetuous  torrent  which  was  tlu-eaten- 
ing  to  throw  down  the  rising  edifice  of  the  Reforma- 
tion, and  scatter  its  wrecks  around  :  such  was  the  work 
for  which  Luther  had  retiu-ned  to  Wittemberg.  But 
would  his  influence  be  sufficient  ?  This  events  only 
could  determine. 

The  soul  of  the  reformer  shuddered  at  the  thought 
of  the  combat  which  awaited  him.  He  stood  up  like 
a  lion  goaded  on  to  battle,  and  shaking  his  bushy  mane : 
'•Now  is  the  time,"  said  he,  "to  trample  Satan  under 
foot,  and  combat  the  angel  of  darkness.  If  our  adver- 
saries retire  not  of  their  own  accord,  Christ  will  con- 
strain them.  "We  are  the  masters  of  life  and  death, 
we  who  believe  in  the  Master  of  life  and  death." 

•But  at  the  same  time  the  impetuous  reformer,  as  if 
subdued  by  a  higher  power,  refused  to  make  use  of  the 
anathemas  and  thunders  of  the  Word,  and  became  a 
lumiblo  pastor,  a  meek  shepherd  of  souls.  "  It  is  by 
the  Word,"  said  he,  "that  we  must  fight;  by  the  Word 
overturn  and  destroy  what  has  been  established  by 
violence.  I  i\m  unwilling  to  employ  force  against  the 
superstitious  or  the  unbelieving.  Let  him  who  believes 
approach  ;  let  him  who  believes  not  stand  aloof.  None 
ought  to  bo  constrained.  Liberty  is  of  the  essence  of 
faith." 

Tlie  next  day  was  Sabbath  ;  aud  on  that  day,  in  the 
church,  in  the  pulpit,  the  people  were  again  to  behold 
the  teaclier  whom  for  nearly  a  year  the  Wartburg  had 
concealed  from  every  eye.  The  news  spread  in  Wit- 
temberg: Luther  is  returned — Luther  is  going  to  preach. 
These  news,  passing  from  mouth  to  mouth,  were  in 
themselves  a  powerful    diversion   to   the    notions  by 


which  the  people  had  been  led  astray.  The  hero  of 
AVorms  is  going  again  to  appear.  Crowds  press  for- 
ward from  all  directions ;  and  on  Sabbath  morning 
the  church  was  filled  with  an  attentive  and  excited 
audience. 

Luther  divines  the  feeling  of  his  hearers ;  he  mounts 
the  pulpit,  and  there  stands  in  presence  of  the  flock 
whom  he  was  wont  to  lead  like  one  gentle  sheep,  but 
who  had  now  broken  loose  and  assumed  the  appearance 
of  an  untamed  bull.  His  discourse  is  simple,  yet  dig- 
nified, replete  at  once  with  force  and  mildness.  He 
might  have  been  described  as  a  tender  parent  just 
returned  to  his  children,  inquiring  how  they  have  be- 
haved, and  telling  tlioni  kindly  of  what  he  had  heard 
respecting  thcni.  He  candidly  acknowledges  the  pro- 
gress which  they  had  nuule  in  the  faith.  Having  thus 
prepared  and  gained  their  minds,  he  continues  in  the 
following  terms : — 

"  But  there  must  be  more  than  faith — there  must  be 
charity.  AVhen  a  man  with  a  sword  in  his  hand  is  by 
himself,  it  is  of  no  consequence  whether  or  not  he 
keeps  it  in  the  scabbard  ;  but  if  he  is  in  the  midst  of  a 
crowd,  he  must  act  in  such  a  manner  as  not  to  hurt 
any  one. 

"How  does  a  mother  do  with  her  child?  At  first 
she  gives  it  milk,  and  thereafter  the  most  easily  digested 
food.  AVere  she  to  begin  by  giving  it  flesh  and  wine, 
what  would  the  I'esult  be  ?     .     .     . 

"  So  ought  we  to  do  with  our  brethren.  Have  you 
had  enough  of  the  breast,  ray  friend? — very  well; 
allow  your  brother  to  have  it  as  long  as  you  have  had 
it  yourself. 

"Behold  the  sun.  .  .  .  There  are  two  things 
he  gives  us — light  and  heat.  There  is  no  king  so 
powerful  as  to  be  able  to  interrupt  his  rays:  they  come 
to  us  in  a  straight  line  ;  but  the  heat  radiates  and  trans- 
fuses itself  in  all  directions.  Thus  faith  ought  to  be 
like  light,  straight  aud  inflexible ;  but  charity  should, 
like  heat,  radiate  in  all  directions,  and  bend  to  meet 
all  the  wants  of  our  brethren." 

Luther  having  thus  prepared  his  heai'ers,  comes  to 
still  closer  quarters. 

"  The  abolition  of  the  mass,  you  say,  is  conformable 
to  Scripture.  Agreed.  But  what  order,  what  decorum  i 
have  you  observed  ?  You  ought  to  have  presented  I 
fervent  prayers  to  the  Lord ;  you  ought  to  have  applied 
to  constituted  authority,  which,  in  that  case,  might 
have  been  able  to  perceive  that  the  work  was  of 
God."     .     .     . 

Thus  spake  Luther.  The  bold  man  who  had  at 
Worms  withstood  the  princes  of  the  earth,  produced  a 
powerful  impression  by  these  words  of  wisdom  and 
peace.  Carlstadt  and  the  prophets  of  Zwickau,  who 
for  some  weeks  had  been  so  high  and  mighty,  and  who 
had  agitated  and  lorded  it  over  Wittemberg,  became 
dwarfs  when  placed  beside  the  prisoner  of  the  Wart-  j 
burg. 

"The  mass,"  he  continues,  "is  a  bad  thing, — God  is 
inimical  to  it, — it  must  be  abolished ;  and  I  could  wish 
that  over  the  whole  world  it  were  supplanted  by  the 
supper  of  the  Gospel.  But  let  nobody  be  driven  from 
it  by  violence.  The  afffcir  must  be  committed  to  God. 
His  Word  must  act,  not  we.  And  -why!  you  will  say. 
Because  I  do  not  hold  the  hearts  of  men  in  my  hand. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  EEFOEMATION. 


as  the  potter  does  the  clay.  We  have  a  right  to  speak, 
but  not  to  act.  Let  us  preach — the  rest  belongs  to 
God.  If  I  employ  force,  what  shall  I  obtain?  Gri- 
mace, appearances,  apishness,  human  ordinances,  hypo- 
crisy. .  .  .  But  there  will  be  no  sincerity  of  heart, 
no  faith,  no  charity.  Any  work  in  which  these  three 
things  are  wanting,  wants  everything,  and  I  would  not 
give  a  pin  for  it. 

"  The  first  thing  to  be  gained  from  people  is  their 
heart,  and  for  this  it  is  necessary  to  preach  the  Gospel. 
Then  the  Word  will  descend  on  one  heart  to-day,  and 
on  another  to-morrow,  and  operate  in  such  a  way  that 
each  will  withdraw  from  the  mass,  and  abandon  it. 
God  does  more  by  His  mere  "Word  than  you  and  I  and 
all  the  world  could  do  by  uniting  our  utmost  strength. 
God  takes  possession  of  the  heart;  and  when  the  heart 
is  taken  everything  is  taken. 

"  I  do  not  say  this  in  order  to  re-establish  the  mass. 
Since  it  is  down,  let  it,  in  God's  name,  so  remain. 
But  was  the  matter  gone  about  as  it  ought  to  have 
been  ?  Paul,  having  one  day  arrived  at  Athens,  a 
great  city,  found  altars  erected  to  false  gods.  He  went 
from  one  to  another,  viewed  them  all,  aud  touched 
none.  But  he  quietly  repaired  to  the  market-place, 
and  declared  to  the  people  that  all  their  gods  were  only 
idols.  His  words  took  possession  of  their  hearts,  and 
the  idols  fell  without  being  touched  by  Paul. 

"  I  wish  to  speak,  to  preach,  to  -(vrite ;  but  I  wish 
not  to  constrain  any  one,  for  faith  is  a  voluntary  mat- 
ter. See  what  I  have  done !  I  have  withstood  the 
pope,  indulgences,  and  the  papists ;  but  without  tumult 
and  violence.  I  have  put  forward  the  Word  of  God, 
have  preached,  have  written ;  but  this  is  all  I  have 
done.  Aud  while  I  was  asleep,  or  seated  in  a  friendly 
way  at  table  with  Amsdorff  and  Melancthon,  convers- 
ing with  them  over  a  pot  of  Wittemberg  beer,  the 
Word  which  I  had  preached  overthrew  the  papacy, 
assailing  it  more  effectually  than  was  over  done  by 
prince  or  emperor.  I  have  done  nothing — the  Word 
alone  has  done  all.  Had  I  chosen  to  appeal  to  force, 
perhaps  Germany  might  have  been  bathed  in  blood. 
But  what  would  have  been  the  consequence?  Ruin 
and  desolation  to  soul  and  body.  I  therefore  remained 
quiet,  and  allowed  the  Word  itself  to  have  free  coiu-se 
in  the  world.  Do  you  know  what  the  devil  thinks 
when  he  sees  recourse  had  to  force  in  order  to  spread 
the  Gospel  among  men  ?  Seated,  with  his  arms  across, 
behind  the  flames  of  hell,  Satan,  with  malignant  leer 
and  frightful  smile,  says:  'Ah!  how  sagely  these  fools 
are  playing  my  game !'  But  when  he  sees  the  Word 
running  and  wrestling  alone  on  the  field  of  battle,  then 
it  is  he  feels  uueasy,  and  his  knees  tremble ;  he  mut- 
ters, and  swoons  with  terror." 

Luther  again  appeared  in  the  pulpit  on  Tuesday;  his 
powerful  eloquence  again  resounded  in  the  midst  of  a 
deeply  impressed  audience.  He  preached  successively 
on  Wednesday,  Thursday,  Friday,  Saturday,  and  Sab- 
bath. He  passed  in  review  the  destruction  of  images, 
the  distinction  of  meats,  the  observances  at  the  Supper, 
the  i-estoration  of  the  cup,  and  the  abolition  of  confes- 
sion. He  shewed  that  those  poiuts  were  still  more  in- 
different than  the  mass,  and  that  the  authors  of  the 
disorders  which  had  taken  place  at  Wittemberg  had 
grossly  abused  their  liberty.     He  gave  utterance  alter- 


nately to  accents  of  Christian  charity  and  to  bursts  of 
holy  indignation. 

In  particular,  he  inveighed  forcibly  against  those 
who  communicated  thoughtlessly  at  the  Lord's  Supper. 
"What  makes  the  Christian,"  said  he,  "is  not  the 
external  eating ;  but  the  internal  aud  spiritual  eating 
which  is  produced  by  faith,  and  without  which  all 
forms  whatsoever  are  only  show  and  vain  grimace. 
Now  this  faith  consists  in  firmly  believing  that  Jesus 
Christ  is  the  Son  of  God ;  that  being  ladened  with  our 
sins  and  iniquities,  aud  having  borne  them  upon  the 
cross,  He  is  himself  the  sole,  the  all-powerful  expia- 
tion ;  that  He  is  now  continually  in  the  presence  of 
God ;  that  He  reconciles  us  with  the  Father,  and  has 
given  us  the  sacrament  of  His  body,  in  order  to  con- 
firm our  faith  in  this  ineffable  mercy.  If  I  believe 
these  things  God  is  my  defender;  with  Him  I  defy 
sin,  death,  hell,  devils, — they  cannot  do  me  any  harm, 
nor  even  ruffle  a  hair  of  my  head.  This  spiritual 
bread  is  the  consolation  of  the  afflicted,  the  cure  of  the 
sick,  the  life  of  the  djdng,  the  food  of  the  hungry,  and 
the  treasure  of  the  poor.  He,  then,  who  is  not  sorry 
for  his  sins,  ought  not  to  come  to  this  altar:  what 
would  he  do  there?  Ah!  let  ovu"  conscience  accuse  us, 
let  our  hearts  be  torn  at  the  thought  of  our  faults,  and 
we  will  not  approach  the  holy  sacrament  with  so  much 
rashness." 

Crowds  ceased  not  to  fill  the  temple ;  numbers  even 
flocked  from  the  neighbouring  towns  to  hear  the  new 
Elias.  Capito,  among  others,  came  and  spent  two 
days  at  Wittemberg,  and  heard  two  of  the  doctor's 
sermons.  Never  had  Luther  and  the  chaplain  of  Car- 
dinal AJbert  been  so  much  of  one  mind.  Melancthon, 
the  magistrates,  the  professors,  and  all  the  people,  were 
overjoyed.  Schurff,  delighted  at  this  issue  of  an  affair 
which  promised  to  be  so  serious,  hastened  to  acquaint 
the  elector,  to  whom  he  wrote,  Friday,  loth  March, 
(the  day  on  which  Luther  had  delivered  his  sixth  dis- 
course :)  "  What  joy  the  return  of  Doctor  Martin 
diffuses  among  us !  His  discoiu-ses,  by  the  help  of 
Divine  grace,  are  daily  bringing  back  our  poor  erring 
souls  into  the  way  of  truth.  It  is  clear  as  the  sun  that 
the  Spirit  of  God  is  in  him,  and  that  by  His  special 
appointment  he  has  returned  to  Wittemberg." 

In  fact,  these  discourses  are  models  of  popular  elo- 
quence, though  not  of  the  sort  which  aroused  men's 
minds  in  the  days  of  Demosthenes,  or  even  Savonarola. 
The  task  which  the  orator  of  Wittemberg  had  to  per- 
form was  more  difficult.  It  is  easier  to  rouse  a  wild 
beast  than  to  calm  its  fury.  The  thing  required  was 
to  appease  a  fanatical  multitude ;  to  tame  passions 
which  had  been  let  loose;  and  this  Luther  did.  In 
his  eight  discourses,  the  reformer  did  not  allow  a  single 
painful  allusion  to  escape, — a  single  word  calculated  to 
offeud  the  authors  of  the  disturbances.  But  the  more 
moderate,  the  stronger  he  was ;  the  greater  the 
delicacy  towards  those  who  had  gone  astray,  the  more 
he  avenged  insulted  truth.  How  could  the  oeople  of 
Wittemberg  resist  his  powerful  eloquence  ?  The  dis- 
courses which  recommend  moderation  are  usually  attri- 
buted to  moderation,  policy,  or  fear.  Here  there  was 
nothing  of  the  kind.  Luther  appeared  before  the 
people  of  Wittemberg,  braving  the  excommunication 
of  the  pope  and  the  proscription  of  the  emperor.     He 


CONFERENCE  WITH  THE  PROPHETS. 


279 


returned,  tlioiijrh  forbidden  by  tlic  elector,  who  de- 
clared liis  inability  to  defend  him.  Even  at  "Worms 
Luther  had  not  shewn  more  courage.  lie  was  con- 
fronting the  most  threatening  dangers,  and  accordingly 
his  voice  was  not  disregarded.  This  man  who  braved 
the  scaffold  was  entitled  to  exhort  others  to  submis- 
sion, lie  may  boldly  preach  obedience  to  God,  who, 
in  doing  so,  exposes  himself  to  every  kind  of  perse- 
cution from  man.  At  Luther's  preaching  objections 
vanished,  tumult  was  appeased,  sedition  ceased  its 
clamour,  and  the  citizens  of  Witteraberg  returned  to 
their  quiet  homes. 

Gabriel  Didymus,  an  Augustine  monk,  and  the  one 
who  had  been  most  enthusiastic,  had  not  lost  a  word 
spoken  by  the  reformer.  '•  Dont  you  think  Luther  an 
admirable  teacher?"  asked  a  hearer  under  deep  emo- 
tion. "  Ah !"  replied  Gabriel,  '"methinks  I  hear  the 
voice  not  of  a  man,  but  an  angel."  Shortly  after  he 
openly  acknowledged  his  error.  "  He  has  become 
another  man,"  said  Luther. 

The  same  effect  was  not  at  first  produced  on  Carl- 
stadt.  Despising  study,  and  affectedly  visiting  the 
workshops  of  mechanics,  that  he  might  there  get  a 
knowledge  of  the  Scriptures,  he  felt  hurt  when  he  saw 
his  work  crumbling  to  pieces  before  the  appearance  of 
Luther.  In  his  eyes  this  was  e(iuivalent  to  an  arrest 
laid  on  the  Reformation  itself.  Accordingly  he  had 
always  a  depressed,  gloomy,  and  discontented  look. 
He,  however,  sacrificed  his  self-love,  to  peace,  sup- 
pressed his  vindictive  feelings,  was  reconciled,  appar- 
ently at  least,  with  his  colleague,  and  shortly  after 
resumed  his  course  at  the  university. 

The  principal  prophets  happened  not  to  be  at  Wit- 
temberg  when  Luther  arrived.  Nicolas  Storch  had 
been  scouring  the  country;  and  Mark  Stubuer  had 
quitted  the  hospitable  roof  of  Melancthon.  It  may  be 
their  prophetical  spirit  had  vanished,  and  they  had 
neither  voice  nor  answer,  from  the  moment  they  learned 
that  this  new  Elias  was  bending  his  steps  towards  this 
new  Carmel.  The  old  schoolmaster,  Cellarius,  had 
been  left  alone.  Meanwhile,  Stubner,  having  been 
informed  that  the  sheep  of  his  flock  were  dispersed, 
returned  in  all  haste.  Those  who  had  remained  faith- 
ful to  the  '"heavenly  prophesy,"  gathered  round  their 
master,  relating  Luther's  discourses  to  him,  and  asking 
with  uneasiness  what  they  were  to  think.  Stubner 
exhorted  them  to  remain  fii-m  in  their  faith.  "Let 
him  shew  himself,"  exclaimed  Cellarius, — "let  him 
grant  us  a  conference — let  him  allow  us  to  explain  our 
doctrine,  and  we  shall  see."     .     .     . 

Luther  had  little  inclination  to  meet  with  these  men  ; 
he  knew  that  there  was  in  them  a  violent,  impatient, 
haughty  spirit,  which  could  not  endure  warnings,  how- 
ever charitably  given,  and  who  claimed  submission  to 
their  every  word  as  a  sovereign  authority.  Such  are 
the  enthusiasts  of  all  times.  Still,  as  an  interview 
was  asked,  the  doctor  could  not  refuse  it.  Besides,  it 
might  be  useful  to  the  simple  ones  of  the  flock  to  un- 
mask the  imposture  of  the  prophets.  The  conference 
took  place.  Stubner  spoke  first,  and  explained  how 
he  proposed  to  renew  the  Church  and  change  the 
world.  Luther  listened  with  great  calmness.  "No- 
thing that  you  have  said,"  replied  he,  at  length, 
gravely,    "rests   on   the   Holy  Scriptures.     It   is   all 


fable."  At  tliese  words  Cellarius  loses  all  self-pos- 
session ;  he  raises  his  voice,  gesticulates  like  a  madman, 
stamps  and  strikes  the  table  that  was  before  him ;  gets 
into  a  passion,  and  exclaims  that  it  is  an  insult  to  pre- 
sume to  speak  thus  to  a  man  of  God.  Then  Luther 
resumes :  "  St.  Paul  declares  that  the  proofs  of  his 
apostleship  were  manifested  by  miracles  :  prove  yours 
by  miracles." — "AVe  shall,"  replied  the  prophets. 
"The  God  wliom  I  worship,"  replied  Luther,  "will 
keep  a  bridle  hand  on  your  gods."  Stubner,  who  had 
remained  more  calm,  fixing  his  eyes  on  the  refoi-mer, 
said  to  him  with  an  air  of  inspiration :  "  Martin  Luther, 
I  am  going  to  declare  to  you  what  is  now  passing  in 
your  soul.  You  are  beginning  to  think  that  my  doc- 
trine is  true."  Luther,  after  a  few  moments'  silence, 
replied:  "The  Lord  rebuke  thee,  Satan."  At  these 
words  all  the  prophets  are  transported.  "The  Spirit! 
the  Spirit!"  they  exclaim.  Luther,  with  that  cool 
disdain,  and  that  cutting,  yet  familiar  language,  which 
was  one  of  his  characteristics,  says :  "  I  care  not  a  fig 
for  your  spirit."  The  clamour  is  redoubled.  Cellarius 
was  especially  violent.  He  raged,  roared,  and  foamed. 
Not  a  word  more  could  be  heard.  At  length  the  pro- 
phets withdrew,  and  the  same  day  quitted  Wlttem- 
berg. 

Thus  Luther  had  accomplished  the  work  for  which 
he  had  left  his  retreat.  He  had  withstood  fanaticism, 
and  chased  from  the  bosom  of  the  renovated  Church 
the  enthusiasm  and  disorder  which  were  trying  to 
invade  it.  If  with  one  hand  the  Keformatiou  over- 
threw the  musty  decretals  of  Rome,  with  the  other  it 
repelled  the  pretensions  of  the  mystics,  and  secured 
the  living  and  immutable  Word  of  God  in  possession 
of  the  ten-itory  which  it  had  conquered.  The  char- 
acter of  the  Reformation  was  thus  well  established. 
It  behoved  constantly  to  move  between  these  two 
extremes,  equally  distant  from  the  convulsive  throes 
of  fanatics  and  the  lifeless  state  of  the  papacy. 

A  population  aroused,  misled,  and  broken  loose  from 
all  restraint,  is  appeased,  becomes  calm  and  submissive, 
and  the  most  perfect  tranquillity  is  restored  to  a  city 
which,  a  few  days  before,  was  like  a  raging  sea. 

Complete  liberty  was,  moreover,  established  at  Wit- 
temberg.  Luther  continued  to  reside  in  the  convent, 
and  to  wear  the  monastic  dress ;  but  every  one  was 
free  to  do  other^rise.  Communicants,  in  taking  the 
Supper,  might  content  themselves  with  a  general,  or 
ask  a  particular  absolution.  One  established  principle 
was  to  reject  nothing  but  what  was  opposed  to  a  clear 
and  formal  declaration  of  the  Holy  Scriptures.  This 
was  not  indifference.  On  the  contrary,  religion  was 
thus  brought  back  to  what  constitutes  its  essence. 
Religious  sentiment  was  drawn  away  from  accessory 
forms  when  it  had  been  wellnigh  lost,  and  again  placed 
on  its  true  basis.  Thus  the  Reformation  was  saved, 
and  doctrine  could  continue  to  be  developed  in  the 
Church  in  accordance  with  charity  and  truth. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Translation  of  the  New  Testament— Faith  and  Scripture— Opposition- 
Importance  of  Luther's  Publication— Need  of  a  Systematic  Exposition 
— Melancthon's  "  Common  Places  "—Original  Sin— Salvation— Free-will 
— EU'ect  of  the  "  Common  Places." 

No  sooner  was  tbe  calm  re-established  than  the  refor- 
mer turned  towards  his  dear  Melancthon,  and  asks  his 
assistance  in  putting  the  finishing  hand  to  the  version 
of  the  New  Testament  which  he  had  brought  from  the 
Wartburg.  Melancthon,  as  early  as  1519,  had  laid 
down  the  grand  principle,  that  the  Fathers  ought  to  be 
explained  according  to  Scripture,  and  not  Scripture 
according  to  the  Fathers.  Continuing  thoroughly  to 
investigate  the  writings  of  the  New  Testament,  he  felt 
at  once  enraptured  with  their  simplicity,  and  struck 
with  their  profundity.  "Here  only,"  was  the  open 
declaration  of  one  so  familiar  with  all  the  philosophers 
of  antiquity — "  Here  only  is  found  the  true  food  of  the 
soul."  Hence  he  gladly  responded  to  Luther's  invita- 
tion, and  thereafter  the  two  friends  spent  many  long 
hours  together  in  studying  and  translating  the  inspired 
Word.  Often  did  they  interrupt  their  laborious  re- 
searches to  give  vent  to  their  admu-ation.  "Reason 
thinks,"  said  Luther,  "Oh!  if  I  could  only  once  hear 
God! — to  hear  Him  I  would  run  to  the  end  of  the 
world.  .  .  .  Listen,  then,  O  man,  my  brother! 
God,  the  creator  of  heaven  and  earth,  is 
speaking  to  you." 

The  printing  of  the  New  Testament  was  begun  and 
carried  on  with  unexampled  zeal.  It  seemed  as  if  the 
workmen  themselves  felt  the  importance  of  the  work 
which  they  were  preparing.  Three  presses  were 
employed,  and  ten  thousand  sheets  were  printed  daily. 

At  length,  on  the  21st  September,  appeared  the  com- 
plete edition  of  three  thousand  copies,  in  two  volumes, 
folio,  with  this  simple  title:  " The  New  Testament — 
German — Wittemberg."  It  bore  no  human  name. 
Every  German  coiUd  thenceforth  procm-e  the  Word  of 
God  for  a  moderate  sum.' 

The  new  translation,  written  in  the  very  spirit  of 
the  sacred  books,  in  a  language  still  recent,  and  dis- 
plaj-ing  its  many  beauties  for  the  first  time,  seized, 
enraptured,  and  deeply  impressed  the  humblest  of  the 
people,  as  well  as  the  most  elevated  classes.  It  was  a 
national  work ;  it  was  the  people's  book ;  it  was  more, 
it  was  truly  the  Book  of  God.  Even  enemies  could 
not  withhold  their  approbation  of  this  admirable  work, 
while  some  indiscreet  friends  of  the  Reformation, 
struck  with  the  beauty  of  the  work,  imagined  that 
they  beheld  in  it  a  second  inspiration.  This  translation 
did  more  to  propagate  Christian  piety  than  all  the 
other  writings  of  Luther.  The  work  of  the  sixteenth 
century  was  thus  placed  on  a  basis  which  could  not  be 
shaken.  The  Bible  given  to  the  people  brought  back 
the  human  mind,  which  for  ages  had  been  wandering 
in  the  tortuous  labyrinth  of  scholastics,  to  the  divine 
source  of  salvation.  Accordingly,  the  success  of  the 
work  was  prodigious.  In  a  short  time  all  the  copies 
were  disposed  of.  A  second  edition  appeared  in 
December;  and  in  1533,  seventeen  editions  of  Luther's 

1  A  florin  and  a-half,  about  half-a-crown  sterlins. 


New  Testament  had  been  printed  at  Wittemberg ; 
thirteen  at  Augsburg;  twelve  at  Bale;  one  at  Erfurt; 
one  at  Grimma;  one  at  Leipsic;  thirteen  at  Strasburg. 
.  .  .  Such  were  the  mighty  engines  which  lifted 
and  transformed  the  Church  and  the  world. 

The  first  edition  of  the  New  Testament  was  still  at 
press  when  Luther  engaged  in  the  translation  of  the 
Old  Testament.  This  work,  begun  in  1522,  was 
prosecuted  without  interruption.  It  was  published  in 
parts  as  it  was  finished,  in  order  more  rapidly  to  satisfy 
the  impatience  which  was  manifested  in  all  quarters, 
and  make  it  more  easy  for  the  poor  to  purchase  it. 

From  Scripture  and  faith,  two  sources,  which,  in 
substance,  are  only  one,  evangelical  life  flowed,  and  is 
still  diffused  in  the  world.  These  two  principles 
combated  two  fundamental  errors;  faith  was  opposed 
to  the  Pelagian  tendency  of  Catholicism ;  Scripture,  to 
the  tradition  and  authority  of  Rome.  Scripture  led  to 
faith,  and  faith  led  back  to  Scripture.  "  Man  cannot 
do  any  meritorious  work :  the  free  grace  of  God,  which 
he  receives  by  faith  in  Christ,  alone  saves  him."  Such 
was  the  doctrine  proclaimed  in  Christendom ;  aud  the 
tendency  of  this  doctrine  was  to  urge  Christians  to  the 
study  of  Scripture.  In  fact,  if  faith  in  Christ  is  every- 
thing in  Chi-istianity — if  the  practices  and  ordinances 
of  the  Church  are  nothing — what  we  ought  to  adhere 
to  is  not  the  teaching  of  the  Church,  but  the  teaching 
of  Jesus  Christ.  The  tie  which  unites  to  Christ  will 
become  all  in  all  to  the  believer.  What  cares  he  for 
the  external  tie  which  unites  him  to  an  external 
Church  enslaved  to  human  opinions?  .  .  .  Thus, 
as  the  doctrine  of  the  Bible  had  urged  Luther's  con- 
temporaries towards  Jesus  Christ,  so  the  love  which 
they  had  for  Jesus  Christ  in  its  turn  urged  them 
towards  the  Bible.  They  returned  to  Scripture,  not,  as 
is  imagined  in  our  da}',  from  a  philosophical  principle, 
from  a  feeling  of  doubt,  or  longing  for  investigation, 
but  because  they  found  in  it  the  Word  of  Him  whom 
they  loved.  "  You  have  preached  Christ  to  us,"  said 
they  to  the  reformer,  "  enable  us  now  to  hear  His 
own  voice."  And  they  eagerly  laid  hold  of  the  sheets 
which  were  delivered  to  them  as  they  would  a  letter 
come  down  from  heaven. 

But  if  the  Bible  was  thus  joyfully  received  by  those 
who  loved  Christ,  it  was  repulsed  with  hatred  by  those 
who  preferred  the  traditions  and  practices  of  men. 
Violent  persecution  awaited  this  work  of  the  Reformer. 
On  hearing  of  Luther's  publication,  Rome  trembled. 
The  pen  which  transcribed  the  sacred  oracles  was  the 
realization  of  that  which  the  Elector  Frederick  had 
seen  in  his  dream,  and  which,  reaching  as  far  as  the 
Seven  Hills,  had  caused  the  tiara  of  the  papacy  to  totter. 
The  monk  in  his  cell,  and  the  prince  on  his  throne, 
sent  forth  a  cry  of  rage.  Ignorant  priests  shuddered 
at  the  thought  that  every  citizen,  erery  peasant  even, 
would  now  be  in  a  condition  to  debate  with  them  on 
sacred  subjects.  The  King  of  England  denounced  the 
work  to  the  Elector  Frederick,  and  Duke  George  of 
Saxony.  But,  previous  to  this,  as  early  as  November, 
the  duke  had  enjoined  all  his  subjects  to  deliver  every 
copy  of  Luther's  New  Testament  into  the  hands  of  the 
magistrates.  Bavaria,  Brandenburg,  Austria,  all  the 
states  devoted  to  Rome,  issued  similar  decrees.  In 
some  towns  a  sacrilegious  pile  was  erected,  and  the 


rUBLICATIOX  OF  THE  NEW  TESTAMENT. 


2S1 


books  were  burnt  in  the  market-place.  Thus,  in  the 
sixteenth  century,  Rome  renewed  the  attempts  by 
which  Paganism  had  tried  to  destroy  the  religion  of 
Jesus  Christ  at  the  moment  when  the  empire  was 
escaping  from  priests  and  their  idols.  But  who  can 
arrest  the  triumphant  progress  of  the  Gospel?  " Even 
since  my  prohibition,"  wrote  Duke  George,  "  several 
thousand  copies  have  been  sold  and  read  in  my  states." 

God,  in  diffusing  His  AVord,  made  use  of  the  very 
hands  which  were  endeavouring  to  destroy  it.  The 
Catholic  theologians,  seeing  it  impossible  to  suppress 
the  reformer's  work,  published  the  New  Testament 
in  a  translation  of  their  own.  It  was  Luther's  transla- 
tion, with  occasional  corrections  by  the  editors.  No 
objection  was  made  to  the  reading  of  it.  Rome  knew 
not  as  yet  that,  wherever  the  "Word  of  God  is  estab- 
lished, her  power  is  iu  danger.  Joachim  of  Branden- 
burg gave  full  permission  to  his  subjects  to  read  any 
translation  of  the  Bible,  Latin  or  German,  provided  it 
came  not  from  "Wittcmbcrg.  The  inhabitants  of 
Germany,  those  of  Brandenburg  in  particular,  thus 
made  a  rapid  advance  in  the  knowledge  of  the  truth. 

The  publication  of  the  New  Testament  constitutes 
an  important  epoch  in  the  Reformation.  If  the  mar- 
riage of  Feldkirchcn  was  the  first  step  in  passing  from 
doctrine  to  practice,  if  the  abolition  of  monastic  vows 
was  the  second,  if  the  establishment  of  the  Lord's 
Supper  was  the  third,  the  publication  of  the  New 
Testament  was  perhaps  the  most  important  of  all.  It 
effected  a  complete  change  in  society — not  only  in  the 
l)resbytery  of  the  priest,  the  cell  of  the  monk,  and  the 
service  of  the  Church,  but  also  in  the  mansions  of  the 
great,  and  the  dwellings  both  of  the  citizens  in  towns, 
and  of  the  rural  population.  When  the  Bible  began  to 
be  read  in  the  households  of  Christendom,  Christendom 
was  changed.  There  were  thenceforth  new  customs, 
new  manners,  new  conversations,  a  new  life.  With 
the  publication  of  the  New  Testament  the  Reformation 
came  forth  from  the  school  and  the  Chiu-ch,  and  took 
possession  of  the  firesides  of  the  people. 

The  effect  produced  was  immense.  The  Christianity 
of  the  primitive  Church,  brought  forth  by  the  publica- 
tion of  the  Holy  Scriptures  from  the  oblivion  into 
which  it  had  fallen  for  ages,  was  thus  presented  to  the 
eyes  of  the  nation ;  and  this  fact  is  suflicicnt  to  justify 
the  attacks  which  had  been  made  upon  Rome.  The 
humblest  individuals,  provided  they  knew  the  German 
alphabet,  women,  and  mechanics,  (this  is  the  account 
given  by  a  contemporary,  a  great  enemy  of  the  Refor- 
mation.) read  the  New  Testament  with  avidity. 
Carrying  it  about  with  them,  they  soon  knew  it  by 
heart,  while  its  pages  gave  full  demonstration  of  the 
perfect  accordance  between  the  Reformation  of  Luther 
and  the  Revelation  of  God. 

Still,  it  was  only  by  piecemeal  that  the  doctrine 
of  the  Bible  and  of  the  Reformation  had,  till  then, 
been  established.  Some  one  truth  had  been  established 
iu  this  writing,  and  some  one  error  attacked  in  that. 
The  remains  of  the  ancient  edifice,  and  the  materials 
of  the  new,  lay  scattered  in  confusion  over  a  large  space 
of  ground;  but  the  new  edifice  itself  w;is  stUl  wanting. 
The  publication  of  the  New  Testameut  was  fitted  to 
supply  this  want.  The  Reformation,  on  receiving  this 
work,  could  say:  There  is  my  system!     But  as  every 


person  is  ready  to  maintain  that  the  system  he  holds  is 
that  of  the  Bible,  the  Reformation  behoved  to  give  a 
systematic  form  to  what  she  had  found  iu  Scripture. 
This  Melancthon  did  in  her  name. 

He  had  advanced  with  cautious  but  sure  steps  iu  his 
theological  career,  and  had  always  boldly  published  the 
results  of  his  inquiries.  So  early  as  1520,  he  had 
declared,  that  in  several  of  the  seven  sacraments  he  saw 
only  an  imitation  of  Jewish  ceremonies;  and,  in  the 
infallibility  of  the  pope,  only  an  arrogant  pretence, 
equally  at  variance  with  Scripture  aud  common  sense. 
"  To  combat  these  dogmas,"  said  he,  "  we  have  need 
of  more  than  oue  Hercules.''  Thus,  Melancthon  had 
arrived  at  the  same  point  with  Luther,  though  by  a 
calmer  aud  more  scientific  path.  The  moment  had 
arrived  when  it  behoved  him,  in  his  turn,  to  make  a 
confession  of  his  faith. 

Iu  1521,  during  Luther's  captivity,  his  celebrated 
work,  "On  the  (Jommon  Places  of  Theology,"  had 
presented  Christian  Europe  with  a  body  of  doctrine 
solidly  based,  and  admirably  proportioned.  A  simple 
and  majestic  system  was  exhibited  to  the  astonished 
view  of  the  new  generation.  The  translation  of  the. 
New  Testament  vindicated  the  Reformation  to  the 
common  people:  the  "  Common  Places  "  of  Melancthon 
vindicated  it  to  the  learned. 

The  Christian  Church  was  fifteen  centuries  old,  and 
no  similar  work  had  yet  appeared.  Abandoning  the 
ordinary  methods  of  scholastic  theology,  Luther's  friend 
at  length  presented  Christendom  with  a  theological 
system  derived  solely  from  Scriptm-e,  and  exhibiting  a 
spirit  of  life  and  intellect,  a  force  of  truth  and  sim- 
plicity of  expression  in  striking  contrast  with  the  subtle 
and  pedantic  systems  of  the  schools.  The  most  philo- 
sophical minds  aud  the  strictest  theologians  alike  agreed 
in  admiring  it. 

Erasmus  described  the  work  as  a  host  set  in  admir- 
able array  against  the  pharisaical  tjTanny  of  false 
teachers ;  and,  while  declaring  that  he  did  not  agree 
with  the  author  on  all  points,  he  added,  that  though 
he  had  always  loved  him,  he  never  loved  him  so  much 
as  after  reading  this  work.  "  So  true  is  it,"  says  Cal- 
vin, at  a  later  period,  iu  introducing  the  work  to 
France,  "  that,  in  treating  Christian  doctrine,  the 
greatest  simplicity  is  the  gi-eatest  virtue." 

But  none  was  so  much  overjoyed  as  Luther.  This 
work  was,  through  life,  the  object  of  his  admiration. 
Those  isolated  sounds  which,  in  the  deep  emotiou  of 
his  soul,  his  quivering  hand  had  drawn  from  the  harp 
of  the  prophets  and  apostles,  were  here  arranged  in 
enrapturing  harmony.  Those  scattered  stones,  which 
he  had  laboriously  quarried  out  of  the  sacred  volume, 
were  now  formed  into  a  majestic  building.  Hence,  he 
invariably  recommended  the  reading  of  this  work  to 
the  youths  who  came  to  prosecute  their  studies  at  Wit- 
tcmbcrg, saying  to  them:  "  If  you  would  be  theologians, 
read  Melancthon." 

According  to  jNIelancthon,  a  deep  conviction  of  the 
misery  to  which  man  has  been  reduced  by  sin,  is  the 
basis  on  which  the  structure  of  Christian  theology  must 
be  reared.  This  incalculable  calamity  is  the  primary 
fact,  the  generating  idea  iu  theological  science,  the 
characteristic  which  distinguishes  it  from  all  sciences 
which  have  reason  only  for  their  instrument. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


The  Christian  theologian,  probing  to  the  very  bot- 
tom of  man's  heart,  explained  its  laws  and  mysterious 
attractions,  as  the  philosopher  of  a  later  period  ex- 
plained the  laws  and  attractions  of  bodies.  "  Original 
siu,"  said  he,  "  is  an  inclination  born  with  us,  a  kind 
of  impulse  which  is  pleasing  to  ns,  a  kind  of  force 
which  draws  us  into  sin,  and  which  has  been  trans- 
mitted by  Adam  to  all  his  posterity.  As  there  is  in 
fire  a  native  force  which  carries  it  upward,  as  there  is 
in  the  magnet  a  natural  power  to  attract  steel,  so  there 
is  in  man  a  primary  force  disposing  him  to  evil.  I 
acknowledge  that  Socrates,  Xenocrates,  and  Zeno,  dis- 
played constancy,  temperance,  and  chastity, — these 
shadows  of  virtue  existed  in  impure  minds,  they  pro- 
ceeded from  the  love  of  self,  and  hence  they  must  be 
regarded  not  as  genuine  virtues,  but  as  vices."  These 
words  may  seem  harsh  ;  but  they  are  so  only  when  we 
misapprehend  Melancthon's  meaning.  None  was  more 
disposed  than  he  to  recognise  in  the  heathen  virtues 
deserving  of  human  esteem ;  but  he  laid  down  this 
great  truth,  that  the  sovereign  law  given  by  God  to  all 
His  creatures  is,  to  love  Him  above  all  things.  Now,  if 
man,  in  doing  what  God  commauds,  does  it,  not  from 
love  to  God,  but  from  love  to  self,  will  God  approve 
of  bis  presuming  to  prefer  himself  to  His  infinite 
Majesty?  and  will  there  be  nothing  vicious  in  an  act 
containing  indirect  rebellion  against  His  supremacy? 

The  theologian  of  Wittcmberg  afterwards  shews  how 
man  is  saved  from  this  wretchedness.  "The  apostle," 
says  he,  "  calls  you  to  contemplate  the  Son  of  God  on 
the  right  hand  of  His  Father  as  a  powerful  Mediator 
who  intercedes  for  us ;  and  He  asks  you  to  be  assured 
that  yom*  sins  are  forgiven,  and  that  you  are  accounted 
righteous,  and  received  by  the  Father  for  the  sake  of 
His  Son,  offered  as  a  victim  on  the  cross." 

What  makes  this  first  edition  of  the  "Common 
Places  "  particidarly  remarkable,  is  the  manner  in  which 
the  theologian  of  Germany  speaks  of  free  will.  He 
perceives,  perhaps,  still  more  clearly  than  Luther  had 
done, — being  more  of  a  theologian  tlian  he, — that  this 
doctrine  could  not  be  separated  from  that  which  con- 
stituted the  essence  of  the  Reformation.  The  justifica- 
tion of  man  before  God,  proceeds  only  from  faith : 
this  is  the  first  point.  This  faith  is  produced  in  man's 
heart  only  by  the  grace  of  God :  this  is  the  second 
point.  Melancthon  is  well  aware  that,  by  conceding 
to  man  any  natural  ability  to  believe,  the  great  doc- 
trine of  grace  established  in  the  first  point,  will  be 
destroyed  in  the  second.  He  had  too  much  discrimina- 
tion and  knowledge  of  the  Scx'iptures  to  be  mistaken 
in  so  weighty  a  matter.  But  he  went  too  far.  In- 
stead of  confining  himself  within  the  limits  of  the  reli- 
gious question,  he  takes  up  the  metaphj'sical  question, 
maintaining  a  fatalism,  which  might  cause  God  to  be 
regarded  as  the  author  of  evil,  and  which,  consequently, 
has  no  foundation  in  Scripture.  "All  that  happens," 
said  he,  "  happening  necessarily  according  to  Divine 
predestination,  it  is  evident  that  our  will  has  no  liberty." 

But  the  object  which  Melancthon  had  especially  in 
view,  was  to  present  theology  as  a  system  of  godliness. 
The  schoolmen  had  frittered  doctrine  away  until  they 
deprived  it  of  life.  The  reformer's  task,  therefore, 
was  to  bring  it  back  to  life.  In  subsequent  editions, 
Melancthon  saw  the  necessity  of  giving  a  clear  exposi- 


tion of  doctrine.  But  the  case  was  somewhat  different 
in  1521.  "  To  know  Christ,"  said  he,  "  is  to  know  Ilis 
benefits.  Paul,  in  his  Epistle  to  the  Romans,  when 
wishing  to  give  a  summary  of  Cliristian  doctrine,  does 
not  philosophize  on  the  mystery  of  the  Trinity,  on  the 
mode  of  the  incarnation,  on  creation,  action,  and  pas- 
sion, &c.  Of  what,  then,  does  he  speak  ?  Of  the  law 
— of  sin — of  grace.  On  these  the  knowledge  of  Christ 
depends." 

The  publication  of  this  system  of  doctrine  was  of  in- 
estimable service  to  the  cause  of  the  Gospel.  Calumny 
was  refuted,  and  prejudice  subdued.  In  churches, 
courts,  and  universities,  Melancthon  was  admired  for 
his  genius,  and  loved  for  the  beauties  of  his  character. 
Even  those  who  did  not  know  the  author  were  won  to 
his  creed  by  his  work.  Several  had  been  repulsed  by 
the  harshness  and  occasional  violence  of  Luther's  lan- 
guage ;  but  here  was  a  man  who,  with  great  elegance 
of  style,  exquisite  taste,  admu-able  clearness,  and  the 
most  exact  method,  expounded  the  powerful  truths 
which  had  suddenly  burst  forth  and  shaken  the  world. 
The  work  was  in  general  request,  was  read  with 
avidity,  and  studied  with  ardour.  So  much  meekness 
and  modesty  won  all  hearts.  So  much  nobleness  and 
force  subdued  them ;  while  the  upper  classes  of  society, 
till  then  undecided,  were  gained  by  a  wisdom  which 
expressed  itself  in  such  beautiful  language. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  enemies  of  the  truth,  whom 
Luther's  formidable  blows  had  not  struck  down,  re- 
mained for  some  time  mute  and  disconcerted  after  the 
appearance  of  Melancthon's  treatise.  It  told  them  that 
there  was  another  man  as  worthy  of  their  hatred  as 
Luther.  "Alas!"  they  exclaimed,  "unhappy  Ger- 
many! to  what  extremities  must  this  new  birth  reduce 
you  ?  " 

From  1521  to  1595,  seventy-seven  editions  of  the 
"  Common  Places  "  appeared,  without  counting  trans- 
lations. After  the  Bible,  it  is,  perhaps,  the  book  which 
contributed  most  powerfully  to  the  establishment  of 
evangelical  doctrine. 


CHAPTER  X. 

Opposition— Henry  VIII.— Wolsey— The  Queen— Fisher— Thomas  More- 
Luther's  Books  Burnt— Henry  Attacks  Luther— Presentation  to  the 
rope— Effect  on  Luther— Force  and  Violence— His  Book— Eeply  of  the 
Bisliop  of  Rochester— Reply  by  More— Step  by  the  King. 

While  the  "  grammarian "  Melancthon  was,  by  his 
mild  accents,  giving  such  effectual  aid  to  Luther,  men 
in  power,  hostile  to  the  reformer,  were  turning  with 
violence  against  him.  Escaped  from  the  Wartburg, 
he  had  again  appeared  on  the  stage  of  the  world,  and 
at  the  news  his  old  enemies  had  resumed  all  their  rage. 
Luther  had  been  three  months  and  a-half  at  Wittcm- 
berg, when  rumour,  with  all  its  exaggerations,  brought 
him  the  news  that  one  of  the  greatest  kings  of  Chris- 
tendom had  risen  up  against  him.  The  head  of  the 
house  of  the  Tudors,  a  prince,  uniting  in  his  person  the 
houses  both  of  York  and  Lancaster,  and  on  whose  head, 
after  torrents  of  blood  had  been  shed,  the  red  rose  and 


HENRY  THE  EIGHTH— AVOLSEY. 


tlip  wliitp  rnflo  wore  at  length  comljincd, — Henry  VIII., 
llir  |H.\\  ril'iil  kin;j;  of  England,  wlio  aspired  to  re-estab- 
lisli  ilir  ami.  Ill  iuflnonce  of  his  crown  on  the  continent, 
and  e:<iiuci:illy  in  France,  had  ju8t  composed  a  book 
against  the  poor  monk  of  Wittembcrg.  In  a  letter  to 
Lange,  2Gth  Jnnc,  1522,  Lnther  writes:  "A  great 
boast  is  made  of  a  little  book  by  the  King  of  Eng- 
land." 

Henry  VIII.  was  then  thirty-one  years  of  age ;  "  he 
was  tall,  strong-bnilt,  and  proportioned,  and  had  an 
air  of  authority  and  empire ;"  his  features  expressing 
the  vigour  of  his  intellect.  Of  a  vehement  temper, 
determined  to  make  everything  bend  to  the  violence  of 
his  passions,  and  thirsting  for  glory,  he  at  first  con- 
cealed his  faults  under  a  kind  of  boisterox»sness  com- 
mon to  youth,  and  wiis  surrounded  by  flatterers  who 
encouraged  them.  He  often  repaired  with  his  baud  of 
favourites  to  the  house  of  his  chaplain,  Thomas  AVol- 
sey,  sou  of  a  butcher  of  Ipswich.  This  man,  gifted 
with  great  abilities,  of  an  excessive  ambition,  and  an 
arrogance  wliirli  kmw  no  bounds,  being  patronized  by 
the  Bislin|i  .il'  \\iiiihcv-li>r,  chancellor  of  the  kingdom, 
had  rapidly  advanced  in  the  favour  of  his  master, 
whom  he  attracted  to  his  house  by  the  seduction  of 
pleasures  and  irregularities,  in  which  the  young  prince 
would  not  have  ventured  to  indulge  in  his  own  palace. 
Such  is  the  account  given  by  Polydorc  Virgil,  at  that 
time  the  pope's  sub-collector  in  England.  At  these 
licentious  meetings  the  chaplain  outstripped  the  young 
courtiers  who  accompanied  Henry  VIII.  He  was  seen 
forgetting  the  gravity  of  a  minister  of  the  altar,  sing- 
ing, dancing,  laughing,  frolicking,  using  obscene  lan- 
guage, and  fencing.  In  this  way  he  soon  obtained  the 
first  place  in  the  king's  council,  and  governing  the 
kingdom  with  absolute  sway,  was  courted  by  all  the 
princes  of  Christendom. 

Henry,  living  in  a  round  of  balls,  festivities,  and 
jousts,  foolishly  squandered  the  treasures  which  had 
been  slowly  amassed  by  the  avarice  of  his  father. 
Magnificent  tournaments  succeeded  each  other  without 
interruption.  The  king,  who,  in  manly  beauty,  sur- 
passed all  the  combatants,  invariably  took  the  lead. 
If,  for  an  instant,  the  contest  appeared  doubtful,  the 
dexterity  and  strength  of  the  prince,  or  the  adroit 
policy  of  those  opposed  to  him,  assured  him  the  vic- 
tory, and  the  arena  resounded  with  shouts  of  applause. 
The  vanity  of  the.young  prince  was  inflated  by  these 
easy  triumphs ;  and  there  was  no  species  of  success  to 
which  he  did  not  think  himself  entitled  to  aspire.  The 
queen  was  occasionally  present  among  the  spectators. 
Her  grave  figure,  her  downcast  look,  her  sedate  and 
melancholy  air,  contrasted  with  the  boisterous  sounds 
of  these  festivities.  Henry  VIH.,  shortly  after  his 
accession  to  the  throne,  had,  for  reasons  of  state, 
married  Catherine  of  AiTagon,  who  was  five  years 
older  than  himself,  the  widow  of  his  brother,  Arthur, 
and  aunt  to  Charles  V.  "While  her  husband  was  giv- 
ing himself  up  to  pleasure,  the  vu-tuous  Catherine, 
with  a  piety  truly  Spanish,  rose  at  midnight  to  take 
silent  part  in  the  prayers  of  the  monks.  She  threw 
herself  upon  her  knees,  without  cushion  or  carpet.  At 
five  o'clock  in  the  morning,  after  a  short  repose,  she 
was  again  up ;  she  was  clad  in  the  habit  of  St.  Fran- 
cis;  for  she  had  entered  the  tertiary  order  of  this 


saint ;  then,  hastily  covering  it  with  royal  vestments, 
she  repaired  to  the  church  at  six,  to  the  holy  offices. 

Two  beings,  living  in  two  such  different  worlds, 
could  not  remain  long  united. 

Romish  piety,  however,  had  other  representatives 
besides  Catherine  at  the  court  of  Henry  VIII.  John 
Fisher,  bishop  of  Rochester,  on  the  borders  of  seventy, 
equally  distinguished  by  his  learning  and  the  purity  of 
his  morals,  wivs  the  object  of  general  veneration.  He 
had  been  the  oldest  councillor  of  Henry  VII. ;  and  the 
Duchess  of  Richmond,  the  grandmother  of  Ileni-y 
VIII.,  when  on  her  death-bed,  had  sent  for  Fisher, 
and  recomiuended  to  his  care  the  youth  and  inex- 
perience of  her  grandson.  Amidst  his  irregularities, 
the  king  long  venerated  the  bishop  as  a  father. 

A  man  much  younger  than  Fisher,  a  layman  and 
lawyer,  had  begun  to  attract  general  attention  by  his 
genius  and  the  nobleness  of  his  clKinicter.  He  was 
named  Thomas  IMcire,  and  was  tlie  smi  uf  a  judge  of 
the  King's  Bench.  Poor,  austere,  indefatigable  in 
exertion,  he  had  endeavoured  at  twenty  to  extinguish 
the  passions  of  j-outh  by  wearing  a  hair  shirt,  and 
subjecting  himself  to  discipline.  One  day,  when 
attending  mass,  being  sent  for  by  the  king,  he  replied, 
that  the  service  of  God  must  take  precedence  of  that 
of  his  majesty.  Wolsey  brought  him  under  the  notice 
of  Henry  VIII.,  who  employed  him  on  different  em- 
bassies, and  vowed  to  have  a  great  affection  for  him. 
He  often  sent  for  him,  and  conversed  with  him  about 
the  planets,  Wolsey,  and  theology. 

In  fact,  the  king  himself  was  no  stranger  to  the 
Romish  doctrines.  It  would  even  appear  that,  if 
Arthur  had  lived,  Henry  would  have  been  destined 
to  the  archiepiscopal  see  of  Canterbiuy.  Thomas 
Aquinas,  St.  Bonaventure ;  tournays,  festivals ;  Eliza- 
beth Blunt,  and  other  mistresses  besides,  all  mingled 
in  the  thoughts  and  actions  of  this  prince,  who  caused 
masses  of  his  own  composition  to  be  chanted  in  his 
chapel. 

As  soon  as  Henry  VUI.  heard  of  Luther,  his  wrath 
was  kindled  against  him  ;  and  scarcely  was  the  decree 
of  the  Diet  of  Worms  known  in  England,  when  he 
ordered  the  papal  bull  to  be  executed  against  the 
reformer's  books.  On  the  12th  May,  1521,  Thomas 
Wolsey,  who,  to  the  office  of  Chancellor  of  England, 
united"  those  of  Cardinal  and  Roman  legate,  repaired 
to  St.  Paul's  in  solemn  procession.  This  man,  whose 
pride  knew  no  bounds,  thought  himself  the  equal  of 
kings.  His  chair  was  of  gold,  his  bed  of  gold,  and 
cloth  of  gold  covered  the  table  at  which  he  dined.  On 
this  occasion  he  disjilayed  great  pomp.  The  haughty 
prelate  walked,  surrounded  by  his  household,  consisting 
of  eight  hundred  individuals,  among  whom  were  barons, 
knights,  and  cadets,  of  the  most  distinguished  families, 
who  hoped  by  serving  him  to  obtain  public  appoint- 
ments. Gold  and  silk  were  not  only  conspicuous  on 
liis  dress,  (he  was  the  first  ecclesiastic  who  had 
ventured  to  clothe  so  sumptuously.)  but  also  on  the 
trappings  and  harness  of  his  horses.  Before  him  a 
priest  of  a  stately  figure  carried  a  rod,  surrounded  by 
a  crucifix ;  behind  him  another,  no  less  stately,  caiTied 
the  achiepiscopal  cross  of  York  ;  a  nobleman,  walking 
at  his  side,  caiTied  his  cardinal's  hat.  He  was  attended 
by  nobles,  prelates,  ambassadors  of  the  pope  and  the 


HISTORY  OF  THE  EEFORMATION. 


emperor,  and  these  were  followed  by  a  long  train  of 
mules,  carrying  trunks  with  the  richest  and  most  splen- 
did coveiings.  At  London,  amidst  this  magnificent 
procession,  the  writings  of  the  poor  monk  of  'Wittem- 
berg  were  carried  to  the  flames.  On  arriving  at  the 
cathedral,  the  proud  priest  made  even  his  cardinal's 
hat  be  placed  upon  the  altar.  The  virtuous  Bishop  of 
Rochester  took  his  station  at  the  foot  of  the  cross,  and 
there,  in  an  animated  tone,  inveighed  against  heresy. 
The  impious  writings  of  the  heresiarch  were  then 
brought  forward,  and  devoutly  burned  in  presence  of 
an  immense  crowd.  Such  was  the  first  news  which 
England  received  of  the  Reformation. 

Henry  did  not  choose  to  stop  here.  This  prince, 
whose  sword  was  ever  raised  against  his  enemies,  his 
wives,  and  his  favourites,  in  a  letter  to  the  elector- 
palatine,  thus  expresses  himself:  "It  is  the  devil  who, 
by  Luther  as  his  organ,  has  kindled  this  immense  con- 
flagi-ation.  If  Luther  will  not  be  converted,  let  the 
flames  consume  him  and  his  writings." 

Even  this  was  not  enough.  Henry,  convinced  that 
the  progress  of  heresy  was  owing  to  the  ignorance  of 
the  German  princes,  thought  that  the  moment  was 
come  for  displaying  all  his  learning.  The  conquests  of 
his  battle-axe  allowed  him  not  to  doubt  of  the  conquests 
reserved  for  his  pen.  But  another  passion  still — one 
which  is  always  strong  in  little  minds,  vanity — spurred 
on  the  king.  He  felt  humbled  at  having  no  title  to 
oppose  those  of  "Catholic"  and  "Most  Christian," 
borne  by  the  kings  of  Spain  and  France,  and  he  was 
long  a  supjiliant  at  the  Romish  court  for  a  similar 
distinction.  What  better  fitted  to  procm-e  such  a  title 
than  an  attack  ujiou  heresy?  Henry,  therefore,  threw 
aside  the  royal  pm-ple,  and  descended  from  his  lofty 
throne  into  the  arena  of  theologians.  He  made  a 
compilation  from  Thomas  Aquinas,  Peter  Lombard, 
Alexander  Hales,  and  Bonaventiu-e;  and  the  world 
beheld  the  publication  of  the  "Defeuce  of  the  Seven 
Sacraments  against  Martin  Luther,  by  the  most  in- 
vincible King  of  England,  France,  and  Ireland,  Henry, 
Eighth  of  the  name." 

"I  will  throw  myself  before  the  Church,"  said  the 
King  of  England  in  this  writing ;  "I  will  receive  in  my 
breast  the  poisoned  darts  of  the  enemy  who  is  assailing 
her.  To  this  the  present  state  of  affairs  calls  me. 
Every  servant  of  Jesus  Christ,  whatever  be  his  age, 
rank,  or  sex,  must  bestir  himself  against  the  common 
enemy  of  Christendom. 

"Let  us  arm  ourselves  with  double  armour — with 
heavenly  weapons,  that  by  the  arms  of  truth  we  may 
vanquish  him  who  combats  with  the  arms  of  error. 
But  let  us  also  arm  ourselves  with  terrestrial  armour, 
in  order  that,  if  he  proves  obstinate  in  his  wickedness, 
the  hand  of  the  executioner  may  constrain  him  to 
silence;  and  he  may  thus,  for  once  at  least,  be  useful 
to  the  world  by  his  exemplary  punishment." 

Henry  VIII.  could  not  conceal  the  contempt  which 
he  felt  for  his  able  opponent.  "  This  man,"  said  the 
crowned  theologian,  "seems  as  if  he  were  in  labour: 
he  makes  incredible  efforts,  but  only  brings  forth  wind. 
Pluck  off  the  dress  of  arrogant  expression  in  which  his 
absurdities  are  clothed,  just  as  an  ape  is  clothed  in 
purple,  and  what  will  remain?  .  .  ,  Miserable, 
empty  sophistry!" 


The  king  defends,  iu  succession,  the  mass,  penance, 
confirmation,  orders,  and  extreme  unction.  He  spares 
no  insulting  epithets,  calling  his  opponent,  by  twns, 
an  infernal  wolf,  a  venomous  viper,  a  limb  of  the 
devil.  Even  Luther's  honesty  is  assailed.  Henry  VIII. 
crushes  the  mendicant  monk  with  his  royal  anger,  and 
in  the  words  of  a  historian,  "  writes  as  'twere  with  his 
sceptre." 

Still,  however,  it  must  be  admitted,  the  work  was 
not  bad  for  the  author  and  his  age.  The  style  is  not 
without  vigour.  But  the  public  could  not  content 
themselves  with  merely  doing  it  justice.  A  burst  of 
applause  received  the  theological  treatise  of  the  power- 
ful King  of  England.  "The  most  learned  work  that 
ever  the  sun  saw  !  " '  exclaimed  some. — "  It  deserves," 
rejoined  others,  "  to  be  compared  with  the  works  of 
St.  Augustine.  He  is  a  Constantine,  a  Charlemagne !  " 
— "He  is  more,"  exclaimed  a  third  party,  "he  is  a 
second  Solomon ! " 

These  exclamations  were  soon  heard  beyond  the 
limits  of  England.  Henry  desired  the  Dean  of  Wind- 
sor, John  Clarke,  his  ambassador  to  the  pope,  to  de- 
liver his  book  to  the  sovereign  jiontiff .  Leo  X.  received 
the  ambassador  in  fuU  consistory.  Clarke,  in  present- 
ing the  royal  work,  said:  "The  king,  my  mjister, 
assm-es  you  that,  after  refuting  the  errors  of  Luther 
with  his  pen,  he  is  ready  to  combat  his  adherents  with 
the  sword."  Leo  X.,  deeply  gratified  with  this  pro- 
mise, replied  that  the  book  of  the  King  of  England 
could  only  have  been  composed  with  the  aid  of  the 
Holy  Spu-it,  and  named  Henry  "  Defender  of  the  Faith,'' 
— a  title  which  the  kings  of  England  still  bear. 

The  reception  given  to  the  king's  work  at  Rome  con- 
tributed greatly  to  its  cu-culation.  In  a  few  months 
several  thousands  of  copies  issued  from  different  presses. 
"  The  whole  Christian  world,"  says  Cochloeus,  "  was 
fiUed  with  admiration  and  joy." 

These  extravagant  praises  increased  the  vanity  of 
the  chief  of  the  'Tudors.  He  was  brought  to  fancy  he 
had  ^vritteu  with  some  degree  of  inspiration.  After- 
wards he  would  not  submit  to  the  least  contradiction. 
To  him  the  papacy  was  no  longer  at  Rome,  but  at 
Greenwich;  and  infallibility  rested  on  his  own  head. 
At  a  later  period  this  conti'ibuted  greatly  to  the  Refor- 
mation of  England. 

Luther  read  Henry's  book  with  mingled  disdain,  im- 
patience, and  indignation.  The  falsehood  and  insults 
which  it  contained  ;  but  especially  the  air  of  contempt 
and  pity  affected  by  the  king,  irritated  the  doctor  of 
Wittemberg  in  the  highest  degree.  Hie  thought  that 
the  pope  had  crowned  the  writing,  and  that  the  enemies 
of  the  Gospel  were  everywhere  trampling  on  the  Re- 
formation and  the  reformer,  as  already  overthrown  and 
vanquished,  increased  his  indignation.  Besides,  what 
occasion  had  he  for  delicacy  ?  Was  he  not  fighting  for 
a  King  greater  than  all  the  kings  of  the  earth  .^  Evan- 
gelical mildness  seemed  to  him  out  of  season :  eye  for 
eye,  tooth  for  tooth.  He  kept  no  measm-e.  Pursued, 
goaded,  tracked,  and  wounded,  the  raging  lion  turned 
round  and  prepared  to  tear  his  enemy.  The  elector, 
Spalatin,  Melancthon,  and  Bugenhagen,  tried  in  vain 
to  appease  him.  Tlicy  would  have  prevented  him  from 
replying ;  but  he  was  not  to  be  stopped.  "  I  will  not 
1  Biu-net,  "  History  of  the  Reformation  of  England,''  i.  p.  30. 


LUTHER'S  INDIGNATION. 


deal  mildly  with  the  luug  of  England,"  said  he ;  "  it  is 
in  vain  (1  know  it  is)  to  humble  myself,  to  yield,  be- 
seech, and  try  the  ways  of  peace.  I  will  at  length 
shew  myself  more  terrible  than  the  ferocious  beasts 
who  are  constantly  butting  me  with  their  horns.  I  will 
let  them  feel  mine:  I  will  preach  and  irritate  Satan 
tmtil  he  wears  himself  out,  and  falls  down  exhatisted. 
If  this  heretic  retracts  not,  says  the  new  Thomas, 
Henry  VIII.,  he  must  be  burnt.  Such  are  the  weapons 
now  employed  against  me ;  first,  the  fury  of  stupid 
asses  and  Tlioniastical  swine,  and  then  the  fire.  Very 
well !  Let  these  swine  come  forward,  if  they  dare, 
and  burn  me !  Here  I  am,  waiting  for  them.  My 
wish  is,  that  my  ashes,  thrown,  after  my  death,  into  a 
thousand  seius,  may  arise,  pursue,  and  engulf  this 
aborai:iable  crew.  Living,  I  will  be  the  enemy  of  the 
papacy;  burnt,  I  will  be  its  destruction!  Go,  swine  of 
St.  Thomas,  do  what  seemeth  to  you  good.  You  shall 
ever  find  Luther  as  a  bear  in  your  way,  and  a  lion  in 
your  path.  He  will  thunder  upon  you  from  all  quar- 
ter, aud  leave  you  no  peace  until  he  has  brayed  your 
brains  of  iron,  and  ground  to  powder  your  foreheads  of 
brass." 

At  the  outset  Luther  upbraids  Henry  VIII.  with 
having  based  his  doctrines  only  on  the  decrees  and 
sentences  of  men.  "  For  me,"  says  he,  "  I  cease  not  to 
cry.  The  Gospel!  the  Gospel! —  Christ!  Christ! — while 
my  opponents  cease  not  to  reply:  'Customs!  customs! 
— Ordinances  !  ordinances ! — Fathers !  Fathers  !  Let 
i/oitr  fait/i,  says  St.  Paul,  ftaiid  not  in  the  wisdom  of  men, 
but  in  tlie  power  of  God.  And  the  apostle,  by  this  thun- 
derbolt from  heaven,  overthrows  aud  scatters,  like  the 
dust  before  the  wind,  all  the  silly  crotchets  of  this 
Henry.  In  confusion  and  consternation  the  Thomists, 
the  papists,  and  the  Henrys,  fell  to  the  ground  before 
the  thunder  of  these  words." 

He  afterwards  refutes  the  king's  production  in  de- 
tail, overthrowing  his  arguments,  one  by  one,  with 
clearness,  ability,  and  a  thorough  knowledge  of  the 
Holy  Scriptures  and  the  history  of  the  Church ;  but 
also  with  a  confidence,  disdain,  and  occasionally  a 
violence,  at  which  we  must  not  bo  surprised. 

On  arriving  at  the  conclusion,  Luther  again  ex- 
presses indignation  at  his  opponent  for  drawing  argu- 
ments only  from  the  F'athers :  this  was  the  essence  of 
the  whole  controversy.  "  To  all  the  sayings  of  Fathers, 
men,  angels,  devils,"  says  he,  "I  oppose  not  the  anti- 
quity of  custom,  not  the  multitude,  but  the  Word  of 
the  Eternal  Majesty,  the  Gospel,  which  they  them- 
selves are  constrained  to  approve.  By  it  I  hold  ;  on  it 
1  rest ;  in  it  I  glory,  triumph,  and  exult  over  papists, 
Thomists,  Henrys,  and  all  the  hellish  stye.  The  King 
of  heaven  is  with  me,  and  therefore  I  fear  nothing, 
even  should  a  thousand  Augustines,  a  thousand 
Cyprians,  and  a  thousand  churches,  of  which  Henry 
is  the  defender,  rise  up  against  me.  It  is  a  small  mat- 
ter for  me  to  despise  and  lash  an  earthly  king,  who 
himself  has  not  feared,  in  his  writing,  to  blaspheme 
the  King  of  heaven,  and  profane  His  holiness  by  the 
most  audacious  falsehood." 

"Papists!"  exclaims  he,  in  concluding,  "will  you 
not  desist  from  j-our  vain  pursuits  ?  Do  as  you  please, 
— the  result,  however,  must  be,  that  before  the  Gospel 
which  I,  Martin  Luther,  have  preached,  popes,  bishops, 


priests,  monks,  princes,  devils,  death,  sin,  and  what- 
ever is  not  Jesus  Christ,  or  iu  Jesus  Christ,  shall  fall 
and  perish." 

Thus  spoke  the  poor  monk.  His  violence,  certainly, 
cannot  be  excused,  if  it  is  judged  by  the  rule  to  which 
he  himself  appeals, — viz.,  the  Word  of  God.  We  can- 
not even  justify  it  by  alleging  either  the  coarseness  of 
the  age, — for  Melancthou  was  able  to  discover  his 
courtesy  iu  his  writings, — or  the  energy  of  his  disposi- 
tion, for  if  this  energy  had  some  effect  on  his  language, 
passion  had  still  more.  The  best  course,  therefore,  is 
not  to  attempt  to  defend  it.  However,  to  be  just,  let 
it  be  observed,  that  in  the  sixteenth  ceutiu-y  this 
violence  did  not  seem  so  strange  as  it  appears  in  the 
present  day.  The  learned  were  then  one  of  the  exist- 
ing powers  as  well  as  princes.  Henry  had  attacked 
Luther  by  becoming  an  author.  Luther  replied  con- 
formably to  the  law  received  in  the  Republic  of  Let- 
ters,— viz.,  that  the  thing  to  be  considered  is  the  truth 
of  what  is  said,  aud  not  the  quality  of  him  who  saj's 
it.  Let  us  also  add,  that  when  this  very  king  turned 
against  the  pope,  the  insults  which  he  received  from 
the  Romish  writers,  and  the  pope  himself,  far  exceeded 
anything  that  had  been  said  by  Luther. 

Besides,  if  Luther  called  Doctor  Eck  an  ass,  and 
Henry  VIH.  a  hog,  he  indignantly  rejected  the  inter- 
vention of  the  secular  arm  ;  whereas  Dr.  Eck  wrote  a 
dissertation  to  prove  that  heretics  ought  to  be  burned ; 
and  Henry  erected  scaffolds  agreeably  to  the  precepts  of 
the  doctor  of  Ingolstadt. 

A  deep  sensation  wiis  produced  at  the  king's  court. 
Surrey,  Wolsey,  and  the  tribe  of  courtiers  broke  off 
the  pomps  aud  festivities  of  Greenwich,  to  vent  their 
indignation  in  contumely  aud  sarcasm.  The  venerable 
Bishop  of  Rochester,  who  had  been  delighted  when  he 
saw  the  young  prince,  who  had  been  early  committed 
to  his  charge,  breaking  a  lance  for  the  Church,  was 
deeply  wounded  by  the  monk's  attack,  and  immediately 
replied  to  it.  His  words  are  very  characteristic  of  his 
time  and  his  Church.  "  Catch  for  us  the  small  foxes 
that  spoil  the  vines,  says  Christ  in  the  Song  of  Songs. 
This  shews,"  says  Fisher,  "  that  we  must  lay  hands 
on  heretics  before  they  grow  up.  Now  Luther  has 
become  a  great  fox, — a  fox  so  old,  and  cunning,  and 
malicious,  that  it  is  very  difficult  to  catch  him.  What 
do  I  say? — a  fox!  .  .  .  He  is  a  mad  dog,  a  raven- 
ing wolf,  a  cruel  bear,  or  rather,  all  these  animals  at 
once ;  for  the  monster  has  several  beasts  in  his  bosom." 

Thomas  More  also  descended  into  the  arena  to  en- 
counter the  monk  of  Wittemberg.  Although  a  laj-man, 
he  pushed  his  zeal  against  the  Reformation  the  length 
of  fanaticism,  if  he  did  not  push  it  the  length  of  blood. 
When  young  noblemen  undertake  the  defence  of  the 
papacy,  their  violence  often  outstrips  that  of  ecclesias- 
tics themselves.  ''  Reverend  brother,  father,  drunkard, 
deserter  of  the  Augustine  order,  mis-shapen  bacchana- 
lian as  to  both  kinds  of  law,  untaught  teacher  of  sacred 
theology!"  Such  are  the  terms  addressed  to  the  re- 
former by  one  of  the  most  illustrious  men  of  his  time. 
Then,  explaining  the  mode  in  which  Luther  has  com- 
posed his  book  against  Henry,  he  says:  "He  called 
together  his  companions,  aud  asked  each  to  go  his  way, 
and  rummage  for  buffoonery  and  insult.  One  went  to 
waggoners  and  boatmen,  another  to  baths  and  gamb- 


286 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


ling-houses,  a  third  to  barbers'  shops  and  taverns,  a 
fourtli  to  mills  and  brothels.  Everything  they  heard 
most  insolent,  filthy,  and  infamous,  they  noted  down, 
and  bringing  it  back,  threw  it  into  that  impure  sink 
called  the  mind  of  Luther." — "If  he  retracts  liis  lies 
and  calumnies,"  he  continues,  '•  if  he  lays  aside  his  folly 
and  fury,  if  he  again  swallows  his  abominations,  he 
will  find  some  one  to  debate  gravely  with  him.  But  if 
he  continues  as  he  has  begun,  jesting,  raging,  playing 
the  mountebank,  slandering,  vomiting  nothing  but  filth, 
.  .  .  then  let  others  do  as  they  will;  for  us,  we 
prefer  leaving  the  little  friar  alone  with  his  fury  and 
liis  filth."  Thomas  More  had  better  have  reserved  his 
own.  Luther  had  never  stooped  so  low  in  his  style. 
He  made  no  reply. 

This  production  increased  Henry's  attachment  to 
More.  He  once  paid  him  a  visit  in  his  modest  dwell- 
ing at  Chelsea.  After  dinner,  the  king  walked  with 
him  in  his  garden,  with  his  arm  resting  on  the  shoulder 
of  his  favourite ;  while  Lady  More  and  her  children, 
concealed  behind  the  lattice,  could  not  withdraw  their 
astonished  eyes.  After  one  of  these  walks,  More,  who 
knew  Henry's  character,  said  to  his  wife:  "If  my  head 
could  gain  him  a  single  castle  in  France,  he  would 
never  hesitate." 

The  king,  thus  defended  by  the  Bishop  of  Rochester 
and  his  future  chancellor,  had  no  occasion  to  resume 
his  pen.  Confounded  at  seeing  himself  treated  in  the 
face  of  Europe  as  a  mere  author,  Henry  abandoned 
the  dangerous  ])Osition  he  had  taken  up,  and  throwing 
away  his  theological  pen,  had  recourse  to  the  more 
efficacious  methods  of  diplomacy. 

An  ambassador  set  off  from  the  court  at  Greenwich 
with  a  letter  from  the  king  to  the  elector  and  the 
dukes  of  Saxony.  Henry  thus  expressed  himself : 
"  Luther,  the  true  dragon  fallen  from  heaven,  is  pour- 
ing out  his  venomous  floods  on  the  earth.  He  is 
stirring  up  revolt  in  the  Church  of  Jesus  Christ, 
abolishing  the  laws,  insulting  the  powers,  exciting 
laymen  against  priests,  laymen  and  priests  against  the 
pope,  and  subjects  against  kings ;  his  only  wish  being 
to  see  Christians  fighting  together  and  destroying  each 
other,  and  the  enemies  of  our  faith  grinning  with 
delight  over  the  scene  of  carnage. 

"  VYhat  is  this  doctrine,  which  he  terms  evangelical, 
but  the  doctrine  of  Wickliffe  ?  Now,  most  honoured 
uncles,  I  know  what  your  ancestors  did  to  destroy  it. 
They  pursued  it  in  Bohemia  as  if  it  had  been  a  wild 
beast,  and  causing  it  to  faU  into  a  trap,  there  enclosed 
and  barricaded  it.  You  will  not  allow  it  to  escape  by 
your  negligence,  steal  into  Saxony,  and  take  possession 
of  all  Germany,  sending  forth  from  its  fuming  nostrils 
the  fire  of  hell,  and  spreading  far  and  wide  tlie  con- 
flagration which  your  country  so  often  desired  to 
extinguish  in  its  blood. 

"Wherefore,  most  excellent  friends,  I  feel  myself 
called  to  exhort  you,  and  even  to  implore  you,  by  all 
that  is  most  sacred,  sjJeedily  to  strangle  the  cm-sed  sect 
of  Luther.  Put  no  one  to  death  if  it  can  possibly  be 
avoided;  but  if  heretical  obstinacy  continues,  shed 
blood  without  fear,  in  order  that  this  abominable  sect 
may  cease  from  under  heaven." 

The  elector  and  his  brother  referred  the  king  to  the 
future  council.     Thus  Henry  was  far  from  succeeding 


in  his  object.  "So  great  a  man  mingling  in  the 
dispute,"  says  Paul  Sarpi,  "served  to  excite  more 
curiosity,  and  procure  universal  favour  for  Luther,  as 
usually  happens  in  combats  and  tournays,  where  the 
spectators  always  incline  to  the  weakest  party,  and 
take  pleasure  in  giving  a  higher  place  to  his  humble 
exploits. 


CHAPTER  XL 

General  Movement— The  Monks— How  the  Heformation  Is  Acoomplishod— 
Ordinary  Believers— The  Old  and  the  New  Teachers— Printing  and 
Literature— Booksellers  and  Hawkers. 

In  fact,  an  immense  movement  was  taking  place.  The 
Reformation  which,  after  the  Diet  of  Worms,  was  sup- 
posed to  be  shut  up  with  its  first  teacher  within  the 
narrow  chamber  of  a  strong  castle,  burst  forth,  spread- 
ing throughout  the  empire,  and  even  throughout  Chris- 
tendom. The  two  parties,  till  then  confounded,  began 
to  stand  apart  from  each  other ;  and  the  partisans  of  a 
monk  who  had  nothing  on  his  side  but  his  eloquence, 
fearlessly  took  up  their  position,  confronting  the  ser- 
vants of  Cliarles  V.  and  Leo  X.  Luther  had  just 
quitted  the  walls  of  the  Wartburg,  the  pope  had  ex- 
communicated all  who  had  adhered  to  him,  the  imperial 
diet  had  condemned  his  doctrine,  princes  were  hasten- 
ing to  crush  it  in  the  greater  part  of  the  Germanic 
States,  the  ministers  of  Rome  were  tearing  it  to  pieces 
before  the  people  by  their  violent  invectives,  the  other 
states  of  Christendom  were  calling  upon  Germany  to 
sacrifice  an  enemy,  whose  attacks  they  dreaded  even 
at  a  distance;  and  yet  this  new  and  not  numerous 
party,  without  organization,  without  connecting  ties, 
with  nothing,  in  short,  to  concentrate  the  common 
strength,  had  already,  by  the  energy  of  their  faith  and 
the  rapidity  of  their  conquests,  spread  terror  over  the 
vast,  ancient,  and  mighty  domain  of  Rome.  Every- 
where, as  in  the  first  breathings  of  spring,  the  seed 
was  seen  bm-sting  forth  from  the  ground  without 
effort,  and,  as  it  were,  spontaneously.  Every  day 
gave  evidence  of  new  progress.  Individuals,  villages, 
burghs,  whole  towns,  united  in  the  new  confession  of 
the  name  of  Jesus  Christ.  There  was  stern  resistance 
and  dreadful  persecution;  but  the  mysterious  power 
which  urged  forward  the  people  was  irresistible,  and 
the  persecuted  hastening  on  and  advancing,  amid  exile, 
imprisonment,  and  scaffolds,  were  everywhere  succeed- 
ing against  the  persecutors. 

The  monastic  orders  which  Rome  had  stretched 
over  Christendom,  like  a  net  destined  to  take  souls 
and  hold  them  captive,  were  the  first  to  break  these 
bonds,  and  rapidly  propagate  the  new  doctrine  through- 
out the  Western  Church.  The  Augustines  of  Saxony 
had  advanced  with  Luther,  having,  like  him,  that  inti- 
mate experience  of  the  Divine  Word  which  gives  an 
interest  in  God  himself,  and  so  dispenses  with  Rome 
and  her  arrogant  pretensions.  But  in  the  other  con- 
vents of  the  order,  evangelical  light  had  also  arisen. 
Sometimes  it  was  old  men  who,  like  Staupitz,  had 
preserved  the  sound  doctrines  of  truth  in  the  bosom 
of  ill-used  Christendom,  and  were  now  asking   Go  J 


EMANCIPATION  OF  THE  MONKS. 


2S7 


to  let  thoin  depart  in  peace,  becauso  then-  eyes  had 
Been  His  salvation.  At  other  times,  it  was  young  men 
wlio,  with  all  the  eagerness  of  early  life,  had  received 
the  lessons  of  Luther.  At  Nuremberg,  Osnabruck, 
Dettingcn,  Ratisbon,  Hesse,  Wurtemberg,  Strasburg, 
Antwerp,  the  Augustine  convents  turned  towards 
Christ,  and  by  their  coui'ago  provoked  tho  wrath  of 
Home. 

But  the  movement  was  not  confined  to  the  Augus- 
tines.  They  were  imitated  in  the  monasteries  of  the 
other  orders  by  bold  individuals,  who,  in  spite  of  the 
clamour  of  such  monks  as  were  unwilling  to  abandon 
tlieir  carnal  observances,  iu  spite  of  wrath,  contempt, 
and  sentences  of  condemnation,  iu  spite  of  discipline 
and  cloistral  prisons,  fearlessly  raised  their  voice  for 
this  linly  and  precious  truth,  which,  after  so  many 
|KiiiilHI  >i:irilics,  so  many  distressing  doubts,  so  many 
iiiiriiial  .--iriiL^nles,  they  had  found  at  last.  In  the 
greater  part  uf  the  cloisters,  tho  most  spiritually 
minded,  the  most  pious  and  best  informed  of  the  in- 
mates declared  in  favour  of  reform.  In  the  Franciscan 
convent  at  Ulm,  Eberlin  and  Kettenbach  attacked  the 
servile  works  of  Monachism,  and  the  superstitious 
practices  of  the  Church,  with  an  eloquence  which 
might  have  carried  a  nation,  calling,  in  one  breath,  for 
the  suppression  of  the  abodes  of  monks  and  the  abodes 
of  debauchery.  Stephen  Kempe,  another  Franciscan, 
standing  alone,  preached  the  Gospel  at  Hamburg,  and 
with  undaunted  breast,  withstood  the  hatred,  envy, 
menaces,  snares,  and  attacks  of  priests,  irritated  when 
they  saw  the  people  forsaking  their  altars,  and  crowd- 
ing with  enthusiasm  to  his  sermons. 

Often  even  the  heads  of  convents  were  the  first  to 
move  in  the  dii*ection  of  reform.  At  Halberstadt, 
Neuenwerk,  Halle,  and  Sagan,  the  priors  set  their 
monks  the  example,  or  at  least  declared,  that  if  any 
monk  felt  his  conscience  burdened  by  monastic  vows, 
so  far  from  detaining  him  iu  the  convent,  they  would 
take  him  on  theii-  shoulders  to  carry  him  out. 

In  fact,  throughout  Germany,  monks  were  seen  de- 
positing their  frocks  and  cowls  at  the  door  of  their 
monastery.  Some  were  expelled  by  the  violence  of 
the  friars  or  abbots  ;  others  of  a  mild  and  pacific  cha- 
racter could  not  endure  the  disputes  which  were  per- 
petually springing  up,  the  insult,  clamour,  and  hatred 
which  pursued  them  even  in  their  sleep.  The  majority 
were  convinced  that  the  monastic  life  was  opposed  to 
the  will  of  God  and  the  Christian  life.  Some  had 
arrived  gi-adually  at  this  conviction,  and  others  all  at 
once  while  reading  some  passage  of  the  Bible.  Idle- 
ness, coarseness,  ignorance,  and  meanness,  the  essential 
characteristics  of  tho  mendicant  orders,  produced  in- 
effable disgust  in  men  of  an  exalted  spirit,  who  felt  it 
impossible  any  longer  to  endure  the  company  of  their 
vulgar  associates.  A  Franciscan,  begging  his  round, 
presented  himself  one  day,  wth  his  box  in  his  hand,  at 
a  smithy  in  Nuremberg :  "  Why,"  said  the  smith  to 
him,  "  do  you  not  rather  gain  your  bread  by  working 
with  your  own  hands  ? "  At  these  words  the  sturdy 
monk  threw  away  his  di'ess,  and  seizing  the  hammer 
with  a  vigorous  hand,  made  it  fall  with  force  on  the 
anvil.  The  useless  mendicant  had  become  an  honest 
mechanic.  His  box  and  frock  were  sent  back  to  the 
monastery. 


Nor  were  monks  the  only  persons  who  ranged  them- 
selves under  the  standard  of  the  Gospel ;  priests  in  still 
greater  numbers  preached  the  new  doctrine.  But  it 
did  not  even  need  preachers  to  diffuse  it — it  often  acted 
on  the  minds  of  men,  and  awoke  them  from  their  deep 
sleep  before  any  one  had  addressed  them. 

In  towns,  burghs,  and  even  villages,  Luther's  writ- 
ings were  read  in  the  evening  at  the  fireside,  or  iu  the 
house  of  the  schoolmaster.  Some  of  the  inhabitants 
were  struck  by  this  reading ;  they  applied  to  the  Bible 
to  clear  up  tlieir  doubts,  and  were  astonished  when 
they  saw  the  strange  contrast  between  their  Chris- 
tianity and  the  Christianity  of  the  Bible.  Hesitating 
for  a  time  between  Rome  and  the  Holy  Scriptures, 
they  took  refuge  in  that  living  Word  which  shed  a 
sudden  and  delightful  light  on  tlioir  snul^.  Meanwhile, 
some  evangelical  preacher  apinarrd.  |h  ihaps  a  priest, 
perhaps  a  monk.  He  spoke  with  i'|ni|iiriice  and  con- 
viction; he  declared  that  Christ  had  .sali,-.licd  fully  for 
the  sius  of  tho  people,  proving  from  Scripture  the 
vanity  of  human  works  and  penances.  A  formidable 
opposition  burst  forth.  The  clergy,  and  frequently  tho 
magistrates,  used  every  effort  to  bruig  back  those  souls 
which  they  would  have  destroyed ;  but  there  was  in 
the  new  preaching  an  accordance  with  Scripture,  and 
a  hidden  energy  which  won  men's  hearts,  subduing  the 
most  i-ebellious.  At  the  risk  of  their  goods,  or,  if  need 
were,  at  the  risk  of  their  lives,  they  embraced  the 
cause  of  the  Gospel,  and  abandoned  the  barren  fanatical 
orators  of  the  papacy.  Sometimes  the  people,  u-ritated 
at  being  so  long  imposed  upon,  compelled  the  priests 
to  withdraw;  but  more  frequently  the  priests,  aban- 
doned by  their  flocks,  without  tithes,  without  offerings, 
went  off  in  sadness  of  their  own  accord,  to  go  and  seek 
a  living  elsewhere.  And  while  the  props  of  the  ancient 
hierarchy  withdrew  sullen  and  downcast,  sometimes 
taking  leave  of  their  old  flocks  in  words  of  malediction, 
the  people,  overjoyed  at  having  found  truth  and  liberty, 
gathered  round  the  new  preachers  with  acclamation, 
and  eager  to  hear  the  Word,  carried  them,  as  it  were, 
in  triumph  into  the  church  and  the  pulpit. 

A  powerful  doctrine,  which  came  from  God,  was 
then  renovating  society.  The  people  or  their  leaders 
frequently  wrote  for  some  man  of  known  faith  to  come 
and  enlighten  them  ;  and  he,  for  the  love  of  the  Gospel, 
forthwith  abandoned  all — family,  friends,  and  country. 
Persecution  often  forced  the  friends  of  the  Reformation 
to  quit  their  homes.  Arriving  in  some  place  where  it 
was  not  yet  known,  finding  some  house  which  offered 
an  asylum  to  poor  travellers,  they  spoke  of  the  Gospel, 
read  some  pages  of  it  to  the  attentive  bm-ghers,  and 
obtained  leave,  perhaps  at  the  request  of  their  new 
friends,  to  preach  one  sermon  iu  the  church.  Then  a 
Viist  conflagration  burst  forth  in  the  town,  and  the 
utmost  efforts  were  unable  to  extinguish  it.  If  per- 
mission to  preach  in  the  church  was  denied,  they 
preached  elsewhere.  Every  place  became  a  church. 
At  Husum,  in  Holstein,  Hermann  Tast,  who  was  on 
his  way  from  Wittemberg,  and  against  whom  the  parish 
clergy  had  shut  the  church,  preached  to  an  immense 
crowd  in  the  burying-ground,  under  the  shade  of  two 
large  trees,  not  far  from  the  spot  where,  seven  centuries 
before,  Anschar  had  proclaimed  the  Gospel  to  the 
pagans.    At  Arnstadt,  the  Augustine,  Gaspard  GUttel, 


288 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


preached  in  the  mavket-pLace.  At  Dantzic,  the  Gospel 
was  preached  on  a  hill  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the 
town.  At  Gosslar,  a  student  of  AVitteraberg  preached 
the  new  doctrine  in  a  grove  of  linden  trees, — a  circum- 
stance which  procured  for  the  evangelical  Christians 
the  name  of  Linden  Brothers. 


While  the  priests  were  exhibiting  in  the  eyes  of  the 
people  a  sordid  avidity,  the  new  preachers  thus  ad- 
dressed them:  "We  received  it  freely,  and  we  give  it 
to  you  freely."  An  idea  often  proclaimed  from  the 
pidpit  by  the  new  preachers, — viz.,  that  Eome  had,  of 
old,  sent  the  Germans  a  corrupted  Gospel,  and  that 
Germany  was  now,  for  the  first  time,  hearing  the  Word 
of  Jesus  Christ  in  its  divine  and  primitive  beauty, 


produced  a  profound  impression.  Tlio  great  idea  of 
the  equality  of  all  men,  and  of  an  universal  brother- 
hood in  Jesus  Christ,  enraptured  those  who  had  long 
been  weighed  down  under  the  yoke  of  feudalism  and 
the  papacy  of  the  Middle  Ages. 

Often  unlettered  Christians,  with  the  New  Testament 

-,    in  their  hands,  offered  to  defend  the 

reformed  doctrine.  The  Catholics, 
adhering  to  Eome,  withdrew  in 
'  alarm;  for  the  business  of  studying 
the  Holy  Scriptures  was  committed 
to  priests  and  monks  only.  These, 
accordingly,  saw  themselves  obliged 
to  come  forward.  A  discussion  com- 
menced ;  but  the  priests  and  monks, 
o\  erwhelmed  by  laymen  with  quota- 
tions from  the  Holy  Scriptures,  soon 
knew  not  what  to  oppose  to  them. 
"Unfortunately,"  says  Coch- 
loeu?,  "  Luther  had  persuaded  his 
followers  that  faith  was  to  be  given 
only  to  the  oracle  of  the  sacred 
books."  A  shout  arose  in  the  as- 
sembly, and  proclaimed  the  shameful 
Ignorance  of  these  old  theologians, 
who,  till  then,  had  passed  with  their 
party  for  men  of  learning. 

The  humblest  individuals,  even 
the  weaker  sex,  with  the  help  of 
the  Word,  persuaded  and  gained 
converts.  Extraordinary  acts  are 
done  in  extraordinary  times.  At 
Ingolstadt,  under  the  very  eyes  of 
Doctor  Eck,  a  young  weaver  read 
the  writings  of  Luther  to  the  as- 
sembled multitude.  In  the  same 
place,  the  university  having  resolved 
to  force  a  retractation  from  a  pupil  of 
Melancthon,  a  female,  named  Argula 
of  Staufen,  undertook  his  defence, 
and  challenged  the  professors  to  a 
public  disputation.  Women  and 
chddren,  artisans  and  soldiers,  were 
moie  learned  in  the  Bible  than 
teachers  in  schools,  and  priests  at 
altars. 

Christendom  was  divided  into  two 
camps,  whose  appearance  presented 
a  striking  contrast.  Confronting  the 
old  supporters  of  the  hierarchy,  who 
had  neglected  the  acquisition  of  lan- 
guages and  the  cultivation  of  letters, 
(this  is  the  account  given  by  one  of 
themselves,)  stood  a  generous  youth, 
accustomed  to  study,  deeply  read  in 
the  Scriptures,  and  familiar  with  the 
masterpieces  of  antiquity.  Gifted  with  a  ready  under- 
standing, an  elevated  mind,  and  an  intrepid  heart,  these 
youths  soon  acquired  such  knowledge,  that  for  a  long 
time  none  could  compete  with  them.  Their  superiority 
to  their  contemporaries  consisted,  not  merely  in  their 
living  faith,  but  also  in  an  elegance  of  style,  a  savour 
of  antiquity,  a  true  philosophy,  a  knowledge  of  the 
world,  completely  imknown  to  the  theologians  veteris 


LITERATURE  AND  THE  PRINTING  PRESS. 


fariiM,  (of  the  old  stock,)  as  CochluMis  himself  desig- 
nates them.  Accordingly,  when  these  young  defenders 
of  the  Reformation  liappened  to  come  in  contact,  at 
some  public  meeting,  with  the  Roman  doctors,  tlicy 
attacked  them  with  so  much  ease  and  conlidence,  that 
the  illiterate  doctoi-s  hesitated,  became  confused,  and 
fell,  deservedly,  into  universal  contempt. 

The  ancient  edifice  gave  way  under  the  weight  of 
superstition  and  ignorance,  and  the  new  edifice  was 
reared  up  on  the  basis  of  faith  and  knowledge.  New 
olenicuts  were  introduced  into  common  life.  Lethargy 
and  stupidity  were  everywhere  succeeded  by  a  spirit 
of  itKiniry,  and  thirst  for  instruction.  An  active,  en- 
liu:litcncd,  and  living  faith  took  the  place  of  superstitious 
observances  and  ascetii'  contcTuplation.  Devout  works 
succeeded  devotee  practices  and  penances.  The  pulpit 
was  preferred  to  the  ceremonies  of  the  altar,  and  the 
ancient  and  sovereign  authority  of  the  Word  of  God 
was  again  established  in  the  Church. 

Printing,  that  mighty  engine  which  the  fifteenth 
century  had  invented,  seconded  all  these  efforts,  and 
by  means  of  its  powerful  projectiles,  was  continually 
making  breaches  in  the  waUs  of  the  enemy. 

In  Germany,  an  immense  impulse  was  given  to 
popular  literature.  Up  to  1517,  only  thirty-five 
))uI)lications  had  appeared;  but  the  number  increased 
with  astonisliing  rapidity  after  the  publication  of 
Luther's  theses.  lu  1518,  we  find  seventy-one  differ- 
ent works;  in  1519,  a  hundred  and  eleven;  in  1520, 
two  hundred  and  eight;  in  1521,  two  hundred  and 
eleven;  in  1522,  three  hundred  and  forty-seven;  in 
1528,  four  hundred  and  ninety-eight.  .  .  .  And 
Avhere  were  all  these  published?  Almost  invariably 
at  Wittemberg.  And  who  was  their  author?  Most 
frequently,  Luther.  In  1522,  two  hundred  and  thirty 
writings  of  the  Reformer  appeared;  and  in  the  follow- 
ing year,  one  hundred  and  eighty-three.  This  same 
year  the  whole  of  the  Catholic  publications  amounted 
only  to  twenty.  The  literature  of  Germany  was  thus 
formed  at  the  same  time  as  its  religion,  amidst  con- 
tention; and  already  gave  promise  of  being  learned, 
profound,  bold,  and  active,  as  it  has  since  appeared. 
The  national  mind  was  thus  displayed,  for  the  first 
time,  in  an  unsophisticated  form,  and  at  the  very  moment 
of  its  birth  was  baptized  with  the  fire  of  Christian 
enthusiasm. 

What  Luther  and  his  friends  composed,  others  dis- 
seminated. Monks,  convinced  of  the  unlawfulness  of 
monastic  ties,  desirous  to  substitute  a  life  of  activity 
for  long  idleness,  but  too  ignorant  to  be  themselves 
jjreachers  of  the  Word,  traversed  the  provinces,  and 
visited  tlie  hamlets  and  huts,  selling  the  works  of 
Luther  and  liis  friends.  Germany  was  soon  covered 
witli  these  bold  colporteurs.  Printers  and  booksellei-s 
eagerly  received  all  the  writings  in  defence  of  the 
Reformation,  but  declined  those  of  the  opposite  party, 
which  were  usually  a  mere  compound  of  ignorance  and 
barbarism.  When  any  one  of  them  ventured  to  sell 
a  book  in  favour  of  the  papacy,  and  to  expose  it  at 
fairs,  at  Frankfort,  or  elsewhere,  dealers,  piuxhasers, 
or  literary  men  assailed  him  with  a  shower  of  derision 
and  sarcasm.  In  vain  had  the  emperor  and  the 
princes  issued  severe  edicts  against  the  writings  of  the 
Reformers.     Whenever  an  inquisitorial  visit  was  to  be 


made,  the  merchants,  who  had  secret  notice  of  it,  con- 
cealed the  books  which  were  proscribed ;  and  the 
people,  always  eager  for  what  is  sought  to  be  kept 
from  them,  afterwards  got  possession  of  these  writings, 
and  read  them  more  greedily  than  before.  These 
things  were  not  confined  to  Germany.  Luther's 
writings  were  translated  into  French,  Spanish,  English, 
and  Italian,  and  disseminated  among  these  nations. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Lutlier  at  Zwickau— The  Cflstle  of  Freybcrs— Worms— Frankfort— Uuivcreal 
Jlovement— Wittemberg,  the  Centre  of  tlie  licfornintion— LuUier's 
Sentiments. 

If  the  humblest  individuals  inflicted  such  heavy  blows 
ou  Rome,  what  ntiist  it  have  been  when  the  monk  of 
Wittemberg  made  his  own  voice  be  heard?  Shortly 
after  the  defeat  of  the  new  prophets,  Luther,  dressed 
as  a  layman,  crossed  the  territory  of  Duke  George  in 
a  car.  His  frock  was  concealed,  and  his  appearance 
was  that  of  an  ordinary  citizen  of  the  country.  Had 
he  been  recognised,  or  had  he  fallen  into  the  hands  of 
the  angry  duke,  perhaps  it  would  have  been  all  over 
with  him.  He  was  going  to  preach  at  Zwickau,  the 
cradle  of  the  new  prophets.  No  sooner  was  this 
known  at  Schneeberg,  Annaberg,  and  the  neighbour- 
hood, than  crowds  began  to  flock  to  it.  Fourteen 
thousand  persons  arrived  in  the  town ;  and  as  there  was 
no  church  capable  of  containing  such  a  midtitude, 
Luther  got  up  on  the  balcony  of  the  town-house,  and 
preached  to  an  audience  of  twenty-five  thousand,  who 
covered  the  public  square,  some  of  them  seated  on  a 
heap  of  building  materials  which  happened  to  have 
been  laid  down.  The  servant  of  Christ  was  speak- 
ing with  fervour  on  the  election  of  grace,  when  sud- 
denly some  cries  were  heard  from  the  middle  of  the 
audience.  An  old  woman,  with  haggard  looks,  was 
stretching  out  her  bony  arms  from  the  top  of  the  stone 
on  which  she  stood,  and  seemed  desirous,  by  her  earnest 
gesture,  to  keep  back  the  crowd  who  were  going  to 
throw  themselves  at  the  feet  of  Jesus  Christ.  Her 
wild  cries  interrupted  the  preacher.  Seckendorff  says : 
"It  was  the  devil,  in  the  shape  of  an  old  woman, 
trying  to  excite  a  disturbance."  But  it  was  in  vain : 
the  voice  of  the  reformer  having  silenced  the  e^il 
spirit,  thousands  of  hearers  were  seized  with  a  feeling 
of  enthusiasm,  exchanging  looks,  and  shaking  hands 
■with  each  other.  The  monks,  struck  dumb,  could  not 
quell  the  storm,  and  shortly  saw  themselves  obliged  to 
quit  Zwickau. 

Duke  Henry,  the  brother  of  Duke  George,  was  re- 
siding in  the  castle  of  Freyberg;  he  was  married  to  a 
princess  of  Mecklenburg,  who,  the  year  before,  had 
given  him  a  son,  named  Maurice.  To  a  love  of  the 
table  and  pleasure,  Henry  joined  the  bluntness  and 
rudeness  of  a  soldier.  He  wa.s,  moreover,  pious,  after 
the  fashion  of  the  times,  and  had  made  one  pilgrimage 
to  the  Holy  Land,  and  another  to  St.  James  of  Compo- 
stella.  "At  Compostella,"  he  was  wont  to  say,  "I 
placed  a  hundred  gold  florins  on  the  altar  of  the  saint, 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


saying  to  him:  O!  St.  James,  it  was  to  please  you  I 
came  hither, — I  make  you  a  present  of  this  money; 
Init  if  those  rogues  (the  priests)  take  it  from  you,  I 
cannot  help  it :  look,  then,  to  yourself." 

A  Franciscan  and  a  Dominican,  disciples  of  Luther, 
had  for  some  time  been  preaching  the  Gospel  at  Frey- 
berg.  The  dutihess,  ivhose  piety  had  insiiired  her  with 
a  horror  at  heresy,  listened  to  their  discourses,  wonder- 
ing how  that  sweet  doctrine  of  a  Saviour  could  be  the 
doctrine  which  she  had  been  made  to  dread  so  much. 
Her  eyes  were  gradually  opened,  aud  she  found  peace 
in  Jesus  Christ.  No  sooner  did  it  reach  the  ears  of 
Duke  George,  that  the  Gospel  was  preached  at  Frey- 
berg,  than  he  prayed  his  brother  to  set  liis  face  against 
these  novelties.  Chancellor  Strehlin  and  the  canons 
seconded  him  with  their  fanaticism.  There  was  a 
great  explosion  at  the  court  of  Freyberg.  Dulve  Henry 
harshly  reprimanded  aud  upbraided  the  pious  duchess, 
who,  on  more  than  one  occasion,  shed  tears  over  the 
cradle  of  her  child.  Her  prayers  and  gentleness  gra- 
dually won  the  duke's  heart ;  the  harshness  of  his  nature 
was  softened,  and  complete  harmony  was  established 
between  the  spouses,  who  could  now  pray  together  be- 
side their  son.  A  great  destiny  was  reserved  for  this 
child ;  from  this  cradle,  over  which  a  Christian  mother 
had  so  often  poiu-ed  forth  her  griefs,  God  was  one  day 
to  bring  forth  the  defender  of  the  Reformation. 

The  inhabitants  of  Worms  had  been  deeply  moved 
by  Luther's  intrepidity.  The  magistrates  durst  not 
contravene  the  imperial  decree,  and  all  the  chiu-ches 
were  shut;  but  in  an  open  space,  covered  with  an 
immense  assemblage,  a  preacher  from  a  pulpit  of  rude 
construction  preached  the  Gospel  with  power.  If  the 
authorities  made  their  appearance,  the  crowd  dispersed 
in  a  moment,  secretly  carrying  off  the  pulpit ;  but  when 
the  storm  blew  over,  it  was  immediately  erected  in 
some  more  distant  spot,  whither  the  crowd  again  flocked 
to  hear  the  Word  of  Christ.  This  temporary  pulpit 
was  daily  carried  from  place  to  place,  and  served  to 
confirm  the  people  in  the  impression  which  they  had 
received  from  the  grand  scene  at  the  Diet. 

In  one  of  the  free  towns  of  the  empire,  Frankfort 
on  the  Maine,  the  greatest  agitation  prevailed.  Ibach, 
a  courageous  evangelist,  was  there  preaching  salvation 
by  Jesus  Christ.  The  clerg)',^-of  whom  Cochloeus,  so 
well  known  by  his  wi'itings  and  his  hatred,  was  one, — 
enraged  at  this  audacious  colleague,  denounced  hmi  to 
the  Archbishop  of  Mentz.  The  council,  though  timid, 
tried  to  defend  him,  but  in  vain ;  he  was  deposed  by 
tlie  clergy,  and  banished.  Rome  triumphed,  and  all 
seemed  lost.  The  faithful  in  humble  life  thought 
themselves  for  ever  deprived  of  the  Word.  But  at  the 
moment  when  the  citizens  seemed  disposed  to  yield  to 
those  tyrannical  priests,  several  of  the  nobility  declared 
in  favour  of  the  Gospel.  Max  of  Molnheini,  Hurmuth 
of  Cronberg,  George  of  Stockheim,  Emeric  of  Reiffen- 
stein,  whose  estates  were  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
Frankfort,  -m-ote  to  the  council :  "  We  are  constrained 
to  oppose  these  wolves."  In  an  address  to  the  clergy, 
they  say:  "Embrace  the  evangelical  doctrine,  recall 
Ibach,  or  we  will  withhold  our  tithes."     .     ,     . 

The  people  who  relished  the  reformed  doctrine  were 
emboldened  by  this  language  of  the  nobles ;  and  one 
day,  when  Peter  Mayer,  the  priest  most  opposed  to  the 


Reformation,  and  the  persecutor  of  Ibach,  was  going 
to  preach  against  the  heretics,  a  gi-eat  tumult  suddenly 
arose.  Mayer  took  fright,  and  rushed  out  of  the  church. 
This  commotion  decided  the  council,  who  issued  an 
order  enjoining  all  preachers  simply  to  preach  the 
AVord  of  God,  or  quit  the  town. 

The  light  which  had  radiated  from  Wittemberg  as 
its  centre,  was  thus  diffused  over  the  whole  empire. 
In  the  west, — the  districts  of  Berg,  Cleves,  Lippstadt, 
Munster,  Wesel,  Miltenberg,  Meutz,  Deux-Pouts,  and 
Strasburg,  heard  the  Gospel.  In  the  south, — Hof, 
Schlesstadt,  Bamberg,  EssUngen,  Halle  in  Swabia, 
Heilbronn,  Augsburg,  Ulm,  and  many  other  places, 
hailed  it  with  joy.  In  the  east, — the  duchy  of  Liegnitz, 
Prussia,  and  Pomerania,  opened  their  gates  to  it.  In 
the  north, — Brunswick,  Halberstadt,  Gosslar,  Zell, 
Frieslaud,  Bremen,  Hamburg,  Holstein,  and  even  Den- 
mark, and  other  neighbouring  countries,  were  moved 
at  the  sound  of  the  new  doctrine. 

The  elector  had  declared  that  he  would  give  the 
bishops  full  liberty  to  preach  in  his  states,  but  that  he 
would  not  deliver  any  person  up  to  them.  Accord- 
ingly, the  evangelical  preachers,  persecuted  in  other 
countries,  soon  began  to  take  refuge  in  Saxony.  Ibach 
of  Frankfort,  Eberlin  of  Ulm,  Kauxdorf  of  Magde- 
bourg,  Valentine  Musteus, — whom  the  canons  of  Hal- 
berstadt had  horribly  mutilated, — and  other  faithful 
ministers  from  all  parts  of  Germany,  flocked  to  AVit- 
temberg  as  the  only  asylum  in  which  they  could  feel 
secure.  There,  by  intercourse  with  the  reformers,  they 
had  their  own  faith  strengthened,  and  communicated 
the  results  of  their  experience,  and  of  the  light  which 
they  had  received,^ust  as  the  water  of  rivers  is 
brought  back  by  the  clouds  from  the  boundless  ocean 
to  feed  the  glaciers  from  which  it  formerly  flowed  into 
the  plain. 

The  work  which  was  in  course  of  development  at 
Wittemberg,  thus  composed  of  many  different  elements, 
was  constantly  becoming  more  and  more  the  work  of 
the  nation — of  Europe— of  Christendom.  This  school, 
founded  by  Frederick,  and  animated  by  Luther,  was 
the  centre  of  the  vast  revolution  which  was  renewing 
the  Chiu-ch,  and  imprinted  on  it  a  real  and  living  unity, 
far  superior  to  the  apparent  uuity  of  Rome.  The 
Bible  reigned  at  Wittemberg,  and  its  oracles  were 
everywhere  heard.  This  university,  the  most  recent 
of  all,  had  acquired,  in  Christendom,  the  rank  and 
influence  which  had  hitherto  belonged  to  the  ancient 
university  of  Paris.  The  crowds  who  flocked  to  it  from 
every  part  of  Europe,  told  the  wants  of  the  Church 
and  the  nations ;  and,  on  quitting  its  walls,  now  be- 
come sacred  in  their  eyes,  carried  back  to  the  Church 
and  to  the  people  the  Word  of  grace,  destined  to  cure 
and  save  the  nations. 

Luther,  at  the  sight  of  this  success,  felt  his  cour- 
age strengthened.  He  saw  a  feeble  enterprise,  begim 
amid  numerous  fears  and  agonies,  changing  the  face  of 
the  Christian  world,  and  he  was  astonished.  He  had 
foreseen  nothing  of  the  kind  when  he  first  rose  up 
against  Tetzel.  Prostrating  himself  before  the  God 
whom  he  adored,  he  acknowledged  that  this  work  was 
His  work,  and  he  triumphed  in  the  conviction  of  hav- 
ing gained  a  victory  which  could  not  again  be  wrested 
from  him.     "Our  enemies  threaten  us  with  death," 


LUTHER'S  SENTIMENTS. 


291 


said  he  to  the  Chevalier  Ilunmitli  of  Crouberg;  "had 
tliey  as  much  wisdom  as  they  have  folly,  it  would,  on 
the  contrary,  be  life  that  tlicy  would  threaten  us  with. 
It  is  not  mere  jest  or  insult  to  threaten  Christ  and 
Christians  with  death, — in  other  words,  those  who  are 
the  masters  and  the  conquerors  of  death.  It  is  as  if  I 
were  to  try  to  frighten  a  man  b}'  sadiUing  his  steed  and 
helping  him  to  mount  it.  Uo  they  not  know,  then, 
that  Christ  is  risen  from  the  dead?  As  to  them,  He  is 
still  lying  in  the  sepulchre.  Where  do  I  say.'  In  hell. 
But  we  know  that  He  lives!"  He  was  indignant  at 
the  idea  of  being  regarded  as  the  aiithor  of  a  work, 
in  the  minutest  details  of  which  he  recognised  the 
Iiand  of  God.  *'  Several,"  said  lie,  "  believe  on  my 
account ;  but  those  only  are  in  the  truth  who  would 
remain  faithful  though  they  were  to  believe  (which 
God  forbid)  that  I  had  denied  Jesus  Christ.  The  true 
discijdes  believe  not  in  Luther,  but  in  Jesus  Christ. 
For  my  own  part,  I  care  not  for  Luther.  Be  he  saint, 
or  be  "ho  rogue,  what  is  it  to  me?  It  is  not  him  I 
jireach ;  it  is  Christ.  If  the  devil  can  take  him,  let  him 
take  him.  But  let  Christ  remain  with  us,  and  we  shall 
remain  also." 

In  fact,  it  wei-e  vain  to  attempt  to  explain  this  move- 
ment by  natural  means.  The  literati,  it  is  true,  whetted 
their  pens,  and  threw  sharp  darts  at  the  monks  and  the 
pope, — the  cry  of  freedom,  which  Gennany  had  so 
often  raised  against  the  tyranny  of  the  Italians,  again 


resounded  in  castles  and  j)rovinccs, — the  people  rejoiced 
when  they  heard  the  notes  of  the  "  nightingale  of  Wit- 
temberg,"  a  presage  of  the  spring  which  was  every- 
where beginning  to  bud.  But  the  movement  which 
was  then  taking  place  was  not  similar  to  that  which  a 
longing  for  earthly  freedom  produces.  Those  who  say 
that  the  Kcfornuition  was  produced  by  offering  the 
jiroperty  of  convents  to  princes,  marriage  to  priests, 
and  liberty  to  the  people,  strangely  misapprehend  its 
nature.  No  doubt  a  useful  employment  of  the  funds 
which  had  till  then  fostered  the  idleness  of  monks, — no 
doubt  marriage  and  liberty,  both  of  them  gifts  from 
God,  might  favour  the  development  of  the  Reforma- 
tion ;  but  the  moving  force  was  not  there.  An  internal 
revolution  was  then  produced  in  the  depths  of  the 
human  heart.  The  Christian  people  again  learned  to 
love,  foi-give,  pray,  suffer,  and  even  die,  for  a  trutli 
which  promised  repose  only  in  heaven.  The  Church 
was  transformed.  Christianity  burst  the  swathes  which 
had  so  long  enwrapt  it,  and  again  returned  full  of  life 
to  a  world  which  had  forgotten  its  ancient  power. 
The  hand  which  made  the  world  was  again  at  work 
upon  it,  and  the  Gospel  re-appearing  amidst  the  nations, 
pursued  its  course  in  spite  of  the  powerful  and  reiterated 
efforts  of  kings  and  priests, — in  the  same  way  as  the 
ocean,  when  the  hand  of  God  presses  on  its  waves, 
rises  calmly  and  majestically  along  the  shore,  while  no 
human  power  is  capable  of  arresting  its  progress. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


BOOK     X. 


AGITATION,    REVERSES,    AND    PROGRESS. — 1522-1526. 


CHAPTER  I. 

rolitical  Element — Want  of  Enthusiasm  at  Rome— Siege  of  Pampeluna — 
Courage  of  Inigo— Transformation— Luther  anil  Loyola— Visions— The 
Two  Principles. 

The  Reformation,  which  at  first  had  existed  only  in 
tlie  heart  of  some  pious  individuals,  had  entered  the 
worship  and  life  of  the  Church.  It  was  natural  for  it 
to  take  a  new  step — to  penetrate  into  civil  relations 
and  the  movements  of  nations.  Its  progress  was  in- 
variably from  within  to  without.  We  shall  now  see 
this  great  revolution  taking  its  place  in  the  political 
world. 

For  nearly  eight  centuries  Europe  formed  a  vast 
sacerdotal  state.  Emperors  and  kings  were  under 
the  patronage  of  popes.  Though  there  had  been  in 
France,  and  especially  in  Germany,  energetic  resist- 
ance to  audacious  claims,  Rome  had  finally  succeeded, 
and  princes  had  been  seen  acting  as  the  docile  execu- 
tioners of  her  horrible  judgments,  fighting  in  order  to 
secure  her  empire  against  private  Christians  subject  to 
their  sway,  and  on  her  account  profusely  shedding  the 
blood  of  their  people. 

No  assaidt  could  be  made  on  this  vast  ecclesiastical 
state,  of  which  the  pope  was  the  head,  withcut  power- 
fully affecting  political  relations. 

At  this  time  two  great  ideas  agitated  Germany ;  on 
the  one  hand,  a  renovation  of  faith  was  desired ;  on 
the  other,  a  national  government,  in  which  the  Ger- 
manic states  should  be  represented,  and  a  counterpoise 
tliereby  formed  to  the  power  of  the  emperors. 

The  Elector  Frederick  had  insisted  on  this  at  the 
election  which  had  given  a  successor  to  Maximilian, 
and  young  Charles  had  acceded  to  it.  A  national 
government,  consisting  of  the  emperor  and  the  repre- 
sentatives of  the  electors  and  circles,  had,  in  conse- 
quence, been  formed. 

Thus  Luther  reformed  the  Church ;  and  Frederick 
of  Saxony  reformed  the  State. 

But  whQe,  in  correspondence  to  the  religious  reform, 
important  political  modifications  were  introduced  by 
the  heads  of  the  nation,  there  was  a  danger  that  "  the 
commonaUty  "  might  also  begin  to  move,  and,  by  reli- 
gious and  political  excesses,  compromise  both  refor- 
mations. 

This  violent  and  fanatical  intrusion  of  the  populace 
and  certain  of  their  leaders,  which  seems  inevitable 
whenever  society  is  shaken  and  transformed,  failed  not 
to  be  manifested  in  Germany  at  the  time  of  which  we 
now  treat. 

There  were  other  causes  besides  which  gave  rise  to 
these  agitations. 

The  emperor  and  the  pope  had  leagued  against  the 
Reformation,  which  seemed  destined  to  fall  under  the 


blows  of  such  mighty  adverearies.  Policy,  interest, 
and  ambition,  prompted  Charles  V.  and  Leo  X.  to 
attempt  its  destruction.  But  these  are  poor  champions 
against  the  truth.  Devotedness  to  a  cause  which  is 
regarded  as  sacred,  can  only  be  overcome  by  counter 
devotedness.  Now,  Rome,  docile  to  the  impulse  of 
Leo  X.,  was  enthusiastic  for  a  sonnet  or  a  melody, 
but  insensible  to  the  religion  of  Jesus  Christ.  Even 
when  visited  with  some  less  frivolous  thought,  instead 
of  purifying  herself  and  returning  to  the  Christianity 
of  the  apostles,  she  became  engrossed  with  alliances, 
wars,  conquests,  treaties,  under  which  she  might  save 
her  provinces,  while  with  cool  disdain  she  left  the 
Reformation  to  revive  religious  enthusiasm,  and  move 
forward  in  triumph  to  still  nobler  conquests.  The 
enemy,  whose  destruction  had  been  vowed  in  the 
basilisk  of  Worms,  presented  himself  full  of  courage 
and  might ;  the  struggle  behoved  to  be  keen ;  blood 
must  flow. 

Meanwhile,  some  of  the  most  pressing  dangers  with 
which  the  Reformation  was  threatened  seemed  to 
diminish.  One  day,  before  the  publication  of  the 
edict  of  Worms,  young  Charles,  when  standing  at  a 
window  with  his  confessor,  had  said,  putting  his  right 
hand  upon  his  heart :  "  I  swear  that  I  will  cause  the 
first  person  who,  after  the  publication  of  my  edict, 
will  declare  himself  a  Luther,  to  be  hung  at  this  win- 
dow." But  ere  long  his  zeal  had  become  greatly 
cooled.  His  project  of  re-establishing  the  ancient 
glory  of  the  holy  empire  had  been  received  with  cold- 
ness. Dissatisfied  with  Germany,  he  quitted  the  banks 
of  the  Rhine,  proceeded  to  the  Low  Countries,  and 
took  advantage  of  the  period  of  his  residence  there, 
to  give  the  monks  some  gratifications  which  he 
found  himself  unable  to  grant  them  within  the  empire. 
Luther's  works  were  burnt  at  Ghent  by  the  hands  of 
the  executioner  with  all  possible  solemnity.  More  than 
fifty  thousand  spectators  were  present  at  this  auto-da-fc', 
and  the  emperor  himself  countenanced  it  with  an  ap- 
proving smile.  He  next  proceeded  to  Spain,  when 
wars  and  troubles  compelled  him,  for  some  time  at 
least,  to  let  Germany  alone.  Since  the  power  which 
he  claims  in  the  empire  is  refused,  let  others  pursue 
the  heretic  of  Wittemberg.  He  is  engrossed  by  graver 
cares. 

In  fact,  Francis  I.,  impatient  to  come  to  blows  with 
his  rival,  had  thrown  down  the  gauntlet.  Under  the 
pretext  of  reinstating  the  children  of  John  of  Albert, 
king  of  Navarre,  in  their  patrimony,  lie  had  begun  a 
long  and  bloody  struggle,  which  was  to  last  as  long  as 
his  life,  by  sending  into  that  kingdom,  under  the  com- 
mand of  Lesparre,  an  army,  whose  rapid  conquests 
were  not  arrested  till  they  arrived  before  the  fortress 
of  Pampeluna. 


SIEGE  OF  PAMPELUNA— LOYOLA. 


293 


On  these  strong  fortifications  au  enthusiasm  was  to 
be  kindled  which  shouhl  one  day  oppose  the  enthusi- 
asm of  the  reformer,  and  breatlie  into  the  papacy  a 
new  spirit  of  energy,  devotedness,  and  power.  Pam- 
poluna  was  to  be  the  cradle  of  the  rival  of  the  monk 
of  Wittembcrg. 

The  chivalric  spirit  which  had  so  long  animated  the 
Christian  world,  now  existed  only  in  Spain.  The  wars 
against  the  Moors,  scarcely  ended  in  the  Peninsula, 
and  still  constantly  renewed  in  Africa,  with  distant  and 
adventurous  expeditions  in  foreign  lands,  kept  alive 
in  the  Castilian  youths  that  enthusiastic  and  spirited 
valour  of  which  Amadis  had  been  the  beau  ideal. 

Among  the  defenders  of  Parapcluna  was  a  young 
gentleman,  named  Don  Inigo  Lopez  of  Itecalda,  the 
cadet  of  a  family  of  thirteen  children.  Brought  up 
at  the  court  of  Ferdinand  the  Catholic,  Kccalda,  richly 
endowed  with  personal  graces,  skilful  in  the  use  of  the 
sword  and  the  lance,  was  ardent  in  the  pursuit  of 
chivalric  renown.  To  deck  himself  in  glittering  ar- 
mour, to  mount  a  noble  steed,  to  expose  himself  to  the 
brilliant  dangers  of  a  tournay,  to  run  hazardous  ad- 
ventures, to  take  part  in  the  impassioned  debates  of 
factions,  and  display  as  much  devotion  to  St.  Peter 
as  to  his  mistress, — -such  was  the  life  of  this  young 
knight.  The  governor  of  Navarre  having  gone  into 
Spain  to  ask  assistance,  had  left  Pampeluna  in  the 
charge  of  Inigo  and  a  few  nobles.  The  latter,  seeing 
the  superiority  of  the  French  troops,  resolved  to  with- 
<lraw.  Inigo  conjured  them  to  make  head  against 
Lesparre.  Finding  that  their  purpose  could  not  be 
shaken,  he  turned  upon  them  with  looks  of  indignation, 
accused  them  of  cowardice  and  perfidy,  and  then  threw 
himself  single-handed  into  the  fortress,  determined  to 
defend  it  at  the  cost  of  his  life. 

The  French,  who  had  met  with  an  enthusiastic 
reception  in  Pampeluna,  having  summoned  the  governor 
of  the  citadel  to  capitulate,  "Let  us,"  said  the  fiery 
Inigo  to  his  companions,  "bear  anything  sooner  than 
surrender."  The  French  began  to  batter  the  walls 
with  their  powerful  engines,  and  soon  after  attempted 
an  assault.  The  Spaniards,  animated  by  the  courage 
and  words  of  Inigo,  repulsed  the  assailants  with  their 
arrows,  swords,  and  halberds.  Inigo  fought  at  their 
head.  Standing  on  the  wall  with  blazing  eye,  the 
young  knight,  brandishing  his  sword,  dealt  blows  on 
the  enemy.  All  at  once  a  bullet  struck  the  wall  at  the 
place  where  he  was  defending;  a  shivered  stone  severely 
wounded  the  knight  in  his  right  leg,  and  the  shot,  in 
rebounding,  broke  his  left.  luigo  fell  insensible.  The 
garrison  immediately  surrendered;  and  the  French, 
filled  with  admiration  at  the  courage  of  their  young 
opponent,  caused  him  to  be  carried  in  a  litter  to  his 
friends  and  parents  in  the  Castle  of  Loyola.  lu  this 
seignorial  mansion,  from  which  he  afterwards  took 
his  name,  Inigo  was  born,  eight  years  after  Luther, 
of  one  of  the  most  distinguished  families  in  the  king- 
dom. 

A  painful  operation  had  become  necessary.  Amidst 
the  most  acute  sufferings,  Inigo  clenched  his  hands, 
but  did  not  utter  a  single  cry. 

Constrained  to  a  painful  repose,  he  behoved  somehoAv 
to  employ  his  lively  fancy.  In  the  absence  of  romances 
of  chivalry,  which  he  had  hitherto  been  accustomed  to 


devour,  he  was  furnished  with  the  ''  Life  of  ChrLst," 
and  the  "  Flowers  of  the  Saints."  Tliis  reading,  in  his 
solitary  and  sickly  condition,  produced  an  extraordinary 
impression  on  his  mind.  He  thought  he  saw  the  noisy 
life  of  tournaments  and  battles,  whicli,  till  then,  had 
completely  engrossed  his  youth,  withdrawn,  effaced,  and 
extinguished ;  and  at  the  same  time  a  more  glorious 
career  opened  on  his  astonished  sight.  The  humble 
actions  of  the  saints  and  their  heroic  sufferings  sud- 
denly appeared  to  him  more  deserving  of  praise  than 
all  the  feats  of  chivalry.  Stretched  on  his  feverish  bed, 
ho  gave  himself  up  to  the  most  contradictory  thoughts. 
The  world  which  he  was  abandoning,  and  the  other, 
whose  holy  macerations  he  was  welcoming,  appeared  to 
him  at  the  same  moment;  the  one  with  its  pleasures, 
the  other  with  its  severities.  These  two  worlds  carried 
on  a  fierce  combat  in  his  soul.  "What,"  said  he,  "if 
I  wore  to  do  wliat  St.  Francis  or  St.  Dominick  have 
doner'  Then  the  image  of  the  mistress  to  whom  he 
had  devoted  his  heart  presenting  itself  to  his  imagina- 
tion, he  exclaimed  with  natural  vanity:  "She  is  not  a 
countess,  she  is  not  a  duchess;  but  she  is  more."  But 
these  thoughts  left  a  feeling  of  bitterness  and  weariness, 
whereas  his  plan  of  imitating  the  saints  filled  him  with 
peace  and  joy. 

From  that  time  his  choice  was  fixed.  "When 
scarcely  recovered,  he  resolved  to  bid  adieu  to  the 
world.  After  having,  like  Luther,  partaken  of  au  en- 
tertainment with  his  companions  in  arms,  he  set  out 
alone,  in  the  gi-catest  secrecy,  for  the  solitary  abodes 
which  the  hermits  of  St.  Benedict  had  hewn  out  in  the 
rock  in  the  mountains  of  Montserrat.  Urged  on,  not 
by  a  conviction  of  his  sins  or  the  need  of  Divine  grace, 
but  by  a  longing  to  become  the  "  knight  of  Mary,"  and 
gain  renown  by  mortifications  and  pious  works,  like  all 
the  army  of  the  saints,  ho  confessed  dui-ing  three  days, 
gave  his  rich  clothing  to  a  beggar,  put  on  sackcloth,  and 
girded  himself  with  a  cord.  Then,  calling  to  mind  the 
celebrated  vigil  of  Amadis  of  Gaul,  he  hung  up  his 
sword  before  an  image  of  Mary,  and  passed  the  night 
watching  in  his  new  and  strange  costume.  Sometimes 
on  his  knees,  sometimes  standiug,  but  always  in  prayer, 
and  with  the  pilgrim's  staff  in  his  hand,  he  employed 
himself  in  all  the  devout  exercises  which  Amadis  of 
Gaul  had  of  old  performed.  "Thus,"  obsei-ves  the 
Jesuit  Maft'ei,  one  of  the  biographers  of  the  saint, 
"while  Satan  was  arming  Martin  Luther  against  all 
laws,  human  and  divine,  and  while  this  infamous  here- 
siarch  was  appearing  at  Worms,  and  there  declaring 
impious  war  on  the  apostolic  see,  Christ,  in  the  exercise 
of  His  Divine  providence,  was  raising  up  this  now 
champion,  and  binding  him,  and  at  a  later  period 
all  his  followers,  to  the  service  of  the  Roman  pontiff, 
opposing  him  to  the  licentiousness  and  fury  of  heretical 
perverseness." 

Loyola,  still  lame  in  one  leg,  dragged  along  through 
winding  and  desert  paths  to  Manresa,  and  there  entered 
a  convent  of  Dominicans,  that  he  might  devote  himself, 
in  this  obscure  spot,  to  the  severest  penances.  Like 
Luther,  he  daily  begged  his  bread  from  door  to  door. 
He  remained  seven  hoiu-s  on  his  knees,  and  flagellated 
himself  thrice  every  day;  at  midnight  he  was  again  at 
prayer.  He  allowed  his  hair  and  nails  to  grow;  and  it 
would  have  beeu  impossible  to  recognise  the  young 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


and  brilliant  knight  of  Pumpeluna  in  the  pale  wuu 
monk  of  Manresa. 

Meanwhile  the  moment  had  arri\  ed  when  the  reli- 
gious ideas  ■which  had  hitherto  been  to  Inigo  merely 
a  sport  of  chivalry,  were  to  reveal  themselves  to  him 
with  greater  seriousness,  and  make  him  feel  a  power  of 
which  he  was  stiU  ignorant.  Suddenly,  without  any 
presentiment  of  what  was  to  happen,  the  joy  which  he 
had  hitherto  experienced  disappeared.  lu  vain  did  he 
apply  to  prayer  and  the  singing  of  hymus :  he  coidd 
find  no  rest.  His  imagination  had  ceased  to  surrouud 
him  with  amiable  illusions:  he  was  left  alone  with  his 
conscience.  He  could  not  comprehend  a  state  which 
was  so  novel  to  him;  and  he  asked,  in  alarm,  whether 
God,  for  whom  he  had  made  so  many  sacrifices,  was 
still  angry  with  him.  Night  and  day  teiTors  agitated 
his  soul:  he  shed  bitter  tears;  and  with  loud  cries 
called  for  tjie  ])oace  which  he  had  lost  .  .  .  but 
all  in  vain.  He  then  resumed  the  long  confession 
which  he  had  made  at  Moutserrat.  ''It  may  be," 
thought  he,  ''I  have  forgotten  something."  But  the 
confession  only  increased  his  agony,  by  reminding  him 
of  all  his  faults.  He  wandered  gloomy  and  depressed: 
his  conscience  cried  aloud  that  during  his  whole  life  he 
had  done  nothing  but  heajjed  sin  upon  sin;  and  the 
unhappy  man,  overwhelmed  with  terror,  made  the 
cloister  echo  with  his  groans. 

Strange  thoughts  then  found  admission  into  his 
heart.  Experiencing  no  comfort  in  confession  and  the 
various  ordinances  of  the  Church,  he  began,  like 
Luther,  to  doubt  their  efficacy.  But,  instead  of  tm-ning 
aside  from  human  works,  and  applying  to  the  all- 
sufficient  work  of  Christ,  he  asked  if  he  ought  not 
again  to  pursue  worldly  glory.  His  soid  darted  im- 
petuously towards  the  world  from  which  he  had  fled ; 
but  he  immediately  drew  back  in  alarm. 

Was  there,  then,  some  difference  between  the  monk 
of  Manresa  and  the  monk  of  Erfiu-t?  In  secondary 
featm-es,  doubtless,  there  was;  but  the  state  of  their 
souls  was  the  same.  Both  had  a  deep  conviction  of 
the  magnitude  of  then-  sins.  Both  sought  reconciliation 
with  God,  and  wished  to  have  the  assurance  of  it  in 
their  hearts.  Had  a  Staupitz,  ynth  the  Bible  in  his 
hand,  presented  himself  at  the  convent  of  Manresa, 
Inigo  might,  perhaps,  have  become  the  Luther  of  the 
Peninsula.  These  two  great  men  of  the  sixteenth 
century — these  two  founders  of  the  two  spiritual 
powers,  which,  for  three  hundred  years,  have  been 
waiTiug  with  each  other,  were  at  this  time  brethren ; 
and,  perhaps,  had  they  met,  Luther  and  Loyola  would 
have  fallen  into  each  other's  arms,  and  mingled  their 
tears  and  their  vows. 

But  these  two  monks  were  from  this  moment  to 
follow  very  different  paths. 

Inigo,  instead  of  perceiving  that  his  remorse  was 
sent  to  urge  him  to  the  foot  of  the  cross,  persuaded 
himself  that  these  internal  upbraidings  came  not  from 
God,  but  from  the  devil;  and  adopted  the  resolution 
of  thinking  no  more  of  his  sins,  of  effacing  them,  and 
consigning  them  to  eternal  oblivion.  Liither  turned 
towards  Christ;  Loyola  only  fell  back  upon  himself. 

Inigo  was  shortly  after  confirmed  in  the  conclusion 
at  which  he  had  arrived  by  visions.  His  own  resolu- 
tions had  been  substituted  for  the  gi-ace  of  Christ,  and 


his  own  imagination  for  the  Word  of  Chi-ist.  The 
voice  of  God  in  his  conscience,  he  had  regarded  as  the 
voice  of  a  demon ;  and,  accordingly,  his  future  history 
exhibits  him  as  given  up  to  the  inspirations  of  the 
spirit  of  darkness. 

One  day  Loyola  met  an  old  woman,  just  as  Luther, 
in  the  time  of  his  agony,  had  been  visited  by  an  old 
man.  But  the  Spanish  female,  instead  of  telling  the 
])enitcnt  of  Manresa  of  the  remission  of  sins,  foretold 
him  of  apparitions  of  Jesus.  Such  was  the  (Jhristianity 
to  which  Loyola,  like  the  prophets  of  Zwickau,  had 
recourse.  Inigo  did  not  seek  the  truth  in  the  Holy 
Scriptures,  but  in  their  stead  imagined  immediate 
communications  from  the  kingdom  of  spirits.  His  life 
soon  consisted  only  of  ecstasies  and  contemplations. 

One  day,  while  going  to  the  church  of  St.  Paul, 
which  is  situated  outside  the  town,  plunged  in  medita- 
tion, he  followed  the  banks  of  the  Llobregat.  At  last 
he  sat  down.  His  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  river,  which 
was  slowly  roUmg  its  deep  waters  at  his  feet;  and  he 
became  completely  absorbed  in  meditation.  Suddenly 
he  was  seized  with  ecstasy:  he  saw  with  his  eyes 
what  men  scarcely  comprehend  after  much  reading, 
watching,  and  labour.  He  rose  up,  stood  on  the  brink 
of  the  river,  and  seemed  to  himself  to  become  a  new 
man:  he  afterwards  put  himself  upon  his  knees  before 
a  cross  which  happened  to  be  in  the  neighbourhood, 
disposed  to  sacrifice  his  life  in  the  cause,  the  mysteries 
of  which  had  just  been  revealed  to  him. 

From  that  time  his  visions  became  more  frequent. 
One  day,  while  seated  on  the  stair  of  St.  Dominick,  at 
Manresa,  he  was  singing  hymns  to  the  holy  Vii-gin. 
Suddenly  his  soul  was  seized  witli  ecstasy;  he  remained 
motionless,  absorbed  in  contemplation ;  the  mystery  of 
the  Holy  Trinity  was  revealed  to  his  eyes  under  mag- 
nificent symbols.  He  shed  tears,  sobbed  aloud,  and 
diu-ing  the  whole  day  ceased  not  to  speak  of  the  in- 
effable vision. 

These  numerous  apparitions  had  dissipated  all  his 
doubts.  Unlike  Luther,  he  believed,  not  because  the 
things  of  faith  were  written  in  the  Word  of  God,  but 
in  consequence  of  the  visions  which  he  had  seen. 
"  Even  though  there  had  been  no  Bible,"  says  his 
apologists, — "  even  had  these  mysteries  never  been  re- 
vealed in  Scripture, — he  woiUd  have  believed  them ; 
for  God  had  been  unveiled  to  him."  Luther,  on  re- 
ceiving his  degree  of  doctor,  had  taken  an  oath  to  the 
Holy  Scriptures;  and  the  authority  of  the  Word  of  God, 
the  only  infallible  authority,  had  become  the  funda- 
mental principle  of  the  Reformation.  Loyola  took  his 
oath  to  dreams  and  visions ;  and  fantastical  apparitions 
became  the  principle  of  his  life  and  of  his  faith. 

The  residence  of  Luther  in  the  convent  of  Erfurt, 
and  that  of  Loyola  in  the  convent  of  Manresa,  explain 
to  us  respectively  the  Eeformation  and  the  modern 
papacy.  We  shall  not  follow  the  monk  who  was  to 
reanimate  the  exhausted  powers  of  Rome  to  Jerusalem, 
whither  he  repaired  on  quitting  the  cloister.  We  shall 
meet  with  him  again  in  the  course  of  this  history. 


DEATH  OF  POPE  LEO  X. 


CHAPTER  II. 


Yaloiy  ol  tho  Pope— Death  of  Leo  X.— Oratory  of  Divine  Love 
Ailrian  VI.— Schemes  of  Reform— Oppositiou. 


While  these  things  were  pivssing  in  Spain,  Rome  lier- 
self  seemed  to  assume  a  more  serious  cliaractcr.  The 
great  patrou  of  music,  hunting,  and  festivity,  disap- 
peared fj-om  tlie  pontifical  tliroue  to  give  place  to  a 
grave  and  pious  monk. 

Leo  X.  had  felt  great  delight  on  hearing  of  the  edict 
of  Worms,  and  the  captivity  of  Luther  ;  and  fortiiwith, 
as  a  token  of  his  victory,  had  caused  the  etligy  and 
writings  of  the  reformer  to  be  given  to  the  ilames. 
Tiiis  wivs  the  second  or  third  time  that  the  papacy  had 
enjoyed  this  pleasure.  At  this  time  Leo,  wishing  to 
testify  his  gratitude  to  Charles  V.,  united  his  army  to 
that  of  the  emperor.  Tlic  French  were  obliged  to  quit 
Parma,  Placenza,  and  Milan ;  which  latter  town  was 
entered  by  a  cousin  of  the  pope,  Cardinal  Giulio  dc 
Medici.  The  pope  was  thus  mounting  to  the  pinnacle 
of  power. 

This  was  at  the  beginning  of  the  winter  of  1521. 
Leo  X.  was  accustomed  to  pass  the  autumn  in  the 
country,  and  at  this  time  left  Rome  without  his  surplice, 
and  what,  says  his  master  of  the  ceremonies,  was  still 
more  scandalous,  in  boots.  He  had  hawking  at  Viterbo, 
and  stag-hunting  at  Corneto,  enjoyed  the  sport  of  fish- 
ing in  the  lake  of  Bolseua,  and  then  went  to  pass  some 
time  in  the  midst  of  festivities  at  Malliana,  his  favourite 
residence.  Musicians,  improvisatori,  all  artists  whose 
talents  could  enliven  this  delicious  villa,  surrounded 
the  sovereign  pontiff.  He  was  here  at  the  time  when 
news  reached  him  of  the  taking  of  Milan.  The  whole 
villa  was  immediately  astir.  The  courtiers  and  officials 
could  not  restrain  their  joy.  The  Swiss  tired  feu  de 
jute;  and  Leo,  in  transport,  walked  up  and  down  his 
room  the  whole  night,  often  looking  out  of  his  window 
at  the  rejoicings  of  the  Swiss  and  the  people.  He  re- 
turned to  Rome,  fatigued,  but  intoxicated  with  delight. 
Scarcely  had  he  returned  to  the  Vatican  when  he  was 
suddenly  taken  ill.  "  Pray  for  me,"  said  he  to  his  ser- 
vants. He  had  not  even  time  to  receive  tho  holy  sacra- 
ment, and  died  in  the  vigour  of  life,  (forty-seven,)  in 
tiie  hour  of  triumph,  and  amid  the  noise  of  festivity. 

Tiie  people,  while  accompanying  the  hearse  of  the 
sovereign  pontiff,  gave  utterance  to  invectives.  They 
could  not  forgive  his  having  died  without  the  sacra- 
ments, and  left  debts  consequent  on  his  great  expendi- 
tiu-e.  "Thou  didst  rise  to  the  pontificate  as  a  fox," 
said  the  Romans ;  "  there  thou  playedst  the  lion,  and 
now  thou  art  gone  like  a  dog." 

Such  was  tlie  moiu-ning  with  which  Rome  honoured 
the  pope  who  excommunicated  the  Reformation,  and 
whose  name  serves  to  mark  one  of  the  great  epochs  in 
history. 

Meanwhile  a  feeble  re-action  against  the  spirit  of 
Leo  and  Rome  had  already  begun  in  Rome  hei-self. 
Some  pious  individuals  had  there  founded  an  oratory 
for  their  common  edification,  near  the  j)lace  wliere 
tradition  bears  that  the  meetings  of  the  primitive  Chris- 
tians were  held.    Contarini,  who  had  heard  Luther 


at  Worms,  took  the  lead  among  these  priests.  In  this 
way  a  species  of  Reformation  began  at  Rome  almost  at 
the  same  time  as  at  Wittemborg.  It  has  been  truly 
said,  tliat  wherever  there  are  germs  of  piety,  there  are 
also  germs  of  reform.  But  these  good  intentions  were 
soon  to  l)e  dissipated. 

At  other  times  the  choice  of  a  successor  to  Leo  X. 
would  have  fallen  on  a  Gregory  VU.,  or  an  Innocent 
III.,  if  they  coidd  have  been  found ;  but  the  interest  of 
the  empire  now  took  precedence  of  that  of  the  Church, 
and  Charles  V.  behoved  to  have  a  pope  who  was  de- 
voted to  himself.  The  Cardinal  de  Medici,  afterwards 
pope  under  the  name  of  Clement  VII.,  seeing  that  he 
could  not  yet  obtain  the  tiara,  exclaimed:  "Take  the 
Cardinal  of  Tortosa,  who  is  old,  and  universally  re- 
garded as  a  saint."  Tiiis  prelate,  born  at  Utrecht,  of 
burgher  parentage,  was,  in  fact,  elected,  and  reigned 
under  the  name  of  Adrian  \'I.  He  had  formerly  been 
a  professor  at  Louvain,  and  afterwards  became  precep- 
tor to  Charles,  by  whose  influence,  as  emperor,  he  was, 
in  1517,  invested  with  the  Roman  piu"j)le.  The  Car- 
dinal de  Vio  seconded  tho  proposal.  "Adrian,"  said 
he,  "  had,  through  the  doctors  of  Louvain,  a  gi-eat  share 
in  Luther's  condemnation."  Tho  cardinals,  worn  out 
and  off  their  guard,  appointed  this  stranger;  but  shortly, 
on  recovering  themselves,  "  they  were,"  says  a  clironi- 
cler,  "  as  it  were  dead  with  amazement."  The  idea 
that  the  rigid  Netherlander  would  not  accept  the  tiara, 
at  first  somewhat  solaced  them ;  but  this  was  of  short 
duration.  Pasquiu  caricatiu-ed  the  pontiff  elect  under 
the  figiu-e  of  a  schoolmaster,  and  the  cardinals  under 
that  of  boys  whom  he  was  chastising.  The  populace 
were  so  enraged  that  the  members  of  the  conclave  were 
happy  to  escape  without  being  thrown  into  the  river. 
In  Holland,  on  the  contrary,  there  were  great  rejoic- 
ings at  having  given  a  pope  to  the  Church.  "  Utrecht 
planted — Louvain  watered — the  emperor  has  given  the 
increase,"  was  displayed  on  tapestry  hung  in  front  of 
the  houses.  Some  one  wrote  beneath  :  "And  God  did 
nothing  at  all  in  the  matter!" 

Notwithstanding  the  dissatisfaction  originally  ex- 
pressed by  the  people  of  Rome,  Adrian  VL  repaired 
thither  in  August,  1522,  and  was  well  received.  It 
was  said  that  he  had  more  than  five  thousand  benefices 
at  his  disposal,  and  every  one  counted  on  obtaining  a 
share.  For  long  the  papal  throne  had  not  been  occu- 
pied by  such  a  pontiff.  Just,  active,  learned,  2>ious, 
simple,  of  irreproachable  manners,  he  did  not  allow 
himself  to  be  blinded  either  by  favour  or  auger.  He 
arrived  at  the  Vatican  with  his  old  housekeeper,  whom 
he  charged  to  continue  to  provide  for  his  modest  wants 
in  the  magnificent  palace  which  Leo  had  filled  with 
luxury  and  dissipation.  H^had  none  of  the  tastes  of 
his  predecessor.  AVhen  shewn  the  magnificent  statue 
of  the  Laocoon,  which  had  been  discovered  a  few  years 
before,  and  purchased  for  a  large  sum  by  Julius  II., 
he  turned  away  coldly,  saying:  "These  are  pagan 
idols."  "  I  woidd  far  rather,"  he  wrote,  "  serve  Grod 
as  provost  of  Louvain,  than  as  pope  of  Rome." 

Adrian,  struck  with  the  danger  with  which  the  Re- 
formation menaced  the  religion  of  the  Middle  Ages, 
and  not  like  the  Italians,  witii  those  to  which  it  ex- 
posed Rome  and  its  hierarchy,  was  sincerely  desirous 
to  combat  and  arrest  it ;  and  it  seemed  to  him  that  the 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


best  method  of  succeeding,  was  a  reform  of  the  Church 
produced  by  the  Church  herself.  "  The  Church,"  said 
he,  "  is  in  need  of  a  reform ;  but  we  must  proceed  in  it 
step  by  step."  "  The  opinion  of  the  pope,"  says  Luther, 
"  is,  that  between  two  steps  there  must  be  an  interval 
of  several  ages."  In  fact,  there  were  ages  when  the 
Church  was  moving  towards  a  Reformation.  It  was 
no  longer  time  to  temporize;  it  was  necessary  to  act. 

Adrian,  faithful  to  his  plan,  was  engaged  in  clearing 
the  city  of  the  profane,  of  forgers,  and  usurers.  The 
task  was  not  easy,  for  they  formed  a  considerable  part 
of  the  population. 

At  first  the  Romans  jeered  at  him;  but  shortly  they 
hated  him.  Sacerdotal  ascendancy,  and  the  immense 
profits  which  it  produced — the  might  of  Rome — the 
sports,  luxury,  and  festivities,  which  abounded  in  it, 
Avould  all  be  irrecoverably  lost  by  a  return  to  apostolic 
manners. 

In  particular,  the  restoration  of  discipline  encoun- 
tered energetic  opposition.  "  To  succeed  in  it,"  said 
the  grand  Penitentiary,  (a  cardinal,)  "  it  would  first  be 
necessary  to  bring  back  Christian  fervour.  The  cure 
is  too  much  for  the  strength  of  the  patient,  and  will  be 
his  death.  Have  a  care  that,  in  trying  to  preserve 
Germany,  you  do  not  lose  Italy."'  In  fact,  Adrian 
had  soon  much  more  to  dread  from  Romanism  than 
from  Lutheranism. 

Attempts  were  made  to  bring  him  back  to  the  path 
which  he  was  desirous  to  quit.  The  old  and  wily  Car- 
dinal Soderinus  de  Volterra,  an  intimate  friend  of 
Alexander  VI.,  Julius  II.,  and  Leo  X.,  often  expressed 
liimself  to  honest  Adrian  in  terms  fitted  to  acquaint 
him  with  the  part,  to  him  so  novel,  which  he  was  called 
to  perform.  "  The  heretics,"  said  he  to  him  one  day, 
"  have  at  aU  times  spoken  of  the  corrupt  manners  of 
the  com't  of  Rome ;  notwithstanding,  the  popes  have 
never  changed  them."  On  another  occasion  he  said : 
"  Hitherto  it  has  not  been  by  reforms  that  heresies 
have  been  extinguished,  but  by  crusades."  "Ah!"  re- 
jjlied  the  pontiff,  with  a  deep  sigh,  "how  luifoi'tunate  , 
the  condition  of  the  popes,  since  they  have  not  even  ' 
the  liberty  of  doing  good !" 


CHAPTER  IIL 

Diet  of  Kuremberg — Invasion  of  Solyiuaa — The  Nuncio  demands  tlie  Deatli 
of  Lutlier — Tlie  Preachers  of  Nuremberg — Promise  of  Reform — National 
Grievances — Decree  of  tlie  Diet — Thundering  Letter  of  the  PoiPe  — 
Luther's  Advice. 

On  the  23rd  March,  1522,  before  Adrian's  arrival  at 
Rome,  the  diet  had  assembled  at  Nuremberg.  Pre- 
vious to  this,  the  bishops  of  Mersbm-g  and  Misnia  had 
asked  permission  from  the  Elector  of  Saxony  to  make 
a  visitation  of  the  convents  and  churches  in  his  states. 
Frederick,  thinking  that  the  truth  should  be  strong 
enough  to  resist  error,  had  given  a  favourable  answer. 
The  visitation  took  place.  The  bishops  and  their  doc- 
tors preached  fiercely  against  reform.  They  exhorted, 
threatened,  supplicated;  but  their  arguments 
1  Sarpi,  "  Hist,  of  the  Council  of  Trent,"  p.  20. 


without  force,  and,  when  wishing  to  recur  to  more 
efficacious  weapons,  they  asked  the  secular  arm  to 
execute  their  decrees,  the  elector's  ministers  replied, 
that  the  affair  requii-ed  to  be  examined  by  the  Bible, 
and  that  the  elector  could  not,  at  his  advanced  age,  sit 
down  to  the  study  of  theology.  These  efforts  of  the 
bishops  did  not  bring  back  a  single  soul  to  the  fold  of 
Rome ;  and  Luther,  who,  a  short  time  after,  travelled 
over  these  countries,  and  made  his  powerful  eloquence 
be  heard,  effaced  any  feeble  impressions  which  tlicy 
had  produced. 

There  was  reason  to  fear  that  Archduke  Ferdinand, 
the  emperor's  brother,  would  do  what  Frederick  had 
refused.  This  young  prince,  who  presided  at  part  of 
the  sittings  of  the  diet,  gradually  assuming  more  reso- 
lution, might,  in  his  zeal,  rashly  draw  the  sword  which 
his  more  prudent  and  politic  brother  wisely  left  in  its 
sheath.  In  fact,  Ferdinand  had  commenced  a  cruel 
persecution  of  the  partisans  of  the  Reformation  in  his 
hereditary  states  of  Austria.  But  for  the  deliverance 
of  reviving  Christianity,  God  repeatedly  employed  the 
same  instrument  which  He  had  used  in  destroying 
corrupted  Christianity.  Tlie  crescent  appeared  in  the 
terrified  provinces  of  Hungary.  On  the  9th  of  August, 
after  a  siege  of  six  weeks,  Belgrade,  the  bulwark  of 
that  kingdom  and  of  the  empire,  yielded  to  the  assavdts 
of  Solyman.  The  followers  of  Mohammed,  after  their 
evacuation  of  Spain,  seemed  desirous  to  re-enter 
Europe  by  the  East.  The  Diet  of  Nuremberg  forgot 
the  monk  of  Wonns,  to  think  only  of  the  Luther  of 
Constantinople.  But  Charles  V.  kept  both  adversaries 
in  his  view.  Writing  the  pope  from  Valladolid  on  the 
31st  October,  he  said:  "It  is  necessary  to  arrest  the 
Turks,  and  punish  the  partisans  of  the  poisonous  doc- 
trines of  Lutiier  with  the  sword." 

The  storm  which  seemed  to  have  tm-ned  away  from 
the  Reformation,  and  proceeded  toward  the  East, 
gathered  anew  over  the  head  of  the  reformer.  His 
return  to  Witteinberg,  and  the  zeal  which  he  then  dis- 
played, had  awakened  the  old  hatred.  "Now  that  we 
know  where  to  take  him,"  said  Duke  George,  "let  the 
decree  of  "Worms  be  carried  into  execution ! "  It  was 
even  confidently  affinned  in  Germany,  that  both  the 
emperor  and  Adrian  would  appear  together  at  Nurem- 
berg to  advise  this.  "  Satan  feels  the  wound  wliich  he 
has  received,"  said  Luther,  "  and,  therefore,  puts  him- 
self into  all  this  rage.  But  Christ  has  ah-eady  stretched 
forth  His  hand,  and  will  trample  him  under  His  feet 
in  spite  of  the  gates  of  hell." 

In  December,  1522,  the  diet  again  assembled  at 
Nuremberg.  Everything  appeared  to  announce  that, 
if  Solyman  was  the  great  enemy  who  engrossed  the 
attention  of  the  spring  session,  Luther  would  be  the 
engrossing  one  of  the  vrinter  session.  Adrian  VI., 
being  of  German  origin,  flattered  himself  his  country- 
men would  give  him  a  more  favom-able  reception  than 
a  pope  of  Italian  origin  could  hope  for.  He  accord- 
ingly cliarged  Chieregati,  whom  he  had  known  in 
Spain,  to  repair  to  Nm-emberg. 

No  sooner  was  the  diet  met  than  several  princes 
made  violent  speeches  against  Luther.  The  Cardinal 
Archbishop  of  Salzbourg,  who  was  in  the  full  confi- 
dence of  the  emperor,  was  desirous  that  prompt  and 
decisive  measures  should  be  taken  before  the  amval 


PUNISHMENT  OF  LUTHER  DEMANDED. 


297 


of  the  Elector  of  Saxony.  The  Elector  Joachim  of 
Bniiidenburg,  always  resolute  in  his  coiu-sc,  and  the 
Chancellor  of  Treves,  were  equally  pressing  for  the 
execution  of  the  Diet  of  Worms.  The  other  princes 
wei-o,  in  a  great  measure,  mideciJed,  and  divided  in 
opinion.  The  state  of  turmoil  in  which  the  Church 
was  placed  tilled  her  most  faithful  servants  with 
anguish.  The  Bishop  of  Strasburg  broke  out  in  full 
diet  with  the  exclamation  :  "  I  would  give  one  of  my 
ten  lingers  not  to  be  a  priest." 

Chieregati,  in  unison  with  the  Archbishop  of  Salz- 
bourg,  demanded  the  death  of  Luther.  "  It  is  neces- 
sary," said  he,  on  the  part  of  the  pope,  and  with  a 
jiapal  brief  in  his  hands — "it  is  necessary  to  amputate 
tills  gangrened  limb  from  the  body.  Your  fathers 
at  Constance  put  to  death  John  Hu.ss  and  Jei-ome  of 
Prague;  but  they  revive  in  Luther.  Follow  the 
glorious  example  of  your  ancestors,  and,  with  the 
assistance  of  God  and  St.  Peter,  carry  off  a  magni- 
ficent victory  over  the  infernal  dragon," 

On  hearing  the  brief  of  the  j)ious  and  moderate 
Adrian,  the  most  of  the  princes  were  s(!ized  with 
terror.  Several  were  beginning  to  have  a  better  un- 
derstanding of  the  arguments  of  Luther,  and  had 
hoped  other  things  of  the  pope.  So  then,  Rome, 
uiiilri-  an  A<lrian,  refuses  to  acknowledge  her  faults; 
slir  i-  Mill  |ii.|,aring  her  thunder,  and  the  Germanic 
|iiii\  iihr,  air  111  be  covered  with  desolation  and  blood. 
While  till'  I'liiicTs  kept  a  innm-nful  silence,  the  prelates 
and  the  nunilHr-  ..f  tin'  diii  \\-tnv  in  an  uproar.  "Let 
him  be  put  in  dciili!"  i\i-lniiiied  they,  within  hearing 
of  the  euvuy  of  .Saxmiy,  who  was  present  at  the 
sitting. 

Ycry  different  expressions  were  heard  in  the  churches 
of  Nuremberg.  Crowds  flocked  into  the  chapel  of  the 
hospital  and  the  churches  of  the  Augustines,  St.  Sib- 
bald  and  St.  Laurence,  to  the  preaching  of  the  Gospel. 
Andrew  Osiander  preached  powerfully  in  the  latter 
church.  Several  princes,  and,  in  particular,  Albert, 
IVIargrave  of  Brandenburg,  who,  in  his  quality  of 
Grand  Master  of  the  Teutonic  Order,  took  rank  im- 
mediately after  the  archbishop,  was  a  frequent  atten- 
dant. Monks,  quitting  the  convents  of  the  town, 
learned  trades,  in  order  to  gain  a  livelihood  by  their 
own  hands. 

Chieregati  could  not  tolerate  this  boldness.  He  de- 
manded that  the  rebellious  priests  and  monks  should 
be  cast  into  prison.  The  diet,  notwithstanding  strong 
opposition  from  the  envoys  of  the  Elector  of  Saxony 
and  the  Margrave  Casimir,  resolved  to  order  the  ap- 
prehension of  the  monks,  but  agreed  previously  to 
coninumicate  the  nuncio's  complaints  to  Osiander  and 
his  colleagues.  A  committee,  with  the  fanatical  Car- 
dinal Salzbourg  for  its  president,  was  entrusted  with 
the  execution  of  it.  The  danger  was  imminent ;  the 
struggle  was  on  the  eve  of  commencing;  and  it  was 
with  the  National  Council  that  it  was  to  commence. 

However,  the  citizens  prevented  it.  While  the  diet 
was  deliberating  as  to  what  should  be  done  in  regard 
to  their  ministers,  the  town  council  was  deliberating  as 
to  what  should  be  done  in  regard  to  the  resolution  of 
the  diet.  The  decision  was,  that,  if  it  was  attempted 
by  the  strong  hand  to  carry  off  the  ministers  of  the 
town,  they  would,  with  the  strong  hand,  set  them  at 


liberty.  Such  a  resolution  was  significant.  The  diet, 
in  astonishment,  intimated  to  the  nuncio  that  it  was 
contrary  to  law  to  apprehend  the  ministers  of  the  free 
town  of  Nuremberg  without  having  convicted  them 
of  heresy. 

Chieregati  was  dee|)ly  moved  at  this  new  affront  lo 
the  omnipotence  of  the  pope.  '•  Very  well,"  said  he 
proudly  to  Ferdinand,  "  do  nothing  but  leave  mo  to 
act.  I  will  seize  these  heretical  preachei-s  in  the 
pope's  name."  No  sooner  had  the  Cardinal  Arch- 
bishop of  Mentz  and  the  Margrave  Casimir  been 
apprised  of  this  strange  resolution,  than  they  repaired 
in  haste  to  the  legate,  and  imjilored  him  to  altandon  it. 
The  nuncio  shewed  liiiiiscU'  inllrxililc,  ilerlarint:  lliat 
within  the  bosom  of  ( 1iri>i.iHl(.iu  Ihr  |.n|n-  uiu-t  In- 
obeyed.  Tlie  two  princes  l.iok  lia\r  nf  tlic  ligale, 
saying ;  "  If  you  persist  in  your  design,  we  call  upon 
you  to  give  us  intimation ;  for  we  will  quit  the  town 
before  you  have  proceeded  to  lay  hands  on  these 
preachers."     The  legate  abandoned  his  project. 

Having  no  longer  any  hope  of  succeeding  in  the  way 
of  authority,  he  resolved  to  have  recourse  to  other 
expedients,  and  with  this  view  communicated  to  tlic 
diet  the  intentions  and  injunctions  of  the  pontiff, 
which  he  had  hitherto  concealed. 

But  honest  Adrian,  who  was  a  stranger  to  the 
world,  by  his  very  frankness  injured  the  cause  which 
he  had  so  much  at  heart.  "  We  know  well,"  said  he, 
in  the  resolutions  transmitted  to  his  legate,  "  that  for 
several  years  many  abuses  and  abominations  have 
existed  in  the  holy  city.  The  contagion  has  spread 
from  the  head  into  the  members ;  it  has  descended 
from  the  popes  to  the  other  ecclesiastics.  We  desire 
the  reformation  of  this  Roman  court,  whence  proceed 
so  many  evils ;  the  whole  world  desires  it;  and  it  was 
with  a  view  to  its  accomplishment  that  we  were  resigned 
to  mount  the  pontifical  throne." 

The  partisans  of  Rome  blushed  for  shame  when  they 
heard  these  strange  words.  Like  Pallavicini,  they 
thought  the  confession  too  frank.  On  the  contrary, 
the  friends  of  the  Reformation  rejoiced  on  hearing 
Rome  proclaiming  her  corruption.  There  was  no 
longer  any  doubt  that  Luther  was  right,  since  the  pope 
himself  declared  it. 

The  reply  of  the  diet  shewed  how  much  the  authority 
of  the  sovereign  pontiff  had  fallen  in  the  empire.  The 
spirit  of  Luther  seemed  to  have  pa.ssed  into  the  hearts 
of  the  representatives  of  the  nation.  The  moment  was 
favourable ;  Adrian's  ear  was  open ;  the  emperor  was 
absent ;  the  diet  resolved  to  collect  into  one  body  all  the 
grievances  which  Germany  complained  of  against  Rome, 
and  despatch  them  to  the  pope. 

The  legate,  alarmed  at  this  determination,  suppli- 
cated and  menaced  by  turns,  but  in  vain.  The  secular 
estates  were  decided,  and  the  ecclesiastical  offered  no 
opposition.  Eighty-four  grievances  were  specified. 
The  abuses  and  stratagems  of  the  Roman  court  in 
making  extortions  on  Germany, — the  scandals  and  pro- 
fanations of  the  clergy, — the  irregularities  and  simony 
of  the  ecclesiastical  tribunals, — the  encroachment  on 
the  secular  power  in  enslaving  consciences, — were  ex- 
[josed  with  equal  frankness  and  force.  The  states 
liinted  that  human  traditions  were  the  source  of  all 
this  corruption.     They  concluded  thus :  "If  these  griev- 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


ances  arc  not  redressed  within  a  limited  time,  we  will 
consider  other  means  of  escaping  from  all  this  oppres- 
sion and  suffering."  Chierogati,  foreseeing  the  fearful 
detail  into  which  the  diet  would  enter,  quitted  Nurem- 
berg in  haste,  that  he  might  not  be  the  beai-er  of  so  dis- 
agreeable and  insolent  a  message. 

Still,  was  there  not  room  to  apprehend  that  the  diet 
might  be  willing  to  compensate  for  their  boldness  by 
sacriiicing  Luther?  It  was  thought  so  at  first ;  but  a 
spirit  of  truth  and  justice  had  fallen  on  this  assemblj'. 
They,  like  Luther,  demanded  that  a  free  council  shovild 
be  convened  in  the  empire ;  and  added,  that  until  it 
toolc  place  the  pure  Gospel  only  should  be  preached, 
and  nothing  should  be  printed  without  the  approbation 
of  certain  individuals  of  character  and  learning.  These 
resolutions  enable  us  to  apprehend  the  immense  pro- 
gress which  the  Keformatiou  had  made  since  the  Diet 
of  Worms;  and  yet  the  Saxon  envoy,  the  Chevalier 
von  Ferlitsch  protested  solemnly  against  any  censure 
which  the  diet  might  pronounce,  how  moderate  soever 
the  terms  might  be.  The  decision  of  the  diet  was  re- 
garded as  a  first  victory  gained  by  the  Eeformation, 
and  was  to  be  succeeded  by  others  still  more  decisive. 
Even  the  Swiss,  in  their  mountains,  thrilled  with  joy. 
'•  The  Roman  pontiff  is  vanquished  in  Germany,"  said 
Zwingle ;  "  all  that  remains  is  to  wrest  his  ai-ms  from 
him.  This  is  the  battle  we  have  now  to  wage,  and  it 
will  be  the  fiercest ;  but  we  have  Christ  as  witness  of 
the  combat."  Luther  declared  aloud  that  God  had  in- 
spired the  edict  of  the  princes. 

There  was  gi-eat  wrath  in  the  Vatican  among  the 
ministers  of  the  papacy.  What !  it  is  not  enough  to 
have  a  pope  who  disappoints  all  the  hopes  of  the 
Romans,  and  in  whose  palace  there  is  neither  music 
nor  play;  must  secular  jjrinces,  moreover,  hold  a  lan- 
guage which  Rome  detests,  and  refuse  the  death  of  the 
heretic  of  Wittemberg! 

Adrian  himself  was  very  indignant  at  the  proceed- 
ings in  Germany.  It  was  on  the  Elector  of  Saxony  he 
discharged  his  anger.  Never,  perhaps,  did  Rome  sound 
an  alarm  more  energetic,  sincere,  and  even  more  im- 
pressive. 

"  We  have  waited  long,  perhaps  too  long,"  said  the 
pious  Adrian,  in  the  brief  which  he  addressed  to  the 
elector ;  "  we  were  desirous  to  see  if  God  would  not  be 
pleased  to  visit  your  soul,  and  enable  you  at  last  to 
escape  from  the  snares  of  Satan.  But  where  we  hoped 
to  gather  grapes,  we  have  gathered  only  sour  grapes. 
The  Spirit  has  blown  in  vain.  Yom-  iniquities  have 
not  melted  away.  Open  your  eyes,  then,  and  see  the 
greatness  of  your  fall ! 

"  If  the  unity  of  the  Church  has  been  broken,  if  the 
simple  have  been  turned  aside  from  the  faith  which 
they  had  sucked  at  the  breasts  of  their  mother,  if  the 
churches  are  deserted,  if  the  people  are  without  priests, 
and  the  priests  no  longer  receive  the  honour  which  is 
due  to  them,  if  Christians  are  without  Christ,  to  whom 
do  we  owe  it,  if  not  to  yourself '?  .  .  .  If  Christian 
peace  has  fled  the  earth,  if  the  world  is  full  of  discord, 
rebellion,  robbery,  assassination,  conflagration ;  if  the 
cry  of  war  resounds  from  east  to  west ;  if  a  universal 
battle  is  preparing,  you — stUl  j'ou — are  the  cause ! 

'•Do  you  not  see  that  sacrilegious  man  (Luther) 
tearing  in  pieces  the  images  of  the  saints,  and  even  the 


sacred  cross  of  Jesus  Christ,  with  his  guilty  hands,  and 
trampling  them  under  his  impure  feet  ?  .  .  .  Do 
you  not  see  him,  in  his  impious  wrath,  stirring  up  the 
laity  to  wash  their  hands  in  the  blood  of  the  priests, 
and  throw  down  the  churches  of  the  Lord  ? 

"  What  matters  it  though  the  priests  whom  he 
attacks  be  bad  priests?  Has  not  the  Lord  said:  Do 
u'hat  they  say,  and  not  what  they  do;  thus  pointing  at  the 
honour  which  is  due  to  them  even  when  their  conduct 
is  culpable. 

"Rebellious  apostate!  he  is  not  ashamed  to  defile  the 
vessels  consecrated  to  the  Lord ;  he  plucks  from  tlicir 
sanctuaries  the  holy  virgins  consecrated  to  Christ,  and 
gives  them  to  the  devil;  he  takes  the  priests  of  the 
Lord  and  gives  them  up  to  infamous  prostitutes.  .  . 
Frightful  profanation!  at  which  the  pagans  even  would 
have  been  horrified,  had  they  seen  it  in  the  pontiffs  of 
their  idols! 

"  Of  what  punishment,  of  what  suffering,  think  you, 
then,  we  shall  deem  you  worthy?  .  .  .  Take  pity 
on  yourself,  take  pity  on  your  miserable  Saxons;  for  if 
you  are  not  speedily  converted,  God  will  cause  His 
vengeance  to  descend  upon  you. 

'•  In  the  name  of  God  Almighty  and  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  whose  representative  on  the  earth  I  am, 
I  declare  to  you,  that  you  will  be  punished  in  this 
world,  and  plunged  into  the  eternal  fire  in  that  which 
is  to  come.  Repent  and  be  converted !  .  .  .  Two 
swords  are  suspended  over  your  head — the  sword  of  the 
empire,  and  the  sword  of  the  popedom."     .     .     . 

The  pious  Frederick  trembled  on  reading  this  menac- 
ing brief.  A  short  time  before  he  had  written  to  the 
emperor  to  say,  that  old  age  and  sickness  rendered  him 
incapable  of  occupying  himself  with  these  affairs ;  and 
the  rei^ly  given  to  him  was  the  most  arrogant  letter 
that  ever  a  sovereign  prince  had  received.  AVeakened 
by  age,  he  cast  his  eyes  on  that  sword  which  he  had 
carried  to  the  holy  selpulchre  in  the  days  of  his 
strength.  He  began  to  think  it  might  be  necessary  to 
uusheath  it  in  defence  of  the  consciences  of  his  subjects ; 
and  that  already  on  the  brink  of  the  grave,  he  would 
not  be  able  to  go  down  to  it  in  peace.  He  immediately 
wrote  to  Wittemberg  for  the  advice  of  the  fathers  of 
the  Reformation. 

There,  also,  troubles  and  persecutions  were  foreseen. 
"  What  shall  I  say?"  exclaimed  the  mild  Melancthon  ; 
'"  to  what  side  shall  I  turn  ?  We  are  overwhelmed 
with  hatred,  and  the  world  is  transported  with  rage 
against  us."  Luther,  Liuck,  Melancthon,  Bugenhagen, 
and  Amsdorff,  consulted  together  as  to  the  answer  to 
be  returned  to  the  elector.  They  all  proposed  nearly 
the  same  answer.     Their  opinion  is  very  strilcing. 

"  No  prince,"  said  they,  "  can  undertake  a  war  with- 
out the  consent  of  the  people  from  whose  hands  he 
received  the  government.  Now,  the  people  have  no 
wish  to  fight  for  the  Gospel,  for  they  do  not  believe  it. 
Let  the  princes,  then,  not  take  up  arms;  they  arc 
princes  of  the  nations, — in  other  words,  of  unbelievers." 
Thus  it  was  the  impetuous  Luther  who  asked  sage 
Frederick  to  put  up  the  sword  into  its  sheath.  He 
could  not  give  a  better  answer  to  the  charge  brought 
against  him  by  the  pope,  of  stirring  up  the  laity  to  wash 
their  hands  in  the  blood  of  the  clergy.  Few  characters 
have  been  less  understood  than  his.     This  opinion  is 


DUKE  GEORGE'S  EXERTIONS. 


diitcd  the  8th  February,  1523.     Frederick  restrained 
himself. 

The  -HTath  of  the  pope  soou  bore  its  proper  fruits. 
The  princes  who  had  ex])oundcd  their  grievances 
against  Rome,  frightened  at  their  boldness,  sought  to 
appease  him  by  compliance.  Several,  besides,  declared 
that  victory  must  remain  with  the  j)ontiff  of  Rome,  as 
he  appeared  to  be  the  stronger.  "  In  onr  daj-,"  said 
Luther,  "  princes  content  themselves  with  saying,  three 
times  three  make  nine,  or  twice  seven  make  fourteen  : 
the  account  is  correct ;  the  affair  will  succeed.  Then 
our  Lord  ( Jod  rises  up  and  says :  '  For  how  much,  then, 
do  you  count  mo.'  .  .  .  For  a  cipher,  perhaps.^' 
Then  he  turns  their  calculations  upside  down,  and 
their  accounts  prove  erroneous." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

rcrseculion— Efforts  of  Duke  George— Tlie  Conveut  of  Antwerp— Mill'-n 
berg— Tlic  Three  Mouks  of  Antwerp— The  Soallold  — Martyrdom  at 
Brussels. 

The  flame  breathed  fortli  by  the  humble  and  meek 
Adrian  kindled  the  conflagi-atiou.  His  remonstrance 
caused  an  immense  sensation  throughout  Christendom. 
Persecution,  which  had  for  some  time  been  arrested, 
again  commenced.  Luther  trembled  for  Germany, 
and  strove  to  lay  the  storm.  "  If  the  princes,"  said  he, 
'•  set  themselves  in  opposition  to  the  truth,  the  result 
will  be  a  tumult,  which  will  destroy  princes,  magis- 
trates, priests,  and  people.  I  tremble  at  the  thought 
of  soou  seeing  .all  Germany  swim  in  blood.  Let  us 
interpose  as  a  wall,  and  preserve  our  people  from  the 
Lord's  anger.  The  people  arc  no  longer  what  they 
have  been  hitherto.  'JThe  sword  of  civil  war  is  suspended 
over  the  heads  of  kings.  They  wish  to  destroy  Luther; 
but  Luther  wishes  to  save  them.  Christ  lives  and 
reigns:  I  shall  live  and  reign  with  Him." 

These  words  were  without  effect :  Rome  was  hasten- 
ing on  towards  scaffolds  and  blood.  The  Reformation, 
like  Jesus  Clu-ist,  had  not  come  to  bring  peace,  but  a 
sword.  For  the  pm-poses  of  God,  persecution  was 
necessary.  As  objects  are  hardened  by  fire  to  protect 
them  from  the  influence  of  the  atmosphere,  so  a  trial 
by  tire  was  to  secure  evangelical  truth  against  the 
influence  of  the  world.  But  this  tire  did  more, — it 
served,  as  in  the  early  days  of  Christianity,  to  kindle 
an  imiversal  enthusiasm  for  the  cause  so  ^•irulently 
persecuted.  There  is  in  man,  when  he  begins  to  know 
the  truth,  a  holy  indignation  against  injustice  and 
violence.  An  instinctive  feeling,  which  comes  from 
God,  urges  him  to  take  part  with  the  oppressed ;  and, 
at  the  same  time,  the  constancy  of  martyrs  raises  and 
captivates  him,  and  hurries  him  on  towards  the  saving 
doctrine  which  gives  so  luuch  courage  and  so  much 
peace. 

Duke  George  headed  the  persecution.  But  he 
deemed  it  a  small  matter  to  employ  it  in  his  own 
states.  He  wished,  above  all,  to  sec  its  ravages  in 
electoral  Saxony — the  focus  of  heresy;  and  he  did 
everything  to  shake  the  electoral  Frederick  and  Duke 


299 


John.  Writing  them  from  Nuremberg,  he  says: 
•'Merchants  just  come  from  Saxony  relate,  with  re- 
gard to  it,  things  which  are  strange  and  contrary  to 
the  honour  of  God  and  the  saints ;  the  sacrament  of 
the  Supper  is  there  received  with  the  hand.  The  bread 
and  wine  are  consecrated  in  the  vulgar  toiujue ;  the 
blood  of  Christ  is  put  in  ordinary  vessels ;  and,  at 
Kuleuberg,  to  insult  the  priest,  a  man  even  entered  the 
church  mounted  on  an  ass  !  .  .  .  "What  is  the  con- 
sequence ?  The  minerals  with  which  God  had  enriched 
Saxony  begin  to  be  exhausted  since  the  innovating 
preachings  of  Luther.  Oh !  would  to  God  that  those 
who  boast  of  having  raised  up  the  Gospel  in  the 
electorate,  had  rather  carried  it  to  Constantinople ! 
Luther  luis  a  soft  and  pleasant  voice  ;  but  a  venomous 
tail,  which  stings  like  that  of  the  scorpion.  Let  us 
prepare  for  the  battle.  Let  us  throw  these  apostate 
monks  and  profane  priests  into  chains,  and  that  without 
delay;  for  our  remaining  locks,  as  well  as  beards,  grow 
white,  and  remind  us  that  we  have  only  a  few  days 
for  action." 

Thus  ■wrote  Duke  George  to  the  elector,  who  replied 
firmly  and  mildly,  that  whosoever  should  do  a  criminal 
act  within  his  states  should  not  escape  condign  punish- 
ment ;  but  that  matters  of  conscience  must  be  left  to 
God. 

George  not  being  able  to  persuade  Frederick,  has- 
tened, in  his  own  neighbourhood,  to  give  proof  of  his 
severity  against  the  cause  which  he  hated.  He  im- 
l)risoned  the  monks  and  priests  who  adhered  to  Luther. 
He  ordered  back  the  students  belonging  to  his  states 
who  were  studying  at  the  universities  tainted  with  the 
Reformation ;  and  he  ordered  all  New  Testaments  in 
the  vulgar  tongue  to  be  delivered  up  to  the  magistrates. 
The  same  course  was  followed  in  Austria,  Wurtemberg, 
and  the  Duchy  of  Brunswick. 

But  it  was  in  the  Low  Countries,  which  were  under 
the  immediate  authority  of  Charles  V..  that  the  per- 
secution burst  forth  with  greatest  fury.  The  Augustine 
convent  at  Antwerp  was  full  of  monks  who  had 
received  the  truth  of  the  Gospel.  Several  of  the  friars 
had  resided  some  time  at  AVittemberg,  and,  from  1510, 
preached  salvation  by  gi-ace  in  their  church  with  great 
energj'.  The  prior,  James  Probst,  who  was  of  a  fiery 
temperament,  and  Melchior  Mirisch,  who  was,  on  the 
other  hand,  distinguished  for  ability  and  prudence, 
were  arrested  and  carried  to  Brussels,  about  the  end 
of  1521.  Probst,  surprised  and  terrified,  recanted. 
Melchior  Mirisch  found  means  of  softening  his  judges, 
and  escaped  both  condemnation  and  recantation. 

These  persecutions  did  not  intimidate  the  monks  who 
were  left  in  the  convent  of  Antwerp.  They  continued 
vigorously  to  preach  the  Gospel.  The  people  flocked 
to  hear  them,  and  the  church  of  the  Augustines  proved 
too  small,  as  that  of  AVittemberg  had  done.  In  Octo- 
ber, 1522,  the  storm  which  was  gathering  over  their 
heads  biu-st ;  the  convent  was  shut  up,  and  the  monks 
were  imprisoned  and  condemned  to  death.  Some  made 
their  escape.  Some  females,  forgetting  the  timidity  of 
their  sex,  rescued  one  of  them,  Henry  of  Zuphten, 
from  his  executionei-s.  Three  young  monks,  Henry 
Voes,  John  Esch,  and  Lambert  Thorn,  for  some  time 
eluded  the  search  of  the  inquisitors.  All  the  vessel, 
of  the  convent  were  sold ;  the  building  was  barricaded  -. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  EBFORMATION. 


and  the  holy  sacrament  removed  from  it  as  from  a 
])lace  become  infamous.  Margaret,  the  regent  of  the 
Low  Countries,  received  it  solemnly  into  the  church  of 
the  Holy  Virgin.  Orders  were  given  that  this  heretical 
monastery  should  be  razed  to  its  foundations;  and 
several  citizens  and  females,  who  had  received  the 
Gospel  with  joy,  were  cast  into  prison. 

Luther  was  much  gi-ieved  on  learning  these  tidings. 
"The  cause  which  we  defend,"  said  he,  "is  no  longer 
a  simple  game  ;  it  wishes  blood ;  it  demands  life." 

The  fates  of  Mirisch  and  Probst  were  to  be  very 
different.  The  prudent  Mirisch  soon  became  the 
docile  servant  of  Rome,  and  the  executioner  of  the 
imperial  decrees  against  the  adherents  of  the  Reforma- 
tion. On  the  contrary,  Probst,  who  had  escaped  from 
the  inquisitors,  bewailed  his  fault,  withdrew  his  recan- 
tation, and,  at  Bruges  in  Flanders,  boldly  preached  the 
doctrine  which  he  had  abjured.  Arrested  anew  and 
impi'isoned  at  Brussels,  his  death  seemed  inevitable. 
A  Franciscan,  moved  with  pity,  aided  his  escape ; 
and  Probst,  "  saved  by  a  miracle  of  God,"  says  Luther, 
arrived  at  Wittemberg,  where  his  double  deliverance 
filled  the  hearts  of  the  friends  of  the  Reformation  with 

joy- 

The  Romish  priests  were  everywhere  in  arms.  The 
town  of  Miltenberg  on  the  Maine,  belonging  to  the 
Elector-archbishop  of  Mentz,  was  one  of  the  Germanic 
cities  which  had  received  the  Word  of  God  with  the 
greatest  readiness.  The  inhabitants  were  strongly 
attached  to  their  pastor,  John  Draco,  one  of  the  most 
enlightened  men  of  his  time.  He  was  compelled  to 
retire ;  but  the  Roman  ecclesiastics  quitted  at  the  same 
time,  dreading  the  popular  vengeance.  An  evangelical 
deacon  alone  remained  to  administer  spiritual  consola- 
tion. At  the  same  time  troops  from  Mentz  entered 
and  spread  over  the  town,  uttering  blasphemies,  brand- 
ishing their  swords,  and  giving  themselves  up  to 
debauchery. 

Some  evangelical  Christians  fell  under  their  blows ; 
others  were  seized  and  thrown  into  dungeons ;  the 
Romish  rites  were  again  set  up ;  the  reading  of  the 
Bible  was  prohibited  ;  and  the  inhabitants  were  for- 
bidden to  sjjeak  of  the  Gospel,  even  in  their  most 
private  intercoui'se.  On  the  entry  of  the  troops  the 
deacon  had  taken  refuge  in  the  house  of  a  poor  widow. 
He  was  denounced  to  the  rulers,  who  sent  a  soldier  to 
seize  him.  The  humble  deacon,  hearing  the  soldier 
who  was  seeking  his  life  advancing  with  hasty  steps, 
quietly  waited  for  him  ;  and  when  the  door  was  hastily 
opened,  he  rose  mildly  to  meet  him,  and  embracing 
him  cordially,  said :  "  I  salute  you,  my  brother ;  here 
I  am,  plunge  your  sword  into  my  bosom."  The  fierce 
soldier,  astonished,  let  his  sword  fall  from  his  hand, 
and  would  not  allow  any  harm  to  be  done  to  the  pious 
evangelist. 

Meanwhile,  the  inqiusitors  of  the  Low  Countries, 
thii-sting  for  blood,  scoured  the  country,  and  searched 
everywhere  for  the  young  Augustinea  who  had  escaped 
from  the  persecution  of  Antwerp.  Esch,  Voes,  and 
Lambert,  were  at  last  discovered,  chained,  and  carried 
to  Brussels.  Egmondanus,  Hochstraten,  and  some 
other  inquisitors,  summoned  them  before  them.  Hoch- 
straten asked :  "  Do  you  retract  your  assertion  that  the 
priest  has  not  power  to  pardon  sins,  and  that  pardon 


belongs  to  God  only  ?  "  He  next  enumerated  all  the 
evangelical  doctrines,  and  summoned  them  to  abjure 
them.  "  We  recant  nothing,"  exclaimed  Esch  and 
Voes  firmly;  "we  will  not  abjure  the  Word  of  God ; 
we  will  sooner  die  for  the  faitli ! " 

Inquisitor. — "  Do  you  confess  that  you  have  been 
led  astray  by  Luther  I" 

The  Young  Augustines. — "Just  as  the  apostles  were 
led  astray  by  Jesus  Christ." 

The  Inquisitors. — "  We  pronounce  you  heretics,  who 
deserve  to  be  burnt  alive ;  and  we  hand  you  over  to 
the  secular  arm." 

Lambert  was  still ;  he  was  afraid  of  death  ;  anguish 
and  doubt  agitated  his  soul.  "  I  ask  four  days,"  said 
he,  in  a  suppressed  tone.  He  was  taken  back  to 
prison.  As  soon  as  this  period  was  expired,  the  sacer- 
dotal consecration  was  formally  withdrawn  from  Esch 
and  Voes,  who  were  handed  over  to  the  council  of  the 
regent  of  the  Low  Countries.  The  council  handed 
them  over  hand-cuffed  to  the  executioner.  Hoch- 
straten, and  three  other  inquisitors,  accompanied  them 
even  to  the  scaffold. 

When  arrived  ueai-  the  scaffold,  the  young  martyrs 
eyed  it  calmly;  their  constancy,  their  piety,  their 
youth,  drew  tears  even  from  the  inquisitors.  When 
they  were  bound,  the  confessors  approached:  "We  ask 
you  once  more.  Will  you  receive  the  Christian  faith  ?  " 

The  Martyrs. — "We  believe  in  the  Christian  Church ; 
but  not  in  your  church." 

A  half  hour  passed  away:  it  was  hoped  that  the 
prospect  of  so  frightful  a  death  would  intimidate  the 
youths.  But,  the  only  persons  who  were  calm  amidst 
the  agitated  crowd  which  covered  the  public  square, 
they  sung  psalms,  occasionally  interrupting  this  em- 
ployment to  say  boldly:  "We  wish  to  die  for  the 
name  of  Jesus  Christ." 

"Be  converted,  be  converted,"  exclaimed  the  inqui- 
sitors, "  or  you  will  die  in  the  name  of  the  devil ! " — 
"  No,"  replied  the  martyrs ;  "  we  will  die  as  Christians 
for  the  truth  of  the  Gospel." 

The  pile  was  set  on  fire.  While  the  flame  ascended 
slowly,  Divine  peace  filled  their  hearts ;  and  one  of 
them  even  went  so  far  as  to  say:  "I  feel  as  if  reclining 
on  a  bed  of  roses."  The  solemn  horn-  had  come ;  death 
was  at  hand ;  the  two  martyi's,  with  loud  voice,  ex- 
claimed: "0  Domini  Jesii,  Fili  David,  miserere  nostri! 
— Lord  Jesus,  Son  of  David,  have  mercy  on  us  .'"  Then 
they  began  in  a  solemn  voice  to  repeat  the  creed.  At 
length  the  flames  reached  them  ;  but,  before  depriving 
them  of  life,  biu-ned  the  cords  with  which  they  were 
bound  to  the  pile.  One  of  them,  taking  advantage  of 
his  liberty,  threw  himself  on  his  knees,  and  thus 
worshipping  his  Master,  with  clasped  hands,  ex- 
claimed :  "  Lord  Jesus,  Son  of  David,  have  mercy  on 
us .'"  The  fire  suiTOunded  their  bodies  ;  they  sung  the 
Te  Deum  landamus.  Shortly  after  their  voice  was 
stifled  by  the  flames,  and  all  that  remained  of  them 
was  their  ashes. 

The  execution  had  lasted  four  hours.  It  was  on  the 
1st  July,  1523,  that  the  first  martyrs  of  the  Refor- 
mation thus  gave  their  lives  for  the  Gospel. 

All  good  men  shuddered  when  they  heard  of  it. 
The  future  excited  great  alarm.  "Executions  begin," 
said  Erasmus.    "At  length."  exclaimed  Luther,  "Jesus 


MARTYRDOM  OF  THREE  MONKS. 


Christ  gathers  some  fruit  from  our  doctrine.  He  forms 
uew  martyrs." 

But  tiic  joy  which  Luther  felt  at  the  fidelity  of  these 
two  Christian  youths  was  damped  by  the  thought  of 
Lambert.  lie  was  the  most  learned  of  the  three,  and 
had  taken  the  place  of  Probst  as  preacher  at  Antwerj). 
Agitated  in  his  dungeon,  and  afraid  of  death,  he  was 
still  more  alarmed  by  his  conscience,  which  reproached 
him  with  his  cowardice,  and  urged  him  to  confess  the 
Gospel.  Shortly  after,  having  got  the  better  of  his 
fe:u-s,  he  boldly  proclaimed  the  truth,  and  died  like  his 
brethren. 

A  rich  harvest  was  produced  from  the  blood  of 
these  martyrs.      IJni^i'ls  turnud  iMw^n-ds  the  Cr(>s])el. 


ST      GUDULE       BROS      EL<; 

"  Wherever  Aluaudei   i  ii  us  x  sc  ittold     -aid  Erasmus, 
"  the  effect  ia  tlie  same  is  if  he  sowed  heietics." 

'•Your  bond'5  ue  my  bonds,  e\cknned  Luther, 
"your  dungeons  my  dungeons,  and  your  scaffolds  my 
scaffolds!  .  .  .  We  are  all  with  you,  and  the  Lord 
is  at  our  head."  He  then  wrote  a  beautiful  poem  in 
celebration  of  the  death  of  the  young  monks.  In  a 
short  time  the  poem  was  sung  in  Germany  and  the 
Netherlands,  in  town  and  country,  everywhere  pro- 
ducing an  enthusiastic  feeling  for  the  faith  of  the 
martyrs: — 

No !  their  ashes  will  not  die : 

Abroad  tlieir  holy  dust  will  fly. 

And  scatter'd  o'er  earth's  farthest  strand, 

Raise  Tip  for  God  a  warlike  band. 

Satan,  by  taking  life  away. 

May  keep  them  silent  for  a  dayj 

lint  death  has  from  him  victory  wrung. 

And  Christ  m  every  clime  is  sung. 


CHAPTER  V. 

Now  Pope— The  Legate  Campeggio— Diet  of  Nuremberg— Demand  of  the 
Legate— Keply  of  the  Diet— Project  of  a  Secular  Council— Alarm  and 
Eflbrts  of  tlie  Pope— Bavaria— League  of  Ratisbon- Rigour  and  Rcfonn 
—Political  Schisms— Opposition— Intrigues  of  Rome— Edict  of  Bniges 
—Rupture. 

Adrian  would  doubtless  have  persisted  in  violent 
courses.  The  inefficacy  of  his  attempts  to  arrest  the 
Reformation,  his  orthodoxy,  his  zeal,  his  rigour,  his 


conscience  even  would  have  made  him  a  cruel  per- 
secutor. Providence  put  it  out  of  his  power.  On  the 
14th  September,  1.523,  he  died,  and  the  Romans, 
delighted  at  their  deliverance  from  this  rigid  stranger, 
decked  the  gate  of  his  physician  with  flowers,  placing 
over  them  the  inseriptiou — "To  the  saviour  of  his 
country." 

Julius  de  Medici,  cousin  of  Leo  X.,  succeeded,  under 
the  name  of  Clement  VII.  From  the  day  of  liis 
election  no  more  was  heard  of  religious  reform.  The 
new  pope,  like  many  of  his  predecessors,  thought  only 
of  upholding  the  privileges  of  the  papacy,  and  employ- 
ing them  as  the  means  of  extending  his  power. 

Wishing  to  repair  the  faidts  of  Adrian,  Clement  sent 
to  Nuremberg  a  legate  of  his  own  temper,  one  of  the 
ablest  prelates  of  his  court,  the  Cardinal  Campeggio,  a 
man  of  great  experience  in  business,  and  acquainted 
with  almost  all  the  princes  of  Germany.  The  legate, 
who  had  been  received  with  great  pomp  in  the  towns 
of  Italy,  soon  became  aware  of  the  change  which  had 
taken  place  in  the  empire.  On  entering  Augsburg, 
wishing,  according  to  custom,  to  give  his  benediction 
to  the  people,  he  was  received  with  laughter.  He  held 
it  as  pronounced,  and  entered  Nuremberg  incognito, 
without  repairing  to  the  church  of  St.  Sebald,  where 
the  clergy  were  in  attendance.  No  priests  went  before 
him  in  sacerdotal  garments;  no  crucifix  was  carried 
before  him  in  state.  One  would  have  said  it  was  an 
ordinary  individual  walking  along  the  street.  Every- 
thing announced  to  the  papacy  that  its  reign  was 
drawing  to  a  close. 

The  diet  had  again  been  opened  at  Nuremberg  in 
January,  1524.  A  storm  threatened  the  national 
government,  which  had  owed  its  existence  to  the  firm- 
ness of  Frederick.  The  Swabian  league,  the  wealthiest 
towns  of  Germany,  and,  above  all,  Charles  V.,  had 
vowed  its  destruction.  It  was  accused  of  favouring 
the  new  heresy.  Accordingly,  it  was  resolved  to  renew 
the  administration  without  retaining  one  of  the  old 
members.  Frederick,  in  vexation,  immediately  cpiitted 
Nuremberg. 

The  festival  of  Easter  being  at  hand,  Osiander  and 
the  evangelical  preachers  redoubled  their  zeal.  The 
former  jireached  openly  that  Antichrist  entered  Rome 
the  very  day  Constantino  the  Great  quitted  it  to  take 
up  his  residence  at  Constantinople.  The  consecration 
of  branches,  and  several  of  the  other  ceremonies  of  the 
festival,  were  omitted;  four  thousand  persons  received 
the  Supper  in  both  kinds;  and  the  Queen  of  Denmark, 
the  emperor's  sister,  received  it  publicly,  in  the  same 
form,  in  the  castle.  "Ah !"  exclaimed  the  Archduke 
Ferdinand  in  a  transport  of  rage,  "  I  wish  you  were 
not  my  sister!" — "The  same  womb  carried  us,"  replied 
the  queen;  "and  I  will  sacrifice  everything  to  please 
you  except  the  Word  of  God." 

Compeggio  shuddered  on  beholding  so  much  hardi- 
hood; but  affecting  to  despise  the  laughter  of  the 
people  and  the  sermons  of  the  preachers,  trusting  to 
the  support  of  the  emperor  and  the  pope,  he  reminded 
the  diet  of  the  edict  of  Worms,  and  demanded  that  the 
Reformation  should  be  suppressed  by  force.  At  these 
words  several  of  the  princes  and  deputies  expressed 
their  indignation.  "What,"  said  they  to  Campeggio, 
"  have  become  of  the  grievances  presented  to  the  pope 


302 


HISTORY  OF  THE  KBFOEMATION. 


by  the  Germauic  uafiou?"  The  legate,  in  accordance 
with  his  instructions,  assumed  an  air  of  simple  astonish- 
ment. "Three  copies  of  that  production,"  said  he, 
"  reached  Rome ;  but  we  had  no  official  communication 
of  it,  and  I  could  not  believe  that  a  document  so  imbe- 
coraing  could  have  emanated  from  your  lordships." 

The  diet  was  indignant  at  this  reply.  If  this  is  the 
way  in  which  their  representations  are  received  by  the 
pope,  they  too,  in  their  turn,  will  know  how  to  receive 
those  which  he  may  be  pleased  to  address  to  them. 
"The  people,"  said  several  deputies,  "are  thirsting  for 
the  AVord  of  God ;  and  to  force  it  from  them,  as  ordered 
by  the  edict  of  Worms,  were  to  cause  torrents  of  blood 
to  be  shed." 

The  diet  immediately  proceeded  to  prepare  an  answer 
to  the  pope.  Not  having  power  to  abolish  the  edict  of 
Worms,  they  appended  a  clause  which  virtually  an- 
nulled it.  "It  is  necessary,"  said  they,  "to  conform 
to  it  so  far  as  possible."  Several  states  had  declared 
that  it  was  impossible.  At  the  same  time,  evoking 
the  importunate  shade  of  the  councils  of  Constance 
and  Bale,  the  diet  demanded  that  an  universal  council 
of  Christendom  should  be  convened  in  Germany. 

The  friends  of  the  Reformation  did  not  stop  here. 
What  was  to  be  expected  from  a  council  which, 
perhaps,  never  would  be  called,  and  which,  in  all 
events,  would  be  composed  of  bishops  from  all  nations? 
A\''ould  Germany  submit  its  anti-Roman  feelings  to 
prelates  from  Spain,  Franco,  England,  and  Italy  .^  The 
national  government  having  been  overthrown,  its  place 
must  be  supplied  by  a  national  assembly  to  protect  the 
interests  of  the  people. 

In  vain  did  Hannaart,  who  had  been  sent  from 
Spain  by  Charles  V.,  and  all  the  partisans  of  Rome 
and  the  empire,  oppose  this  project.  The  majority  of 
the  diet  were  inflexible.  It  was  agreed  that  a  diet,  a 
secular  assembly,  should  meet  at  Spires  in  November, 
to  regulate  all  religious  questions,  and  that  the  States 
should  direct  their  theologians  forthwith  to  prepare  a 
list  of  the  controverted  points,  to  be  submitted  to  this 
august  assembly. 

The  task  was  immediately  commenced.  Each 
province  prepared  its  document.  Nevei-  had  Rome 
been  threatened  with  a  mightier  explosion.  Franconia, 
Brandenbm-g,  Henneberg,  Windsheim,  Wertheim, 
Nuremberg,  declared,  in  evangelical  terms,  against  the 
seven  sacraments,  the  abuses  of  the  mass,  the  worship 
of  saints,  and  the  supremacy  of  the  pope.  "  Here," 
said  Luther,  "  is  money  of  a  good  stamp."  Not  one 
of  the  questions  generally  agitated  will  be  passed  over 
in  silence  in  this  national  council.     The  majority  will 

obtain    general   measures The   unity   of 

Germany,  its  independence,  and  Reformation,  will  be 
secured. 

At  this  news  the  pope  could  not  restrain  his  anger. 
What!  Is  it  dared  to  establish  a  secular  tribunal  to 
decide  on  religious  matters,  and  that  contrary  to  his 
atithority?  If  this  monstrous  resolution  is  executed, 
no  doubt  Germany  is  saved,  but  Rome  is  destroyed! 
A  consistory  was  assembled  in  all  haste,  and  from  the 
agitated  state  of  the  senators,  it  might  have  been  sup- 
posed that  the  Germans  were  marching  on  the  Capitol. 
"  The  tiling  necessary,"  said  Aleander,  "  is  to  pluck 
the  electoral  hat  from  the  head  of  Frederick."     "  The 


kings  of  England  and  Spain,"  said  another  cardinal, 
"  must  threaten  to  break  off  all  intercourse  with  the 
free  towns."  At  last  the  congregation  decided,  that 
the  only  means  of  safety  was  to  stir  up  heaven  and 
earth,  in  order  to  prevent  the  meeting  at  Spires. 

The  pope  immediately  wrote  the  emperor:  "If  I 
am  the  first  to  face  the  storm,  it  is  not  because  I  am 
the  only  jjerson  threatened  by  it,  but  because  I  sit  at 
the  helm.  The  rights  of  the  empu-e  are  attacked  even 
more  than  the  dignity  of  the  court  of  Rome." 

While  the  pope  sent  tliis  letter  into  Castile,  he 
laboured  to  obtain  allies  in  Germany.  He  had  soon 
gained  one  of  the  most  powerful  houses  of  the  empire, 
that  of  the  dukes  of  Bavaria.  The  edict  of  Worms 
had  not  been  better  observed  there  than  elsewhere, 
and  the  evangelical  doctrine  had  made  great  progress  ; 
but  about  the  end  of  1521,  the  princes  of  the  country, 
having  been  shaken  by  Dr.  Eck,  the  chancellor  of  tlic 
university  of  Ingolstadt,  had  approximated  to  Rome, 
and  issued  an  edict,  by  which  they  enjoined  all  their  sub- 
jects to  remain  faithful  to  the  religion  of  their  fathers. 

The  Bavarian  bishops  testified  their  alarm  at  the 
proposed  encroachment  of  the  secular  power;  and  Eck 
set  out  to  Rome  to  petition  the  pope  to  extend  the 
influence  of  the  princes.  The  pope  granted  everything, 
and  even  bestowed  on  the  dukes  a  fifth  of  the  eccle- 
siastical revenues  of  their  couutr3^ 

Thus,  at  a  time  when  the  Reformation  had  not 
assumed  any  organized  form,  Roman  Catholicism  had 
recourse  to  powerful  institutions  for  its  support ;  and 
catholic  princes,  sanctioned  by  the  pope,  laid  hands  on 
the  revenues  of  the  Church  long  before  the  Reforma- 
tion ventured  to  touch  them.  What,  then,  must  be 
thought  of  the  charges  which  the  Roman  Catholics 
have  so  often  made  in  this  respect .' 

Clement  VII.  could  count  upon  the  dukes  of 
Bavaria  in  quelling  the  formidable  assembly  of  Spires. 
Shortly  after,  the  Archduke  Ferdinand,  the  Arch- 
bishop of  Salzbourg,  and  several  other  princes,  were 
also  gained. 

But  this  did  not  satisfy  Campeggio.  Germany  must 
be  divided  into  two  camps.  Germans  must  be  set 
against  Germans. 

During  liis  stay  at  Stuttgard,  the  legate,  in  concert 
with  Ferdinand,  had  sketched  the  plan  of  a  league 
against  the  Reformation.  " There  is  e\erything  to  be 
feared,"  said  he,  "  from  an  assembly  where  the  popular 
voice  will  be  heard.  The  Diet  of  Spires  may  destroy 
Rome  and  save  Wittemberg.  Let  us  close  our  ranks 
and  arrange  our  order  of  battle."  Ratisbon  was  fixed 
on  as  the  place  of  rendezvous. 

Notwithstanding  of  the  jealousy  between  the  houses 
of  Bavaria  and  Austria,  Campeggio  succeeded,  in  the 
end  of  June,  1524,  in  bringing  about  a  meeting  in  this 
town  between  the  dukes  of  Bavaria  and  the  Arch- 
duke Ferdmand.  The  Archbishop  of  Salzbourg,  and 
the  bishops  of  Trent  and  Ratisbon,  joined  them.  The 
bishops  of  Spires,  Bamberg,  Augsburg,  Strasburg, 
Bale,  Constance,  Freisingeu,  Passau,  and  Brixen, 
were  represented  by  deputies. 

The  legate  opened  the  meeting  with  an  energetic 
picture  of  the  dangers  to  which  the  Reformation 
exposed  the  princes  and  clergy.  "Let  us  extirpate 
heresy  and  save  the  Church!"  exclaimed  he. 


ROMAN  INTRIGUES. 


303 


The  conferences  coutiuiied  during  fiftcou  days  in  the 
town-house  of  Ratisbon.  A  grand  ball,  which  was 
kept  up  during  a  whole  night,  enlivened  this  fii-st 
Catholic  assembly  held  by  the  papacy  against  the 
rising  Reformation.  The  measures  intended  to  destroy 
the  heretics  were  afterwards  resolved. 

The  princes  and  bishops  engaged  to  execute  the 
edicts  of  Worms  and  Nuremberg, — to  allow  no  change 
in  public  worship, — to  give  no  toleration  within  their 
states  to  any  married  ecclesiastic, — to  recall  all  the 
students  belonging  to  their  states  who  might  be  at 
Wittomberg, — and  to  employ  all  the  means  in  their 
power  for  the  extirpation  of  heresy.  In  regard  to 
ditKcult  passages  of  Scripture,  preachers  were  enjoined 
to  confine  themselves  to  the  interpretation  given  by  the 
Fathers  of  the  Latin  Church, — viz.,  Ambrose,  Jerome, 
Augustine,  and  Gregory.  Not  daring,  in  presence  of 
the  Reformation,  to  re-establish  the  authority  of  the 
schoolmen,  they  contented  themsehes  with  laying  the 
first  fotmdations  of  Roman  orthodoxj-. 

On  the  other  hand,  not  being  able  to  shut  their  eyes 
to  the  scandals  and  corrupt  manners  of  the  priests, 
they  agreed  on  a  scheme  of  reform,  in  which  they 
agreed  to  pay  regard  to  those  German  grievances  in 
wiiich  the  court  of  Rome  were  least  concerned.  Priests 
were  forbidden  to  engage  in  trade,  to  haunt  taverns, 
frequent  dances,  and  engage  over  the  bottle  in  discuss- 
ing articles  of  faith. 

Such  was  the  result  of  the  confederation  of  Ratisbou. 
AVhile  taking  up  arms  against  the  Reformation,  Rome 
conceded  somewhat  to  it.  In  these  resolutions  may  be 
observed  the  first  influence  of  the  Reformation  of  the 
sixteenth  century,  in  effecting  an  intern.al  revival  in 
Catholicism.  The  Gospel  cannot  display  its  power 
without  compelling  its  opponents,  in  some  way,  to 
imitate  it.  Emser  had  opposed  a  translation  of  the 
Bil)le  to  the  translation  of  Luther,  and  Eck  '•  Common 
Places "  to  those  of  Melancthon ;  and  now  Rome 
opi)osed  to  the  Reformation  those  partial  attempts  at 
reform  to  which  we  owe  modern  Catholicism.  But  all 
these  act.s  of  Rome  were,  in  reality,  only  subtile  expe- 
dients to  escape  from  the  danger  which  threatened  her, 
— branches  plucked,  it  is  true,  from  the  tree  of  the 
Reformation,  but  planted  in  a  soil  in  which  they  could 
oidy  die.  Life  was  wanting,  and  always  will  be  want- 
ing, to  similar  attempts. 

We  are  here  presented  with  another  fact.  At  Ratis- 
bon  the  Roman  party  formed  the  first  league  which 
destroyed  German  unity.  It  was  in  the  camp  of  the 
pope  that  the  signal  for  battle  was  given.  Ratisbon 
was  the  cradle  of  that  schism — that  political  disruption 
of  Germany  which  still,  in  our  day,  so  many  Ger- 
mans deplore.  The  national  assembly  of  Spires  might, 
by  sanctioning  and  generalizing  the  reformation  of  the 
Church,  have  secured  the  unity  of  the  empire.  Tiie 
separatist  conventicle  of  Ratisbon  rent  the  nation  for 
ever  into  two  parties. 

Meanwhile,  the  projects  of  Campeggio  did  not  at 
first  succeed  so  well  as  had  been  imagined.  Few 
princes  responded  to  the  call.  The  most  decided 
opponents  of  Luther — Duke  George  of  Saxony,  the 
Elector  Joachim  of  Brandenberg,  the  ecclesiastical 
electors,  and  the  imperial  towns — took  no  part  in  it. 
The  feeling  was,  that  the  pope's  legate  was  forming  in 


Germany  a  Roman  party  against  the  nation  itself. 
The  popular  sympathies  counterbalanced  the  religious 
antipathies,  and  the  Reformation  ofBatiAon  soon  became 
the  object  of  popular  derision.  But  the  first  step  was 
taken, — the  example  was  given.  It  was  thought  that 
there  would  afterwards  be  little  difRculty  in  strengthen- 
ing and  extending  the  Roman  league.  Those  who 
still  hesitated  would  find  it  impossible  to  avoid  being 
hurried  along  by  the  progress  of  events.  To  the 
legate  Campeggio  belongs  the  honour  of  having  dis- 
covered the  mine  which  brought  the  Germanic  liberties 
within  a  finger's-breadth  of  destruction.  Thenceforth, 
Luther's  cause  ceased  to  be  entirely  of  a  religious 
nature;  the  dispute  of  the  monk  of  Wittemberg  held 
a  place  in  the  politics  of  Europe.  Luther  is  going  to 
be  eclipsed,  and  Charles  V.,  the  pope,  and  the  princes, 
will  be  the  principal  characters  on  the  theatre  where 
the  great  drama  of  the  sixteenth  century  is  to  be 
performed. 

The  assembly  of  Spires,  however,  was  still  in  per- 
spective; it  might  repair  the  mischief  which  Campeggio 
had  done  at  Ratisbon.  Rome,  therefore,  used  every 
effort  to  prevent  it.  "What!"  said  the  deputies  of 
the  pope,  not  only  to  Charles  V.,  but  to  his  ally  Henry 
Vni.,  and  the  princes  of  Christendom, — "What!  do 
those  proud  Germans  pretend  to  decide  questions  of 
faith  in  a  national  assembly?  Apparently  kings,  the 
imperial  majesty,  all  Christendom,  the  whole  world, 
will  be  obliged  to  stoop  to  their  decrees." 

The  moment  was  well  chosen  for  influencing  the 
emperor.  The  war  between  this  prince  and  Francis 
I.  was  at  its  height.  Pescara  and  the  Constable  de 
Bourbon  had  quitted  Italy  iu  May,  and  having  entered 
France,  laid  siege  to  Slarscillcs.  The  pope,  who  did 
not  regard  this  attack  with  a  friendly  eye,  was  able  to 
make  a  powerful  diversion  in  the  rear  of  the  imperial 
army.  Charles,  who  must  have  been  afraid  to  displease 
him,  did  not  hesitate ;  but  at  once  sacrificed  the  inde- 
pendence of  the  emperor  for  the  favour  of  Rome  and 
the  success  of  his  struggle  with  France. 

On  the  15th  July,  Charles,  at  Burgos  in  Castile, 
issued  an  edict,  in  which,  in  an  imperious  and  impas- 
sioned tone,  he  declared  '•  that  it  belonged  to  the  pope 
alone  to  assemble  a  council, — to  the  emperor  alone  to 
ask  it ;  that  the  meetiug  fixed  to  take  place  at  Spires 
could  not,  and  would  not,  be  tolerated ;  that  it  was 
strange  in  the  German  nation  to  undertake  a  work 
which  all  the  other  nations  of  the  world,  even  with  the 
pope,  would  not  be  entitled  to  do;  that  the  proper 
course  was  to  hasten  the  execution  of  the  decree  of 
Worms  against  the  new  Mohammed." 

Thus,  from  Spain  and  Italy  proceeded  the  stroke 
which  arrested  the  progress  of  the  Gospel  in  Germany. 
Tliis  did  not  satisfy  Charles.  In  1.519,  he  had  offered 
to  Duke  John,  the  elector's  brother,  to  marry  his  sister, 
the  Archduchess  Catherine,  to  John  Frederick,  the 
duke's  sou,  and  heir  to  the  electorate.  But  was  not 
this  the  house  of  Saxony,  which  maintained  the  prin- 
ciples of  religious  and  political  independence  in  Saxony, 
and  which  Charles  hated?  lie  determined  to  break 
entirely  -with  the  troublesome  and  criminal  representa- 
\\\£  of  evangelical  and  national  ideas,  and  gave  his 
sister  in  marriage  to  John  III.,  king  of  Portugal. 
Frederick,  who,  in  1519,  had  been  indifferent  to  the 


304 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


overt  lu-es  of  the  King  of  Spain,  was  able,  in  1524,  to 
suppress  the  indignation  he  felt  at  the  emperor's  coa- 
iluct ;  but  Duke  John  keenly  expressed  what  he  felt  at 
the  blow  thus  inflicted. 

Tiius  the  two    hostile    camps  which  were   long  to 
reud  the  empire  became  more  distinctly  marked. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

PiM-serulion — Gaspai'd  Tauber — A  Bookseller — Cruelties  in  Wmteiiiberg, 
Salzbourg,  Bavaria,  Pomerania— Heni-y  of  Zuplitcn. 

The  Romish  party  did  not  stop  here.  The  alliance  of 
Ratisbon  was  not  to  be  a  mere  form.  It  was  necessary 
that  it  should  be  sealed  with  blood.  Ferdinand  and 
Campeggio  went  down  the  Danube  together  from 
Ratisbon  to  Vienna,  and,  during  the  voyage,  gave  to 
each  nthor  pmnii  (  =;  (it  frnolt\.  Pci-cnitinn  inime- 
diat.l\  .   .1.11  11,      1  1  I  il       Vii  mm    i  ii 


A  citizen  of  Venice,  named  Gaspard  Tauber,  had 
circulated  the  works  of  Luther,  and  had  L.mself 
written  against  the  invocation  of  saints,  purgatory, 
and  transubstautiation.  Being  thrown  into  prison,  he 
was  summoned  by  the  judges,  as  well  theologians  as 
lawyers,  to  retract  his  errors.  It  was  thought  that  ho 
was  willing  to  do  so,  and  everything  was  prepared  to 
give  the  people  of  Vienna  the  solemn  spectacle.  On 
the  birthday  of  Mary,  two  desks  were  erected  in  the 
cemetery  of  St.  Stephen,  the  one  for  the  leader  of  the 
choir,  who  was  to  chant  in  celebration  of  the  heretic's 
repentance,  and  the  other  for  Tauber  himself.  The 
form  of  recantation  was  put  into  his  hand ;  the  people, 
the  singers,  and  the  priests,  were  waiting  in  silence. 
Whether    Tauber    had    not    given    any    promise,    or 


whether,  at  the  moment  of  abjuration,  his  faith  sud- 
denly revived  with  new  force,  he  exclaimed :  "  I  am 
not  convinced,  and  I  appeal  to  the  holy  Roman  em- 
pire." The  ecclesiastics,  the  choir,  and  the  people 
were  amazed.  But  Tauber  continued  to  demand  death 
sooner  than  deny  the  Gospel.  He  was  beheaded,  and 
his  body  was  burnt.  His  courage  made  a  lasting  im- 
pression on  the  citizens  of  Vienna. 

At  Bude,  in  Hungary,  an  evangelical  bookseller, 
named  John,  had  circulated  the  New  Testament  and 
Luther's  writings  throughout  the  country.  He  was 
tied  to  a  stake,  then  all  his  books  were  gradually  piled 
around  him,  and  set  on  fire.  John  displayed  unshaken 
courage,  exclaiming,  from  the  midst  of  the  flames,  that 
he  was  happy  in  suffering  for  the  Lord.  "  Blood  suc- 
ceeds blood !"  exclaimed  Luther,  on  hearing  of  his 
death  ;  •'  but  this  noble  blood  which  Rome  is  pleased 
to  shed,  will  at  length  suffocate  the  jiope  with  all  his 
kingdoms  and  all  his  kings." 

Fanaticism  became  more  and  more  inflamed  ;  evan- 
gelical ministers  were  driven  from  their  churches ; 
magistrates  were  banished  ;  sometimes  dreadful  execu- 
tif)n»  took  place.  In  Wurtemberg,  an  inquisitor  named 
Reichler,  caused  the  Lutherans,  and  especially  their 

■eachers,  to  be  hung  on  trees.  Barbarians  were  seen 
( I  lolly  nailing  ministers  to  the  stake  by  the  tongue,  so 
that  the  poor  sufferers,  in  struggling  or  tearing  them- 
s  I  Ives  from  the  wood  to  which  they  were  fastened,  to 
legain  their  liberty,  were  horribly  mutilated,  and  thus 
\\  ere  made  the  instruments  of  depriving  themselves  of 
that  gift  of  speech,  which  they  had  long  employed  in 
preaching  the  Gospel. 

The  same  persecutions  were  carried  on  in  the  other 
states  of  the  catholic  league.  An  evangelical  minis- 
1 1  r  of  Salzbourg  was  on  the  way  to  prison,  where  he 
would  have  ended  his  days.  While  the  officers,  who 
had  him  in  charge,  were  drinking  in  an  inn  on  the 
mad,  two  peasants,  moved  with  compassion,  eluded 
tlieir  vigilance,  and  delivered  the  pastor.  The  wrath 
lit  the  archbishop  was  inflamed  against  the  poor 
\(iuths ;  and,  without  any  legal  process,  he  gave  orders 
that  they  should  be  beheaded.  They  were  led  away 
-•ecretly,  at  an  early  hour,  beyond  the  town.  When 
they  arrived  at  the  spot  where  they  were  to  suffer,  the 
executioner  himself  hesitated ;  "  for,"  said  he,  "  they 
have  not  been  tried." — "Do  what  I  command  you," 
sharply  replied  the  commissary  of  the  archbishop, 
"and  leave  the  responsibility  to  the  prince!"  And 
the  heads  of  the  young  deliverers  immediately  fell 
under  the  sword. 

Persecution  raged  especially  in  the  states  of  the 
dukes  of  Bavaria ;  the  priests  were  deposed,  and  the 
nobles  banished  from  their  castles ;  informers  were 
employed  over  the  whole  of  the  country;  distrust  and 
terror  reigned  in  all  hearts.  A  magistrate,  named 
Bernard  Fichtel,  was  journeying  to  Nuremberg  on  the 
affairs  of  the  duke;  on  the  highway  he  fell  in  witli 
Francis  Burkhardt,  professor  at  Ingolstadt,  a  friend  of 
Dr.  Eck.  Burkhardt  accosted  him,  and  they  travelled 
on  together.  Aiter  supper  the  professor  began  to 
speak  of  religion.  Fichtel,  being  aware  of  his  com- 
panion, reminded  him  that  the  new  edict  prohibited 
such  conversation.  "  Between  us,"  replied  Burkhardt, 
"there  is  no  room  for  fear."     Fichtel  then  said:  "I 


HENRY  OF  ZUPHTEN. 


305 


do  not  believe  that  this  edict  can  ever  be  executed," 
and  expressed  himself  in  an  equivocal  manner  on  the 
subject  of  purgatory.  He  added  that  it  was  a  horrible 
thing  to  inflict  death  for  religious  opinions.  At  these 
words  Burkhardt  could  not  restrain  himself.  "What 
more  just,"  exclaimed  he,  "than  to  cut  off  the  heads 
of  all  these  villains  of  Lutherans!"  lie,  however, 
parted  with  Fichtel  on  good  terms ;  but  hastened  to 
inform  upon  him.  Fichtel  was  cast  into  prison  ;  and 
the  poor  man,  who  had  never  thought  of  becoming  a 
martyr,  aud  whose  convictions  were  not  deep,  only 
escaped  death  by  the  disgrace  of  a  recantation.  There 
was  now  no  safety  anywhere,  not  even  in  flio  l)o^;om 
of  a  friend. 


But  the  death  which  Fichtel  escaped,  others  met. 
In  vain  was  it  to  preach  the  Gospel  only  in  secret. 
The  dukes  persecuted  it  in  the  shade,  in  concealment, 
under  the  roofs  of  houses,  in  secret  retreats,  in  the 
fields. 

"  The  cross  and  persecution,"  said  Luther,  "  reign  in 
Bavaria ;  these  ferocious  beasts  carry  it  with  fury." 

Even  the  north  of  Germany  was  not  sheltered  from 
these  cruelties.  Bogislas,  duke  of  Pomerania,  having 
died,  his  sou,  who  had  been  brought  up  at  the  court 
of  Duke  George,  persecuted  the  Gospel ;  Suaven  and 
Knipstrow  were  obliged  to  save  themselves  by  flight. 

But  it  was  ill   Hnlstein   tliat   one   of   tlie   strongest 


Ilcmv  ot  Zuphten,  who  had  escaped,  is  we  have 
seen,  from  the  convent  of  Antwerp,  was  preaching  the 
Gospel  at  Bremen ;  Nicolas  Boye,  pastor  at  Mehldorf, 
in  the  Dittmarchcs,  and  several  pious  persons  in  that 
district,  having  invited  him  to  preach  the  Gospel  to 
them,  he  complied.  Forthwith  the  prior  of  the  Domi- 
nicans and  the  vicar  of  the  otficial  of  Hamburg  con- 
sulted together.  "If  he  preaches,  and  the  people  listen 
to  him,"  said  they,  "all  is  lost!"  The  prior,  after  a 
wakeful  night,  got  up  early  in  the  morning,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  the  wild  and  sterile  moor,  where  the  forty- 
eight  regents  of  the  country  usually  assembled.  "  The 
monk  of  Bremen  is  arrived,"  said  he  to  them,  "  to  ruin 
all  the  Dittmarches."  These  forty-eight  simple  aud 
ignorant  men,  who  were  assured  that  they  would 
acquire  great  renown  by  ridding  the  world  of  the 
heretical  monk,  resolved  to  put  him  to  death  without 
having  either  seen  or  heard  him. 


It  was  Situiday,  and  the  pnor,  wishmg  to  prevent 
Henry  from  preaching  on  Sunday,  arrived  at  midnight 
at  the  house  of  pastor  Boye,  with  the  letter  of  the 
forty-eight  regents.  "  If  it  is  God's  will  that  I  die  in 
the  Dittmarches,"  said  Henry  Zuphten,  "heaven  is  as 
near  there  as  anywhere  else.     I  shall  preach." 

He  mounted  the  pulpit  and  preaclied  powerfully. 
The  hearers,  touched  and  inflamed  by  his  eloquence, 
had  scarcely  left  the  church,  when  the  prior  put  into 
theii-  hands  a  letter  from  the  forty-eight  regents,  for- 
bidding them  to  allow  the  monk  to  preach.  They 
immediately  sent  their  representatives  to  the  heath, 
and,  after  long  debate,  the  Dittmarches  agreed  that, 
considering  their  complete  ignorance  of  the  matter,  they 
would  wait  till  Easter.  But  the  enraged  prior  waited 
on  some  of  the  regents,  and  anew  inflamed  their  zeal. 
"  We  will  write  him,"  said  they. — '•  Beware  of  doing 
so,"  replied  the  prior;  "if  he  begins  to  speak,  nothing 


HISTORY  OF  THE  KEFORMATIOISr. 


the 


can  be  done  to  him.     He  must  be  seized  durin[^ 
night,  and  burnt  before  he  can  open  his  mouth." 

It  was  so  resolved.  The  day  after  the  feast  of  the 
Conception,  after  it  was  night,  the  Ave  Mat-ia  was 
tolled.  At  this  signal  all  the  peasants  of  the  neigh- 
bouring villages  assembled,  to  the  number  of  five 
hundred;  and  their  leaders  having  caused  five  hogsheads 
of  Hamburg  beer  to  be  pierced,  in  this  way  iuspii-ed 
them  with  gj-eat  courage.  Midnight  struck  as  they 
reached  Mehldorf; — the  peasants  were  armed; — the 
monk's  carried  torches  ; — the  whole  proceeded  without 
order,  uttering  furious  cries.  On  arriving  at  the  village, 
they  kept  a  profound  silence,  lest  Henry  should  escape. 

The  doors  of  the  curacy  were  suddenly  burst  open, 
and  the  drunken  peasants  rushed  in,  striking  at  every- 
thing that  came  in  their  way.  They  threw  down 
vases,  kettles,  goblets,  clothes,  snatched  up  whatever 
gold  or  silver  they  could  find,  and  pouncing  on  the 
poor  pastor,  struck  him,  crying :  "  Kill  him  !  kill  him  ! " 
They  then  threw  him  into  the  mire.  But  Henry  was 
their  object.  They  pulled  him  from  his  bed,  bound 
his  hands  behind  his  back,  and  dragged  him  after 
them.  '-What  brought  you  here?"  they  asked.  Henry 
having  answered  mildly,  they  exclaimed:  "Away! 
away!  if  we  listen  to  him  we  will  become  heretics  like 
himself."  He  had  been  hurried  naked  over  the  ice  and 
snow,  his  feet  were  bleeding,  and  he  begged  they  would 
put  him  on  horseback.  '■  Good  sooth,"  replied  they 
in  derision,  "  we  are  going  to  furnish  heretics  with 
horses  !  Get  along ! " — And  they  continued  to  drag 
him  till  they  reached  the  heath.  A  woman,  who  was 
at  the  door  of  her  house  as  the  poor  servant  of  God 
passed,  began  to  cry.  '•  Good  woman,"  said  Henry  to 
her,  '•  weep  not  for  me."  The  bailie  pronounced  his 
condemnation.  Then  one  of  the  furious  men  who  had 
brought  him  struck  the  servant  of  Jesus  Christ  over 
the  head  with  a  sword;  another  struck  him  with  a 
club.  Next,  a  poor  monk  was  brought  to  receive  his 
confession.  "  Brother,"  said  Henry  to  him,  "  did  I 
ever  do  you  any  harm?" — "No,"  replied  the  monk. 
— "Then  I  have  nothing  to  confess  to  you."  The 
monk  withdrew  in  confusion.  Many  ineffectual  attempts 
were  made  to  light  the  pile.  In  this  way  the  martyr 
stood  for  two  hours  before  these  furious  peasants, — 
calm,  and  with  his  eyes  raised  towards  heaven.  As 
they  were  binding  him  to  throw  him  on  the  pile,  he 
began  to  make  confession  of  his  faith.  "  Burn  first," 
said  a  peasant,  striking  him  on  the  mouth  with  his  fist, 
"  and  you  will  speak  after."  He  was  thrown  down, 
but  fell  on  the  side  of  the  pile.  John  Holme,  seizing 
a  club,  struck  him  on  the  breast,  and  he  lay  stretched 
out  dead  on  the  burning  faggots.  "  Such  is  the  true 
history  of  the  sufferings  of  the  holy  martyr,  Henry  of 
Zuphten." 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Divisions— Lord's  Supper — Two  Extremes— Carlstadt — Luther — Mystiuisir 
of  the  Anabaptists -Carlstadt  at  Orlamund— llission  of  Luther- 
Interview  at  Dinner— Conference  of  Orlamund— Carlstadt  Banished. 

The  Reformation,  while  the  Romish  party  were  every- 
where drawing  the  sword  against  it,  was  undergoing 


new  developments.  It  is  not  at  Zurich  or  Geneva,  but 
at  Wittemberg,  the  centre  of  the  Lutheran  revival, 
that  we  must  trace  the  begiunings  of  that  reformed 
Church,  of  which  Calvin  has  become  the  greatest 
doctor.  These  two  great  families  slept  in  the  same 
cradle.  The  union  ought  also  to  have  crowned  their 
age.  But  the  question  of  the  Supper  having  been  once 
raised,  Luther  violently  rejected  the  reformed  element, 
and  found  himself  and  his  Church  in  an  exclusive 
Lutheranism.  The  chagrin  which  he  felt  at  this  rival 
doctrine  deprived  him  somewhat  of  the  good  humour 
which  was  natural  to  him,  and  gave  him  a  spirit  of 
distrust,  a  habitual  dissatisfaction  and  imtation,  which 
he  had  not  shewn  previously. 

It  was  between  two  old  friends — between  the  cham- 
pions who,  at  Leipsic,  had  fought  together  against 
Rome — between  Carlstadt  and  Luther  that  this  dispute 
arose.  Their  attachment  to  contrary  doctrines  pro- 
ceeded, both  in  the  one  and  in  the  other,  from  estimable 
feelings.  In  fact,  there  are  two  extremes  in  religion; 
the  one  consists  in  materializing,  the  other  in  spiritualiz- 
ing everything.  The  former  is  the  extreme  of  Rome — 
the  latter,  that  of  the  mystics.  Religion,  like  man 
himself,  consists  of  body  and  soul ;  the  pure  idealists, 
as  well  as  the  materialists,  are  equally  wrong,  both  in 
religion  and  in  philosophy. 

Such  is  the  grand  discussion  which  lies  hid  under 
the  dispute  as  to  the  Supper.  While,  on  a  superficial 
glance,  we  see  only  a  paltry  quarrel  about  words,  a  more 
profound  examination  discovers  in  it  one  of  the  most  im- 
portant controversies  which  can  occupy  the  human  mind. 

The  reformers  thus  form  two  great  divisions;  but 
each  of  them  carries  with  it  a  portion  of  the  truth. 
Luther,  with  his  adherents,  mean  to  combat  an 
exaggerated  spiritualism.  Carlstadt  and  the  reformed 
attack  a  hateful  materialism.  Each  opposes  the  error 
which  he  deems  most  fatal,  and,  in  opposing  it,  perhaps 
goes  beyond  the  truth.  But  no  matter;  each  of  them 
is  true  in  its  general  tendency;  and  though  belonging 
to  different  armies,  these  two  distinguished  doctors  are 
ranged  under  one  common  banner — that  of  Jesus 
Christ,  who  alone  is  the  truth  in  its  fullest  extent. 

Carlstadt  thought  that  nothing  could  be  more  hurtful 
to  true  piety  than  confidence  in  external  ceremonies, 
and  in  a  certain  magical  influence  in  the  sacraments. 
Rome  had  said  that  external  participation  in  the 
sacrament  of  the  Supper  was  sufficient  to  save,  and 
this  principle  had  materialized  religion.  Carlstadt  saw 
nothing  better  fitted  to  spiritualize  it  anew  than  to 
deny  all  bodily  presence  of  Christ;  and  he  taught  that 
the  sacred  repast  was  merely  a  pledge  to  believers  of 
their  redemption. 

On  this  subject  Luther  took  quite  an  opposite 
direction.  He  had,  at  the  outset,  maintained  the  view 
which  has  just  beeu  indicated.  In  his  writing  on  the 
mass,  which  appeared  in  1520,  he  said:  "I  can  every 
day  enjoy  the  sacraments,  if  only  I  remember  the 
word  and  promise  of  Christ,  and  with  it  nourish  and 
strengthen  my  faith."  Neither  Carlstadt,  Zwingle, 
nor  Calvin,  has  ever  said  anything  stronger.  It  even 
seems  that,  at  this  period,  the  idea  often  occurred  to 
him,  that  a  symbolical  explanation  of  the  Supper  would 
be  the  most  powerful  weapon  completely  to  overthrow 
the  whole  popish  system;  for  in  1525,  he  says  that,  five 


CARLSTADT  AND  LUTHER. 


307 


years  before,  he  had  fought  many  hard  battles  in 
defence  of  this  doctrine;  and  that  any  one  who  could 
have  proved  to  him  that  there  was  nothing  but  bread 
and  wine  in  the  Supper,  would  have  done  him  an 
immense  service. 

But  new  circumstances  occurred,  which  engaged  him 
in  an  opposition,  sometimes  passionate,  to  these  very 
views  to  which  he  had  so  nearly  approximated.  The 
fanaticism  of  the  Anabaptists  explain  the  direction 
which  Luther  then  took.  These  enthusiasts  were  not 
satisfied  with  setting  little  value  on  what  they  called 
the  external  word,  in  other  words,  the  Bible,  and 
pretending  to  special  revelations  of  the  Holy  Sph-it; 
they  also  went  the  length  of  despising  the  sacrament 
of  the  Supper  as  soraL'thing  external,  and  to  speak  of 
internal  communion  as  alone  true.  Tiienceforth,  in  all 
the  attempts  which  were  made  to  explain  the  doctrine 
of  the  Supper  in  a  symbolical  manner,  Luther  saw 
nothing  but  the  danger  of  shaking  tlie  authority  of  the 
Holy  Scriptures,  of  substituting  arbitrary  allegories  for 
their  true  meaning,  of  spiritualizing  everything  in 
religion,  making  it  consist,  not  in  divine  graces,  but  in 
human  impressions;  and  thus  substituting  for  true 
Christianity  a  mysticism,  a  theosophy,  a  fanaticism, 
which  would  inevitably  become  its  tomb.  It  must  be 
acknowledged  that,  but  for  the  powerful  opposition  of 
Lutlicr,  the  mystical,  enthusiastic,  and  subjective 
tendency,  would  then,  in  all  probability,  have  made 
rapid  progress,  and  trampled  under  foot  all  the 
blessings  which  the  Reformation  was  destined  to 
diffuse  in  the  world. 

Carlstadt,  impatient  at  not  being  able  freely  to 
develop  his  faith  at  Wittcmberg,  urged  by  his  con- 
science to  combat  a  system  which,  according  to  him, 
"lowered  the  death  of  Christ,  and  annihilated  his 
righteousness,"  resolved  "  to  make  an  outbreak  for  the 
love  of  poor  deluded  Christendom."  He  quitted  Wit- 
temberg  in  the  beginning  of  1524,  without  notice  either 
to  the  university  or  the  chapter,  and  repaired  to  the 
little  town  of  Orlaniund,  whose  chiu-ch  was  under  his 
sui)erintendence.  He  caused  the  vicar  to  be  deposed, 
and  himself  to  be  appointed  pastor  in  his  stead;  and 
in  spite  of  the  chapter,  the  university,  and  the  elector, 
fixed  himself  in  this  new  post. 

Here  he  soon  disseminated  his  doctrine.  '-It  is 
impossible,"  said  he,  "  to  find  in  the  real  presence  any 
advantage  which  does  not  flow  from  faith  without  it ; 
it  is  therefore  useless."  In  explaining  the  words  of 
Christ  in  the  institution  of  the  Supper,  he  had  recourse 
to  an  interpretation  which  the  reformed  churches 
have  not  received.  In  the  Leipsic  discussion,  Luther 
had  explained  the  words.  Thou  art  Peter,  and  on  this 
rock  I  will  build  m>/  Church,  by  separating  the  two 
clauses,  and  applying  the  latter  to  the  person  of  the 
Saviour.  "In  the  same  way,"  said  Carlstadt,  '■'take, 
eat,  refers  to  the  breatl;  but,  this  is  mi/  body,  refers  to 
Jesus  Christ,  who  then  shewed  hunself,  and  intimated 
by  the  symbolical  sign  of  the  breaking  of  bread,  that 
the  body  was  soon  to  be  destroyed." 

Carlstadt  did  not  stop  here.  No  sooner  had  he 
broke  loose  from  the  tutelage  of  Luther,  than  he  felt 
a  revival  of  his  zeal  against  images.  His  imprudent 
harangues,  his  enthusiastic  expressions,  must  easily,  in 
these   times    of    fermentation,   have   inflamed   men's 


minds.  The  people,  thinking  they  heard  a  second 
Elijah,  broke  the  idols  of  Baal.  This  zeal  reached  the 
surrounding  villages.  Tlie  elector  wished  to  interfere; 
but  the  peasants  answered  him,  that  it  was  necessary 
to  obey  God  rather  than  man.  The  jirince  resolved  to 
send  Luther  to  Orlaraund  to  establish  peace.  Luther 
saw  in  Carlstadt  a  man  devoured  by  a  love  of  renown, 
a  fanatic,  who  would  allow  himself  to  be  carried  the 
length  of  making  war  on  Jesus  Christ  himself. 
Frederick  might  perhaps  have  made  a  wiser  choice. 
Luther  set  out ;  and  Carlstadt  saw  his  troublesome 
rival  once  more  disaiTangiug  his  plans  of  reform,  and 
arresting  his  course. 

Jena  is  on  the  road  to  Orlamund.  On  arriving  in 
this  town  on  the  23rd  August,  Luther  mounted  the 
pulpit  at  seven  in  the  morning,  and  spoke  for  an  hour 
and  a-half  in  presence  of  a  numerous  audience,  against 
fanaticism,  rebellion,  the  destruction  of  images,  and 
contempt  of  the  real  presence,  in  particular,  inveighing 
strongly  against  the  innovations  of  Orlamund.  Ho 
did  not  name  Carlstadt,  but  every  one  could  see  that 
he  had  him  in  view. 

Carlstadt,  whether  by  chance  or  design,  was  at  Jena, 
and  among  the  number  of  Luther's  hearers.  He  hesi- 
tated not  to  apply  for  an  explanation  of  the  discourse. 
Luther  was  at  dinner  with  the  prior  of  Wittemberg, 
the  burgomaster,  the  clerk,  and  pastor  of  Jena,  and 
several  officers  in  the  service  of  the  emperor  and  the 
margrave,  when  a  letter  from  Carlstadt  was  put  into 
his  hands,  asking  an  interview.  He  handed  it  to  those 
next  him,  and  replied  to  the  bearer :  '•  If  Doctor 
Carlstadt  chooses  to  come  to  me,  well;  if  he  does  not 
choose  to  do  so,  I  will  dispense  with  it."  Carlstadt 
arrived.  His  arrival  produced  a  strong  sensation  in 
the  i)arty.  The  greater  part,  eager  to  see  the  two  lions 
at  close  quarters,  ceased  dining  and  stared,  while  the 
more  timid  grew  pale  with  fear. 

Carlstadt,  on  the  invitation  of  Luther,  sat  down 
opposite  to  him,  and  then  said:  "Doctor,  in  yoiu- 
sermon  to-day  you  put  me  in  the  same  class  with  those 
who  preach  rebellion  and  assassination.  I  say  that 
charge  is  false." 

Luther. — "  I  did  not  name  you ;  but  since  you  have 
felt  hit,  good  and  well." 

After  a  moment  of  silence,  Carlstadt  resumed: — 

"I  engage  to  prove  that  on  the  doctrine  of  the  sacra- 
ment you  have  contradicted  yourself,  and  that  no  man 
since  the  days  of  the  apostles  has  taught  it  so  purely 
as  I  have  done." 

Luther. — "  Write — debate !" 

Carlstadt. — "I  challenge  you  to  a  public  discussion 
at  Wittemberg  or  Erfurt,  if  you  procure  me  a  safe- 
conduct." 

Luther. — "  Fear  nothing,  doctor." 

Carlstadt. — "  You  bind  me  hand  and  foot,  and  when 
you  have  put  it  out  of  my  power  to  defend  myself,  you 
strike  me." 

There  was  a  pause.     Luther  resumed: — ■ 

"  AVrite  against  me;  but  publicly,  not  in  secret." 

Carlstadt. — "If  I  thought  you  were  speaking  in 
earnest  I  would  do  so." 

Luther. — "Do  it  and  I'll  give  you  a  florin." 

Carlstadt. — "  Give  it ;  I  accept  it." 

At  these  words  Luther  put  his  hand  in  his  pocket 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


and  drew  out  a  gold  florin,  and  giving  it  to  Carlstadt, 
said :  '•  Take  it,  and  attack  me  valiantly." 

Carlstadt,  holding  the  gold  florin  in  his  hand,  turned 
to  the  party,  and  said:  "Dear  friends,  this  is  my 
arrlials, — a  pledge  that  I  am  authorized  to  write  against 
Doctor  Luther;  I  take  you  all  to  witness." 

Then  bending  the  florin,  that  it  might  be  known 
again,  he  put  it  into  his  piu'se,  and  shook  hands  with 
Luther.  Luther  drank  his  health,  and  Carlstadt 
returned  it.  "  The  more  vigorous  your  attacks,  the 
more  agreeable  they  will  be,"  resumed  Luther. 

"If  I  fail,"  replied  Carlstadt,  "it  will  be  my  own 
fault." 


They  again  shook  hands,  and  Carlstadt  retm-ned  home. 

Thus,  says  a  biographer,  in  the  same  way  as  from  a 
single  spark  often  arises  the  conflagration  of  a  whole 
forest,  from  a  small  beginning  arose  a  great  division 
in  the  Church. 

Luther  proceeded  to  Orlamimd,  and  arrived  there 
ill  prepared  by  the  scene  at  Jena.  He  assembled  the 
council  and  the  church,  and  said:  "Neither  the  elector 
nor  the  university  is  willing  to  recognise  Carlstadt  as 
your  pastor." — "If  Carlstadt  is  not  our  pastor,"  replied 
the  treasurer  of  the  town-council,  "  vSt.  Paul  is  a  false 
teacher,  and  your  books  are  lies,  for  we  have  chosen 
him." 


As  lie  s;iid  those  words,  Carlstadt  entered.  Some 
of  the  persons  near  Luther  motioned  to  him  to  be 
seated ;  but  Carlstadt,  going  straight  up  to  Luther,  said 
to  him  :  "  Dear  doctor,  allow  me  to  give  you  welcome !" 

Luther. — "You  are  my  enemy.  You  have  my  gold 
florin  as  a  pledge." 

Carlstadt. — "  I  mean  to  continue  your  enemy  so  long 
as  you  continue  the  enemy  of  God  and  of  His  truth." 

Luther. — "  Begone  :  I  cannot  allow  you  to  appear 
here." 

Carlstadt. — "  This  is  a  public  meeting.  If  your 
cause  is  just,  why  fear  me?" 

Luther  {to  his  servant). — "Make  ready!  make  ready! 
I  have  nothing  to  do  with  Carlstadt ;  and  since  he  will 
not  leave,  I  start." 

At  the  same  time  Luther  rose  up.  Then  Carlstadt 
withdrew. 


After  a  momentary  pause,  Luther  resumed :  "  Prove 
by  Scripture  that  it  is  right  to  destroy  images." 

A  Councillor. — "  Doctor,  you  will  gi-ant  that  Mosea 
knew  the  commandment  of  God,"  (opening  a  Bible.) 
"  "Very  well ;  here  are  his  words :  Thou  shalt  not  make 
unto  thee  any  graven  image,  or  any  likeness." 

Luther. — "  This  passage  refers  only  to  the  images  of 
idols.  If  I  hang  up  a  crucifix  in  my  chamber  without 
worshipping  it,  what  harm  can  it  do  me?" 

A  Shoemaker. — "  I  have  often  taken  off  my  hat  to 
an  image  which  happened  to  be  in  my  room  or  on  the 
road ;  this  is  an  act  of  idolatry,  which  robs  God  of  the 
glory  due  to  Him  alone," 

Luther. — "It  will  be  necessary,  then,  because  of 
abuse,  to  destroy  females,  and  throw  our  wine  into  the 
street." 

Another   Member   of  the    Church. — "No;    they   are 


CAllLSTADT  BANISHED. 


309 


creatures  of  God,  wliich  we  arc  not  oiijoincd  to 
destroy." 

After  the  confereuce  had  lasted  some  time  longer, 
Luther  and  his  people  got  up  into  their  carriage, 
astonished  at  what  had  passed,  and  without  having 
succeeded  in  convincing  the  inhabitants,  who  also 
claimed  for  themselves  tlie  right  of  freely  interpreting 
and  expounding  the  Scriptures.  There  was  great 
agitation  in  Orlamund ;  the  people  insulted  Luther, 
some  even  cried  to  him  :  "Begone,  in  the  devil's  name. 
May  you  break  your  neck  before  you  get  out  of  our 
town."  Never  yet  had  the  reformer  been  subjected 
to  such  humbling  treatment. 

He  repaired  to  Kale,  the  pastor  of  which  had  also 
embraced  the  doctrines  of  Carlstadt.  Here  he  resolved 
to  preach.  On  entering  the  pulpit  he  found  the  remains 
of  a  crucifix  in  it.  At  first  he  was  deeply  moved ;  but 
immediately  recovering  himself,  he  gathered  the  frag- 
ments into  a  corner  of  the  pulpit,  and  delivered  a 
sermon  which  contained  no  allusion  to  the  circum- 
stance. "I  wished,  by  contempt,"  said  he  afterwards, 
'•  to  have  my  revenge  of  the  devil." 

The  nearer  the  elector  approached  his  end,  the  more 
ho  seemed  to  fear  that  the  Reformation  was  going  too 
far.  He  gave  orders  that  Carlstadt  should  be  deprived 
of  his  situations,  and  that  he  should  quit  not  only  Orla- 
mund, but  the  electoral  states.  In  vain  did  the  church 
of  this  town  interpose  in  his  behalf;  in  vain  did  they 
ask  that  he  should  be  allowed  to  reside  among  them  as 
a  citizen,  and  give  an  occasional  sermon ;  in  vain  did 
they  represent  that  they  valued  the  truth  of  God  more 
than  the  whole  world,  and  even  than  a  thousand  worlds, 
had  God  created  a  thousand.  Frederick  was  inflexible ; 
he  even  went  the  length  of  refusing  the  money  neces- 
sary for  his  journey.  Luther  was  no  party  to  this 
harshness  of  the  prince ;  it  was  foreign  to  his  nature, 
and  this  he  shewed  at  an  after  period.  But  Carlstadt 
regarded  him  as  the  author  of  his  misfortune,  and  filled 
Germany  with  his  complaints  and  lamentations.  He 
wrote  a  farewell  letter  to  his  friends  of  Orlamund. 
This  letter,  for  the  reading  of  which  the  bells  wore 
rung,  and  which  was  heard  by  the  assembled  chm-eh 
amidst  tears,  was  signed,  "Andrew  Bodonstein,  banished 
by  Luther  without  having  been  either  heard  or  con- 
victed by  him." 

It  is  painful  to  see  this  bitter  quarrel  between  two 
who  had  formerly  been  friends,  and  were  both  excel- 
lent men.  A  feeling  of  sadness  was  experienced  by  all 
the  disciples  of  the  Reformation.  AVhat  was  to  become 
of  it,  now  that  its  most  illustrious  defenders  had  come 
to  blows  ?  Luther  saw  these  fears,  and  tried  to  calm 
them.  "  Let  us  fight,"  said  he,  "as  fighting  for  another. 
The  cause  is  God's,  the  management  God's,  the  glory 
God's.  He  will  fight  and  conquer  without  us.  Let 
that  which  must  fall,  fall.  Let  that  which  is  to  stand, 
stand.  It  is  not  our  own  cause  that  is  in  question,  nor 
is  it  our  own  glory  that  we  seek." 

Carlstadt  retired  to  Strasburg,  where  he  published 
several  productions.  "  He  was  thoroughly  acquainted," 
says  Dr.  Scheur,  "  with  Latin,  Greek,  and  Hebrew." 
Luther  acknowledged  the  superiority  of  his  erudition.. 
Of  an  elevated  spirit,  he  sacrificed  his  roput^ation,  his 
rank,  his  country,  his  bread  even,  to  his  convictions. 
At  a  later  period  he  retired  to  Switzerland.     It  was 


there  he  ought  to  have  broached  his  doctrines ;  his 
independence  required  the  free  atmosphere  in  which 
an  CEcolampadius  and  a  Zwingle  breathed.  His  doc- 
trine soon  attracted  almost  as  much  attention  as  Luther's 
theses  had  obtained.  Switzerland  seemed  to  be  gained, 
and  with  it  Bucer  and  Capito. 

Luther's  indignation  being  now  at  its  height,  he  pub- 
lished one  of  the  most  powerful,  but  also  one  of  the 
most  violent,  of  his  controversial  writings, — viz.,  his 
book  "Against  the  Heavenly  Prophets." 

Tiius  the  Reformation,  attacked  by  the  pope,  attacked 
by  the  emperor,  attacked  by  the  princes,  began  also  to 
tear  itself  to  pieces.  It  appeared  on  the  point  of  sink- 
ing under  so  many  disasters,  and  certainly  must  have 
sunk  if  it  had  only  been  a  work  of  man.  But  when 
on  the  point  of  sinking,  it  arose  with  new  energy. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

Progress— Resistance  to  the  Leaguers— Meeting  between  Philip  of  Ilesso 
and  Melanethon — The  Landgrave  gained  over  to  tlie  Gospel  —  Tlic 
Palatinate,  Luneburg,  Holstein— Tlie  Grand  Master  .at  Wittemberg. 

The  Catholic  League  of  Ratisbon,  and  the  persecutions 
which  followed  it,  produced  a  powerful  reaction  in 
the  population  of  Germany.  The  Germans  were  not 
disposed  to  allow  themselves  to  be  deprived  of  that 
Word  of  God  which  had  at  length  been  restored  to 
them.  To  the  orders  of  Charles  V.,  to  the  bulls  of 
the  pope,  to  the  menaces  and  scaffolds  of  Ferdinand, 
and  the  other  Catholic  princes,  theii"  reply  was  :  "  We 
shall  keep  it." 

Scarcely  had  the  leaguei-s  left  Ratisbon,  when  the 
deputies  of  the  towns,  whose  bishops  had  taken  part  in 
this  alliance,  feeling  surprised  and  indignant,  met  at 
Spires,  and  resolved  that  their  preachers  should,  in 
spite  of  the  bishops,  preach  the  Gospel — and  the 
Gospel  alone — conformably  to  the  doctrine  of  the 
prophets  and  apostles.  They  next  proposed  to  present 
a  firm  and  unanimous  remonstrance  to  the  national 
assembly. 

It  is  true,  the  imperial  letter,  dated  from  Burgos, 
aiTived,  and  disturbed  their  thoughts.  Nevertheless, 
towards  the  end  of  the  year,  the  deputies  of  these 
towns,  and  several  of  the  nobles,  met  at  Ulm,  and 
took  an  oath  of  mutual  defence,  in  the  event  of  attack. 
Thus,  to  the  camp  formed  by  Austria,  Bavaria,  and 
the  bishops,  the  free  towns  immediately  opposed 
another,  which  raised  the  standard  of  the  Gospel  and 
national  freedom. 

While  the  free  towns  thus  took  the  advanced  posts 
of  the  Reformation,  several  princes  were  gained  to  the 
cause.  Early  in  June,  1524,  Melanethon  was  return- 
ing on  horseback  from  a  visit  to  his  mother,  accom- 
panied by  Camerarius  and  some  other  friends,  when, 
near  Frankfort,  he  fell  in  with  a  brilliant  train.  It 
was  Philip  of  Hesse,  who,  three  years  before,  had 
visited  Luther  at  Worms,  and  who  was  now  on  his 
way  to  the  games  of  Heidelberg,  which  were  to  be 
attended  by  all  the  princes  of  Germany. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


Thus  Providence  brou'zht  Philip  successively  iuto 
contact  -with  the  two  reiormers.  It  was  known  that 
the  distinguished  doctor  had  gone  on  a  visit  to  his 
native  district,  and  one  of  the  landgrave's  knights  said 
to  him:  "I  believe  it  is  Melancthou."  The  young 
prince  immediately  put  spurs  to  his  horse,  and  coming 
iTp  to  the  doctor,  said  to  him:  "Are  you  Philip?" — 
"I  am,"  replied  the  scholar,  somewhat  intimidated, 
and  preparing  respectfidly  to  dismount.  "Stay!" 
said  the  prince ;  "  turn  round  and  come  and  spend  the 
night  with  me ;  there  are  some  subjects  on  which  I 
wish  to  have  a  conversation  with  j'ou ;  fear  nothing." 
'•What  could  I  fear  from  such  a  prince  as  you?" 
replied  the  doctor. — "Ah!  ah!"  said  the  landgrave 
laughing,  "were  I  to  take  you  away  and  give  you  up 
to  Cam])eggio,  he  would  not  be  sorry,  I  believe."  The 
two  Philips  rode  alongside  of  each  other.  The  prince 
put  questions,  and  Melancthou  answered.  The  land- 
grave was  delighted  with  the  clear  and  striking  views 
presented  to  him.  Melancthou  at  last  begging  he 
might  be  allowed  to  continue  his  journey,  Philip  of 
Hesse  had  difliculty  in  parting  with  him.  "On  one 
condition,"  said  he,  "  and  it  is,  that,  on  your  return, 
yon  will  write  carefully  on  the  subjects  which  we 
have  been  discussing,  and  send  me  the  production." 
Melancthou  promised.  "Go,  then,"  said  Philip,  "and 
pass  freely  through  my  states." 

Meliuicthon  drew  np,  with  his  usual  talent,  "An 
Abridgment  of  the  Revived  Doctrine  of  Christianity." 
This  concise  and  powerful  production  made  a  decisive 
impression  on  the  landgrave,  who.  shortly  after  his 
return  from  the  Heidelberg  games,  without  actually 
joining  the  free  towns,  issued  an  ordinance,  in  which 
— opposing  the  league  of  Ratisbon — he  commanded 
that  the  Gospel  should  be  preached  in  all  its  purity. 
He  himself  embraced  it  with  the  energy  of  his  charac- 
ter. "  Sooner,"  exclaimed  he,  "  abandon  my  body  and 
my  life,  my  states  and  my  subjects,  than  the  Word  of 
God."  A  monk,  the  friar  minor  Ferber,  perceiving 
the  prince's  leaning  to  the  Reformation,  wrote  him  a 
letter,  reproaching  him  with  his  conduct,  and  conjuring 
him  to  remain  faithful  to  Rome.  "I  resolve,"  replied 
Philip,  "  to  remain  faithful  to  the  ancient  doctrine,  but 
such  as  is  contained  in  Scripture."  Then  he  proved, 
with  great  force,  that  man  is  justified  only  by  faith. 
The  monk,  astonished,  held  his  peace.  The  landgrave 
was  called  "  Melaucthou's  scholar." 

Other  princes  took  a  similar  direction.  The  elector- 
palatine  refused  to  lend  himself  to  any  persecution. 
The  Duke  of  Luneburg,  nephew  to  the  Elector  of 
Saxony,  began  to  reform  his  states ;  and  the  King  of 
Denmark  ordered,  that  in  Schleswig  and  Holstein  every 
man  should  be  free  to  worship  God  according  to  his 
conscience. 

The  Reformation  made  a  still  more  important  con- 
quest :  a  prince,  the  important  effects  of  whose  con- 
version began  at  this  time  to  turn  away  from  Rome. 
One  day,  towards  the  end  of  June,  shortly  after 
Melancthon's  return  to  AVitteraberg,  Luther's  chamber 
was  entered  by  the  grand-master  of  the  Teutonic 
order,  Albert,  margrave  of  Brandenburg.  The  chief 
of  the  chevalier  monks  of  Germany,  who  was  then  in 
possession  of  Prussia,  had  gone  to  the  Diet  of  Nurem- 
lierg  to  invoke  the  aid  of  the  empire  against  Poland. 


He  returned  with  a  contrite  heart.  On  the  one  hand, 
the  sermons  of  Osiander  and  the  reading  of  the  Gospel 
had  convinced  him  that  his  condition  of  monk  was 
contrary  to  the  Word  of  God  ;  on  the  other,  the  break- 
ing up  of  the  national  government  had  taken  away 
all  hope  of  the  assistance  which  he  had  gone  to  claim. 
What,  then,  will  he  do?  .  .  .  The  Saxon  coun- 
cillor Plauitz,  with  whom  he  quitted  Nuremberg,  asked 
him  to  visit  the  reformer.  "  What  think  you  of  the 
rule  of  my  order?"  asked  the  disturbed  and  agitated 
prince  at  Luther.  Luther  hesitated  not ;  he  saw  that 
a  conduct  conformable  to  the  Gospel  could  alone  save 
Prussia  also.  "  Implore,"  said  he  to  the  grand-master, 
— "implore  the  help  of  God;  reject  the  absurd  and 
incongruous  rule  of  your  order ;  put  an  end  to  this 
abominable  and  truly  hermaphrodite  supremacy,  which 
is  neither  religious  nor  secular.  Shun  false,  and  seek 
true  chastity, — marry,  and  in  place  of  this  nameless 
monster  found  a  lawful  empire."  These  words  pointed 
out  distinctly  to  the  soul  of  the  grand-master  a  situation 
of  which  he  had  till  then  only  had  an  imperfect 
glimpse.  A  smile  lighted  up  his  features,  but  he  had 
too  much  prudence  to  declare  himself ;  he  held  his 
peace.  Melancthou,  who  was  present,  spoke  in  similar 
terms  to  Luther,  and  the  prince  departed  for  his  states, 
leaving  the  reformers  in  the  belief  that  the  seed  which 
they  had  sown  in  his  heart  would  one  day  bear  fruit. 

Thus  Charles  V.  aud  the  pope  had  opposed  the 
national  assembly  of  Spires,  from  a  fear  that  tiie  Word 
of  God  might  gain  all  who  attended  it ;  but  the  Word 
of  God  could  not  be  bound.  It  was  prohibited  to  be 
preached  in  one  of  the  halls  of  a  town  in  the  Low 
Palatinate.  Well!  it  had  its  revenge  by  diffusing  itself 
throughout  all  the  provinces.  It  aroused  the  people, 
enlightened  princes,  and  throughout  the  empire  dis- 
played that  Divine  power  of  which  neither  bulls  nor 
ordinances  could  ever  deprive  it. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Iteformers— The  Church  of  All-Saints  —  Fall  of  tho  Mass  — Literature- 
Christian  Schools— Science  Offered  to  the  Laity— Arts— Moral  Keligiuu 
— Esthetical  Religion— Music— Poetry— Painting. 

While  the  people  and  their  riders  were  thus  pressing 
toward  the  light,  the  reformers  were  striving  to  produce 
a  general  revival,  to  penetrate  the  whole  mass  with 
the  principles  of  Christianity.  The  form  of  worship 
first  engaged  their  attention.  The  time  fixed  by  the 
reformer,  on  his  return  from  the  Wartburg,  had  arrived. 
"Now," said  he,  "that  men's  hearts  have  been  strength- 
ened by  Divine  grace,  the  scandals  which  polluted 
the  Lord's  kingdom  must  be  made  to  disappear,  and 
something  must  be  attempted  in  the  name  of  Jesus." 
He  demanded  that  the  communion  shoidd  be  dispensed 
in  both  kinds, — that  everything  should  be  retrenched 
from  the  Supper  which  tended  to  convert  it  into  a 
sacrifice, — that  Christian  assemblies  should  never  meet 
without  hearing  the  Word  preached, — that  the  faithful, 


LUTHER  ON  CHRISTIAN  EDUCATION. 


311 


or  nt  least  priests  and  students,  sliould  meet  every 
morning  at  four  or  five  o'clocli  to  read  the  Old,  and 
every  evening,  at  five  or  six,  to  read  the  New  Testa- 
ment,— that  ou  Sunday  the  whole  Church  should 
assemble,  morning  and  afternoon,  and  that  the  leading 
object  ill  worship  should  bo  the  preaching  of  the 
"Word. 

In  particular,  the  church  of  All  Saints,  at  Wittein- 
berg,  aroused  his  indignation.  There  9,901  masses 
were  annually  celebrated,  and  35,570  pounds  of  wax 
burnt.  So  says  Seckendorf .  Luther  called  it  a  "  sacri- 
legious Tophet."  "There  are,"  said  he,  '-only  three 
or  four  lazy  bellies  who  still  worship  this  shameful 
mammon;  and  did  I  not  restrain  the  people,  this  house 
of  all  saints,  or  rather  all  devils,  would  long  ago  have 
made  a  noise  in  the  world,  the  like  of  which  was  never 
heard." 

Tiie  struggle  commenced  aronnd  this  church.  It 
was  like  one  of  those  ancient  sanctuaries  of  paganism 
in  Egypt,  Gaul,  and  Germany,  which  behoved  to  fall, 
in  order  that  Christianity  might  be  established. 

Luther,  desiring  that  the  mass  should  be  abolished 
in  this  cathedral,  on  the  1st  March,  1523,  addressed  a 
first  petition  on  the  subject  to  the  chapter;  and  on  the 
11th  July,  addressed  a  second.  The  canons  having 
objected  the  orders  of  the  elector :  "  What  have  we  to 
do  here,"  replied  Luther,  "with  orders  from  the  prince? 
He  is  a  secular  prince.  His  business  is  with  the  sword, 
and  not  with  the  ministry  of  the  Gospel."  Luther 
here  clearly  draws  the  distinction  between  the  Church 
and  the  State.  "  There  is  only  one  sacrifice,"  says  he 
again,  "which  wipes  away  sins,  Christ,  who  once  offered 
himself;  and  we  have  faith  in  Him,  not  by  works  or  by 
sacrifices,  but  solely  by  faith  in  the  AVord  of  God." 

The  elector,  who  felt  his  end  drawing  near,  was 
repugnant  to  new  reforms.  But  new  urgency  was 
joined  to  that  of  Luther.  Jonas,  provost  of  the 
cathedral,  thus  addressed  the  elector :  "  It  is  time  to 
act.  A  manifestation  of  the  Gospel,  so  bright  as  that 
we  now  have,  usually  lasts  no  longer  than  a  ray  of  the 
sun.     Let  us,  therefore,  make  haste." 

This  letter  of  Jon.as  not  having  changed  the  elector's 
views,  Luther  lost  patience.  He  thought  the  moment 
to  give  the  fatal  blow  had  arrived,  and  addressed  a 
threatening  letter  to  the  chapter :  "  I  beg  you  amicably, 
and  solicit  you  seriously,  to  put  an  end  to  all  this  sec- 
tarian worship.  If  you  refuse,  you  shall,  by  God's 
help,  receive  the  recompense  which  you  deserve.  I 
say  this  for  your  guidance ;  and  I  demand  a  distinct 
and  immediate  answer — yes,  or  no — before  next  Sun- 
day, that  I  may  know  how  to  act.  God  grant  you 
grace  to  follow  His  light. 

"Martin  Luther, 
"  Preacher  at  Wittemhenj, 
"Thursday,  8th  Dec.,  1524." 

At  the  same  time  the  rector,  two  burgomasters,  and 
ten  councillors,  repaired  to  the  dean,  and  solicited  him, 
in  the  name  of  the  university,  the  council,  and  the  com- 
munity of  Wittemberg,  "  to  abolish  the  great  and  hor- 
rible impiety  committed  against  the  Divine  Majesty  in 
tlic  mass." 

The  chapter  was  obliged  to  surrender.  It  declared 
that,  enlightened  by  the  holy  Word  of  God,  it  acknow- 
ledged the  abuses   to  which    its  attention    had    been 


directed,  and  published  a  new  order  of  service,  which 
began  to  be  observed  ou  Christmas,  1524. 

Thus  fell  the  mass  in  this  famous  sanctuary,  where 
it  had  so  long  withstood  the  reiterated  assaults  of  the 
reformers.  The  Elector  Frederick,  suffering  under 
an  attack  of  tlie  gout,  and  drawing  near  his  end,  Wivs 
not  able,  notwithstanding  all  his  efforts,  to  prevent  this 
great  act  of  reformation.  He  saw  the  Divine  will  in 
it,  and  yielded.  The  fall  of  the  Roman  observances  in 
the  chiu-ch  of  All  Saints  hastened  their  end  in  many 
of  the  churches  of  Christendom.  There  was  every- 
where the  same  resistance;  but  there  was  also  the 
same  victory.  In  vain  did  priests,  and  in  many  places 
even  princes,  attempt  to  throw  obstacles  in  the  way; 
they  failed. 

But  it  was  not  worship  merely  that  the  Keformation 
had  to  change.  She,  at  an  early  period,  placed  the 
school  by  the  side  of  the  Church ;  and  these  two  great 
institutions,  mighty  in  regenerating  nations,  were  equally 
revived  by  her.  The  Reformation,  when  she  first 
appeared  in  the  world,  was  intimately  allied  with 
literature ;  and  this  alliance  she  forgot  not  in  the  day 
of  her  triumph. 

Christianity  is  not  a  mere  development  of  Judaism. 
It  does  propose,  as  the  papacy  would  fain  do,  to  con- 
fine men  again  in  the  swaddling  bands  of  external 
ordinances  and  human  doctrines.  Christianity  is  a 
new  creation ;  it  seizes  man  within,  and  transforms  him 
in  his  inmost  heart ;  so  that  he  no  longer  has  any  need 
of  rules  from  other  men.  Through  the  help  of  God, 
he  can  of  himself,  and  by  himself,  discern  what  is  true, 
and  do  what  is  good. 

To  conduct  human  nature  to  this  state  of  indepen- 
dence which  Christ  has  purchased  for  it,  and  deliver  it 
from  the  nonage  in  which  Rome  had  so  long  kept  it, 
the  Reformation  behoved  to  develop  the  whole  man, 
renewing  his  heart  and  his  will  by  the  AVord  of  God, 
and  enlightening  his  understanding  by  the  study  of 
sacred  and  profane  literature. 

Luther  understood  this.  He  felt  that,  in  order  to 
secure  the  Reformation,  it  was  necessary  to  work  upon 
youth,  to  improve  schools,  and  propagate  in  Christen- 
dom the  knowledge  necessary  to  a  profound  study  of 
the  Holy  Scriptures.  Accordingly,  this  was  one  of  the 
objects  of  his  life.  He  felt  this,  particularly  at  the 
period  which  we  have  now  reached,  and  applied  to 
the  councillors  of  all  the  towns  of  Germany  for  the 
foundation  of  Christian  schools.  "Dear  sirs,"  said 
he  to  them,  "  so  much  money  is  annually  expended  on 
muskets,  roads,  and  embankments,  why  should  not  a 
little  be  spent  in  giving  poor  youth  one  or  two  school- 
masters ?  God  is  knocking  at  our  door ;  happy  are  we 
if  we  open  to  Him.  The  Divine  AVord  now  abounds. 
Oh!  dear  Germans,  buy,  buy,  while  the  market  is 
before  your  houses  I  The  Word  of  God  and  its  grace 
ai'e  like  a  wave  which  ebbs  and  goes  away.  It  was 
with  the  Jews,  but  it  has  passed ;  and  they  no  longer 
have  it.  Paul  brought  it  to  Greece,  but  it  passed 
away;  and  Greece  now  belongs  to  the  Turk.  It  came 
to  Rome  and  Latium  ;  but  thence  too  it  has  passed,  and 
Rome  now  has  the  pope.  Do  not  suppose  you  are  to 
have  this  AA''ord  for  ever.  The  contempt  shewn  for 
it  will  chase  it  away.  AVherefore,  let  him  who  would 
have  it  seize  it,  and  keep  it. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


"  Give  attention  to  children,"  continues  he,  still 
addressing  magistrates  ;  "  for  many  parents  are  like 
ostriches  ;  they  grow  callous  towards  their  young,  and, 
contented  with  having  laid  the  egg,  give  themselves 
no  further  trouble.  The  prosperity  of  a  town  consists, 
not  merely  in  collecting  great  treasures,  buOding  strong 
walls,  and  erecting  fine  houses,  and  possessing  brilliant 
armies.  If  fools  come  and  pounce  upon  it,  its  mis- 
fortunes will  then  only  be  the  greater.  The  true  good 
of  a  town,  its  safety  and  strength,  is  to  have  a  great 
number  of  learned,  serious,  honest,  and  well-educated 
citizens.  And  whose  fault  is  it,  that  at  present  the 
number  of  these  is  so  small,  if  it  is  not  yours,  O 
magistrates  !  who  have  allowed  youth  to  gi-ow  up  like 
grass  in  the  forest  ?  " 

Luther  particularly  insists  on  the  study  of  literature 
and  languages.  "What  use  is  there,  it  is  asked,  in 
learning  Greek  and  Hebrew  ?  We  can  read  the 
Bible  in  German." — "  Without  languages,"  replies  he, 
"we  shoidd  not  have  received  the  Gospel.  .  .  . 
Languages  are  the  sheath  which  contains  the  sword  of 
the  Spirit;  they  are  the  casket  which  contains  the 
jewels ;  the  vessel  which  contains  the  liquor ;  and  as 
the  Gospel  expresses  it,  they  are  the  baskets  in  which 
are  preserved  the  bread  and  fishes  to  feed  the  people. 
If  we  abandon  languages,  the  result  will  be,  that  we 
shall  not  only  lose  the  Gospel,  but  also  become  unable 
to  speak  and  write  in  Latin  or  in  German.  So  soon 
as  the  cultivation  of  them  ceases,  the  Gospel  is  in 
decay,  and  ready  to  fall  under  the  power  of  the  pope. 
But  now  that  languages  are  again  in  honour,  they 
diffuse  so  much  light,  that  the  whole  world  is  aston- 
ished ;  and  every  one  must  confess  that  our  Gospel  is 
almost  as  pure  as  that  of  the  apostles  themselves.  The 
holy  Fathers,  in  ancient  times,  were  often  mistaken, 
because  they  did  not  know  languages ;  in  our  days, 
some,  as  the  Vaudois  of  Piedmont,  do  not  think 
languages  usefid;  but  though  their  doctrine  is  good, 
they  often  want  the  true  meaning  of  the  sacred  text ; 
they  find  themselves  unarmed  against  error,  and  I 
much  fear  their  faith  will  not  remain  piu-e.  Had  not 
languages  made  me  sure  of  the  meaning  of  the  Word, 
I  might  have  been  a  pious  monk,  and  have  peaceably 
preached  the  truth  in  the  obscurity  of  a  cloister ;  but 
I  shoidd  have  allowed  the  pope,  sophists,  and  their 
antichristian  empire  to  stand." 

Luther  does  not  confine  himself  to  the  education  of 
ecclesiastics ;  he  is  desirous  that  knowledge  should  no 
longer  be  monopolized  by  the  Church  ;  he  proposes  to 
give  a  share  of  it  to  the  laity,  who,  till  now,  had  been 
disinherited.  He  proposes  that  libraries  should  be 
established,  and  that  they  should  not  be  confined  to  a 
collection  of  the  editions  of  the  schoolmen  and  fathers 
of  the  Church,  but  should  also  contain  the  works  of 
orators  and  poets,  even  though  they  should  be  pagans, 
as  well  as  works  on  the  fine  arts,  law,  medicine,  and 
history.  "These  writings  serve,"  says  he,  "  to  explain 
the  works  and  miracles  of  God." 

This  work  of  Luther  is  one  of  the  most  important 
which  the  Reformation  has  produced.  It  takes  science 
out  of  the  hands  of  the  priests,  who  had  monopolized 
il,  like  those  of  Egypt  in  ancient  times,  and  restores  it 
to  all.  From  the  impulse  thus  given  by  the  Refor- 
mation have  proceeded  the  greatest  developments  of 


modern  times.  Those  lajTnen,  literary  and  learned, 
who  now  assail  the  Reformation,  forget  that  they 
themselves  are  its  work,  and  that  without  it  they 
should  still  be  placed,  like  ignorant  children,  under  the 
rod  of  the  clergy.  The  Reformation  discerned  the 
intimate  union  subsisting  between  all  the  sciences ;  she 
was  aware  that,  as  all  science  comes  from  God,  so  it 
leads  back  to  God.  Her  wish  was  that  all  should 
learn,  and  that  they  should  learn  all.  "  Those  who 
despise  profane  literature,"  said  Melancthon,  "have  no 
higher  respect  for  sacred  theology.  Their  contempt  is 
only  a  pretext  by  which  they  try  to  hide  their  sloth." 

The  Reformation  was  not  contented  with  giving  a 
strong  impulse  to  literature,  she  also  gave  a  new  im- 
pulse to  the  arts.  Protestantism  is  often  charged  with 
being  inimical  to  the  arts,  and  many  Protestants  readily 
admit  the  charge.  We  will  not  inquire  whether  or  not 
the  Reformation  ought  to  prevail ;  we  will  content 
ourselves  with  observing,  that  impartial  history  does 
not  confii-m  the  fact  on  which  this  accusation  rests. 
Let  Roman  Catholicism  plume  itself  on  being  more 
favourable  to  the  arts  than  Protestantism — all  very 
well.  Paganism  was  stiU  more  favourable  to  them ; 
and  Protestantism  places  her  fame  on  a  different 
ground.  There  are  religions  in  which  the  esthetical 
tendencies  of  man  occupy  a  more  important  place  than 
his  moral  nature.  Christian  sentiment  is  expressed, 
not  by  the  productions  of  the  fine  arts,  but  by  the 
actings  of  Christian  life.  Every  sect  that  abandons 
the  moral  tendency  of  Christianity,  thereby  loses  even 
its  right  to  the  Christian  name.  Rome  has  not  aban- 
doned this  essential  characteristic  ;  but  Protestantism 
it  in  much  greater  purity.     Its  glory  consists 


in  the  tliorough  investigation  of  whatever  belongs  to 
the  moral  being,  and  in  judging  of  religious  acts,  not 
from  their  external  beauty  and  the  manner  in  which 
they  strike  the  imagination,  but  according  to  their 
internal  worth,  and  the  relation  which  they  bear  to 
the  conscience ;  so  that,  if  the  papacy  is,  above  all,  as 
a  distinguished  writer  has  proved,  an  esthetical  reli- 
gion, Protestantism  is,  above  all,  a  moral  religion. 

Still,  although  the  Reformation  addressed  man 
primarily  as  a  moral  being,  it  addressed  the  whole 
man.  We  have  just  seen  how  it  spoke  to  his  under- 
standing, and  what  it  did  for  literature :  it  spoke  also 
to  his  sensibility,  his  imagination,  and  contributed  to 
the  development  of  the  arts.  The  Church  was  no 
longer  composed  merely  of  priests  and  monks ;  it  was 
the  assembly  of  the  faithful.  All  were  to  take  part  in 
worship ;  and  the  hymns  of  the  clergy  were  to  be 
succeeded  by  those  of  the  people.  Accordingly,  in 
translating  the  Psalms,  Luther's  object  was  to  adapt 
tliem  to  the  singing  of  the  church.  In  this  way  a 
taste  for  music  was  diffused  over  the  whole  country. 

"  After  theology,"  said  Luther,  "  it  is  to  music  I 
give  the  first  place  and  the  highest  honour.  A  school- 
master," he  again  said,  "  must  be  able  to  sing :  without 
it  I  will  not  even  look  at  him." 

One  day,  when  some  fine  pieces  were  sung  to  him, 
he  rapturously  exclaimed:  "If  our  Lord  God  has  con- 
ferred such  admirable  gifts  on  this  earth,  which  is  only 
an  obscure  recess,  what  will  it  be  in  the  eternal  life, 
iu  a  state  of  perfection!"  .  .  .  From  the  days  of 
Luther   the   people   simg;    the    Bible    inspired   their 


MUSIC,  POETRY,  AND  PAINTING. 


liymns;  and  the  impulse  given  at  the  period  of  the 
Reformation,  at  a  later  period  produced  those  magni- 
ficent oratorios  which  seem  to  be  the  complete  per- 
fection of  the  art. 

The  same  impulse  was  given  to  poetry.  It  was 
impossible,  in  celebrating  the  praises  of  God,  to  be 
confined  to  mere  translations  of  the  ancient  hymns. 
Luther's  own  soul,  and  that  of  several  of  his  contcm- 
jioraries,  raised  by  faith  to  the  sublimest  thoughts,  and 
excited  to  enthusiasm  by  the  battles  and  perils  which 
incessantly  threatened  the  rising  Church — inspired,  in 
short,  by  the  practical  genius  of  the  Old  and  the  faith 
of  the  New  Testament,  soon  gave  utterance  to  their 
feelings  in  religious  poems,  in  which  poetry  and  music 
iinited  and  blended  their  holiest  inspirations.  Thus 
the  sixteenth  century  beheld  the  revival  of  that  divine 
poetry  which,  from  the  very  first,  had  solaced  the 
sufferings  of  the  martyrs.  "\Ve  have  already  seen  how, 
in  1.523,  Luther  employed  it  in  celebrating  the  martyrs 
of  Brussels :  other  sons  of  the  Reformation  followed 
in  his  steps.  Hymns  wore  multiplied,  and,  spreading 
rapidly  among  the  people,  contributed  powerfully  to 
awaken  them  from  their  slumbers.  It  was  in  this  same 
year  that  Hans  Sach  sung  The  Nightingale  of  Wittem- 
berg.  The  doctrine  which,  for  four  centuries  had 
reigned  in  the  Church,  he  regards  as  the  moonlight, 
during  which  men  wandered  in  the  desert.  The  night- 
ingale now  announces  the  sun,  and,  singing  to  the  light 
of   day,  rises  above  the  clouds  of  the  morning. 

While  lyric  poetry  thus  arose  from  the  highest 
inspirations  of  the  Reformation,  satire  and  the  drama, 
under  the  pen  of  Hiitten,  Miirner,  and  Manuel, 
attacked  the  most  crying  abuses. 

It  is  to  the  Reformation  that  the  great  poets  of 
England,  Germany,  and  perhaps  France,  owe  their 
lofty  flight. 

Of  all  the  arts,  painting  is  the  one  on  which  the 
Reformation  had  the  least  influence.  Nevertheless  it 
was  renewed,  and  in  a  manner  sanctified,  by  the 
imiversal  movement  which  then  agitated  all  the  powers 
of  the  human  mind.  The  great  master  of  this  period, 
Lucas  Cranach,  fixed  his  residence  at  AVittemberg, 
where  he  lived  on  intimate  terms  with  Luther,  and 
became  the  painter  of  the  Reformation.  We  have  seen 
how  he  represented  the  contrasts  beween  Christ  and 
antichrist,  (the  pope,)  and  thus  gained  a  place  among 
the  most  powerful  instruments  of  the  revolution  which 
was  transforming  the  nations.  As  soon  as  he  had 
acquired  new  convictions,  he  consecrated  his  chaste 
pencil  to  drawings  in  harmony  with  Christian  belief, 
and  shed  on  groups  of  children,  blessed  by  the  Saviour, 
the  grace  with  which  he  had  previously  adorned 
legendary  saints,  male  and  female.  Albert  Durer  was 
also  won  by  the  preaching  of  the  AVord,  and  his  genius 
took  a  new  flight.  His  masterpieces  date  from  this 
period.  From  the  features  with  which,  from  that 
period,  he  painted  the  evangelists  and  apostles,  we 
see  that  the  Bible  was  restored  to  the  people,  and  that 
from  it  the  painter  drew  a  depth,  a  force,  a  life,  and 
grandeur,  which  he  never  could  have  found  in  himself. 

Still,  however,  it  must  be  acknowledged,  painting  is 
the  art  whose  religious  influence  is  most  liable  to  strong 
and  well-founded  objections.  Poetrj'  and  music  came 
from  heaven,  and  will  again  be  found  in  heaven ;  but 


painting  is  constantly  seen  united  to  gi-ave  immoralities 
or  fatal  errors.  After  studying  history,  or  seeing  Italy, 
we  are  made  aware  that  humanity  has  little  to  expect 
from  that  art.  But  whatever  may  be  thought  of  this 
exception,  which  we  have  thought  it  our  duty  to  make, 
our  general  remark  holds  true. 

Tlie  Reformation  of  Germany,  while  making  its  first 
address  to  the  moral  nature  of  man,  has  given  to  the 
arts  an  impulse  which  they  could  not  have  received 
from  Roman  Catholicism. 

Thus  there  was  a  universal  progress  in  literature  and 
the  arts,  in  spirituality  of  worship,  in  the  souls  of 
nations  and  their  rulers.  But  this  magnificent  har- 
mony, which  the  Gospel  everywhere  produced  in  the 
days  of  its  revival,  was  .ibout  to  be  disturbed.  The 
song  of  the  nightingale  of  Wittemberg  was  to  be  inter- 
rupted by  the  hissing  of  the  storm  and  the  roaring  of 
the  lions.  A  cloud  in  one  moment  spread  over  Germany, 
and  a  lovely  day  was  succeeded  by  a  dismal  night. 


CHAPTER  X. 

Political  Ferment — Luther  against  Revolution— Thomas  Munzer — Agitation 
—The  Black  Forest-The  Twelve  Articles— Luther's  Adnce-Helfenstcin 
— Advance  of  the  Peasants — Advance  of  the  Imperial  Army— Defeat  of 
the  Peasants— Craelty  of  the  Princes. 

A  POLITICAL  fermentation,  one  very  different  from  that 
which  the  Gospel  produces,  had  long  been  working  in 
the  empire.  Borne  down  by  civil  and  ecclesiastical 
oppression,  bound  in  several  countries  to  the  baronial 
lands,  and  sold  along  with  them,  the  people  threatened 
to  rise  in  fury,  and  burst  their  chains.  This  agitation 
had  been  mauLfestod  long  before  the  Reformation  by 
several  symptoms,  and  thenceforth  religion  had  been 
blended  with  political  elements.  It  was  impossible  in 
the  16th  centui-y  to  separate  these  two  principles,  so  in- 
timately associated  in  the  life  of  nations.  In  Holland, 
at  the  end  of  the  previous  century,  the  peasantry  had 
risen  up,  placing  on  their  colours,  as  a  kind  of  armorial 
bearings,  bread  and  cheese,  the  two  great  blessings  of 
these  poor  people.  "The  shoe  alliance"  had  shewn  itself 
in  the  neighourhood  of  Spires  in  1.503.  In  1513,  it 
had  been  renewed  at  Brisgau,  and  been  encouraged  by 
priests.  In  1514,  Wurtemberg  had  witnessed  "  the 
league  of  poor  Conrad,"  the  object  of  which  was  to 
maintain  by  revolt  "the  rights  of  God."  In  1515, 
Carinthia  and  Hungary  had  been  the  theatre  of  dread- 
ful commotions.  These  seditions  had  been  suppressed 
by  torrents  of  blood;  but  no  redress  had  been  given  to 
the  people.  A  political  reform  was  therefore  no  less 
necessary  than  a  religious  reform.  The  people  were 
entitled  to  it ;  but  it  must  be  confessed  they  were  not 
ripe  for  enjoying  it. 

Since  the  Reformation  had  commenced  these  popular 
agitations  had  been  renewed;  the  minds  of  men  had 
been  absorbed  by  other  thoughts.  Luther,  whose 
piercing  eye  discerned  the  condition  of  his  countrjTJien, 
had,  even  from  the  height  of  the  Wartburg,  addressed 
grave  exhortations,  for  the  purpose  of  keeping  down 
agitation. 


314 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


'•Revolt,"  he  had  said,  "does  uot  produce  the 
amelioration  which  is  desired,  and  God  condemns  it. 
What  is  revolt  but  taking  vengeance  into  our  own 
hands?  Tlie  devil  is  labouring  to  excite  those  who 
embrace  the  Gospel  to  revolt,  in  order  to  bring  it  into 
reproach;  but  those  who  have  perfectly  understood  my 
doctrine  do  uot  revolt." 

Everything  gave  reason  to  fear  that  the  popular 
indignation  could  not  be  much  longer  restrained.  The 
government  which  Frederick  of  Saxony  had  had  so  much 
dilRculty  in  forming,  and  which  possessed  the  con- 
fidence of  the  nation,  was  dissolved.  The  emperor, 
whose  energy  might  perhaps  have  supplied  the  waut  of 
this  national  administration,  was  absent;  the  princes, 
whose  union  had  always  constituted  the  strength  of 
Germany,  were  divided;  and  the  new  declaration  of 
Charles  V.  against  Luther,  in  taking  away  all  hope  of 
future  harmony,  deprived  the  reformer  of  a  portion  of 
the  moral  authority  by  which,  in  1522,  he  had  succeeded 
in  calming  the  storm.  The  principal  embankments 
which  had  hitherto  confined  the  torrent  were  broken 
down,  and  nothing  could  restrain  its  fury. 

The  religious  movement  did  not  produce  the  political 
agitation,  but  in  several  places  it  allowed  itself  to  be 
borne  along  by  its  tumultuous  waves.  Perhaps  even 
more  should  be  conceded;  it  is  perhaps  necessary  to 
admit  that  the  movement  given  to  the  people  by  the 
Reformation  gave  new  force  to  the  discontent  which 
was  prevailing  in  the  nation.  The  violence  of  Luther's 
writings,  the  intrepidity  of  his  actions  and  his  words, 
the  harsh  truths  which  he  told,  not  only  to  the  pope 
and  the  prelates,  but  also  to  princes  themselves,  nmst 
have  contributed  to  inflame  minds  already  in  a  state  of 
effervescence.  Accordingly  Erasmus  did  not  omit  to 
tell  him  :  "We  are  now  gathering  the  fruits  that  you 
have  sown."  Moreover,  the  gladsome  truths  of  the 
Gospel  now  at  length  brought  fully  to  light,  stiiTcd  all 
hearts,  and  filled  them  with  hope  and  expectation. 
But  many  unregenerate  souls  remained  unprepared  by 
Christian  repentance,  faith,  and  freedom.  They  wished 
indeed  to  reject  the  yoke  of  the  pope,  but  they  wished 
not  to  accept  the  yoke  of  Christ.  Accordingly,  when 
princes  devoted  to  Rome  sought  in  their  wrath  to  stifle 
the  Reformation,  though  true  Christians  knew  how  to 
bear  these  cruel  persecutions  with  patience,  the  mul- 
titude fumed  and  broke  out.  Seeing  their  wishes  pent 
in  in  one  direction,  they  procured  an  outlet  for  them 
in  another.  "Why,"  said  they,  "when  the  Church 
calls  all  men  to  a  noble  freedom,  why  should  slavery 
be  perpetuated  in  the  state?  Why,  when  the  Gospel 
speaks  only  of  meekness,  should  government  reign  only 
by  force?"  Unhappily,  at  the  time  when  religious 
reform  was  received  with  equal  joy  by  princes  and 
people,  political  reform,  on  the  contrary,  was  opposed 
by  the  most  powerful  portion  of  the  nation;  while  the 
former  had  the  Gospel  for  its  rule  and  support,  the 
latter  had  no  other  principles  than  violence  and 
despotism.  Accordingly',  while  the  one  kept  within 
the  limits  of  truth,  the  other,  like  an  impetuous  torrent, 
quickly  overleapt  these  and  also  those  of  justice.  But 
to  attempt  not  to  see  an  indirect  influence  of  the  Refor- 
mation in  the  disturbances  which  broke  out  in  the 
empire,  were,  in  my  opinion,  to  give  proof  of  partiality. 
By  means   of   religious   discussions   a   fire   had   been 


kindled  in  Germany,  and  it  was  impossible  that  some 
sparks  should  not  fly  olT  from  it,  of  a  nature  fitted  to 
inflame  the  passions  of  the  people. 

The  pretensions  of  some  fanatics  to  heavenly  inspira- 
tion augmented  the  evil.  While  the  Reformation  had 
constantly  appealed  from  the  pretended  authority  of 
the  Church  to  the  real  authority  of  Scripture,  these 
enthusiasts  rejected  not  only  the  authority  of  the 
Church,  but  also  that  of  Scripture.  Tliey  spoke  only 
of  an  internal  word,  of  a  revelation  of  God  within ; 
and  overlooking  the  natural  corruption  of  their  heart, 
they  gave  themselves  up  to  all  the  intoxication  of 
spiritual  pride,  and  imagined  themselves  to  be  saints. 

"To  them,"  says  Luther,  "the  Holy  Scriptures  were 
only  a  dead  letter,  and  all  began  to  cry  Spirit!  Spirit! 
But  assuredly  I  will  not  follow  where  their  spirit  leads 
them.  May  God  in  His  mercy  preserve  me  from  a 
Church  where  there  arc  none  but  saints.  I  wish  to 
remain  where  the  humble,  feeble,  and  sickly  are,  who 
know  and  feel  their  sin,  and  who,  without  ceasing, 
sigh  aud  cry  to  God  from  the  bottom  of  their  heart  to 
obtain  His  consolation  and  assistance."  These  words 
of  Luther  are  profound,  and  mark  the  change  Avhich 
was  taking  place  in  his  views  as  to  the  nature  of  the 
Church.  They  shew,  at  the  same  time,  how  much  the 
religious  principles  of  the  revolters  were  opposed  to 
the  Reformation. 

The  most  remarkable  of  these  enthusiasts  was 
Thomas  Miinzer.  He  was  not  without  talents,  had 
read  the  Bible,  was  zealous,  and  might  have  been  able 
to  do  good  if  he  had  known  how  to  collect  his  agitated 
thoughts,  and  find  peace  of  heart.  But  not  knowing 
himself,  and  being  void  of  true  humility,  he  was 
possessed  with  a  desire  to  reform  the  world,  and  like 
all  enthusiasts  forgot  that  reform  ought  to  begin  at  him- 
self. Mystical  treatises  which  he  had  read  in  his 
youth  had  given  a  false  direction  to  his  mind.  He 
first  appeared  at  Zwickau,  quitted  Wittemberg  after 
Luther's  return,  discontented  with  the  inferior  part  he 
was  playing  there,  and  became  pastor  of  the  small 
town  of  Alstadt  in  Thuringia.  Here  he  could  not 
long  remain  quiet.  He  accused  the  reformers  of 
founding,  by  their  attachment  to  the  letter,  a  new 
papism,  and  of  founding  churches  which  were  uot  pure 
and  holy. 

"  Luther,"  said  he,  "  has  delivered  consciences  from 
the  yoke  of  the  pope;  but  he  has  left  them  in  a  carnal 
freedom,  and  has  not  carried  them  forward  in  spii-it 
toward  God." 

He  thought  himself  called  by  God  to  remedy  this 
great  evil.  According  to  him,  the  revelations  of  the 
Spirit  were  the  means  by  which  his  reform  was  to  be 
accomplished.  "  He  who  possesses  this  Spirit,"  said 
he,  "has  true  faith,  even  though  he  should  never  in  his 
life  see  the  Holy  Scriptiu-es.  Pagaus  and  Turks  are 
more  proper  to  receive  it  than  many  Christians  who 
call  us  enthusiasts."  When  he  thus  spoke  he  had 
Luther  in  his  eye.  "  In  order  to  receive  this  Spirit," 
added  he,  "it  is  necessary  to  mortify  the  body,  wear 
shabby  clothes,  let  the  beard  grow,  have  a  gloomy  air, 
keep  silence,  frequent  retired  spots,  and  beg  God  to 
give  us  a  sign  of  His  favour.  Then  God  will  come 
and  speak,  with  us  as  He  once  did  with  Abraham, 
Isaac  aud  Jacob.     Did  He  not  do  so  it  would  not  be 


AGITATION— LUTHER'S  POSITION. 


worth  men's  while  to  pay  any  attention  to  Him.  I 
have  received  a  commission  from  God  to  assemble  His 
elect  in  a  holy  and  eternal  alliance." 

The  agitation  and  ferment  working  in  men's  minds, 
were  only  too  favourable  to  the  propagation  of  their 
cuthusiastic  ideas.  Man  loves  the  marvellous,  and 
everything  that  llatlors  his  pride.  Miinzer,  having 
drawn  a  portion  of  liis  flock  into  his  views,  abolished 
church  music  and  all  ceroniouics.  He  maintained, 
that  to  obey  princes,  "  devoid  of  reason,"  was  to  serve 
God  and  mammon.  Then,  marching  at  the  head  of 
his  parishioners  to  a  chapel  near  Alstadt,  and  which 
was  resorted  to  by  pilgrims  from  all  quarters,  ho  threw 
it  down.  Obliged,  after  this  exploit,  to  flee  the  conn- 
try,  he  wandered  np  and  down  in  Germany,  and  went 
as  far  as  Switzerland,  carrying  with  him,  and  com- 
municating to  all  who  would  listen  to  him,  the  plan  of 
a  universal  revolution.  He  everywhere  found  men's 
minds  prepared ;  he  threw  gunpowder  on  burning 
coals,  and  a  violent  explosion  was  the  immediate 
result. 

Luther,  who  had  rei)ellcd  the  warlike  enterprises 
of  Seckiugcn,  could  not  allow  himself  to  be  carried 
away  by  the  tumultuous  movements  of  the  peasantry. 
Happily,  for  social  order,  the  Gospel  had  him  in 
charge ;  for  what  might  have  happened  had  he  given 
his  vast  influence  to  their  camp  ?  .  .  .  He  always 
firmly  maintained  the  distinction  between  spiritual  and 
secuUir;  he  ceased  not  to  repeat,  that  what  Christ 
emancipated  by  His  Word  was  immortal  souls ;  and 
wliile  with  one  hand  he  attacked  the  anthority  of  the 
Church,  he  with  the  other  eqnally  maintained  the 
power  of  princes.  ''A  Christian,"  said  he,  "must 
endure  death  a  hundred  times  sooner  than  give  the 
least  countenance  to  the  revolt  of  the  peasants."  In  a 
letter  to  the  elector,  he  says:  "What  particularly 
delights  me  is,  that  these  enthusiasts  make  a  boast  to 
every  one  who  listens  to  them,  that  they  are  not  of  ns. 
They  say  it  is  the  Spirit  that  prompts  them.  But  I 
reply:  It  is  a  bad  spirit  that  beai-s  no  other  fruit  than 
the  pillaging  of  convents  and  churches, — the  greatest 
robbers  on  the  face  of  the  earth  can  do  as  much." 

At  the  same  time  Luther,  who  wished  others  to  have 
the  same  liberty  that  he  desired  for  himself,  dissuaded 
the  prince  from  rigorous  measures.  "Let  them  preach 
as  they  will,  and  against  whomsoever  they  see  it  good ; 
for  it  is  necessary  that  the  Word  of  God  itself  should 
lead  the  van  and  give  them  battle.  If  theirs  is  the 
true  Spirit,  he  will  not  fear  our  severities ;  if  ours  is 
the  true,  he  wiU  not  fear  their  violence.  Let  us  leave 
the  spirits  to  struggle  and  fight  with  each  other.  Some, 
perhaps,  will  be  seduced,  as  there  is  no  battle  without 
wounds ;  but  he  who  figlits  faithfully  will  be  crowned. 
Nevertheless,  if  they  will  take  the  sword,  your  high- 
ness must  forbid  it,  and  order  tlicm  to  quit  the 
country." 

The  revolt  broke  out  in  the  districts  of  the  Black 
Forest,  and  the  sources  of  the  Danube,  which  had  so 
often  been  agitated  by  popular  commotions.  On  the 
19th  July,  1524,  some  Thurgovian  peasants  rose  up 
against  the  Abbot  of  Reichenau,  who  refused  to  give 
them  an  evangelical  preacher.  Thousands  were  soon 
assembled  around  the  little  town  of  Tenger,  for  the 
rescue  of  an  ecclesiastic  who  was  kept  prisoner.     The 


revolt  spread  with  inconceivable  i-apidity  from  Swabia, 
as  far  as  the  countries  of  the  Rhine,  Franconia, 
Tluu-ingia,  and  Saxony.  All  these  countries  had  risen 
in  January,  1525. 

Towards  the  end  of  this  month  the  peasants  pub- 
lished a  declaration  in  twelve  articles,  in  which  they 
demanded  liberty  to  choose  their  own  pastors,  the 
abolition  of  small  tithes  and  villanage,  the  taxes  on 
heritage,  liberty  of  hunting,  fishing,  and  cutting  wood. 
Each  demand  was  supported  by  a  quotation  from 
Scripture.  "  If  we  are  mistaken,"  said  they,  in  conclu- 
sion, "  Luther  can  put  us  right  by  Scripture." 

The  opinions  of  the  Wittemberg  theologians  were 
asked.  Luther  and  Melancthon  gave  theirs — each 
separately.  They  are  very  characteristic.  Melanc- 
thon, who  regarded  every  kind  of  disturbance  as  a 
great  crime,  oversteps  his  usual  gentleness,  and  cannot 
give  strong  enough  expression  to  his  indignation.  The 
peasants  are  criminals,  against  whom  he  invokes  all 
laws,  human  and  Divine.  If  friendly  conference  proves 
ineffectual,  the  magistrates  must  pursue  them  as  rob- 
bers and  assassins.  "  However,"  he  adds,  (and  it  was, 
indeed,  necessary  that  some  one  trait  should  remind  us 
of  Melancthon,)  "  let  there  be  pity  shewn  to  orphans  in 
inflicting  the  pimishment  of  death." 

Luther's  opinion  of  the  revolt  was  the  same  as 
Melancthon's ;  but  he  had  a  heart  which  beat  at  the 
wretchedness  of  the  people.  He,  on  this  occasion, 
shewed  a  lofty  impartiality,  and  told  the  truth  frankly 
to  both  parties.  He  first  addressed  the  princes,  and 
more  especially  the  bishops  : 

"  Yon,"  said  he  to  them,  "  are  the  caase  of  the  revolt. 
Your  invectives  against  the  Gospel,  your  culpable 
oppression  of  the  little  ones  of  the  Church,  have 
brought  the  people  to  despair.  It  is  not  the  peasants, 
dear  lords,  who  rise  up  against  you  ;  it  is  God  himself 
who  wishes  to  oppose  yotn-  fury.  The  peasants  are  only 
the  instruments  whom  He  is  employing  to  humble  you. 
Think  not  to  escape  the  punishment  which  He  is  pre- 
paring for  you.  Even  should  you  succeed  in  destroy- 
ing all  these  peasants,  God  would  of  the  very  stones 
raise  up  new  ones  to  chastise  your  pride.  If  I  wished 
revenge,  I  would  laugh  in  my  sleeve,  look  on  while  the 
peasants  act,  or  even  stimulate  their  rage ;  but  God 
forbid !  .  .  .  Dear  lords,  for  the  love  of  God,  lay 
aside  your  indignation,  treat  the  poor  people  with  dis- 
cretion, as  you  would  persons  drunk  and  bewildered. 
Suppress  these  commotions  by  gentleness,  lest  a  con- 
flagration break  forth,  and  set  all  Germany  in  a  blaze. 
Among  their  twelve  articles  are  some  wliich  are  just 
and  equitable." 

This  exordium  was  fitted  to  gain  the  confidence  of 
the  peasants,  and  make  them  listen  patiently  to  the 
truths  which  he  had  to  tell  them.  He  represented  to 
them  that  a  great  part  of  their  demands  were,  doubt- 
less, well  founded ;  but  that  to  revolt  was  to  act  like 
pagans, — that  the  duty  of  Christians  was  patience, 
and  not  war, — and  that  if  they  continued  to  rise  in  the 
name  of  the  Gospel,  against  the  Gospel  itself,  he  would 
regard  them  as  more  dangerous  enemies  than  the  pope. 
"The  pope  and  the  emperor,"  continued  he,  "have 
united  against  me ;  but  the  more  the  pope  and  the 
emperor  have  stormed,  the  gixatcr  the  progress  which 
the  Gospel  has  made.     .     .     .     Why  so?     Because  I 


316 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


have  never  drawn  the  sword,  nor  called  for  vengeance, 
— because  I  have  not  had  recourse  either  to  tumult  or 
revolt.  I  have  committed  all  to  God,  and  awaited  His 
strong  hand.  It  is  neither  with  the  sword  nor  the 
musket  that  Christians  fight,  but  with  suffering  and 
the  cross.  Christ,  their  captain,  did  not  handle  the 
sword  ;  He  hung  upon  the  tree." 

But  in  vain  did  Luther  give  utterance  to  these  most 
Christian  expressions.  Tiie  people  were  too  much 
excited  by  the  fanatical  discourses  of  the  leaders  of 
the  revolt  to  lend  their  ear,  as  formerly,  to  the  reformer. 
"  He  is  playing  the  hypocrite,"  they  said  ;  "  he  is  flat- 
tering the  princes.  He  has  waged  war  with  the  pope, 
and  yet  he  would  have  us  to  submit  to  our  oppressors!" 

The  revolt,  instead  of  being  calmed,  became  more 
formidable.  At  Weinsberg,  Count  Louis  of  Holfen- 
stein,  and  seventy  men  under  his  command,  were  con- 
demned to  death.  A  party  of  peasants  held  their  pikes 
before  them  in  close  phalanx;  others  chased  and  drove 
back  the  count  and  his  soldiers  on  this  bristling  forest. 
The  wife  of  the  unhappy  Helfenstein,  a  natural  daugh- 
ter of  the  Emperor  Maximilian,  with  an  infant  of  two 
3'ears  old  in  her  arms,  fell  on  her  knees,  and,  with  loud 
cries,  implored  the  life  of  her  husband,  and  endea- 
voured to  stop  the  murderous  band ;  a  young  boy,  who 
had  been  in  the  service  of  the  count,  and  had  joined 
the  rebels,  capered  near  him,  playing  the  dead  march 
on  a  fife,  as  if  the  victims  had  been  dancing  to  it.  All 
perished :  the  child  was  wounded  in  its  mother's  arms, 
and  she  herself  was  thrown  on  a  dung-cart,  and  so 
taken  to  Heilbronn. 

On  hearing  of  these  cruelties,  a  cry  of  horror  was 
heard  among  the  friends  of  the  Reformation,  and  a 
fearful  struggle  took  place  in  Luther's  feeling  heart. 
On  the  one  hand  the  peasants,  deriding  his  representa- 
tions, pretended  to  revelations  from  heaven,  made  an 
impious  use  of  the  threatenings  of  the  Old  Testament, 
proclaimed  the  equality  of  ranks,  and  a  community  of 
goods,  defended  their  cause  with  fire  and  sword,  and 
had  recourse  to  barbarous  executions.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  enemies  of  the  Reformation  asked  the  reformer 
with  a  malignant  smile,  if  he  did  not  know  that  it  was 
easier  to  kindle  a  fire  than  to  extinguish  it  ?  Indig- 
nant at  their  excesses, — alarmed  at  the  thought  that 
they  might  arrest  the  progress  of  the  Gospel, — Luther 
no  longer  hesitated ;  all  delicacy  was  at  an  end ;  he 
broke  loose  against  the  rebels  with  all  the  force  of  his 
character,  and,  perhaps,  exceeded  the  just  limits  within 
which  he  ought  to  have  confined  himself. 

"The  peasants,"  said  he,  "commit  these  homble 
sins  towards  God  and  towards  men  ;  and,  by  so  doing, 
deserve  the  death  both  of  the  body  and  the  soul.  First, 
they  revolt  against  the  magistrates  to  whom  they  have 
sworn  fidelity.  Next,  they  rob  and  pillage  convents 
and  castles.  Last  of  all,  they  cloak  their  crimes  with 
the  mantle  of  the  Gospel.  If  you  do  not  put  a  mad 
dog  to  death  you  will  perish  yourself,  and  the  whole 
country  with  you.  He  who  is  slain  in  fighting  for 
magistrates  will  be  a  true  martyr,  if  he  has  fought  with 
a  good  conscience."  Luther  afterwards  gives  an  ener- 
getic picture  of  the  culpable  violence  of  the  peasantry 
in  compelling  simple  and  peaceful  men  to  enter  their 
alliance,  and  so  drag  them  into  the  same  condemnation. 
He  then  adds :    "  Wherefore,    dear   lords,   aid,   save. 


deliver,  have  pity  on  these  poor  people.  Strike,  stab, 
and  kill  who  can.  ...  If  you  die  you  cannot  have 
a  happier  end,  for  you  die  in  the  service  of  God,  and 
to  save  your  neighbour  from  hell." 

Neither  gentleness  nor  force  could  arrest  the  popular 
torrent.  It  was  no  longer  for  Divine  service  that  the 
church  bell  sounded ;  whenever  its  grave  and  solemn 
sounds  were  heard  rising  from  the  plains,  it  was  the 
tocsin,  and  all  rushed  to  arms.  The  people  of  the 
Black  Forest  had  mustered  around  John  Muller  of 
Bulgenbach.  Of  an  imposing  appearance,  clothed  in 
a  red  mantle,  and  with  a  red  bonnet  on  his  head,  this 
leader  paraded  proudly  from  village  to  village,  followed 
by  his  peasants.  Behind  him  on  a  car,  adorned  with 
ribbons  and  branches  of  trees,  waved  the  three-coloured 
flag, — black,  red,  and  white, — the  signal  of  revolt.  A 
herald,  decked  in  the  same  colom-s,  read  the  twelve 
articles,  and  called  on  the  people  to  join  the  movement. 
"Whoever  refused  was  excluded  from  the  community. 

This  procession,  which  was  at  first  jieaceable,  soon 
became  more  restless.  "  The  barons,"  they  exclaimed, 
"  must  be  forced  to  join  the  alliance."  And  to  bring 
them  to  this,  they  pillaged  their  granaries,  emptied  their 
wine  cellars,  fished  the  baronial  ponds,  laid  the  castles 
of  those  nobles  who  resisted  them  in  ruins,  and  burned 
convents.  Resistance  inflamed  the  rage  of  these  rude 
men.  Equality  no  longer  satisfied  them:  they  would 
have  blood;  and  vowed  that  every  man  who  wore  a 
spur  should  bite  the  dust. 

On  the  approach  of  the  peasants,  the  towns,  unable 
to  resist,  opened  their  gates  and  joined  the  rebels.  In 
every  place  they  entered  pictures  were  torn,  and 
crucifixes  broken  to  pieces.  Armed  females  ran  up 
and  down  the  streets  threatening  the  monks.  When 
defeated  in  one  place,  they  again  mustered  in  another, 
and  defied  the  most  formidable  armies  and  bodies  of 
troops.  A  committee  of  peasants  was  established  at 
Heilbronn.  The  counts  of  Lowenstein  being  captured, 
were  clothed  in  a  white  frock,  with  a  white  baton  in 
their  hands,  and  made  to  swear  to  the  twelve  articles. 
"Brother  George,  and  you,  brother  Albert,"said  a  tinker 
to  the  counts  of  Hohenloe,  who  had  repaired  to  the 
camp,  "swear  to  conduct  us  as  brethren;  for  you  also 
are  now  peasants:  you  are  no  longer  lords."  The 
equality  of  ranks,  that  dream  of  all  democrats,  was 
established  in  aristocratic  Germany. 

A  great  number  of  nobles,  some  from  fear  and 
others  from  ambition,  now  joined  the  revolters.  The 
famous  Gotz  of  Berlichingen,  when  he  saw  his  people 
refuse  to  obey  him,  wished  to  fly  to  the  Elector  of 
Saxony ;  but  his  wife,  who  was  in  childbed,  in  order 
to  keep  him  near  her,  concealed  the  elector's  reply. 
Gotz,  almost  hemmed  in,  was  obliged  to  place  himself 
at  the  head  of  the  rebellious  host.  On  the  7th  May 
the  peasants  entered  Wurtzburg,  and  were  received  by 
the  citizens  with  acclamation.  The  troops  of  the 
princes  and  knights  of  Swabia,  who  had  assembled  in 
this  town,  evacuated  it,  and  retired  in  haste  to  the 
citadel,  the  last  rampart  of  the  nobility. 

But  the  movement  had  already  extended  to  other 
parts  of  Germany.  Spires,  the  Palatinate,  Alsace, 
and  Hesse,  acknowledged  the  twelve  articles,  and  the 
peasants  threatened  Bavaria,  Westphalia,  the  Tyrol, 
Saxony,    and   Lorraine.      The   Margrave   of  Baden, 


DEFEAT  OF  THE  PEASANTS. 


317 


Hiving  refused  the  articles,  was  obliged  to  flee.     The 
joadiutor  of  Fuldah  acceded  to  thein  laughing.     The 


1 

coadj 

small  towns  said  that  they  had  no  lances  to  oppose 
the  revoltcrs.     Mentz,  Treves,  and  Frankfort,  obtained 
the  liberties  which  they  claimed. 

An  immense  revolution  is  taking  place  throughout 
the  empire.  The  ecclesiastical  and  secular  taxes  which 
oppress  the  peasants  must  be  suppressed;  the  property 
of  the  clergy  will  be  secularized  to  compensate  the 
princes,  and  provide  for  the  wants  of  the  empire; 
imposts  must  be  abolished,  with  the  exception  of  a 
tribute,  which  will  be  paid  every  ten  years;  the 
governing  power  recognised  by  the  New  Testament 
will  alone  subsist;  all  other  princes  will  cease  to  reign; 
sixty-four  free  tribunals  will  be  established,  and  men 
of  all  classes  will  have  seats  in  them ;  all  states  will 
return  to  their  primitive  destination;  ecclesiastics  will 
henceforth  only  be  pastors  of  churches;  princes  and 
knights  will  only  be  defenders  of  the  weak ;  imity  of 
weights  and  measures  will  be  introduced ;  and  only  one 
species  of  money  will  be  coined  throughout  the  empire. 
Meanwhile  the  princes  had  recovered  from  their 
first  stupor,  and  George  of  Truchsess,  geueral-in-chief 
of  the  imperial  army,  was  advancing  from  the  direction 
of  the  lake  of  Constance.  He  defeated  the  peasants, 
on  the  2d  of  May,  at  Beblingen,  marched  on  the  town 
of  AVeinsberg,  where  the  unfortunate  Ilelfenstein  had 
perished,  and  burnt  and  razed  it,  ordering  the  ruins 
to  be  kept  up  as  an  eternal  memorial  of  the  treachery 
of  the  inhabitants.  At  Furfekl  he  joined  the  elector- 
palatine  and  the  Elector  of  Treves,  and  they  all  ad- 
vanced in  a  body  towards  Franconia. 

Frauenburg,  the  citadel  of  Wurtzburg,  still  held  out 
for  the  princes,  and  the  grand  array  of  the  peasants 
continued  under  its  walls.  On  learning  the  approach 
of  Truchsess,  they  detei-mined  on  the  assault ;  and  on 
the  1  Jth  of  May,  at  nine  in  the  evening,  the  trumpets 
sounded,  the  three-coloured  flag  was  unfurled,  and  the 
peasants  rushed  to  the  attack,  uttering  fearful  cries. 
Sebastian  of  Kotenhan,  one  of  the  warmest  friends  of 
the  lieformation,  had  the  command  of  the  castle.  He 
had  placed  the  defence  on  a  formidable  footing,  and 
when  he  exhorted  the  soldiers  courageously  to  repel 
the  assault,  all  had  sworn  to  do  so,  by  raising  three  of 
their  fingers  to  heaven.  The  most  dreadful  combat 
then  took  place.  The  energy  and  despair  of  the 
peasants  was  answered  by  the  fortress  with  petards, 
showers  of  sulphur  and  boiling  pitch,  and  discharges 
of  artillery.  The  peasants,  thus  struck  by  invisible 
enemies,  were  for  a  moment  surprised;  but  their  fury 
soon  increased.  Night  advanced,  and  the  struggle  was 
prolonged.  The  fortress,  lighted  up  by  thousands  of 
battle-flres,  seemed,  amid  the  darkness,  like  a  proud 
giant  vomiting  flames,  and  single-hauled  amidst  the 
cannons'  roar  struggling  for  the  safety  of  the  empire 
against  the  ferocious  valour  of  savage  hordes.  Two 
hours  after  midnight  the  peasants,  having  failed  in  all 
their  efforts,  at  last  withdrew. 

They  proposed  to  negotiate  either  with  the  garrison 
or  with  Truchsess,  who  was  advancing  at  the  head  of 
his  army.  But  this  was  to  abandon  their  position. 
Violence  and  victory  alone  could  save  them.  After 
some  irresolution,  they  determined  to  set  out  and  meet 
the  imperial  army;  but  the  artillery  and  the  cavalry 


made  frightful  ravages  in  their  ranks.  At  Konigshofen, 
and  next  at  Engelstadt,  these  poor  creatures  were 
completely  defeated.  The  princes,  nobles,  and  bishops, 
abusing  their  victory,  displayed  unheard-of  cruelt)'. 
Tiie  prisoners  were  hung  up  along  the  roads.  The 
Bishop  of  Wurtzburg,  who  had  fled,  returned,  and 
going  over  his  whole  diocese  with  executioners,  watered 
it  at  once  with  the  blood  of  rebels,  and  the  blood  of 
the  peaceable  friends  of  the  Word  of  God.  Gotz  of 
Berlichingen  was  condemned  to  perpetual  imprisonment. 
The  Margrave  Casimir  of  Anspach,  put  out  the  eyes 
of  eighty-five  peasants,  who  had  sworn  that  they  would 
never  again  look  upon  this  prince;  and  cast  upon  the 
world  this  band  of  blind  men,  who  went  up  and  down 
holding  each  other  by  the  hand,  feeling  their  way, 
stumbling,  and  begging  their  bread.  The  wretched 
boy  who  had  played  the  death-march  of  Helfenstein, 
was  chained  to  a  stake,  a  fire  was  kindled  around  him, 
and  the  knights  stood  by  laughing  at  his  horrible  con- 
tortions. 

The  ritual  was  every^vhere  established  in  its  ancient 
form.  The  most  flourishing  and  populous  countries  of 
the  empire  now  presented  to  the  traveller  only  heaps 
of  carcases  and  smoking  ruins.  Fifty  thousand  men 
had  perished,  and  the  people  almost  everywhere  lost 
the  little  freedom  which  they  had  hitherto  enjoyed. 
Such  was,  in  the  south  of  Germany,  the  fearful  end  of 
this  revolt. 


CHAPTER  Xr. 

Milnzer  at  MuUiaasen— Arpeal  to  tlie  People— Match  of  the  Princes— KqJ 
of  the  Revolt — Influence  of  the  Reformers— Sutlerings— Change. 

But  the  evU  was  not  confined  to  the  south  and  west  of 
Germany.  MUnzer,  after  traversing  part  of  Switzer- 
land, Alsace,  and  Swabia,  had  again  directed  his  steps 
towards  Saxony.  Some  citizens  of  Mulhausen  invited 
him  into  their  town,  and  appointed  him  their  pastor. 
The  town  council  having  resisted,  Miinzer  deposed  it, 
and  named  another,  composed  of  his  friends,  with  him- 
self at  their  head.  Entertaining  the  utmost  contempt 
for  the  Christ,  "sweet  as  honey,"  whom  Luther 
preached,  he  determined  to  have  recourse  to  the  most 
energetic  measures.  "It  is  necessarj',"  said  he,  "to 
make  all  the  nations  of  Caanan  perish  by  the  sword,  as 
Joshua  did."  He  established  a  community  of  goods, 
and  pillaged  the  convents.  Luther,  11th  April,  1525, 
wrote  to  Amsdorff:  "Miinzer  is  king  and  emperor  of 
Mulhausen,  and  no  longer  merely  its  pastor."  The 
poor  no  longer  worked;  if  any  one  needed  cloth  or 
corn,  he  went  and  asked  it  of  some  rich  neighbour;  if 
refused,  the  poor  man  seized  it;  if  the  rich  man  resisted, 
he  was  hung.  ^Mulhausen  being  an  independent  town, 
Miinzer  was  able  to  exercise  his  power  without  opposi- 
tion almost  for  a  year.  The  revolt  of  the  south  of 
Germany  led  him  to  believe  that  it  was  time  to  extend 
his  new  kingdom.  He  caused  cannon  of  large  calibre 
to  be  cast  in  the  Franciscan  convent,  and  endeavoured 
to  make  a  rise  among  the  peasants  and  the  miners  of 
Mansfeld.     "How  long  will  you  still  sleep?"  said  he 


318 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


to  them,  in  a  fanatical  proclamation,  "rise  and  fight 
for  the  Lord !  It  is  time.  France,  Germany,  and  Italy 
are  on  the  march.  On!  on!  oul — Dran!  dran!  dran! 
Pay  no  regard  to  the  distress  of  the  ungodly.  They  will 
beseech  you  like  children,  but  remain  pitiless.  Dran  ! 
dran!  dran!  The  fire  burns.  Let  your  sword  be  always 
reeking  with  blood.  Dran!  dran!  dran!  Work  while 
it  is  day."  The  letter  was  signed,  "M0NZER,  servant 
of  God  against  the  ungodly." 

The  country  people,  eager  for  plunder,  flocked  to  his 
banners.  Everywhere,  iu  the  districts  of  Mansfeld, 
Stolborg,  Schwartzburg  in  Hesse,  the  Duchy  of  Bruns- 
wick, tlie  peasants  rose.  The  convents  of  Michelstein, 
Ilsenburg,  Walkenried,  Rossleben,  and  many  others 
near  the  Hartz,  or  in  the  plains  of  Thuringia,  were 
completely  pillaged.  At  Reinhardsbrunn,  which  Luther 
had  visited,  the  tombs  of  the  ancient  landgraves  were 
profaned,  and  the  library  destroyed. 

Terror  spread  far  and  wide.  At  Wittemberg  even 
some  uneasiness  was  felt.  Those  teachers,  who  had  not 
feared  either  the  emperor  or  the  pope,  saw  themselves 
obliged  to  tremble  before  a  madman.  They  were 
constantly  looking  out  for  the  news,  and  counted  every 
step  of  the  revolters.  "We  are  here,"  said Melancthon, 
"  iu  great  danger.  If  Mlinzer  succeeds  it  is  all  over 
with  us,  at  least  if  Clirist  do  not  save  us.  Mlinzer 
advances  with  a  cruelty  worse  than  that  of  the 
Scythians ;  and  it  is  impossible  to  mouth  the  atrocious 
menaces  wliich  he  throws  out." 

The  pious  elector  had  long  hesitated  as  to  the  course 
he  ought  to  pursue.  Miinzer  had  exhorted  him — him 
and  all  princes  to  be  converted,  "  because,"  as  he  said, 
"  their  hour  was  come ; "  and  he  had  signed  his 
letters,  "  Munzer,  armed  with  the  sword  of  Gideon." 
Frederick  had  been  desirous  to  bring  back  these  be- 
wildered men  by  gentleness.  When  dangerously  ill, 
he  had  written,  on  the  14th  April,  to  his  brother  John  : 
"Perhaps  these  poor  people  have  had  more  than  one 
ground  for  revolt.  Ah,  the  poor  are  oppressed  in 
many  ways  by  their  temporal  and  spiritual  lords!" 
And  when  he  was  reminded  of  the  humiliation,  revolu- 
tions, and  dangers  to  which  he  was  exposed  if  he  did 
not  powerfidly  suppress  the  rebellion,  he  replied : 
"  Hitherto  I  have  been  a  powerful  elector,  having 
horses  and  carriages  in  abundance;  if  it  is  now  the 
Lord's  will  to  take  them  from  me,  I  will  walk  on 
foot." 

The  first  of  the  princes  who  had  recourse  to  arms 
was  the  young  landgrave,  Philip  of  Hesse.  His 
knights  and  soldiers  vowed  to  live  and  die  with  him. 
After  pacifying  his  own  states,  he  directed  his  course 
towards  Saxony.  Duke  John,  the  elector's  brother, 
Duke  George  of  Saxony,  and  Duke  Henry  of  Bruns- 
wick, advanced  in  the  other  direction,  and  united  their 
forces  with  those  of  Hesse.  The  peasants,  frightened 
at  the  sight  of  this  army,  took  refuge  on  a  hill,  where, 
without  discipline,  without  armour,  and  the  greater 
part  without  courage,  they  made  a  rampart  of  their 
waggons.  Munzer  did  not  even  know  how  to  pre- 
pare powder  for  his  immense  cannon.  No  assistance 
appeared.  The  army  hemmed  in  the  rebels,  who  be- 
gan to  despond.  The  princes,  taking  pity  on  them, 
offered  conditions,  which  they  seemed  disposed  to 
accept;    when   Munzer   betook    himself   to   the  most 


powerful  instrument  which  enthusiasm  can  bring  into 
play.  "  To-day,"  said  he,  "  we  shall  see  the  arm  of 
the  Lord,  and  all  our  enemies  will  be  destroyed."  At 
that  moment  a  rainbow  appeared,  and  Munzer  took 
advantage  of  it.  "  Fear  not,"  said  he  to  the  burghers 
and  peasants,  "I  will  receive  all  the  bullets  which  will 
be  shot  at  you  in  my  sleeve."  At  the  same  time  he 
ordered  a  young  gentleman,  Maternus  of  Geholfen,  an 
envoy  of  the  princes,  to  be  cruelly  murdered,  that  ho 
might  iu  this  way  deprive  the  rebels  of  all  hope  of 
pardon. 

The  landgrave  having  assembled  his  troops,  said  to 
them :  "  I  know  well  that  we  princes  are  often  in  fault, 
for  we  are  men ;  but  it  is  God's  pleasure  that  princes 
be  honoured.  Let  us  save  oiu"  wives  and  our  children 
from  the  fury  of  these  murderers.  The  Lord  will  give 
us  the  victory;  for  He  has  said:  He  who  resists  i/ie 
potvei;  resists  the  ordinance  of  God."  Philip  then  gave 
the  signal  for  attack.  This  was  on  the  15  th  May, 
1525.  The  army  moved  forward;  but  the  crowd  of 
peasants  remained  immoveable,  singing  the  hymn, 
"  Come,  Holy  Spirit,"  and  waiting  till  Heaven  should 
declare  in  their  favour.  The  artillery  soon  broke  the 
main  body,  carrying  death  and  consternation  into  the 
midst  of  them.  Their  fanaticism  and  courage  at  once 
forsook  them, — they  were  seized  with  a  panic,  and  fled 
in  disorder.  Five  thousand  perished  in  the  flight. 
After  the  battle,  the  princes  and  their  victorious  troops 
entered  Frankenhausen.  A  soldier  having  gone  up  to 
the  loft  of  the  house  where  he  was  quartered,  found  a 
man  in  bed.  "  Who  are  you ?"  said  he  to  him.  "Are 
you  a  rebel  ?  "  Then  having  discovered  a  portfolio,  he 
took  it,  and  found  letters  in  it  addi-essed  to  Thomas 
Mlinzer.  "  Are  you  Thomas '?"  said  the  trooper.  The 
sick  man,  in  consternation,  said,  "No."  But  the 
soldier  using  dreadful  tlireats,  Miinzer  (for  it  was 
indeed  he)  confessed  who  he  was.  "  You  arc  my 
prisoner,"  said  the  soldier.  Being  taken  before  Duke 
George  and  the  landgrave,  Munzer  ended  by  saying 
that  he  had  done  right  in  trying  to  chastise  the  princes, 
since  they  opposed  the  Gospel. — "  Wretch  ! "  said  they 
to  him,  "  think  of  all  those  whose  destruction  you  have 
caused."  But  he  replied  with  a  smile,  in  the  midst  of 
his  anguish  :  "  They  would  have  it  so."  He  received 
the  sacrament  under  one  kind,  and  was  beheaded 
along  with  Pfeiffer,  his  lieutenant.  Mulhausen  was 
taken,  and  the  peasants  were  loaded  with  chains. 

A  noble  having  observed  in  the  crowd  of  prisoners 
a  peasant  of  good  appearance,  approached  him,  and 
said :  "  Well,  my  lad,  which  government  pleases  you 
best — that  of  peasants  or  that  of  princes?"  The  poor 
man  replied  with  a  sigh :  "  Ah,  my  lord,  there  is  no 
knife  whose  blade  cuts  so  keenly  as  the  tyranny  of 
one  peasant  over  another." 

The  remains  of  the  revolt  were  extinguished  in 
blood.  Duke  George,  in  particular,  displayed  great 
severity.  In  the  states  of  the  elector  there  was 
neither  punishment  nor  execution.  The  Word  of 
God,  preached  in  all  its  purity,  had  shewn  its  efficacy 
in  restraining  the  tumultuous  passions  of  the  people. 

In  fact,  Luther  had  never  ceased  to  combat  the 
rebellion,  which  he  regarded  as  the  forerunner  of  the 
universal  judgment.  He  had  spared  nothing — in- 
struction, entreaty,  not  even  irony.     At  the  end  of  the 


LUTHER'S  SPIRITUAL  AGONY, 


articles  prepared  by  the  rebels  at  Erfurt,  he  had 
fldded,  as  a  supplementary  article  :  "  Item,  the  follow- 
ing article  has  been  omitted :  Henceforth  the  honour- 
ftbte  council  shall  have  no  power ;  it  shall  have  nought 
to  do  but  sit  like  an  idol  or  a  log ;  the  community  will 
chew  all  its  meat  for  it ;  and  the  council  will  govern 
bound  hand  and  foot.  Henceforth  the  waggon  will 
go  before  the  horses,  the  horses  hold  the  reins,  and  all 
go  on  admirably,  conformably  to  the  fine  project  which 
these  articles  expound." 

Luther  did  not  content  himself  with  ^\Titing.  While 
the  tumult  was  at  its  height  he  left  Wittemberg,  and 
travelled  over  several  of  the  districts  where  the  greatest 
agitation  reigned.  He  preached  and  laboured  to  soften 
down  men's  spirits;  and  his  hand,  which  Ciod  rendered 
powerful,  directed,  calmed,  and  brought  back  to  their 
old  channel,  those  furious  torrents  which  had  burst 
their  banks. 

The  teachers  of  the  Reformation  everywhere  exerted 
the  same  influence.  At  Halle,  Breutz,  by  the  promises 
of  the  Divine  Word,  raised  the  drooping  spirits  of  the 
burghers,  so  that  four  thousand  peasants  had  fled 
before  six  hundred  citizens.  At  Ichterhausen,  a  mul- 
titude of  peasants  having  assembled  with  the  intention 
of  demohshing  several  castles,  and  putting  the  noble 
proprietors  to  death,  Frederick  Mycouius  went  to 
them  alone  ;  and  such  was  the  power  of  his  eloquence, 
that  their  design  was  immediately  abandoned. 

Such  was  the  part  acted  by  the  reformers  and  the 
Reformation  in  the  midst  of  the  revolt.  They  com- 
bated it  with  all  their  might  by  the  sword  of  the 
Word,  and  energetically  maintained  the  principles 
which  alone  are  capable,  at  all  times,  of  preserving 
order  and  obedience  among  the  nations.  Accordingly, 
Luther  maintained,  that  if  the  power  of  sound  doctrine 
had  not  arrested  the  fury  of  the  people,  the  revolt 
would  have  caused  much  gi-eater  ravages,  and  com- 
pletely overthrown  both  Church  and  State.  There  is 
every  reason  to  believe  that  this  dismal  foreboding 
would  have  been  realized. 

If  the  reformers  thus  combated  sedition,  it  was  not 
without  receiving  severe  shocks  from  it.  The  moral 
agony  which  Luther  at  first  felt  in  the  cell  at  Erfurt, 
was  perhaps  at  its  greatest  height  after  the  revolt  of 
the  peasants.  A  great  transformation  among  mankind 
is  not  produced  without  suffering  on  the  part  of  those 
who  are  the  instruments  of  it.  To  complete  the  work 
of  Christianity,  the  agony  of  the  cross  was  necessary; 
but  He  who  hung  upon  the  cross  addresses  each  of 
His  disciples  in  the  words:  Are  ye  able  to  be  bap- 
thed  tvith  the  baptism  that  I  am  baptized  %vith  ? 

On  the  part  of  the  princes  it  was  incessantly  re- 
peated that  Luther  and  his  doctrine  were  the  cause 
of  the  revolt ;  and  however  absurd  this  idea  was,  the 
refonner  could  not  see  it  so  generally  received  without 
a  feeling  of  deep  grief.  On  the  part  of  the  people, 
Miinzer,  and  all  the  leaders  of  the  sedition,  represented 
Luther  as  a  vile  hypocrite,  a  flatterer  of  the  gi-eat ;  and 
these  calumnies  were  readily  credited.  The  violent 
terms  in  which  Luther  denounced  the  rebels,  had 
offended  even  moderate  men.  The  friends  of  Rome 
I  triumphed ;  all  were  against  him,  and  the  wrath  of  his 
age  lay  as  a  burden  upon  him.  But  what  tore  his  soul 
most  of  all,  was  to  see  the  work  of  heaven  thus 


dragged  through  the  mire,  and  placed  in  the  same  rank 
with  the  most  fanatical  projects.  He  here  recognised 
his  Gethsemane ;  he  saw  the  bitter  cup  which  was 
presented  to  him,  and  anticipating  universal  desertion, 
exclaimed :  '"  Oiiiiies  r-os  fcandalttm  patiemini  in  ista 
node." — "  All  ye  shall  be  offended  because  of  me  this 
night,"  (Matt.  xxvi.  31.) 

Still,  amidst  all  this  bitterness  of  feeling,  he  pre- 
served his  faith.  "He,"  said  he,  "who  enabled  me 
to  trample  the  enemy  under  foot,  when  he  rose  up 
against  me  like  a  cruel  dragon  or  a  raging  lion,  will 
not  permit  this  enemy  to  crush  me,  now  that  he 
appears  with  the  perfidious  aspect  of  the  serpent.  I 
behold  these  misfortunes,  and  I  lament  them.  I  have 
often  asked  myself  if  it  would  not  be  better  to  allow 
the  papacy  quietly  to  take  its  own  course,  rather  than 
see  so  many  disturbances  and  divisions  break  out  in 
the  world.  But  no !  Far  better  rescue  some  from  the 
devil's  throat  than  leave  them  all  imder  his  murderous 
fangs." 

It  was  at  this  period  that  a  revolution  in  Luther's 
mind,  which  had  begun  in  the  Wartburg,  was  com- 
pleted. The  internal  life  no  longer  suflficed  him ;  the 
Church  and  her  institutions  assumed  a  high  im- 
portance in  his  eyes.  The  boldness  with  which  he  had 
demolished,  stopped  at  the  sight  of  more  radical  demo- 
lition ;  he  felt  that  it  was  necessary  to  preserve,  guide, 
build  up,  and  from  amidst  the  bloody  ruins  with  which 
the  wars  of  the  peasants  covered  Germany,  the  edifice 
of  the  New  Church  began  slowly  to  arise. 

These  disturbances  left  a  deep  and  lasting  emotion. 
The  population  was  struck  with  terror.  The  masses 
who  had  sought  in  the  Reformation  only  political 
liberty,  withdrew  spontaneously  when  they  saw  that 
spiritual  liberty  alone  was  offered  them.  The  oppo- 
sition of  Luther  to  the  peasants,  was  equivalent  to  a 
renunciation  of  the  ephemerid  favour  of  the  people. 
An  apparent  calm  was  soon  established,  and  the  tur- 
moil of  enthusiasm  and  sedition  wiis,  throughout  Ger- 
many, succeeded  by  a  silence  which  terror  inspired. 

Thus  the  popular  passions,  the  revolutionary  cause, 
the  prosecution  of  a  radical  equalit}-,  failed  in  the 
empire ;  but  the  Reformation  did  not  fail.  These  two 
movements,  which  many  confound,  are  clearly  distin- 
guished by  their  different  results.  Revolt  came  from 
beneath,  the  Reformation  from  above.  A  few  cavalry 
and  cannon  were  sufficient  to  suppress  the  former ;  but 
the  latter  ceased  not  to  rise,  strengthen,  and  increase, 
in  spite  of  the  incessantly  renewed  attacks  of  the  empire 
and  the  Church. 


CHAPTER  XIL 

Two  Issufs— Death  of  Frederick— The  Prince  and  the  Refonner— Catholic 
Alliance — Projects  of  Charles— Dangers. 

Still,  however,  the  cause  of  the  Reformation  seemed 
at  fii-st  doomed  to  perish  in  the  abyss  which  engulfed 
the  popular  liberties.  A  sad  event  which  now  occurred 
seemed  destined  to  hasten  its  end.  At  the  moment 
when  the  princes  were  marching  against  Miinzer,  ten 


320 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


days  before  liis  defeat,  the  old  Elector  of  Saxony — 
he  whom  God  had  raised  up  to  defeud  the  Reforma- 
tion against  attacks  from  without — was  descending 
into  the  tomb. 

His  strength  was  daily  decaying,  and  the  horrors 
with  which  the  war  of  the  peasants  was  accompanied, 
were  breaking  his  compassionate  heart.  "Ah!"  ex- 
claimed he,  with  a  deep  sigh  ;  "  if  it  were  God's  will,  I 
would  gladly  die.  No  longer  do  I  behold  on  the  earth 
either  love,  or  truth,  or  faith,  or  anything  that  is  good." 
Turning  his  eyes  from  the  combats  with  which  Ger- 
many was  resounding,  the  pious  prince  calmly  pre- 
pared for  his  departure,  in  his  castle  of  Lochau.  On 
the  4tli  May,  he  sent  for  his  chaplain,  the  faithful 
Spalatin.  "  You  do  well,"  said  he  to  him,  gently,  as 
he  entered,  "  to  come  and  see  me ;  for  the  sick  should 
be  visited,"  Then  ordering  his  couch  to  be  wheeled 
towards  the  table,  near  which  Spalatin  was  seated,  he 
ordered  all  his  attendants  to  retire,  and  affectionately 
taking  hold  of  Spalatin's  hand,  spoke  to  him  of  Luther, 
the  peasants,  and  his  approaching  departure.  At  eight 
in  the  evening  Spalatin  returned,  when  the  prince 
opened  his  whole  heart  to  him,  and  confessed  liis  sins 
in  the  presence  of  God.  The  next  day,  5th  May,  he 
received  the  communion  in  both  kinds.  He  had  no 
member  of  his  family  near  him — his  brother  and 
nephew  having  set  out  with  the  army;  but  his  domes- 
tics were  around  him,  according  to  the  ancient  custom 
of  those  times.  With  eyes  fixed  on  the  venerable 
prince,  who  had  been  so  kind  a  master,  they  were  all 
melted  in  tears.  "  My  little  children,"  said  he,  with  a 
gentle  voice,  "  if  I  have  offended  any  one  of  you,  let 
me  have  pardon  for  the  love  of  God ;  for  we  princes 
often  give  pain  to  inferiors,  and  that  is  wrong."  Thus 
Frederick  verified  tlie  words  of  the  apostle :  Let  the 
rich  rejoice  in  that  lie  is  made  low;  because  as  the  Jlower 
of  the  grass  he  shall  pass  uicay. 

Spalatin,  who  did  not  again  leave  him,  warmly  set 
before  him  the  rich  promises  of  the  Gospel ;  aud  the 
pious  elector,  in  its  powerful  consolations,  enjoyed 
ineffable  peace.  The  evangelical  doctrine  was  no 
longer  viewed  by  him  as  the  sword  which  attacks 
error,  pursues  it  wherever  it  is  found,  and  after  a 
vigorous  struggle,  finally  overcomes  it ;  it  distilled  in  his 
heart  like  the  rain  and  the  dew,  filling  it  with  hope 
and  joy.  The  present  world  was  forgotten,  and  Frede- 
rick saw  only  God  and  eternity. 

Feeling  death  rapidly  approaching,  he  destroyed  the 
testament  which  he  had  written  several  years  before, 
and  in  which  he  recommended  his  soul  to  the  "Mother 
of  God,"  and  dictated  another,  in  which  he  cast  himself 
upon  the  sacred  merits  of  Jesus  Christ  alone  "  for  the 
forgiveness  of  his  sins ;"  and  declared  his  firm  convic- 
tion that  "  he  was  ransomed  by  the  precious  blood  of 
his  beloved  Saviour."  After  this  he  said :  "  I  can  do 
no  more  ;"  aud,  at  five  in  the  evening,  gently  fell  asleep. 
"  He  was  a  child  of  peace,"  exclaimed  his  physician, 
"and  he  has  departed  in  peace."  "0  death!"  said 
Luther,  "  how  bitter  to  those  whom  thou  leavest  in 
life!" 

Luther,  who  was  then  in  Thuringia,  trying  to  calm 
it,  had  never  seen  the  elector  but  at  a  distance,  at 
AVorms,  standing  beside  Charles  V.  But  these  two 
men  had  met  in  soul  the  first  moment  the  Keformation 


appeared.  Frederick  longed  for  nationality  and  inde- 
pendence, as  Luther  longed  for  truth  and  reformation. 
No  doubt  the  Reformation  was,  first  of  all,  a  spiritual 
work ;  but  it  was,  pei-haps,  necessary  to  its  first  success, 
that  it  should  link  itself  to  some  national  interest. 
Accordingly,  no  sooner  had  Luther  made  a  stand 
against  indulgences,  than  the  alliance  between  the 
prince  and  the  monk  was  tacitly  concluded — an  alli- 
ance purely  moral,  without  contract,  without  writing, 
without  words  even,  and  in  which  the  strong  gave  no 
other  aid  to  the  weak  than  to  allow  him  to  act.  But 
now  that  the  vigorous  oak,  under  whose  shelter  the 
Reformation  had  gradually  grovifn  up,  was  hewn  down, 
now  that  the  enemies  of  the  Gospel  were  everywhere 
displaying  new  hatred  and  strength,  while  its  partisans 
were  obliged  to  hide  themselves  or  be  silent,  nothing 
seemed  able  to  defend  it  against  the  sword  of  its  furious 
persecutors. 

The  confederates  at  Ratisbon,  who  had  vanquished 
the  peasants  in  the  south  and  west  of  the  empire,  every- 
where struck  at  the  Reformation,  as  well  as  the  revolt. 
At  Wurtzburg  and  Bamberg  several  of  the  most  peace- 
able citizens,  some  even  who  had  opposed  the  peasants, 
were  put  to  death.  "  No  matter,"  it  was  openly  said, 
"  they  were  adherents  of  the  Gospel."  This  was 
enough  to  make  them  lose  their  heads. 

Duke  George  hoped  to  make  the  landgrave  and 
Duke  John  share  in  his  love  and  his  hatred.  "  See," 
said  he  to  them,  after  the  defeat  of  the  peasants,  and 
shewing  them  the  field  of  battle, — "  see  the  mischiefs 
engendered  by  Luther."  John  and  Philip  seemed  to 
give  some  hope  of  adopting  his  views.  "  Duke 
George,"  said  the  reformer,  "imagines  he  is  to  triumph 
now  that  Frederick  is  dead ;  but  Christ  reigns  in  the 
midst  of  His  enemies:  in  vain  do  they  gnash  their 
teeth  ;  their  desire  will  perish." 

George  lost  no  time  in  forming  a  confederation, 
similar  to  that  of  Ratisbon,  in  the  north  of  Germany. 
The  electors  of  Mentz  and  Brandenburg,  dukes  Henry 
aud  Eric  of  Brunswick,  and  Duke  George,  met  at 
Dessau,  and  there,  in  July,  concluded  a  Roman  alli- 
ance. George  urged  the  new  elector,  and  the  land- 
grave, his  son-in-law,  to  give  in  their  adherence  to  it. 
Then,  as  if  to  announce  what  were  to  be  its  results,  he 
beheaded  two  citizens  of  Leipsic,  in  whose  house  some 
of  the  reformer's  writings  had  been  found. 

At  the  same  time  a  letter  of  Charles  V.,  dated 
Toledo,  arrived  in  Germany,  appointing  a  new  diet 
to  be  held  at  Augsburg.  Charles  wished  to  give  a 
new  constitution  to  the  empire,  that  would  enable  him 
to  dispose,  at  pleasure,  of  the  forces  of  Germany.  The 
religious  divisions  furnished  him  with  the  means.  He 
had  only  to  let  loose  the  Catholics  on  the  evangelicals. 
When  they  had  mutually  enfeebled  each  other,  he 
would  obtain  an  easy  triumph  over  both.  Down  with 
the  Lutherans !  was  the  emperor's  watchword. 

Thus  there  was  a  kind  of  universal  league  against 
the  Reformation.  Never  had  the  soul  of  Luther  been 
so  oppressed  with  fears.  The  remains  of  Miinzer's 
sect  had  sworn  that  they  would  have  his  life,  aud  his 
only  protector  was  no  more.  Duke  George,  he  was 
informed,  intended  to  apprehend  him  even  in  Wittem- 
berg.  The  princes  who  might  have  been  able  to 
defend  him  hung  down  their  heads,  and  seemed  to 


THE  NUNS  OF  NIMPTSCH. 


321 


have  forsaken  the  Gospel.  The  uuiversity,  already 
thinned  by  disturbances,  was,  it  was  said,  to  be  sup- 
pressed by  the  new  elector.  Charles,  victorious  at 
Pavia,  was  assembling  a  new  diet,  with  the  view  of 
giving  the  finishing  blow  to  the  Reformation.  What 
dangers,  then,  must  he  not  have  foreseen !  .  .  That 
anguish,  those  inward  sufferings  which  li;i'l  nl'dn  «  lun;,' 
cries  from  Luther,  tore  his  soul.  How  >li;ill  In-  i. -ist 
so  many  enemies?  Amidst  these  agilaiion^,  in  pru- 
sence  of  these  many  perils,  beside  the  corpse  of  Frede- 
rick almost  before  it  was  cold,  and  the  dead  bodies  of 
the  peasants  who  strewed  the  plains  of  Germany — who 
would  have  thought  it — Luther  married  ! 


CHAPTER  XHL 


In  the  monastery  of  Nimptsch,  near  Grimma,  there 
were,  in  1523,  nine  nuns,  who  diligently  read  the 
Word  of  God,  and  had  perceived  the  contrast  between 
the  Christian  life  and  the  life  of  the  cloister.  Their 
names  were — JIagdaleno  Staupitz,  Eliza  Canitz,  Ava 
Grossen,  Ava  and  Margaret  Schonfeld,  Laneta  Golis, 
Margaret  and  Catherine  Zeschau,  and  Catherine  Bora. 
The  first  proceeding  of  these  young  persons,  after  they 
had  withdrawn  from  the  superstitions  of  the  monastery, 
was  to  write  their  parents.  "The  salvation  of  our 
souls,"  they  said,  "does  not  allow  us  to  continue  any 
longer  to  live  in  a  cloister."  Tlie  parents,  fearing  the 
trouble  which  such  a  resolution  might  give  them, 
harshly  repulsed  the  desire  of  their  daughters.  The 
poor  nuns  knew  not  what  to  do.  How  were  they 
to  leave  the  monastery  ?  They  trembled  at  the  thought 
of  so  desperate  a  step.  At  last,  the  disgust  which  the 
papal  worship  produced,  carried  the  day.  They  pro- 
mised not  to  quit  each  other ;  but  to  repair,  in  a  body, 
to  some  respectable  place,  decently,  and  in  order. 
Leonard  Koppe  and  Wolff  Tomitzch,  two  worthy  and 
pious  citizens  of  Torgau,  offered  their  assistance.  They 
accepted  it,  as  sent  by  God  himself,  and  left  the  con- 
vent of  Nimptsch  without  meeting  with  any  opposition, 
as  if  the  hand  of  the  Lord  had  opened  the  gates  for 
them.  Koppe  and  Tomitzch  received  them  in  their 
car;  and,  on  the  7th  April,  1523,  the  nine  nuns, 
astonished  at  their  own  hardihood,  stopped,  with 
emotion,  before  the  gate  of  the  old  Augustine  con- 
vent where  Luther  was  residing. 

"  It  is  not  I  who  have  done  it,"  said  Luther,  on 
receiving  them ;  "  but  would  to  God  I  could  thus 
save  all  captive  consciences,  and  empty  all  cloisters." 
Several  persons  made  an  offer  to  the  doctor  to  receive 
the  nuns  into  their  houses ;  and  Catherine  Bora  was 
taken  into  the  family  of  the  burgomaster  of  AVittem- 
berg. 

If,  at  that  time,  Luther  had  any  thought  of  pre- 
paring for  some  solemn  event,  it  was  to  mount  the 
scaffold — not  approach  the  hymeneal  altar.  Many 
months  later,  his  answer  to  those  who  spoke  to  him  of 


marriage,  was:  "God  can  change  my  lieart  as  He 
pleases ;  but  now,  at  least,  I  have  no  thought  whatever 
of  taking  a  wife ;  not  that  I  do  not  feel  some  inclina- 
tion for  the  married  state:  I  am  neither  wood  nor 
stone ;  but  I  am  in  daily  expectation  of  the  death  and 
punishment  due  to  a  heretic." 

Still  everything  in  the  Chiu'ch  continued  to  advance. 
The  monastic  life,  an  invention  of  man,  was  every- 
where succeeded  by  the  habits  of  domestic  life.  On 
Sunday,  'Jih  October,  Luther,  having  risen  as  usual, 
laid  aside  his  Augustine  frock,  put  on  the  dress  of  a 
secular  priest,  and  then  made  his  appearance  in  the 
church,  where  the  change  produced  the  greatest  joy. 
Christendom,  which  had  renewed  its  youth,  gave  a 
glad  welcome  to  all  which  announced  that  old  things 
were  passed  away. 

Shortly  after  the  last  monk  quitted  the  convent;  but 
Luther  still  remained ;  his  steps  alone  were  heard  in 
its  long  passages,  and  he  sat  alone  in  silence  in  the 
refectory,  which  was  wont  to  echo  with  the  tattle  of 
the  monks.  An  eloquent  solitude  1  one  which  attested 
the  triumphs  of  the  Word  of  God !  The  convent  had 
ceased  to  exist.  Towards  the  end  of  1524,  Luther 
sent  the  keys  of  the  monastery  to  the  elector,  stating 
that  he  would  see  ^vhere  God  might  bo  pleased  to  give 
him  food.  The  elector  gave  the  convent  to  the  uni- 
versity, and  asked  Luther  to  continue  to  reside  in  it. 
The  abode  of  the  monks  was  soon  to  become  the  hearth 
of  a  Christian  family. 

Luther,  whose  heart  was  so  well  fitted  to  relish  the 
sweets  of  domestic  life,  honoiu-ed  and  loved  the  married 
state ;  it  is  even  probable  that  he  had  an  attachment 
for  Catherine  Bora.  For  a  long  time  his  scruples,  and 
the  thought  of  the  calumnies  to  which  the  step  might 
give  rise,  had  prevented  him  from  thinking  of  her; 
and  he  had  made  an  offer  of  poor  Catherine,  first  to 
Baumgartner  of  Nuremberg,  and  then  to  Doctor 
Glatz  of  Nuremberg.  But  when  he  saw  Baumgartner 
refuse  Catherine,  and  Glatz  refused  by  her,  he  asked 
himself  more  seriously,  if  he  should  not  form  the  con- 
nection in  his  own  person. 

His  old  father,  who  had  been  so  much  grieved  at 
his  embracing  the  ecclesiastical  state,  urged  him  to 
marry.  But  there  was  one  idea  which  perpetually 
pi'csented  itself  to  Luther's  conscience  with  new 
energy :  marriage  is  a  divine — celibacy  a  human  insti- 
tution. He  had  a  horror  at  everything  that  came 
from  Rome.  "I  wish,"  said  he  to  his  friends,  "to 
preserve  no  pai-t  of  my  papistical  life."  He  prayed 
night  and  day,  beseeching  the  Lord  to  deliver  him 
from  his  uncertainty.  At  length  all  scruples  were 
dissipated  by  one  consideration.  To  all  the  motives 
of  convenience  and  personal  feeling  which  led  him  to 
apply  to  him=elf  the  words,  It  is  not  good  that  man 
should  be  al<ui. .  \\:\<  a.Mr.l  a  motive  of  a  still  higher 
nature  and  ui.Mlir  piuir.  He  saw,  that  if  he  was 
called  to  marriage  as  a  luau,  he  wiis  still  more  called 
to  it  as  a  reformer.     This  decided  him. 

"If  this  monk  marries,"  said  his  friend,  lawyer 
Schurff,  "  he  will  make  the  world  and  the  devil  burst 
with  laughter,  and  destroy  the  work  which  he  has 
begun."  This  saying  made  a  very  different  impression 
on  Luther  from  what  might  have  been  supposed.  To 
defy  the  world,  the  devil,  and  his  enemies,  and,  by  an 


HISTORY  OF  THE  KEFOEMATION. 


action,  fitted,  as  was  thought,  to  destroy  the  work  of 
the  Eeformatiou,  to  prevent  the  success  of  it  from 
being  in  any  way  ascribed  to  him,  was  the  very  thiug 
which  he  desired.  Hence,  boldly  lifting  his  head,  he 
replied :  "  Very  well,  I  shall  do  it.  I  shall  play  this 
trick  to  the  world  and  the  devil ;  I  will  give  this  joy 
to  my  father ;  I  will  marry  Catherine."  By  marrying, 
Lutlier  broke  still  more  completely  with  the  institutions 
of  the  papacy.  He  confirmed  the  doctrine  which  he 
had  preached  by  his  example ;  and  encom-aged  the 
timid  entu-ely  to  renounce  their  errors.  At  this  time 
Eome  was,  apparently,  here  aud  there  regaining  part 
of  the  territory  which  she  had  lost :  she  was,  perhaps, 
beginning  to  cherish  a  hope  of  victory;  and,  lo!  a 
mighty  explosion  carries  surprise  and  terror  into  her 
ranks,  and  makes  her  more  fully  aware  of  the  courage 
of  the  enemy,  wliom  she  thought  she  had  tamed.  "  I 
■wish,"  said  Luther,  "  to  bear  testimony  to  the  Gospel, 
not  only  by  my  words,  but  also  by  my  works.  In  the 
face  of  my  enemies,  who  already  triumph,  and  sing- 
jubilee,  I  mean  to  marry  a  nun,  in  order  that  they 
may  understand  and  know  that  they  have  not  van- 
quished me.  I  do  not  marry  in  the  hope  of  living 
long  with  ray  wife;  but  seeing  people  and  princes 
letting  loose  their  fui-y  against  me,  foreseeing  that  my 
end  is  near,  aud  that  after  my  death  they  will  trample 
my  doctrine  under  foot,  I  mean  to  leave,  for  the 
edification  ckf  the  weak,  a  striking  confirmation  of 
what  I  have  taught  here  below." 

On  the  11th  June,  1525,  Luther  repau-ed  to  the 
house  of  his  friend  and  colleague,  Amsdorff.  He  asked 
for  Pomeranus,  whom  he  distinguished  by  the  name  of 
"the  Pastor,"  to  bless  his  union.  The  celebrated 
painter,  Lucas  Cranach,  aud  Doctor  John  ApeUes, 
acted  as  witnesses.     Melancthou  was  not  present. 

Luther's  marriage  made  a  noise  throughout  Christen- 
dom. He  was  assailed  from  all  quarters  with  accusa- 
tions and  calumnies.  "It  is  incest!"  exclaimed  Henry 
Vin.  "A  monk  marrying  a  vestal!"  said  some. 
"  Antichrist  must  be  born  of  this  union,"  said  others ; 
"  for  there  is  a  j)rophecy  that  he  is  to  spring  from  a 
monk  and  a  nun."  On  this  Erasmus  observed,  with  a 
sarcastic  smile:  "If  the  prophecy  be  true,  how  many 
thousands  of  Antichrists  must  the  world  already 
contain ! "  But  while  Luther  was  thus  assailed,  several 
wise  and  moderate  men  within  the  pale  of  the  Romish 
Church  took  up  his  defence.  "Luther,"  said  Erasmus, 
"has  married  a  member  of  the  ilhistrious  house  of 
Bora,  but  without  dowry."  A  still  more  venerable 
testimony  was  given  to  him.  The  teacher  of  Germany, 
Philip  Melaucthon,  whom  this  bold  step  had  at  first 
amazed,  said,  in  that  solemn  tone  to  which  even  his 
enemies  listened  with  respect:  "If  it  is  pretended  that 
there  is  anything  unbecoming  in  the  marriage  of 
Luther,  it  is  a  lie  and  a  calumny.  I  think  he  must 
have  done  violence  to  his  own  feelings  in  marrying. 
Married  life  is  a  humble,  but  it  is  also  a  holy  state — if 
there  is  such  a  state  in  the  world — and  the  Scriptures 
uniformly  represent  it  as  honourable  iu  the  sight  of 
God." 

Luther  was  at  first  moved  on  seeing  so  much  con- 
tempt and  wrath  poured  out  upon  him.  Melancthon 
redoubled  his  friendship  and  regard ;  and  the  reformer 
was  soon  able  to  see  in  the  opposition  of  men  only  a 


sign  of  the  approbation  of  God.  "  Did  I  not  offend 
the  world,"  said  he,  "  I  should  have  reason  to  tremble, 
lest  what  I  have  done  should  not  be  agreeable  to  God." 

There  was  an  interval  of  eight  years  between 
Luther's  attack  on  indulgences  and  his  marriage  with 
Cathei-iue  Bora.  It  would  thus  be  difficult,  though  it 
is  still  attempted,  to  attribute  his  zeal  against  the 
abuses  of  the  Church  to  an  impatient  desire  of  marry- 
ing. He  was  at  this  time  forty-two  years  of  age,  and 
Catherine  Bora  had  been  two  years  at  Wittemberg. 

Luther  was  happy  in  his  marriage.  "  The  greatest 
gift  of  God,"  said  he,  "is  a  pious  amiable  spouse,  who 
fears  God,  loves  her  house,  and  with  whom  one  can 
live  in  peace  and  perfect  confidence."  Some  months 
after  his  marriage  he  announced  to  one  of  his  friends 
that  Catherine  had  hopes  of  becoming  a  mother.  A 
son  was  born  about  a  year  after  the  marriage.  The 
sweets  of  domestic  life  soou  dissipated  the  clouds  which 
the  anger  of  his  enemies  had  at  first  raised  around 
him.  His  Ketha,  (Kate,)  as  he  called  her,  shewed  the 
greatest  affection  for  him — comforted  him,  when  he 
was  depressed,  by  quoting  passages  of  the  Bible  to  him, 
relieved  him  from  all  the  cares  of  ordinary  life,  sat 
beside  him  during  his  hours  of  leisure,  embroidered  the 
portrait  of  her  husband,  reminded  him  of  the  friends 
to  whom  he  had  forgotten  to  write,  and  often  amused 
him  by  her  simple-hearted  questions.  There  appears 
to  have  been  a  certain  degree  of  pride  in  her  temper: 
hence  Luther  sometimes  called  her  "  Sir  Kate."  He 
one  day  said  in  jest,  that  if  he  were  still  unmarried  he 
would  hew  an  obedient  wife  for  himself  out  of  stone, 
for  such  an  one  nowhere  existed  in  reality.  His  letters 
fully  expressed  his  fondness  for  Catherine.  He  called 
her  "his  dear  aud  affectionate  wife," — "his  dear  and 
amiable  Kate."  Luther's  humour  was  more  sportive 
in  Catherine's  society;  and  this  happy  turn  of  mind 
continued  with  him  ever  after,  even  amidst  the  greatest 
dangers. 

The  almost  universal  corruption  of  the  clergy  had 
brought  the  priesthood  into  the  greatest  contempt ;  and 
though  there  were  some  true  servants  of  God,  their 
isolated  virtues  could  do  away  with  it.  Domestic 
peace,  conjugal  fidelity,  the  surest  foundations  of 
earthly  happiness,  were  continually  disturbed  in  town 
and  country  by  the  licentiousness  of  monks  and  priests. 
None  were  secure  against  their  attempts  at  seduction. 
They  took  advantage  of  the  free  access  which  they 
had  into  the  bosom  of  families,  and  sometimes  also  of 
the  intimate  intercourse  furnished  by  the  confessional, 
to  instil  a  deadly  poison  into  their  penitents,  and  so 
gi-atify  their  vicious  propensities.  The  Reformation, 
by  abolishing  the  celibacy  of  priests,  re-established  the 
sacredness  of  the  marriage  tie.  The  marriage  of 
ecclesiastics  put  an  end  to  an  immense  number  of 
secret  crimes.  The  reformers  became  models  to  their 
flocks  in  the  most  intimate  and  important  relation  of 
life ;  and  the  people  were  not  slow  iu  expressing  their 
joy  at  again  seeing  the  ministers  of  religion  become 
husbands  and  fathers. 


REFORMATION  IN  PRUSSIA. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

Till!  r.nniltTnve— Tho  Elector— Prussia— Reformation— Secularization— Tlie 
Archbishop  of  Mentz— Conference  of  Friedewalt— Diet— Alliance  of 
Torgau— Resistance  of  the  Reformers— Alliance  of  Magilebnrg — Tlie 
Callioliea  redouble  their  ellorts— Marriage  of  the  Emrcror— Threatening 
Letters— The  two  Parties. 

LuTiiEu's  marriage  at  first  seemed  to  add  to  the 
embarrassment  of  the  Reformation,  which  was  still 
siifferiii";  from  the  shock  which  it  had  received  from 
the  revolt  of  the  peasants.  The  sword  of  the  emperor 
and  the  princes  had  always  been  drawn  against  it,  and 
its  friends  the  landgrave  and  the  new  elector  seemed 
discouraged,  and  afraid  to  speak  out. 

However,  this  state  of  things  was  not  of  long 
duration.  The  young  landgrave  soon  stood  up  boldly. 
Ardent  and  courageous,  like  Luther,  he  had  been  won 
by  tlie  charms  of  the  reformer's  character.  He  threw 
himself  into  the  cause  of  the  Reformation  with  the 
eagerness  of  youth,  and  at  the  same  time  studied  it  with 
the  gravity  of  a  maturer  intellect. 

In  Saxony,  the  place  of  Frederick  had  not  been 
supplied  either  in  regard  to  wisdom  or  influence;  but 
his  brother,  the  Elector  John,  instead  of  the  passive 
part  of  protection,  interfered  more  directly,  and  with 
more  courage  iu  religious  affairs.  AVhcn  quitting 
"Weimar,  on  the  IGth  August,  1525,  he  intimated  to  the 
a.<scmblod  priests :  "  I  desire  that  iu  future  you  preach 
the  pure  AVord  of  God,  without  any  luimau  addition." 
Some  old  ecclesiastics,  who  did  not  know  how  to  obey, 
replied  with  great  simplicity :  "  We  are  not  forbidden, 
however,  to  s.ay  mass  for  the  dead,  nor  to  bless  water 
and  salt." — "  Everything,"  resumed  the  elector,  "  cere- 
monies as  well  as  preaching,  ought  to  be  regulated  by 
the  Word  of  God." 

The  young  landgrave,  shortly  after,  formed  the 
strange  project  of  converting  his  father-in-law,  Duke 
George.  Sometimes  he  proved  the  sufliciency  of 
Scripture ;  sometimes  attacked  the  mass,  the  pap.acy, 
and  vows.  Letter  succeeded  letter,  and  all  the  declara- 
tions of  the  Word  of  God  were  alternately  opposed  to 
the  faith  of  the  old  duke. 

These  efforts  did  not  prove  useless.  The  sou  of 
Duke  George  was  gained  to  the  Reformation.  But 
Philip  failed  with  his  father-in-law.  "In  one  hundred 
years."  said  the  latter,  '•  it  will  be  seen  who  is  in  the 
right." — "Sad  words,"  said  the  Elector  of  Saxeny, 
"  what  kind  of  faith  is  it  that  stands  in  need  of  such  a 
trial?  Poor  duke!  .  .  .  He  will  wait  long.  God, 
I  fear,  has  hardened  him  as  He  did  Pharaoh." 

In  Philip  the  evangelical  party  found  a  bold  and 
intelligent  leader,  capable  of  withstanding  the  formid- 
able attacks  which  their  enemies  were  preparing.  But 
is  there  not  reason  to  regret  that  the  head  of  the 
Reformation  was,  from  this  moment,  a  man  of  war, 
instead  of  being  a  mere  disciple  of  the  Word  of  God? 
The  human  element  w.os  enlarged,  and  the  spiritual 
element  diminished.  This  was  detrimental.  For  every 
work  ought  to  be  developed  according  to  its  own 
nature,  and  that  of  the  Reformation  was  essentially 
spiritual. 

God  was  multiplying  its  supports.    A  powerful  state 


on  the  frontiers  of  Germany,  Prussia,  gladly  arrayed 
itself  under  the  Gospel  standard.  The  ehivalric  and 
religious  spirit  which  had  founded  the  Teutonic  order 
had  gradually  died  away  with  the  times  which  gave  it 
birth.  The  knights,  now  seeking  only  their  private 
interest,  had  produced  dissatisfaction  among  the  people 
subject  to  them.  Poland  had  profited  by  this  in  1466, 
to  obtain  from  the  order  a  recognition  of  her  sove- 
reignty. Tlie  people,  the  knights,  the  grand-master, 
the  Polish  government,  were  so  many  opposite  powers, 
which  were  continu.illy  jostling  each  other,  and 
rendered  the  prosperity  of  the  country  impossible. 

Then  came  the  Reformation,  and  iu  it  was  recognised 
the  only  means  of  deliverance  to  this  unhappy  people. 
Brismann,  Speratus,  Poliander,  (Dr.  Eck's  secretary 
at  the  Leipsic  discussion.)  and  othei-s,  preached  the 
Gospel  in  Prussia. 

One  day  a  mendicant  from  the  countries  subject  to 
the  Teutonic  knights,  arrived  at  Wittemberg,  and, 
halting  before  Luther's  door,  with  solemn  voice,  sang 
Poliander's  beautiful  hymn, — 

"  To  us  at  lcnj,'tli  salvation  comes." 

The  reformer,  who  had  never  heard  the  hymn,  listened 
with  astonishment  and  rapture.  The  foreign  accent 
of  the  singer  increased  his  joy.  "Again!  again!" 
exclaimed  he,  when  the  mendicant  had  finished.  He 
then  asked  him  where  he  got  the  hymn  ;  and  his  tears 
began  to  fall  when  he  learned  that  from  the  shores  of 
the  Baltic  a  cr}'  of  deliverance  was  resounding  even  in 
Wittemberg.  Then  clasping  his  hands,  he  thanked 
God. 

In  fact,  s.alvation  was  there. 

"Take  pity  on  our  misery,"  said  the  people  of 
Prussia  to  the  grand-master,  "  and  give  us  preachers 
who  proclaim  the  pure  Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ." 
Albert  at  first  gave  no  answer;  but  he  entered  into 
conference  with  Sigismund,  king  of  Poland,  his  uncle 
and  sovereign  lord,  who  acknowledged  him  as  here- 
ditary Duke  of  Prussia.  The  new  prince  entered  his 
capital  of  Konigsberg  amid  the  ringing  of  bells,  and 
the  acclamations  of  the  people;  all  the  houses  were 
splendidly  decorated,  and  the  streets  strewed  with 
flowers.  "  There  is  only  one  ordei\"  said  Albert,  "and 
that  is  Christendom."  The  monastic  orders  disap- 
peared, and  the  Divine  order  was  re-established. 

The  bishops  gave  up  their  secular  rights  to  the  new 
duke ;  the  convents  were  turned  into  hospitals  ;  the 
Gospel  was  preached  even  in  the  humblest  village ;  and, 
in  the  following  year,  Albert  married  Dorothea,  daugh- 
ter of  the  King  of  Denmark,  whose  "  faith  in  the  one 
only  Sa^-iour  "  was  immoveable. 

The  pope  called  upon  the  emperor  to  exercise  seve- 
rity against  this  "apostate"  monk,  and  Charles  put 
AJbert  under  the  ban. 

Another  prince,  of  the  family  of  Brandenburg, 
Albert,  archbishop  of  Mentz,  was  then  on  the  point 
of  following  the  example  of  his  cousin.  The  war  of 
the  peaScints  threatened  the  ecclesiastical  st.ites  in  par- 
ticular ;  the  elector,  Luther,  all  Germany,  believed  that 
they  were  on  the  eve  of  a  great  revolution.  The  arch- 
bishop, thinking  that  the  only  means  of  saving  his  prin- 
cipality was  secretly  to  secularize  it,  asked  Luther  to 
prepare  the  people  for  this  bold  step.  This  Luther 
did  by  a  letter  which   he  prepared  for  them,  and 


324 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


intended  to  publish.  ''  God,"  said  he,  "  has  laid  a 
heavy  hand  on  the  clergy, — they  must  fall, — nothing 
can  save  them."  But  the  war  of  the  peasants  having 
terminated  much  more  speedily  than  had  been  imagined, 
the  cardinal  kept  his  temporal  possessions ;  his  fears 
■were  dissipated,  and  he  renounced  the  project  of 
secularization. 

While  John  of  Saxony,  Philip  of  Hesse,  and  Albert 
of  Prussia,  openly  professed  the  Reformation,  and  thus 
the  place  of  prudent  Frederick  was  supplied  by  three 
princes  of  resolution  and  courage,  the  holy  work  m.ade 
progress  in  the  Church  and  among  the  nations.  Luther 
solicited  the  elector  to  establish  the  evangelical  minis- 
try throughout  his  states  instead  of  the  priesthood  of 
Rome,  and  to  appoint  a  general  visitation  of  the 
churches.  About  the  same  time  episcopal  powers 
began  to  be  exercised,  and  ministers  to  be  consecrated. 
"  The  pope,  the  bishops,  the  monks,  and  the  priests, 
need  not  make  a  noise.  "We  are  the  Church.  There 
is  no  other  Church  than  the  assembly  of  those  who 
have  the  Word  of  God,  and  are  purified  by  it." 

All  this  could  not  be  said  and  done  without  pro- 
ducing a  powerful  reaction.  Rome  had  thought  the 
Reformation  extinguished  in  the  blood  of  the  rebel- 
lious peasants ;  but  everywhere  its  flames  reappeared 
brighter  and  fiercer.  She  resolved  to  make  a  new 
effort.  The  pope  and  the  emperor  wrote  threatening 
letters — the  one  from  Rome,  the  other  from  Spain. 
The  imperial  government  prepared  to  replace  matters 
on  the  ancient  footing,  and  it  was  seriously  proposed 
entirely  to  crush  the  Reformation  at  the  approachingdiet. 

The  electoral  prince  of  Saxony  and  the  landgi-ave 
alarmed,  met,  on  the  7th  November,  at  the  castle  of 
Friedewalt,  and  agreed  that  their  deputies  at  the  diet 
should  act  on  a  common  understanding.  Thus,  in  the 
forest  of  SuUingen  were  formed  the  first  elements  of 
an  evangelical  alliance  opposed  to  the  leagues  of  Ratis- 
bon  and  Dessau. 

The  diet  was  opened  on  the  11th  December,  at 
Augsburg.  The  evangelical  princes  did  not  attend  in 
person.  The  deputies  of  Saxony  and  Hesse  spoke  out 
boldly  at  the  outset.  "The  revolt  of  the  peasants," 
said  they,  "  was  occasioned  by  imprudent  severity. 
Neither  by  fire  nor  sword  can  the  truth  of  God  be 
plucked  out  of  men's  hearts.  If  you  resolve  on  employ- 
ing violence  against  the  Reformation,  the  result  will  be 
more  dreadful  evils  than  those  which  you  have  just 
with  difficulty  escaped." 

It  was  felt  that  the  resolution  which  should  be  taken, 
could  not  fail  to  be  of  immense  importance.  Every 
one  was  desirous  to  put  off  the  decisive  moment  in 
order  to  gain  additional  strength.  It  was,  therefore, 
resolved  to  meet  again  at  Spires  in  May  following. 
The  rescript  of  Nuremberg  was,  meantime,  to  continue 
in  force.  ''Then,"  said  they,  "we  will  thoroughly 
decide  the  points  of  holy  faith,  righteousness,  and 
peace." 

The  landgrave  prosecuted  his  design.  In  the  end  of 
February,  1526,  he  had  a  conference  with  the  elector 
at  Gotha.  The  two  princes  agreed  that  if  they  were 
attacked  on  account  of  the  Word  of  God,  they  would 
unite  their  whole  forces  to  resist  their  adversaries. 
This  alliance  was  ratified  at  Torgau.  It  was  to  have 
important  results. 


The  landgrave  did  not  think  the  alliance  of  Torgau 
sufficient.  Convinced  that  Charles  V.  was  seeking  to 
form  a  league  "  against  Christ  aud  His  holy  Word,"  he 
wrote  letter  after  letter  to  the  elector,  representing  the 
necessity  of  uniting  with  other  states.  "  For  myself," 
said  he,  "  I  would  die,  and  be  chased  from  my  throne, 
sooner  than  abjure  the  A\^ord  of  God." 

At  the  electoral  court  there  was  great  uncertainty. 
In  fact,  there  was  a  serious  obstacle  to  the  union  of 
the  evangelical  princes.  This  obstacle  was  in  Luther 
and  Melancthon.  Luther  wished  that  the  evangelical 
doctrine  should  be  defended  by  God  alone.  He  thought 
that  the  less  men  interfered  with  it,  the  more  manifest 
the  interposition  of  God  would  appear.  All  the  mea- 
sures proposed  to  be  taken  seemed  to  him  attributable 
to  cowardly  timidity  and  culpable  distrust.  Melanc- 
thon feared  that  the  alliance  of  the  evangelical  princes 
was  the  very  thing  to  bring  on  the  war  which  it  was 
wished  to  avoid. 

The  landgrave  did  not  allow  himself  to  be  arrested 
by  these  considerations,  and  endeavoured  to  induce  the 
states  ai'ound  him  to  join  the  alliance ;  but  his  efforts 
were  not  crowned  with  success.  Frankfort  refused  to 
become  a  party  to  it.  The  Elector  of  Treves  with- 
drew his  opposition,  and  accepted  of  a  pension  from 
the  emperor.  The  elector-palatine  himself,  whose 
evangelical  leanings  were  well  l.uowu,  rejected  the 
propositions  of  Philip. 

The  landgrave  thus  failed  in  the  direction  of  the 
Rhine ;  but  the  elector,  notwithstanding  of  the  advice 
of  the  theologians  of  the  Reformation,  entered  into 
negotiation  with  the  princes  who  had  at  all  times  rallied 
round  the  throne  of  Saxony.  On  the  12th  June,  the 
elector  and  his  sou,  the  Dukes  Philip,  Ernest,  Otho, 
and  Francis  of  Brunswick  and  Limeburg,  Duke  Henry 
of  Mecklenburg,  Prince  Wolff  of  Anhalt,  Counts  Albert 
and  Gebhard  of  Mansfeld,  met  at  Magdeburg,  and 
there,  under  the  presidency  of  the  elector,  formed  an 
alliance  similar  to  that  of  Torgau. 

"  God  Almighty,"  said  these  princes,  "  having,  in  His 
ineffable  mercy,  caused  His  holy  and  eternal  AYord, 
the  food  of  our  souls  and  our  greatest  treasure  here 
below,  to  appear  again  amongst  men ;  and  powerful 
manoeuvres  liaviug  been  employed  on  the  part  of  the 
clergy  and  their  adherents,  to  annihilate  and  extirpate 
it,  we  being  firmly  assured  that  He  who  has  sent  it  to 
glorify  His  name  upon  the  earth,  is  able  also  to  main- 
tain it,  engage  to  preserve  this  holy  Word  to  our 
people ;  and  for  this  end  to  employ  our  goods,  our  lives, 
our  states,  our  subjects,  all  that  we  possess, — confiding 
not  in  our  armies,  but  solely  in  the  omnipotence  of  the 
Lord,  whose  instruments  we  desire  to  be."  So  spoke 
the  princes. 

The  town  of  Magdeburg  was  two  days  after  received 
into  the  alliance,  and  the  new  Duke  of  Prussia,  Albert, 
Duke  of  Brandenburg,  gave  in  his  adherence  to  it  in  a 
special  form. 

The  evangelical  alliance  was  formed ;  but  the  dan- 
gers which  it  was  intended  to  avert  became  every  day 
more  alarming.  The  priests  and  princes  friendly  to 
Rome  had  seen  this  Reformation,  which  they  thought 
completely  strangled,  suddenly  rise  up  before  them  in 
a  formidable  shape.  The  partisans  of  the  Reforma- 
tion were  already  almost  as  powerful  as  those  of  the 


DUKE  OF  BRUNSWICK  VISITS  SPAIN. 


325 


pope.  If  tliey  have  the  majority  iu  the  diet,  it  is  easy 
to  divine  what  the  ecclesiastical  states  have  to  expect. 
Now,  then,  or  never !  The  question  is  no  longer 
merely  the  refutation  of  a  heresy, — a  powerful  party 
must  be  combated.  Other  victories  than  those  of  Dr. 
Eck  must  now  save  Christendom. 

Decisive  measures  liad  already  been  taken.  Tlie 
metropolitan  chapter  of  the  primary  church  of  Mcntz 
had  convened  a  meeting  of  all  its  suffragans,  and 
decided  on  sending  a  deputation  to  the  emperor  and 
the  pope,  to  ask  thcni  to  save  the  Cliurch. 

At  the  same  time  Duke  George  of  Saxonj',  Duke 
Henry  of  Uruuswick,  and  tlie  Cardinal-elector  Albert, 
had  met  at  Ilallc,  and  liad  also  resolved  to  address 
Charles  V.  '•  The  detestable  doctrine  of  Luther,"  said 
liiey,  "  makes  rapid  progress.  Every  day  attempts  arc 
made  to  gain  even  us;  and  when  gentle  means  fail, 
attempts  are  made  to  compel  us  by  stirring  up  our 
subjects.  AVe  invoke  the  a.ssistance  of  the  emperor." 
Accordingly,  after  tlie  conference,  Brunswick  himself 
set  out  for  Spain  to  decide  Charles. 

He  could  not  have  arrived  at  a  more  favourable 
moment.  The  emperor  had  just  concluded  with  I'^ranci-^ 
the  famous  treaty  of  Madrid  ;  and  as  he  seemed  to  lia\  e 
nothing  to  fear  in  that  quarter,  his  eyes  were  now 
turned  wholly  to  Germany.  Francis  I.  had  offered  to 
pay  half  the  expenses  of  the  war,  whether  against  the 
heretics  or  against  the  Turks. 

The  emperor  was  at  Seville,  on  the  eve  of  marriage 
with  a  princess  of  Portugal,  and  the  banks  of  the 
Guadalquiver  were  re-echoing  with  the  sound  ot  festi- 
vities. A  brilliant  nobility,  and  immense  crowds  ot 
people,  thronged  the  ancient  capital  of  the  Moor-. 
ITnder  the  arches  of  the  magnificent  cathedral  wa- 
displayed  all  the  pomp  of  the  Church.  A  papal  legate 
ofliciated ;  and  never,  even  in  the  days  of  the  Arabs, 
had  Andalusia  seen  a  more  splendid  and  imposing 
ceremony. 

This  was  the  time  when  Henry  of  Brunswick  arrived 
from  Germany,  and  besought  Chares  V.  to  save  the 
Church  and  the  empire,  which  were  now  attacked  by 
the  monk  of  Wittemberg.  His  request  was  immedi- 
ately taken  into  consideration,  and  the  emperor  deter- 
mined on  decisive  measures. 

On  the  25th  March,  1526,  he  wrote  to  several  of  the 
princes  and  towns  which  adhered  to  Rome ;  and  at  the 
same  time  gave  the  Duke  of  Brunswick  a  special  com- 
mission to  say  to  them,  that  with  deep  grief  he  had 
learned  that  the  continual  progress  of  Luther's  heresy 
was  threatening  to  fill  Germany  with  sacrilege,  devas- 
tation, and  blood ;  that,  on  the  other  hand,  he  had 
extreme  pleasure  iu  seeing  the  fidelity  of  the  great 
majority  of  the  states;  that,  neglecting  every  other 
affair,  he  was  going  to  quit  Spain,  and  repair  to  Rome 
to  make  aiTangements  with  the  pope,  and  thenceforth 
return  to  Germany,  to  combat  the  detestable  pest  of 
AVittemberg ;  that  as  to  themselves  they  ought  to 
adhere  stedfastly  to  their  faith ;  and  if  the  Lutherans 
sought  to  draw  them  into  error  by  stratagem  or  force, 
they  should  enter  into  close  union  with  each  other,  and 
resist  boldly;  that  he  would  shortly  arrive  and  support 
them  with  all  his  authority. 

On  the  return  of  Brunswick  to  Germany,  the  Catho- 


lic party  were  overjoyed,  and  proudly  lifted  their 
heads.  The  Dukes  of  Brunswick  and  Pomerania, 
Albert  of  Mecklenburg,  John  of  Juliers,  George  of 
Saxony,  the  Dukes  of  Bavaria,  and  all  the  ecclesiastical 
I)i-inccs,  thouglit  themselves  siu-e  of  victory  after  they 
read  the  threatening  letters  of  the  conqueror  of 
Francis  I.  Tiu'y  would  repair  to  the  approaching 
diet ;  they  would  humble  the  heretical  princes ;  and  if 
they  did  not  otherwise  submit,  would  compel  them  by 
the  sword.  Duke  George  is  confidently  affirmed  to 
have  said :  "  I  may  be  Elector  of  Saxony  whenever  I 
please;"  an  expression  to  which  it  was  afterwards 
attempted  to  give  a  different  turn.  One  day  the 
duke's  chancellor  said  at  Torgau,  with  an  air  of 
triumph:  "Luther's  cause  cannot  hold  out  long;  it  had 
better  be  Innki 


Luther,  in  fact,  did  look  to  it,  but  not  in  the  sense 
thus  implied  ;-he  attentively  followed  the  designs  of  the 
enemies  of  the  AVord  of  God,  and  thought,  as  well  as 
Melancthou,  that  he  would  soon  see  thousands  of 
swords  drawn  against  the  Gospel.  But  he  sought  his 
strength  in  a  higher  source  than  man.  "  Satan," 
wrote  he  to  Frederick  Mycouius,  "is  giving  full  vent 
to  his  fury;  wicked  pontiffs  are  conspiring  and  threat- 
ening us  with  war.  Exhort  the  people  to  fight 
valiantly  before  the  throne  of  God  by  faith  and 
prayer,  so  that  our  enemies,  being  overcome  by  the 
Spirit  of  God,  may  be  compelled  to  make  peace.  The 
first  want,  the  first  work,  is  prayer;  let  the  people  know 
that  they  arc  now  exposed  to  the  edge  of  the  sword 
and  the  fury  of  the  devil,  and  let  them  pray." 

Thus  every  preparation  was  made  for  a  decisive 
combat.  The  Reformation  had  on  its  side  the  prayers 
of  Christians,  the  sympathies  of  the  people,  and  the 
rising  influence  of  mind,  which  no  power  could  arrest. 
The  papacy  had  iu  its  favour  the  ancient  order  of 
things,  the  power  of  ancient  custom,  the  zeal  and 
hatred  of  formidable  princes,  and  the  power  of  that 
great  emperor  whose  dominion  extended  over  two 
worlds,  and  who  had  just  given  so  rude  a  check  to 
the  glory  of  Francis  I. 

Such  was  the  posture  of  affairs  at  the  opening  of  the 
diet  at  Spires.     At  present  we  return  to  Switzerland. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


BOOK     XI. 


DIVISION,   SWITZERLAND,    GEKMjVNY. — 1523-1527. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Unity  in  Diversify— rrimitive  F;iitli  and  Liberty— Fonnation  of  Roman 
Unity — A  Monk  and  Leo  Juda — Tlieses  of  Zwingle— The  Discussion  of 
January. 

"We  are  going  to  see  the  diversities,  or,  as  tlioy  have 
beeu  called,  the  variations  of  the  Reformatiou.  These 
form  one  of  its  most  essential  features. 

Unity  in  diversity,  and  diversity  iu  unity,  is  the  law 
of  nature,  and  also  the  law  of  the  Church. 

Truth  is  like  the  light  of  the  sun.  The  light,  as  it 
descends  from  heaven,  is  always  one  and  the  same ;  and 
yet  it  assumes  different  colours  on  the  earth,  according 
to  the  objects  on  which  it  falls.  In  the  same  manner, 
expressions  which  differ  somewhat  from  each  other, 
may  sometimes  express  the  same  Christian  idea,  con- 
templated under  different  points  of  view. 

How  dull  should  creation  be  were  this  immense 
variety  of  forms  and  colours,  which  constitute  its 
riches,  replaced  by  an  absolute  uniformity!  In  like 
manner,  how  desolate  the  appearance,  if  all  created 
teings  formed  only  a  single  magnificent  unity! 

Divine  unity  has  its  rights ;  human  diversity  has  its 
rights  also.  It  is  not  necessar'y  in  religion  to  annihilate 
cither  God  or  man.  If  you  have  no  unity,  your  reli- 
gion is  not  of  God ;  if  you  have  no  diversity,  it  is  not 
of  man.  Now,  it  ought  to  be  of  botii.  Would  you 
erase  from  the  creation  one  of  the  laws  wliich  God  has 
imposed  upon  it, — viz.,  that  of  an  immense  diversity? 
Even  things  ivithout  life,  says  St.  Paul,  ivhether  2'ipe  or 
harp,  except  theij  give  a  distinction  in  the  sounds,  how 
shall  it  be  knoicn  ivhat  is  piped  or  harped?  (1  Cor.  xiv.  7.) 
But  if  there  is  in  religious  things  a  diversity,  caused 
by  tlie  difference  of  inilividuality,  and  which,  conse- 
quently, must  exist  even  in  heaven,  a  diversity  there 
is  which  has  been  caused  by  the  fall  of  man,  and  is  a 
serious  calamity. 

There  are  two  tendencies  which  equally  lead  to 
error.  The  former  exaggerates  the  diversity,  and  the 
latter  the  unity.  The  doctrines  esseatial  to  salvation 
form  the  boundary  between  these  two  du-ections.  To 
exact  more  than  these  doctrines,  is  to  infringe  on  the 
diversity — to  exact  less,  is  to  infringe  on  the  unity. 

The  latter  excess  is  that  of  rash  and  rebellious 
spirits,  who  turn  away  from  Jesus  Christ,  to  form 
human  systems  and  doctrines. 

The  former  exists  in  various  exclusive  sects,  and,  iu 
particular,  in  that  of  Rome. 

The  Cliurch  should  reject  error.  Did  she  not  do  so 
Christianity  could  not  be  maintained.  But  were  we 
to  push  this  idea  to  an  extreme,  the  result  would  be, 
that  the  Church  would  require  to  oppose  the  smallest 
deviation,  and  involve  herself  iu  disputes  about  words. 


Faitli  would  be  swaddled,  and  Christian  sentiment 
brought  into  bondage.  Such  was  not  the  condition  of 
the  Church  in  the  days  of  true  Catholicism — I  mean  i 
the  first  centuries.  It  rejected  the  sectaries  who 
assailed  the  fundamental  truths  of  the  Gospel ;  but 
these  truths  admitted,  it  left  faith  at  full  liberty. 
Rome  soon  abandoned  these  wise  limits,  and  in  propor- 
tion as  a  domination  and  doctrine  of  man  was  formed 
iu  the  Church,  there  arose  also  a  unity  of  man. 

A  human  system  being  once  invented,  its  rigour 
increased  from  age  to  age.  Christian  liberty,  which 
had  been  respected  by  the  Catholicism  of  the  first  ages, 
was  first  limited,  then  chained,  then  stifled.  Con- 
viction, which,  according  to  the  laws  of  human  nature 
aud  the  Word  of  God,  ought  to  be  formed  freely  in 
the  heart  and  the  understanding  of  man,  was  imposed 
e.-vtemally,  as  fully  formed  and  symmetrically  arranged 
by  his  masters.  Reflection,  will,  sentiment,  all  the 
faculties  of  the  human  mind,  which,  in  due  subordina- 
tion to  the  Word  and  the  Spirit  of  God,  ought  to  labour 
and  produce  freely,  were  abridged  in  their  liberty,  and 
compelled  to  expand  in  forms  previously  determined. 
The  spirit  of  man  became  like  a  mirror,  on  which 
foreign  objects  are  represented,  but  which  possesses 
nothing  of  its  own.  Doubtless  there  still  were  souls 
taught  directly  by  God.  But  the  great  majority  of 
Christians  had  thenceforth  only  the  convictions  of 
others ;  a  faith  properly  belonging  to  the  individual 
became  a  rarity.  The  Reformation  alone  restored  this 
treasure  to  the  Church. 

Still  there  was  for  sometime  a  space  within  which 
the  human  mind  was  allowed  to  range  certain  opinions 
which  it  might  admit  or  reject  at  pleasure.  But,  as  a 
besieging  army,  always  drawing  closer  and  closer 
around  the  town,  does  not  allow  the  gan'ison  to  stir 
beyond  the  precincts  of  the  walls,  and  at  length  obliges 
it  to  surrender;  in  the  same  way  was  the  hierarchy 
seen,  in  every  age,  and  almost  every  year,  abridging  the 
space  which  it  had  granted  provisionally  to  the  human 
mind,  until,  at  length,  the  space  was  entirely  en- 
croached upon,  and  ceased  to  exist.  Everything  that 
Avas  to  be  believed,  loved,  or  done,  was  regulated  and 
fixed  in  the  bureaus  of  the  Roman  chancery.  The 
faithful  were  relieved  from  the  trouble  of  examining, 
thinking,  and  wrestling ;  they  had  only  to  repeat  the 
formula  which  they  had  been  taught. 

From  that  time,  if  there  appeared  in  the  bosom  of 
Roman  Catholicism  any  man  who  inherited  the  Catho- 
licism of  the  apostolic  times,  that  man,  incapable  of 
exj)andiug  within  the  limits  to  which  he  had  been  con- 
fined, behoved  to  overleap  them,  and  shew  anew  to  the 
astonished  world  the  lofty  flight  of  the  Christian,  who 
acknowledges  no  law  save  that  of  God. 

The  Reformation,  thou,  in  restoring  liberty  to  the 


DISCUSSION  AT  ZURICH. 


327 


Churcli,  behoved  to  restore  to  licr  her  original  diversity, 
and  people  her  with  families,  united  by  tlic  great 
features  of  resemblance  which  they  derive  from  tlieir 
common  head ;  but  differing  in  secondary  features,  and 
bespeaking  the  inherent  varieties  of  Innnan  nature.  It 
were,  porliaps,  to  be  desired  that  this  diversity  could 
subsist  in  the  universal  Church  without  producing 
sects.  Still,  it  ought  to  be  remembered,  that  sects  arc 
'      only  the  cxprcsMon  of  this  diversity. 

Switzerhind  and  Germany,  which  till  now  had  been 
developed  independently  of  each  other,  came  into  con- 
tact at  the  period  the  history  of  which  we  are  now  to 
I      trace,   and   exemplified    this    diversity  which    was   to 
j      become  one  of  the  characteristic  features  of  Protest- 
antism.    AVc  shall  sec  men  perfectly  agreed  on  all  the 
'      great  points  of  faith,  differing,  however,  on  secondary 
I      questions.     No  doubt,  passion  mingled  in   these   dis- 
I      cussions ;  but  while  deploring  this  sad  mixture,  Pro- 
1      testantism,  far  from  disguising  the  diversity,  acknow- 
!      ledges  and  proclaims  it.     The  path  by  which  she  leads 
I      to  unity  is  long  and  difficult ;  but  her  unity  is  real. 

Z^-ingle  was  making  progress  in  the  Christian  life. 
While  the  Gospel  had  delivered  Luther  from  the  pro- 
found melancholy  to  wliich  he  had  formerly  abandoned 
himself  in  the  convent  of  Erfurt,  and  given  him  a 
serenity  which  often  assumed  the  form  of  joyfulness, 
and  of  which  the  reformer  thenceforth  gave  numerous 
proofs,  even  in  the  face  of  the  greatest  dangers ;  Chris- 
tianity had  had  quite  a  contrary  effect  on  the  joyous 
child  of  the  mountains  of  Tockenburg.  Withdrawing 
Zwinglc  from  his  volatile  and  worldly  life,  it  impressed 
a  gravity  on  his  character  that  wiis  not  natural  to  it. 
This  serious  turn  was  very  necessary.  Wo  have  seen 
how,  towards  the  end  of  1522,  numerous  enemies 
seemed  to  riso  up  against  the  Reformation.  Zwingle 
was  everywhere  loaded  with  invectives,  and  disputes 
often  took  place,  even  in  churches. 

Leo  Judn,  small  in  stature,  says  a  biographer,  but 
full  of  charity  for  the  poor,  and  of  zeal  against  false 
teachers,  had  arrived  at  Zurich  towards  the  end  of 
1522,  to  discharge  the  office  of  pastor  of  the  church 
of  St.  Peter,  having  been  succeeded  at  Einsidlen  by 
Oswald  Myconius.  He  was  a  valuable  acquisition  to 
Zwingle  and  the  Reformation. 

One  day,  shortly  after  his  arrival,  ho  heard  an 
Augustine  monk,  iu  the  church  to  which  he  had  been 
called  to  be  pastor,  vehemently  preaching  that  man  is 
able  of  himself  to  satisfy  the  justice  of  God.  "  Rever- 
end father  prior,"  exclaimed  Leo,  "  listen  for  an  instant, 
and  you,  dear  citizens,  keep  quiet;  I  will  speak  as 
becomes  a  Christian."  He  then  proved  to  the  people 
the  unsoundness  of  the  doctrine  which  they  had  just 
heard.  There  was  great  agitation  in  the  church,  and 
several  forthwith  angrily  assailed  the  '"little  priest" 
who  had  come  from  Einsidlen.  Zwingle  appeared 
before  the  great  council,  desiring  to  give  an  account  of 
his  doctrine  in  presence  of  the  deputies  of  the  bishop  ; 
and  the  council,  in  their  desire  to  see  an  end  put  to 
these  dissensions,  summoned  a  conference  for  the  29th 
January,  1523.  The  news  quickly  spread  over  Swit- 
zer'land.  "  There  is  going  to  be  a  diet  of  vagabonds 
at  Zurich,"  said  the  adversaries  spitefully;  "all  the 
footpads  will  be  there." 

Zwingle,  preparatory  to  the  conlcst,  published  sixty- 


seven  theses.  Openly,  in  the  eyes  of  all  Switzerland, 
the  mountaineer  of  Tockenburg  boldly  attacked  the 
pope. 

"All,"  said  he,  "who  maintain  that  the  Gospel  is 
nothing  without  the  coufirmatiou  of  the  Church,  blas- 
pheme God. 

"Tiic  only  way  of  salvation  to  all  men  who  have 
been,  are,  or  are  to  be,  is  Jesus  Christ. 

"All  Cliristians  arc  the  brethren  of  Christ,  and 
brethren  of  each  othei-,  and  they  have  no  fathers  on 
the  earth  ;  thus,  orders,  sects,  and  parties  fall. 

"  No  constraint  should  be  laid  on  those  who  do  not 
acknowledge  their  error,  provided  they  do  not,  by 
seditious  conduct,  disturb  the  peace." 

Such  were  some  of  tlio  theses  of  Zwingle. 

On  the  morning  of  Thursday,  the  29th  of  January, 
more  than  six  hundred  persons  met  in  the  hall  of 
the  great  council  at  Zurich.  Citizens  and  strangers, 
learned  men,  persons  of  distinction,  and  ecclesiastics, 
had  responded  to  the  call  of  the  council.  "  What,"  it 
was  asked,  "is  to  be  the  result  of  all  this?"  Nobody 
dared  to  answer ;  but  the  attention,  excitement,  and 
agitation,  of  the  assembly,  shewed  plainly  that  great 
things  were  expected. 

Bm-goraaster  Roust,  who  had  fought  at  Marignan, 
presided.  The  chevalier  James  of  Anwyl,  grand- 
master of  the  episcopal  court  of  Constance,  Faber  the 
vicar-general,  and  several  doctors,  represented  the 
bishop.  Schaffliausen  had  sent  Doctor  Sebastian  Hof- 
raeister;  he  was  the  only  deputy  from  the  cantons  so 
long  as  the  Reformation  was  in  its  infancy  in  Switzer- 
land. On  a  table,  in  the  middle  of  the  hall,  was  the 
Bible,  and  beside  it  stood  a  teacher.  This  was  Zwingle. 
"  I  am  agitated  and  tormented  on  all  sides,"  he  had 
said  ;  "  but  still  I  remain  firm,  leaning  not  on  my  own 
strength,  but  on  the  rock,  which  is  Christ,  through 
whose  aid  I  can  do  all  things." 

Zwingle  arose.  "  I  have  preached,"  said  he,  "  that 
salvation  is  found  only  in  Jesus  Christ ;  and  for  this 
I  am  stigmatized  throughout  Switzerland  as  a  heretic, 
a  seducer,  a  rebel.  .  .  .  Now,  then,  in  the  name 
of  God,  here  I  am  to  answer."     ,     .     . 

AU  eyes  now  turned  towards  Faber,  who  rose  and 
replied :  "  I  was  not  sent  here  to  debate,  but  only  to 
listen."  The  assembly,  in  surprise,  began  to  laugh. 
'•  The  Diet  of  Nuremberg,"  continued  Faber,  "  has  pro- 
mised a  council  iu  a  year ;  we  should  wait  for  it." 

"  What !"  said  Zwingle,  "  is  not  this  great  and 
learned  assembly  as  good  as  a  council  f  Then  address- 
ing the  councillors,  he  said :  "  Gracious  lords,  defend 
the  Word  of  God." 

Profound  silence  followed  this  appeal;  after  some 
time  it  was  broken  by  the  burgomaster.  "  If  any  one 
has  anything  to  say,"  said  he,  "  let  him  do  so."  There 
was  again  silence.  Zwingle  then  said :  "  I  implore  all 
my  accusers  (and  I  know  there  are  several  of  them 
here)  to  come  forward,  and  for  the  love  of  truth,  shew 
wherein  I  deserve  blame."  Nobody  said  a  word. 
Zwingle  renewed  his  demand  a  second  and  third  time  : 
it  was  iu  vain.  Faber  being  close  pressed,  for  a 
moment  forgot  the  reserve  which  ho  had  imposed  on 
himself,  to  declare  that  the  pastor  of  Filispach,  who 
was  detained  in  prison,  had  been  convinced  by  him  of 
his  error ;  but  he  immediately  became  reserved  as  be- 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


fore.  In  vain  was  he  urged  to  explain  the  reasons  by 
which  he  had  convinced  the  pastor.  He  was  obsti- 
nately silent.  The  spectators,  becoming  impatient  at 
the  silence  of  the  Roman  doctors,  a  voice  was  heard 
from  the  bottom  of  the  hall,  exclaiming :  "  Where  are 
now  those  valiant  men  who  speak  so  loud  in  the 
streets  ?  Ho  !  come  forward,  here  is  your  man  !"  No- 
body presented  himself.  Then  the  burgomaster  said, 
with  a  smile :  "  It  seems,  that  the  famous  sword  which 
smote  the  pastor  of  Filispach  is  not  to  come  out  of  its 
scabbard  to-day."     So  saying,  he  adjourned  the  meeting. 

In  the  afternoon,  when  the  assembly  again  met,  the 
council  declared,  that  Master  Ulrich  Zwingle,  not  hav- 
ing been  censured  by  any  one,  should  continue  to 
preach  the  holy  Gospel,  and  that  all  the  other  priests 
of  the  canton  should  teach  only  what  they  could  estab- 
lish by  the  holy  Scriptures. 

"God  be  praised!"  exclaimed  Zwingle,  "who  is 
pleased  that  His  holy  Word  should  reigu  in  heaven  and 
on  the  earth."  Faber  could  not  now  restrain  his 
indignation.  "  The  theses  of  blaster  Ulrich,"  said  he, 
"are  contrary  to  the  honour  of  the  Church  and  the 
doctrine  of  Christ,  and  I  will  prove  it."  "Do  so," 
exclaimed  Zwingle.  But  Faber  refused  to  do  it  any- 
where but  at  Paris,  Cologne,  or  Friburg.  "I  won't 
have  any  other  judge  than  the  Gospel,"  said  Zwingle ; 
"  sooner  will  the  earth  open  than  you  succeed  in  shak- 
ing a  single  word  contained  in  it."  "The  Gospel," 
said  Faber,  "  always  the  Gospel !  .  .  .  AVe  could 
live  holily  in  peace  and  charity  even  though  there  were 
no  Gospel." 

At  these  words  the  audience  rose  up  in  indignation, 
and  the  discussion  closed. 


CHAPTER  II. 

Caiesscs  of  the  Pope— PrOj^iess  of  the  Reformation— The  Image  of  Stadel- 
hofen— Sacrilege— The  Ornaments  of  the  Saints. 

The  Reformation,  having  gained  the  day,  was  now  to 
hasten  its  conquests.  After  this  conflict  of  Zurich, 
where  the  ablest  champions  of  the  papacy  had  remained 
mute,  who  would  have  the  courage  to  oppose  the  new 
doctrine?  Meanwhile,  other  weapons  were  tried. 
The  firmness  of  Zwingle,  and  his  republican  leanings, 
misled  his  enemies,  and  hence  special  methods  were 
employed  for  the  purpose  of  overcoming  him.  While 
Rome  was  pursuing  Luther  with  her  anathemas,  she 
endeavoured  to  gain  the  reformer  of  Zurich  by  gentle 
methods.  Scarcely  had  the  discussion  closed,  when 
Zwingle  was  visited  by  the  son  of  burgomaster  Roust, 
the  captain  of  the  pope's  guards,  accompanied  by  the 
legate  Einsius,  who  had  in  charge  for  him  a  pontifical 
brief,  in  which  Adrian  VI.  called  Zwingle  his  well- 
beloved  son,  and  acquamted  him  with  "  his  very  parti- 
cular regard."  At  the  same  time  the  pope  made  Zink 
be  pressed  to  gain  Zwingle.  "  What,  then,  does  the 
pope  commission  you  to  offer?"  asked  Oswald  Myconius. 
"  Everything,"  replied  Zink,  "  except  the  pontifical  see." 
There  was  no  mitre  and  crozier,  no  cardinal's  hat, 


that  the  pope  would  not  have  given  to  gain  the  reformer 
of  Zurich.  But  in  regard  to  him  Rome  was  under 
strange  illusions.  All  her  offers  were  unavailing. 
The  Romish  Church  had  a  more  inveterate  enemy  in 
Zwingle  than  in  Luther.  He  cared  less  than  Luther 
did  for  the  ideas  and  rites  of  former  ages.  To  provoke 
his  attack  upon  any  custom  innocent  in  itself,  it  was 
enough  that  it  was  attached  to  some  abuse.  The  Word 
of  God,  he  thought,  was  alone  entitled  to  stand. 

But  if  Rome  so  little  understood  what  was  taking 
place  in  Christendom,  she  had  councillors  who  tried  to 
coiTect  her  mistake. 

Faber,  irritated  at  seeing  the  pope  thus  humbling 
himself  before  his  adversary,  hastened  to  enlighten  him. 
A  courtier,  who  had  always  a  smile  upon  his  lips  and 
honied  words  in  his  mouth,  Faber  was,  by  his  own 
account,  the  friend  of  everybody,  even  of  those  whom 
he  was  accusing  of  heresy.  But  his  hatred  was  mortal. 
Hence  the  reformer,  playing  on  the  word  Faber,  said  : 
"  The  vicar  of  Constance  is  a  fabricator  ...  of 
lies.  Let  him  openly  proceed  to  arms,  and  see  how 
Christ  defends  us." 

These  words  were  not  a  vain  bravado ;  for  while  the 
pope  was  speaking  to  Zwingle  of  his  eminent  virtues, 
and  of  the  particular  confidence  which  he  had  in  him, 
the  enemies  of  the  reformer  were  multiplying  in  Swit- 
zerland. Veteran  soldiers,  leading  families,  and  moun- 
tain shepherds,  were  uniting  in  their  hatred  against 
this  doctrine,  which  was  at  variance  with  their  tastes. 
At  Lucerne  a  pompous  spectacle  was  announced  under 
the  name  of  The  Passion  of  Zwingle.  A  dwarf,  meant 
to  represent  the  reformer,  was  dragged  to  execution, 
crying  that  they  were  going  to  put  the  heretic  to 
death.  Laying  hold  of  some  Zurichers  who  were  at 
Lucerne,  they  obliged  them  to  be  spectators  of  this 
ridiculous  e.xhibition.  "They  will  not  disturb  my 
peace,"  said  Zwingle.  "  Christ  will  never  be  wanting 
to  His  people."  The  diet  itself  resounded  with  menaces 
against  him.  "  Dear  confederates,"  said  councillor 
MuUinen  to  the  cantons,  "  oppose  the  Lutheran  cause 
in  time.  ...  At  Zurich  a  man  is  no  longer  a 
master  in  his  own  house." 

This  agitation  of  the  adversary  announced  what  was 
taking  place  in  Zurich  still  better  than  any  proclama- 
tions could  have  done.  In  fact  the  victory  was  yield- 
ing its  proper  fruit ;  the  conquerors  gradually  took 
possession  of  the  country,  and  the  Gospel  daily  made 
new  progress.  Twenty-four  canons,  and  a  great  num- 
ber of  chaplains,  came,  of  their  own  accord,  to  the 
council,  to  demand  a  reform  of  their  statutes.  It  was 
resolved  to  supply  the  place  of  these  idle  priests  by 
pious  and  learned  men,  commissioned  to  give  the  youth 
of  Zurich  a  Christian  and  liberal  education;  and  to 
establish,  instead  of  theii-  Latin  vespers  and  masses,  a 
daily  exposition  of  a  chapter  of  the  Bible  according  to 
the  Hebrew  and  Greek  text,  first  for  the  learned,  and 
then  immediately  after  for  the  people. 

All  armies  unfortunately  contain  blundering  recruits, 
who  detach  themselves  from  the  main  body,  and  pre- 
maturely attack  some  point  which  ought  for  the  time 
to  have  been  left  untouched.  A  young  priest,  named 
Louis  Kctzer,  having  published  in  Germany  a  treatise, 
entitled,  "  The  Judgment  of  God  against  Images,"  a 
strong  impression  was  produced,  and  images  became 


THE  CRUCIFIX  OF  STADELHOFEN. 


the  constant  dislike  of  a  portion  of  the  population. 
When  a  man  allows  his  attention  to  be  engrossed  by 
secondary  matters,  it  is  always  to  the  detriment  of 
more  essential  matters.  A  crucifix,  carefully  sculp- 
tured and  richly  adorned,  had  been  placed  on  the  out- 
side of  one  of  the  gates  of  the  town,  at  the  place  called 
Stadelhofen.  The  most  ardent  [jartisans  of  the  Refor- 
mation, shocked  at  the  superstition  to  which  this  image 
gave  occasion,  were  unable  to  pass  it  without  express- 
ing their  indignation.  A  citizen  named  Claud  Ilot- 
tingcr,  ''  a  worthy  man,"  says  Bulliiigei-,  "  and  well 
read  in  the  Scriptures,"  having  met  the  miller  of  Stadel- 
hofen, to  whom  the  crucifix  belonged,  asked  when  he 
meant  to  pull  down  his  idols.  "Nobody  obliges  you 
to  woi-ship  them,"  replied  the  miller.  "  But  do  you 
not  know,"  resumed  Hottiuger,  "  that  the  Word  of 
God  forbids  us  to  have  graven  images .'" — "  Very 
well,"  replied  the  miller,  "  if  you  are  authorized  to 
pull  them  down,  I  abandon  them  to  you."  Ilottinger 
thought  himself  entitled  to  act,  and  shortly  after,  about 
the  end  of  September,  he  set  forth  from  the  town  with 
a  number  of  citizens.  On  arriving  at  the  crucifix,  they 
quietly  dug  all  around  it  until  the  image  yielded  to  their 
efforts,  and  fell  to  the  ground  with  a  loud  noise. 

This  bold  action  spread  general  alarm ;  one  would 
have  said,  that  with  the  crucifix  of  Stadelhofen  reli- 
gion itself  had  been  overthrown.  "  These  men  are 
blasphemers !  They  are  worthy  of  death  !"  exclaimed 
the  friends  of  Rome.  The  council  caused  the  icono- 
clast burghers  to  be  apprehended. 

"No,"  said  Zwingle  and  his  colleagues  from  the 
pulpit ;  "  Hottiuger  and  his  friends  are  not  guilty  be- 
fore God,  or  worthy  of  death.  But  they  may  be 
punished  for  having  acted  with  violence,  and  without 
the  authority  of  the  magistrates." 

IMcanwhiie  similar  acts  were  repeated.  One  day  a 
>  icar  of  the  church  of  St.  Peter,  seeing  a  number  of 
poor  people  before  the  church  without  food  and  cloth- 
ing, said  to  one  of  his  colleagues,  turning  towards 
some  of  the  pompously  decked  images :  "  I  would 
willingly  strip  these  wooden  idols  in  order  to  clothe 
these  poor  members  of  Jesus  Christ."  A  few  days 
after,  at  three  in  the  morning,  the  saints,  and  all  their 
ornament.s,  disappeared.  The  council  ordered  the 
vicar  to  be  imprisoned,  though  he  declared  that  he 
was  not  the  guilty  party.  "  What !"  said  the  people, 
'•  was  it  hits  of  wood  our  Saviour  ordered  us  to  clothe  ? 
Is  it  on  account  of  these  images  He  will  say  to  us,  I  teas 
md-ed,  and  ye  clothed  me?"  Thus  the  Reformation,  when 
discountenanced,  became  only  the  more  powerful.  The 
more  it  was  curbed  the  more  violently  it  sprang  for- 
ward, threatening  to  bear  down  its  opposition. 


CHAPTER  III. 

:  wiiglconthc  Church— Tlio  Church— First  Out- 

-Discussion  on  tlie  M.nsa- Enthusiasts— A 

\— A  Cli.ii'acteristic  of  Ihc  Swiss  Reformation 

. :  -ilyconius  at  Zurich— The  Revival  of  letters— 


Tliuuiai  riatci  uf  tlic  Va 


Even  these  excesses  were  to  prove  salutary.     A  new 
combat  waa  necessary  in  order  to  secure  new  triumphs ; 


for  it  is  equally  true  in  mental  as  in  worldly  affairs, 
that  there  is  no  conquest  without  a  struggle.  Since 
the  soldiers  of  Rome  remained  motionless,  the  combat 
wiis  to  be  provoked  by  rash  sons  of  the  Reformation. 
In  fact  the  magistrates  were  uncertain  and  at  a  loss 
how  to  act.  They  felt  that  their  conscience  required  to 
be  cnlightonc<l ;  and  with  this  view  they  resolved  to 
institute  a  >.-,  011,1  pulili,-  .li-ni-Moii  in  German,  when 
the  questidii  nf  iini-.  -  -h.iuM  1..-  tried  by  Scripture. 

The  Bishiips  of  t'uiii',  Cuu.-tance,  and  Bale,  the 
university  of  Bale,  antl  the  twelve  cantons,  were  in 
consequence  invited  to  send  deputies  to  Zurich.  The 
bishops  refused  the  invitation.  Remembering  the  sad 
figure  their  deputies  had  made  at  the  previous  discus- 
sion, they  had  no  wish  to  renew  these  humiliating 
scenes.  Let  the  evangelicals  dispute  if  they  will ;  but 
leave  them  to  do  it  by  themselves.  The  first  time  we 
wore  silent — the  second  we  wont  even  appear.  Rome, 
perhaps,  imagined  that  there  would  be  no  combat  from 
want  of  combatants.  The  bishops  were  not  singular 
in  refusing  to  come.  The  men  of  Undorwalden  replied 
that  they  had  no  learned  men  among  them,  but  merely 
honest  and  pious  priests,  who  explained  the  Gospel 
as  their  fathers  had  done,  and  therefore  they  would 
not  send  any  deputy  to  Zwingle,  "  and  the  like  of  him  ;" 
but  that,  if  they  had  him  in  their  clutches,  they  would 
handle  him  in  a  way  which  would  leave  him  no  desire 
to  repeat  the  same  faults.  Schaffhauseu  and  St.  Gall 
alone  sent  representatives. 

On  Monday,  2Gth  October,  after  sermon,  an  assembly 
of  more  than  nine  hundred  persons,  consisting  of  mem- 
bers of  the  grand  council,  and  three  hundred  and  fifty 
priests,  filled  the  large  hall  of  the  town-house.  Zwingle 
and  Leo  Juda  were  seated  at  a  table  on  which  lay  the 
Old  and  Now  Testament  iu  the  original  tongues. 
Zwingle  first  spoke,  and,  demolishing  the  authoi'ity  of 
the  hierarchy  and  its  councils  with  a  vigorous  arm, 
established  the  riglits  of  every  Christian  church,  and 
claimed  the  liberty  of  the  primitive  ages — of  those 
times  when  the  Church  had  neither  ecumenical  nor 
provincial  councils.  "  The  Church  universal,"  said  he, 
"  is  diffused  over  the  whole  world,  wherever  there  is 
faith  in  Jesus  Christ,  in  the  Indies  as  well  as  at  Zurich. 
.  .  .  And,  as  to  particular  churches,  we  have  them 
at  Berne,  at  Schaffhausen — here  also.  But  the  popes, 
their  cardinals,  and  their  councils,  are  neither  the 
Church  universal  nor  the  Church  particular.  This 
assembly  which  I  now  address,"  he  continued  energeti- 
cally, "  is  the  church  of  Zurich ;  it  desires  to  hear  the 
Word  of  God,  and  it  is  entitled  to  enjoin  whatever  it 
deems  conformable  to  the  Holy  Scriptures." 

Thus  Zwingle  leant  upon  the  Church,  but  the  true 
Chm-ch  ;  not  on  priests  only,  but  on  the  congregation 
of  Christians — on  the  people.  All  that  Scripture  says 
of  the  Church  iu  general,  he  applied  to  particular 
chm-ches.  He  did  not  think  that  a  chiu'ch  listening 
with  docility  to  the  Word  of  God,  could  be  deceived. 
The  Church  he  regarded  as  politically  and  ecclesiasti- 
cally represented  by  the  great  council.  He  at  first 
discussed  each  question  in  the  pulpit,  and  then,  after 
men's  minils  were  convinced  of  the  truth,  he  laid  the 
matter  before  the  great  council,  who,  being  agreed  with 
the  ministers  of  the  Church,  adopted  the  decisions 
which  she  approved. 


330 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


lu  the  absence  of  deputies  from  tlie  bishop,  the 
defence  of  the  pope  was  undertaken  by  the  old  canon, 
Conrad  Hoffman,  who  had  been  the  means  of  calling 
Zwingle  to  Zurich.  He  maintained  that  the  Cliurch, 
the  flock,  "  the  third  estate,"  had  no  right  to  discuss 
such  matters.  "  I  was  thirteen  years  at  Heidelberg," 
said  he ;  "  I  lived  with  a  great  scholar,  called  Doctor 
Joss,  a  worthy  pious  man,  with  whom,  for  a  long  time, 
I  ate  and  drank,  and  lived  ou  familiar  terms;  but  he 
always  said  that  it  was  unbefitting  to  discuss  such 
subjects.  You  see  well !"  Everybody  was  ready  to 
laugh;  but  the  burgomaster  stopped  the  explosion. 
"  Thus,  then,"  continued  Hoffman.  "  let  us  wait  for  a 
council.  For  the  time  being,  I  have  no  wish  to  discuss, 
but  to  submit  to  the  bishop,  even  were  he  a  rogue !" 

"  Wait  for  a  council !"  replied  Zwingle.  "And  who 
will  attend  a  council?  The  pope  and  lazy  ignorant 
bishops,  who  will  do  nothing  of  their  own  accord. 
No ;  that  is  not  the  Church !  Hong  and  Kiissnacht 
(two  Zurich  villages)  are  much  more  certainly  a  Church 
than  all  the  bishops  and  popes  put  together !" 

Thus  Zwingle  claimed  the  restoration  of  the  rights 
of  the  Christian  people,  whom  Rome  had  disinherited  of 
their  privileges.  The  assembly  before  which  he  spoke 
was  not,  in  his  view,  the  church  of  Zurich ;  but  it  was 
its  primary  representative.  Wo  have  here  the  germs 
of  the  Presbyterian  system.  Zwingle  withdrew  Zurich 
from  the  jurisdiction  of  the  bishopric  of  Constance, 
detached  it  from  the  Latin  hierarcliy,  and  on  the  idea 
of  the  flock,  of  the  Christian  assembly,  founded  a  new 
ecclesiastical  constitution,  to  which  other  countries 
were  at  a  later  period  to  adhere. 

The  discussion  was  continued.  Several  priests  hav- 
ing risen  to  defend  images,  but  ■without  appealing  to 
tlie  Holy  Scriptures,  Zwingle  and  the  other  reformers 
employed  the  Scriptiu-es  in  refuting  them.  "  If  no  one 
rises,"  said  one  of  the  presidents,  "  to  give  Bible  argu- 
ments in  favour  of  images,  we  shall  call  upon  some  of 
their  defenders  by  name."  Nobody  coming  forward, 
he  called  upon  the  curate  of  Wadischwyl.  "He  is 
asleep,"  cried  one  of  the  audience.  The  curate  of 
Horgen  was  then  called  iipou.  "  He  sent  me  in  his 
stead,"  replied  his  vicar ;  "  but  I  don't  wish  to  answer 
for  him."  The  Word  of  God  gave  evident  tokens  of 
its  power  in  the  midst  of  this  assembly.  The  friends 
of  the  Reformation  were  full  of  power,  liberty,  and 
joy;  their  opponents  appeared  speechless,  uneasy, 
desponding.  In  succession  were  called  the  curates  of 
Laufen,  Glattfelden,  Wetzikon,  the  rector  and  curate 
of  Pfiiffikou,  the  dean  of  Elgg,  the  curate  of  Barctsch- 
wyl,  the  Dominican  and  Cordelier  friars,  who  were 
known  everywhere  to  preach  up  images,  the  Virgin, 
saints,  and  the  mass ;  but  all  answered  that  they  could 
not  say  anything  in  their  favour,  and  that  in  future 
they  would  apply  to  the  study  of  the  truth.  "  Hither- 
to," said  one  of  them,  "  I  have  believed  the  ancient, 
now  I  mean  to  believe  the  new  doctors."  "  It  is  not 
us  that  you  ought  to  believe,"  exclaimed  Zwingle ;  "  it 
is  the  Word  of  God.  The  Scriptures  alone  never 
deceive."  The  meeting  was  protracted,  and  night 
drew  on.  President  Ilofmeister  of  Schaffhausen  rose 
and  said :  "  Blessed  bo  the  Almighty  and  Eternal  God, 
who  giveth  us  the  victory  in  all  things."  He  then 
exhorted  the  councillors  of  Zurich  to  abolisU  images. 


Tlie  meeting  was  again  held  on  Tuesday,  under  the 
presidency  of  Vadian,  for  the  discussion  of  the  doc- 
trine of  the  mass.  "  Brethren  in  Christ,"  said  Zwingle, 
"  far  be  it  from  us  to  think  that  there  is  any  deception 
or  falsehood  in  the  blood  of  Christ.  Our  only  object 
is  to  shew  that  the  mass  is  not  a  sacrifice  which  one 
man  can  present  to  God  for  another  man,  unless, 
indeed,  it  can  be  shewn  that  a  man  can  eat  and  drink 
for  his  friend."  Vadian  having  asked,  on  two  several 
occasions,  if  any  of  those  present  were  ready  to  defend 
the  doctrine  which  was  impugned,  by  vScripture ;  and 
nobody  having  answered,  the  canons  of  Zurich,  the 
chaplains,  and  several  other  ecclesiastics,  declared  that 
they  agreed  with  Zwingle. 

But  no  sooner  had  the  reformers  thus  vanquished 
the  partisans  of  the  ancient  doctrines,  than  they  were 
compelled  to  struggle  against  those  impatient  men  who 
demand  sudden  and  violent  innovations,  instead  of  wise 
and  gradual  reforms.  The  unhappy  Conrad  Grebel 
rose  and  said :  "  It  is  not  enough  to  have  discussed  the 
mass — it  is  necessary  to  abolish  its  abuses." — "  The 
council,"  replied  Zwingle,  "  will  issue  a  decree  on  this 
subject."  Then  Simon  Stumpf  exclaimed:  "The 
Spirit  of  God  has  abeady  decided ! — why,  then,  remit 
it  to  the  council  for  decision  ?" 

Commander  Schmidt  of  Kiissnacht  rose  up  gravely 
and  uttered  words  full  of  wisdom.  "Let  us  teach 
Christians,"  said  he,  "to  receive  Christ  into  their 
hearts.  Till  this  hour  you  have  all  gone  after  idols. 
Those  of  the  plain  have  run  to  the  mountains,  and 
those  of  the  mountains  have  run  to  the  plain ;  the 
French  to  Germany,  and  the  Germans  to  France. 
Now  you  know  where  you  ought  to  go.  God  has 
united  all  things  in  Christ.  Noble  men  of  Zurich!  run 
to  the  true  source :  let  Jesus  Christ  again  enter  on 
your  territory,  and  resume  His  ancient  empire." 

This  addi-ess  made  a  deep  impression,  and  none  hav- 
ing appeared  to  contradict  it,  Zwingle,  under  deep 
emotion,  rose  and  said :  "  Gracious  lords,  God  is  with 
us !  ,  .  .  He  will  defend  His  cause.  Now,  then, 
.  .  .  in  the  name  of  God,  forward !"  .  ,  Here 
he  was  so  deeply  agitated  that  he  was  obliged  to  stop. 
He  wept,  and  many  wept  with  him. 

Thus  terminated  the  discussion.  The  presidents 
rose ;  the  burgomaster  thanked  them,  and  then  this  old 
warrior,  addressing  the  council,  said  gravely,  with  the 
voice  which  had  so  ofteu  been  heard  ou  the  battle- 
field :  "  Now,  then,  let  us  take  into  our  hands  the 
sword  of  the  Word  of  God,  .  .  .  and  may  God 
prosper  His  own  work." 

This  discussion  of  October,  1523,  had  been  decisive. 
The  greater  part  of  the  priests  who  had  been  present 
at  it,  returned  full  of  zeal  to  different  parts  of  the  can- 
ton, and  the  effect  of  these  days  was  felt  all  over 
Switzerland.  The  church  of  Zm-ich,  which  had  always 
been,  to  a  certain  degree,  independent  of  the  bishopric 
of  Constance,  was  now  fully  emancipated.  Instead  of 
resting  through  the  bishop,  on  the  pope,  it  henceforth 
rested  througli  the  people  on  the  Word  of  God.  Zurich 
resumed  the  rights  of  which  Rome  had  robbed  it.  Tlie 
town  and  the  country  rivalled  each  other  in  the  inte- 
rest tliey  felt  for  the  work  of  the  Reformation,  aud  the 
great  council  only  followed  the  movement  of  the  people. 
On  important  occasions  the  town  aud  villages  inti- 


THOMAS  PLATER  OF  THE  VALAIS. 


3.31 


mated  what  tlicir  views  were.  Luther  had  restored 
the  Bible  to  the  Christian  people.  Zwingle  went  far- 
ther, aiul  restored  their  riglits.  Tliis  is  a  characteristic 
feature  of  the  Keformatiou  iu  Switzerland.  It  con- 
lided  tlie  nuiiutenanco  of  sound  doctrine,  under  God,  to 
tiie  people;  and  recent  events  have  shewn  that  tlic 
l)eople  are  better  cnstodici-s  of  this  deposit  than  priests 
and  pontiffs'. 

Zwinglo  did  not  allow  himself  to  bo  inflated  by 
victor}-.  On  the  contrary,  the  Reformation  was  pro- 
ceeded witli,  by  his  desire,  with  great  moderation. 
AVhcn  tlie  council  asked  his  advice,  he  said:  "God 
knows  my  heart;  He  knows  that  I  am  disposed  to 
build  up,  and  not  to  pull  down.  I  know  timid  souls 
wlio  require  to  be  gently  dealt  with  ;  let  the  mass,  then, 
be  for  some  time  longer  read  iu  all  tlic  churclies  on 
Sunday,  and  let  care  be  taken  not  to  insult  those  who 
celebrate  it." 

The  council  issued  a  decree  to  this  effect.  ITottinger 
and  Ilochrutiner,  one  of  his  friends,  were  banished 
from  the  canton  for  two  years,  and  forbidden  to  return 
without  permission. 

At  Zin-ich  the  Reformation  followed  a  wise  aud 
Christian  course.  Exalting  this  city  higher  and  higher, 
it  made  it  glorious  in  the  eyes  of  all  the  friends  of  the 
Word  of  God.  Accordingly,  those  in  Switzerland  who 
had  hailed  the  new  day  which  was  rising  on  the  Church, 
felt  powerfully  attracted  toward  Zurich.  Oswald 
Jlyoonius,  driven  from  Lucerne,  had  remained  for  six 
months  in  the  valley  of  Einsidlcn,  when  one  day,  as  he 
>vas  returning  from  a  journey  to  Glaris,  worn  out 
with  heat  and  fatigue,  he  was  met  by  liis  son,  young 
Felix,  who  came  running  to  tell  him  tliat  he  was  called 
to  Zurich  to  direct  one  of  the  schools.  Oswald,  unable 
to  credit  the  good  news,  was  suspended  between  hope 
and  fear.  "  I  am  yours,"  he  at  last  wrote  to  Zwingle. 
Geroldsek  parted  with  him  with  regret,  wliilo  sad 
thoughts  filled  his  mind.  "Ah!"  said  he  to  him,  "all 
who  profess  Christ  go  away  to  Zurich ;  I  fear  that  we 
shall  one  day  all  perish  together," — a  mournful  pre- 
sentiment, which  the  death  of  Geroldsek  and  so  many 
other  friends  of  the  Gospel  was  to  realize  too  truly 
on  the  plains  of  Cappel. 

Myconius  at  last  found  a  safe  port  in  Zurich.  Ilis 
predecessor,  who,  from  his  stature,  had  been  nick- 
named at  Paris,  '•  the  great  devil,"  had  neglected  his 
duties ;  Oswald  devoted  all  his  powers  and  all  his 
heart  to  the  fulfilment  of  them.  Ho  explained  the 
Latin  and  Greek  classics,  aud  taught  rhetoric  aud 
logic,  while  the  youth  of  the  town  listened  to  him  with 
joy.  Myconius  was  to  be  to  the  young  what  Zwingle 
was  to  adults. 

Myconius  was  first  alarmed  at  the  advanced  scholars 
he  was  to  have ;  but  he  gi-adually  resumed  courage, 
and  had,  ere  long,  distinguished  among  his  pupils  a 
youth  of  twenty-four,  whose  look  bespoke  a  love  of 
study.  He  was  named  Thomas  Plater,  and  was 
originally  from  the  Valais.  In  the  beautiful  valley, 
where  the  torrent  of  the  Viege,  after  escaping  from 
the  ocean  of  glaciers  and  snow  which  surround  mount 
Rosa,  rolls  its  turbulent  waters  between  St.  Nicholas 
and  Stalden,  on  the  mountain  which  rises  on  the  right 
of  the  river,  still  stands  the  village  of  Griichcn.  It 
was  the  birthplace  of  Plater.     From  the  vicinity  of 


these  colossal  Alps  was  to  come  forth  one  of  the  most 
original  characters  who  figured  in  the  grand  drama  of 
the  sixteenth  century.  Placed  at  the  age  of  nine  with 
a  curate,  a  relation,  the  little  peasant,  wlien  beaten,  as 
he  often  was,  cried,  to  use  his  own  words,  "  like  a  hare 
when  it  is  put  to  death."  One  of  his  cousins  took  liim 
with  him  to  visit  the  German  schools.  He  was  already 
more  than  twenty  years  of  age,  and,  while  running 
from  school  to  school,  could  scarcely  read.'  Having 
arrived  at  Zurich,  he  firmly  resolved  to  attend  to  his 
education  ;  and  having  made  a  bench  for  himself  in  a 
corner  of  JNIyconius's  school,  said  to  himself:  "There 
you  will  learn  or  die."  The  light  of  the  Gospel  pene- 
trated his  heart.  One  morning,  feeling  very  cold,  and 
having  nothing  to  heat  the  school  stove,  which  it  was 
his  oflice  to  keep  going,  he  said  to  himself :  "  You  have 
no  wood,  and  so  many  idols  in  the  church."  Though 
Zwingle  was  to  preach,  and  the  bells  had  begun  to 
ring,  nobody  was  present.  Plater  silently  entered  the 
church,  and  carrying  off  a  St.  John  that  stood  upon  an 
altar,  put  it  in  the  stove,  saying :  "  Down  with  you, 
for  you  must  pass  through  it."  Doubtless,  neither 
Myconius  or  Zwingle  would  have  approved  the  act. 

In  ti-uth,  unbelief  and  superstition  required  to  be 
combated  with  better  weapons.  Zwingle  and  his  col- 
leagues had  given  the  right  hand  of  fellowship  to 
Myconius,  who  daily  expounded  the  New  Testament 
in  the  church  of  Notre  Dame  to  a  large  and  attentive 
audience.  A  public  discussion,  which  took  place  on 
the  13th  aud  14th  of  January,  1524,  had  given  a  new 
blow  to  Rome.  In  vain  had  Canon  Koch  exclaimed  : 
"  The  popes,  the  cardinals,  the  bishops,  and  the  coun- 
cils— these  are  my  church !"     .     .     . 

Everything  was  advancing  in  Zurich  ;  men's  minds 
were  enlightened,  their  hearts  were  fixed,  the  Refor- 
mation was  established.  Zurich  was  a  fortress  gained 
by  the  new  doctrine,  and  from  its  walls  that  doctrine 
was  to  spread  over  the  whole  confederation. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Diet  of  Lucerne— Hottinger  Arrested— His  Death— Deputation  of  tlie  Diet 
to  Zuricli— AboUtion  of  Processions— Abolition  of  Images— The  Two 
Reformations— Appeal  to  the  People. 

The  enemy  was  aware  of  this,  aud  saw  the  necessity 
of  resolving  to  strike  a  decisive  blow.  He  had  long 
enough  been  mute.  The  strong  men  of  Switzerland, 
the  cuirassed  and  steel-clad  warriors,  at  last  resolved  to 
rise ;  and  they  had  never  risen  without  reddening  the 
battle-field  with  blood. 

The  diet  had  met  at  Lucerne.  The  priests  laboured 
to  stir  up  the  first  council  of  the  nation  in  their  favour. 
Friburg  and  the  "NValdstetten  shewed  themselves  their 
ready  instruments ;  Berne,  Bale,  Soleure,  Glaris,  Ap- 
penzel,  were  undecided.  Schaff  hausen  almost  declared 
for  the  Gospel ;  but  Zurich  .alone  stood  up  boldly  as  its 
defender.  The  partisans  of  Rome  urged  the  diet  to 
yield  to  then-  demands  and  prejudices.  "Let  all  be 
prohibited,"  said  they,  "  to  preach,  or  announce  any- 

X  See  his  Autobiogi-aphy. 


HISTORY  OP  THE  REFORMATION. 


tiling  new  or  Lutheran,  secretly  or  publicly;  and  to 
speak  or  dispute  on  these  topics  in  taverns  and  over 
their  cups."  Such  was  the  ecclesiastical  law  which  the 
confederation  was  asked  to  establish. 

Nineteen  articles  to  this  effect  were  drawn  up,  and 
being  approved  of,  on  the  26th  January,  1523,  by  all  the 
states  except  Zurich,  were  sent  to  all  the  bailies,  with 
orders  to  see  that  they  were  strictly  observed.  "  This," 
says  Bullinger,  "  caused  great  joy  among  the  priests, 
and  great  grief  among  the  faithful."  Persecution, 
being  thus  regularly  organized  by  the  superior  autho- 
rity of  the  confederation,  now  began. 

One  of  the  first  who  received  the  orders  of  the  diet 
was  Henry  Flackenstein  of  Lucerne,  bailie  of  Baden, 
within  whose  jurisdiction  Hottinger  had  retired  on  his 
banishment  from  Zurich,  after  throwing  down  the 
crucifix  of  Stadelhofen.  Here  he  had  not  kept  a  watch 
upon  his  tongue ;  but  one  day  at  table,  in  the  Angel 
Inn  at  Zurzach,  had  .said  that  the  priests  were  bad 
expounders  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  that  it  was 
necessary  to  confide  entirely  to  God  alone.  The  inn- 
keeper, who  was  constantly  going  and  coming,  bringing 
in  bread  and  wine,  became  a  listener  to  language  which 
seemed  to  him  very  strange.  Another  day,  Hottinger 
had  been  to  see  one  of  his  friends,  John  Schutz  of 
Schneyssingen.  After  they  had  dined  together,  Schutz 
asked :  "  What,  then,  is  this  new  faith  which  the  priests 
of  Zurich  are  preaching?" — "They  preach,"  replied 
Hottinger,  '•  that  Christ  was  once  sacrificed  for  all 
Christians  ;  that  by  this  single  sacrifice  He  has  purified 
and  ransomed  them  from  all  their  sins ;  and  they  shew 
by  the  Holy  Scriptures  that  the  mass  is  a  lie." 

Hottinger  had  afterwards  quitted  Switzerland,  (this 
took  place  in  February,  1523,)  and  gone  on  business 
across  the  Rhino  to  Waldshut.  Measures  were  taken 
to  make  sure  of  him,  and  towards  the  end  of  February, 
the  poor  Zui-icher,  who  suspected  nothing,  having  again 
crossed  the  Khine,  no  sooner  reached  Coblentz,  a  vil- 
lage on  the  left  bank  of  the  river,  than  he  was  arrested. 


He  was  taken  to  Klingenau.  As  he  confessed  his  faith 
franklj',  Flackenstein  became  irritated,  and  said:  "I 
will  take  you  where  you  will  find  your  answer." 

In  fact,  the  bailie  took  him  successively  before  the 
judges  of  Klingenau,  before  the  superior  tribunal  of 
Baden,  and  at  length,  as  none  would  declare  him  guilty, 
he  took  him  before  the  diet  assembled  at  Lucerne. 
He  was  determined  to  find  judges  who  would  condemn 
him. 

The  diet  lost  no  time,  and  condemned  Hottinger  to 
be  beheaded.  On  learning  his  sentence,  he  gave 
thanks  to  Jesus  Christ.  "  Very  good,  very  good,"  said 
James  Troger,  one  of  the  judges ;  "we  are  not  here  to 
listen  to  sermons.  You  will  babble  some  other  time." 
"  His  head  must  first  be  taken  off,"  said  bailie  Amort 
of  Lucerne,  laughing;  "but  if  it  comes  on  again,  we 
will  all  embrace  his  creed."  "  May  God  forgive  those 
who  condemn  me,"  said  the  prisoner.  Then  a  monk, 
having  put  a  crucifix  to  his  lips,  he  pushed  it  away, 
saying :  "  It  is  in  the  heart  that  we  ought  to  receive 
Christ." 

AVhen  he  was  led  away  to  execution,  several  in  the 
crowd  could  not  refrain  from  tears.  "I  am  going  to 
eternal  happiness,"  said  he,  turning  towards  them.  'On 
reaching  the  place  of  execution,  he  raised  his  eyes  to 
heaven,  and  said  :  "  I  commit  my  soul  into  thy  hands, 

0  my  Redeemer!"  Next  moment  his  head  rolled  on 
the  scaffold. 

No  sooner  had  Hottinger's  blood  been  shed  than  the 
enemies  of  the  Reformation  took  advantage  of  it  still 
more  to  inflame  the  rage  of  the  confederates.  In 
Zurich  itself  must  the  evil  be  suppressed.  The  dread- 
ful example  which  had  just  been  given  must  have  filled 
Zwingle  and  his  partisans  with  terror.  One  vigorous 
cifort  more  and  Hottinger's  death  will  be  followed  by 
that  of  the  Reformation.  .  .  .  The  diet  imme- 
diately resolved  that  a  deputation  should  be  sent  to 
Zurich,  to  ask  the  council  and  citizens  to  abjure  their 
faith. 

On  the  21st  of  March  the  deputation  was  received. 
"Ancient  Christian  unity,"  said  the  deputies,  "is 
broken  ;  the  evil  extends ;  already  have  the  clergy  of 
the  four  AValdstettes  declared,  that  if  aid  is  not  given 
to  lliem,  they  will  be  obliged  to  desist  from  their  fuuc- 
iiniis.  Confederates  of  Zurich!  join  your  efforts  to 
.iiii< ;  strangle  this  new  faith  ;  depose  Zwingle  and  his 
'       I  les    then  let  us  all  unite  in  applying  a  remedy  to 

1  ncioichments  of  the  popes  and  their  courtiers." 

I  I  HIS  spoke  the  enemy.  What,  then,  were  the  men 
1  /uiich  to  do?  Would  their  hearts  fail  them,  and 
ih  u  coui  ige  melt  away  with  the  blood  of  theu"  fellow- 
iti     n' 

/uuch  did  not  long  leave  her  friends  and  enemies 
in  unceitainty.  The  council  answered  calmly  and 
II  1  ly,  that  they  could  not  make  any  concession  when 
tlic  AVord  of  God  was  involved,  and  afterwards  pro- 
( t    kd  to  leply  in  terms  still  more  eloquent. 

It  had  been  customary,  from  the  year  1351,  that,  on 
A\  hit-.unday  Monday,  a  numerous  procession,  in  which 
o\Liy  pilgiim  bore  a  cross,  should  repair  to  Einsidlen 
1 1  w  n  hip  the  Virgin.  Great  irregularities  were  com- 
mitted duiing  this  festival,  which  was  established  iu 
memoiy  ot  the  battle  of  Tatwyll.  The  procession  was 
to  t  ike  place  on  the  7th  May.     On  the  application  of 


THE  TWO  REFORMATIONS. 


tlic  three  pastors  the  council  abolished  it,  anil  nil  the 
other  processions  were  successively  reformed. 

Nor  did  they  stop  here.  Uelics,  the  source  of  many 
superstitions,  were  lionourably  buried.  Thereafter,  on 
the  demand  of  tlio  three  pastors,  the  council  issued  a 
decree  purporting  that,  as  God  alone  was  to  be  honoured, 
images  should  be  removed  from  all  the  churches  of  the 
canton,  and  their  ornaments  employed  in  relieving  the 
poor.  Twelve  councillors,  (ouc  from  eacli  tribe.)  the 
three  pastors,  the  architect  of  the  town,  blacksmiths, 
locksmiths,  carpenters,  and  masons,  i-epaired  to  the  dif- 
ferent churches,  and,  locking  the  doors  behind  them, 
took  down  the  crosses,  picked  away  the  figures  in  fresco, 
whitened  the  walls,  and  carried  off  the  images,  to  the 
great  joy  of  the  fuithfid,  who,  said  BuUinger,  "  saw  in 
this  act  a  brilliant  homage  rendered  to  God."  In  some 
couutry  churches  the  ornaments  were  burned  to  the 
honour  and  glory  of  God.  Organs,  which  were  fre- 
quently played  in  connection  with  divers  superstitious, 
were  abolished ;  and  baptism  was  administered  after  a 
new  formula,  from  which  everything  not  Scriptural 
was  excluded. 

Burgomaster  Roust  and  his  colleague  gladly  hailed 
the  triumphs  of  the  Reformation  with  their  last  look. 
They  had  lived  long  enough,  and  they  died  at  the  very 
time  of  this  great  revival. 

The  Swiss  Reformation  presents  itself  under  an 
aspect  very  different  from  that  of  the  German  Refor- 
mation. Luther  had  set  his  face  against  the  excesses 
of  those  who  broke  down  the  images  in  the  churches 
of  Wittemberg ;  but  images  fell  in  the  presence  of 
Zwiugle  in  the  churches  of  Zurich.  This  difference  is 
explained  by  the  peculiarities  of  the  two  reformers. 
Luther  wished  to  retain  in  the  Church  everything  that 
was  not  directly  contrary  to  Scriptiu-e;  whereas  Zwingle 
wished  to  abolish  c\erything  that  could  not  be  proved 
by  Scriptm-e.  The  German  reformer  wished  to  remain 
united  to  the  Church  of  former  ages,  and  was  satisfied 
with  purging  it  of  everything  that  was  opposed  to  the 
"Word  of  God.  The  Zurich  reformer  passed  by  all 
these  ages,  returned  to  apostolic  times,  and  subjecting 
the  Church  to  a  complete  transformation,  laboured  to 
re-establish  it  in  its  primitive  form. 

The  Reformation  of  Zwingle  was  therefore  the  more 
complete.  The  work  which  Providence  had  committed 
to  Luther — the  re-establishment  of  justification  by  faith 
— was,  doubtless,  the  great  work  of  the  Reformation  ; 
but  this  work  once  finished,  there  remained  others, 
which,  though  perhaps  secondary,  were  still  important. 
This  was,  more  especially,  the  work  of  Zwingle. 

In  fact,  two  great  tasks  were  given  to  the  reformers. 
Christian  Catholicism,  which  was  born  amid  Jewish 
Pharisaism  and  Greek  heathenism,  had  gradually  yielded 
to  the  infiuence  of  these  two  religious,  and  thereby 
been  transformed  into  Roman  Catholicism.  Now  the 
Reformation,  inasmuch  as  it  had  been  called  to  purify 
the  Church,  was  bound  to  emancipate  it  equally  from 
the  heathen  and  from  the  Jewish  element. 

The  Jewish  element  existed  especially  in  that  depart- 
ment of  Christian  doctrine  which  bears  reference  to 
man.  Catholicism  had  received  from  Judaism  the 
Pharisaical  ide:is  of  self -righteousness,  and  salvation  by 
human  powers  or  works. 

The  heathen  element  existed  especially  iu  that  depart- 


ment of  Christian  doctrine  which  relates  to  God.  In 
Catholicism,  the  idea  of  an  infinite  God,  whose  all- 
suHicient  power  acts  everywhere,  and  without  ceasing, 
had  been  adulterated  by  heathenism.  In  its  place  the 
reign  of  symbols,  images,  and  ceremonies,  had  been 
introduced  into  the  Church,  and  the  saints  had  become 
the  demigods  of  the  papacy. 

Luther's  Reformation  was  directed  essentially  against 
the  Jewish  element.  This  was  the  element  with  which 
he  had  to  struggle,  when  an  audacious  monk  was  sent 
by  the  popo  to  vend  the  salvation  of  souls  for  ready 
cash. 

The  Reformation  of  Zwingle  was  specially  directed 
against  the  heathen  element.  This  element  he  had 
encountered  when,  iu  the  church  of  Our  Lady  of  Ein- 
sidlen,  as  of  old  in  the  temple  of  Diana  of  Ephesus,  a 
crowd,  who  had  flocked  from  all  quarters,  stupidly 
prostrated  themselves  before  au  idol  decked  in  gold. 

The  reformer  of  Germany  proclaimed  the  great  doc- 
trine of  justification  by  faith,  and  thereby  gave  a 
death-blow  to  the  pharisalcal  righteousness  of  Rome. 
No  doubt  the  reformer  of  Switzerland  did  so  also ;  the 
inability  of  man  to  save  himself  forms  the  basis  of  the 
work  of  all  reformers.  But  Zwingle  did  more.  He 
proved  the  supreme,  universal,  exclusive  existence  and 
agency  of  God,  and  thus  gave  a  mortal  thrust  to  the 
pagan  worship  of  Rome. 

Roman  Catholicism  had  exalted  man  and  dishonoured 
God.     Luther  humbled  man :  Zwingle  exalted  God. 

These  two  tasks,  which  were  theirs  specially,  but 
not  exclusively,  were  both  completed.  That  of  Luther 
laid  the  foundation  of  the  building :  that  of  Zwingle 
put  on  the  cope-stone. 

It  was  reserved  for  a  still  greater  genius  on  the 
banks  of  the  lake  of  Geneva,  to  impress  both  charac- 
ters at  once  on  the  Reformation. 

But  while  Zwingle  was  thus  advancing  with  rapid 
strides  at  the  head  of  the  confederation,  the  temper  of 
the  cantons  was  always  becoming  more  hostile.  The 
Zurich  government  felt  the  necessity  of  being  able  to 
fall  back  on  the  people.  The  people — i.  e.,  the  assembly 
of  the  faithful — was,  moreover,  according  to  the  prin- 
ciples of  Zwingle,  the  highest  power  on  earth  to  which 
au  appeal  coiUd  be  made.  The  council  resolved  to 
sound  them,  and  ordered  the  bailies  to  put  the  question 
to  all  the  communes,  whether  they  were  wiUing  to 
endure  everything  for  the  sake  of  Jesus  Christ,  "  who," 
said  the  council,  "gave  for  us  sinners  His  life  and 
blood."  The  whole  canton  had  taken  a  deep  interest 
in  the  progress  of  the  Reformation  in  the  town,  and  in 
many  places  the  houses  of  the  peasantry  had  become 
Christian  schools,  in  which  the  Holy  Scriptures  were 
read. 

'J'lie  proclamation  of  the  council,  which  was  read  in 
all  the  districts,  was  received  with  enthusiasm.  "  Let 
our  rulei-s,"  replied  they,  "  adhere  boldly  to  the  Word 
of  God,  we  will  help  them  to  maintain  it ;  and  if  any 
annoyance  is  given  them,  we  will  bring  assistance  to 
our  brave  fellow-citizens."  The  peasantry  of  Zurich 
shewed  then,  as  they  have  shewn  since,  that  the  strength 
of  the  Church  is  in  the  Christian  people. 

But  the  people  were  not  alone.  The  man  whom  God 
had  placed  at  their  head  responded  nobly  to  their 
appeal.     Zwingle,  as  it  were,  multiplied  himself  for 


334 


HISTORY  OP  THE  REFORMATION. 


the  servico  of  God.  All  who,  in  the  Helvetic  cantons, 
endured  any  persecution  for  the  Gospel,  applied  to  him. 
The  responsibility  of  affairs,  the  care  of  the  Church, 
anxious  interest  in  the  struggle  carried  on  in  all  the 
Swiss  valleys,  formed  the  burdens  of  the  Zurich  evan- 
gelist. At  "Wittemberg,  news  of  his  courage  were 
received  with  joy.  Luther  and  Zwingle  were  two 
great  luminaries  placed  in  upper  and  lower  Germany; 
and  the  doctrine  of  salvation,  so  powerfully  preached 
by  them,  spread  over  the  extensive  regions  which 
descend  from  the  heights  of  the  Alps  to  the  shore=  of 
the  Baltic  and  tlie  Northern  Ocean. 


CHAPTER  V. 

Ni'w  OpposKion— (Exliu  caiTied  off— The  Family  of  the  Wirths— The  Wo'b  at 
the  Convent  of  Itticgen— The  Diet  of  Zug— Tlie  Wiiths  seized  and  given 
up  to  the  Diet— Condemnation. 

The  "Word  of  God  could  not  thus  triumphantly  spread 
over  extensive  districts  without  arousing  the  indigna- 
tion of  the  pope  in  his  palace,  the  curates  in  their 
])resby  teries,  and  the  Swiss  magistrates  in  their  councils. 
Their  terror  increased  every  day.  The  people  were 
consulted ;  the  Christian  people  again  became  of  some 
weight  in  the  Christian  Clmrch,  and  their  faith  and 
their  sympathies  were  appealed  to  instead  of  the  decrees 
of  the  Roman  chancery.  .  .  .  This  formidable 
attack  required  a  still  more  formidable  resistance.  On 
the  18th  April,  the  pope  addressed  a  brief  to  the  con- 
federates, and  the  diet  assembled  at  Zug  in  the  month 
of  July,  yielding  to  the  pressing  exhortations  of  the 
pontiff,  sent  a  deputation  to  Zurich,  Seliaffhausen,  and 
Appenzel,  to  declare  to  these  states  its  firm  determina- 
tion to  destroy  the  new  doctrine,  and  prosecute  its 
adherents  in  their  goods,  their  honours,  and  even  their 
lives.  Tills  warning  was  not  heard  in  Zurich  without 
emotion ;  but  it  was  firmly  answered,  that,  in  matters 
of  faith,  obedience  could  only  be  given  to  the  Word  of 
God.  On  hearing  this  reply.  Lucerne,  Schwitz,  Uri, 
Underwalden,  Friburg,  and  Zug,  gave  loud  utterance 
to  their  rage,  and  forgetting  the  reputation  and  strength 
whicli  the  accession  of  Zurich  had  of  old  given  to  the 
rising  confederation,  forgetting  the  precedence  which 
had  already  been  conceded  to  it,  the  simple  and  solemn 
oaths  which  had  been  taken  to  it,  and  the  many  com- 
mon victories  and  reverses,  these  states  declared  that 
they  would  not  sit  in  diet  with  Zurich.  Thus,  in 
Switzerland,  as  in  Germany,  the  partisans  of  Rome 
were  the  first  to  violate  federal  unity.  But  menaces 
and  ruptures  of  alliance  were  not  sufficient.  The 
fanaticism  of  the  cantons  demanded  blood,  and  it  was 
soon  seen  with  what  weapons  the  papacy  sought  to 
combat  the  Word  of  God. 

A  friend  of  Zwingle,  the  excellent  CExlin,  was  pastor 
at  Berg,  near  Stein,  on  the  Rhine.  Tlie  bailie,  Am- 
berg,  who  had  appeared  to  listen  gladly  to  the  Gospel, 
wishing  to  obtain  this  bailiwick,  had  promised  the 
leading  men  in  Schwitz  to  destroy  the  new  faith. 
QSxliu,  though  he  was  not  subject  to  his  jurisdiction, 
was  the  first  on  whom  his  severity  was  to  be  exercised. 


On  the  night  of  7th  July,  1524,  a  knock  was  heard 
towards  midnight  at  the  pastor's  door.  On  being 
opened,  the  bailie's  soldiers  seized  him,  and  carried  him 
off  prisoner,  notwithstanding  of  his  cries.  CExlin,  on 
his  part,  thinking  they  were  going  to  assassinate  him, 
cried.  Murder ;  the  inhabitants  got  up  in  alarm,  and 
the  whole  village  was  soon  in  a  frightful  tumult,  the 
noise  of  which  reached  as  far  as  Steiu.  The  sentinel 
on  guard  at  the  castle  of  Hohenklingen  fired  the  alarm 
cannon,  the  tocsin  sounded,  and  the  inhabitants  of 
Stein,  Stammheim,  and  the  adjacent  places,  were  all 
in  a  few  moments  in  motion,  inquiring,  amid  the  dark- 
ness, as  to  what  had  happened  in  the  district. 

At  Stammheim  lived  vice-bailie  AVirth,  whose  two 
sons,  Adrian  and  John,  young  priests  full  of  piety 
and  courage,  earnestly  preached  the  Gospel.  John 
especially,  in  the  fulness  of  faith,  was  ready  to  give  his 
life  to  his  Saviour.  It  was  a  patriarchal  family.  Anna, 
the  mother,  who  had  giveu  the  bailie  a  numerous 
family,  and  had  brought  them  up  in  the  fear  of  the 
Lord,  was  revered  for  her  virtues  over  the  whole  dis- 
trict. On  hearing  of  the  tumult  of  Berg,  the  father 
and  the  two  eldest  sons  came  out  of  the  house.  The 
father's  indignation  was  roused  when  he  saw  that  the 
bailie  of  Frauenfeld  had  exercised  his  authority  in  an 
illegal  manner.  The  sons  were  grieved  to  learn  that 
then-  brother,  their  friend,  he  whose  good  example 
they  loved  to  follow,  was  carried  off  as  a  criminal. 
Each  of  them  seized  a  halbert,  and,  in  spite  of  the 
fears  of  an  affectionate  wife  and  mother,  the  father 
and  the  two  sons  joined  the  band  of  the  citizens  of 
Stein,  determined  to  deliver  their  pastor.  Unhappily 
a  crowd  of  those  nondescript  individuals  who  always 
spring  up  whenever  there  is  any  disturbance,  were 
also  astir.  They  set  off  in  pursuit  of  the  bailie's 
officers,  who,  hearing  the  tocsin  and  sounds  of  alarm, 
made  all  speed,  aud  dragging  along  their  victim,  soou 
placed  the  Thur  between  themselves  and  their  pursuers. 

The  people  of  Stein  and  Stammheim  reached  the 
river  side,  but  having  no  means  of  crossing,  stopped, 
aud  resolved  to  send  a  deputation  to  Frauenfeld.  "Ah !" 
said  bailie  Wirth,  "the  pastor  of  Stein  is  so  dear  to 
us  that  I  would  willingly  give  up  everything  for  him, 
my  goods,  my  liberty,  and  even  my  life."  The  mob 
finding  themselves  near  the  convent  of  the  Cordeliers 
of  Ittiugen,  who  were  supposed  to  stimulate  the  tyranny 
of  the  bailie  Amberg,  entered,  and  got  possession  of 
the  refectory.  These  miserable  beings  soon  became 
intoxicated,  and  scenes  of  disorder  ensued.  Wirth 
implored  them,  but  in  vain,  to  quit  the  convent ;  he 
even  exposed  himself  to  be  maltreated  by  them.  His 
son  Adrian  remained  outside  the  cloister.  John  entered 
it,  but  distressed  at  what  he  saw  he  immediately  came 
out  again.  The  intoxicated  peasants  began  to  break 
into  the  wine  cellars  and  stores,  to  break  the  furniture 
to  pieces,  aud  burn  the  books. 

News  of  these  disorders  having  reached  Zurich, 
deputies  from  the  council  hastened  to  the  spot,  and 
ordered  those  who  had  come  out  of  the  canton  to  return 
to  their  homes.  The  order  was  obeyed.  But  a  crowd 
of  Thurgovians,  attracted  by  the  tumult,  installed 
themselves  in  the  convent,  and  there  made  good  cheer. 
Suddenly,  no  one  knew  how,  a  fire  bi'oke  out,  and  the 
convent  was  reduced  to  ashes. 


THE  WIRTHS  GIVEN  UP  TO  THE  DIET. 


333 


Five  daj-s  after,  the  deputies  of  the  cantons  met  at 
Zug.  Cries  of  revenge  and  deatli  were  heard  in  the 
assembly.  "  Let  ns  march,"  said  they,  '•  with  banners 
unfurled,  on  Stein  and  Stammheim,  and  smite  their 
inhabitants  with  the  sword."  The  vice-bailie  and  his 
two  sons,  on  account  of  their  faith,  had  long  been  the 
objects  of  special  hatred.  "  If  any  one  is  guilty,"  said 
the  deputy  of  Zurich,  "let  him  be  punished;  but  be  it 
according  to  the  laws  of  justice,  and  not  by  violence." 
Acadian,  deputy  of  St.  Gall,  supported  this  view.  Then 
the  envoy,  .lolin  Hug  of  Lucerne,  imable  to  restrain 
himself,  CKclaimed,  with  ck-eadful  oaths:  "The  heretic 
Zwingle  is  tlie  father  of  all  these  revolts,  and  you, 
doctor  of  St.  Gall,  you  favour  his  infamous  cause,  you 
aid  him  in  securing  its  triumphs.  .  .  .  You  ought 
not  to  sit  longer  among  us."  The  deputy  of  Zug 
endeavoured  to  restore  peace,  but  in  vain.  Vadian 
retired ;  and  as  some  of  the  populace  had  designs  upon 
his  life,  he  secretly  left  the  town,  and  arrived,  by  a 
devious  course,  at  the  convent  of  Cappel. 

Zurich,  determined  to  suppress  all  disorder,  resolved, 
in  the  meantime,  to  up|)reheud  those  who  had  roused 
the  auger  of  the  confederates.  AVirth  and  his  sons 
were  living  ])eaceably  at  Stammheim.  "  Never  will  the 
enemies  of  God  be  able  to  overcome  his  friends,"  said 
Adrian  AVirth  from  the  pulpit.  The  father  received 
information  of  the  fate  which  awaited  him,  and  was 
urged  to  fly  with  his  sons.  "No,"  said  he;  "trusting 
in  God,  I  mean  to  wait  for  the  officers."  And  when 
the  soldiers  made  their  ajipearance  at  his  house,  he 
said:  "My  lords  of  Zurich  might  have  spared  them- 
selves all  this  trouble ;  they  had  oidy  to  send  a  child 
for  me,  and  I  would  have  obeyed."  The  three  AVirths 
were  led  away  to  the  prison  of  Zurich.  Rutiraan, 
bailie  of  Nussbaum,  shared  their  fate.  They  were 
closely  examined,  but  nothing  was  discovered  in  their 
conduct  to  criminate  them. 

As  soon  as  the  deputies  had  learned  the  imprison- 
ment of  these  four  citizens,  they  demanded  that  they 
should  be  sent  to  Baden,  and  gave  orders,  in  the  event 
of  a  refusal,  to  march  upon  Zurich  and  carry  them 
off.  "  To  Zurich,"  replied  the  deputies  of  this  state, 
"  it  belongs  to  ascertain  whether  these  men  are  guilty 
or  not ;  and  we  have  found  no  fault  in  them."  Then 
the  deputies  of  the  cantons  exclaimed :  "  AA'^ill  you 
deliver  them  to  us?  Answer  yes  or  no;  and  not  one 
word  more."  Two  of  the  deputies  of  Zurich  took 
horse,  and  rode  off  at  full  speed  to  theu"  constituents. 

On  their  arrival  all  the  town  was  in  great  agita- 
tion. If  the  prisoners  were  refused,  the  confederates 
would  come  and  seek  them  with  arms  in  their  hands  ; 
and  if  they  were  delivered,  it  was  the  same  thing 
as  givuig  them  up  to  death.  Opinions  were  divided. 
Zwingle  was  decidedly  for  refusing.  "Zurich,"  said 
he,  "  must  remain  faithful  to  its  constitution."  At 
last  it  was  thought  that  a  middle  course  liad  been 
found.  "AA''e  will  remit  the  prisoners  to  you,"  said 
they  to  the  diet;  "but  on  condition  that  you  will 
only  examine  them  as  to  the  affair  of  Ittingen,  and 
not  as  to  their  faith."  The  diet  acceded  to  the  terms ; 
and  on  the  Friday  before  St.  Bai-tholomew's  day, 
(August,  1524,)  the  three  AVirths  and  theii-  friend, 
accompanied  by  four  councillors  of  state,  left  Zurich. 

There  was  general  lamentation.     It  was  foreseen 


what  fate  awaited  these  two  old  men  and  these  two 
youths.  Nothing  but  sobbing  was  heard  as  they  passed 
along.  "Alas!"  exclaims  a  contemporary,  "what  a 
mournful  procession !"  The  churches  were  crowded. 
"God,"  exclaimed  Zwingle, — "God  will  punish  us. 
Ah  !  let  us,  at  least,  implore  Him  to  impart  His  grace 
to  these  poor  prisoners,  and  strengthen  their  faith." 

On  Friday  evening  the  accused  arrived  at  Baden, 
where  an  immense  crowd  was  waiting  for  them. 
They  were  first  taken  to  an  inn,  and  then  to  prison. 
They  had  difficulty  in  moving  forward,  the  people 
pressed  so  close  upon  them  to  see  them.  The  father, 
who  walked  in  front,  turned  towards  his  sous,  and 
mildly  said  to  them  :  "  See,  my  dear  children,  we  are, 
as  the  apostle  says,  as  it  ivere  appointed  to  death :  for 
ice  are  made  a  spectacle  to  the  world,  and  to  angels,  and 
to  men,"  (1  Cor.  iv.  9.)  Then  perceiving  in  the  crowd 
his  mortal  enemy,  bailie  Amberg,  the  cause  of  all 
his  misfortunes,  he  went  up  and  offered  him  his 
hand ;  but  the  bailie  turned  away.  Clasping  his  hand 
in  his,  he  calmly  said :  "  God  lives  in  heaven,  and 
knows  all  things." 

The  inquest  commenced  on  the  following  day.  Bailie 
AVirlh  was  first  brought  in.  He  was  put  to  the  tor- 
ture, without  regard  to  his  character  or  his  age ;  but 
he  persisted  in  declaring  that  he  was  innocent  of  the 
pillaging  and  burning  of  Ittingen.  He  was  then 
charged  with  destroying  an  image  of  St.  Anne.  .  . 
Nothing  could  be  proved  against  the  other  prisoners, 
except  that  Adrian  AVirth  was  married,  and  preached 
after  the  manner  of  Zwingle  and  Luther;  and  that 
John  AA^irth  had  given  the  sacrament  to  a  sick  per- 
son without  bell  and  taper. 

But  the  more  their  iuuocence  was  proved,  the  more 
the  rage  of  their  adversaries  increased.  From  morn- 
ing till  noon  the  old  man  was  kept  under  the  torture. 
His  tears  could  not  soften  his  judges.  John  AVirlh 
was  still  more  cruelly  tortured.  "  Tell  us,"  he  was 
asked,  in  the  midst  of  his  agony, — "  tell  us  where  you 
got  your  heretical  faith?  AA''as  it  from  Zwingle,  or 
some  other  person?"  And  as  he  exclaimed:  "O 
merciful  and  eternal  God,  come  to  my  aid  and  support 
me!"  "Ah,  well!"  said  one  of  the  deputies  to  him, 
"  where  is  now  thy  Christ  ?"  AA^hen  Adrian  appeared, 
Sebastian  of  Stein,  deputy  of  Berne,  said  to  him: 
"  Young  man,  tell  us  the  truth ;  for  if  you  refuse  to 
tell  it,  I  swear  to  you,  by  my  knighthood,  which  1 
acquired  in  the  very  place  where  God  suffered  martyr- 
dom, that  we  will  open  all  the  veins  of  your  body  in 
succession."  Thou  the  young  man  was  attached  to  a 
cord,  and  as  they  swuug  him  in  the  air,  "  My  little 
master,"  said  Stein,  with  a  diabolical  smile,  "here  is 
our  mai-riage  present," — alluding  to  the  marriage  of 
the  Lord's  young  servant. 

The  process  being  concluded,  the  deputies  returned 
to  their  cantons  to  make  their  report,  and  did  not 
return  till  four  weeks  after.  The  bailie's  wife,  the 
mother  of  the  two  young  priests,  repaired  to  Baden, 
with  au  infant  in  her  arms,  to  intercede  with  the  judges. 
John  Eschcr  of  Zurich  accompanied  her  as  advocate. 
Perceiving  among  the  judges  the  landamman  of  Zug, 
Jerome  Stocker,  who  had  two  different  times  been 
bailie  of  Frauenfeld:  "  Landamman,"  said  he  to  him, 
"you  know  bailie  AVirth:  you  know  that  he  has  all 


336 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


his  life  been  au  liouest  mau." — "  You  say  true,  my 
dear  Escher,"  replied  Stockcr,  "  he  never  liarraed  any 
one ;  fellow-citizens  and  strangers  were  always  kindly 
received  at  his  table ;  his  house  resembled  a  convent, 
an  inn,  an  hospital.  Hence,  if  ho  had  robbed  or  mur- 
dered, I  would  do  everything  in  my  power  to  obtain 
his  pardon.  But  since  he  has  burned  St.  Anne,  the 
grandmother  of  Christ,  he  must  die !"  ,  .  .  "  God 
have  mercy  on  us !"  exclaimed  Escher. 

The  gates  were  shut.  This  was  on  the  28th  Sep- 
tember, and  the  deputies  of  Berne,  Lucerne,  Uri, 
Schwitz,  Unterwaldeu,  Zug,  Glaris,  Friburg,  and 
Soleure,  having  proceeded  to  judgment  with  closed 
doors,  according  to  custom,  pronounced  sentence  of 
death  on  bailie  AVirth,  his  son  John,  who  was  strongest 
in  the  faith,  and  appeared  to  have  carried  the  others 
along  with  him,  and  bailie  Rutiman.  Adrian,  the 
second  son,  was  granted  to  his  mother's  tears. 

The  officers  proceeded  to  the  tower  to  fetch  the  pri- 
soners. "My  son,"  said  the  father  to  Adrian,  "do 
not  avenge  our  death,  although  we  have  not  deserved 
to  suffer."  .  .  .  Adrian's  tears  fell  fast.  "My 
brother,"  said  John  to  him,  "  the  cross  of  Jesus  Christ 
must  always  follow  His  Word." 

After  the  judgment  was  read  these  throe  Christians 
were  taken  back  to  prison;  John  Wirth  walked  in 
front,  the  two  vice-hailies  next,  and  a  vicar  followed. 
As  they  passed  the  castle  bridge,  where  was  a  chapel 
consecrated  to  St.  Joseph  :  "  Prostrate  yourselves,  and 
invoke  the  saints,"  said  the  priest  to  the  two  old 
men.  John  Wii-th,  who  was  in  advance,  turned  back 
on  hearing  these  words,  and  cried  out:  "Father, 
remain  firm.  Y'ou  know  there  is  only  one  mediator 
between  God  and  man,  the  man  Christ  Jesus." — "  Cer- 
tainly, my  sou,"  replied  the  old  man ;  "  and  with  the 
help  of  His  grace  I  will  remain  faithful  unto  the  end." 
All  three  now  began  to  repeat  the  Lord's  Prayer :  "Our 
Father  which  art  in  heaven."  Then  they  passed  the 
bridge. 

They  were  afterwards  led  to  the  scaffold.  John 
Wirth,  whose  heart  was  filled  with  the  tenderest 
anxiety  for  his  father,  took  farewell  of  him.  "My 
dearly  beloved  father,"  said  he  to  him,  "  henceforth 
you  are  no  longer  my  father,  and  I  am  no  longer  your 
son  ;  but  we  are  brethren  in  Christ  our  Lord,  for  whose 
name  I  am  to  suffer  death.  To-day,  dearly  beloved 
brother,  if  it  pleases  God,  we  shall  go  to  Him  who  is 
tlue  Father  of  us  all.  Fear  nothing." — "Amen!"  replied 
the  old  man ;  "  and  may  God  Almighty  bless  you,  my 
beloved  son,  and  my  brother  in  Christ!" 

Thus,  on  the  threshold  of  eternity,  this  father  and 
sou  took  leave  of  each  other,  hailing  the  new  mansions 
where  they  were  going  to  be  united  by  everlasting  ties. 
The  greater  part  of  those  around  them  were  weeping 
bitterly.     Bailie  Rutiman  prayed  in  silence. 

The  three  having  knelt  down,  "in  the  name  of 
Christ,"  were  beheaded. 

The  multitude,  on  seeing  the  marks  of  the  torture 
upon  their  bodies,  gave  loud  utterance  to  their  gi-ief. 
The  two  bailies  left  twenty-two  children,  and  forty- 
five  gi-andchildren.  Anne  had  to  pay  twelve  gold 
crowns  to  the  executioner  who  deprived  her  husband 
and  son  of  life. 

Thus  blood,  pure  blood   had  flowed.     Switzerland 


aud  the  Reformation  were  baptized  with  the  blood  of 
martyrs.  The  great  enemy  of  the  Gospel  had  done  his 
work  ;  but  in  doing  it  his  power  was  broken.  The 
death  of  the  Wirths  was  to  hasten  the  triumphs  of 
the  Reformation. 


CHAPTER  VL 

Abolition  of  the  Mass— Zwingle's  Dream -Celebration  of  the  Lord's  Supper 
— Brotherly  Charity — Original  Sin — The  Oligarclis  against  tlie  Rofornia- 
tion — Divers  Attacks. 

It  was  not  thought  desirable  to  proceed  to  the  aboli- 
tion of  the  mass  in  Zurich  immediately  after  that  of 
images ;  but  now  the  moment  seemed  arrived. 

Not  only  was  evangelical  light  diffused  among  the 
people;  but,  moreover,  the  blows  which  the  enemy 
struck,  called  upon  the  friends  of  the  Gospel  to  reply 
to  them  by  striking  demonstrations  of  their  immove- 
able fidelity.  Every  time  that  Rome  erects  a  scaffold, 
and  cuts  off  heads,  the  Reformation  will  hold  up  the 
AVord  of  the  Lord,  and  cut  off  abuses.  When  Hettin- 
ger was  executed,  Zurich  abolished  images ;  now  that 
the  heads  of  the  AVirths  have  rolled  on  the  scaffold, 
Zurich  will  reply  by  the  abolition  of  the  mass.  The 
more  Rome  increases  her  cruelties,  the  more  will  the 
Reformation  see  her  power  increase. 

On  the  11th  April,  1525,  the  three  pastors  of  Zurich 
presented  themselves,  with  Megander  and  Oswald  My- 
conius,  before  the  great  council,  and  petitioned  for  the 
re-establishment  of  the  Lord's  Supper.  Their  speech 
was  grave  ;  all  minds  were  solemnized ;  every  one  felt 
the  importance  of  the  resolution  which  the  council  was 
called  to  take.  The  mass,  that  mystery  which,  for 
more  than  three  centuries,  was  the  soul  of  the  religious 
service  of  the  Latin  Church,  behoved  to  be  abolished ; 
the  corporeal  presence  of  Christ  beho\'ed  to  be  declared 
an  illusion,  and  the  illusion  itself  made  palpable  to  the 
people.  To  resolve  on  this  required  courage,  and  there 
were  men  in  the  council  who  shuddered  at  the  very 
idea  of  it.  Joachim  Am-Griit,  under-secretary  of 
State,  terrified  at  the  bold  demand  of  the  pastors, 
opposed  it  with  all  his  might.  "These  words.  This  is 
mij  body"  said  he,  "  irresistibly  prove  that  the  bread  is 
the  body  of  Christ  himself."  Zwingle  observed,  that 
in  the  Greek  language  fa-n  (is)  is  the  only  word  to 
express  siynijies;  and  he  quoted  several  instances  in 
which  this  word  is  employed  in  a  figurative  seuse. 
The  great  council  being  convinced,  hesitated  not ;  the 
evangelical  doctrines  had  penetrated  all  hearts.  Be- 
sides, now  that  the  Church  was  separated  from  Rome, 
there  was  some  satisfaction  in  making  it  as  much  so  as 
possible,  and  in  placing  a  deep  gulf  between  her  and 
the  Reformation.  The  council  accordingly  ordered 
the  abolition  of  the  mass,  and  decreed  that  next  day. 
Holy  Thursday,  the  Lord's  Supper  should  be  celebrated 
in  accordance  with  apostolic  usage. 

Zwingle  was  eagerly  occupied  with  these  thoughts ; 
and  at  night,  after  he  closed  his  eyes,  he  continued 
searching  out  arguments  to  oppose  his  adversaries. 
The  subject  which  had  occupied  him  so  much  during 


CELEBRATION  OF  THE  LORDS  SUPPER. 


337 


the  day,  again  presented  itself  in  sleep.  He  dreamt 
that  he  was  disputing  with  Am-Griit,  and  could  not 
answer  his  leading  objection.  Suddenly  a  person 
appeared,  and  said :  '•  AVhy  do  you  not  quote  Exodus 
xii.  11,  I'e  s/iall  eat  it  in  haste;  it  is  the  Lord's passover?" 
Zwinglo  awoke,  leapt  out  of  bed,  took  up  the  Septua- 
gint  translation,  and  found  in  it  the  very  word  tart  (is) 
whose  meaning  here,  by  the  confession  of  all,  can  only 
be  signijies. 

Here,  then,  wo  have,  in  the  very  institution  of  the 
passover  under  the  Old  Testament,  the  meaning  for 
which  Zwingle  contends.  How,  then,  is  it  possible  to 
avoid  tlio  conclusion  that  the  two  passages  are  parallel  ? 

Tlie  next  day  Zwingle  selected  this  passage  for  his 
text,  and  spoke  so  forcibly,  that  he  removed  all  doubts. 

Tliis  circumstance,  which  is  so  naturally  explained, 
and  the  expression  used  by  Zwingle,  when  he  said,  that 
lie  did  not  remember  the  appearance  of  the  person 
whom  he  saw  in  his  dream,  Iiavc  given  rise  to  the 
charge  that  the  reformer  learned  his  doctrine  from  the 
devil. 

Altars  had  disappeared ;  and  their  places  were  sup- 
plied by  single  tables,  on  which  stood  the  bread  and 
wine  of  the  eucharist,  while  an  attentive  congregation 
thronged  around.  There  was  something  solemn  in  the 
numbers.  On  Holy  Thursday,  the  young ;  on  Friday, 
(Passion-day,)  adults ;  and  on  Easter,  the  old,  succes- 
sively celebrated  the  Lord's  death. 

The  deacons  read  the  passages  of  Scripture  which 
refer  to  the  sacrament,  the  pastors  addressed  an  earnest 
exhortation  to  the  flock,  urging  all  those  who,  by  con- 
tinuing in  sin,  would  defile  the  body  of  the  Lord  Jesus, 
to  abstain  from  this  sacred  supper.  The  people  knelt ; 
the  bread  was  handed  round  on  large  platters  or  wooden 
plates,  and  each  pei-son  broke  a  portion ;  the  wine  was 
dispensed  in  wooden  cups  —  this  being  thought  to 
approach  nearest  to  the  first  institution.  Surprise  and 
joy  filled  all  hearts. 

Thus  the  Reformation  was  effected  in  Zurich.  The 
simple  celebration  of  the  Lord's  death  seemed  to  have 
again  infused  into  the  Church  the  love  of  God,  and  the 
love  of  the  brethren.  The  words  of  Jesus  Christ  were 
again  spirit  and  life.  "While  the  different  orders  and 
different  parties  of  the  Church  of  Rome  had  never 
ceased  to  dispute  with  each  other,  the  first  effect  of  the 
Gospel,  on  again  entering  the  Church,  was  to  establish 
charity  among  the  brethren.  The  love  of  the  primi- 
tive ages  was  restored  to  Christendom.  Enemies  were 
seen  renouncing  old  and  inveterate  hatred,  and  embrac- 
ing each  other,  after  having  eaten  together  of  the  bread 
of  the  eucharist.  Zwingle,  delighted  at  these  touching 
manifestations,  thanked  God  that  the  Lord's  Supper 
was  again  performing  those  miracles  of  love  which  the 
sacrifice  of  the  mass  had  long  ceased  to  produce. 

"Peace  dwells  in  our  city,"  exclaimed  he;  "among 
us  no  pretence,  no  dissension,  no  envy,  no  quarrel. 
AVTience  can  such  agreement  come  but  from  the  Lord, 
and  because  the  doctrine  which  we  preach  disposes 
us  to  innocence  and  peace  ?" 

There  were  now  charity  and  unity,  but  not  uniformity. 
Zwingle,  in  his  "  Commentary  on  True  and  False  Reli- 
gion," which  he  dedicated  to  Francis  L,  in  March,  1525, 
the  year  of  the  battle  of  Pavia,  had  presented  some 
truths,  in  the  manner  best  fitted  to  gain  a  reception 


fi'om  human  reason ;  in  this  following  the  example  of 
several  of  the  most  distinguished  scholastic  theologians. 
Thus  he  had  applied  the  term  disease  to  original  cor- 
ruption, and  restricted  that  of  sin  to  the  actual  trans- 
gression of  the  law.  But  these  statements,  though 
they  called  forth  some  remonstrances,  did  not  interrupt 
brotherly  love ;  for  Zwingle,  while  persisting  in  calling 
original  sin  a  disease,  added  that,  in  consequence  of  it 
all  men  were  undone,  and  that  the  only  remedy  was  in 
Jesus  Christ.  There  was,  therefore,  no  Pelagian  error 
here. 

But  while  the  celebration  of  the  Supper  in  Zurich 
wa-s  accompanied  with  a  return  to  Christian  brother- 
hood, Zwingle  and  his  friends  had  so  much  more  to 
endure  externally  fnim  the  irritation  of  adversaries. 
Zwingle  wixs  not  only  a  Christian  leader ;  he  was  also 
a  true  patriot ;  and  wc  know  with  what  zeal  he  com- 
bated enlistment,  pensions,  and  foreign  alliances.  He 
was  convinced  that  these  influences  from  abroad  des- 
troyed piety,  blinded  reason,  and  sowed  discord.  But 
his  loud  protestations  must  have  hurt  the  progress  of 
the  Reformation.  In  almost  all  the  cantons  the  leaders 
who  received  foreign  pensions,  and  the  officers  who  led 
the  Helvetic  youth  to  battle,  formed  powerful  factions, 
formidable  oligarchies,  which  attacked  the  Reforma- 
tion, not  so  much  from  any  view  to  the  Church,  iis  on 
account  of  the  prejudicial  effect  it  threatened  to  have 
to  their  interests  and  honours.  They  had  already 
gained  the  day  at  Schwitz.  This  canton,  in  which 
Zwingle,  Leo  Juda,  and  Myconius,  had  taught,  and 
which  might  have  been  expected  to  follow  in  the  wake 
of  Zurich,  was  again  all  at  once  opened  to  mercenary 
enlistments,  and  shut  against  the  Reformation. 

At  Zurich  even,  some  wretches,  stirred  up  by  foreign 
intrigues,  attacked  Zwingle  in  the  middle  of  the  night, 
threw  stones  at  his  house,  broke  his  windows,  and  with 
loud  cries  called  him  "  the  red  Uli,  the  vulture  of 
Glaris  ;"  so  that  Zwingle  was  awoke,  and  ran  for  his 
sword.     This  circumstance  is  characteristic  of  the  man. 

But  these  isolated  attacks  could  not  paralyze  the 
movement  which  was  carrying  forward  Zurich,  and 
beginning  to  shake  Switzerland.  They  were  only  like 
stones  thrown  in  to  arrest  a  torrent.  The  waters,  ris- 
ing on  every  side,  threatened  to  break  down  the 
strongest  obstacles. 

The  Bernese  having  declared  to  the  Zurichers  that 
several  states  had  refused  to  sit  with  them  in  diet  in 
future :  "  Very  well,"  replied  those  of  Zurich,  calmly 
raising  their  hands  to  heaven,  as  the  men  of  Rutli  in 
former  days,  "  we  have  a  firm  assurance  that  God  the 
Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Spirit,  in  whose  name  the  con- 
federation was  formed,  will  not  forsake  us ;  but  will,  at 
last,  in  mercy,  give  us  a  seat  beside  His  Sovereign 
Majesty."  With  such  a  faith  the  Reformation  had 
nothing  to  fear.  But  will  it  gain  similar  victories  in 
the  other  states  of  the  confederation  ?  Will  not  Zurich 
be  left  alone  in  favour  of  the  Word?  Will  Berne, 
Bale,  and  other  cantons  besides,  remain  subject  to  the 
power  of  Rome?  AVe  sliall  now  see.  Let  us  turn, 
then,  towards  Berne,  and  study  the  progress  of  the 
Reformation  in  the  most  influential  state  of  the 
confederation. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


CHAPTER  ^^I. 

Heme— Tlie  Provost  of  WatteviUe— First  Successes  of  the  Reformation— 
Hallei-  at  the  Convent-Accusation  and  Deliverance— The  Monastery  of 
Konigsfeld— Margaret  of  Watteville  to  Zwingle— The  Convent  Open- 
Two  Opposite  Champions— Clara  May  and  the  Provost  of  Watteville. 

NowiTERE  was  the  struggle  to  be  keener  than  at  Berue, 
•where  the  Gospel  had  at  once  powerful  friends  and 
formidable  foes.  At  the  head  of  the  friends  of  the 
Reformation  stood  banneret  John  Weingarten ;  Bartho- 
lomew May,  member  of  the  little  council;  his  sons, 
Wolfgang  and  Claudius ;  his  grandchildren,  James  and 
Benedict;  and,  above  all,  the  family  of  Watteville. 
The  avoyer  James  Watteville,  who  had,  from  1512, 
filled  the  first  place  in  the  republic,  had  early  read  the 
writings  of  Luther  and  Zwingle,  and  had  often  con- 
versed on  the  Gospel  with  John  Haller.  pastor  at 
Alsentingen,  whom  he  had  protected  against  his 
persecutors. 

His  sou,  Nicholas,  aged  thirty-one,  had  been  for  two 
years  provost  of  the  church  of  Berne ;  and,  as  such,  in 
virtue  of  papal  ordinances,  enjoyed  great  privileges. 
Hence  Berthold  Haller  called  him  "  our  bishop." 

The  prelates  and  the  pope  were  exceedingly  desirous 
to  bind  him  to  the  interests  of  Rome,  and  everj'thing 
might  have  been  expected  to  estrange  him  from  the 
knowledge  of  the  Gospel ;  but  the  agency  of  God  was 
more  powerful  than  the  flattery  of  man.  Watteville 
was  converted  from  darkness  to  the  pure  light  of  the 
Gospel,  says  Zwingle.  The  friend  of  Berthold  Haller, 
he  read  all  the  letters  which  the  latter  received  from 
Zwingle,  and  could  not  sufficiently  express  his  admira- 
tion. 

The  interest  of  the  two  Wattevilles,  who  were  at  the 
head — the  one  of  the  State,  the  other  of  the  Church — 
might  have  been  expected  to  carry  the  republic.  But 
the  opposite  party  was  not  less  powerful. 

Among  its  leaders  were  observed  the  schulthess  of 
Erlach,  banneret  Willading,  and  several  patricians, 
whose  interests  were  the  same  as  those  of  the  convents 
placed  under  their  administration.  Behind  these  in- 
fluential individuals  were  an  ignorant  and  corrupt 
clergy,  who  called  the  evangelical  doctrine  "  an  inven- 
tion of  hell."  In  the  month  of  July,  councillor  Mul- 
liuen  said  in  full  assembly:  "Dear  confederates,  take 
care  that  the  Reformation  do  not  gain  upon  us.  In 
Zurich  people  are  not  safe  in  their  houses ;  they  require 
soldiers  to  defend  them."  In  consequence,  application 
was  made  to  John  Heim,  the  lecturer  of  the  Domini- 
cans at  Mentz,  who  came  to  Berne,  and  began  to 
inveigh  from  the  pulpit,  with  all  the  eloquence  of  St. 
Thomas,  against  the  Reformation. 

Thus  the  two  parties  were  arrayed  against  each 
other,  the  struggle  seemed  inevitable,  and  even  the 
result  not  doubtful.  In  fact,  a  common  faith  united  a 
portion  of  the  people  to  the  most  distinguished  families 
of  the  State.  Berthold  Haller,  full  of  confidence  in  the 
future,  exclaimed :  "  Provided  God's  anger  is  not  turned 
against  us,  it  is  impossible  that  the  Word  of  God  can 
be  banished  from  this  town,  for  the  Bernese  are  hun- 
gering for  it." 

Shortly  after,  two  acts  of  the  government  seemed  to 


throw  the  balance  in  the  favour  of  the  Reformation. 
The  Bishop  of  Lausanne  having  announced  an  episcopal 
visitation,  the  council  caused  the  provost  Watteville 
intimate  to  him  that  he  would  have  to  dispense  with 
it.  And,  at  the  same  time,  the  councils  of  Berne  issued 
an  ordinance  which,  while  it  apparently  made  some 
concession  to  the  enemies  of  the  Reformation,  conse- 
crated its  principles.  They  decreed  that  the  Holy 
Gospel,  and  the  doctrine  of  God,  as  it  could  be  proved 
from  the  books  of  the  Old  and  New  Testament,  should 
be  preached  freely  and  openly;  and  that  nothing  should 
be  said  of  any  doctrine,  dispute,  or  writing,  proceeding 
from  Luther  or  other  teachers.  The  surprise  of  the 
adversaries  of  the  Reformation  was  great  when  they 
saw  the  evangelical  ministers  loudly  appealing  to  this 
ordinance.  This  decree,  which  was  the  basis  of  all 
which  followed,  was  the  legal  commencement  of  the 
Reformation  in  Berne.  There  was  thenceforward 
more  decision  in  the  movement  of  this  state,  and 
Zwingle,  whose  eye  was  attentive  to  all  that  took  place 
in  Switzerland,  could  write  to  the  provost  Watteville : 
"AH  Christians  rejoice  because  of  this  faith  which  the 
pious  town  of  Berne  has  just  received." — "  The  cause 
is  that  of  Clu-ist,"  exclaimed  the  friends  of  the  Gospel ; 
and  they  devoted  themselves  to  it  with  still  greater 
coiu-age. 

The  enemies  of  the  Reformation,  alarmed  at  these 
first  advantages,  formed  their  phalanx,  and  resolved  to 
strike  a  blow  which  would  ensure  the  victory.  They 
conceived  the  project  of  disencumbering  themselves  of 
those  ministers  whose  audacious  eloquence  subverted 
the  most  ancient  customs.  A  favourable  opportunity 
soon  occurred.  There  was  in  Berne,  at  the  place  now 
occupied  by  the  hospital  of  the  Isle,  a  convent  of  nuns 
of  St.  Dominick,  dedicated  to  St.  Michael.  The  day  of 
this  archangel  (29th  September)  was  a  great  festival  in 
the  monastery.  This  3'ear  it  was  attended  by  several 
ecclesiastics,  among  others,  by  Wittembach  of  Bienne, 
Sebastian  Meyer,  and  Berthold  Haller.  Having  entered 
into  conversation  with  the  nuns,  among  whom  was 
Clara,  daughter  of  Claudius  May,  one  of  the  props  of 
the  Reformation,  Haller  said  to  her,  in  presence  of  her 
grandmother :  "  The  merits  of  the  monastic  state  are 
imaginary,  whereas  marriage  is  an  honourable  state, 
having  been  instituted  by  God  himself."  Some  nuns, 
to  whom  Clara  related  the  conversation  of  Berthold, 
raised  cries  of  terror.  It  was  soon  cu-culated  in  the 
town  :  "  Haller  maintains  that  all  nuns  are  children  of 
the  devil."  .  .  .  The  opportunity  sought  by  the 
enemies  of  the  Reformation  had  arrived ;  they  appeared 
before  the  lesser  council,  and  referred  to  an  ancient 
ordinance,  which  bore  that  any  person  carrying  off  a 
nun  from  the  monastery  should  lose  his  head ;  but 
asked  "for  li  mitigation  of  the  sentence,"  and  that  it 
should  be  considered  sufficient,  without  hearing  the 
three  ministers,  to  banish  them  for  life.  The  lesser 
council  acceded  to  the  petition,  and  the  matter  was 
speedily  carried  before  the  great  council. 

Thus  Berne  was  on  the  eve  of  being  deprived  of  her 
reformers.  The  intrigues  of  the  papal  party  had  pre- 
vailed. But  Rome,  though  she  triumphed  when  she 
addressed  the  oligarchs,  was  beaten  before  the  people 
and  their  representatives.  No  sooner  had  the  names 
of  Haller,  Meyer,  and  AVittembach,  the  men  whom  all 


THE  MONASTERY  OF  KONIGSFELD. 


339 


Switzerland  venerated,  been  pronounced  in  the  great 
council,  than  a  powerful  opposition  was  manifested  to 
the  lesser  council  and  the  clerfry.  "  Wc  cannot," 
exclaimed  Tilhnaini,  "condemn  tiie  accused  without 
hearing  them.  Tlieir  testimony  is  surely  as  good  as 
that  of  some  women."  The  ministers  were  then  called. 
It  was  felt  difficult  to  dispose  of  tiie  affair.  At  length 
John  of  ■\Veingarten  said:  "Let  us  give  credit  to  both 
parties."  It  was  so  decided.  The  ministers  were  dis- 
cliarged,  with  a  request,  however,  to  meddle  only  with 
the  pulpit,  and  not  with  the  cloister.  But  the  pulpit 
was  sutlicient  for  them.  The  efforts  of  the  enemy  had 
rcdoimded  to  their  disgrace.  The  Keformation  had 
gained  a  great  victory.  Accordingly,  one  of  the  patri- 
cians exclaimed:  "Now  that  everything  is  said, Luther's 
affair  must  go  forward." 

It  did,  in  fact,  go  forward,  and  even  in  places  where 
it  might  have  been  least  expected.  At  Konigsfeld, 
near  the  castle  of  Hapsburg,  stood  a  monastery  adorned 
with  all  the  monastic  magniliceuce  of  the  Middle  Ages, 
and  containing  the  ashes  of  several  members  of  the 
illustrious  house  which  has  given  so  many  emperors  to 
Germauj'.  Here  the  greatest  families  of  Switzerland 
and  Swabia  made  their  daughters  take  the  veil.  Not 
far  from  this  spot,  on  1st  May,  1308,  the  Emperor 
Albert  had  fallen  under  the  dagger  of  his  nephew, 
John  of  Swabia ;  aud  the  beautiful  painted  window 
of  the  church  of  Konigsfeld  represented  the  fearful 
punishments  which  had  been  inflicted  on  the  relations 
and  vassals  ofthe  guilty  parties.  Catherine  of  Wald- 
burg-Truchsess,  abbess  of  the  convent,  at  the  period  of 
the  Reformation,  counted  among  her  nuns  Beatrice  of 
Landenberg,  sister  of  the  Bishop  of  Constance,  Agnes 
of  MuUinen,  Catherine  of  Bonustetten,  aud  Margaret 
of  Watteville,  the  provost's  sister.  The  liberty  which 
this  convent  enjoyed,  and  which,  at  a  former  period, 
had  led  to  criminal  irregularities,  allowed  the  introduc- 
tion of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  the  writings  of  Luther 
aud  Zwingle.  In  a  short  time  mattera  assumed  an 
entirely  new  appearance.  Kear  the  cell  to  which 
Queen  Agnes,  the  daughter  of  Albert,  retired,  be- 
sprinkled with  blood  as  it  had  been  "Maydew,"  aud 
where,  spinning  wool  or  working  embroidery  to  orna- 
ment the  church,  she  had  mingled  acts  of  devotion  and 
thoughts  of  vengeance,  Margaret  Watteville  had  only 
thoughts  of  peace,  read  the  Scriptures,  and  mingled 
salutary  ingredients  to  compose  an  excellent  electuary. 
Then,  composing  herself  in  her  cell,  the  young  nun 
ventured  on  the  bold  step  of  writing  to  the  teacher  of 
Switzerland.  Her  letter  shews,  better  than  any  obser- 
vations could  do,  the  Christian  spirit  which  animated 
those  pious  females,  who  have  been,  and  still,  even  in 
our  day,  are  so  much  calumniated. 

"  Grac3  and  peace  through  the  Lord  Jesas  Christ, 
be  ever  given  and  multiplied  to  you,  by  God  our 
heavenly  Father,"  said  the  nun  of  Konigsfeld  to 
Zwingle.  "  Very  learned,  reverend,  and  dear  sir,  I 
beseech  you  not  to  be  offended  with  the  letter  which  I 
write  to  you.  The  love  which  is  in  Christ  urges  me 
to  do  it,  especially  since  I  have  learned  that  the  doc- 
trine of  salvation  grows  from  day  to  day  by  your 
preaching  of  the  Word  of  God.  Wherefore,  I  offer  up 
thanks  to  God  Almighty  for  enlightening  us  anew,  and 
sending  us,  by  His  Holy  Spirit,  so  many  heralds  of  His 


Holy  Word ;  at  the  same  time,  1  earnestly  beseech  Him 
to  clothe  you  with  His  might,  you  and  all  those  who 
proclaim  His  glad  tidings,  that  arming  you  r.gainst  all 
the  enemies  of  the  truth.  He  may  make  His  Divine 
Word  grow  in  every  heart.  Very  learned  sir,  I  ven- 
ture to  send  you  this  small  token  of  my  afTection. 
Deign  not  to  despise  it.  It  is  the  gift  of  Christian 
charity.  If  this  electuary  does  you  good,  aud  you  have 
any  wish  for  more,  let  me  know ;  it  would  give  me 
gi-eat  delight  to  do  something  that  might  be  agreeable 
to  you.  1  am  not  alone  in  this.  The  feeling  is  com- 
-mon  to  all  who  love  the  Gospel  in  our  convent  of 
Konigsfeld.  They  present  their  salutations  in  Jesus 
Christ  to  your  reverence ;  and  we  all  together,  without 
ceasing,  recommend  you  to  His  mighty  protection. 
"Saturday  before  Laitare,  1523." 

Such  was  the  pious  letter  of  the  nun  of  Konigsfeld 
to  the  teacher  of  Switzerland. 

A  convent,  into  which  Gospel  light  had  thus  pene- 
trated, could  not  long  continue  the  practices  of  monastic 
life.  Margaret  Watteville  and  her  sisters,  persuaded 
that  they  could  serve  God  better  in  their  families  than 
in  the  cloister,  asked  leaved  to  quit  it.  The  council  of 
Berne,  in  alarm,  first  tried  to  bring  the  nuns  to  reason; 
the  provincial  and  the  abbess  had  recourse  by  turns 
to  threats  and  promises.  But  the  sisters — Margaret, 
Agnes,  Catherine — and  their  friends  were  immove- 
able. Next,  the  rules  of  the  convent  were  relaxed. 
The  nuns  were  exempted  from  fasts  and  matins,  and 
their  income  was  increased ;  but  they  replied  to  the 
council .  "  It  is  not  the  liberty  of  the  flesh  we  ask,  but 
liberty  of  the  spirit.  We,  your  poor  and  innocent  pri- 
soners, ask  you  to  have  pity  on  us."  "  Our  prisoners! 
our  prisoners  !"  exclaimed  banneret  Krauchthaler  ;  "  I 
wont  have  them  to  be  my  prisoners."  This,  from  one 
of  the  firmest  supporters  of  convents,  decided  the 
council.  The  convent  was  thrown  open,  and  shortly 
after,  Catherine  Bonustetten  married  William  Diesbach. 

Still  Berne,  instead  of  frankly  arraying  itself  on  the 
side  of  the  reformers,  kept  a  certain  middle  course,  and 
endeavoured,  as  it  were,  to  hold  the  balance  between 
the  two  parties.  A  circumstance  caused  it  to  lay  aside 
this  equivocal  procedure.  Sebastian  Meyer,  lecturer 
to  the  Franciscans,  published  a  recantation  of  Roman 
errors,  which  produced  a  gi-eat  sensation.  Pourtraying 
the  life  of  convents,  he  said :  "  Their  inmates  live  more 
impurely,  fall  more  frequently,  rise  more  tardily,  walk 
more  uncertainly,  repose  more  dangerously,  shew  pity 
more  rarely,  reform  more  slowly,  die  more  desperately, 
and  are  punished  more  severely."  At  the  moment 
when  Meyer  was  thus  declaring  against  cloisters,  John 
Heim,  the  Dominican  reader,  was  exclaiming  from 
the  pulpit :  "  No .  Christ  did  not,  as  the  evangelicals 
teach,  give  satisfaction  to  His  Father  once  for  all. 
God  must  be  daily  reconciled  with  men  by  the  sacrifice 
of  the  mass,  and  good  works."  Two  citizens  who 
were  in  the  chiu-ch,  got  up,  and  said .  "  It  is  not  true." 
This  led  to  gi-eat  noise.  Heim  stood  mute.  Several 
urged  him  to  continue ;  but  he  came  down  from  the 
pulpit  without  finishing  his  discourse.  The  next  day 
the  great  council,  with  one  blow,  struck  both  Rome 
and  the  Reformation,  banishing  from  the  town  the  two 
great  controversialists,  Meyer  and  Heim.  "  They  are 
neither  clear  nor  muddy,"  it  was  said  of  the  Bernese, 


340 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


playing  on  the  word  Luther,  wliieli,  in  old  German, 
means  clem'. 

But  vain  was  the  attempt  to  suppress  the  Reforma- 
tion in  Berne.  It  was  making  progress  in  every  direc- 
tion. The  nuns  of  the  monastery  of  the  Isle  had  not 
forgotten  Haller's  visit.  Clara  iMay,  and  several  of 
her  friends,  anxiously  asking  what  they  ought  to  do, 
wrote  to  the  learned  Henry  Bullinger,  who  replied : 
"  St.  Paul  enjoins  young  women  not  to  make  vows, 
but  to  marry ;  and  not  live  in  idleness,  under  a  false 
semblance  of  piety,  (1  Tim.  v.  13,  14.)  Follow  Jesus 
in  humility,  charity,  patience,  purity,  and  honesty." 
Clara,  seeking  help  from  above,  resolved  to  follow  this 
advice,  and  quit  a  life  contrary  to  the  Word  of  God, 
invented  by  man,  and  fraught  with  seduction  and  sin. 
Her  father,  Bartholomew,  who  had  passed  fifty  years 
on  battle-fields  and  in  councils,  rejoiced  when  he  learned 
his  daughter's  resolution.     Clara  quitted  the  convent. 

The  provost,  Nicholas  Watteville,  whose  whole  inte- 
rest bound  him  to  the  Roman  hierarchy,  and  who,  on 
the  first  vacancy  in  Switzerland,  must  have  risen  to 
the  episcopal  bench,  also  renounced  his  honours,  his 
benefices,  and  his  hopes,  to  keep  a  pure  conscience ; 
and,  breaking  oif  all  the  ties  by  which  the  popes  had 
tried  to  entwine  him,  he  entered  the  state  of  marriage, 
instituted  by  God  from  the  beginning  of  the  creation. 
Nicholas  Watteville  married  Clara  May;  and  his  sister 
Margaret,  the  nun  of  Kbnigsfeld,  was,  about  the  same 
time,  united  to  Lucius  Tseharner  of  Coire. 


CHAPTER  VIIL 

Bale— CEcolampadius— He  goes  to  Augsliurg— He  Enters  the  Convent— He 
Returns  to  Seckingen— Returns  to  Bile— UWcU  Vou  Hutten— His 
Projeets— Last  Effort  of  Chivalry— Hutten  dies  at  Uffnau. 

Thus  everything  gave  intimation  of  the  triumphs  which 
the  Reformation  was  shortly  to  gain  in  Berne.  A  city 
of  no  less  importance,  and  at  this  time  the  Athens  of 
Switzerland — Bale — began  also  to  prepare  for  the  great 
combat  which  signalizes  the  sixteenth  century. 

Each  town  of  the  confederation  had  its  peculiar 
aspect.  Berne  was  the  city  of  great  families ;  and 
there  the  question  was  apparently  to  be  decided  in 
favour  of  the  party  who  should  gain  certain  of  the 
leading  men  of  the  city.  At  Zurich  the  ministers  of 
the  Word — as  Zwingle,  Leo  Juda,  Myconius,  Schmidt 
— drew  after  them  a  powerful  community  of  citizens. 
Lucerne  was  the  town  of  arms  and  military  enlistments ; 
Bale  that  of  knowledge  and  printing.  Erasmus,  the 
head  of  the  republic  of  letters  in  the  sixteenth  century, 
had  fixed  his  residence  in  it,  and,  preferring  the  liberty 
which  he  here  enjoyed,  to  the  seductive  invitations  of 
popes  and  kings,  had  become  the  centre  of  a  large 
circle  of  literary  men. 

But  a  humble,  meek,  and  pious  man,  inferior  in 
genius  to  Erasmus,  was  soon  to  exercise  over  the  town 
a  more  powerful  influence  than  that  of  the  prince  of 
schools.  Christopher  Utenhcim,  bishop  of  Constance, 
in  concert  with  Erasmus,  sought  to  gather  round 
him  men  fitted  to  accomplish  a  kind  of  intermediate 


reformation.  With  this  view  he  gave  an  invitation  to 
Capito  and  Oilcolampadius.  In  the  latter  there  was 
somewhat  of  the  monk,  which  often  annoyed  the  illus- 
trious philosopher.  But  CEcolampadius  soon  became 
enthusiastically  attached  to  him,  and,  perhaps,  would 
have  lost  all  his  independence  in  this  close  relation, 
had  not  Providence  removed  him  from  his  idol.  In 
1517,  he  returned  to  Weinsberg,  his  native  town,  and 
was  shocked  with  the  irregularities  and  profane  jests  of 
the  priests.  He  has  left  us  a  fine  memorial  of  the 
grave  spirit  which  then  animated  hmi,  in  his  celebrated 
work  "  On  the  Easter  Merriment,"  which  appears  to 
have  been  written  about  this  time. 


Having  been  called,  towards  the  end  of  1518,  to 
Augsburg,  as  preacher  of  the  cathedral,  he  found  this 
town  still  agitated  by  the  famous  interview  which  had 
taken  place  there  in  May,  between  Luther  and  the 
papal  legate.  It  was  necessary  to  take  a  part  for  or 
against;  QScolampadius,  without  hesitation,  declared 
for  the  reformer.  This  frankness  soon  raised  up  a 
keen  opposition  against  him,  and,  being  convinced  that 
his  timidity,  and  the  weakness  of  his  voice,  would  not 
.allow  him  to  succeed  in  the  world,  he  began  to  look 
around,  and  fixed  his  eye  on  a  neighbouring  convent  of 
monks  of  St.  Bridget,  celebrated  for  their  piety  and 
their  profound  and  liberal  studies.  Feeling  the  want 
of  repose,  leisure,  rest,  and  prayer,  he  turned  towai-d 
these  monks,  and  asked  them  :  "  Can  one  live  with  you 
according  to  the  Word  of  God  ?"  They  having  assured 
him  that  this  could  be  done,  Q3colampadius  crossed  the 
threshold  of  the  convent  on  the  23d  April,  1520,  but 


CECOLAMPADIUS  IN  THE  CONVENT. 


under  the  express  condition  that  he  was  free  should 
ever  the  scrviee  of  God  call  him  elsewhere. 

It  was  well  that  the  future  reformer  of  B;ile  should, 
like  Luther,  know  this  monastic  life,  which  was  the 
highest  expression  of  Roman  Catholicism.  But  he 
found  no  repose ;  his  friends  blamed  the  step  ;  and  he 
himself  declared  openly  that  Luther  was  nearer  the 
truth  than  his  opponents.  Hence  Dr.  Eck,  and  other 
Koman  doctors,  followed  him  with  menaces  even  into 
liis  calm  retreat. 

At  this  time  CEcolampadius  was  neither  one  of  the 
reformed,  nor  a  follower  of  Runic.  He  wished  a  kind 
of  purified  Catholicism,  which  nowhere  exists  in  his- 
toiy,  but  the  idea  of  which  has  served  many  as  a  kind 
of  stepping-stone.  He  set  about  correcting  the  statutes 
of  his  order  by  the  "Word  of  God.  "  I  pray  you,"  said 
he  to  the  friars,  "  don't  esteem  your  ordinances  more 
than  the  commandments  of  the  Lord."  The  monks 
replied:  "We  wish  no  other  rule  than  that  of  the 
Saviour.  Take  our  books,  and  mark,  as  in  the  imme- 
diate presence  of  Christ,  whatever  you  find  contrary  to 
His  Word."  CEcolampadius  began  the  task,  but  found 
it  painfully  wearisome.  "Almighty  God!"  he  ex- 
claimed, "  what  abomiuations  has  not  Rome  approved 
in  these  statutes !" 

No  sooner  had  he  pointed  out  some  of  these  than  the 
wrath  of  the  friars  began  to  be  kindled.  "Heretic!" 
they  exclaimed;  "  apostate!  you  deserve  a  dark  dungeon 
till  the  end  of  your  days."  Ho  was  excluded  from  the 
common  prayers.  But  the  danger  was  still  greater 
from  without.  Eck  and  his  people  had  not  abandoned 
tlieir  projects.  In  three  days,  he  was  told,  he  was  to 
be  arrested.  He  went  to  the  friars,  and  said  to  them : 
"AVill  you  give  me  up  to  assassins  f  The  monks 
were  speechless  and  irresolute.  They  were  unwilling 
either  to  save  or  to  destroy  him.  At  this  moment  some 
friends  of  Qilcolampadius  arrived  near  the  cloister  with 
horses  to  conduct  him  to  a  place  of  safety.  At  this 
news  the  monks  determined  on  allowing  the  departure 
of  a  brother  who  had  brought  trouble  into  their  con- 
vent. "Adieu!"  he  said,  and  was  free.  He  had  been 
nearly  two  years  in  the  cloister  of  St.  Bridget. 

CEcolampadius  was  saved :  at  length  he  again 
breathed.  Writing  to  a  friend,  he  says :  "  I  have 
sacrificed  the  monk  and  got  back  the  Christian."  But 
his  flight  from  the  convent  and  his  heretical  writings 
were  everywhere  known ;  everywhere  also  people  stood 
aloof  on  his  approach.  He  knew  not  what  to  do,  when, 
in  the  spring  of  1522,  Seckiugen  offered  him  an  asylum, 
which  he  accepted. 

His  spirit,  which  had  been  weighed  down  by  monastic 
bondage,  took  a  new  spring  amid  the  noble  wan-iors  of 
Ebernbiu-g.  "Christ  is  our  liberty,"  exclaimed  he, 
"  and  what  men  regard  as  the  greatest  misfortune — 
death  itself — is  to  us  true  gain."  He  forthwith  began 
to  read  the  Gospels  and  epistles  to  the  people  in  Ger- 
man. "As  soon  as  the  trumpets  resound,"  said  he, 
"  the  walls  of  Jericho  crumble  away." 

Thus,  in  a  fortress  on  the  banks  of  the  Rhine,  amid 
boisterous  knights,  the  most  modest  man  of  his  age 
anticipated  that  transformation  of  woi-ship  which  Chris- 
tendom was  soon  to  undergo.  Ebernburg,  however, 
was  too  narrow  for  him ;  and  he  felt  the  want  of  other 
society  than  that  of  military  men.     The  bookseller, 


Cratander,  iuvited  him  to  Bale.  Scckingen  gave  his 
permission ;  and  CEcoiamiiadius,  happy  to  revisit  his 
old  friends,  arrived  on  the  1  Gth  November,  1522.  After 
living  for  some  time  as  a  simple  scholar,  without  public 
vocation,  ho  was  appointed  vicar  of  the  church  of  St. 
Martin  ;  and  perhaps  it  was  this  call  to  a  humble  and 
miknown  employment  that  decided  the  Reformation  of 
Bale.  Wheuever  CEcolampadius  mounted  the  pulpit, 
an  immense  crowd  filled  the  chui-ch.  At  the  same 
time  the  public  lectures,  given  both  by  him  and 
Pellican,  were  crowned  with  so  much  success,  that 
even  Erasmus  was  obliged  to  exclaim:  "CEcolam- 
padius triumphs!" 

In  fact,  says  Zwingle,  this  meek  but  firm  man  shed 
around  him  the  sweet  savour  of  Christ,  and  all  who 
heard  him  made  progress  in  the  truth.  Often,  indeed, 
the  news  spread  that  he  would  soon  be  obliged  to  leave 
botli,  and  again  commence  his  adventurous  travels. 
His  friends,  particularly  Zwingle,  were  in  great  alarm; 
but  the  report  of  new  successes  gained  by  CEcolam- 
[)adius  soou  dissipated  their  fears,  and  strengthened 
their  hopes.  The  fame  of  his  labours  even  reached 
Wittemberg,  and  rejoiced  Luther,  who  daily  talked  of 
him  to  Melancthon.  Meantime  the  Saxon  reformer 
was  not  without  uneasiness.  Erasmus  was  at  Bale, 
and  Erasmus  was  the  friend  of  CEcolampadius.  Luther 
thought  it  his  duty  to  put  one  whom  he  loved  on  his 
guard.  "  I  much  fear,"  he  wrote,  "  that,  like  Moses, 
Erasmus  will  die  in  the  plains  of  Moab,  without  con- 
ducting us  into  the  land  of  promise." 

Erasmus  had  retired  to  Bale,  as  a  quiet  town, 
situated  in  the  centre  of  the  literary  movement,  and 
from  the  bosom  of  which  he  could,  by  means  of  the 
printing-press  of  Frobenius,  act  upon  France,  Germany, 
Switzerland,  Italy,  and  England.  But  he  did  not  like 
to  be  disturbed ;  and  if  he  felt  some  jealousy  at  CEcolam- 
padius, there  was  another  man  who  inspired  him  with 
still  greater  alarm.  Ulrich  von  Hiitten  had  followed 
CEcolampadius  to  Bitle.  For  a  long  time  he  had 
attacked  the  pope  as  one  knight  attacks  another. 
"  The  axe,"  said  he,  "is  already  laid  to  the  root  of  the 
tree.  Germans,  yield  not  at  the  first  brunt  of  the 
battle;  the  die  is  cast  —  the  enterprise  is  begun. 
Liberty  for  ever !"    He  had  abandoned  Latin,  and  now 


342 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORINIATION. 


VTOte  only  in  German ;  for  it  was  the  iseople  he  wished 
to  address. 

His  ideas  were  grand  and  noble.  An  annual  assembly 
of  bishops  was,  according  to  him,  to  regulate  the  affairs 
of  the  Chiu-ch.  A  Christian  constitution,  and,  above 
all,  a  Christian  spirit,  was  to  spread  from  Germany,  as 
formerly  from  Judea,  over  the  whole  world.  Charles 
V.  was  to  have  been  the  young  hero  destined  to  realize 
the  golden  age  ;  but  Iliitten's  hopes  in  him  having  been 
disappointed,  he  had  turned  to  Seckingen,  and  asked 
from  chivah-y  what  the  empire  refused.  Seckingen,  at 
the  head  of  the  feudal  nobility,  had  played  a  distin- 
guished part  in  Germany;  but  the  princes  had  shortly 
after  besieged  him  iu  his  castle  of  Landstein,  and  the 
new  engines,  cannon  and  bullets,  had  battered  down 
those  old  walls  which  had  been  accustomed  to  other 
kinds  of  assault.  The  taking  of  Landstein  had  been 
the  final  defeat  of  chivalry, — the  decisive  victory  of 
artillery  over  lances  and  iDucklers, — the  triumph  of 
modern  times  over  the  Middle  Ages.  Thus  the  last 
exploit  of  knighthood  was  to  be  iu  favour  of  the 
Reformation, — the  first  efforts  of  new  weapons  and 
wars  was  to  be  against  it.  The  steel-clad  men  who 
fell  under  the  unexpected  force  of  bullets,  and  lay 
among  the  ruins  of  Landstein,  gave  place  to  other 
knigl)  ts.  Other  feats  of  anus  were  about  to  commence. 
A  spiritual  chivalry  succeeded  that  of  the  Du  Guesclins 
and  Bayards ;  and  those  old  broken  battlements,  those 
ruined  walls,  those  aspiring  heroes,  proclaimed  still 
more  forcibly  than  Luther  was  able  to  do,  that  it  was 
not  by  such  allies  and  such  weapons  that  the  Gospel  of 
the  Prince  of  Peace  would  gain  the  victory. 

With  the  downfall  of  Landstein  and  chivahy,  had 
fallen  all  Hiitten's  hopes.  Over  Seckingen's  dead  body 
he  bade  adieu  to  all  the  glorious  days  of  which  his 
imagination  had  dreamed ;  and  losing  all  confidence  in 
man,  all  he  now  asked  was  a  brief  obscurity  and  repose. 
He  came  to  seek  them  in  Switzerland  beside  Erasmus. 
These  two  men  had  long  been  friends ;  but  the  rude 
and  boisterous  knight,  disdaining  the  judgment  of 
others,  always  used  to  lay  his  hand  on  his  sword,  and 
attacking  right  and  left  all  whom  he  met,  coidd  seldom 
move  in  accordance  with  the  delicate  and  timid  Erasmus, 
with  his  refined  manners,  his  smooth  and  polished 
address,  his  eagerness  for  approbation,  and  his  readi- 
ness to  make  every  sacrifice  to  obtain  it,  fearing  nothing 
in  the  world  so  much  as  a  dispute. 

Hiitten  having  arrived  at  Bale  a  poor  sick  fugitive, 
immediately  inquired  for  his  old  friend.  But  Erasmus 
trembled  at  the  thought  of  sharing  his  table  with  a 
man  under  the  ban  of  the  pope  and  the  emperor, — a 
man  who  woidd  care  for  no  one,  borrow  money  of  him, 
and,  doubtless,  bring  after  him  a  crowd  of  those  "  evan- 
gelists "  of  whom  Erasmus  was  always  becoming  more 
afraid.  He  refused  to  see  him ;  and  shortly  after,  the 
magistrates  of  Bale  begged  Hiitten  to  leave  the  town. 
Hiitten,  mortified  and  irritated  against  his  timid  friend, 
retired  to  Mulhausen,  and  published  a  violent  philippic 
against  Erasmus,  who  wrote  a  very  clever  reply.  The 
knight  had  seized  the  sword  with  both  hands,  and 
brought  it  down  with  force  upon  his  adversary ;  the 
scholar,  dexterously  slipping  aside,  had  returned  the 
strokes  of  the  sword  with  strokes  of  his  beak. 

HUtteu  behoved  again  to  fiy.     He  arrived  at  Zurich, 


where  he  met  with  a  generous  reception  from  the 
noble-minded  Zwingle.  But  cabals  obliged  him  to 
quit  this  town  also ;  and  after  passing  some  time  at  the 
baths  of  Pfeffers,  he  repaired  with  a  letter  from  the 
Swiss  reformer  to  the  house  of  pastor  John  Schnapp, 
who  dwelt  in  the  little  islet  of  Uffnau,  on  the  lake  of 
Zurich.  This  poor  minister  received  the  poor  exiled 
knight  with  the  most  touching  charity.  It  was  in  this 
peaceful  and  unknown  retreat,  after  a  most  agitated 
life, — banished  by  some,  pursued  by  others,  forsaken 
almost  by  all,  after  constantly  combating  superstition, 
yet,  as  it  would  seem,  without  even  possessing  the 
truth, — UWch  von  Hiitten,  one  of  the  most  remark- 
able minds  of  the  sixteenth  century,  died  in  obscurity 
towards  the  end  of  August,  1523.  The  poor  pastor, 
who  was  skilful  in  the  healing  art,  had  in  vain  given 
him  all  his  care.  With  him  died  chivalry.  He  left 
neither  money,  nor  furniture,  nor  books — nothing  in 
the  world  except  a  pen.  Thus  was  the  hand  of  iron 
broken  that  had  presumed  to  support  the  ai-k  of  God. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Erasmus  ami  Luther— Uncertainty  of  Erasmus— Luther  to  Erasmus— Work 
of  Erasmus  against  Luther  on  Free  Will— Tliree  Opinions— Effect  on 
Luther— Luther  on  Free  Will— The  Jausenists  and  the  Beformers— 
Homage  to  Erasmus— Rage  of  Erasmus— The  Three  Days. 

TnERE  was  a  man  iu  Gei-many  more  formidable  to 
Erasmus  than  the  unfortunate  knight :  tliis  was  Luther. 
The  moment  had  arrived  when  the  two  greatest  wrestlers 
of  the  age  were  to  measure  their  powers  in  close  com- 
bat. The  two  Reformations  at  which  they  aimed  were 
very  different.  While  Luther  desired  an  entire  Refor- 
mation, Erasmus,  a  friend  of  the  middle  course,  sought 
to  obtain  concessions  from  the  hierarchy  which  might 
again  unite  the  two  extreme  parties.  The  vacillation 
and  uncertainty  of  Erasmus  disgusted  Luther.  He 
said  to  him:  '-You  wish  to  walk  on  eggs  without 
crushing  them,  and  among  glasses  without  breaking 
them." 

At  the  same  time,  to  the  vacillation  of  Erasmus  he 
opposed  complete  decision.  "  We  Christians,"  said  he, 
"  ought  to  be  sure  of  our  doctrine,  and  know  how  to 
say  yes  or  no  without  hesitating.  To  attempt  to  hin- 
der us  from  affirming  with  perfect  conviction  what  we 
believe,  is  to  deprive  us  of  faith  itself.  The  Holy 
Spirit  is  not  a  sceptic.  He  has  written  in  our  hearts 
a  firm  and  powerful  assurance,  which  makes  us  as  cer- 
tain of  our  faith  as  we  are  of  life  itself." 

These  words  at  once  tell  us  on  which  side  strength 
lay.  In  order  to  accomplish  a  religious  transforma- 
tion, there  must  be  a  firm  and  living  faith.  A  salu- 
tary resolution  in  the  Church  never  will  proceed  from 
philosophical  views  and  human  opinions.  To  fertilize 
the  earth  after  long  drought,  the  lightning  must  pierce 
the  cloud,  and  the  reservoirs  of  heaven  be  opened. 
Criticism,  philosophy,  history,  even  may  prepare  the 
paths  for  true  faith,  but  cannot  supply  its  place.  In 
vain  do  you  clean  out  your  canals  and  repair  your 


ERASMUS  RESOLVES  TO  ATTACK  LUTHER. 


cmbankmenfi!,  so  long  as  the  w.ater  dcsccnda  not  from 

the  sky,     All  human  sciences  without  faith  are  only 

canals  without  water. 
'         WiuUevcr  might  be  the  essential  difference  between 

Luthor  and  Erasmus,  the  friends  of  Luther,  and  Lutlier 

himself,  long  hoped  to  sec  Erasmus  united  witli  them 
j     against  Rome.     Sayings  which  his  caustic  humour  lot 

fall  were  reported,  and  shewed  his  disagreement  with 
'  the  most  zealous  friends  of  Catholicism.  One  day,  for 
'     instance,  when   he  was  in   England,    he  had   a  keen 

discussion  with  Thomas  More   on   transubstantiation. 

"  Believe  that  you  have  the  body  of  Christ,"  said  More, 
I  "  and  you  have  it  really."  Erasmus  made  no  answer. 
I  Shortly  after  he  left  the  banks  of  the  Thames,  and 
j  More  lent  him  his  horse  to  the  sea-side ;  but  Erasmus 
I  took  it  with  him  to  the  Continent.  As  soon  as  More 
I  knew  of  it,  he  reproached  him  in  the  keenest  terms. 
1  Erasmus  only  answered  by  sending  him  the  following 
j     stanza : — 

Of  Christ's  body,  this  you  declared  the  creed ; 
"  Delicvo  you  have  it,  ond  you  have  indeed." 
Apply  the  doctrine  to  your  missing  steed ; 
Uclicvc  you  have  it,  and  you  have  indeed. 

Erasmus  had  appeared  in  this  character  not  only  in 
England  and  Germany.  At  Paris  it  was  said :  "Luther 
has  only  widened  the  opening  of  the  door  of  which 
Erasmus  had  previously  picked  the  lock." 

The  situation  of  Enismus  was  difficult.  In  a  letter 
to  Zwingle  he  says :  "  I  will  not  be  unfaithful  to  the 
cause  of  Christ,  at  least  in  so  far  as  the  age  will  per- 
mit." In  proportion  as  he  saw  Rome  bestirring  herself 
against  the  Reformation,  ho,  from  prudential  motives, 
drew  off.  He  was  applied  to  from  all  quarters — the 
pope,  the  emperor,  kings,  princes,  the  learned,  and 
even  his  most  intimate  friends,  urged  him  to  write 
against  the  reformer.  The  pope  ^\TOte  him:  "No 
work  would  be  more  agreeable  to  God — none  more 
wortliy  of  yourself  and  your  genius."  For  a  long  time 
Erasmus  resisted  these  solicitations  ;  he  could  not  dis- 
guise from  himself  that  the  cause  of  the  reformers  was 
the  cause  of  religion  as  well  as  of  letters.  Besides, 
Luther  was  an  opponent  with  whom  none  were  fond  of 
engaging,  and  Erasmus  thought  he  could  already  feel 
the  redoubled  and  sturdy  blows  of  the  champion  of 
Wittcmberg.  In  reply  to  a  theologian  of  Rome,  he 
wrote  :  "It  is  easy  to  say,  'Write  against  Luther;'  but 
it  is  a  task  pregnant  with  danger."  Thus  he  would, 
and  yet  would  not. 

This  irresolute  conduct  of  Erasmus  subjected  him  to 
the  attacks  of  the  most  violent  men  of  both  parties. 
Luthor  himself  found  it  dilUcult  to  reconcile  the  respect 
which  he  had  for  the  learning  of  Erasmus  with  the 
indignation  which  he  felt  at  his  cowardice.  He  resolved 
to  escape  from  this  painful  condition,  and  in  April, 
1521,  wrote  him  a  letter,  which  he  gave  to  the  care 
of  Camerarius.  "As  yet,"  said  he,  "you  have  not 
received  of  the  Lord  the  courage  necessary  to  march 
with  us  to  give  battle  to  the  papists.  AVc  bear  with 
your  weakness.  If  letters  flourish,  if  they  open  to  all 
the  treasiu-cs  of  the  Scriptures,  it  is  a  gift  for  which  wc 
arc  indebted,  under  God,  to  you, — a  magnificent  gift, 
for  which  our  thanksgivings  ascend  to  heaven.  But 
do  not  abandon  the  task  which  has  been  imposed  on 
yon,  in  order  to  pass  into  bur  camp.     No  doubt  your 


eloquence  and  genius  would  be  useful  to  us ;  but  since 
your  courage  fails  you,  remain  where  you  are,  I  could 
wish  that  our  people  would  allow  yoin-  old  age  to  slum- 
ber peacefully  in  the  Lord.  The  greatness  of  our  cause 
has  long  transcended  your  powers.  But,  on  the  other 
hand,  my  dear  Erasmus,  desist  from  throwing  at  us  so 
many  handfuls  of  pungent  salt,  which  you  know  so 
well  how  to  disguise  under  flowers  of  rhetoric.  It  is 
more  paiuful  to  be  slightly  bitten  by  Eriusmus,  than  to 
bo  ground  to  death  by  all  papists  put  together.  Con- 
tent yourself  with  being  the  spectator  of  our  tragedy: 
publish  no  book  against  me ;  I,  on  my  part,  will  pub- 
lish none  against  you." 

Thus  Luther,  the  man  of  war,  asked  for  concord : 
it  was  Erasmus,  the  man  of  peace,  who  disturbed  it. 

Erasmus  received  this  proceeding,  on  the  jjart  of  the 
reformer,  as  the  greatest  of  insults ;  and  if  he  had  not 
already  resolved  to  write  against  Luther,  it  is  probable 
that  he  resolved  now.  He  replied :  "  Perhaps  Erasmus, 
by  writing  against  you,  will  do  more  service  to  the 
Gospel  than  some  fools  who  write  for  you,  and  who  do 
not  allow  me  to  be  any  longer  a  mere  spectator  of  this 
tragedy." 

IJnt  he  had  other  motives  also. 

Henry  VIII.  of  England,  and  the  leading  men  of 
that  kingdom,  were  extremely  urgent  that  he  should 
declare  publicly  against  the  Reformation.  Erasmus, 
during  a  moment  of  courage,  allowed  the  promise  to 
be  forced  from  him.  Besides,  his  equivocal  situation 
had  become  a  continual  torment  to  him :  he  loved 
repose,  but  the  necessity  he  felt  of  continually  vindi- 
cating himself  troubled  his  life:  he  loved  glory;  but 
he  was  accused  of  fearing  Luther,  and  of  being  too 
feeble  to  answer  him :  he  was  accustomed  to  the  first 
place  ;  but  the  little  monk  of  Wittembcrg  had  dethroned 
the  mighty  Erasmus.  He  behoved,  then,  by  a  coura- 
geous act,  to  conquer  back  the  place  which  he  had  lost. 
AU  ancient  Christendom  was  imploring  him  to  do  so. 
Ability,  and  the  greatest  reputation  of  the  age,  were 
wanted  to  oppose  the  Reformation.     Erasmus  yielded. 

But  what  weapon  was  he  going  to  employ?  "Will 
he  cause  the  thunders  of  the  Vatican  to  roar  ?  Will  he 
defend  abuses  which  arc  the  disgrace  of  the  papacy? 
Erasmus  coidd  not  do  so.  The  great  movement  by 
which  men's  minds  were  agitated,  after  the  death-like 
lethargy  which  had  lasted  for  so  many  ages,  filled  him 
with  joy,  and  he  would  have  feared  to  trammel  it. 
Not  being  able  to  act  as  the  champion  of  Roman 
Catholicism,  in  regard  to  the  additions  which  it  has 
made  to  Christianity,  he  undertook  to  defend  it  in  what 
it  has  cut  off.  In  his  attack  upon  Luther,  Erasmus 
selected  the  point  in  which  Catholicism  is  blended  with 
rationalism — the  doctrine  of  free  will,  or  of  the  natm-al 
power  of  man.  Thus,  while  undertaking  the  defence 
of  the  Church,  Erasmus  pleased  the  men  of  the  world  ; 
while  battling  for  the  pope,  he  battled  also  for  the 
philosophers.  It  has  been  said  that  he  was  awkwardly 
trammelled  by  an  obscure  and  useless  question.  Luther, 
the  reformers,  and  their  age,  thought  otherwise.  AVe 
agree  with  them.  "  I  must  acknowledge,"  said  Luther, 
"  that  in  this  combat  you  are  the  only  one  who  has 
seized  your  opponent  by  the  throat.  I  thank  you  with 
all  my  heart,  for  I  like  better  to  deal  with  that  subject 
than  with  all  those  secondary  questions  of  the  pope. 


344 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


purgatory,  auj  indulgences,  with  wliich,  till  this  hour, 
the  enemies  of  the  Gospel  have  pestered  me." 

His  own  experience,  aud  the  attentive  study  of  the 
Holy  Scriptures  aud  of  St.  Augustine,  had  convinced 
Luther  that  the  actual  powers  of  man  so  incline  him 
to  evil,  that  all  he  can  do  of  himself  is  to  attain  to  a 
certain  external  decency,  altogether  insufficient  in  the 
eyes  of  the  Deity.  At  the  same  time  he  had  learned 
that  God  gives  a  true  righteousness,  by  carrying  on 
the  work  of  faith  through  operation  of  the  Holy  Spirit. 

This  doctrine  had  become  the  principle  of  his  reli- 
gious life,  the  predominant  idea  in  his  theology,  and 
the  point  on  which  the  whole  Reformation  turned. 

While  Luther  maintained  that  everything  good  in 
man  came  from  God,  Erasmus  took  the  side  of  those 
who  thought  that  this  good  came  from  man  himself. 
God  or  man  .  .  . — good  or  evil  .  .  .  . — these, 
surely,  are  not  paltry  questions ;  if  there  are  such 
questions,  they  must  be  sought  for  elsewhere. 

In  the  autumn  of  1524,  Erasmus  published  his 
famous  work,  entitled,  "Disquisition  on  Free  Will." 
No  sooner  had  it  appeared  than  the  philosopher  could 
scarcely  credit  his  own  courage.  He  trembled  while, 
with  eyes  fixed  on  the  arena,  he  beheld  the  gauntlet 
which  he  had  just  thrown  down  to  his  opponent.  "■  The 
die  is  cast,"  wrote  he,  with  emotion,  to  Henry  VIII., 
"  the  book  on  Free  Will  has  appeared.  .  .  .  This, 
believe  mo,  is  a  daring  act.  I  expect  to  be  stoned. 
.  .  .  But  I  console  myself  by  the  example  of  your 
majesty,  whom  the  wrath  of  those  people  has  not 
spared." 

His  alarm  soon  increased  to  such  a  degree,  that  he 
bitterly  regretted  the  step  he  had  taken.  "  Why  was 
I  not  allowed,"  he  exclaimed,  "  to  spend  my  age  in  the 
garden  of  the  Muses?  Here  I  am,  at  sixty,  pushed 
violently  forward  into  the  arena,  and  instead  of  the 
lyre,  holding  the  cestus  and  net."  .  .  .  "I  know," 
said  he  to  the  Bishop  of  Rochester,  "  that  iu  writing  on 
free  will,  I  was  not  in  my  sphere.  .  .  .  You  con- 
gratulate me  on  my  triumphs.  .  .  .  Ah,  I  know 
not  in  what  I  triumph !  The  faction  (the  Refonnatiou) 
is  daily  increasing.  Was  it,  then,  my  destiny  that,  at 
my  age,  I  was  to  be  transformed  from  a  friend  of  the 
Muses  into  a  miserable  gladiator?" 

It  was  much,  doubtless,  for  the  timid  Erasmus  to 
have  taken  the  field  against  Luther.  But  still  he  was 
far  from  having  given  proof  of  great  hardihood.  He 
seems,  in  his  book,  to  attribute  little  to  the  will  of  man, 
and  to  leave  the  greater  part  to  Divine  grace ;  but, 
at  the  same  time,  he  chose  his  arguments  in  such  a  way 
as  to  make  it  be  believed,  that  man  does  all,  and  God 
does  nothing.  Not  daring  to  express  his  thoughts  dis- 
tinctly, he  affirms  one  thing,  and  proves  another ;  leav- 
ing one  at  liberty  to  suppose  that  he  believed  what  he 
proved,  and  not  what  he  affirmed. 

He  distinguishes  three  opinions,  opposed  in  different 
degrees  to  that  of  Pelagius.  "  Some,"  says  he,  "  think 
that  man  can  neither  will  nor  begin,  far  less  accom- 
plish, anything  that  is  good,  without  special  and  con- 
tinual help  from  Divine  grace.  This  opinion  seems 
probable  enough.  Others  teach  that  the  will  of  man 
has  power  only  to  do  evil,  and  that  grace  alone  performs 
in  us  anything  that  is  good ;  aud,  lastly,  there  are  some 
who  maintain  that  there  never  was  any  free  will,  either 


in  man  or  angels,  either  in  Adam  or  in  us,  whether 
before  or  after  grace ;  but  that  God  produces  in  man 
both  good  or  evil,  and  that  everything  which  takes 
place  happens  through  absolute  necessity." 

Erasmus,  while  seeming  to  admit  the  first  of  these 
opinions,  employs  arguments  which  militate  against 
it,  aud  which  may  be  employed  by  the  most  decided 
Pelagian.  Thus,  while  referring  to  the  passages  of 
Scripture  in  which  God  presents  man  with  a  choice  of 
good  and  evil,  he  adds :  "  Man,  then,  must  will  and 
choose ;  for  it  would  be  ridiculous  to  say  to  any  one. 
Choose !  if  it  were  not  in  his  power  to  do  so." 

Luther  was  not  afraid  of  Erasmus.  "  Truth,"  said 
he,  "  is  mightier  than  eloquence.  The  victory  belongs 
to  him  who  lisps  the  truth,  and  not  to  him  who  is 
eloquent  in  favom-  of  falsehood." 

But  when  he  received  the  work  of  Erasmus,  he  found 
the  book  so  feeble,  that  he  hesitated  to  answer  it. 
"  What !"  said  he  to  him,  "  so  much  eloquence  in  so 
bad  a  cause ;  one  would  say  it  was  a  naan  serving  up 
mire  and  filth  on  gold  and  silver  jjlate.  It  is  impossible 
to  get  hold  of  you  anywhere.  You  are  like  an  eel 
which  slips  between  the  fingers;  or  like  the  Proteus 
of  the  poets,  who  changes  in  the  very  hand  of  the  per- 
son who  is  trying  to  bind  him." 

Meanwhile,  as  Luther  did  not  answer,  the  monks 
and  scholastic  theologians  began  to  shout:  "Ah,  well! 
where  is  now  your  Luther?  Where  is  the  great  Mac- 
cabeus ?  Let  him  enter  the  lists !  Let  him  come  for- 
ward !  Ah  !  ah  1  he  has  at  length  found  the  man  that 
was  wanted  for  him.  He  now  knows  how  to  keep  in 
the  back-ground.     He  has  learnt  to  hold  his  tongue." 

Luther  saw  that  he  behoved  to  answer ;  but  it  was 
not  till  the  end  of  1525  that  he  began  to  prepare ;  and 
Melancthon  having  intimated  to  Erasmus  that  Luther 
would  use  moderation,  the  philosopher  was  quite  asto- 
nished. "  If  I  have  written  with  moderation,"  said 
he,  "  it  is  my  natural  turn ;  but  Luther  has  the  indig- 
nation of  the  son  of  Pcleus,  (Achilles.)  Aud  how  could 
it  be  otherwise  ?  When  a  ship  encounters  a  tempest, 
like  that  which  has  risen  against  Luther,  what  anchor, 
what  ballast,  what  helm,  would  not  be  necessary  to 
enable  it  to  keep  its  course  !  Hence,  if  he  answers  me 
in  a  manner  not  in  accordance  with  his  character, 
these  sycophants  will  exclaim  that  we  understand  one 
another."  We  will  see  that  Erasmus  was  soon  to  be 
disencumbered  of  these  fears. 

The  doctrine  of  an  election  by  God,  the  only  cause 
of  man's  salvation,  had  always  been  dear  to  the 
reformer ;  but,  till  now,  he  had  only  considered  it  in 
a  practical  point  of  view.  In  his  reply  to  Erasmus,  it 
presented  itself  to  him  in  a  speculative  form;  and  he 
laboured  to  prove,  by  the  arguments  which  seemed  to 
him  most  conclusive,  that  God  does  everything  in  the 
conversion  of  man,  and  that  our  heart  is  so  alienated 
from  the  love  of  God,  that  every  sincere  inclination  to 
good  can  only  proceed  from  the  regenerating  agency  of 
the  Holy  Spirit. 

"  To  call  our  will  a  free  will,"  said  he,  "  is  to  do  like 
princes,  who  string  together  a  long  series  of  titles,  call- 
ing themselves  the  lords  of  such  and  such  kingdoms, 
such  and  such  principalities,  and  distant  islands,  (as 
Rhodes,  Cyprus,  and  Jerusalem.)  while  they  have  not 
the  least  power  over  them."     At  the  same  time,  Luther 


LUTHER'S  REPLY  TO  ERASMUS. 


345 


here  makes  an  important  distinction,  wliieli  slicws  well 
that  he  did  not  participate  in  the  tliird  ojjiiiion  which 
Era.srans  had  described  and  imputed  to  him.  "The 
will  of  man,"  says  he,  "  may  be  called  a  free  will,  not 
in  relation  to  what  is  above  it, — tiiat  is  to  say,  God; 
but  in  relation  to  what  is  beneath, — that  is  to  say,  the 
kings  of  the  earth.  When  my  goods,  my  fields,  my 
house,  my  farm,  are  in  question,  I  can  act,  make,  and 
manage  freely.  But  in  tilings  which  regard  salvation, 
man  is  captive ;  he  is  subject  to  the  will  of  God,  or 
rather  to  that  of  the  devil."  "Among  all  the  teachers 
of  free  will,"  exclaims  he,  "  shew  me  a  single  one  who 
has  in  himself  strength  sufficient  to  endure  a  little 
injury,  a  jiassionate  attack,  or  even  a  look,  from  his 
enemy,  and  to  do  it  joyfully,  then — without  even  ask- 
ing him  to  abandon  his  body,  his  goods,  his  honour, 
and  all  things — I  declare  that  you  have  gained  your 
cause." 

Luther's  eye  was  too  piercing  not  to  detect  the  con- 
tradictions into  which  his  opponent  had  fallen.  Ac- 
cordingly he  proceeded,  in  his  reply,  to  enclose  the 
philosopher  in  the  net  in  which  he  had  placed  himself. 
"  If  the  passages  which  you  quote,"  said  he,  "  prove 
that  it  is  easy  for  us  to  do  good,  why  do  you  dispute? 
AVhat  need  have  we  of  Christ  and  the  Holy  Spirit? 
Christ  lias  done  foolishly  in  shedding  His  blood  to  pro- 
cure us  a  strength  which  we  already  have  from  nature." 
In  fact  the  passages  quoted  by  Erasmus  were  to  be 
interpreted  in  quite  a  different  sense.  This  much 
debated  question  is  clearer  than  at  fii-st  sight  it  seems. 
When  the  Bible  says  to  man,  "  Choose,"  it  is  because 
it  presupposes  the  assistance  of  the  grace  of  God,  by 
which  alone  he  can  do  what  it  commands.  God,  in 
giving  the  command,  gives  also  the  power  to  perform 
it.  When  Clirist  said  to  Lazarus,  "  Coiue  forth,"  it 
was  not  because  Lazarus  could  raise  himself ;  but 
because,  in  commanding  him  to  come  forth  from  the 
tomb,  He  gave  him  power  to  do  so,  and  accompanied 
Ilis  word  with  creative  power.  He  speaks,  and  it  is 
done.  Besides,  it  is  quite  true  that  the  man  whom 
God  addresses  must  will, — it  is  himself  that  wills,  and 
not  another ;  but  still  he  can  receive  this  will  only  from 
God.  It  must,  no  doubt,  be  in  the  man  ;  and  this  com- 
mand which  God  addresses  to  him,  and  which,  accord- 
ing to  Erasmus,  proves  man's  power,  so  reconcilable 
with  the  agency  of  God,  that  it  is  precisely  the  means 
by  which  this  agency  is  carried  on.  God  says  to  man, 
"  Be  converted ;"  and  while  so  saying,  converts  him. 

But  the  view  on  which  Luther  especially  dwelt  in 
his  reply  was,  that  the  passages  quoted  by  Erasmus 
are  designed  to  teach  men  what  they  ought  to  do,  and 
their  incapability  of  doing  it ;  but  not  at  all  to  acquaint 
them  with  this  fancied  power  which  is  assigned  to  them. 
"  How  often  does  it  happen,"  says  Luther,  "  that  a 
father  calls  his  little  child  to  him,  saying:  'My  sou, 
will  you  come  ?— come,  come  then  !'  in  order  the  child 
may  learn  to  ciy  for  help,  and  allow  itself  to  be  carried 
by  him." 

After  combating  the  arguments  of  Erasmus  in  favour 
of  free  will,  Luther  defends  his  own  against  the  attacks 
of  liis  opponent.  "  Dear  Diatribe,"  says  he,  ironically, 
"  mighty  heroine,  who  pretend  to  have  overthrown  the 
Word  of  the  Lord  in  the  Gospel  of  St.  John,  Without 
me  ye  can  do  NOTHING, — which  you,  however,  regard  as 


the  strongest  in  my  power,  and  call  the  Achilles  of 
Luther, — listen  to  me  for  a  little.  At  all  events,  until 
you  prove  that  this  word  nothinij  not  only  may,  but 
must,  signify  some  little  thiiiy,  all  your  high  words,  all 
your  splendid  illustrations,  have  no  more  effect  than 
chips  of  straw  would  have  in  extinguishing  an  immense 
conflagration.  What  have  we  to  do  with  the  assertions 
— '■2'his  may  mean;  that  may  be  niulerstood  thus — when 
you  are  bound  to  demonstrate  that  it  must  be  so  under- 
stood.' If  you  fail  to  do  so,  we  take  the  declaration 
in  its  natural  sense,  and  laugh  at  all  your  illustrations, 
your  great  preparations,  and  pompous  triumph." 

At  length,  in  a  second  part,  Luther  shews,  and 
always  by  Scripture,  that  it  is  the  grace  of  God  that 
does  all.  "In  one  word,"  says  he  at  the  end,  "since 
Scripture  uniformly  opposes  Christ  to  all  that  is  not 
Christ, — since  it  declares  that  whatever  is  not  Christ 
and  in  Christ,  is  under  the  power  of  error,  darkness, 
the  devil,  death,  sin,  and  the  wrath  of  God, — it  follows 
that  all  the  passages  of  the  Bible  which  speak  of  Christ 
are  contrary  to  free  will.  Now,  these  passages  are 
innumerable ;  the  sacred  volume  is  filled  with  them." 

Wc  see  that  the  discussion  between  Luther  and 
Erasmus  is  the  same  as  that  which,  a  century  later, 
took  place  between  the  Jausenists  and  the  Jesuits — 
between  Pascal  and  Molina.  To  what  is  it  owing,  that 
while  the  Reformation  has  had  such  mighty  results, 
Jansenism,  defended  by  the  most  distinguished  geniuses, 
has  been  suppressed  without  force?  It  is  because 
Jansenism  went  back  to  St.  Augustine,  and  leant  upon 
the  Fathers ;  whereas  the  Reformation  went  back  to 
the  Bible,  and  leant  upon  the  Word  of  God.  It  is 
because  Jansenism  made  a  compromise  with  Rome, 
and  wished  to  establish  a  medium  between  truth  and 
error ;  the  Reformation  confided  in  God  alone,  cleared 
away  the  soil,  removed  all  the  human  rubbish  which 
had  covered  it  for  ages,  and  laid  bare  the  primitive 
rock.  To  stop  midway  is  useless  labour ;  in  all  things 
it  is  proper  to  go  forward  to  the  end.  Hence,  while 
Jansenism  has  passed  away,  the  destinies  of  the  world 
are  bound  up  with  evangelical  Christianity. 

Luther,  after  keenly  refuting  the  error,  paid  a  bril- 
liant, but  perhaps  somewhat  sarcastic,  homage  to  the 
person  of  Erasmus.  "  I  confess,"  said  he,  "  that  you 
are  a  great  mau.  Where  were  more  learning,  intellect, 
ability  in  writiug  and  speaking  ever  seen  ?  For  my- 
self, I  have  nothing  of  the  kind;  there  is  only  one 
thing  from  which  I  can  derive  any  glory.  ...  I 
am  a  Christian.  Jlay  God  raise  you  in  the  knowledge 
of  the  Gospel  infinitely  above  me,  so  that  you  may 
surpass  me  as  much  in  this  respect  as  you  already  do 
in  every  other." 

Erasmus  was  beside  himself  on  reading  Luther's 
reply;  he  would  see  nothing  in  his  compliments  but  the 
honey  of  a  poisoned  cup,  or  the  embrace  of  a  serpent, 
lie  immediately  wrote  to  the  Elector  of  Saxony, 
demanding  justice  ;  and  Luther  having  tried  to  appease 
him,  he  laid  aside  his  ordinary  habit,  and  as  one  of  his 
most  ardent  apologists  expresses  it,  began  "  to  inveigh 
in  a  broken  voice  and  grey  hairs." 

Erasmus  was  vanquished.  Moderation  had  been  his 
forte,  and  he  had  now  lost  it.  The  energy  of  Luther 
he  could  only  supply  by  rage.  The  wise  mau  wanted 
wisdom.     He  replied  publicly  in  his  "  Hyperaspistes," 


MG 


IIISTOEY  OP  THE  REFORMATION. 


accusing  the  reformer  of  barbarism,  falsehood,  and 
blasphemy.  Tlic  philosopher  even  went  the  length  of 
prophesying.  "I  prophesy,"  said  he,  "that  no  name 
xmder  the  sun  will  be  more  execrated  than  that  of 
Luther."  This  prophecy,  after  a  lapse  of  three  cen- 
turies, -was  answered  on  the  jubilee  of  1817,  by  the 
enthusiastic  acclamations  of  the  whole  Protestant  world. 
Thus,  while  Luther,  with  the  Bible,  placed  himself 
at  the  head  of  his  age,  Erasmus,  iu  opposing  him, 
wished  to  occupy  the  same  place  with  philosophy. 
"Which  of  the  two  leaders  has  been  followed  ?  Both, 
no  doubt.  Nevertheless,  the  influence  of  Luther  on 
the  nations  of  Christendom  has  been  infinitely  greater 
than  that  of  Erasmus.  Even  those  who  did  not  well 
understand  the  matter  in  dispute,  seeing  the  conviction 
of  one  of  the  antagonists,  and  the  doubts  of  the  other, 
could  not  help  believing  that  the  former  was  in  the 
right  and  the  latter  in  the  wrong.  It  has  been  said 
that  the  three  last  centuries — the  sixteenth,  seventeenth, 
and  eighteenth — may  be  conceived  as  an  immense  battle 
of  three  days.  We  willingly  adopt  the  happy  expres- 
sion, but  not  the  part  which  is  assigned  to  each  day. 
The  same  task  is  given  to  the  sixteenth  and  to  the 
eighteenth  century.  The  first  day  and  the  last  it  is 
philosophy  that  breaks  the  ranks.  The  sixteenth  cen- 
tury philosophical !  Strange  mistake  !  No ;  each  of 
these  days  had  a  distinct  and  striking  characteristic. 
The  first  day  of  battle,  it  was  the  Word  of  God  and 
the  Gospel  of  Christ  that  triumphed.  Then  Eome  was 
defeated,  as  well  as  philosophy,  in  the  person  of  Eras- 
mus and  her  other  representatives.  The  second  day, 
we  admit  Rome,  her  authority,  her  discipline,  and  her 
doctrine  reappear,  and  arc  on  the  eve  of  triumphing 
by  the  intrigues  of  a  celebrated  society  and  the  power 
of  the  scaffold,  as  well  as  by  some  characters  of  great 
veracity  and  men  of  distinguished  genius.  The  third 
day,  humau  philosophy  rises  up  in  all  its  pride ;  and 
finding  not  the  Gospel,  but  Eome,  on  the  field  of  battle, 
makes  easy  work,  and  soon  can-ies  all  the  entrench- 
ments. The  first  day  is  the  battle  of  God,  the  second 
the  battle  of  the  priest,  and  the  third  the  battle  of 
reason.  "What  will  be  the  fourth?  The  confused 
mclce,  we  think,  the  furious  battle  of  all  the  powers 
together,  to  terminate  in  the  triumph  of  Him  to  whom 
the  triumph  belongs. 


CHAPTER  X. 

TIm!  Throe  Adversaries— Source  of  the  Truth — Anabaptism — Anabaptism 
and  Zwingle— Constitution  of  the  Church— Prison— The  Prophet  Blau- 
roclt— Anabaptism  at  St  Gall— An  Anabaptist  Family— Dispute  at 
Zurich— The  Limits  of  the  Reformation — Punishment  of  the  Anabaptists. 

But  the  battle  which  the  Reformation  fought  on  the 
grand  day  of  the  sixteenth  century  was  not  one  only — 
it  was  manifold.  The  Reformation  had  at  once  several 
enemies  to  combat.  After  protesting  against  the 
decretals  and  supremacy  of  the  popes,  next  against  the 
cold  apothegms  of  the  rationalists,  philosophers,  and 
schoolmen,  it  at  the  same  time  stood  up  against  the 


reveries  of  enthusiasm,  and  the  hallucinations  of  mysti- 
cism— opposing  to  these  three  powers  at  once  the 
sword  and  buckler  of  Divine  revelation. 

It  must  be  admitted  that  there  is  a  great  resemblance, 
a  remarkable  unity,  in  these  three  adverse  powers. 
The  false  systems  which  in  all  ages  are  most  opposed 
to  evangelical  Christianity,  are  always  characterized 
by  their  making  religious  knowledge  proceed  from 
within  the  man  himself.  Rationalism  makes  it  proceed 
from  reason ;  mysticism,  from  some  internal  light ; 
Roman  Catholicism,  from  an  illumination  of  the  pope. 
These  three  errors  seek  the  truth  in  man  ;  evangelical 
Christianity  seeks  it  wholly  in  God.  While  rationalism, 
mysticism,  and  Roman  Catholicism,  admit  a  permanent 
inspiration  in  certain  persons  like  ourselves,  and  thus 
open  the  door  to  all  errors  and  all  variations,  evan- 
gelical Christianity  recognises  this  inspiration  only  in 
the  writings  of  the  apostles  and  prophets,  and  alone 
exhibits  that  grand,  and  beautiful,  and  living  unity, 
which  flows  always  the  same  through  all  ages. 

The  work  of  the  Reformation  was  to  re-establish 
the  rights  of  the  Word  of  God,  in  opposition  not  only 
to  Roman  Catholicism,  but  also  rationalism  and  to 
mysticism  itself. 

The  fanaticism  of  the  Anabaptists  being  extinguished 
in  Germany  by  Luther's  return  to  Wittemberg,  reap- 
peared in  force  in  Switzerland,  threatening  the  edifice 
which  Zwingle,  Haller,  and  Qilcolampadius,  had  built 
on  the  Word  of  God.  Thomas  Miiuzer,  when  obliged 
to  quit  Saxony  in  1521,  had  arrived  on  the  frontiers 
of  Switzerland.  Conrad  Grebel,  whose  restless  and 
ardent  temper  we  have  already  mentioned,  had  become 
connected  with  him,  as  well  as  Felix  Mantz,  son  of  a 
canou,  and  some  other  inhabitants  of  Zui'ich.  Grebel 
had  immediately  tried  to  gain  Zwingle.  In  vain  had 
Zwingle  gone  farther  than  Luther.  He  saw  a  party 
rising  that  wished  to  go  still  farther  than  he.  "  Let 
us,"  said  Grebel  to  him,  '•  form  a  community  of  true 
believers, — for  to  them  alone  the  promise  belongs ;  and 
let  us  establish  a  church  in  which  there  is  no  sin." 
"  We  cannot,"  said  Zwingle,  "  introduce  heaven  upon 
earth;  and  Christ  has  taught  us  that  we  must  allow  the 
tares  to  grow  among  the  wheat." 

Grebel,  having  failed  with  Zwingle,  was  desirous 
to  appeal  to  the  people.  "The  whole  Zurich  com- 
munity," said  he,  "must  decide  supremely  on  matters 
of  faith."  But  Zwingle  dreaded  the  influence  which 
radical  enthusiasts  might  exercise  over  a  large  assembly. 
He  thought  that,  except  iu  unusual  cases,  where  the 
people  might  be  called  to  give  in  their  adherence,  it 
was  better  to  confide  religious  interests  to  a  college, 
which  might  bo  considered  as  the  elite  of  the  represen- 
tatives of  the  Church.  Consequently,  the  council  of 
Two  Hundred,  which  exercised  political  supremacy  in 
Zurich,  was  also  entrusted  with  ecclesiastical  power, 
under  the  express  condition  that  they  should  conform 
in  every  respect  to  the  rule  of  Holy  Scripture.  No 
doubt  it  would  have  been  better  to  constitute  the 
Church  fully,  and  call  upon  it  to  name  its  own  repre- 
sentatives, who  should  be  entrusted  only  with  the 
religious  interests  of  the  people  ;  for  he  who  is  capable 
of  managing  the  interests  of  the  State,  may  be  very 
unfit  to  manage  those  of  the  Church,  and  vice  versa. 
Nevertheless,  the  inconveniences  were  not  so  serious 


ANABAPTISM  AND  ZWINGLE. 


then  as  they  might  be  at  this  time,  as  tlie  members  of 
tlie  grand  council  had  entered  frankly  into  the  religious 
movement.  Be  this  as  it  may,  Zwingle,  while  appeal- 
ing to  the  Church,  avoided  bringing  it  too  much  upon 
the  stage,  and  preferred  the  roprescutatiou  system  to 
the  active  sovereignty  of  the  people. 

This  is  what  the  states  of  Europe,  after  the  lapse  of 
three  centuries,  are  doing  in  the  political  sphere. 
Repulsed  by  Zwingle,  G rebel  turned  in  another  direc- 
tion. Ronbli,  superannuated  pastor  at  Bale,  Brijdtlein, 
pastor  at  ZoUikon,  and  Louis  Ilerzer,  gave  him  a  cor- 
dial reception.  They  determined  to  form  an  indepen- 
dent community  in  the  midst  of  the  great  community 
— a  church  in  the  midst  of  the  Church.  A  new  bap- 
tism was  to  enable  them  to  reassemble  their  congrega- 
tion, composed  e.vclusively  of  true  believers.  "The 
baptism  of  infants,"  said  they,  "  is  a  horrible  abomina- 
tion— a  manifest  impiety,  invented  by  the  evil  spirit, 
and  by  Nicholas  II.,  pope  of  Rome." 

The  council  of  Zurich  taking  the  alarm,  ordered  a 
public  discussion;  and  the  Anabaptists  refusing  to 
abjure  their  errors,  some  Zurichers  among  them  were 
imprisoned,  and  some  strangers  bauisiicd.  But  perse- 
cution only  increased  their  fervour.  "  Not  with  words 
only,"  they  exclaimed,  "but  with  our  blood  arc  we 
ready  to  bear  testimony  to  the  truth  of  our  cause." 
Some,  girding  themselves  with  cords  or  osier-twigs, 
wont  up  and  down  the  streets  crying:  "A  few  days, 
and  Zurich  will  be  destroyed !  Woe  to  thee,  Zurich ! 
woe !  woe !"  Several  used  blasphemous  expressions. 
"  Baptism,"  they  said,  "  is  a  bath  for  a  dog :  it  is  of  no 
more  use  to  baptize  a  child  than  to  baptize  a  cat." 
Simple  and  pious  people  were  moved  and  amazed. 
Fourteen  men,  among  them  Felix  Mantz  and  seven 
women,  were  seized  and  put  on  bread  and  water  in  the 
heretics'  tower.  After  a  fortnight's  confinement,  they 
succeeded  in  raising  some  planks  during  the  night,  and, 
assisting  one  another,  made  their  escape.  "An  angel," 
they  said,  "had  opened  the  prison  and  let  them  out." 

A  monk  who  had  escaped  from  his  convent — 
George  Jacob  dc  Coirc,  surnamcd  Blaurock,  because 
it  seems  he  always  wore  a  blue  coat — ^joined  them,  and 
was,  on  account  of  his  eloquence,  called  the  second  St. 
Paul.  This  bold  monk  went  from  place  to  place,  by 
his  imposing  fervour  constraining  people  to  receive  his 
baptism.  One  Sunday  at  Zollikon,  while  the  deacon 
was  preaching,  the  impetuous  Anabaptist  interrupting 
him,  exclaimed,  in  a  voice  of  thunder:  "/<  is  written, 
Mji  house  shall  he  culled  the  house  ofprai/ei;  hut  ye  have 
made  it  a  den  of  thieves."  Then  lifting  his  staff  which 
he  had  in  his  hand,  he  violently  struck  four  blows. 

"  I  am  a  door,"  exclaimed  he ;  "  whosoever  will  enter 
in  by  me  will  find  pasture.  I  am  a  good  shepherd. 
My  body  I  give  to  the  prison ;  my  life  I  give  to  the 
sword,  the  scaffold,  or  the  wheel.  I  am  the  beginning 
of  baptism  and  of  the  bread  of  the  Lord." 

Zwingle  still  opposing  the  torrent  of  Anabaptism  in 
Zurich,  St.  Gall  was  soon  inundated  by  it.  Grcbel 
arrived,  and  was  received  by  the  brethren  with  accla- 
mation ;  and  on  Palm  Sunday,  h.aviug  repaired  with 
a  number  of  his  adherents  to  the  banks  of  the  Sitter, 
he  baptized  them. 

The  news  immediately  spread  to  the  neighbouring 
cantons,   and    a    great  crowd  flocked  from   Zurich, 


Appenzel,  and  divers  other  places,  to  "little  Jeru- 
salem." 

Zwingle  was  heart-broken  at  the  sight  of  this  agita- 
tion. He  saw  a  storm  bursting  on  those  districts  in 
which  the  seed  of  the  Gospel  was  just  beginning  to 
spring.  He  resolved  to  oppose  these  disorders,  and 
composed  a  treatise  "  On  Baptism,"  which  the  council 
of  St.  Gall,  to  whom  he  dedicated  it,  ordered  to  be 
read  in  church  before  all  the  people. 

"  Very  dear  brethren  in  God,"  said  Zwingle,  "the 
torrent  which  leaps  from  our  rocks  soon  washes  down 
whatever  it  reaches.  At  first  it  is  only  small  stones  ; 
but  these  are  carried  violently  against  larger  ones, 
until  the  torrent  becomes  so  powerful  that  it  carries 
away  everything  it  meets,  and  leaves  nothing  beliind 
it  but  screams  and  useless  lamentations,  and  fertile 
meadows  turned  into  a  desert.  The  spirit  of  disputa- 
tion and  self -righteousness  acts  in  the  same  way:  it 
excites  disorders,  destroys  charity,  and  where  it  found 
fair  and  flourishing  churches,  leaves  nothing  behind  it 
but  flocks  plunged  into  mourning  and  despair." 

Thus  spoke  Zwingle,  the  mountaineer  of  the  Tocken- 
burg.  "Tell  us  the  Word  of  God,"  exclaimed  an 
Anabaptist  who  was  in  the  church,  "  and  not  the  word 
of  Zwingle."  Confused  voices  were  immediately  heard. 
"  Let  him  take  away  the  book  !  let  him  take  away  the 
book!"  exclaimed  the  Anabaptists.  They  then  rose 
and  quitted  the  church,  crying:  "Keep  the  doctrine 
of  Zwingle :  as  for  us,  we  will  keep  the  Word  of  God." 

This  fanaticism  manifested  itself  by  still  more  lament- 
able disorders.  Under  the  pretext  that  the  Lord  com- 
mands us  to  become  like  children,  these  poor  creatures 
began  to  leap  in  the  streets,  clapping  their  hands,  to 
dance  a  jig  together,  to  squat  on  the  ground,  and  to 
roll  one  another  on  the  sand.  Some  biu-nt  the  New 
Testament,  saying :  "  The  letter  kdleth,  but  the  spirit 
giveth  life ;"  and  several,  falling  into  convulsions,  pre- 
tended that  they  had  revelations  of  the  Spirit. 

In  a  lonely  house,  situated  near  St.  Gall,  on  the 
Miillegg,  lived  a  farmer  of  eighty,  John  Schucker, 
with  his  five  sous.  They  had  all,  as  well  as  their  ser- 
vants, received  the  new  baptism ;  and  two  of  the  sons, 
Thomas  and  Leonard,  were  distinguished  for  their 
fanaticism.  On  the  7th  of  February,  1526,  (Shrove 
Tuesday,)  they  invited  a  great  number  of  Anabaptists 
to  meet  at  their  house,  and  the  father  caused  a  calf  to 
be  killed  for  the  occasion.  The  viands,  the  wine,  and 
the  numerous  assemblage,  heated  their  imaginations ; 
they  passed  the  whole  night  in  converse  and  fanatical 
gesticulations,  convulsions,  visions,  and  revelations. 

In  the  morning,  Thomas,  still  agitated  by  the  pro- 
ceedings of  the  night,  and  having  even,  as  it  appears, 
lost  his  reason,  took  the  bladder  of  the  calf,  put  some 
of  its  gall  into  it,  wishing  thus  to  imitate  the  symboli- 
cal language  of  the  prophets,  and  approaching  his 
brother  Leonard,  said  to  him  in  a  grave  voice :  "  Thus 
bitter  is  the  death  which  you  must  endure."  Then  he 
added :  "  Brother  Leonard,  go  down  on  your  knees." 
Leonard  knelt.  Shortly  after :  "  Leonard,  rise."  Leon- 
ard rose  up.  The  father,  the  brothers,  and  the  other 
Anabaptists,  looked  on  in  astonishment,  asking  what  • 
God  meant  to  do.  Shortly,  Thomas  resumed  :  "Leon- 
ard, kneel  again."  Leonard  did  so.  The  spectators, 
alarmed  at  the  dismal  look  of  the  poor  wretch,  said  to 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


him :  "  Think  of  what  you  are  doing,  and  take  care 
no  mischief  happen." — "Fear  not,"  replied  Thomas; 
"  nothing  will  happen  but  the  will  of  our  Father."  At 
the  same  time  he  suddenly  seized  a  sword,  and  bring- 
ing it  down  with  force  on  his  brother,  who  was  kneel- 
ing before  him  as  a  criminal  before  the  executioner, 
he  cut  off  his  head,  and  exclaimed :  "  Now  the  will  of 
the  Father  is  done."  All  who  were  standing  round 
started  back  in  horror,  and  the  farm  resounded  with 
cries  and  groans.  Thomas,  whose  whole  clothing  was 
shirt  and  pantaloons,  went  off  barefoot  and  bareheaded 
out  of  the  house,  and  ran  towards  St.  Gall,  making 
frantic  gestures.  He  entered  the  house  of  burgomas- 
ter Joachim  Vadian,  and,  with  haggard  looks  and  loud 
cries,  said  to  him  :  "  I  announce  to  thee  the  day  of  the 
Lord."  The  fearful  news  spread  through  St.  Gall : 
"  He  has,  like  Cain,"  it  was  said,  "  killed  his  brother 
Abel."  The  culprit  was  seized.  "It  is  true  I  did  it," 
repeated  he  incessantly;  "but  God  did  it  by  me."  On 
the  IGth  February  this  poor  creature  was  beheaded  by 
the  hand  of  the  executioner.  Fanaticism  had  made  its 
last  effort.  The  eyes  of  all  were  opened ;  and  as  an 
old  historian  says,  the  same  stroke  cut  off  the  head  of 
Thomas  Schucker  and  that  of  Anabaptism  in  vSt.  Gall. 

It  still  reigned  at  Zurich.  On  the  6th  November 
of  the  previous  year,  a  public  discussion  had  taken 
place  to  please  the  Anabaptists,  who  kept  continually 
crying,  that  they  were  condemning  the  innocent  with- 
out a  hearing.  The  three  following  theses  were  pro- 
posed by  Zwingle  and  his  friends  as  the  subject  of  the 
conference,  and  victoriously  maintained  by  them  in  the 
hall  of  conference  : — 

"  Children  born  of  believing  parents  are  children  of 
God,  like  those  who  were  born  under  the  Old  Testa- 
ment, and  consequently  they  may  receive  baptism. 

"  Baptism  is  under  the  New  what  circumcision  was 
under  the  Old  Testament ;  consequently  baptism  must 
now  be  administered  to  children  as  circumcision  was. 

"  The  custom  of  baptizing  anew  cannot  be  proved 
either  from  examples,  or  from  piissages  of  Scripture, 
or  reasons  derived  from  Scripture.  Those  who  get 
themselves  re-baptized,  crucify  Jesus  Christ." 

But  the  Anabaptists  did  not  confine  themselves  to 
merely  religious  questions.  They  demanded  the  aboli- 
tion of  tithes,  considering,  said  they,  that  they  are  not 
of  Divine  institution.  Zwingle  replied,  that  on  tithes 
depended  the  maintenance  of  churches  and  schools. 
He  wished  a  complete  religious  reform ;  but  he  was 
determined  not  to  allow  the  public  order,  or  political 
institutions,  to  be  interfered  with  in  the  least  degree. 
This  was  the  limit  when  he  saw  written  in  the  hand- 
writing of  God  these  words :  "  Hitherto  slialt  thou 
come,  but  no  farther."  It  was  necessary  to  stop  some- 
where ;  and  here  Zwingle  and  the  reformers  stopped, 
in  spite  of  the  impetuous  men  who  strove  to  hurry 
them  still  farther. 

Still,  though  the  reformers  stopped,  they  could  not 
stop  the  enthusiasts  who  seemed  placed  beside  them  to 
bring  out  their  wisdom  and  soberness.  The  Anabap- 
tists did  not  think  it  enough  to  have  formed  a  church. 
Tliis  church  was,  in  their  eyes,  the  true  state.  Were 
they  cited  before  the  courts,  they  declared  that  they 
would  not  recognise  civil  authority,  which  was  only  a 
remnant  of  paganism,  and  that  they  obeyed  no  other 


power  but  God.  They  taught  that  Christians  were 
not  permitted  to  exercise  public  functions,  or  bear  the 
sword  ;  and  similar  in  that  to  certain  irreligious  enthu- 
siasts who  have  appeared  in  our  day,  they  regarded  a 
community  of  goods  as  the  beau  ideal  of  humanity. 

Thus  the  danger  increased ;  civil  society  was  menaced, 
and  arose  to  reject  these  destructive  elements  from  its 
bosom.  The  government,  in  alarm,  allowed  themselves 
to  be  dragged  into  strange  measures.  Determined  to 
make  an  example,  they  condemned  Mantz  to  be 
drowned.  On  the  5th  January,  1527,  he  was  placed 
in  a  boat.  His  mother,  who  had  formerly  been  the 
canon's  concubine,  and  his  brother,  were  among  the 
crowd  that  accompanied  him  to  the  water-edge.  "Per- 
severe even  to  the  end,"  exclaimed  they  to  him.  At 
the  moment  when  the  executioner  made  ready  to  throw 
Mantz  into  the  lake,  his  brother  melted  into  tears ;  but 
his  mother  stood  by  calm,  with  resolute  heart,  dry  and 
sparkling  eye,  to  witness  the  martyrdom  of  her  son. 

The  same  day  Blaurock  was  beaten  with  rods.  As 
they  were  taking  him  out  of  the  town,  he  shook  his 
blue  coat  and  the  dust  on  his  feet  against  it.  It 
appears  that  this  poor  man  was,  at  a  later  period, 
burnt  alive  by  the  Roman  Catholics  of  the  Tyrol. 

No  doubt  there  was  a  spirit  of  revolt  among  the 
Anabaptists ;  without  doubt  the  ancient  ecclesiastical 
law  which  condemned  heretics  to  death,  was  still  in 
force,  and  the  Reformation  could  not,  in  one  year  or 
two,  reform  all  errors.  No  doubt,  moreover,  the 
Catholic  states  would  have  accused  the  Protestant 
states  of  encouraging  disorder ;  but  these  considera- 
tions, while  they  explain  the  rigour  of  the  magistrate, 
cannot  justify  it.  Measures  might  have  beeu  taken 
against  every  assault  made  on  the  civU  constitution ; 
but  religious  errors,  combated  by  religious  teachers, 
ought  to  have  had  entire  exemption  from  civil  coiu-ts. 
Such  opinions  are  not  lashed  away  with  the  whip — 
they  are  not  drowned  when  those  who  profess  them 
are  thrown  into  the  water ;  they  rise  up  from  the  bot- 
tom of  the  abyss  and  the  fire  only  kindles  in  their 
adherents  greater  enthusiasm  and  thirst  for  martyi-- 
dom.  Zwingle,  whose  sentiments  on  this  head  we  have 
already  seen,  took  no  part  in  these  severities. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

rop'sh  Immobility— Protestant  Progression— Z\vingle  and  Luther— Zwingle 
and  the  Lord's  Supper— Luther's  great  Principle— Carlstadt's  Writings 
Prohibited— Zwingle's  Commentary— The  Swabian  Syngram— Capito 
and  Bucer — Need  of  Unity  in  Diversity. 

Baptism,  however,  was  not  the  only  subject  on  which 
dissension  was  to  arise.  The  doctrine  of  the  Supper 
was  to  occasion  it  in  a  still  graver  form. 

The  human  mind,  freed  from  the  yoke  under  which 
it  had  groaned  for  so  many  ages,  availed  itself  of  its 
freedom ;  and  if  Roman  Catholicism  had  its  rocks  of 
despotism,  Protestantism  had  cause  to  fear  rocks  of 
anarchy.  The  characteristic  of  Protestantism  is  move- 
ment, as  that  of  Rome  is  immobility. 


ZWINGLE  AND  LUTHER. 


349 


Roman  Catholicism,  which  possesses  in  the  papacy 
a  means  of  incessantly  establishing  new  doctrines,  does 
indeed  at  first  appear  to  have  a  principle  eminently 
favourable  to  variations.  This  it  has  used  to  a  large 
extent ;  and  wo  see  Rome,  from  age  to  age,  producing 
or  ratifying  new  dogmas.  But  when  once  its  system 
was  completed,  Roman  Catholicism  became  the  cham- 
pion of  immobility.  Its  safety  lies  hero.  It  is  like  one 
of  those  tottering  buildings,  from  which  nothing  can 
be  taken  away  without  producing  a  ruin.  Allow  the 
priests  of  Rome  to  marry,  or  do  away  with  the  doc- 
trine of  transubstantiation,  and  the  whole  system  is 
shaken — the  whole  edifice  falls. 

It  is  not  so  with  evangelical  Christianity.  Its  prin- 
ciple is  much  less  favourable  to  variations,  and  much 
more  favourable  to  motion  and  life.  On  the  one  hand, 
the  only  source  of  truth  which  it  recognises  is  one 
Scripture,  standing  alone,  always  the  same  from  the 
beginning  of  the  Church  to  its  end ;  how,  then,  could 
it  vary  as  the  papacy  has  done?  But,  on  the  other 
hand,  each  Christian  must  go  and  draw  for  himself  at 
this  source.  Hence  arise  motion  and  liberty.  Thus 
evangelical  Christianity,  while  it  is  in  the  nineteenth 
century  what  it  was  in  the  sixteenth,  and  also  in  the 
first,  is  at  all  times  full  of  energy  and  activity,  filling 
the  world  with  researches,  labours,  Bibles,  missionaries, 
light,  salvation,  and  life. 

It  is  a  great  error  to  rank  and  almost  confound 
evangelical  Christianity  with  mysticism  and  rationalism, 
and  impute  their  vagaries  to  it.  Movement  is  natural 
to  evangelical  Protestantism ;  it  has  an  antipathy  to 
inmiobility  and  death ;  but  it  is  the  movement  of  health 
and  life  that  characterizes  it,  and  not  the  aberrations 
of  the  man  who  has  lost  his  senses,  or  the  agitations 
of  disease.  "We  are  going  to  see  this  characteristic 
manifested  in  the  doctrine  of  the  Supper. 

This  was  to  be  expected.  This  doctrine  had  received 
divers  interpretations  in  the  early  days  of  the  Church, 
and  this  diversity  subsisted  until  the  period  when  the 
doctrine  of  transubstantiation  and  the  scholastic  theo- 
logy began,  at  the  same  time,  to  exert  an  ascendancy 
over  the  Middle  Ages.  This  ascendancy  having  been 
shaken,  the  ancient  diversity  behoved  to  re-appear. 

Zwiugle  and  Luther,  after  having  been  developed 
apart, — the  former  in  Switzerland,  the  latter  in  Saxony, 
— were  one  day  to  meet  in  presence  of  each  other. 
They  were  animated  by  the  same  spirit,  and,  in  many 
respects,  by  the  same  character.  Both  were  full  of 
love  for  truth  and  hatred  for  injustice;  both  were 
naturally  violent ;  and  in  both  this  violence  was  tem- 
pered by  sincere  piety.  But  there  was  a  feature  in  the 
character  of  Zwingle  which  carried  him  farther  onward 
than  Luther.  He  loved  liberty  not  merely  as  a  man, 
but  as  a  republican — a  countryman  of  Tell.  Accus- 
tomed to  the  decisions  of  a  free  state,  he  did  not  allow 
himself  to  be  arrested  by  considerations  before  which 
Luther  recoiled.  He  had,  moreover,  studied  scholastic 
theology  less  than  Luther,  and  in  this  way  was  less 
under  trammels.  Both  ardently  attached  to  their  in- 
most convictions,  both  determined  to  defend  them, 
and  little  accustomed  to  bend  before  the  convic- 
tions of  others,  they  were  to  meet,  like  two  fiery 
steeds  which  rush  into  battle,  and  suddenly  encounter 
each  other. 


A  practical  tendency  predominated  in  Zwingle,  and 
in  tlie  Reformation  of  which  he  was  the  author;  and 
tliis  tendency  was  directed  to  two  great  results — to 
simplicity  in  woi-ship,  and  to  holiness  in  life.  To  bring 
worship  into  accordance  with  the  wants  of  the  mind, 
which  seeks  not  external  pomp,  but  things  invisible, 
was  the  first  want  of  Zwingle.  The  idea  of  a  corporeal 
presence  of  Jesus  Christ  in  the  Supper — an  idea,  the 
source  of  all  the  ceremonies  and  all  the  superstitions  of 
the  Churcli,  behoved  to  be  abolished.  But  another 
longing  of  tlic  Swiss  reformer  led  him  to  the  same 
results.  He  found  that  the  doctrine  of  Rome  on  the 
Supper,  and  even  tliat  of  Luther,  presupposed  a  certain 
magical  influence  prejudicial  to  sanctification.  He 
feared  that  the  Christian,  in  imagining  that  he  received 
Jesus  Christ  in  the  consecrated  bread,  would  not  be  so 
zealous  in  seeking  to  be  united  to  him  by  heartfelt 
faith.  "Faith,"  said  he,  "is  not  knowledge,  opinion, 
imagination ;  it  is  a  reality.  It  brings  with  it  a  real 
union  in  things  divine."  Hence,  whatever  the  enemies 
of  Zwingle  may  allege,  it  was  not  a  leaning  to  rational- 
ism, but  a  profoundly  religious  idea,  that  led  him  to 
the  adoption  of  his  peculiar  views.  The  result  of  the 
labours  of  Zwingle  coincided  with  his  tendencies.  lu 
studying  the  Scriptures  as  a  whole,  as  he  was  accus- 
tomed to  do,  and  not  merely  in  detached  portions,  and 
in  having  recourse  to  the  Classics,  in  order  to  solve  any 
difficulties  of  expression,  he  came  to  be  convinced  that 
the  word  is,  in  the  institution  of  the  Supper,  must  be 
taken  in  the  sense  of  signifies;  and  as  early  as  1523, 
he  wrote  to  a  friend  that  the  bread  and  wine,  in  the 
institution  of  the  Supper,  are  only  what  the  water  is 
in  baptism.  "It  were  vain,"  added  he,  "to  plimge 
him  who  believes  not  a  thousand  times  in  water. 
Faith,  then,  is  the  thing  essentially  required." 

Luther  at  first  set  out  from  principles  very  much 
akin  to  those  of  the  teacher  of  Zurich.  "  It  is  not  the 
sacrament  which  sanctifies,"  said  he,  "  it  is  faith  in  the 
sacrament."  But  the  extravagances  of  the  Anabaptists, 
whose  mysticism  spiritualized  everything,  produced  a 
great  change  in  his  views.  When  he  saw  enthusiasts, 
who  pretended  to  a  particular  inspiration,  breaking 
images,  rejecting  baptism,  denying  the  presence  of 
Christ  in  the  Supper,  he  was  alarmed ;  he  had  a  kind 
of  prophetical  presentiment  of  the  dangers  which 
threatened  the  Church,  if  this  ultra-spiritualist  disposi- 
tion gained  the  ascendancy;  and  he  threw  himself  into 
a  quite  different  path,  like  a  pilot  who,  seeing  his 
barque  leaning  much  over  to  one  side,  and  ready  to 
upset,  leans  with  all  his  weight  on  the  other  side,  in 
order  to  establish  the  equilibrium. 

From  this  time  Luther  attached  a  higher  importance 
to  the  sacraments.  He  maintained  that  they  were 
not  only  signs  by  means  of  which  Christians  are  exter- 
nally recognised,  as  Zwingle  held ;  but  testimonials  of 
the  Divine  will,  fitted  to  strengthen  our  faith.  More 
than  this,  Christ,  according  to  him,  had  been  pleased 
to  impart  to  believers  a  full  assurance  of  their  salva- 
tion ;  and  in  order  to  seal  this  promise  in  the  most 
effectual  manner,  had  added  His  true  body  in  the  bread 
and  wine.  "  In  the  same  way,"  said  he,  "  as  iron  and 
fire,  which,  however,  are  two  distinct  substances,  are 
blended  together  iu  a  furnace,  so  that  in  each  of  its 
parts  there  is  at  once  iron  and  fire ;  in  the  same  way, 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


and  a  fortiori^  the  glorified  body  of  Christ  exists  in  all 
the  parts  of  the  bread." 

Thus,  on  the  part  of  Luther  at  this  period,  there  was 
perhaps  some  return  to  scholastic  theology.  He  had 
completely  disconnected  himself  with  it  in  the  doctrine 
of  justification  by  faith;  but  in  the  sacrament  he  aban- 
doned only  one  point,  that  of  trausubstantiation,  and 
kept  the  other,  the  corporeal  presence.  He  even  went 
the  length  of  saying,  that  he  would  rather  receive  only 
blood  with  the  pope  than  receive  only  wine  with 
Zwingle. 

The  great  principle  of  Luther  was  to  withdraw  from 
the  doctsine  and  customs  of  the  Church  only  when  the 
words  of  Scripture  rendered  it  absolutely  necessary. 
"  Where  has  Christ  ordered  the  host  to  be  elevated  and 
shewn  to  the  people?"  asked  Carlstadt. — "And  where 
has  Christ  forbidden  it?"  replied  Luther.  Here  is  the 
principle  of  the  two  Reformations.  Ecclesiastical 
traditions  were  dear  to  the  Saxon  refonner.  If  ho 
separated  from  them  in  several  points,  it  was  only  after 
severe  struggles,  and  because  it  was  necessary,  first  of 
all,  to  obey  the  Word.  But  when  the  letter  of  the 
Word  appeared  in  harmony  with  ti'adition  and  the 
usage  of  the  Church,  he  clung  to  it  with  immoveable 
firmness.  Now,  this  is  just  what  happened  in  the  case 
of  the  Supper.  He  denied  not  that  the  word  is  might 
be  taken  in  the  sense  pointed  out  by  Zwingle.  He 
acknowledged,  for  instance,  that  it  was  necessary  so  to 
understand  it  in  the  words:  That  roch  was  Christ;  but 
he  denied  that  it  could  have  this  meaning  in  the  insti- 
tution of  the  Supper. 

In  one  of  the  later  schoolmen,  the  one  whom  he  pre- 
ferred to  all  the  others,  Occam,  he  found  an  opinion 
which  he  embraced.  Like  Occam,  he  abandoned  the 
constantly  repeated  miracle,  in  virtue  of  which,  accord- 
ing to  the  Romish  Church,  the  body  and  blood  are,  on 
each  occasion,  after  consecration  by  the  priest,  substi- 
tuted for  the  bread  and  wine ;  and,  like  this  doctor,  he 
substituted  for  it  an  universal  miracle,  performed  once 
for  all, — that  of  the  ubiquity  or  omnipresence  of  the 
body  of  Jesus  Christ.  "Christ,"  said  he,  "is  present 
in  the  bread  and  wine,  because  He  is  present  every- 
where, and  especially  everywhere  He  chooses." 

The  tendency  of  Zwingle  was  quite  different  from 
that  of  Luther.  He  was  less  disposed  to  preserve  a 
certain  union  with  the  universal  Church,  and  maiutain 
a  connection  with  the  tradition  of  past  ages.  As  a 
theologian,  he  looked  to  the  Scriptures  alone,  from 
which  he  wished  to  receive  his  faith  freely,  and  imme- 
diately, without  troubling  himself  with  what  others 
had  previously  thought.  As  a  republican,  he  looked 
to  his  community  of  Zurich.  It  was  the  idea  of  the 
present  Church  that  engrossed  him,  not  the  idea  of  the 
Church  of  other  times.  He  dwelt  particularly  on 
these  words  of  St.  Paul :  Because  there  is  but  one  bread, 
tue  who  are  many  are  one  body.  And  he  saw  in  the 
Supper  the  sign  of  a  spiritual  communion  between 
Christ  and  all  Christians.  "  Whoever,"  he  said,  "con- 
ducts himself  unworthily,  becomes  guilty  towards  the 
body  of  Christ,  of  which  he  forms  part."  This  idea 
had  a  great  practical  influence ;  and  the  effects  which 
it  produced  on  the  lives  of  many  persons  confirmed 
Zwingle  in  it. 

Thus  Luther  and  Zwingle  had  insensibly  withdrawn 


from  each  other.  Perhaps,  however,  peace  would  have 
longer  subsisted  between  them,  had  not  the  turbulent 
Carlstadt,  who  was  coming  and  going  between  Ger- 
many and  Switzerland,  set  fire  to  these  opposite 
opinions. 

A  proceeding  taken  to  maintain  peace  had  the 
effect  of  kindling  war.  The  council  of  Zurich,  wishing 
to  prevent  all  controversy,  prohibited  the  sale  of  Carl- 
stadt's  writings.  Zwingle,  who  disapproved  of  the 
violence  of  Carlstadt,  and  blamed  his  mystical  and 
obscure  expressions,  then  thought  himself  bound  to 
defend  his  doctrine,  whether  in  the  pulpit  or  before  the 
council,  and  soon  after  wrote  pastor  Albert  of  Reut- 
lingen  a  letter,  in  which  he  said :  "  Whether  or  not 
Christ  speaks  of  the  sacrament  in  the  sixth  chapter  of 
John,  it  is  very  clear  that  He  speaks  of  a  mode  of  eat- 
ing His  flesh  and  drinking  His  blood,  in  which  there  is 
nothing  corporeal."  He  then  endeavoured  to  prove 
that  the  Supper,  by  reminding  believers,  according  to 
Christ's  intention,  of  His  body  broken  for  them,  pro- 
cured for  them  that  spiritual  eating  which  alone  is 
truly  salutary. 

Still  Zwingle  was  as  yet  very  averse  to  a  rupture 
with  Luther.  He  trembled  to  think  that  new  dissen- 
sions should  rend  this  new  society  which  was  then 
forming  in  the  midst  of  decayed  Christendom.  Luther 
did  not  feel  in  the  same  way.  He  hesitated  not  to 
class  Zwingle  with  the  enthusiasts  with  whom  he  had 
already  broken  so  many  lances.  He  did  not  reflect 
that  if  images  had  been  removed  at  Zurich,  it  was 
legally  and  by  public  authority.  Accustomed  to  the 
forms  of  the  Germanic  states,  he  had  little  acquaint- 
ance with  the  procedure  of  Swiss  republics;  and  he 
inveighed  against  the  grave  Helvetic  theologians,  as 
against  the  Miinzers  and  Carlstadts. 

Luther  having  published  his  treatise  against  "Tlie 
Heavenly  Prophets,"  Zwingle  no  longer  hesitated,  and 
published  almost  at  the  same  time  his  "Letter  to 
Albert,"  and  his  "  Commentary  on  True  and  False 
Religion,"  dedicated  to  Francis  I.  He  here  said : 
"  Since  Christ,  in  the  sixth  chapter  of  John,  attributes 
to  faith  the  power  of  imparting  eternal  life,  and  unit- 
ing the  believer  with  himself  in  the  most  intimate 
manner,  what  need  have  we  of  anything  else?  Why 
should  He  afterwards  have  attributed  this  virtue  to  Hi's 
flesh,  while  He  himself  declares  that  His  flesh  profitcth 
nothing?  The  flesh  of  Christ,  in  so  far  as  it  was  put 
to  death  for  us,  is  of  immense  benefit  to  us,  for  it  saves 
us  from  perdition ;  but  in  so  far  as  eaten  by  us  does  us 
no  good." 

The  struggle  commenced.  Pomeranus,  Luther's 
friend,  rushed  to  battle,  and  attacked  the  evangelist 
of  Zurich  somewhat  too  disdainfully.  Qilcolampadius 
then  began  to  blush  at  having  so  long  combated  his 
doubts,  and  preached  doctrines  which  already  wavered 
in  his  mind.  He  took  courage,  and  wrote  from  Bale 
to  Zwingle.  The  dogma  of  the  real  presence  is  the 
fortress  and  strong  tower  of  their  impiety.  So  long  as 
they  keep  this  idol,  it  will  be  impossible  to  vanquish 
them.  He  then  also  entered  the  lists,  by  publishing  a 
tract  on  the  meaning  of  our  Saviour's  words :  This  is 
my  body} 

1  He  took  the  word  is  in  its  ordinary  acceptation ;  but  by  lody  lie  nndcr- 
stood  a  symbol  of  tlie  body. 


THE  SW ASIAN  SYNGRAM. 


351 


The  mere  fact  of  CEcolampadius  joiuing  the  reformer 
produced  an  immense  sensation,  not  only  at  Bale,  but 
throughout  Germany.  Luther  was  deeply  moved  at 
it.  Brentz,  Schnepff,  and  twelve  other  pastors  of 
Swabia,  to  whom  CEcolampadius  had  dedicated  his 
book,  and  who  had  almost  all  been  his  pupils,  felt  the 
preatost  pain.  "At  the  very  moment  of  separating 
from  him  for  a  just  cause,"  said  Breulz,  in  taking  up 
the  pen  to  answer  him,  "  I  honour  and  admire  him  as 
much  as  it  is  possible  to  do.  The  bond  of  love  is  not 
broken  between  us  because  we  are  not  agreed."  Then 
he  publislied,  with  his  friends,  the  famous  "  Syngram 
of  Swabia,"  in  which  he  replied  to  Qicolampadius 
lirmly,  but  charitably  and  respcctfiUly.  "  If  an 
emperor,"  said  the  authors  of  the  "Syngram,"  "give  a 
baton  to  a  judge,  saying  to  him:  'Take!  this  is  the 
power  of  judging,'  the  baton,  doubtless,  is  only  a  simple 
symbol,  but  these  words  being  added,  the  judge  has 
not  only  the  symbol  of  power — he  has  power  itself." 
The  true  reformed  churches  may  admit  this  compari- 
son. The  "Syngram"  was  received  with  acclamation  ; 
its  authors  were  regarded  as  the  champions  of  the 
truth ;  several  theologians,  and  even  laymen,  wishing 
to  share  in  their  glory,  began  to  defend  the  doctrine 
which  was  attacked,  and  made  a  rush  at  CEcolampadius. 

Strasburg  then  came  forward  as  a  mediator  between 
Switzerland  and  Germany.  Capito  and  Buccr  were 
friends  of  peace,  and  the  question  in  debate  was, 
according  to  them,  of  secondary  importance ;  they, 
therefore,  placed  themselves  between  the  two  parties, 
sent  George  Casscl,  one  of  their  colleagues,  to  Luther, 
and  besought  him  not  to  break  the  bond  of  brother- 
hood which  united  him  to  the  teachers  of  Switzerland. 

Nowhere  was  Luther's  character  more  strikingly 
manifested  than  in  this  controversy  on  the  Supper. 
Never  did  he  so  fully  manifest  the  firmness  with  which 
he  kept  to  what  he  believed  to  be  a  Christian  convic- 
tion, his  fidelity  in  seeking  a  foundation  for  it  only  in 
Scripture,  the  sagacity  of  liis  defence,  and  his  animated, 
eloquent,  often  overpowering  argumentation.  But 
never,  also,  did  he  more  strikingly  manifest  the  obsti- 
nacy with  which  he  adhered  to  his  own  views,  the 
little  attention  which  he  paid  to  the  reasons  of  his 
advei-saries,  and  the  uncharitable  readiness  which  led 
him  to  attribute  their  errors  to  the  wickedness  of  their 
hearts  and  the  wiles  of  the  devil.  "  One  or  other," 
said  he  to  the  mediator  of  Strasburg,  "the  Swiss  or 
we  must  be  the  ministers  of  Satan."     .     .     . 

This  w.ns  what  Capito  called  "  the  madness  of  the 
Saxon  Orestes,"  and  the  madness  was  followed  by 
exhaustion.  Luther's  health  was  affected ;  one  day  he 
fainted  away  in  the  arms  of  his  wife  and  his  friends ; 
and  he  was  for  a  whole  week,  as  it  were,  "  in  death 
and  hell."  "  He  had,"  he  said,  "lost  Jesus  Christ,  and 
was  tossed  to  and  fro  by  the  tempest  of  despair.  ,  . 
The  world  was  mouldering  away,  and  announcing  by 
prodigies  that  the  last  day  was  at  hand." 

Lut  the  divisions  of  tlic  friends  of  the  Reformation 
were  to  have  still  more  fatal  consequences.  The 
Roman  theologians  triumphed,  especially  in  Switzer- 
land, in  being  able  to  oppose  Luther  to  Zwingle.  Still, 
after  three  centuries,  the  remembrance  of  these  divi- 
sions furnish  evangelical  Christians  with  the  precious 
fruit  of  unity  in  diversity.     Even  then  the  reformers, 


by  setting  themselves  in  opposition  to  each  other, 
shewed  that  the  feeling  which  animated  them  was  not 
a  blind  hatred  of  Rome,  and  that  truth  was  the  first 
aim  of  their  researches.  Herein,  it  must  be  acknow- 
ledged, there  is  something  noble.  A  conduct  thus 
disinterested  failed  not  to  bear  some  fruit,  and  to  force, 
even  from  enemies,  a  feeling  of  interest  and  esteem. 

Nor  is  this  all.  We  may  here  perceive  tliat  the 
Sovereign  hand  which  disposes  of  all  events,  permits 
nothing  without  the  wisest  design.  Luther,  notwith- 
standing of  his  opposition  to  the  papacy,  was,  in  an 
eminent  degree,  conservative.  Zwingle,  oxi  the  con- 
trary, was  inclined  to  a  radical  reformation.  These 
two  opposite  tendencies  were  necessary.  If  only 
Luther  and  his  adherents  had  appeared  in  the  days  of 
the  Reformation,  the  work  would  ha\e  been  too  soon 
arrested,  and  the  reforming  principle  would  not  have 
fulfilled  its  task.  If,  on  the  contrary,  Zwingle  only 
had  appeared,  the  thread  would  have  been  too  suddenly 
snapped,  and  the  Reformation  would  have  been  isolated 
from  the  ages  which  preceded  it. 

These  two  tendencies  which,  on  a  superficial  glance, 
may  seem  to  have  existed  merely  that  they  might 
oppose  each  other,  had,  on  the  contraiy,  a  task  to 
accomplish ;  and  we  are  able  to  say,  after  a  lapse  of 
thi-ee  centuries,  that  they  fulfilled  their  mission. 


CHAPTER  XIL 


Tnus  the  Reformation  had  struggles  to  maintain  in 
every  quarter.  After  combating  with  the  rationalist 
philosophy  of  Erasmus,  and  the  fanatical  enthusiasm 
of  the  Anabaptists,  it  had  still  a  struggle  with  itself. 
But  its  great  struggle  ever  was  with  the  papacy;  and 
the  attack  which  it  had  began  in  the  cities  of  the  plain, 
it  now  continued  on  the  remotest  mountains. 

On  the  heights  of  the  Tockenburg  the  sound  of  the 
Gospel  had  been  heard,  and  three  ecclesiastics  were 
prosecuted,  by  order  of  the  bishop,  on  a  charge  of 
heresy.  "Let  them  convince  us  with  the  "Word  of 
God  in  their  hand,"  said  Militus,  Doring,  and  Farer, 
"  and  we  will  submit  not  only  to  the  chapter,  but  to 
the  least  of  the  brethren  in  Jesus  Christ ;  if  not,  we 
will  not  obey  any  one,  not  even  the  man  highest  in 
power." 

This  was  indeed  the  spirit  of  Zwingle  and  the  Refor- 
mation. Shortly  after,  a  circumstance  occun-ed  which 
inflamed  the  minds  of  those  living  in  these  high  valleys. 
An  assembly  of  the  people  had  been  held  on  St. 
Catherine's  day.  The  citizens  were  met,  and  two  men 
of  Schwitz,  who  had  come  to  the  Tockenburg  on  busi- 
ness, were  at  one  of  tlie  tables :  conversation  went  on ; 
"  Ulrich  Zwingle,"  exclaimed  one  of  them,  "  is  a  heretic 
and  a  robber!"  Steiger,  secretary  of  state,  undertook 
the  reformer's  defence;  the  noise  drew  the  attention 
of  the  whole  assembly.  George  Bruggman,  the  uncle 
of  Zwingle,  who  was  sitting  at  another  table,  darted 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


from  liis  seat  iu  a  rage,  exclaiming :  "  Certainly  it  is 
of  Master  Zwingle  they  are  speaking."  All  the  guests 
rose  and  followed  him,  fearing  a  scuffle.  The  tumult 
increasing,  the  bailie  hastily  assembled  the  council  in 
the  open  street,  and  Bruggman  was  entreated,  for  peace 
sake,  to  content  himself  with  saying  to  these  men :  "  If 
you  do  not  retract,  you  yourselves  are  the  parties  guilty 
of  falsehood  and  robbery." — "  Remember  what  you 
have  just  said,"  replied  the  men  of  Schwitz ;  "  we  too 
will  remember  it."  They  then  mounted  their  horses, 
and  galloped  off  by  the  road  to  Schwitz. 

The  government  of  Schwitz  sent  a  threatening  letter 
to  the  inhabitants  of  the  Tockenburg.  All  were  in 
alarm.  "Be  strong  and  fearless,"  wrote  Zwingle  to 
the  council  of  his  native  district.  "Don't  let  the  lies 
which  are  retailed  against  me  give  you  any  uneasiness. 
There  is  not  a  clamourer  but  who  can  call  me  heretic ; 
but  do  you  abstain  from  insult,  disorder,  debauchery, 
and  mercenary  wars;  assist  the  poor,  protect  the 
oppressed,  and  whatever  be  the  insults  poured  upon 
you,  put  unshaken  confidence  in  Almighty  God." 

The  exhortations  of  Zwingle  were  successftil.  The 
council  still  hesitated,  but  the  people  assembled  in  their 
parishes,  and  came  to  an  unanimous  resolution  that  the 
mass  should  be  abolished,  and  that  they  would  be  faith- 
ful to  the  Word  of  God. 

The  conquests  were  not  less  important  in  Rhetia, 
which  Salanch-onius  had  beeu  compelled  to  quit,  but 
where  Comander  boldly  preached  the  Gospel.  The 
Anabaptists,  it  is  true,  preaching  their  fanatical  doc- 
trines in  the  Grisons,  had  at  first  greatly  injured  the 
Reformation.  The  people  had  been  divided  into  three 
parties.  Some  had  thrown  themselves  into  the  arms 
of  these  new  prophets ;  others,  looking  on  in  silent 
astonishment,  were  disquieted  by  the  schism.  In  fine, 
the  partisans  of  Rome  shouted  triumph. 

An  assembly  was  held  at  Ilantz,  in  the  country  of 
the  Grisons,  for  a  discussion ;  the  supporters  of  the 
papacy,  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  friends  of  the  Refor- 
mation on  the  other,  drew  together  their  forces.  The 
vicar  of  the  bishop  endeavoured  at  first  to  evade  the 
combat.  "These  discussions  occasioning  great  ex- 
pense," said  he,  "  I  am  ready,  in  order  to  cover  it,  to 
deposit  ten  thousand  florins ;  but  I  demand  that  an 
equal  sum  be  deposited  by  the  other  party." — "If  the 
bishop  has  ten  thousand  florins  at  his  disposal," 
exclaimed  the  burly  voice  of  a  peasant  from  amid  the 
crowd,  "it  is  from  us  he  has  extorted  them ;  to  give  as 
much  more  to  these  poor  priests  would  truly  be  too 
much." — "  We  are  poor  people  with  empty  purses," 
said  Comander,  pastor  of  Coire ;  "  scarcely  have  we 
the  means  of  buying  soup :  where  should  we  find  ten 
thousand  florins?"  Everyone  laughed  at  this  expe- 
dient, and  nothing  more  was  said  of  it. 

Among  those  present  were  Sebastian  Hof  meister  and 
James  Amman  of  Zurich,  holding  in  their  hands  the 
Holy  Scriptures  in  Hebrew  and  Greek.  The  vicar  of 
the  bishop  demanded  that  strangers  should  be  excluded. 
Hofmeister  saw  that  this  was  aimed  at  him,  and  said : 
"  We  have  come  provided  with  a  Greek  and  Hebrew 
Bible,  in  order  that  no  violence  may  be  done  in  any 
manner  of  way  to  the  Scriptures.  However,  sooner 
than  prevent  the  conference,  we  are  ready  to  with- 
draw."— "Ah!"  exclaimed  the  curate  of  Dintzen,  look- 


ing at  the  books  of  the  two  Zurichers,  "  if  the  Greek 
tongue  and  the  Hebrew  tongue  had  never  entered  our 
country,  there  would  be  fewer  heresies." — "  St.  Jerome," 
said  another,  "  translated  the  Bible  for  us ;  we  have 
no  need  of  Jewish  books." — "If  the  Zurichers  are 
excluded,"  said  the  banneret  of  Ilantz,  "  the  community 
will  interfere." — "Well,  then,"  it  was  answered,  "let 
them  listeu,  but  say  nothing."  The  Zurichers  accord- 
ingly remained,  and  their  Bible  with  them. 

Then  Comander,  standing  up,  read  the  first  of  the 
theses  which  he  had  published.  It  was :  "  The  Chris- 
tian Church  springs  from  the  AVord  of  God.  It  must 
abide  by  this  Word,  and  listen  only  to  its  voice."  He 
proceeded  to  prove  his  proposition  by  numerous  pas- 
sages of  Scripture.  "He  walked  with  a  sure  step," 
said  an  eye-witness,  "and  set  down  his  foot  with  the 
tramp  of  an  ox." — "  We  have  too  much  of  this,"  said  the 
vicar. — "  When  among  his  boon  companions  listening  to 
the  flute,"  said  Hofmeister,  "he  does  not  find  it  too  much." 
A  man  rose  from  the  middle  of  the  assembly  and 
came  forward,  waving  his  arms,  twinkling  with  his 
eyes,  and  knitting  his  brows,  and  apparently  out  of  his 
senses ;  he  sprang  towards  Comander,  and  several 
thought  he  was  going  to  strike  him.  It  was  a  school- 
master of  Coire.  "  I  have  put  down  several  questions 
for  you  in  writing,"  said  he  to  Comander,  "  answer 
them  instantly." — "lam  here,"  said  the  Grison  reformer, 
"  to  defend  my  doctrine ;  attack  it,  and  I  will  defend 
it:  if  not,  return  to  your  place.  I  will  answer  you 
when  I  have  done."  The  schoolmaster  stood  for  a 
moment  in  suspense.  "  Very  good,"  he  at  length  said, 
and  resumed  his  seat. 

It  was  proposed  to  pass  to  the  doctrine  of  the  sacra- 
ments. The  Abbot  of  St.  Luke  declared  it  was  not 
without  fear  he  approached  such  a  subject,  while  the 
frightened  vicar  made  the  sign  of  the  cross. 

The  schoolmaster,  who  had  already  desired  to  attack 
Comander,  began  with  much  volubility  to  maintain  the 
doctrine  of  the  sacraments,  founding  on  the  words : 
"  This  is  my  body." — "  Dear  Berre,"  said  Comander  to 
him,  "how  do  you  understand  the  words,  'John  is 
Elias?'" — "I  understand,"  replied  Berre,  who  saw 
Comander's  drift,  "that  he  was  truly  and  essentially 
Elias." — "And  why,  then,"  continued  Comander,  "did 
John  Baptist  himself  say  that  he  was  not  Elias  f"  The 
schoolmaster  was  silent,  and  at  length  said:  "It  is 
true."  There  was  a  general  burst  of  laughter,  even 
from  those  who  had  employed  him  to  speak. 

The  Abbot  of  St.  Luke  deKvered  a  long  harangue 
on  the  Supper,  and  the  conference  was  closed.  Seven 
priests  embraced  the  evangelical  doctrine ;  full  religious 
freedom  was  proclaimed,  and  the  Romish  ritual  was 
abolished  in  several  churches.  "  Christ,"  to  use  the 
words  of  Salaudronius,  "  everywhere  sprang  up  in  these 
mountains  like  the  tender  grass  in  spring,  and  the 
pastors  were  like  living  springs  which  watered  these 
high  valleys." 

The  Reformation  made  still  more  rapid  strides  at 
Zurich.  The  Dominicans,  Augustines,  and  Capuchins, 
were  compelled  to  live  together — the  hell  anticipated 
for  these  poor  monks.  Instead  of  these  corrupt  insti- 
tutions, schools,  an  hospital,  and  a  theological  seminary, 
were  founded.  Knowledge  and  charity  everywhere 
took  the  place  of  idleness  and  selfishness. 


DISPUTATION  PROPOSED. 


353 


CHAPTER  XTII. 

Executions — DisciiSDioa  at  Baden — Rules  of  the  Discussion — Kicbes  and 
rovcrty— Eck  and  (Ecolampadius— Discussion— Part  taken  by  Zwinglc 
—Boasting  ottlic  Romans— Insults  of  a  Monk— End  of  tlie  Discussion. 

These  victories  of  the  Reformation  could  not  be  over- 
looked. Monks,  priests,  and  prelates,  transported  with 
rage,  felt  that  the  ground  was  everywhere  moving  from 
under  their  feet,  and  that  the  Church  was  ready  to 
give  way  before  unparalleled  dangei-s.  The  oligarchs 
of  the  cantons — the  men  of  pensions  and  foreign  enlist- 
ments— became  aware  that  they  could  no  longer  delay, 
if  they  wished  to  save  their  privileges ;  and  at  the 
moment  when  the  Cliurch  was  in  fear,  and  beginning 
to  sink,  they  offered  her  their  arm  of  steel.  A  Stein 
and  a  John  Hug  of  Lucerne  united  with  a  John  Faber, 
and  the  civil  authority  rushed  to  the  assistance  of  that 
hierarchical  power  which  utters  high-sounding  words 
of  pride,  and  makes  war  on  the  saints. 

Public  opinion  had  long  been  dcniniiding  a  discus- 
sion. Tliere  was  no  other  means  of  calniiiig  the  people. 
The  councils  of  Zurich  had  said  to  the  diet :  ••  Convince 
us  from  Scripture,  and  we  will  yield  to  your  invitations." 
It  was  every^vhere  repeated:  "The  Zurichers  ha\e 
given  you  a  promise ;  if  you  can  convince  them  by  the 
Bible,  why  don't  you  do  it .' — and  if  you  cannot,  why 
don't  you  conform  to  the  Bible '?" 

The  conferences  held  at  Zm-ich  had  exercised  an  im- 
mense influence ;  it  was  necessary  to  oppose  them  with 
a  conference  held  in  a  Romish  town,  taking  all  neces- 
sary precautions  to  secure  the  victory  to  the  papal  party. 

It  is  true  these  discussions  had  been  declared  unlaw- 
ful ;  but  means  were  found  to  escape  from  this  diffi- 
culty. "The  only  thing  to  be  done,"  it  was  said,  "is 
to  arrest  and  condemn  the  pernicious  doctrines  ot 
Zwingle."  This  being  agreed,  a  stout  champion  wi-. 
wanted,  and  Dr.  Eck  presented  himself.  lie  had  ii  > 
fear.  His  expression,  according  to  Hofmeistcr.  wa^ 
"Zwingle  has,  doubtless,  milked  more  cows  than  lit, 
has  read  books." 

Tiie  great  council  of  Zurich  sent  Dr.  Eck  a  safe- 
conduct  to  come  to  Zurich  itself ;  but  Eck  replied  that 
he  would  await  the  answer  of  the  confederation. 
Zwingle  then  offered  to  debate  at  St.  Gall  or  Schaff- 
hausen ;  but  the  council,  founding  on  an  article  of 
the  federal  compact,  which  bore,  "  that  every  person 
accused  sluill  be  tried  in  the  place  where  he  resides," 
ordered  Zwingle  to  withdraw  his  offer. 

The  diet  at  length  decreed  that  a  conference  should 
take  place  at  Baden,  and  fixed  it  for  the  IGth  May, 
1526.  This  conference  was  to  be  important,  for  it  was 
the  result  and  seal  of  the  alliance  whicli  had  been  made 
between  the  ecclesiastical  power  and  the  oligarchs  of 
the  confederation.  "  See,"  said  Zwingle  to  Vadiau, 
"  what  the  oligarchs  and  Faber  dare  at  this  hour  to 
undertake." 

Accordingly,  the  decision  of  the  diet  produced  a 
great  impression  in  Switzerland.  It  was  not  doubted 
that  a  conference,  held  under  such  auspices,  would 
prove  imfavourable  to  the  Reformation.  It  was  said 
at  Zurich :  "  Do  not  the  five  cantons  most  devoted  to 


the  pope  rule  in  Baden  ?  Have  they  not  already 
declared  the  doctrine  of  Zwingle  heretical,  and  em- 
ployed sword  and  fire  against  it  ?  Has  not  Zwingle 
been  burned  in  effigy  at  Lucerne,  after  being  subject 
to  all  kinds  of  insult?  Have  not  his  writings  been 
given  to  the  flames  at  Friburg  ?  Is  not  his  death 
everywhere  longed  for?  Have  not  the  cantons  which 
exercise  sovereign  rights  in  Baden  declared  that,  should 
Zwingle  set  foot  on  any  part  whatever  of  their  teni- 
tory,  they  would  apprehend  him  ?  Has  not  Uberlingen, 
one  of  their  leaders,  said,  that  his  only  wish  in  this 
world  was  to  hang  Zwingle,  were  he  himself  to  be  the 
executioner  on  the  last  day  of  his  life  1  And  has  not 
Dr.  Eck  been  crying  for  years  that  heretics  must  be 
attacked  with  fire  and  sword  ?  What,  then,  will  be 
this  discussion?  and  what  the  issue  of  it,  but  just  the 
death  of  the  reformer!" 

Such  were  the  fears  which  agitated  the  committee 
appointed  at  Zurich  to  examine  this  affair.  Zwingle, 
who  was  a  witness  of  their  agitation,  rose  and  said : 
"  You  know  what  was  the  fate  of  the  valiant  men  of 
Stammheim  at  Baden,  and  how  the  blood  of  the  Wirths 
dyed  the  scaffold,  .  .  .  and  we  are  invited  to  the 
very  place  of  their  execution.  .  .  .  Let  the  place 
of  conference  be  Zurich,  Berne,  St.  Gall,  or  even  Bale, 


Constance,  Schaffhausen ;  let  it  be  agreed  to  discuss 
fundamental  points  only,  employing  only  the  "Word  of 
God.  Let  no  judge  be  set  over  it ;  in  that  case,  I  am 
ready  to  appear." 

Meanwhile,  fanaticism  bestirred  herself,  and  made 
victims.  A  consistory,  headed  by  this  same  Faber 
who  challenged  Zwingle,  on  10th  May,  1526,  (about 
eight  days  before  the  discussion  of  Baden,)  condemned 
to  the  flames  as  a  heretic  an  evangelical  minister  named 
John  Hiigle,  pastor  of  Lindau,  who  walked  to  execu- 
tion singing  the  Te  Benin.  At  the  same  time  Peter 
Spengler,  another  minister,  was  drowned  at  Friburg  by 
order  of  the  Bishop  of  Constance. 

From  all  quarters  sinister  rumours  reached  Zwingle. 
His  brother-in-law,  Leonard  Tremp,  wrote  him  from 
Berne :  "  I  beseech  you,  as  you  value  your  life,  don't 
come  to  Baden.  I  know  that  the  safe-conduct  will  be 
violated." 

2a 


354 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFOEINIATION. 


It  was  confidently  stated  that  a  plan  had  been  formed 
to  cany  him  off,  gag  him,  put  him  into  a  boat,  and 
carry  him  to  some  imknowu  jilace.  In  the  view  of 
these  menaces  and  scaffolds,  the  council  of  Zurich 
decreed  that  Zwingle  shoukl  not  go  to  Baden. 

The  discussion  being  fixed  for  the  19th  May,  the 
combatants,  the  representatives  of  the  cantons,  and  the 
bishops,  began  gradually  to  arrive.  On  the  part  of 
the  Roman  Catholics  appeared,  first  of  all,  the  warlike 
and  vain-glorious  Dr.  Eek ;  on  the  part  of  the  Protes- 
tants, the  modest  and  gentle  CEcolampadius.  The 
latter  was  well  aware  of  the  perils  of  tins  discussion. 
As  an  old  biographer  expresses  it, — like  a  timid  stag 
pursued  by  raging  dogs,  he  had  long  hesitated.  At 
last  he  determined  to  repair  to  Baden.  Previously, 
however,  he  put  forward  the  solemn  protestation  :  "  I 
acknowledge  no  rule  of  judgment  but  the  Word  of 
God."  At  first  he  had  earnestly  desired  that  Zwingle 
should  share  his  dangers ;  but  he  soon  doubted  not  that 
if  the  intrepid  teacher  had  appeared  in  this  fanatical 
town,  the  rage  of  the  Eomau  Catholics,  firing  at  his 
presence,  would  have  put  them  both  to  death. 

The  first  thing  done  was  to  determine  the  laws  of 
the  combat.  Dr.  Eck  proposed  that  the  deputies  of 
the  "Wallenstein  should  be  appointed  to  pronounce  a 
definitive  judgment.  This  was  just  to  anticipate  the 
condemnation  of  the  Reformation.  Thomas  Plater, 
who  had  come  from  Zurich  to  Baden  to  be  present  at 
the  conference,  was  despatched  by  CBcolampadius  to 
Zwingle  to  obtain  his  opinion.  Having  arrived  at 
night,  he  found  some  difticulty  in  gaining  admission 
into  the  reformer's  house.  "  Unfortunate  disturber," 
said  Zwingle  to  him,  rubbing  his  eyes ;  '•  for  six  weeks 
now  (thanks  to  this  discussion)  I  have  not  been  in 
bed.  .  .  What  is  your  message  f  Plater  explained 
the  proposals  of  Dr.  Eck.  "  And  who,"  replied  Zwingle, 
"  would  put  these  peasants  into  a  condition  to  compre- 
hend such  things  ?  "N^erily,  the  milking  of  cows  would 
be  more  inteUigible  to  them." 

On  21st  May,  the  conference  commenced.  Eck  and 
Faber,  accompanied  by  prelates,  magistrates,  and  doc- 
tors, clothed  in  vestments  of  damask  and  silk,  and 
decked  with  rings,  chains,  and  crosses,  repaired  to  the 
church.  Eck  strutted  proudly  into  a  magnificently 
ornamented  pulpit,  while  the  humble  CEcolampadius, 
in  mean  clothing,  had  to  face  his  haughty  opponent  on 
a  platform  of  rude  construction.  "The  whole  time 
the  conference  lasted,"  says  the  chronicler  Bullinger, 
"  Eck  and  his  people  were  lodged  at  the  curacy  of 
Baden,  making  good  cheer,  leading  a  gay  and  scan- 
dalous life,  and  drinking  much  wine,  with  which  the 
abbot  of  Wettingen  supplied  them.  Eck  (it  was  said) 
bathes  at  Baden — in  wine.  The  evangelicals,  on  the 
contrary,  made  a  poor  appearance,  and  were  laughed  at 
as  a  band  of  mendicants.  Their  mode  of  life  contrasted 
strikingly  with  that  of  the  champions  of  the  papacy. 
The  host  of  the  iim  of  the  Pike,  where  Qicolampadius 
lodged,  being  desirous  to  see  what  he  was  doing  in  his 
room,  stated  that,  whenever  he  looked  in,  he  saw  him 
reading  or  praying.  It  uuist  be  confessed  (said  he) 
that  he  is  a  very  pious  heretic." 

The  discussion  lasted  eighteen  days,  and  during  the 
whole  period  the  clergy  of  Baden  daily  made  a  solemn 
procession,  chanting  litanies  in   order  to   obtain   the 


victory.  Eck  was  sole  speaker  in  defence  of  the 
Romish  doctrine.  He  was  still  the  champion  of  the 
Leipsic  discussion,  with  his  German  accent,  his  broad 
shoulders,  and  powerful  lungs,  an  excellent  public  crier, 
with  more  in  his  exterior  of  the  butcher  than  of  the 
divine.  He  debated,  according  to  his  wont,  with  gi-eat 
violence,  trying  to  wound  his  opponents  by  cutting 
expressions,  and  sometimes  even  mincing  an  oath.  But 
the  president  never  called  him  to  order. 

Eck  thumps  the  desk  with  feet  and  hands, 
And  roars,  and  raves,  and  scolds,  and  bans. 
"  Wliat  pope  and  cardinals  propound 
I  hold  as  creed, — ay,  creed  most  sound." 

Qicolampadius,  on  the  contrary,  with  a  serene,  noble, 
and  patriarchal  air,  spoke  so  meekly,  and,  at  the  same 
time,  with  so  much  ability  and  courage,  that  even  his 
adversaries,  moved  and  transported,  said  one  to  another : 
"  Oh  !  Lf  the  tall  yellow  man  were  on  our  side."  His 
equanimity,  however,  was  occasionally  disturbed  on 
seeing  the  enmity  and  violence  of  the  hearers.  "  Oh  !" 
said  he,  "  with  what  impatience  they  listen  to  me ;  but 
God  is  not  wanting  to  His  own  glory,  and  this  is  all 
that  we  seek." 

CEcolampadius,  haviag  attacked  the  first  theses  of 
Dr.  Eck,  which  turned  on  the  real  presence,  Haller, 
who  had  arrived  at  Badeu  after  the  commencement  of 
the  discussion,  entered  the  lists  against  the  second. 
Little  accustomed  to  such  conferences,  of  a  timid  dis- 
position, trammelled  by  the  orders  of  his  government, 
and  embarrassed  by  the  looks  of  his  avoyer,  Gaspard 
Mullinen,  Haller  had  not  the  proud  confidence  of  his 
antagonist ;  but  he  had  more  real  force.  After  Haller 
had  finished,  CEcolampadius  again  entered  the  lists,  and 
pressed  Dr.  Eck  so  closely,  that  he  was  reduced  to  the 
necessity  of  only  appealing  to  the  usage  of  the  Chiu'ch. 
"Usage,"  replied  CEcolampadius,  "has  only  weight  in 
om*  Switzerland  according  to  the  constitution ;  now, 
in  matters  of  faith,  the  constitution  is  the  Bible." 

The  third  theses,  on  the  invocation  of  saints,  the 
fom-th,  on  images,  and  the  fifth,  on  purgatory,  were 
successively  discussed.  Nobody  rose  to  dispute  the 
truth  of  the  two  last  theses,  which  turned  upon  original 
sin  and  baptism. 

Zwingle  took  an  active  part  iu  the  whole  discussion. 
The  Catholic  party,  who  liad  four  secretaries,  had 
forbidden  any  other  person,  under  pain  of  death,  from 
taking  anything  down  in  writing.  But  a  student  of 
the  Valais,  named  Jerome  Wiilscli,  who  possessed  a 
very  retentive  memory,  fixed  what  he  had  heard  in  his 
mind,  and,  hastening  home,  ■\\Tote  it  down.  Thomas 
Plater,  and  Zimmerman  of  Winterthur,  daily  carried 
these  notes  and  letters  from  CEcolampadius  to  Zwingle, 
and  brought  back  the  reformer's  answers.  All  the 
gates  of  Baden  were  guarded  by  soldiers,  armed  with 
halberts;  and  the  two  messcugere  were  obliged,  by 
divers  excuses,  to  elude  the  interrogatories  of  the 
soldiers,  who  did  not  understand  why  these  youths 
were  continually  returning  to  the  town.  Thus  Zwingle, 
though  abseut  from  Baden  in  body,  was  present  iu 
mind. 

He  counselled  and  encouraged  his  friends,  and  re- 
futed his  enemies.  "  Zwingle,"  says  Oswald  Myconius, 
"laboured  more  by  his  meditations,  his  vigils,  and  his 


END  OF  THE  DISCUSSION. 


counsels  sent  to  Baden,  than  he  could  have  dono  by 
debating  personally  in  tlic  midst  of  his  enemies." 

During  the  -whole  conference  the  Koman  Catholics 
kept  np  an  agitation,  sent  letters  in  all  directions,  and 
shouted  victory.  '•  Qicolampadius,"  exclaimed  they, 
'•conquered  by  Dr.  Eck,  and  stretched  out  on  the  arena, 
has  sung  a  palinode.  The  reign  of  the  pope  is  about 
to  be  everywhere  re-established."  Tiicse  shouts  were 
heard  over  all  the  cantons,  and  the  people,  ready  to 
believe  whatever  they  hear,  credited  aU  these  boastings 
of  the  partisans  of  Rome. 

Tl\e  discussion  being  ended,  the  monk  Murner,  of 
Lucerne,  who  was  surnamcd,  "  the  torn  cat,"  came 
forward  aiul  read  forty  accusations  directed  against 
Zwingle.  "I  thought,"  said  he,  "that  the  coward 
would  come  and  answer :  he  has  not  appeared.  Very 
well,  by  all  the  laws  whicli  govern  things  human  and 
divine,  I  declare  forty  times  lliat  the  tyrant  of  Zurich, 
and  all  his  partisans,  are  disloyal  subjects,  liars,  per- 
jurers, adulterei-s,  infidels,  robbei-s,  blasphemers,  true 
gallows  birds ;  and  that  every  honest  man  must  blush 
at  being  in  any  way  connected  with  them."  Such 
were  the  insulting  terms  which,  at  this  early  period, 
doctors,  whom  tiie  Roman  Catholic  Church  herself 
ought  to  have  disclaimed,  decorated  with  the  name  of 
"  Christian  polemics." 

There  was  great  agitation  in  Baden :  the  general 
feeling  being  that  the  Roman  champions  had  made  the 
loudest  noise,  but  used  the  weakest  arguments.  OEco- 
lampadius  and  ten  of  his  friends  were  all  who  signed 
the  rejection  of  Eck's  theses,  whereas  eighty-four 
persons,  among  whom  were  the  presidents  of  the  dis- 
cussion and  all  the  monks  of  Wittemberg,  adhered  to 
them.  Haller  had  left  Baden  before  the  end  of  the 
conference. 

Tiie  majority  of  the  diet  then  decided  that  Zwingle, 
the  licad  of  this  pernicious  doctrine,  having  refused  to 
appear,  and  the  ministers  who  had  come  to  Baden 
having  refused  to  be  convinced,  they  were  all  cast 
out  of  the  universal  Church. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

L'...iis<-.|ii.jiicc5  at  Bile.'Berne,  St  Gall,  and  other  n.-iccs— Diet  at  Zuiicli— 
The  Small  Cautons— Menaces  at  Berne— Foreign  Aid. 

Blt  this  famous  conference,  due  to  the  zeal  of  the 
oligarclis  and  clergy,  was  to  prove  fatal  to  both.  Those 
who  had  then  contended  for  the  Gospel,  on  retui'uiug 
to  their  firesides,  were  to  fill  their  fellow-citizens  with 
enthusiasm  for  the  cause  which  tliey  had  defended  ; 
and  two  of  the  most  important  cantons  of  the  Helvetic 
alliance  were  tlienceforth  to  begin  to  break  off  all  con- 
nection with  the  papacy. 

It  was  on  CEcolampadius,  a  stranger  to  Switzerland, 
that  the  first  blows  were  to  fall,  and  he  returned  to 
Bale  not  without  some  misgivings.  But  his  dis- 
quietude was  soon  dissipated.  His  mild  sentences  had 
struck  impartial  witnesses  more  than  the  clamour  of 
Dr.  Eck,  and  he  was  received  -with  acclamation  by  all 
pious  men.    The  adversary,  it  is  true,  used  every  effort 


to  exclude  him  from  the  pulpit,  but  in  vain;  he  taught 
and  preached  more  forcibly  than  before,  and  never  had 
the  people  shewn  such  thirst  for  the  Word. 

Similar  results  followed  at  Berne.  The  conference 
of  Baden,  which  was  to  have  stilled  the  Reformation, 
gave  it  a  new  impulse  in  this  canton, — the  most  power- 
ful in  the  whole  Swiss  confederation.  jN'o  sooner  did 
Haller  arrive  in  the  capital,  than  the  little  council  sum- 
moned him  to  appear,  and  ordered  him  to  celebrate 
mass.  Haller  demanded  to  be  heard  before  the  great 
council ;  and  the  people,  feeling  bound  to  defend  their 
pastor,  flocked  in  crowds.  Haller,  alarmed,  declared 
that  ho  would  sooner  leave  the  town  than  be  the  cause 
of  any  disturbance.  Tranquility  being  restored,  the 
reformer  said  :  '•  If  I  am  required  to  celebrate  this 
ceremony,  I  resign  my  charge ;  the  honour  of  God  and 
the  truth  of  His  holy  Word,  are  dearer  to  my  heart 
than  any  anxiety  as  to  what  I  shall  eat,  or  where- 
withal 1  shall  be  clothed."  Haller  spoke  these  words 
with  deej)  emotion  ;  the  members  of  the  council  were 
affected ;  even  some  of  his  opponents  shed  tears. 
Moderation  proved  still  stronger  than  force.  To  give 
Rome  some  satisfaction,  Haller  was  dei)rived  of  his 
office  as  canon,  but  was  appointed  preacher.  His 
most  violent  enemies,  Louis  and  Antliony  Diesbach, 
and  Anthony  Erlach,  indignant  at  this  resolution, 
immediately  left  the  council  and  the  town,  and  re- 
nounced their  right  of  citizenship.  "  Berne  has  had  a 
fall,"  said  Haller  ;  "  but  it  has  risen  with  more  power 
than  ever."  This  firmness  of  the  Bernese  produced  a 
great  impression  in  Switzerland. 

But  the  consequences  of  the  conference  of  Baden 
were  not  confined  to  Berne  and  Bale.  While  these 
things  were  taking  ])lace  there,  a  movement,  more  or 
less  similar,  was  taking  place  in  several  of  the  states 
of  the  confederation.  The  preachers  of  St.  Gall,  on 
their  return  from  Baden,  preached  the  Gospel:  at  the 
end  of  a  conference,  the  images  were  removed  from  the 
parochial  church  of  St.  Lawrence,  and  the  inhabitants 
sold  their  most  valuable  articles  of  dress,  their  jewels, 
.  their  rings,  their  gold  chains,  to  found  houses  of  charity. 
The  Reformation  spoiled,  but  it  was  to  clothe  the  poor ; 
and  the  spoils  were  those  of  the  reformers  themselves. 

At  Mulhausen  the  Gospel  was  preached  with  new 
courage.  Thurgovia  and  the  Rhienthal  always  approx- 
imated more  and  more  to  Zurich.  Immediately  after 
the  discussion,  Zurzach  carried  off  the  images  of  its 
chiu'ches ;  and  the  district  of  Baden  almost  everywhere 
received  the  Gospel. 

Nothing  more  is  better  fitted  than  such  facts  to 
prove  to  which  party  the  victory  truly  belonged.  Ac- 
cordingly Zwingle,  on  looking  around  him,  gave  glory 
to  God.  "We  are  attacked  in  many  ways,"  said  he, 
'*  but  the  Lord  is  stronger  not  only  than  menaces,  but 
also  than  wars  themselves.  In  the  town  and  canton 
of  Zurich  there  is  an  admirable  agreement  in  favour 
of  the  Gospel.  We  will  surmount  all  difliculties  by 
prayers  offered  up  in  faith."  Shortly  after  addressing 
Haller,  Zwingle  said  to  him  :  "  Everything  here  below 
follows  its  destiny.  To  the  boistcroug  blast  of  the 
north,  succeeds  a  gentler  breeze.  After  the  broiling 
days  of  summer,  autumn  pours  its  treasures  into  our 
lap.  And  now,  after  severe  combats,  the  Creator  of 
all  things,  in  whose  service  we  are,  opens  the  way  for 


356 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


us  into  tlie  heart  of  the  enemy's  camp.  We  are  still 
able  to  receive  Christian  doctrine,  that  dove  so  long 
driven  off,  but  which  never  ceased  waiting  to  spy  the 
hour  of  its  return.  Be  thou  the  Noah  to  receive  and 
save  it."     ... 

This  same  year  Zurich  had  made  an  important  ac- 
quisition. Conrad  Pellican,  guardian  of  the  Franciscan 
convent  at  Biile,  and  professor  of  theology  at  twenty- 
four,  had  been  invited,  by  the  exertions  of  Zwingle,  to 
be  professor  of  Hebrew  at  Zurich.  "It  is  long,"  said 
he  on  arriving,  "since  I  have  renounced  the  pope,  and 
desire  only  to  live  for  Jesus  Christ."  Pellican,  by 
his  energetical  talents,  became  one  of  the  most  useful 
labourers  in  the  work  of  the  Reformation. 

Zurich  continuing  to  be  excluded  from  the  diet  by 
the  Romish  cantons,  and  wishing  to  take  advantage  of 
the  better  dispositions  manifested  by  some  of  the  con- 
federates, in  the  beginning  of  1527,  summoned  a  diet, 
to  be  held  at  Zurich  itself.  The  deputies  of  Berne, 
Bale,  Schaffliausen,  Appenzell,  and  St.  Gall,  repaired 
to  it.  "  We  wish,"  said  the  deputies  of'  Zurich,  "  that 
the  Word  of  God,  which  alone  leads  us  to  Christ  cru- 
cified, should  alone  be  preached,  alone  taught,  alone 
magnified.  We  abandon  all  human  doctrines,  what- 
ever may  have  been  the  ancient  customs  of  our  fore- 
fathers, certain  that  if  they  had  had  the  light  of  the 
Divine  Word  which  we  enjoy,  tliey  would  have  em- 
braced it  with  more  respect  than  we,  their  feeble 
descendants,  do."  The  deputies  present  promised  to 
take  the  representations  of  Zurich  into  consideration. 

Thus  the  breach  which  had  been  made  in  Rome  be- 
came larger  every  day.  The  discussion  of  Baden  was 
to  have  repaired  all  her  losses,  and  thereafter,  on  the 
contrary,  cantons  which  had  been  undecided  were  dis- 
posed to  go  hand  in  hand  with  Zurich.  The  inhabitants 
of  the  plain  already  inclined  to  the  Reformation  ;  and 
now  she  drew  closer  to  the  mountains,  and  invaded 
them,  while  the  primitive  cantons,  which  were  in  a 
manner  the  cradle,  and  are  still  in  a  manner  the  citadel 
of  Switzerland,  hemmed  in  by  their  high  Alps,  seemed 
alone  firmly  to  maintain  the  doctrine  of  their  fathers. 
These  mountaineers,  continually  exposed  to  violent 
tempests,  to  avalanches,  to  the  overflow  of  torrents 
and  rivers,  have  to  struggle  all  their  lives  against  these 
formidable  enemies,  and  to  sacrifice  everything  to  pre- 
serve the  meadow  that  pastures  their  flocks,  and  the 
hut  which  shelters  them  from  the  storm,  but  which 
the  first  inundation  sweeps  away.  Accordingly,  a 
conservative  instinct  is  strongly  developed  in  them, 
and  has  for  ages  been  transmitted  from  generation  to 
generation.  To  preserve  what  they  have  received 
from  their  fathers,  is  the  only  wisdom  recognised  in 
these  mountains.  Tliese  rude  Helvetians  accordingly 
struggled  against  the  Reformation,  which  sought  to 
change  their  faith  and  worship,  as  they  struggle  still 
against  the  torrents  which  dash  down  from  their  snowy 
peaks,  or  against  the  new  political  ideas  which  are 
established  at  their  threshold  in  the  cantons  around 
them.  They  will  be  the  last  to  lay  down  their  arms 
before  the  double  power  which  is  already  displaying 
its  signals  on  all  the  surrounding  hills,  and  more  closely 
threatening  these  conservative  districts. 

Accordingly,  at  the  period  of  which  I  speak,  these 
cantons,  still  more  irritated  against  Berne  than  against 


Ziu-ich,  and  trembling  when  they  saw  this  powerful 
state  escaping  from  them,  called  a  meeting  of  their 
deputies  at  Berne  itself,  eight  days  after  the  conference 
of  Zm-ich.  They  called  upon  the  council  to  depose  the 
new  teachers,  to  proscribe  their  doctrines,  and  to  main- 
tain the  ancient  and  true  Christian  faith,  as  it  had 
been  confirmed  by  centuries  and  confessed  by  martyrs. 
"Assemble  all  the  bailiwicks  of  the  canton:  if  you 
refuse,  we  wUl  take  it  upon  ourselves."  The  Bernese 
felt  irritated,  and  replied:  "We  are  able  enough  to 
speak  to  our  own  constitutents." 

This  reply  only  increased  the  wrath  of  the  Wald- 
stettes ;  and  those  cantons  which  had  been  the  cradle 
of  the  political  liberty  of  Switzerland,  alarmed  at  the 
progress  which  religious  liberty  was  making,  began 
even  to  look  abroad  for  allies  to  destroy  it.  In  com- 
bating the  enemies  of  enlistments,  an  appeal  might  be 
made  to  enlistments  themselves ;  and  if  the  oligarchs 
of  Switzerland  were  insufRcient,  was  it  not  natural  to 
have  recourse  to  the  princes,  their  allies?  In  fact, 
Austria,  which  had  not  been  able  to  maintain  its  power 
in  the  confederation,  was  ready  to  interpose  for  the 
purpose  of  then  strengthening  the  power  of  Rome. 
Berne  heard  with  dismay  that  Ferdinand,  brother  of 
Charles  V.,  was  making  preparations  against  Zurich, 
and  against  all  the  adherents  of  the  Reformation. 

Circumstances  were  becoming  more  critical.  A 
succession  of  events  more  or  less  unfortunate ;  the  suc- 
cesses of  the  Anabaptists;  the  disputes  with  Luther 
about  the  Supper,  and  others  besides,  seemed  to  have, 
in  a  great  measure,  compromised  the  Reformation 
in  Switzerland.  The  discussion  of  Baden  had  dis- 
appointed the  hopes  of  the  friends  of  the  papacy;  and 
the  sword  which  they  had  brandished  against  their 
enemies,  had  broken  in  their  hands ;  but  spite-  and 
anger  had  increased,  and  a  new  effort  was  prepared. 
Already,  even  the  imperial  power  began  to  put  itself 
in  motion,  and  the  Austrian  bands,  which  had  been 
forced  to  flee  from  the  defiles  of  Mergarten  and  the 
heights  of  Sempach,  were  ready  again  to  enter  Swit- 
zerland, with  colours  flying,  to  give  strength  to  totter- 
ing Rome.  The  moment  was  decisive.  It  was  no 
longer  possible  to  chime  in  with  both  parties,  and  be 
neither  "  muddy  nor  clear."  Berne  and  other  cantons, 
which  had  so  long  been  hesitating,  behoved  to  come  to 
a  determination.  It  was  necessary  to  return  promptly 
to  the  papacy,  or  rally  with  new  courage  under  the 
standard  of  Christ. 

A  Frenchman,  from  the  mountains  of  Dauphiuy,  by 
name  William  Fare],  at  this  time  gave  a  powerful  im- 
pulse to  Switzerland,  determined  the  Reformation  of 
Romish-Helvetia,  which  was  still  in  a  profound  sleep, 
and  thus  turned  the  balance  throughout  the  confedera- 
tion in  favour  of  the  new  doctrines.  Farel  arrived  on 
the  field  of  battle  like  those  fresh  troops  which,  at  tlie 
moment  when  the  fate  of  arms  is  still  uncertain,  rush 
into  the  thickest  of  the  fight  and  carry  the  day.  He 
prepared  the  way  in  Switzerland  for  another  French- 
man, whose  stern  faith  and  powerful  genius  were  to 
put  a  finishing  hand  to  the  Reformation,  and  render  it 
a  complete  work.  In  this  way,  by  means  of  these 
illustrious  men,  France  took  rank  in  the  great  move- 
ment which  was  agitating  Christian  society.  It  is 
time  to  turn  our  eye  toward  her. 


ENEMIES  OF  THE  REFORMATION  IN  FRANCE. 


BOOK     XII. 


THE    FKENCn. — 1500-1526. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Universality  of  Christianity— Enemies  of  Uio  Reformation  in  Fr.mee— 
Heri'sy  niul  Persecution  in  Dauphiny— A  Gentleman's  Family— Tlie 
Family  Farcl— PilgTim.ve  to  St.  Croix— Immorality  and  Superstition- 
William  desires  to  become  a  Student. 

Universality  is  one  of  the  essentiiil  features  of  Chris- 
liiinity.  It  is  not  tiius  with  religions  of  human  origin. 
Tiiey  adapt  themselves  to  certain  nations,  and  to  the 
degi-oe  of  culture  which  they  have  attained.  They 
keep  these  nations  fixed  at  a  certain  point,  or  if  by  any 
extraordinary  circumstance  these  nations  rise  in  the 
scale,  religion  being  left  behind  thereby  becomes  useless. 

There  was  an  Egyptian,  a  Greek,  a  Latin,  and  even 
a.  Jewish  religion;  Ciiristianity  is  the  only  religion  for 
the  whole  human  race. 

Its  point  of  departure  in  man  is  sin — a  characteristic 
which  belongs  not  to  a  single  tribe,  but  is  the  inherit- 
ance of  humanity.  Accordingly,  satisfying  the  most 
universal  and  the  most  elevated  wants  of  our  nature, 
the  Gospel  is  received  as  coming  from  God  by  the 
most  barbarous  tribes,  and  the  most  civilized  nations. 
It  does  not  consecrate  national  peculiarities,  as  did  the 
religions  of  antiquity;  but  neither  does  it  destroy  them 
as  modern  cosmopolism  would  do.  It  does  better ;  it 
sanctifies,  ennobles,  elevates  them  to  a  holy  unity  by 
the  new  and  living  principle  which  it  imparts  to  them. 

The  introduction  of  Christianity  into  the  world  has 
produced  a  great  revolution  in  history.  Till  then  there 
was  only  a  liistory  of  particular  nations ;  now  there  is 
a  history  of  humanity.  The  idea  of  an  universal 
education  of  the  human  race,  accomplished  by  Jesus 
Christ,  has  become  the  historian's  compass — the  key  of 
history,  and  the  hope  of  nations. 

But  Christianity  not  merely  acts  on  all  nations,  it 
acts  on  all  periods  of  their  history. 

At  the  moment  when  it  appeared,  the  world  was  like 
a  torch  on  the  point  of  being  extinguished.  Chris- 
tianity made  it  revive  as  a  celestial  light. 

At  a  later  period  the  barbai'iaus,  rushing  upon  the 
Roman  empire,  had  broken  down  and  confounded 
everything.  Christianity,  opposing  the  cross  to  this 
devastating  torrent,  thereby  subdued  the  wild  child  of 
the  north,  and  g.ive  humanity  a  new  form. 

A  corrupting  element,  however,  was  already  hidden 
in  the  religion  brouglxt  by  intrepid  missionaries  to  these 
rude  tribes.  Their  faith  came  from  Rome  almost  as 
much  as  from  the  Bible.  This  element  rapidly  in- 
creased :  man  was  everywhere  substituted  for  God,  (an 
essential  feature  in  the  Romish  Church,)  and  a  renova- 
tion of  religion  became  necessary.  Christianity  accom- 
plisiied  it  at  the  period  of  which  we  write. 

The  history  of  the  Reformation  in  the  countries 
which  we  have  already  surveyed,  has  shewn  how  the 


new  doctrine  rejected  the  extravagances  of  the  Ana- 
baptists and  the  new  prophets;  but  infidelity  is  the 
obstacle  wliich  it  encounters,  especially  in  the  kingdom 
towards  which  we  now  turn.  Nowhere  had  bolder 
protests  been  taken  against  tlia  superstitions  and  abuses 
of  the  Church.  Nowhere  was  there  seen  a  more  power- 
ful development  of  a  certain  love  of  letters, — a  love 
which,  independent  of  Christianity,  often  leads  to 
irreligion.  France  carried  in  her  bosom  at  the  same 
time  two  reformations — the  one  of  man,  the  other  of 
God.  Two  nations  are  in  thy  womb,  and  two  manner  of 
people  shall  be  separated  from  thy  bowels,  (Gen.  xxv.  23.) 

In  France,  not  only  liad  the  Reformation  to  combat 
infidelity  as  well  as  superstition,  there  was  a  third 
enemy  which  it  had  not  encountered,  at  least  in  so 
powerful  a  form  among  the  Germanic  nations, — I  mean 
immorality.  The  disorders  in  the  Church  were  great ; 
debauchery  sat  upon  the  throne  of  Francis  I.  and 
Catherine  de  Medicis,  and  the  stern  virtues  of  the 
reformers  irritated  these  "  Sardanapaluses."  Every- 
where, no  doubt,  but  especially  in  France,  the  Refor- 
mation behoved  to  be  not  only  doctrinal  and  eccle- 
siastical, but  also  moral. 

The  violent  enemies  whom  the  Reformation  thus 
encountered  at  the  very  outset  among  the  French, 
stamped  it  with  a  peculiar  character.  Nowhere  did  it 
dwell  so  much  in  dungeons,  and  resemble  primitive 
Christianity  in  faith  and  charity,  and  the  number  of  its 
martyrs.  If,  in  the  countries  of  wliich  we  have  hither- 
to spoken,  the  Reformation  was  more  glorious  by  its 
triumphs  in  those  to  which  our  attention  is  now  to  be 
directed,  it  was  rendered  more  glorious  by  its  defeats. 
If  elsewhere  it  can  shew  more  thrones  and  sovereign 
councils,  here  it  can  enumerate  more  scaffolds  and 
meetings  in  the  wilderness.  Whoever  knows  what 
constitutes  the  true  glory  of  Christianity  on  the  earth, 
and  the  features  which  give  it  a  resemblance  to  its 
Head,  will,  with  a  deep  feeling  of  respect  and  love, 
study  the  history — the  oftentimes  bloody  history — 
which  we  are  going  to  relate. 

The  most  of  the  men  who  have  shone  on  the  stage 
of  the  world  were  born  in  the  provinces,  and  there 
began  to  be  developed.  Paris  is  a  tree  which  presents 
to  the  eye  a  great  deal  of  blossom  and  fruit;  but  a  tree 
whose  roots  spread  far  into  tlie  bowels  of  the  earth  in 
search  of  the  nourishing  juices  which  these  assimilate. 
The  Reformation  also  followed  this  law. 

The  Alps,  which  saw  Christian  and  intrepid  men 
appear  in  every  canton,  and  almost  in  every  valley 
of  Switzerland,  were  in  France  also  to  throw  their 
gigantic  shadows  over  the  childhood  of  some  of  the 
first  reformers.  There  were  ages  when  they  kept  the 
treasure  more  or  less  pure  in  their  high  valleys,  among 
the  inhabitants  of  the  Piedmontese  districts  of  Luzerne, 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


Angrogue,  Peyrouse.  The  trutli,  which  Rome  had  not 
been  able  to  attack  there,  had  spread  from  these  valleys 
along  the  slopes  and  at  the  foot  of  these  mountains  in 
Provence  and  Dauphiny. 

The  year  after  the  accession  of  Charles  YIII.,  sou 
of  Louis  XI.,  a  sickly,  timid  child.  Innocent  VIII.  had 
encircled  his  brow  with  the  pontifical  tiara,  (1484.)  He 
had  seven  or  eight  sons  by  different  mothers;  and 
hence,  according  to  an  epigram  of  the  time,  Rome  was 
unanimous  ia  saluting  him  by  the  name  of  Father. 

There  was  at  this  time  on  all  the  slopes  of  the  Alps 
of  Dauphiny,  and  along  all  the  banks  of  the  Durance, 
a  tinge  of  ancient  Vaudois  principles.  "  The  roots," 
says  an  ancient  chronicler,  "  were  constantly  and 
everywhere  setting  out  new  saplings."  Bold  men 
termed  the  Romish  Church  the  church  of  the  evil 
ones,  and  maintained  that  it  is  as  profitable  to  pray  iu 
a  stable  as  in  a  chiu-ch. 

The  priests,  bishops,  and  legates  of  Rome  sent  forth 
a  cry  of  alarm,  and  on  the  fifth  of  the  calends  of  May, 
1487,  Innocent  VIII.,  the  father  of  the  Romans, 
launched  a  bull  at  these  humble  Christians.  "To 
arms!"  said  the  pontiff,  "and  trample  these  heretics 
under  foot  as  venomous  asps." 

At  the  approach  of  the  legate — followed  by  an  army 
of  eighteen  thousand  men,  and  a  multitude  of  volun- 
teers who  wished  to  share  the  spoil — the  Vaudois 
abandoned  their  dwellings,  and  withdrew  to  the  moun- 
tains, to  caverns,  and  the  clefts  of  rocks,  as  birds  fly 
away  the  moment  the  tempest  begins  to  grumble.  Not 
a  valley,  not  a  wood,  not  a  rock  escaped  the  perse- 
cutors ;  everywhere  in  this  part  of  the  Alps,  and  parti- 
cularly in  the  direction  of  Italy,  these  poor  disciples  of 
Christ  were  tracked  like  deer.  At  length  the  satellites 
of  the  pope  grew  weary,  their  strength  was  exhausted, 
their  feet  could  no  longer  climb  the  steep  retreats  of 
"  the  heretics,"  and  their  arms  refused  to  strike. 

In  these  Alpine  countries,  thus  agitated  by  the 
fanaticism  of  Rome,  about  three  leagues  from  the 
ancient  town  of  Gap,'  in  the  direction  of  Greuoble,  not 
far  from  the  flowery  turf  which  carpets  the  flat  top 
of  the  mountain  of  Bayard,  at  the  bottom  of  mount 
Aiguille,  and  near  the  Col  de  Glaize,  not  far  from 
where  the  Buzon  takes  its  rise,  there  was,  and  still  is, 
a  group  of  houses  half  hid  by  trees,  and  which  bears 
the  name  of  Farel,  or  in  provincial  dialect,  Fareau.^ 
On  an  extensive  terrace  raised  above  the  neighbouring 
huts  there  stood  one  of  those  houses  which  are  called 
mansion-houses.  It  was  surrounded  by  an  orchard, 
which  was  continued  to  the  village.  There,  in  those 
troublous  times,  lived,  as  it  appears,  a  noble  family  of 
known  piety,  of  the  name  of  Farel.  In  the  year  when 
the  papacy  displayed  its  greatest  severities  in  Dauphiny, 
in  the  year  1489,  was  born,  in  this  modest  residence, 
a  son  who  was  named  "William.  Three  brothers — 
Daniel,  Walter,  and  Claude,  and  a  sister — grew  up 

1  Principal  town  in  the  High  Alps. 

a  Survey  of  Dauphiny,  July,  1837,  p.  35.  In  going  from  Grenoble  to  Gap, 
about  a  quarter  of  an  hour  after  passing  the  last  stage,  about  a  stone-cast 
to  the  right  of  the  public  road,  is  seen  the  village  of  the  Farels.  The  terrace 
on  which  the  house  of  Farel's  father  stood  is  still  shewn.  It  is  now,  indeed, 
only  occupied  as  a  hut ;  but  wo  see,  by  its  dimensions,  that  it  is  much 
larger  than  an  ordinai-y  house.  The  occupier  of  the  lint  bears  the  name  of 
Farel.    I  owe  this  information  to  Mr.  IBIanc,  pastor  of  Mens. 


with  William,  and  shared  his  sports  on  the  banks  of 
the  Buzon,  and  at  the  foot  of  the  Bayard. 

There  passed  William's  childhood  and  early  youth. 
His  father  and  mother  wore  most  devoted  servants  of 
the  papacy.  He  says  himself :  "  My  father  and  mother 
believed  everything;"  they  accordingly  brought  up 
their  children  in  all  the  observances  of  Rome. 

God  had  endowed  William  Farel  with  rare  qualities, 
iitted  to  give  him  an  ascendancy  over  others.  Of  a 
penetrating  intellect,  a  lively  imagination,  great  sin- 
cerity and  uprightness,  and  a  greatness  of  soul  which 
would  not  allow  him,  for  any  consideration,  to  betray 
the  convictions  of  his  heart ;  he  had,  moreover,  an 
ardour,  a  fire,  an  indomitable  courage,  an  intrepidity 
which  recoiled  at  no  obstacle.  But,  at  the  same  time, 
he  had  the  faults  which  accompany  these  qualities, 
and  his  parents  had  frequent  occasion  to  check  his 
violence. 

William  entered  with  his  whole  soul  into  the  super- 
stitious views  of  his  credulous  family.  "  I  am  horri- 
fied," said  he,  "  when  I  tliink  of  the  hours,  the  prayers, 
and  Divine  services,  which  I  have  paid,  and  caused  to 
be  paid,  to  the  cross  and  other  such  like  things." 

Four  leagues  to  the  south  of  Gap,  near  Tallard,  on 
a  mountain  which  rises  above  the  impetuous  waters  of 
the  Durance,  was  a  place  in  high  repute,  named  St. 
Croix.  When  William  was  scarcely  seven  or  eight 
years  of  age,  his  parents  resolved  to  take  him  on  a 
pilgrimage.  "The  cross  at  this  place,"  said  they,  "is 
made  of  the  real  wood  on  which  Jesus  Christ  was 
crucified." 

The  family  set  out,  and  at  length  reached  the  vene- 
rated cross,  before  tvhich  they  prostrated  themselves. 
After  considering  the  sacred  wood  and  the  copper  of 
the  cross,  made,  said  the  priest,  of  the  basin  in  which 
our  Lord  washed  His  disciples'  feet,  the  eyes  of  the 
pilgrims  were  directed  to  a  little  crucifix  attached  to 
the  cross.  "  When  the  devils,"  resumed  the  priest, 
"make  hail  and  thunder,  this  crucifix  moves  so  that 
it  seems  to  detach  itself  from  the  cross,  as  if  wishing 
to  rush  against  the  devil.  It  also  throws  out  fiery 
sparks  previous  to  bad  weather — did  it  not  do  so  the 
whole  fruits  of  the  earth  would  be  destroyed." 

The  pious  pilgrims  were  deeply  moved  on  being  told 
of  these  great  prodigies.  "No  one,"  continued  the 
priest,  "  knows  and  sees  any  of  these  things  save  I  and 
this  man."  .  .  .  The  pilgrims  turned  round  and 
stiw  a  man  near  them  of  a  strange  exterior.  "His 
very  appearance  caused  fear,"  says  Farel.  There  were 
white  specks  on  the  balls  of  both  his  eyes — "  whether 
they  were  real,  or  Satan  only  made  a  semblance  of 
them."  This  extraordinary  man,  whom  the  unbeliev- 
ing called  "  the  priest's  sorcerer,"  being  appealed  to  by 
the  priest,  immediately  confirmed  his  statements.  A 
new  episode  completed  the  picture,  and  to  superstition 
added  a  suspicion  of  criminal  irregularities.  "  Lo  !  a 
young  female,  who  had  some  other  devotion  than  the 
cross,  carrying  an  infant  under  her  cloak.  Then  the 
priest  came  forward,  and  taking  the  woman  and  the 
child,  led  them  within  the  chapel.  I  venture  to  say, 
ne'er  did  dancer  take  a  female  and  lead  her  off  iu 
better  style.  But  the  blindness  was  such  that  no 
regard  was  paid  to  this.  Had  they  even  acted  inde- 
cently before  us,  we  should  still  have  deemed  it  good 


WILLIAM  FAKEL  DESIRES  TO  STUDY. 


359 


aud  holy.  It  was  too  clear  tlmt  the  woman  ami  Iii'i- 
giillant  of  a  priest  well  knew  the  niirack'.  ami  iiiadc  it 
a  cover  to  their  intercourse." 

AVe  have  here  a  faithful  picture  of  the  religion  and 
manners  of  France  at  the  commencement  of  the  Refor- 
mation. Morality  and  doctrine  were  equally  poisoned, 
aud  a  powerful  revival  was  required  for  both.  The 
pi-eater  the  value  men  attached  to  external  works,  the 
farther  they  were  removed  ft-om  holiness  of  heart ; 
dead  ordinances  had  everywhere  been  substituted  for 
the  Christian  life,  and  (strange,  yet  natural  union)  the 
most  scandalous  protiigacy  was  seen  united  to  the  most 
superstitious  devotion.  Theft  had  been  perpetrated 
before  the  altar,  seduction  at  the  confessional,  poison- 
ing in  the  mass,  adultery  at  the  foot  of  a  cross — 
superstition,  by  destroying  doctrine,  had  destroyed 
morality. 

Still  there  were  numerous  exceptions  in  Christen- 
dom during  the  Middle  Ages.  A  faith,  even  thougli 
superstitious,  may  be  sincere.  Of  this  William  Farel 
is  an  instance.  The  same  zeal  that  at  a  later  period 
carried  him  to  so  many  places  to  spread  the  knowledge 
of  Jesus  Christ,  now  drew  him  to  e\-ery  place  where 
the  Church  exliibited  some  miracle,  or  claimed  some 
adoration.  Dauphiny  had  its  seven  wonders,  which 
had  long  woi-ked  upon  the  imagination  of  its  inhabi- 
tants. But  there  were  also  in  the  natural  beauties 
with  which  it  is  surrounded  objects  that  might  well 
raise  their  souls  to  the  Creator. 

The  magnificent  chain  of  the  Alps,  those  summits 
covered  with  eternal  snow,  those  vast  rocks  which 
sometimes  throw  up  their  sharp  peaks  into  the  air, 
sometimes  extend  their  brokeu  ridges  beyond  the 
clouds,  where  they  seem  like  some  solitary  island  in 
the  skies;  all  these  sublimities  of  creation  which  were 
then  elevating  the  soul  of  Ulricli  Zwiugle  in  the  Tock- 
enburg,  were  also  speaking  i)owerfully  to  the  heart 
of  William  Farel  in  the  mountains  of  Dauphiny.  He 
was  thirsting  for  life,  light,  and  knowledge  ;  his  aspira- 
tions wore  for  something  great;  ...  he  asked 
leave  to  study. 

This  was  a  great  blow  to  his  father,  who  thought 
that  a  young  noble  ought  to  know  only  his  rosary  and 
his  sword.  At  this  time  the  country  was  ringing  with 
the  fame  of  a  young  countryman  of  AV^illiam  Farel, 
from  Dauphiny  like  himself,  named  Du  Terrail,  but 
better  known  by  the  name  of  Bayard,  who,  at  the 
battle  of  Tar,  on  the  other  side  of  the  Alps,  had  given 
a  signal  display  of  courage.  "  Such  sons,"  it  was  said, 
"  are  like  arrows  in  the  hand  of  a  mighty  man.  Happy 
the  man  who  has  his  quiver  filled  with  them."  Farcl's 
father,  accordingly,  opposed  his  son's  inclination  for 
study.  But  the  young  man  was  inflexible.  God 
designed  l.im  for  nobler  contests  than  those  of  Bayard. 
He  continually  returned  to  the  charge,  and  at  last  the 
old  gentleman  yielded. 

Fiu-el  immediatelydevoted  himself  to  his  task  with 
astonishing  ardour.  The  masters  whom  he  found  in 
Dauphiny  were  of  little  use  to  him,  and  he  had  to 
struggle  against  the  bad  methods  and  trifling  of  his 
preceptors.  These  dilticultics  only  stimidated  him,  and 
he  had  soon  surmounted  them.  His  brothers  followed 
his  example.  Daniel  ultimately  became  a  politician, 
and  was  employed  in  some  important  negotiations  con- 


ceriiiug  religion.     Gaultre  gained  the  entire  confidence 
of  the  Count  of  Furstcmberg. 

Farel,  having  learned  all  that  could  be  learned  in 
his  i)rovince,  and  still  feeling  eager  for  knowledge, 
turned  his  eyes  to  another  tpiarter.  The  university  of 
Paris  had  long  been  renowned  over  the  Christian 
world.  He  was  desirous  to  see  "  this  mother  of  all  the 
sciences,  this  true  light  of  the  Church  which  never 
suffers  an  eclipse,  this  pure  and  polished  mirror  of  the 
faitii  which  no  cloud  obscures,  and  no  touch  stains." 
He  obtained  permission  from  his  parents,  aud  set  out 
for  the  capital  of  France. 


CHAPTER  LL 

Louis  XII.  aud  the  Assembly  of  Towrs— Franeij  and  Margaret— The  Literati 
— Lefevre— His  Teachiug  at  the  University— Lefevre  and  Farel  meet— 
D.)ubts  and  Inquiries  of  Farel— First  Awakening— Pi-ophecy  of  Lefevre 
—He  Teaches  Justilleation  byFuitb-Olijectious— Irregularities  in  Col- 
leges—Effects on  Farel- Election- Holiness  of  Life. 

One  day,  in  the  year  1510,  or  shortly  after,  the  young 
stranger  from  Dauphiny  arrived  in  Paris.  The  pro- 
vince life  had  made  him  an  ardent  follower  of  the 
papacy — the  capital  was  to  make  him  something  dif- 
ferent. The  Reformation  in  France  was  not  to  come 
forth  from  a  small  town,  as  it  did  in  Germany.  All 
the  impetus  which  agitate  the  population  proceed  from 
the  metropolis.  At  the  commencement  of  the  sixteenth 
century  various  providential  circumstances  concurred 
to  make  Paris  a  kind  of  focus  from  which  a  spark  of  fire 
might  easily  escape.  The  youth  from  the  neighbour- 
hood of  Gap,  who  now  arrived,  humble  and  unknown, 
was  to  receive  this  spark  into  his  heart.  Several 
others  received  it  with  him. 

Louis  Xn.,  the  father  of  his  people,  has  just  called 
a  convocation  of  the  French  clergy  at  Tours.  This 
prince  seems  to  have  anticipated  the  days  of  the  Refor- 
mation ;  so  much  so,  that  had  this  great  revolution 
taken  place  during  his  reign,  all  France  might,  perhaps, 
have  been  Protestant.  The  assembly  of  Tours  had 
declared  that  the  king  was  entitled  to  make  war  on 
the  pope,  and  execute  the  decrees  of  the  Council  of 
Biile.  These  decrees  were  the  subject  of  general  con- 
versation in  the  colleges,  as  well  as  in  the  city  and  at 
court,  and  must  have  made  a  deep  impression  on  young 
Farel's  mind. 

Two  children  were  then  growing  up  at  the  court  of 
France.  The  one  was  a  young  prince  of  a  tall  and 
striking  figure,  who  shewed  little  moderation  in  his 
character,  and  recklessly  followed  any  course  that  pas- 
sion dictated.  Hence  the  king  was  wont  to  say:  "This 
great  boy  will  spoil  all."  This  was  Francis  of  Angou- 
lemc,  duke  of  Valois,  and  cousin  to  the  king.  Boisy, 
his  preceptor,  however,  taught  him  to  honour  literature. 

Beside  Francis  was  his  sister  Margaret,  two  yeai's 
older  than  he,  "a  princess,"  says  Brantome,  "of  very 
great  wit  aud  ability,  as  well  natural  as  acquii-ed." 
Accordingly,  Louis  XII.  had  spared  nothing  on  her 
education,  and  the  most  learned  men  in  the  kingdom 
hastened  to  acknowledge  her  as  their  patroness. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


In  fact  a  body  of  distinguished  characters  already 
surrounded  Francis  and  Margaret  of  Valois.  "William 
Bade,  who,  at  twenty-three,  given  up  to  his  passions, 
and  especially  to  the  chase, — living  only  for  his  birds, 
horses,  and  dogs, — had  all  at  once  stopped  short,  sold 
his  equipage,  and  begun  to  study  with  the  same  ardour 
which  had  led  him,  amid  his  hounds,  to  scour  the  fields 
and  forests ;  the  physician  Cop ;  Francis  Vatablo,  a 
wonder  to  the  Jewish  masters  themselves  for  the  extent 
of  his  knowledge  of  Hebrew ;  James  Tusan,  a  cele- 
brated Greek  scholar;  and  other  literati  besides,  encour- 
aged by  Stephen  Poncber,  bishop  of  Paris,  by  Louis 
Ruze,  civil  lieutenant,  and  by  Francis  of  Luynes,  and 
already  patronized  by  the  two  young  Valois,  withstood 
the  violent  attacks  of  the  Sorbonne,  who  regarded  the 
study  of  Greek  and  Hebrew  as  the  most  dreadful 
heresy.  At  Paris,  as  in  Germany  and  Switzerland, 
the  re- establishment  of  sound  doctrine  was  to  be  pre- 
ceded by  the  revival  of  letters.  But  in  France  the 
hands  which  thus  prepared  the  materials  were  not  to 
erect  the  edifice. 


at  the  university  of  Paris.     He  forthwith  obtained  an 
eminent — in  the  opinion  of  Erasmus,  the  first — place. 

Lefevre  felt  that  he  had  a  task  to  perform.  Although 
attached  to  the  observances  of  Rome,  he  proposed  to 
combat  the  barbarism  which  prevailed  at  the  univer- 
sity, and  began  to  teach  the  br.anches  of  philosophy 
with  a  clearness  previously  unknown.  He  laboured  to 
revive  the  study  of  languages  and  of  classical  antiquity. 
He  went  still  farther.  He  became  aware  that,  when  a 
work  of  revival  is  in  question,  philosophy  and  literature 
are  insufficient.  Therefore,  leaving  scholastics,  which 
alone  had  for  several  ages  occupied  the  school,  he  re- 
turned to  the  Bible,  and  brought  back  to  Christendom 
the  study  of  the  Holy  Scriptures  and  evangelical  know- 
ledge. He  did  not  devote  himself  to  barren  researches; 
he  went  to  the  core  of  the  Bible.  His  eloquence, 
frankness,  and  amiable  manners,  captivated  all  hearts. 
Grave,  and  full  of  unction  in  the  pulpit,  he  lived  on 
terms  of  gentle  familiarity  with  his  pupils.  Glarean, 
one  of  them,  writing  to  Zwingle,  says :  "  He  is  exceed- 
ingly kind  to  me.  Full  of  candour  and  goodness,  he 
sings,  plays,  and  debates  with  me,  and  often  laughs  at 
the  folly  of  this  world."  Accordingly  a  great  number 
of  pupils  from  every  country  sat  at  his  feet. 


I      ^ 


Among  the  teachers  who  then  adorned  the  capitnL 
was  remarked  a  man  of  very  small  stature,  of  mean 
appearance,  and  humble  origin,  whose  intellect,  learn- 
ing, and  powerful  eloquence,  had  an  indescribable  charm 
over  his  hearers.  He  was  named  Lefevre,  and  was 
born  about  14.55,  at  Etaples,  a  small  place  in  Picardv. 
He  had  received  only  a  rude,  or  as  Theodore  Beza  calls 
it,  a  barbarous  education ;  but  his  genius  had  supplied 
the  place  of  teachers,  and  his  piety,  learning,  and 
nobleness  of  character  only  shone  with  greater  lustre. 
He  had  travelled  much.  It  would  even  seem  that  the 
desire  of  extending  his  knowledge  had  taken  him  to 
Asia  and  Africa.^  As  early  as  1493,  Lefevre,  who  had 
taken  his  degree  as  doctor  in  theology,  was  a  professor 

1  See  his  Commentaiy  on  the  Second  Epistle  to  the  Thessalonians,  where 
tliere  is  a  singular  account  of  Mecca  and  its  temple  from  a  traveller. 


CATHEDRAL.  TOURS. 

This  man,  with  all  his  learning,  submitted,  with  the 
simplicity  of  a  cliild,  to  all  the  ordinances  of  the  Church. 
He  spent  as  much  time  in  churches  as  in  his  study,  so 
that  an  intimate  connection  might  have  been  predicted 
between  the  old  doctor   of   Picardy  and   the  young 


LEFEVRE  AND  FAREL  MEET. 


scholar  of  Dauphiny,  Wlien  two  natiu-es,  so  nmch 
alike,  meet,  they  draw  fo  each  other.  In  his  pious 
piip^riina^^es,  younj;;  Farel  soon  remarked  an  old  man, 
and  wa.s  struck  with  his  devoutness.  He  prostrated 
himself  before  the  images,  and,  remaining  long  upon 
his  knees,  prayed  with  fervour,  and  devoutly  repeated 
his  hours.  "  Never,"  says  Farel,  "  had  I  seen  any 
singer  of  mass  who  sang  it  with  greater  reverence. 
This  was  Lefevre.  "William  Farel  immediately  desired 
to  approach  him,  and  was  overjoyed  when  this  cele- 
brated man  kindly  accosted  him.  William  had  gained 
his  object  in  coming  to  the  capital.  From  this  time 
his  greatest  iiappiness  was  to  convei-sc  with  the  doctor 
of  Etaples,  to  hear  him  and  his  admirable  lectures,  and 
devoutly  prostrate  himself  with  him  before  the  same 
images.  Old  Lefevre  and  his  young  pupil  were  often 
seen  carefully  decking  an  image  of  the  Virgin  with 
(lowers ;  and  far  from  all  Paris,  far  from  pupils  and 
teachers,  muttering  together  by  themselves  the  fervent 
prayers  which  they  addressed  to  Mary. 

The  attachment  of  Farel  for  Lefevre  being  observed 
by  several,  the  respect  which  was  felt  for  the  old  doc- 
tor was  reflected  on  his  young  disciple.  This  illustrious 
friendship  brought  the  stranger  of  Dauphiny  out  of 
obscurity.  He  soon  gained  a  name  for  zeal,  and  seve- 
ral rich  and  devout  persons  in  Paris  entrusted  him  with 
different  sums  for  the  maintenance  of  poor  students. 

Some  time  elapsed  before  Lefevre  and  his  pupil  came 
to  a  clear  view  of  the  truth.  It  was  not  the  hope  of  a 
rich  benefice,  nor  a  longing  for  a  life  of  dissoluteness, 
that  attached  Farel  to  the  pope :  these  vulgarities  were 
not  made  for  such  a  soul.  To  him  the  pope  was  the 
visible  head  of  the  Church — a  sort  of  god,  by  whose 
commands  souls  were  saved.  If  he  heard  a  word 
uttered  against  his  venerated  pontiff,  he  gnashed  his 
teeth  like  a  raging  wolf,  and  could  have  wished  the 
thunder  to  strike  the  guilty  individual,  and  thereby 
"completely  sink  and  ruin  him." — "I  believe,"  said 
he,  "in  the  cross,  in  pilgrimages,  in  images,  vows,  and 
bones.  What  the  priest  holds  in  his  hands,  puts  in  the 
box,  encloses,  eats,  and  gives  to  be  eaten,  is  my  only 
true  God.  I  have  no  other,  either  in  heaven  or  on  the 
earth." — "  Satan,"  said  he,  on  another  occasion,  "  had 
lodged  the  pope,  the  papacy,  and  all  that  belongs  to  it, 
in  my  heart,  so  that  even  the  pope  had  not  so  much  of 
it  in  himself." 

Thus,  the  more  Farel  seemed  to  seek  God,  the 
more  his  piety  languished,  and  the  more  superstition 
increased  in  his  soul;  everytliini;  \m  nl  fnnii  bad  to 
woi-se.  He  has  himself  descrilnil  lii~  vt.iir  ^vith  great 
energy.  "  Oh  !  how  I  am  horrilicJ  at  myself  and  my 
faults,  when  I  think  how  great  and  wonderful  the 
work  of  God  in  making  it  possible  for  man  to  be 
delivered  from  such  an  abyss  !" 

But  though  he  was  delivered,  it  was  only  by  degrees. 
At  first  he  had  read  profane  authors ;  but  his  piety, 
finding  no  nurture  in  them,  he  began  to  meditate  on 
the  lives  of  the  saints ;  foolish  as  he  was,  these  lives 
made  him  become  still  more  foolish.  He  then  attached 
himself  to  several  teachers  of  the  day ;  but  after  com- 
ing to  them  unhappy,  he  left  them  miserable.  He  at 
length  began  to  study  the  ancient  philosophers,  and 
expected  Aristotle  would  teach  him  how  to  be  a  Chris- 
tian :  his  hopes  were  still  disappointed.     Books,  ima- 


ges, relics,  Aristotle,  Mary,  and  the  saints,  all  were 
useless.  This  ardent  soul  passed  from  one  human 
wisdom  to  another  human  wisdom,  without  ever  find- 
ing wherewith  to  appease  the  hunger  which  was  wast- 
ing him. 

Meanwhile,  the  pope  allowing  the  writings  of  the 
Old  and  New  Testaments  to  be  called  the  //o/y  Bible, 
Farel  began  to  read  them,  as  Luther  once  did  in  the 
cloister  of  Erfurt ;  and  he  stood  quite  aghast,  on  see- 
ing that  everything  on  the  earth  was  different  from 
what  the  Holy  Scriptures  enjoin.  Perhaps  he  was  on 
the  eve  of  arriving  at  the  truth,  but  suddenly  double 
darkness  fell  upon  him,  and  he  was  plunged  into  a 
new  abyss.  "  Satan  suddenly  arrived,"  says  he,  "  in 
order  that  he  might  not  lose  his  possession,  and  dealt 
with  me  according  to  his  custom."  A  fierce  struggle 
between  the  Word  of  God  and  the  word  of  the  Church 
then  arose  in  his  heart.  When  he  met  with  any  pas- 
sages of  Scripture  opposed  to  the  usage.s  of  Rome,  he 
held  down  his  eyes,  blushed,  and  durst  scarcely  believe 
what  he  read.  "  Ah  ! "  said  he,  fearing  to  fix  his  eyes 
on  the  Bible,  "I  don't  well  understand  such  things. 
I  must  give  these  Scriptures  another  meaning  than 
they  seem  to  have.  I  must  keep  to  the  interpretation 
of  the  Church  and  the  view  of  the  pope ! " 

One  day  when  he  was  reading  the  Bible,  a  doctor 
having  entered,  rebuked  him  sharply.  "  No  man," 
said  he,  "should  read  the  Holy  Scriptures  till  he  has 
learned  philosophy,  and  finished  his  course  of  arts." 
This  was  a  preparation  which  the  apostles  had  not 
demanded ;  but  Farel  believed  it  was.  "  I  was,"  says 
he,  "  the  unhappiest  of  men,  shutting  my  eyes  that  I 
might  not  see." 

Thenceforth  there  was  in  the  young  Dauphinist  a 
revival  of  Romish  fervour.  The  legends  of  the  saints 
excited  his  imagination.  The  more  severe  the  monas- 
tic rules  were,  the  greater  his  inclination  for  them. 
Carthusians  dwelt  in  gloomy  cells  in  the  midst  of 
woods.  He  visited  them  with  respect,  and  took  part 
in  their  abstinences.  "I  employed  myself  entirely,  night 
and  day,"  says  he,  "  in  serving  the  devil,  according  to 
the  man  of  sin — the  pope.  I  had  my  Pantheon  in  my 
heart,  and  so  many  intercessors,  so  many  saviours,  so 
many  gods,  that  I  might  well  have  been  taken  for  a 
popish  register." 

The  darkness  could  not  become  greater,  the  star  of 
the  morning  was  soon  to  rise,  and  it  was  at  Lefevre's 
word  that  it  was  to  appear.  In  the  doctor  of  Etaples 
there  were  already  some  rays  of  light :  a  feeling  within 
told  him  that  the  Church  could  not  remain  in  the  state 
in  which  it  then  was ;  and  often,  at  the  very  moment 
when  he  was  returning  from  mass,  or  rising  up  from 
before  some  image,  the  old  man  turned  to  his  young 
pupil,  and,  grasping  his  hand,  said  to  him  with  a  grave 
tone :  "  My  dear  William,  God  will  renovate  the  world, 
as  you  shall  see."  Farel  did  not  perfectly  understand 
these  words.  Lefevre,  however,  did  not  confine  him- 
self to  mysterious  expressions.  A  gi-eat  change  which 
then  took  place  in  himself  was  to  produce  a  similar 
change  in  his  pupil. 

The  old  doctor  was  engaged  in  a  work  of  vast  labour. 
He  was  carefully  collecting  the  legends  of  the  saints 
and  martyrs,  and  arranging  them  according  to  the 
order  of  their  names  in  the  calendar.     Two  months 


362 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


were  already  printed,  when  one  of  those  rays  which 
come  from  above  beamed  upon  his  soul.  He  could  not 
withstand  the  disgust  which  childish  superstitions  be- 
got iu  a  Cliristian  heart.  The  grandeur  of  the  AYord 
of  God  made  him  sensible  of  the  wretchedness  of  these 
fables.  They  now  appeared  to  him  nothing  better 
than  "sulphur  to  kindle  the  fire  of  idolatry."  He 
abandoned  his  task,  and  throwing  away  the  legends, 
turned  with  affection  to  the  second  volume.  The 
moment  when  Lefevre,  quitting  the  marvellous  tales 
of  the  saints,  laid  his  hand  upon  the  Word  of  God,  is 
the  comraeucement  of  a  new  era  iu  France,  and  the 
beginuiug  of  its  Reformation. 

In  fact,  Lefevre,  on  returning  from  the  fables  of  the 
Breviary,  began  to  study  the  Epistles  of  St.  Paul.  The 
light  grew  rapidly  in  his  heart,  and  he  immediately  put 
his  pupils  in  possession  of  that  knowledge  of  the  truth 
which  we  find  in  his  Commentaries.  Strange  to  the 
school  and  to  the  age  were  those  doctrines  which  were 
then  heard  in  Paris,  and  which  the  press  diffused  over 
the  Christian  world.  We  easily  conceive  that  the 
young  scholars  who  listened  to  them  were  struck, 
moved,  changed ;  and  that  thus,  even  before  the  year 
1512,  the  dawn  of  a  new  day  was  prepared  for  France. 

The  doctrine  of  justification  by  faith,  which  at  one 
blow  overthrew  the  subtleties  of  the  schoolmen,  and 
the  observances  of  the  papacy,  was  openly  announced 
in  the  bosom  of  the  Sorbonne.  "It  is  God  alone," 
said  the  doctor — and  the  halls  of  the  university  must 
have  been  astonished  when  they  re-echoed  these  strange 
words — "  it  is  God  alone,  who  by  His  grace,  through 
faith,  justifies  unto  eternal  life.  There  is  a  righteous- 
ness of  works,  and  there  is  a  righteousness  of  grace ; 
the  one  comes  from  man,  the  other  from  God ;  the  one 
is  early  and  transient,  the  other  is  divine  and  eternal ; 
the  one  is  the  shadow  and  the  sign,  the  other  is  the 
light  and  the  truth;  the  one  gives  the  knowledge  of 
sin  in  order  that  we  may  flee  from  death,  the  other 
gives  knowledge  of  grace  that  we  may  obtain  life." 

"  What,  then !"  it  was  asked,  on  hearing  doctrines 
which  contradicted  those  of  four  previous  centuries ; 
"  was  there  ever  a  single  man  justified  without  works  1" 
— "  A  single  man  !"  replied  Lefevre,  "  innumerable 
men.  How  many  among  people  of  bad  lives  have 
ardently  desired  the  grace  of  baptism,  having  only 
faith  in  Christ,  and  have,  if  they  died  immediately  after, 
entered  the  mansions  of  the  blessed  without  works  !" — 
"  But  some  will  say,  if  we  are  not  justified  by  works, 
it  is  in  vain  for  us  to  do  them."  The  doctor  of  Paris 
replied — and  perhaps  the  other  reformers  would  not 
have  entirely  approved  of  the  reply:  "  Certainly  not ; 
it  is  not  in  vain.  If  I  hold  a  mirror  turned  toward 
the  sun,  it  receives  the  sun's  image.  The  more  it  is 
polished  and  cleaned,  the  more  brilliant  the  image 
is ;  but  if  it  is  soiled  the  brilliancy  is  lost.  It  is  the 
same  with  justification  in  those  who  lead  an  impure 
life."  Lefevre,  in  this  passage,  as  St.  Augustine  in 
several,  perhaps  does  not  distinguish  sutticiently  be- 
tween justification  and  sanctification.  The  doctor  of 
Etaples  reminds  us  somewhat  of  the  Bishop  of  Hippo. 
Those  who  lead  an  impure  life  have  never  had  justifi- 
cation, and  consequently  they  cannot  lose  it.  But  per- 
haps Lefevre  meant,  that  when  the  Christian  falls  into 
some  fault,  he  loses  the  impression  of  his  salvation,  not 


salvation  itself.  In  that  case  there  is  nothing  to 
object  to  his  doctrine. 

Thus  a  new  life  and  a  new  doctrine  had  penetrated 
the  university  of  Paris.  The  doctrine  of  faith,  whicli 
a  Pothinus  and  an  Irena;us  preached  of  old  in  Gaul, 
again  resounded.  Thenceforth  there  were  two  parties 
and  two  classes  of  people  in  this  great  school  of  Chris- 
tendom. The  lessons  of  Lefevre,  the  zeal  of  his 
scholars,  formed  a  very  striking  contrast  with  the 
scholastic  lectures  of  the  greater  part  of  the  teachers, 
and  the  fickle  giddy  lives  of  the  greater  part  of  the 
students.  In  colleges,  to  learn  to  play  parts  iu  comedy, 
to  deck  in  putting  on  grotesque  dresses,  and  acting 
farces  in  the  streets,  than  iu  studying  to  become 
acquainted  with  the  oracles  of  God.  These  farces 
often  attacked  the  honour  of  grandees,  princes,  and 
the  king  himself.  The  parliament  interposed  about 
the  time  of  which  we  speak,  calling  the  principals  of 
several  colleges  before  it,  and  forbidding  these  indul- 
gent masters  to  allow  such  comedies  to  be  performed 
in  their  houses. 

But  these  disorders  were  suddenly  corrected  by  a 
more  powerful  dissuasive  than  the  decrees  of  parlia- 
ment. Jesus  Christ  was  taught.  Rumour  was  loud 
on  the  benches  of  the  university,  and  the  students  be- 
gan to  occupy  themselves  almost  as  much  with  evan- 
gelical doctrines  as  with  the  subtleties  of  the  school, 
or  with  comedies.  Several  of  those  whose  lives  were 
not  the  most  irreproachable,  stood  out  for  works ;  and 
perceiving  that  the  doctrine  of  faith  condemned  their 
conduct,  maintained  that  St.  James  was  opposed  to 
St.  Paul.  Lefevre  determined  to  defend  the  treasure 
which  he  had  discovered,  and  demonstrated  the  agree- 
ment of  the  two  apostles.  "  Does  not  St.  James  say 
(chap,  i.)  that  every  good  and  perfect  gift  cometh 
from  above  ?  Now,  who  denies  that  justification  is 
the  perfect  gift,  the  crowning  grace  ?  .  .  .  When 
we  see  an  individual  breathe,  we  regard  it  as  a  sign  of 
life.  Thus  works  are  necessary,  but  only  as  signs  of 
a  living  faith,  which  justification  accompanies.  Do 
collyriiums  or  purifications  give  light  to  the  eye  ? 
No ;  it  is  the  power  of  the  sun.  Very  well ;  these 
purifications  and  these  collyriiums  are  oiu-  works.  The 
only  ray  which  the  sun  darts  from  above  is  justifica- 
tion itself." 

At  these  lectures  Farel  was  an  eager  listener.  This 
doctrine  of  salvation  by  grace  had  soon  an  indescrib- 
able charm  for  him.  Every  objection  gave  way;  all 
struggle  ceased.  No  sooner  had  Lefevre  broached  the 
doctrine,  than  Farel  embraced  it  with  his  whole  soul. 
He  had  had  enough  of  toils  and  wrestlings  to  know 
that  he  could  not  save  himself.  Accordingly,  as  soon 
as  he  saw  in  the  Word  that  God  saves  gratuitously, 
he  believed.  "  Lefevre,"  says  he,  "  drew  me  off  from 
my  false  idea  of  merit,  and  taught  me  that  everything 
comes  by  grace :  this  I  believed  as  soon  as  it  was  told 
me."  Thus  by  a  sudden  and  decisive  conversion,  like 
that  of  St.  Paul,  was  brought  to  the  faith  this  Farel, 
who,  as  Theodore  Beza  expresses  it,  not  being  deterred 
by  threatenings,  or  insults,  or  blows,  won  for  Jesus 
Christ  Montbelliard,  Neufchatel,  Lausanne,  Aigle, 
and  lastly  Geneva. 

Meanwhile  Lefevre,  continuing  his  lectm'es,  and  tak- 
ing pleasure,  like  Luther,  in  employing  contrasts  and 


CONVERSION  OF  FAREL. 


paradoxes  wluch  cover  great  truths,  extolled  the 
grandeur  of  the  mystery  of  redenii)tioii.  "Ineffable 
exchange!"  exclaimed  he,  "  innocence  is  condemned  and 
the  guilty  is  acquitted  ;  blessing  is  cursed,  and  he  who 
was  cursed  is  blest;  life  dies  and  deatii  receives  life; 
glory  is  covered  with  confusion,  and  he  who  was  con- 
fouiidod  is  covered  witii  glory."  The  pious  doctor, 
penetrating  still  fiu-ther,  perceived  that  all  salvation 
emanates  from  the  love  of  God.  "Those  who  are 
saved,"  said  he,  "  are  so  by  election,  by  grace,  by  the 
will  of  God,  and  not  by  tlieir  own  will.  Our  election, 
our  will,  our  works,  are  without  efficacy;  the  election 
of  God  alone  is  most  powerful.  When  we  are  con- 
verted, our  couveision  docs  not  make  us  the  elect  of 
God ;  but  the  grace,  the  will,  the  election  of  God  con- 
vert us." 

But  Lefevre  did  not  stop  at  doctrines.  While  he 
rendered  glory  to  God,  he  demanded  obedience  from 
man,  and  urged  the  obligations  flowing  from  the  high 
privileges  of  the  Christian.  "  If  thou  art  of  the 
Church  of  Christ,  thou  art  of  the  body  of  Christ,  thou 
art  filled  with  the  Divinity;  for  the  fulness  of  the 
Godhead  dwells  in  Him  bodily."  Oh!  if  men  could 
comprehend  this  privilege,  how  carefully  they  woidd 
maintain  purity,  chastity,  and  holiness,  and  account 
all  the  glory  of' the  world  disgrace  in  comparison  of  the 
inward  glory  which  is  hidden  from  the  eye  of  sense ! 

Lefevre  felt  that  the  teacher  of  the  Word  holds  a 
high  othce ;  and  he  exercised  it  with  unshaken  fidelity. 
The  corruption  of  the  period,  and  particularly  that  of 
the  clergy,  excited  his  indignation,  and  was  made  the 
subject  of  severe  lectures.  "  What  a  shame,"  said  he, 
"  to  see  a  bishop  entreating  ])eople  to  drink  with  him, 
making  gaming  his  only  study,  handling  the  dice  and 
cornet,  taking  up  his  time  with  birds  and  dogs,  con- 
stantly hunting  and  shouting  after  beagles  «nd  hares, 
entering  houses  of  debauchery !  .  .  .  O  men, 
more  deserving  of  punishment  than  Sardauapahis 
himself ! " 


CHAPTER  III. 

■i-l  and  the  Saints— The  University— Conversion  of  Parel— Farel  and 
Luther— Othi<r  Disciples— Date  of  the  Reformation  in  France— The 
DifTortnt  Rcfoinis  Spontaneous— Wliich  is  tlie   First?— Place  Due  to 


TVius  spake  Lefevre.  Farel  listened,  thrilled  with 
delight,  received  all,  and  threw  himself  into  the  new 
j)ath  suddenly  opened  before  him.  There  was,  how- 
ever, a  point  of  his  old  creed  which,  as  yet,  he  was 
unable  to  yield ;  this  was  the  saints  and  the  invocation 
of  them.  The  best  intellects  often  have  these  remains 
of  d.arkness,  and  retain  them  after  their  illumination. 
Farel  listened  with  astonishment,  when  the  illustrious 
doctor  declared  tliat  Christ  alone  v,-as  to  be  invoked. 
"  Religion,"  said  Lefevre,  "  has  only  one  foundation, 
one  aim,  one  head,  Jesus  Christ,  who  is  blessed  for 
ever.  He  alone  trod  the  wine-press ;  and  therefore 
we  do  not  take  our  name  from  St.  Paul,  ApoUos,  or 
St.  Peter.  The  cross  of  Christ  alone  opens  heaven, 
and  alone  shuts  the  gate  of  hell."     On  hearing  these 


words,  there  was  a  great  struggle  in  Farel's  soul.  On 
tlie  one  hand  he  saw  the  multitude  of  the  saints  with 
the  Church;  on  the  other,  Jesus  Christ  alone  was  his 
Master.  Sometimes  lie  leant  to  the  one  side,  and 
sometimes  to  the  other.  It  was  his  last  error  and  his 
last  combat ;  he  hesitated,  he  still  felt  attached  to  the 
venerated  men  at  whose  feet  Rome  falls  prostrate. 
At  Iciiiih  ih.'  ill  risive  blow  was  given  from  on  high. 
Tlie  sr.iKs  1.11  lidui  his  eyes.  Jesus  alone  appeared 
wortliy  i>f  ;i'loi:iiii)ii.  "Then,"  says  he,  "the  papacy 
was  eutii'ely  ovirlliruwn  :  I  began  to  detest  it  as  dia- 
bolical ;  and  the  lioly  Word  of  God  had  the  first  place 
in  my  heart." 

Public  events  hastened  the  progress  of  Farel  and  his 
friends.  Thomas  de  Vio,  who,  at  a  later  period,  had 
a  wrestle  with  Luther  at  Augsburg,  having  in  one  of 
his  works  advanced  that  the  pope  was  absolute  mon- 
arch of  the  Church,  Louis  XII.  laid  the  work  before 
the  university,  in  the  month  of  February,  1512. 
James  Allman,  one  of  the  youngest  doctors,  a  man  of 
profound  genius  and  an  indefatigable  student,  in  a  full 
assembly  of  the  faculty  of  theology,  and  amid  great 
applause,  read  a  refutation  of  the  assertions  of  the 
cardinal. 

What  impression  must  not  such  addresses  have 
produced  on  Lefevre's  young  scholars !  Could  they 
hesitate  when  the  university  seemed  impatient  of  the 
papal  yoke  1  If  the  main  body  began  to  move,  must 
not  they  hasten  on  iu  front  as  pioiieeis  ?  "It  was 
necessary,"  says  Farel,  "tlial  lli.'  papacy  should  fall 
in  my  heart  by  little  and  litllc;  I.t  it  did  not  come 
down  at  the  first  stroke."  IIu  cuiitumphited  the  abyss 
of  superstition  into  which  he  had  been  plunged. 
Arrested  on  its  banks,  he  once  more,  with  uneasiness, 
surveyed  all  its  depths,  and  recoiled  with  a  feeling  of 
terror.  "  Oh,  how  much  I  am  horrified  at  myself  and 
my  faults  !"  he  exclaimed.  "  O  Lord !"  continued  he, 
"  if  my  soul  had  served  thee  with  a  living  faith,  as  thy 
faithful  servants  have  done ;  if  it  had  prayed  and 
honoured  thee  as  much  as  my  heart  did  the  mass,  and 
served  this  magic  morsel,  giving  it  all  honour !"  Thus 
the  youth  of  Dauphiny  deplored  his  past  life,  and 
repeated,  with  tears,  like  St.  Augustine  of  old :  "  Too 
late  have  I  known,  too  late  have  I  loved  thee." 

Farel  had  found  Jesus  Christ,  and  having  arrived 
in  port,  was  happy  to  rest,  after  long  tempests.  "  Now," 
said  he,  "  everything  presents  itself  in  a  new  light. 
The  Scriptures  are  made  clear,  the  prophets  are  opened, 
the  apostles  shed  great  light  upon  my  soul.  A  voice, 
hitherto  unknown, — the  voice  of  Christ  my  Shepherd, 
my  Master,  my  Teacher, — speaks  to  me  with  power." 
He  was  so  changed,  that  instead  of  the  murderous 
heart  of  a  ravening  wolf,  he  returned,  he  said,  calmly 
as  a  meek  and  lovely  lamb,  witli  a  heart  entirely  with- 
drawn from  the  pope,  and  devoted  to  Jesus  Christ. 

Escaped  from  this  great  evil,  he  turned  towards  the 
Bible,  and  began  the  diligent  study  of  Greek  and 
Hebrew.  He  constantly  read  the  Holy  Scriptures,  and 
always  with  deeper  affection,  God  enlightening  him 
from  day  to  day.  He  still  continued  to  attend  the  old 
worship  in  the  churches.  But  what  did  he  find  in  it  ? 
Innumerable  cries  and  chants,  and  words  pronounced 
without  meaning.  Accordingly,  often  in  the  midst  of 
the  multitude  who  were  thronging  towards  an  image 


?,Gi 


HISTORY  OF  THE  EEFOEMATION. 


or  an  altar,  he  exclaimed :  "  Thou  alone  art  God : 
thou  alone  art  wise :  thou  alone  art  good !  Nothing 
is  to  be  taken  from  thy  holy  law,  nothing  added  to  it ; 
for  thou  art  the  Lord  alone,  who  wiliest  and  oughtest 
to  command." 

Thus,  in  his  eyes,  all  men  and  all  teachers  fell  from 
the  heights  on  which  his  imagination  had  placed  them  ; 
he  no  longer  saw  anything  in  the  world  but  God  and 
His  Word.  The  persecutions  which  the  other  teachers 
of  Paris  employed  against  Lefevre,  lost  them  his  good 
opinion.  But  shortly  Lefevre  himself,  his  beloved 
guide,  was  nothing  to  him  but  a  man.  He  always 
loved  and  revered  him,  but  God  only  became  his  master. 

Of  all  the  reformers,  Farel  and  Luther,  perhaps,  are 
those  whose  spiritual  developments  we  know  best,  and 
wlio  had  to  endure  the  greatest  conflicts.  Keen  and 
ardent,  men  of  attack  and  battli.'.  thoy  liud  tn  inaiiitaiii 
violent  struggles  before  tlu'v  oliiainrd  pear(\       l-'ai-ol 


is  the  pioneer  of  the  Reformation  in  Switzerland ;  he 
throws  himself  into  the  thicket ;  he  takes  his  axe  and 
hews  down  the  secular  forests.  Calvin  comes  at  a  later 
period,  as  does  Melancthon,  from  whom,  no  doubt,  he 
differs  in  regard  to  disposition,  but  with  whom  he 
shares  the  character  of  theologian  and  organizer. 
These  two  men — the  one  in  the  graceful,  the  other  in 
the  stern,  class  of  character — somewhat  resemble  the 
lawgivers  of  antiquity.  They  build  up,  constitute,  and 
make  laws  in  the  countries  which  the  two  previous 
reformers  had  gained.  Still,  if  Luther  and  Farel 
have  some  features  in  common,  it  must  be  acknow- 

I   ledged  that  the  latter  is  only  an  inferior  resemblance. 

I  Besides  his  superior  genius,  Luther  had,  in  everything 
which  concerned  the  Chiu-ch,  a  moderation,  a  wisdom, 

I  a  knowledge  of  the  past,  a  comprehensiveness  of  view, 
anil  i'\('ii  an  i>ri;aniziiii;    ]i(i\voi'.    wliicli    exist  not  to  the 


—  ->&:. 


^:^^^-j^: 


Farel  was  not  the  only  young  Frenchman  in  whom 
new  light  then  arose.  The  doctrines  which  proceeded 
from  the  mouth  of  the  illustrious  doctor  of  Etaples 
were  working  in  the  minds  of  the  multitude  who  fol- 
lowed his  lessons.  In  his  school  were  formed  brave 
soldiers,  who  on  the  day  of  battle  were  to  fight  on  to 
the  very  foot  of  the  scaffold.  They  listened,  compared, 
and  discussed,  arguing  keenly  on  both  sides.  It  is  not 
improbable  that  among  the  small  number  of  scholars 
who  defended  the  truth,  was  young  Peter  Robert 
Olivetan,  born  at  Noyon,  towards  the  end  of  the  fif- 
teenth century,  who,  at  a  later  period,  translated  the 
Bible  into  French,  after  the  translation  of  Lefevre ; 
and  appears  to  have  been  the  first  to  bring  the  doc- 
trines of  the  Gospel  under  the  notice  of  a  young  kins- 
man, also  a  native  of  Noyon,  and  afterwards  the  most 
distinguished  leader  of  the  Reformation. 

Thus,  before  1512,  at  a  time  when  Luther  had  not 
yet  acfjuired  any  distinction  in  the  world,  and  was 
setting  out  to  Rome  on  a  concern  of  monks,  at  a  period 
when  Zwingle  had  not  even  begun  to  devote  himself 


zealously  to  sacred  literature,  and  was  crossing  the 
Alps  with  the  confederates  to  fight  for  the  pope,  Paris 
and  France  heard  the  delivery  of  those  vital  truths 
out  of  which  the  Reformation  was  to  spring,  and  minds 
fitted  to  propagate  them  were  receiving  them  with  holy 
avidity.  Hence,  Theodore  Beza,  speaking  of  Lefevre 
of  Etaples,  hails  him  as  the  individual  "who  courage- 
ously began  the  revival  of  the  pure  religion  of  Jesus 
Christ;"  and  he  remarks  that,  "in  the  same  way  as 
the  school  of  Isocrates  was  anciently  seen  to  furnish 
the  best  orators,  so  from  the  audience  of  the  doctor  of 
Etaples  proceeded  several  of  the  most  distinguished 
men  of  their  age  and  of  the  Church." 

The  Reformation  in  France,  therefore,  was  not  a 
foreign  importation.  It  had  its  birth  on  the  French 
soil ;  it  germinated  in  Paris ;  it  had  its  first  roots  in  the 
university  itself,  which  formed  the  second  power  in 
Roman  Christendom.  God  placed  the  principles  of 
the  work  in  the  honest  hearts  of  men  of  Picardy  and 
Dauphiny  before  its  commencement  in  any  other  coun- 
try.    We  have  seen  that  the  Swiss  Reformation  was 


DATE  OF  THE  REFORMATION  IN  FRANCE. 


3G5 


independent  of  the  German  Reformation.  Tlie  French 
Reformation  was,  in  its  turn,  independent  of  both. 
Tlie  worlc  began  at  once  in  tlieso  different  countries 
without  any  communication  with  each  otlier;  as  in  a 
battle,  all  the  difl'crent  forces  composing  the  army 
move  at  tlio  same  instant,  though  the  one  does  not  tell 
the  other  to  march,  because  one  and  the  same  command, 
proceeding  from  the  commander-in-chief,  is  heard  by 
all.  The  time  was  accomplished,  the  people  were 
prepared,  and  God  began  the  renovation  of  His  Church 
in  all  quarters  at  once.  Such  facts  demonstrate  that 
the  great  revolution  of  the  sixteenth  century  was  a 
Divine  work. 


CATHEDRA 


If  regard  is  had  only  to  dates,  it  must  be  acknow- 
ledged that  the  honour  of  commencing  the  work  be- 
longs neither  to  Switzerland  nor  to  Germany,  although 
these  two  countries  only  have  hitherto  claimed  it. 
The  honour  truly  belongs  to  France.  This  is  a  fact 
which  we  purpose  to  establish,  because  it  seems  to 
have  been  hitherto  overlooked.  Without  dwelling  on 
the  influence  which  Lcfevre  exerted,  directly  or  indi- 
rectly, over  several  individuals,  and  in  particular, 
perhaps  over  Calvin  himself,  let  us  attend  to  that 
which  he  had  over  one  of  his  pupils,  over  Farel,  and  to 
the  energetic  activity  which  this  servant  of  God  thence- 
forth displayed.  After  this,  how  can  we  resist  the 
conviction,  that  even  though  Zwingle  and  Luther 
should  never  have  appeared,  there  would  have  been  a 
movement  of  reform  in  France  1  It  is  impossible,  no 
doubt,  to  calculate  what  would  have  been  its  extent ; 
it  must  even  be  acknowledged  that  the  rumour  of 
what  was  going  on  beyond  the  Rhine  and  the  Jura 
animated,  and,  at  a  later  period,  quickened  the  pace  of 
the  French  reformers,  tjtill,  they  were  the  first  whom 
the  blast  of  the  heavenly  trumpet  in  the  sixteenth 


century  awoke,  and  they  were  the  first  who  appeared 
equipped  and  aiTayed  on  the  field  of  battle. 

Nevertheless,  Luther  is  the  great  workman  of  the 
sixteenth  century,  and  in  the  most  extensive  sense  the 
first  reformer.  Lefevre  is  not  a  complete  reformer, 
like  Calvin,  Farel,  and  Luther.  He  is  of  Witteraberg 
and  Geneva,  but  has  also  a  tinge  of  the  Sorbonne  ;  he 
is  the  first  Catholic  in  the  reform  movement,  and  the 
liist  of  the  reformed  in  the  Catholic  movement.  He 
remains  to  the  last  a  kind  of  go-between — a  somewhat 
mysterious  mediator,  designed  to  remind  us,  that  though 
there  is  apparently  an  impassable  abyss  between  the 
old  and  the  new  things,  there  is  still  a  connection 
between  them.  Repulsed  and  pereecuted  by  Rome,  he 
is  still  attached  to  Rome  by  a  feeble  thread  which  he 
is  unwilling  to  break.  Lefevre  of  Etaples  has  a  place 
of  his  own  in  the  theology  of  the  sixteenth  century. 
He  is  the  link  which  connects  ancient  with  modern 
times — the  individual  in  whom  the  transition  is  made 
from  the  theology  of  the  Middle  Ages  to  the  theology 
of  the  Reformation. 


CmU^TER  IV. 

Character  of  Fiaccis  I. — Beginning  of  Modem  Times — Liberty  and  Obedience 
—Margaret  of  Valois— Tlic  Court— Brigonnet,  Count  of  Montbruu— 
Lefevre  applies  to  the  Bible — Francis  I.  and  his  "Sons" — The  Gospel 
brought  to  Margaret— A  Conversion— Adoration— Character  of  Margaret 

Thus  the  whole  university  was  in  motion.  But  the 
Reformation  in  France  was  not  to  be  merely  the  work 
of  learned  men.  It  was  to  be  established  among  the 
grandees  of  the  world,  and  even  at  the  court  of  the 
king. 

Young  Francis  of  Augouleme,  cousin-german  of 
Louis  Xn.,  and  his  son-in-law,  had  succeeded  him.  His 
beauty,  his  address,  his  bravery,  his  love  of  pleasure, 
made  him  the  first  chevalier  of  his  time.  He  aspired, 
however,  to  something  higher ;  he  wished  to  be  a  great, 
and  even  a  good  king,  provided  everything  could  bend 
to  his  sovereign  will.  Valour,  love  of  letters,  and  gal- 
lantry: these  three  words  sufficiently  express  the  cha- 
racter of  Francis,  and  the  spirit  of  his  age.  At  a 
later  period  two  other  illustrious  kings — Henry  IV., 
and  in  particular  Louis  XIV. — presented  the  same 
features.  These  princes  wanted  what  the  Gospel 
gives  ;  and  although  the  nation  has  never  been  without 
elements  of  holiness  and  Christian  elevation,  it  may  be 
said  that  these  three  great  mouarchs  of  modern  France 
stamped  their  own  character  on  their  subjects,  or 
rather,  their  own  character  was  a  faithful  representa- 
tion of  the  character  of  their  subjects.  Had  the 
Gospel  entered  France  through  the  most  illustrious  of 
the  Valois,  it  would  have  given  to  the  nation  what  it 
has  not — a  spiritual  tendency,  a  Christian  holiness,  an 
understanding  in  Divine  things  ;  and  would  thus  have 
made  it  complete  in  that  which  contributes  most  to  the 
power  and  greatness  of  kingdoms. 

Lender  the  reign  of  Francis  I.  France  and  Europe 
passed  from  the  IMiddle  Ages  to  modern  times.  The 
new  world,  which  was  in  embryo  when  this  prince 
mounted  the  throne,  then  grew  up  and  entered  into 


366 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


possession.  Two  classes  of  men  exercised  an  influence 
over  the  new  society.  On  tlie  cue  hauil  arose  the  men 
of  faith,  who  were,  at  tlie  same  time,  the  men  of  wis- 
dom and  lioliness ;  and  close  beside  them  the  writers  of 
the  court,  the  friends  of  worldliness  and  disorder,  who, 
by  the  licentiousness  of  their  principles,  contributed  as 
much  to  the  corruption  of  manners,  as  the  former  class 
did  to  their  reformation. 

Had  not  Europe,  in  the  days  of  Francis  I.,  seen  the 
reformer  arise,  and  had  she,  by  a  severe  judgment  of 
Providence,  been  given  up  to  intidel  innovators,  it  was 
all  over  both  with  her  and  with  Christianity.  The 
danger  was  great.  For  some  time  these  two  classes  of 
combatants — tlie  adversaries  of  the  pope  and  of  Jesus 
Christ — were  confounded  together.  Both  calling  for 
liberty,  seemed  to  make  use  of  the  same  arms  against 
the  same  enemies.  Amid  the  turmoil  of  the  battle- 
field, an  inexperienced  eye  might  have  been  uuable  to 
distinguish  between  them.  Had  the  reformers  allowed 
themselves  to  be  hurried  along  by  the  literati,  all  was 
lost.  The  enemies  of  the  hierarchy  passed  rapidly  to 
the  extreme  of  impiety,  and  were  pushing  Christian 
society  into  a  frightful  abyss.  The  papacy  itself  con- 
tributed to  this  dreadful  catastrophe,  by  its  ambition 
and  disorders  hastening  the  destruction  of  those  remains 
of  truth  and  life  which  had  continued  in  the  Church. 
But  God  raised  up  the  Reformation,  and  Christianity 
was  saved.  The  reformers  who  had  cried,  "Liberty!" 
shortly  after  shouted,  "Obedience!"  The  very  men 
who  had  overturned  the  throne  on  which  the  Roman 
pontiff  delivered  his  oracles,  prostrated  themselves 
before  the  Word  of  God.  Tiie  separation  was  now 
precise  and  decisive ;  even  war  was  declared  between 
the  two  divisions  of  the  army.  The  one  had  wished 
liberty  only  for  themselves,  the  other  had  claimed  it 
for  the  Word  of  God.  The  Reformation  became  the 
most  formidable  enemy  of  this  infidelity,  for  which 
Rome  often  manifests  some  degree  of  indulgence.  The 
reformers,  after  restoring  liberty  to  the  Church,  restored 
religion  to  the  world.  Of  the  two  gifts,  the  latter  was 
at  this  time  the  more  necessarj-. 

For  a  time  the  friends  of  infidelity  hoped  to  count 
among  their  number  Margaret  of  Valois,  duchess  of 
Alenfon,  whom  Frauds  loved  exceedingly,  always,  as 
BrautOrae  says,  calling  her  his  little  pet.  The  same 
tastes  and  the  same  talents  existed  in  the  brother  and 
the  sister.  Margaret,  handsome  like  Francis,  joined 
the  mild  vii'tues  which  captivate  to  the  strong  qualities 
which  form  great  characters.  In  the  world,  at  festivi- 
ties, at  the  court  of  the  king,  as  well  as  at  that  of  the 
emperor,  she  shone  as  a  queen,  charmed,  astonished, 
aud  conquered  all  hearts.  Passionately  fond  of  litera- 
ture, aud  eudowed  with  rare  talents,  she  retired  to  her 
study,  aud  there  gave  herself  up  to  the  pleasures  of 
thinking,  writing,  and  acquiring  knowledge.  But  her 
strongest  wish  was  to  do  good,  and  prevent  evil.  When 
ambassadors,  after  being  received  by  the  king,  went 
to  pay  their  respects  to  Margaret,  "  they  were,"  says 
Brantome,  "  exceedingly  delighted,  and  carried  back 
glowing  descriptions  of  her  to  their  country." 

This  celebrated  priiicess  was  always  of  the  strictest 
morals;  but  while  many  people  placed  strictness  in 
word,  and  freedom  in  act,  Margaret  did  the  contrary. 
Irreproachable  in  her  conduct,  she  was  not  perfectly 


so  in  respect  of  her  writings.  In  place  of  being  sur- 
prised at  this,  perhaps  the  wonder  ought  rather  to  be, 
that  one  so  corrupt  as  Louisa  of  Savoy,  had  a  daughter 
so  pure  as  Margaret.  While  journeying  over  the 
country  in  the  train  of  the  court,  she  employed  herself 
in  depicting  the  manners  of  the  time,  and  in  particular, 
the  corruption  of  priests  and  monks.  Brantome  says  : 
"  I  have  heard  it  told  by  my  grandmotiier,  who  always 
travelled  with  her  in  her  sedan,  how  she  and  her  maid 
of  honour  held  the  writing-desk."  Such,  according  to 
some,  was  the  origin  of  the  "  Heptameron ;"  but  highly 
distinguished  modern  critics  are  convinced  that  Mar- 
garet was  a  stranger  to  this  collection,  sometimes  more 
than  frivolous,  and  that  Despe'riers,  valet  cle  chamhre  to 
the  queen,  was  its  author. 

This  Margaret,  so  beautiful,  so  talented,  and  living 
in  the  heart  of  a  polluted  atmosphere,  was  to  be  one 
of  the  first  who  was  to  be  caiTied  along  by  the  reli- 
gions movement  which  then  began  to  agitate  France. 
But  in  the  midst  of  a  court  so  dissolute,  and  the  licen- 
tious tales  which  amused  it,  how  could  the  Duchess  of 
Alen9on  be  reached  by  the  Reformation  ?  Her  elevated 
soul  felt  wants  which  the  Gospel  alone  could  satisfy: 
grace  acts  everywhere ;  aud  Clu-istianity,  which  eveu 
before  an  apostle  had  appeared  in  Rome,  had  adherents 
in  the  house  of  Narcissus  and  in  the  court  of  Nero, 
(Rom.  xvi.  11;  Phil.  iv.  22,)  soon  penetrated,  at  its 
revival,  to  the  court  of  Francis  I.  Some  ladies  of  the 
court  addressed  the  princess  in  the  language  of  faith  ; 
and  the  sun  which  was  then  rising  in  France  shed 
some  of  its  earliest  rays  on  an  illustrious  head,  by 
which  they  were  immediately  reflected  on  the  Duchess 
of  Alenfon. 

Among  the  most  distinguished  nobles  of  the  coiu't 
was  William  de  Montbrun,  son  of  Cardinal  Bri9onnet 
of  St.  Malo,  who  had  entered  the  Church  after  he 
became  a  widower.  Count  William,  who  was  pas- 
sionately attached  to  literature,  also  took  orders,  aud 
became  successively  Bishop  of  Lodeva  aud  of  Meaux. 
Sent  twice  to  Rome  as  ambassador,  he  returned  to 
Paris  without  having  been  seduced  by  the  charms  and 
pomp  of  Leo  X. 

Wheu  he  returned  to  France,  the  movement  was 
universally  spread.  Farel,  master  of  arts,  was  teach- 
ing in  the  celebrated  college  of  Cardinal  Lenioiue,  one 
of  the  four  principal  houses  of  the  theological  faculty 
of  Paris,  and  equal  in  rank  to  the  Sorbonne.  Two 
countrymen  of  Lefevre,  Arnaud  and  Gerald  Roussel, 
and  others  besides,  enlarged  this  circle  of  free  and 
noble  spirits.  Brifonnet,  who  had  just  quitted  the 
festivities  of  Rome,  was  astonished  at  what  had  taken 
place  iu  Paris  during  his  absence.  Thirsting  for 
knowledge,  he  renewed  his  old  relations  with  Lefevre, 
and  shortly  after  passed  precious  hours  with  the  doctor 
of  Sorbonne,  Farel,  the  two  Roussels,  and  their  other 
friends.  Full  of  humility,  this  illustrious  prelate  was 
willing  to  be  instructed  by  the  humblest  individuals ; 
but  above  all  by  oiu'  Lord  himself.  "lam  in  dark- 
ness," said  he,  "  waiting  for  the  interposition  of  Divine 
grace,  of  which  I  have  deprived  myself  by  my  demerits." 
His  spirit  was,  as  it  were,  dazzled  by  the  lustre  of  the 
Gospel.  He  dared  uot  to  look  up  on  its  unparalleled 
refulgence.  "All  eyes  united,"  he  adds,  "are  insuffi- 
cient to  receive  the  light  of  this  sun." 


MARGARET  RECEIVES  THE  GOSPEL. 


Lofcvrc  had  referrcil  the  bishop  to  the  Bible  ;  he  had 
shewn  him,  as  it  were,  the  •iiiidiii;!  tiiroiul  which  uhvays 
conducts  to  the  original  truths  of  Christianit}',  to  which 
it  was  antecedent  to  all  schools,  sects,  ordinances,  and 
traditions;  he  had  shewn  him  the  powerful  means  by 
■which  the  religion  of  Jesus  Christ  is  renewed.  15ri- 
^onnet  read  the  Scriptures.  '•  The  sweetness  of  Divine 
food  is  so  great,"  said  lie,  "that  tiic  longing  of  the 
mind  for  it  becomes  insatiable;  the  more  it  is  tasted, 
the  more  it  is  desired."  The  simple  and  miglity  truths 
of  salvation  tilled  him  willi  rapture  ;  he  found  Ciirist ; 
he  found  God  himself.  *•  Wliat  vessel,"  ho  exclaimed, 
"is capable  of  receiving  tlie  full  amount  of  inexhaust- 
ible sweetness?  But  the  lodging  is  enlarged  according 
to  the  desire  which  is  felt  to  receive  the  good  guest. 
Faith  is  the  cliamber  which  alone  can  lodge  Ilim,  or  to 
speak  more  properly,  which  makes  us  lodge  in  Hint." 
At  the  same  time  the  good  bishop  was  grieved  to  see 
this  doctrine  of  life,  which  the  Reformation  was  restor- 
ing to  the  world,  in  so  little  esteem  at  court,  in  the  city 
among  the  people,  and  he  exclaimed :  "  Oh  singular, 
most  worthy,  and  by  my  fellows  little  relished  inno- 
vation !"     .     .     . 

Thus  did  evangelical  sentiments  pave  a  way  for 
themselves  amidst  the  giddy,  dissolute,  and  literary 
court  of  Francis  I.  Several  individuals  who  belonged 
to  it,  and  enjoyed  the  full  confidence  of  the  king,  as 
John  du  Bcllay,  Bude,  Cop  the  court  physician,  and 
even  Petit  the  king's  confessor,  seemed  favourable  to 
the  sentiments  of  Briyonnet  and  Lefevre.  Francis, 
who  was  fond  of  letters,  and  invited  into  his  domains 
learned  men  who  were  inclined  to  "Lutheranisni,"  and 
who  "expected,"  says  Erasmus,  ''thus  to  adorn  and  dis- 
tinguish his  reign  more  magnificently  than  he  could 
have  done  by  trophies,  pyramids,  or  the  most  gorgeous 
buildings,"  was  himself  influenced  by  his  sister,  Bri- 
9onnct,  and  tlie  literati  of  his  court  and  university. 
He  attended  the  discussions  of  the  learned — took  plea- 
sure in  hearing  their  conversation  at  table,  and  called 
them  '•  his  sons."  He  prepared  the  way  for  the  AYord 
of  God,  by  founding  chairs  for  the  study  of  Hebrew 
and  Greek.  Accordingly,  Theodore  Beza,  on  placing 
his  portrait  at  the  head  of  those  of  the  reformers,  says  : 
"O  pious  beholder!  shudder  not  at  the  view  of  his 
adversary.  Must  not  a  share  in  this  honour  belong  to 
him  who,  after  banishing  barbarism  from  the  world, 
firmly  fixed  in  its  place  three  languages  and  sound 
literature,  to  form  as  it  were  porticos  to  the  new 
edifice  which  was  soon  to  be  raised  ?" 

But  at  tlie  court  of  Francis  I.  there  was  an  indivi- 
dual in  particular  who  seemed  prepared  for  the  evan- 
gelical influence  of  the  doctor  of  Etaplcs  and  the 
Bishop  of  Meaux.  Alargaret,  undecided  and  wavering 
in  the  midst  of  the  dissolute  society  around  her,  sought 
support,  and  found  it  in  the  Gospel.  Turning  towards 
the  new  truth  which  was  reanimating  the  world,  she 
inhaled  it  with  delight  as  an  emanation  from  heaven. 
Some  ladies  of  her  court  informed  her  of  what  was 
taught  by  the  new  teachers.  She  obtained  their  works 
and  small  treatises,  called,  in  the  language  of  the  times, 
"  Tracts."  She  heard  the  expressions  :  "  Primitive 
Church,  pure  Word  of  (iod,  worship  in  spirit  and  in 
truth,  Christian  liberty  which  shakes  off  superstition 
and  human  traditions,  and  attaches  itself  to  none  but 


God."  Shortly  after,  this  princess  became  personally 
acquainted  with  Lefevre,  Farel,  and  Roussel :  she  was 
struck  with  everything  about  them, — their  zeal,  their 
))iety,  and  their  manners ;  but  her  principal  guide  in 
the  way  of  faith  was  the  Bishop  of  Meaux,  with  whom 
slie  had  long  been  intimate. 

Thus  was  accomplished,  amid  the  brilliant  court  of 
Francis  I.,  and  the  dissolute  family  of  Louisa  of  Savoy, 
one  of  those  conversions  of  the  heart  which,  in  every 
age,  are  produced  by  the  Word  of  God.  Margaret 
afterwards  embodied  in  verso  the  different  movements 
of  her  soul  at  this  import.ant  era  iu  her  life.  By  this 
means  we  are  able  to  discover  some  traces  of  the  patli 
which  she  then  traversed.  We  see  that  she  was  deeply 
penetrated  with  a  conviction  of  sin ;  and  that  she  be- 
wailed the  levity  with  which  she  had  treated  the 
scandals  of  the  world.     She  exclaims, — 

"  Wlial  <t(-pth  of  rimishmeiit  can  possibly  suffice, 
E'eu  fur  a  tenth  part  of  the  giult  whieh  on  me  lies?" 

This  corruption,  of  which  she  had  so  long  been 
unconscious,  everywhere  met  her  view,  now  that  her 
eyes  were  opened. 

"  Within,  well  do  I  feel  I  have  the  root ; 
Without  are  branch,  and  flower,  and  leaf,  and  fruit." 

Still,  amid  the  alarm  which  she  felt  at  the  state  of 
her  soul,  she  discovered  that  the  God  of  peace  had 
drawn  near  to  her. 

"  My  God,  to  nic  thou  hast  drawn  nigh, 
Although  a  naked  worm  am  I." 

Ere  long  the  love  of  God  in  Christ  was  shed  abroad 
in  her  heart. 

"My  Father,  then,    .    .    .    but  who?  yea  the  Eternal, 
Always  unseen,  immutable,  immortjil. 
Who  will  forgive  by  grace  each  sin  of  mine  ; 
Tlierefore,  O  Lord,  I  cast  me  as  a  criminal 
Before  thy  sacred  feet,  O  sweet  Emanuel ; 
Have  pity  then  on  me,  Father  divine. 
Thou  art  the  altir— thou  the  sacrifioe— 
Thou  didst  for  us  what  doth  indeed  suffice. 
Since  God  declares,  'tis  pleasing  in  His  eyes." 

Margaret  had  found  faith,  and  her  soul  became  en- 
raptured with  holy  transport. 

"Word  Divine!  Christ  Jesus!  Lord: 
Only  Son  of  the  Etenial  God— 
The  first  and  last,  and  all-renewing 
Bishop  and  King,  in  might  triumphing. 
From  death,  by  death  delivering. 
Man  is  by  faith  made  son  of  God, 
And  just  and  pure,  kind  like  his  Lord. 
Man  is  by  faith  made  free  from  stain ; 
And  man  by  faith  in  Christ  doth  reign, 
By  faith  I  Christ  possess,  all  riches  gain." 

From  this  period  a  great  change  had  been  effected 
in  the  Duchess  of  Aleufon. 

"  Jfyself  poor,  Ignorant,  impotent, 


Still  the  power  of  evil  was  not  destroyed.  She  felt 
111  her  soul  a  disagreement,  a  struggle  which  astonished 
her. 


HISTOEY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


"  Noble  in  mind,  yet  nature's  slave, 
Offspring  of  heaven,  child  of  the  grave ; 
Throne  of  God,  yet  vessel  of  sin  ; 
Immortal,  rottenness  within ; 
Nourished  by  God,  on  earth  I  feed. 
Fleeing  bad,  yet  loving  evil  deed. 
Reason  I  love,  yet  justice  shun, 
And  till  my  course  on  earth  is  done, 
In  strife  like  this  my  days  must  run." 

Margaret,  seeking  for  some  natiu-al  emblem  which 
might  express  the  wants  and  affections  of  her  soul, 
took,  says  Brantome,  that  of  the  flower  of  the  mari- 
gold, "which,  by  its  corolla  and  leaves,  has  the  greatest 
affinity  with  the  sun,  and  follows  it  wherever  it  goes." 
She  added  the  following  device : — 

"  ^07t  inferiora  secutus  "— 

"  I  follow  not  tlie  things  below." 

"  To  testify,"  adds  the  courtly  writer,  "  that  she 
directed  all  her  actions,  thoughts,  wishes,  and  affec- 
tions to  this  great  Suu,  which  was  God ;  on  this 
account  she  was  suspected  of  Luther's  religion." 

In  fact,  the  princess  soon  experienced  the  truth  of 
the  words,  that  All  ivho  will  live  godly  in  Christ  Jesus 
shall  suffer  jJersecution.  Margaret's  new  opinions  were 
spoken  of  at  court,  and  caused  a  great  explosion. 
What!  even  the  king's  sister  belong  to  those  people! 


MARGARET     OF 


It  might  have  been  thought  for  some  time  that  it  was 
all  over  with  Margaret.  She  was  denounced  to  Fran- 
cis I.  But  the  king,  who  was  very  fond  of  his  sister, 
affected  to  think  there  was  nothing  in  it ;  while  Mar- 
garet's own  character  gi-adually  weakened  opposition. 
Every  one  loved  her;  for,  says  Brantome,  "  she  was 
very  good,  mild,  gracious,  charitable,  of  easy  access,  a 
great  almsgiver,  despising  no  one,  and  gaining  all 
hearts  by  the  good  qualities  which  she  had  in  her." 

Amid  the  corruption  and  levity  of  this  age,  the  mind 
rests  with  delight  on  this  choice  soul,  which  the  grace 


of  God  could  reach  under  all  this  vanity  and  worldly 
grandeur.  But  her  character  as  woman  did  not  allow 
her  to  go  farther.  If  Francis  I.  had  had  the  convic- 
tions of  his  sister,  he  would  doubtless  have  carried 
them  fully  out.  The  timid  heart  of  the  princess 
trembled  before  the  wrath  of  her  king.  She  was  con- 
tinually agitated  bet^veen  her  brother  and  her  Saviour, 
unwilling  to  sacrifice  either  the  one  or  the  other.  She 
cannot  be  regarded  as  a  Christian  who  had  fully 
attained  to  the  liberty  of  the  children  of  God ;  but  is 
a  perfect  type  of  those  superior  minds,  so  numerous  in 
all  ages,  especially  among  females,  who,  while  power- 
fully drawn  towards  heaven,  are,  however,  unable  to 
disengage  themselves  entirely  from  earthly  ties. 

Still,  as  she  is,  she  is  one  of  the  remarkable  charac- 
ters of  history.  Neither  Germany  nor  England  pre- 
sents us  with  a  Margaret  of  Valois.  The  star  is,  no 
doubt,  somewhat  dimmed,  but  there  is  a  surpassing 
softness  in  its  light,  and,  even  at  the  time  of  which  I 
am  now  speaking,  this  light  is  easily  discerned.  It  was 
not  till  a  late  period,  when  the  angry  look  of  Francis  I. 
betokened  mortal  hatred  to  the  Gospel,  that  his  sister, 
in  alarm,  put  a  veil  upon  her  faith.  At  present  she  lifts 
her  head  in  the  midst  of  this  corrupt  court,  and  appears 
in  it  as  a  bride  of  Jesus  Clu-ist.  The  respect  which 
was  paid  to  her,  the  high  opinion  entertained  of  her 
intellect  and  her  heart,  pleaded  the  cause  of  the  Gospel 
before  the  court  of  France  better  than  any  preacher 
could  have  done.  This  mild  female  influence  gave 
access  to  the  new  doctrine.  Perhaps  to  this  period 
may  be  traced  the  leaning  of  the  French  nobility  to 
Protestantism.  Had  Francis  also  followed  his  sister — 
had  the  whole  nation  been  thrown  open  to  Christianity, 
the  conversion  of  Margaret  might  have  proved  the  sal- 
vation of  France.  But  while  the  nobiUty  received  the 
Gospel,  the  throne  and  the  people  still  adhered  to 
Rome.  It  was  ultimately  a  great  misfortune  to  the 
Reformation  to  have  had  Condes  and  Navarres  in  its 
bosom. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Enemies  of  the  Reformation — Louisa— Duprat—Concordat  at  Bologna — 
Opposition  of  the  Parhament  and  the  University— The  Sorbonne— 
Beda— His  Character— His  Tyranny— Berquin,  the  most  Learned  of 
the  Nobles— The  Leaders  of  the  Sorbonne— Heresy  of  the  Three  Mag- 
dalenes— Luther  Condemned  at  Paris— The  Sorbonne  Addi-esses  the 
King — Lefevre  quits  Paris  for  Means. 

Thus  the  Gospel  was  already  making  illustrious  con- 
quests in  France.  In  Paris,  Lefevre,  Bri90unet,  Farel, 
and  Margaret,  joyfully  yielded  to  the  movement  which 
was  beginning  to  shake  the  world.  Francis  I.  himself 
at  this  time  seemed  more  attracted  by  the  charms  of 
literature  than  repulsed  by  the  severity  of  the  Gospel. 
The  friends  of  the  Word  of  God  were  cherishing  the 
fondest  hopes :  they  were  thinking  that  the  heavenly 
doctrine  would  circulate  without  opposition  throughout 
their  native  land,  when  a  formidable  opposition  was 
formed  at  the  Sorbonne  and  the  court.  France,  which 
was,  during  three  centimes,  to  signalize  herself  in  the 
cause  of  Roman  Catholicism  by  her  persecutions,  rose 


LOUISA-DUPRAT— THE  CONCORDAT. 


369 


up  with  pitiless  severity  agaiust  the  Reformation.  If, 
in  the  seventeenth  century,  it  was  a  bloody  victory,  in 
the  sixteenth  it  was  a  fearful  struggle.  Nowlicre,  per- 
haps, (lid  the  reformed  Christians  find  more  merciless 
foes  than  on  the  very  spots  where  they  raised  the 
standard  of  the  Gospel.  In  Germany,  the  enemy 
manifested  his  rage  in  other  states ;  and  in  Switzer- 
land, he  manifested  it  in  other  cantons  ;  but  in  France, 
the  parties  met  face  to  face.  A  dissolute  female,  and 
an  avaricious  minister,  then  stood  at  the  head  of  a  long 
list  of  enemies  of  tlie  Reformation. 

Louisa  of  Savoy,  the  mother  of  the  king  and  of 
Margaret,  notorious  for  her  amours,  despotic  in  her 
wishes,  and  surrounded  by  a  female  court  whose 
licentiousness  was  the  commencement  of  a  long  series 
of  immoralities  and  scandals  in  the  court  of  France, 
naturally  arrayed  herself  against  the  Word  of  God. 
She  was  the  more  to  be  dreaded  in  consequence  of  the 
almost  unlimited  infiuenco  which  she  always  possessed 
over  her  son.  But  the  Gospel  found  a  still  more  for- 
midable adversary  in  Louisa's  favourite,  Anthony 
Duprat,  for  whom  she  proc\n-cd  the  appointment  of 
chancellor  of  the  kingdom.  This  man,  whom  a  con- 
temporary historian  calls  the  most  vicious  of  all  bipeds, 
was  still  more  avaricious  than  Louisa  was  dissolute. 
Having  at  fu-st  enriched  liimself  at  the  expense  of 
justice,  he  afterwards  wished  to  em-ich  himself  at  the 
expense  of  religion,  and  entered  into  orders  that  he 
might  obtain  possession  of  the  richest  benefices. 

Luxury  and  avarice  were  thus  the  characteristics  of 
these  two  personages,  who,  being  both  devoted  to  the 
pope,  sought  to  hide  the  scandals  of  their  life  in  the 
blood  of  heretics. 

One  of  their  first  acts  was  to  deliver  the  kingdom  to 
the  ecclesiastical  domination  of  the  pope.  The  king, 
after  the  battle  of  Marignan,  met  with  Leo  X.  at 
Bologna,  where  was  concluded  the  famous  concordat, 
in  virtue  of  which  these  two  princes  shared  between 
them  the  spoils  of  the  Church.  They  deprived  councils 
of  their  supremacy,  in  order  to  give  it  to  the  pope;  and 
churches  of  the  appointment  to  bishoprics  and  benefices, 
to  give  it  to  the  king.  Then  Francis  I.,  holding  up 
the  train  of  the  pontiff's  mantle,  appeared  in  the  cathe- 
dral church  of  Bologna,  to  ratify  the  negotiation.  He 
felt  the  injustice  of  the  concordat,  and  turning  to 
Duprat,  whispered  in  his  ear:  ''There  is  enough  in  it 
to  damn  us  both."  But  what  cared  he  for  his  salva- 
tion ?  All  he  wanted  was  money  and  an  alliance  with 
the  pope. 

The  parliament  offered  a  vigorous  resistance  to  the 
concordat.  The  king  caused  its  deputies  to  wait  for 
several  weeks  at  Amboise,  till  one  day,  as  he  rose  from 
table,  he  ordered  their  attendance,  and  then  said  to 
them :  "  There  is  a  king  in  France,  and  I  don't  under- 
stand that  a  senate  exists  in  it  as  at  Venice."  Thus 
saying,  he  ordered  them  to  depart  before  sunset.  Evan- 
gelical liberty  had  nothing  to  hope  from  such  a  prince. 
Three  days  after,  Tremouille,  the  grand  chamberlain, 
appeared  in  parliament,  and  ordered  that  the  concordat 
should  be  registered. 

The  university  was  now  agitated.  On  the  18th 
March,  1518,  a  solemn  procession,  all  the  students  and 
bachelors  attending  in  their  gowns,  walked  to  the 
church  of  St,  Catherine  des  Ecoliers,  to  supplicate  the 


Deity  for  the  preservation  of  the  liberties  of  the  Church 
and  of  tiie  kingdom.  "  Then  were  seen  colleges  closed, 
and  scholars  in  armour  walking  over  the  town  in  large 
bands,  threatening,  and  sometimes  maltreating  person- 
ages of  note,  while  engaged,  by  command  of  the  king, 
in  ])ublishing  and  executing  the  said  concordat."  At 
last,  liowever,  the  university  tolerated  its  execution, 
but  without  revoking  the  enactments  by  which  it  had 
declared  its  opposition,  "  and  thereupon,"  says  Correro, 
the  ambassador  of  Venice,  "  the  king  bcgau  liberally 
to  distribute  bishoprics  on  the  solicitation  of  the  ladies 
of  the  court,  and  give  offices  to  his  soldiers ;  so  that  a 
traffic  in  bishoprics  and  offices  was  carried  on  at  the 
court  of  France,  in  the  same  way  as  at  Venice  a  traffic 
is  carried  on  in  pepper  and  cinnamon." 

While  Louisa  and  Duprat  were  preparing  to  destroy 
the  Gospel  by  the  destruction  of  the  liberties  of  the 
Galilean  Church  itself,  in  another  direction  a  fanatical 
and  powerful  party  was  formed  against  the  Bible. 
Christian  truth  has  always  had  two  great  enemies — 
the  dissoluteness  of  tlie  world,  and  the  fanaticism  of 
priests.  Scholastic  Sorbonne  and  a  licentious  coiu-t 
were  to  go  hand  in  hand  against  the  confessors  of 
Jesus  Christ.  In  the  early  days  of  the  Church,  infidel 
Sadducees  and  hypocritical  Pharisees  were  the  bitterest 
enemies  of  Christianity;  and  they  are  so  at  all  times. 
The  darkness  of  the  schools  soon  sent  forth  the  most 
pitiless  adversaries  of  the  Gospel.  At  their  head  was 
Noel  Bedier,  commonly  called  Beda,  a  Picard  by  birth, 
and  syndic  of  the  Sorbonne,  who  has  been  described 
as  the  greatest  brawler  and  the  most  factious  spirit  of 
his  time.  Trained  in  the  dry  sentences  of  scholastics, 
having  grown  up  among  the  theses  and  antitheses  of 
the  Sorbonne,  venerating  every  distinction  of  the  school 
far  more  than  the  Word  of  God,  he  wa.s  transported 
with  rage  against  those  whose  audacious  mouths  dared 
to  utter  other  doctrines.  Of  a  restless  spirit,  unable  to 
give  himself  any  repose,  always  longing  for  new  pur- 
suits, he  was  the  plague  of  all  who  were  near  him. 
Trouble  was  his  element ;  he  seemed  made  to  create 
storms;  when  he  had  no  opponents,  he  attacked  his 
friends.  An  impetuous  quack,  he  made  the  town  and 
the  university  echo  with  ignorant  and  violent  declama- 
tions against  literature,  against  the  innovations  of  the 
time,  and  against  all  who  were  not  at  his  beck  eager 
enough  in  suppressing  them.  Several  laughed  when 
they  heard  him  ;  but  others  gave  credit  to  the  speeches 
of  the  blustering  orator,  whUe  the  violence  of  his 
character  secured  him  a  tyrannical  ascendancy  in  the 
Sorbonne.  He  behoved  ever  to  have  some  opponent 
to  contend  with,  some  victim  to  drag  to  the  scaffold. 
Accordingly,  he  had  found  heretics  before  they  actually 
existed,  and  had  demanded  that  Merlin,  vicar-general 
of  Paris,  should  be  burnt  for  having  attempted  to  justify 
Origen.  But  when  he  saw  the  new  teachers  appear, 
he  bounded  like  the  \\ild  beast  which  suddenly  comes 
upon  a  prey  which  it  can  easily  devour.  "  In  our  Beda 
are  three  thousand  monks,"  said  the  prudent  Erasmus. 

Still  his  very  excesses  injured  his  cause.  "  What !" 
said  the  wisest  men  of  the  age,  "  is  it  on  such  an  Atlas, 
that  the  Romish  Church  is  to  repose  ?  What  causes 
the  fire  but  the  follies  of  Beda?" 

In  fact,  the  same  blustering  oratory  which  struck 
terror  into  the  feeble-minded,  disgusted  generous  minds. 
2b 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


At  the  court  of  Francis  I.  was  a  gentleman  of  Artois, 
uanied  Louis  Berquiu,  who  was  then  about  thirty  years 
of  age,  and  unmarried.  The  purity  of  his  life,  his 
profound  knowledge,  which  procured  liim  the  title  of 
"  tlie  most  learned  of  the  nobility,"  the  frankness  of  his 
disposition,  his  tender  care  of  the  poor,  and  the 
unbounded  attachment  which  he  shewed  to  his  friends, 
distinguished  him  among  his  equals.  The  rites  of  the 
Church,  fasts,  feasts,  and  masses,  had  not  a  stricter 
observer ;  in  particular,  he  manifested  a  perfect  horror 
at  everything  that  was  called  heresy.  It  was  a  mar- 
vellous thing  to  see  so  much  devotion  at  the  coiu-t. 

It  seemed  impossible  that  anything  could  dispose 
sucli  a  man  in  favour  of  the  Reformation.  There  were, 
however,  two  features  in  his  character  which  were 
destined  to  bring  him  to  the  Gospel.  He  had  a 
thorough  disgust  at  everything  like  dissimulation ;  and 
as  he  never  wished  to  wrong  a  single  individual,  so  he 
could  not  bear  to  see  anybody  wronged.  Hence,  the 
tyranny  of  Beda  and  other  fanatics,  their  trickery  and 
persecution,  filled  him  witli  indignation ;  and  as  he  did 
nothing  by  halves,  wherever  he  went,  in  the  city  and 
at  the  court,  "  even  among  the  most  distinguished  of 
the  kingdom,"  he  inveighed  with  the  iitmost  vehemence 
against  the  tyranny  of  these  doctors,  and  attacked, 
"  even  in  their  hives,"  says  Theodore  Beza,  "  those 
odious  hornets  which  were  at  that  time  the  terror  of 
the  world." 

Nor  was  this  enough.  Opposition  to  injustice  led 
Berquin  to  inquire  after  truth.  He  felt  a  desire  to 
know  that  Holy  Scripture,  so  much  loved  by  the  men 
against  whom  13eda  and  his  partisans  were  raging ;  and 
no  sooner  did  he  begin  to  read,  than  it  won  his  heart. 
Berquin  was  immediately  brought  into  communication 
with  Margaret,  Brifonnet,  Lefevre,  and  all  who  loved 
the  Word,  and  from  converse  with  them  derived  the 
purest  enjoyment.  He  felt  that  he  had  some  other 
thing  to  do  than  to  oppose  the  Sorbonne.  He  could 
have  wished  to  make  all  France  acquainted  with  the 
convictions  of  his  own  soul.  He  accordingly  began  to 
write  and  translate  into  French  several  Christian  works. 
It  seemed  to  him  that  every  one  ought  to  acknowledge 
and  embrace  the  truth  as  promptly  as  he  himself  had 
done.  The  impetuosity  which  Beda  displayed  in  the 
cause  of  human  traditions,  Berquin  displayed  in  the 
service  of  the  Word  of  God.  Younger  than  the  syndic 
of  Sorbonne,  less  prudent,  less  able,  his  strength  lay  in 
a  noble  eagerness  for  truth.  Tiiey  were  two  powerful 
wrestlers,  about  to  try  which  could  throw  down  the 
other.  But  Berquin  had  something  else  in  view  than 
to  give  Beda  a  fall.  Accordingly  Theodore  Beza  says, 
"  that  France  would,  perhaps,  have  found  in  Berquin 
another  Luther,  could  he  have  found  in  Francis  I. 
another  elector." 

Numerous  obstacles  were  to  trammel  his  efforts. 
Fanaticism  ever  meets  with  followers :  it  is  a  fire  which 
increases  as  it  goes.  The  monks  and  ignorant  priests 
followed  in  the  train  of  the  syndic  of  the  Sorbonne. 
An  esp7-it  de  corps  reigned  in  this  company  imder  the 
direction  of  certain  intriguers  and  fanatics  who  knew 
adroitly  how  to  avail  themselves  of  the  nonentity  or 
vanity  of  their  colleagues,  in  order  to  make  them  share 
in  their  enmities.  At  each  sitting  these  leaders  were 
the  only  spokesmen,   overawing  the   others  by  their 


violence,  or  reducing  feeble  and  moderate  men  to 
silence.  No  sooner  did  they  make  a  proposal  than 
they  exclaimed  with  threatening  accents :  "  Now  we 
shall  see  who  they  are  that  belong  to  the  faction  of 
Luther."  Did  any  one  give  utterance  to  equitable 
sentiments,  Beda,  Lecouturier,  Duchesne,  and  their 
whole  band,  seemed  horrified,  and  exclaimed  all  at 
once  :  "  It  is  worse  than  Luther !"  This  manoeuvTe 
was  successful.  The  timid,  who  like  better  to  live  in 
peace  than  to  dispute, — those  who  are  ready  to  abandon 
their  own  sentiments  for  their  individual  advantage, — 
those  who  do  not  understand  the  simplest  questions, — 
those,  in  fine,  who  are  always  di-iven  from  their  posi- 
tion by  clamour, — were  dragged  along  by  Beda  and 
his  tribe.  Some  remained  mute,  others  shouted,  all 
gave  implicit  submission  to  the  power  which  a  proud 
and  tyrannical  spirit  exercises  over  vulgar  souls.  Such 
was  the  condition  of  this  company,  which  was  regarded 
as  so  venerable,  and  which  was  then  the  most  impas- 
sioned enemy  of  evangelical  Christianity.  A  glance 
at  the  most  celebrated  bodies  would  often  be  sufiicient 
to  set  a  just  value  on  the  war  which  they  wage  against 
truth. 

Thus  the  university  which,  under  Louis  XII.,  had 
applauded  the  attempts  at  independence  by  Allniain, 
again  plunged  all  at  once  into  fanaticism  and  servility 
under  Duprat  and  Louisa  of  Saxony.  If  we  except 
the  Jansenists,  and  some  other  teachers,  we  nowhere 
find  a  true  and  noble  independence  in  the  Galilean 
clergy.  All  they  have  done  has  been  to  oscillate  be- 
tween servility  towards  the  coiu't  and  servility  towards 
the  pope.  If  under  Louis  XII.  or  Louis  XIV.,  there 
was  some  appearance  of  liberty,  it  was  because  their 
master  of  Paris  was  then  contending  with  their  master 
of  Rome.  This  explains  the  sudden  change  to  which 
we  have  just  referred.  The  university  and  the  bishops 
ceased  to  remember  their  rights  and  their  duties  the 
moment  the  king  ceased  to  demand  it  of  them. 

Beda  had  long  been  irritated  against  Lefe^Te.  The 
fame  of  the  doctor  of  Picardy  enraged  his  fellow- 
countryman  and  offended  his  pride.  He  could  have 
wished  to  shut  Lefevre's  mouth.  Once  akeady  had 
Beda  attacked  the  doctor  of  Etaples ;  and  little  skilled 
as  he  was  in  discerning  evangelical  doctrines,  he  had 
attacked  his  colleague  on  a  point  which,  strange  as  it 
may  seem,  well-nigh  brought  Lefevre  to  the  scaffold. 
Lefevi'e  had  maintained  that  Mary,  the  sister  of  Lazarus, 
Mary  Magdalene,  and  the  woman  that  was  a  sinner,  of 
whom  St.  Luke  speaks,  (Luke  xvii.,)  were  three  dif- 
ferent individuals.  The  Greek  Fathers  had  distin- 
guished between  them ;  but  the  Latin  Fathers  had 
confounded  them.  This  dreadful  heresj/  of  the  three 
Magdalenes  set  Beda  and  all  liis  host  in  motion. 
Christendom  was  aroused.  Fisher,  bishop  of  Rochester, 
one  of  the  most  distinguished  prelates  of  that  age, 
wrote  against  Lefevre,  and  the  whole  Church  decided 
against  an  opinion  now  received  by  all  Roman  Catholics. 
Lefevre,  who  had  been  previously  condemned  by  the 
Sorbonne,  was  prosecuted  as  a  heretic  by  the  Parlia- 
ment, when  Francis  I.,  who  was  delighted  at  the 
opportunity  of  striking  a  blow  at  the  Sorbonne,  and 
humbling  monkery,  rescued  him  from  the  hands  of  his 
persecutors. 

Beda,  indignant  at  being  deprived  of  his  victim, 


LUTHER  CONDEMNED  AT  PARIS. 


371 


determined  to  take  his  mciisuvcs  better  next  time. 
Luther's  name  was  beginning  to  make  a  noise  iu 
France.  The  reformer,  after  the  Leipsic  discussion 
witii  Dr.  Eck,  had  agreed  to  submit  to  tlic  decision  of 
the  uiiivei-sities  of  Erfurt  and  Paris.  Tiio  zeal  which 
the  luiivcrsity  had  disphiyed  against  the  concordat, 
doubtless,  made  liim  hope  that  lie  would  find  impartial 
judges  in  its  bosom.  But  times  had  changed;  and  the 
more  decision  tlie  faculty  had  shewn  against  the 
eiici-ouciinn'iits  of  IJome,  the  more  it  wiis  bent  on 
di>|il:iyiiig  Rome's  ortliodoxy.  Ecda  tlius  found  it 
([iiile  iiK'liiuiI  to  enter  into  his  views. 

On  the  2(Uh  January,  1520,  tlie  censor  of  the  French 
nation  purciiascd  twenty  copies  of  Luther's  conference 
with  Dr.  Eck,  for  tiie  purpose  of  distributing  them 
among  the  members  of  the  company  who  were  to 
report  on  this  affair.  More  than  a  year  was  employed 
in  tiie  investigation.  The  Reformation  of  Germany 
was  beginning  to  make  an  immense  seu.sation  in  France. 
The  universities,  wliich  were  tlicu  institutions  of  true 
catholicity,  and  whicli  were  attended  by  crowds  of 
students  from  all  tlie  countries  of  Christenelom,  brought 
Germany,  France,  Switzerland,  and  England,  into 
closer  ami  readier  connection  in  regard  to  theology  and 
philosophy,  than  is  the  case  at  the  present  day.  Tiie 
noise  which  Luther's  work  had  made  at  Paris,  strengtli- 
ened  the  hands  of  the  Lefevres,  Bri9onnets,  and  FareLs. 
Each  of  his  victories  animated  them  with  courage. 
Several  of  the  doctors  of  Sorbonne  were  struck  vnth 
the  admirable  truths  which  they  found  in  the  writings 
of  the  monk  of  Wittemberg.  Candid  confessions  were 
made ;  but  at  the  same  time  fierce  opposition  was 
aroused.  "All  Europe,"  says  Crcvicr,  "were  anxiously 
awaiting  the  decision  of  the  university  of  Paris." 
The  struggle  seemed  doubtfid  ;  but  at  last  Beda  carried 
the  day.  In  April,  1521,  the  university  decided  that 
Luther's  works  should  be  publicly  committed  to  the 
flames,  and  that  their  author  should  be  compelled  to 
recant. 

Nor  was  this  enough.  Indeed,  the  disciples  of 
Luther  had  crossed  the  Rhine  still  more  rapidly  than 
his  writings.  "  In  a  short  time,"  says  the  Jesuit  Maim- 
bourg,  "  the  university  was  filled  with  strangers,  who, 
because  they  knew  a  little  of  Hebrew,  and  a  good  deal 
of  Greek,  acquired  a  reputation,  insinuated  themselves 
into  the  houses  of  persons  of  quality,  and  used  an  inso- 
lent liberty  in  interpreting  the  Bible."  The  faculty 
named  a  deputation  to  present  its  complaints  to  the 
king. 

Francis  I.,  caring  little  for  the  quarrels  of  theolo- 
gians, continued  his  round  of  amusements  ;  and  con- 
ducting the  gentlemen  and  ladies  of  the  court  of  his 
mother  and  sister  from  chateau  to  chateau,  gave  him- 
self up  to  all  sorts  of  dissipation,  far  away  from  the 
annoying  gaze  of  the  citizens  of  his  capital.  He  thus 
travelled  over  Brittany,  Anjou,  Guienne,  Angoumois, 
and  Poitou,  claiming  the  same  service  in  villages  and 
forests  as  if  he  had  been  at  Paris  in  the  chateau  des 
Tournellcs.  There  were  tourneys,  combats,  masque- 
rades, sumptuous  entertainments,  tables  covered  with 
dainties,  "  by  which,"  says  Brantome,  "  those  of  Lucul- 
lus  were  far  surpassed." 

For  a  moment,  however,  he  interrupted  the  round 
of  his  pleasures  to  receive  the  grave  deputies  of  the 


Sorbonne.  But  lio  saw  only  learned  men  in  those 
whom  the  faculty  denounced  to  liim  as  heretics. 
Would  a  prince,  who  boasted  that  ho  had  taken  the 
kings  of  France  out  of  leading  stn'iif/n,  lower  his  head 
before  some  fanatical  doctors '?  "  I  am  not  wiling," 
replied  lie,  "  that  those  people  be  molested.  To  perse- 
cute those  who  teach,  would  be  to  prevent  men  of 
talent  from  coming  into  the  kingdom." 

The  deputation  retired  in  a  rage.  What  was  to  be 
the  result?  The  evil  was  increasing  from  day  to  day; 
already  men  were  beginning  to  call  heretical  opinions 
" sentiments  of  men  of  genius;"  the  devouring  flame 
was  spreading  into  the  most  secret  recesses.  The  con- 
flagration would  blaze,  and  throughout  France  the 
cdilice  of  faith  would  tumble  with  a  cnush. 

Beda  and  his  faction,  unable  to  obtain  scaffolds  from 
the  king,  had  recourse  to  more  hidden  persecution. 
There  was  no  kind  of  annoyance  to  which  the  evan- 
gelical doctors  were  not  subjected.  There  were  con- 
stantly new  reports  and  new  denunciations.  Old 
Lefevre,  tormented  by  these  ignorant  zealots,  sighed 
for  repose.  The  pious  Brifonnet,  who  ceased  not  to 
express  his  veneration  for  the  doctor  of  Etaplos,  offered 
him  an  asylum.  Lefevre  left  Paris  and  repaired  to 
Meaux.  This  was  a  first  advantage  gained  over  the 
Gospel,  and  it  was  thenceforth  seen  that  if  the  faction 
could  not  succeed  iu  gaining  the  aid  of  tlie  civil  power, 
it  had  a  secret  fanatical  police,  by  means  of  which  it 
could  surely  attain  its  end. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Brii;onnct  Visits  Iiis  Diocese— Reformation— Tlie  Eefomicrs  Prosecnteil  nt 
Paris— Pliiliberta  of  Savoy— Correspondence  of  Margaret  and  Briconnet. 

Thcs  Paris  began  to  take  part  against  the  Reforma- 
tion, and  trace  the  first  lines  of  that  enclosure  which 
was  destined,  for  nearly  three  centuries,  to  hedge  in  the 
capital  from  the  reformed  worship.  God  had  been 
pleased  that  the  first  rays  of  the  Reformation  should 
appear  in  Paris ;  but  men  immediately  exerted  them- 
selves in  extinguishing  them :  the  spirit  of  the  Sixteen 
was  already  fermenting  in  the  metropolis,  and  other 
towns  of  the  kingdom  were  about  to  welcome  the  light 
which  the  capital  spurned  away. 

Brifounet,  on  returning  to  his  diocese,  had  displayed 
the  zeal  of  a  Christian  and  a  bishop.  He  had  visited 
all  his  parishes,  and  assembling  the  deans,  curates, 
vicars,  church-wardens,  and  the  principal  parishioners, 
had  made  himself  acquainted  wth  the  doctrine  and 
lives  of  the  preachers.  At  the  collecting  season,  he 
was  told,  the  Franciscans  of  Meaux  began  their  course; 
a  single  preacher  went  over  several  parishes  in  one 
day,  repeating  the  same  sermon  at  each  place,  not  in 
order  to  nourish  the  souls  of  his  hearers,  but  to  fill  his 
belly,  his  purse,  and  his  convent.  The  wallet  once 
filled,  the  end  was  attained,  the  preachers  concluded, 
and  the  monks  did  not  again  appear  in  the  churches 
till  another  begging  season  arrived.  The  only  business 
of  these  shepherds  is  to  clip  the  wool  off  their  flocks. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


On  the  other  hand,  the  curates,  for  the  greater  part, 
spent  their  incomes  at  Paris.  "  Oh  !"  said  the  pious 
bishop,  on  finding  a  presbytery  which  he  came  to  visit 
empty,  "  are  not  those  traitors  who  thus  abandon  the 
warfare  of  Christ?"  Bri9onnet  resolved  to  remedy 
these  evils,  and  convened  a  meeting  of  all  his  clergy 
on  13th  October,  1.519.  But  these  worldly  priests, 
who  cared  little  for  the  remonstrances  of  their  bishop, 
and  for  whom  Paris  had  so  many  charms,  took  advan- 
tage of  a  custom,  in  virtue  of  which  they  could  present 
one  or  more  vicars  to  feed  their  flocks  in  then-  absence. 
Out  of  one  hundi'ed  and  twenty-seven  vicars,  Brifonnet 
found  only  iifteen  whom  he  approved. 

Worldly  curates,  imbecile  vicars,  monks  who  thought 
only  of  their  belly; — such  was  the  condition  of  the 
Church.  Brifonuet  denied  the  use  of  the  pulpit  to 
the  Franciscans,  and  persuaded  that  the  only  method 
of  filling  his  bishopric  with  good  ministers,  was  to 
form  them  himself,  he  determined  on  founding  a  school 
of  theology  at  Mp-t'^,  and  plncing  it  under  pious  and 
learned  teioheia  It  -wa-^  ncte-'iiy  to  find  them. 
They  were  furnished  by  Bedi 


In  fact,  this  fanatical  man  and  his  company  gave 
themselves  no  rest,  and  complaining  bitterly  of  the 
toleration  of  the  government,  declared  that  they  would 
make  war  on  the  new  doctrines  with  it,  without  it,  or 
against  it.  It  was  in  vain  that  Lefevre  had  quitted  the 
capital.  Did  not  Farel  and  his  friends  remain  ?  Farel, 
it  was  true,  did  not  mount  the  pulpit,  for  he  was  not  a 
priest ;  but  at  the  university,  in  the  town,  with  the  pro- 
fessors, priests,  students,  and  citizens,  he  boldly  main- 
tained the  cause  of  the  Eeformation.  Others,  animated 
by  his  example,  were  always  becoming  more  open  in 
spreading  the  Word  of  God.  Martial  Mazurier,  a 
celebrated  preacher,  and  president  of  the  college  of  St. 
Michael,  used  no  disguise  in  painting  the  disorders  of 
the  times  in  the  darkest,  yet  truest  colours;  and  it 
seemed  impossible  to  withstand  the  power  of  his 
eloquence.  The  rage  of  Beda  and  his  theological 
partisans  knew  no  bounds.  "If  we  tolerate  these 
innovators,"  said  he,  "  they  will  gain  possession  of  the 
whole  body,  and  it  will  be  all  over  with  our  lectures, 


our  traditions,  our  places,  and  the  respect  shewn  to  us 
by  France  and  all  Christendom." 

The  theologians  of  the  Sorbonne  proved  the  strongest. 
Farel,  Mazurier,  Gerard  Eoussel,  and  his  brother 
Arnaud,  soon  saw  their  activity  everywhere  paralyzed. 
The  Bishop  of  Meaux  urged  his  friends  to  come  and 
join  Lefevre ;  and  these  excellent  men,  hounded  by  the 
Sorbonne,  and  hoping  that,  beside  Brifonnet,  they 
might  be  able  to  form  a  holy  phalanx  for  the  triumph 
of  the  truth,  accepted  the  invitation  of  the  bishop,  and 
repaired  to  Meaux.  Thus  the  Gospel  light  gradually 
withdrew  from  the  capital  where  Providence  had 
kindled  its  first  rays.  T/iis  is  the  condemnation,  that 
light  is  come  into  the  ivorld,  and  men  have  loved  the  dark- 
ness rather  than  the  light,  because  their  deeds  are  evil, 
(John  iii.  19.)  It  is  impossible  not  to  perceive  that 
Paris  at  this  time  drew  down  upon  itself  the  judgment 
which  these  words  of  our  Saviour  express. 

Margaret  of  Valois,  deprived  successively  of  Brii;on- 
net.  Lefevre.  and  their  friends,  felt  uneasy  when  she 
saw  hei-^elt  alone  in  the  midst  of  Paris  and  the  licen- 
tious court  of  Francis  I.  She  was  on  intimate  terms 
\\  ith  Philiberta  of  Savoy,  a  young  princess, 
hei  mother's  sister.  Philiberta,  whom  the 
king,  in  order  to  seal  the  concordat,  had  given 
in  m  irriage  to  Julian  the  Magnificent,  brother 
t  )  Llo  X.,  had,  after  her  marriage,  gone  to 
Kome,  where  the  pope,  overjoyed  at  the 
illustuous  alliance,  had  expended  a  hundred 
iiid  fifty  thousand  ducats  in  giving  her  sump- 
tuous fetes.  In  1516,  Julian,  when  in  com- 
111  iiid  of  the  army  of  the  pope,  died,  leaving 
ln>  widow  at  the  age  of  eighteen.  She  became 
lit  iched  to  Margaret,  who  by  her  talents  and 
lii-r  \irtues  had  great  influence  on  all  around 
hi.r  The  grief  of  Philiberta  opened  her  heart 
t  )  the  voice  of  religion.  Margaret  imparted 
t  )  hoi  whatever  she  read,  and  the  widow  of 
_  the  lioiitenant-general  of  the  Church  began 

to  lelish  the  soothing  doctrine  of  salvation. 
But  Philiberta  was  too  inexperienced  to  sup- 
port her  friend  Margaret,  who  often  felt 
humbled  in  thinking  of  her  great  weakness. 
If  the  love  which  she  bore  to  the  king, 
and  the  fear  she  had  of  displeasing  him,  led  her 
into  some  act  contrary  to  her  conscience,  she  was 
immediately  troubled  in  her  soul,  and  turning  again  in 
sadness  toward  the  Lord,  she  found  in  Him  a  master, 
a  brother,  more  merciful  and  more  soothing  to  her 
heart  than  Francis  himself.  At  such  a  time  she  thus 
addressed  her  Saviour: 

"  O  gentle  brother!  who,  when  thoa  mightest  chide 
Thy  eiTing  sister,  call'st  her  to  thy  side ; 
For  murmur,  injury,  and  great  offence. 
Dost  give  her  gi-ace  and  love,  as  recompense. 
Too  much,  alas  !  yea,  far  too  much,  my  brother ; 
In  me  is  no  desert  of  such  a  treasure." 

Margaret,  seeing  all  her  friends  retiring  to  Meaux, 
turned  a  sad  look  towards  them  amid  the  festivities  of 
the  court.  Every  one  seemed  to  abandon  her.  Her 
husband,  the  Duke  d'Alencon,  was  setting  out  for  the 
army;  her  young  aunt  Philiberta,  for  Savoy.  The 
duchess  turned  towards  Brigonnet,  and  thus  wrote  him : 


MARGARET'S  SORROWS. 


373 


"Monsieur  dc  Meaux, — Knowing  that  only  One  is 
necessary,  I  address  myself  to  you,  praying  you  to 
supplicate  Heaven  to  guide,  agreeably  to  its  lioly  will, 
M.  d'Alen^'iin,  who,  by  command  of  the  king,  is  setting 
out  as  a  lieutenant-general  of  the  army,  wliich,  I  feiu-, 
will  not  be  disbanded  without  war.  And  thinking 
that,  independent  of  the  public  good  of  the  kingdom, 
you  have  a  good  title  in  wliatever  touches  his  salvation 
and  mine,  1  ask  your  spiritual  aid.  To-morrow  my 
aunt  sets  out  from  Nemoui-s  for  Savoy.  I  am  obliged 
to  occupy  myself  with  many  things  which  give  me 
many  fears.  Wherefore,  if  you  know  that  master 
Michael  could  undertake  a  journey,  it  would  give  me  a 
consolation  which  I  ask  only  for  the  glory  of  God." 

Michael  d'Arande,  whose  assistance  Margaret  re- 
quested, was  one  of  the  members  of  the  evangelical 
society  of  Meaux,  who,  at  a  later  period,  exposed  him- 
self to  many  dangers  in  preaching  the  Gospel. 


The  pious  punce-s  -n  i^  ahimcd  when  she  siw  the 
formidable  opposition  which  was  rising  and  increasing 
against  the  truth.  Duprat  and  the  men  in  power" 
Bcda  and  those  of  the  Sorbonne,  filled  her  with  dismay. 
Bri(^onnet,  in  order  to  strengthen  her,  says  iu  his  reply: 
"  War  is  what  our  gracious  Saviour  says  in  the  Gospel 
He  had  brought  upon  the  earth ;  it  was  also  fire,  .  . 
great  fire,  by  which  the  terrestrial  is  transformed  into 
the  divine.  I  desire  with  all  my  heart  to  aid  you, 
madam ;  but  from  my  own  nothingness,  expect  no 
more  than  the  will.  AVhoso  hath  faith,  hope,  and  love, 
has  all  that  is  nccessar)-,  and  has  no  need  of  aid  or 
assistance.  .  .  .  God  is  aU  iu  all,  and  out  of  Him 
is  nothing  to  be  found.  In  contending,  have  a  stout 
heart,  .  .  .  and  love  unspeakable.  .  .  .  The 
war  is  carried  on  through  love.  Jesus  demands  the 
heart :  unhappy  the  man  who  is  estranged  from  Him. 
He  who  fights  in  person  is  certain  of  victory.  He 
often  falls  who  fights  by  others." 


The  Bishop  of  Meanx  began  himself  to  know  what 
it  is  to  fight  for  the  Word  of  God.  Theologians  and 
monks,  indignant  at  the  asylum  which  he  gave  to  the 
friends  of  the  Reformation,  violently  accused  him ;  so 
that  his  brother,  the  Bishop  of  St.  Malo,  came  to  Paris 
to  examine  the  affairs.  Margaret  was  so  much  the 
more  touched  by  the  consolation  which  Brifonnet 
offered  her,  and  replied  with  an  offer  of  her  assistance. 

Writing  him,  she  says :  "  If  in  anything  you  think  I 
can  be  of  service  to  you  or  yours,  rest  assured  that  any 
trouble  I  may  take  will  be  my  comfort.  May  eternal 
peace  be  given  you,  after  those  long  wars  which  you 
carry  on  for  the  faith,  and  in  which  you  desire  to  die. 
— Ever  your  daughter, 

"  Makgaret." 

It  is  to  be  lamented  that  Bricjonnet  did  not  die  in 
the  struggle.  Nevertheless,  he  was  then  full  of  zeal. 
Philiberta  of  Nemours,  respected  by  all  for  her  sincere 
devotion,  her  liberality  towards  the  poor,  and  the  great 
purity  of  her  manners,  read  with  keen  and  increasing 
interest  the  evangelical  writings  sent  her  by  the  Bishop 
of  Meaux.  '•  I  have  all  the  tracts  which  you  sent  me," 
wrote  Margaret  to  Bri9onuet ;  '•  my  aunt  of  Ncmoiu-s 
has  had  her  share.  I  will  send  her  the  last,  for  she  is 
in  Savoy  at  the  marriage  of  her  brother,  which  is  no 
small  loss  to  me ;  wherefore,  I  pray  you  to  have  pity 
on  me  in  my  solitude."  Unhappily,  Philiberta  did  not 
live  long  enough  to  declare  decidedly  in  favour  of  the 
Reformation.  She  died  in  1524,  at  the  castle  of  Virieu 
Ic  Grand,  in  Bugey,  at  the  age  of  twenty-six.  This 
was  a  sad  blow  to  Margaret.  Her  friend,  her  sister, 
she  who  could  entirely  understand  her,  was  taken  from 
her.  Perhaps  there  was  only  one  other  death,  that  of 
her  brother,  at  which  she  felt  greater  agony  than  now. 

So  many  tears  bedew  my  eyes, 

They  veil  iny  view  of  earth  and  skies, 

And  like  a  spring  incessant  rise. 

Margaret,  feeling  how  weak  she  was  in  resisting 
gi-ief  and  the  seductions  of  the  court,  begged  Bri9onnet 
to  exhort  her  to  the  love  of  God.  The  bishop  replied: 
"  Our  mild  and  gracious  Lord,  who  wills,  and  who  alone 
can  do  what  He  powerfully  wills,  is,  in  His  infinite 
goodness,  visiting  your  heart,  exhorting  it  to  love  Him 
with  its  own  self.  No  other  than  He,  madam,  has 
power  to  do  so  ;  you  must  not  expect  light  from  dark- 
ness, nor  heat  from  cold.  By  attracting  He  inflames, 
and  by  inflaming  enlarges  the  heart,  inducing  it  to  fol- 
low Him.  Madam,  you  ask  me  to  have  pity  upon  you 
because  you  are  alone.  I  do  not  understand  this  state- 
ment. He  who  lives  in  the  world,  and  has  his  heart 
in  it,  remains  alone.  Excess  and  evil  are  companions. 
But  she  whose  heart  is  asleep  to  the  world,  and  awake 
to  the  meek  and  gracious  Jesus,  her  true  and  faithful 
husband,  is  truly  alone,  living  necessarily  in  Him  alone, 
and  yet  is  not  alone,  because  not  abandoned  by  Him 
who  fills  and  keeps  all.  Pity  I  cannot  and  must  not 
have  for  such  solitude,  which  is  more  to  be  esteemed 
than  the  whole  world,  from  which  I  am  assured  that 
the  love  of  God  has  saved  you,  so  that  you  are  no 
longer  its  child.  Madam,  remain  alone  in  Him  who 
was  pleased  to  suffer  a  painful  and  ignominious  death 
and  passion. 

"  Madam,  recommending  myself  to  your  good  graces, 
I  beg  you  will  be  pleased  no  longer  to  use  expressions 


374 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFOEMATION. 


similar  to  tliose  in  your  last.  Of  God  alone  are  you 
the  daughter  and  spouse ;  no  other  father  must  you 
claim.  ...  I  exhort  and  admonish  you  to  be  to 
Him  as  good  a  daughter  as  He  is  a  good  Father ;  .  . 
and  though  you  should  not  be  able  to  attain  to  this,  I 
beg  He  would  be  pleased  to  increase  your  strengtli, 
that  you  may  wholly  love  and  serve  Him." 

Notwithstanding  of  these  words,  Margaret  was  not 
yet  comforted,  iihe  bitterly  regretted  the  spiritual 
guides  of  whom  she  had  been  deprived ;  the  new 
pastors  whom  it  was  sought  to  impose  upon  her  in 
order  to  gain  her  back,  had  not  her  confidence ;  and 
after  all  that  the  bishop  said  she  felt  herself  alone  in 
the  midst  of  the  court.  All  around  her  seemed  dark 
and  desert.  In  a  letter  to  Brifonnet,  she  says:  "Just 
as  a  sheep  in  a  strange  land,  wandering  unacquainted 
with  its  pasture,  not  knowing  the  new  shepherds, 
naturally  raises  its  head  to  get  a  view  of  the  nook 
where  the  chief  shepherd  was  wont  to  give  it  sweet 
nurture,  am  I  constrained  to  beg  your  cliarity.  Come 
down  from  the  high  mountain,  and  among  all  tliis 
people  estranged  from  the  light,  look  in  pity  on  the 
blindest  of  all  the  flock.  Margaret." 

The  Bishop  of  Meaux,  in  his  answer,  continuing  the 
figure  of  a  wandering  sheep,  proceeds  to  represent  the 
mysteries  of  salvation  under  the  figure  of  a  forest. 
"  The  sheep,"  says  he,  "  going  into  the  forest,  being  led 
by  the  Holy  Spirit,  is  forthwith  enraptured  with  the 
richness,  beauty,  straightness,  length,  breadth,  depth, 
and  height,  the  invigorating  and  odoriferous  fragrance 
of  this  forest ;  and  after  looking  all  around,  sees  only 
Him  in  all,  and  all  in  Him;  and  moving  along  with 
rapid  step,  finds  it  so  pleasant  that  the  journey  is  like 
life,  joy,  and  consolation."  The  bishop  next  repre- 
sents the  sheep  vainly  seeking  the  extremity  of  the 
forest,  (a  figure  of  the  soul  trying  to  fathom  the  myste- 
ries of  God,)  falling  in  with  high  mountains  which  it 
attempts  to  climb,  but  everywhere  finds  "infinitude 
inaccessible  and  incomprehensible."  Then  he  shews 
her  the  path  by  which  the  soul  in  quest  of  God  sur- 
mounts these  difficulties ;  he  shews  her  how  the  sheep, 
in  the  midst  of  mercenaries,  finds  "the  nook  of  the  great 
Shephei-d."  "  By  means  of  faith,"  says  he,  "  it  begins 
the  flight  of  contemplation ;"  everything  is  made  smooth, 
everything  is  explained,  and  it  begins  to  sing :  "  I  have 
found  Him  whom  my  soul  loveth." 

Thus  spoke  the  Bishop  of  Meaux.  At  this  time, 
burning  with  zeal,  he  wished  to  see  France  renewed 
by  the  Gospel.  Often,  in  particidar,  his  mind  turned 
to  the  three  great  personages  who  seemed  to  preside 
over  the  destinies  of  his  countrymen.  He  thought  that 
if  the  royal  family  was  enlightened,  the  whole  people 
would  be  so ;  and  that  the  priests,  aroused  to  jealousy, 
would  at  length  quit  their  death-like  state.  "  Madam," 
wrote  he  to  Margaret,  "  I  pray  God  most  humbly,  that 
He  would  be  pleased,  by  His  goodness,  to  kindle  a  fire 
in  the  hearts  of  the  king,  madam,  and  yourself,  so  that 
you  three  may  burn  with  a  brilliant  flame  which  will 
enkindle  the  rest  of  the  kingdom,  and  specially  that 
order  by  the  coldness  of  which  all  others  are  frozen." 

Margaret  did  not  share  these  hopes.  She  speaks 
neither  of  her  brother  nor  her  mother ;  it  was  a  subject 
which  she  dared  not  touch ;  but  replying  to  the  bishop, 
in  January,  1522,  (her  heart  dulled  by  the  indifference 


and  worldliness  which  surrounded  her,)  she  says  to 
him :  "  The  time  is  so  cold,  the  heart  so  frozen  " — 
and  she  signs — "  Your  frozen,  thirsty,  and  famishing 
daughter,  Margaret." 

This  letter  did  not  discourage  Brifonnet,  but  it  made 
him  enter  into  himself ;  and  there  feeling  how  much  he 
who  wished  to  quicken  others  stood  in  need  of  being 
quickened,  he  commended  himself  to  the  prayers  of 
Margaret  and  Madame  de  Nemours.  "  Madam,"  wrote 
he  with  great  simplicity,  ' '  I  beg  you  by  your  prayers 
to  awaken  a  poor  slumberei'." 

Such,  in  1521,  were  the  views  exchanged  at  the 
court  of  the  King  of  France, — strange  views,  doubtless, 
which,  after  a  lapse  of  more  than  three  ceutiu-ies,  a 
manuscript  of  the  Eoyal  Library  of  Paris  has  revealed. 
Was  this  influence  of  the  Eeformation  in  so  high  a 
quarter  advantageous  to  it,  or  was  it  hurtful?  The 
arrow  of  truth  penetrated  to  the  coui't ;  but,  perhaps, 
only  served  to  awaken  the  slumbering  ferocious  beast, 
to  stir  up  its  rage,  and  made  it  pounce  with  greater 
fury  on  the  humblest  of  the  flock. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

First  Ik'gmuiiiss  of  the  Chm-cli  of  Meaux-Tlio  S^  ii|.li,i.  ,  in  rinnl,  -Tlis 
Tradesman  and  the  Bishop— Evangelical  1 1   1  i'      1       ilr.i.fSt. 

Paul  scut  to  the  King— Lefevie  and  Run,  .     ;        M   i        i    :  ic  the 
Bishop— Tlie  Monks  before  the  Pai-liament— I'u  ■,■  nn'  i  \  u  !  1 

In  fact  the  tune  was  approaching  when  the  storm  was 
to  burst  on  the  Reformation.  Previously,  however,  it 
was  to  shed  some  additional  seeds  and  reap  some  grain. 
This  town  of  Meaux,  made  famous  a  century  and  a-half 
afterwards  by  the  sublime  defender  of  the  Galilean 
system  against  the  despotic  pretensions  of  Rome,  was 
destined  to  become  the  first  town  in  France  in  which  a 
renovated  Christianity  was  to  establish  its  empu-e.  It 
was  at  this  time  the  field  on  which  the  cultivators  were 
bestowing  labom-  aud  seed,  and  where  they  were 
already  laying  down  some  sheaves.  Bri90iuiet,  less 
asleep  than  he  said  he  was,  animated,  inspected,  aud 
directed  everything.  His  fortune  equalled  his  zeal ; 
never  did  man  make  a  nobler  use  of  his  wealth,  and 
never  did  such  noble  devoteduess  seem  destined  from 
the  outset  to  bear  such  excellent  fruit.  Transported 
to  Meaux,  the  pious  teachers  of  Pturis  thenceforth  acted 
with  new  freedom.  There  was  an  emancipation  of  the 
Word,  and  the  Reformation  in  France  moved  rapidly 
forward.  Lefevrc  forcibly  expounded  that  Gospel 
with  which  he  would  fain  have  filled  the  world.  "  It 
is  necessary,"  said  he,  "  that  kings,  princes,  nobles, 
jwople,  all  nations,  think  only  of  Jesus  Christ,  and 
aspire  to  Ilim.  Each  priest  must  resemble  the  angel 
that  St.  John  saw  in  the  Apocalypse,  flying  through 
the  midst  of  heaven,  holding  in  his  hand  the  eternal 
Gospel,  and  carrying  it  to  every  people,  tongue,  and 
kindreci,  and  nation.  Come  pontiff,  come  kings,  come 
generous  hearts!  .  .  .  Nations,  awaken  to  the 
light  of  the  Gospel,  and  breathe  life  eternal!  The 
Word  of  God  is  sufficient." 

Such,  in  fact,  was  the  motto  of  this  school :  "  T/ic 


THE  SCRIPTURES  IN  FRENCH. 


375 


Word  of  God  is  sufficient."  The  whole  Reformation  is 
comprehended  in  this  sentence.  "  To  know  Christ  and 
His  Word,"  said  Lcfevre,  RousscI,  Farel,  "is  the  alone 
living,  the  alone  universal  theology.  He  who  knows 
tliis,  knows  all." 

The  trutli  iiroducod  a  deep  impression  in  Mcaux. 
First  separate  meetings  were  held,  next  conferences, 
and  at  last  the  Go.-^pol  was  preached  in  tlie  churclies. 
But  a  new  exertion  wliich  was  made  gave  a  still  more 
formidable  blow  to  Konie. 

Lefovrc  wished  to  enable  tlic  Christians  of  France 
to  read  the  Holy  Scriptures.  On  the  30th  October, 
1522,  he  published  tlie  French  translation  of  the  four 
Gospels;  and  on  the  (Jtli  November,  that  of  the  other 
books  of  the  New  Testament.  On  the  12th  October, 
Collin,  at  Meaux,  published  a  volume  containing  the 
whole  of  the  books  thus  translated;  and  in  1525,  a 
Frencli  version  of  the  Psalms.  Thus  began  in  France, 
almost  at  the  same  time  as  in  Germany,  the  preaching 
and  dissemination  of  the  Scriptures  in  the  vulgar  ton- 
gue— a  procediu'e  which  was,  three  centuries  after- 
Wiirds,  to  bo  carried  to  so  gi-eat  au  extent  over  tlie 
whole  world.  In  France,  as  on  the  other  side  of  the 
Rhine,  the  Bible  had  a  decisive  inHueuce.  Experience 
had  taught  many  Frenchmen,  that  when  they  sought 
to  know  Divine  things,  doubt  and  obscurity  appeared 
on  every  side.  How  many  moments,  and  perhaps  years, 
in  their  lives,  during  which  they  have  been  tempted 
to  regard  the  most  certain  truths  as  illusions !  We 
must  have  light  from  above  to  illumine  our  darkness! 
Such  was  the  sigh  of  many  souls  at  the  period  of  the 
Reformation.  AVitli  such  desires,  many  received  the 
sacred  books  from  the  hands  of  Lcfevre.  They  were 
read  in  families  and  in  the  closet ;  and  conversations 
on  the  Bible  became  frequent ;  Christ  appeared  to  their 
long  bewildered  spirits  as  the  sun  and  centre  of  all 
revelation.  There  was  no  more  need  of  demonstra- 
tions to  prove  to  them  that  the  Scriptures  were  from 
tlic  Lord.  This  they  knew,  for  it  had  transformed 
them  from  darkness  to  light. 

Such  was  the  progi-ess  by  which  distinguished  indi- 
viduals in  France  airived  at  the  knowledge  of  God. 
But  there  were  other  methods  more  simple,  and  if  the 
thing  be  possible,  more  vulgar,  by  which  many  of  the 
people  attained  to  the  truth.  The  population  of  Meaux 
consisted  almost  entirely  of  mechanics  and  people 
trading  in  wool.  "  In  many,"  says  a  chronicler  of  the 
sixteenth  century,  "  Wiis  engendered  so  ardent  a  desire 
to  know  the  way  of  salvation,  that  artizans,  carders, 
spinners,  and  combers,  employed  themselves,  while 
engaged  in  manual  labour,  in  conversing  on  the  Word 
of  God,  and  deriving  comfort  from  it.  In  particular, 
Sundays  and  festivals  were  employed  in  reading  the 
Scriptures,  and  inquiring  after  the  good-will  of  the 
Lord." 

Brifonnet  was  delighted  at  seeing  piety  thus  substi- 
tuted for  superstition  in  his  diocese.  "  Lefe^Te,  aided 
by  the  reputation  of  his  great  learning,"  says  a  con- 
temporary historian,  "  was  able,  by  his  plausible  dis- 
course, so  to  cajole  and  circumvent  master  William 
Bri^onnet  as  to  have  him  entirely  devoted  to  him,  so 
much  so  that  it  has  never  since  been  possible  to  purge 
the  tOTvn  and  diocese  of  Meaux  of  this  mischievous 
doctrine,  even  to  this  day,  where  it  has  marvellously 


increased.  It  is  a  great  pity  that  this  good  bishop, 
who,  till  then,  had  been  so  devoted  to  God  and  the 
Virgin  Mary,  should  have  been  so  perverted." 

Still  all  were  not  so  entirely  devoted  as  the  Francis- 
can, whom  we  have  just  (pioted,  represents.  The 
town  was  divided  into  two  j)arties.  On  the  one  side 
were  the  monks  of  St.  Francis  and  the  friends  of  the 
Romish  doctrine ;  on  tiie  other,  Brifonnet,  Lefevre, 
Farel,  and  all  who  loved  the  new  doctrine.  An  indi- 
vidual in  ordinary  life,  named  Leclci'c,  was  one  of  the 
most  servile  adlicrcnts  of  the  monks ;  but  his  wife  and 
two  sons,  Peter  and  John,  had  eagerly  received  the 
Gospel.  John,  who  was  a  carder  of  w^ool,  soon  dis- 
tinguished himself  among  the  new  Christians.  James 
Pavanne,  a  young  scholar  of  Picardy,  "a  man  of 
great  sincerity,"  whom  Bri(;onnet  had  attracted  to 
Mcaux,  shewed  great  zeal  for  the  Reformation.  Meaiix 
had  become  a  focus  of  light.  Persons  who  had  occa- 
sion to  visit  it  often  heard  the  Gospel,  and  brought  it 
back  to  their  homes.  The  Holy  Scriptures  were 
searched,  not  in  the  town  only,  but  also,  says  a  chroni- 
cler, "  several  of  the  villagers  did  likewise,  so  that  that 
diocese  began  to  exliibit  au  image  of  the  renovated 
Church." 

The  environs  of  Meaux  being  covered  with  rich 
crops  at  the  season  of  harvest,  great  numbers  of 
labourers  flocked  to  it  from  the  surrounding  countries. 
AVhen  reposing  at  noon  from  their  fatigues,  they  con- 
versed with  the  inhabitants  of  the  district,  who  spoke 
to  them  of  other  crops  and  other  harvests.  Several 
peasants  from  Thieraclie,  and  especially  from  Landouzy, 
after  they  returned  home,  persevered  in  the  doctrines 
Avliich  they  had  heard,  and  shortly  after  there  was 
formed  in  that  place  an  evangelical  church,  which  is 
one  of  the  oldest  in  the  kingdom.  "  The  fame  of  this 
great  boon  circulated  over  France,"  says  the  chronicler. 
Brifonuet  himself  preached  the  Gospel  from  the  pulpit, 
and  endeavoured  everywhere  to  disseminate  what  he 
calls  "that  infinite,  sweet,  cheerful,  true,  and  only 
light,  which  dazzles  and  illumines  evei'y  creature  who 
receives  it,  and  which,  in  illuminating,  dignifies  him 
with  the  filial  adoption  of  God."  He  prayed  his  flock 
not  to  lend  an  ear  to  those  who  wished  to  turn  them 
aside  from  the  Word.  "Even,"  said  he,  "should  an 
angel  from  heaven  preach  any  other  Gospel  unto  you, 
do  not  listen  to  him."  Sometimes  he  was  seized  with 
melancholy  thoughts.  He  was  not  sure  of  himself. 
He  recoiled  in  dismay  when  thinking  of  the  fatal 
effects  which  might  result  from  his  unfaithfulness,  and 
forewarning  his  people,  said  to  them :  "  Should  even 
I,  yoiu:  bishop,  change  ray  discourse  and  doctrine,  do 
you  beware  of  changing  with  me."  At  the  time  no- 
thing gave  intimation  of  such  a  disaster.  "Not  only 
was  the  Word  of  God  preached,"  says  the  chronicler, 
"  it  was  practised ;  all  works  of  charity  and  love  were 
practised,  manners  were  reformed,  and  superstitions 
brought  into  disrepute." 

Always  full  of  the  idea  of  gaining  the  king  and  his 
mother,  the  bishop  sent  to  Margaret  "  the  Epistles  of 
St.  Paul,  translated  and  magnificently  illuminated," 
begging  her  very  humbly  to  present  it  to  the  king, 
"  This  from  your  hands,"  added  he,  "  cannot  but  be 
agreeable.  It  is  a  royal  dish,"  continued  the  good 
bishop,  "  nourishing  without  corrupting,  and  cuiing  all 


376 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


diseases.  Tlie  more  we  taste  it,  the  more  we  hunger 
for  it,  with  iincloying  and  insatiable  appetite." 

"What  dearer  message  could  Margaret  receive  ?  .  . 
She  thought  the  moment  favourable.  Michael  d'Arande 
was  at  Paris,  detained  by  command  of  the  queen 
mother,  for  whom  he  was  translating  portions  of  the 
Holy  Scriptures,"  But  Margaret  would  liave  wished 
Brifonnet  himself  to  present  St.  Paul  to  her  brother, 
and  wrote  to  him :  "  You  would  do  well  to  come  here, 
for  you  know  the  confidence  which  the  king  and  she 
place  in  you." 

Thus  the  Word  of  God  was  at  this  time  (1522,  1523) 
jjlaced  under  the  eyes  of  Francis  I.  and  Louisa  of 
Savoy.  They  were  brought  into  contact  with  that 
Gospel  which  they  were  at  a  later  period  to  persecute. 
It  does  not  appear  that  the  Word  made  any  salutary 
impression  upon  them.  The  Bible  was  then  making 
much  noise,  and  a  feeling  of  curiosity  made  them  open 
it ;  but  it  was  no  sooner  opened  than  shut. 

Margaret  herself  had  difficulty  in  struggling  with 
the  worldliness  which  surrounded  her  on  every  side. 
Her  affection  for  her  brother,  the  obedience  which  she 
owed  to  her  mother,  and  the  flattery  which  she  received 
at  court,  all  seemed  to  conspire  against  the  love  which 
she  had  vowed  to  Jesus  Christ.  Christ  was  single 
against  a  number.  The  soul  of  Margaret,  assailed  by 
so  many  foes,  and  stunned  by  the  noise  of  the  world, 
sometimes  turned  aside  from  its  Lord.  Then,  recognis- 
ing her  fault,  the  princess  shut  herself  up  in  her  cham- 
ber, and  giving  herself  up  to  grief,  sent  forth  sounds 
very  different  from  those  jovial  strains  with  which 
Francis  and  the  young  nobility,  associated  in  his  de- 
baucheries and  festivities,  caused  the  palace  to  resound. 

"  Left  you  I  have  my  pleasure  to  follow ; 
Left  you  I  have  for  a  choice  most  hollow ; 
Left  you  I  have— but,  ah !  whither  to  go? 
Away  where  nought  is  but  cursing  and  woe. 
Left  you  I  have,  a  friend  constant  and  true  ; 
And  then,  to  conceal  your  love  from  my  view, 
Have  leagued  with  all  that  is  hostile  to  you." 

Then  Margaret,  tm-ning  towards  Meaux,  wrote  in  her 
anguish  :  "  I  return  to  you,  to  M.  Fabry,  (Lefevre,)  and 
all  your  band,  begging  you  to  obtain  from  ineffable 
Mercy,  by  your  prayers,  an  awakening  for  a  poor 
drooping  slumbering  creature  .  .  .  from  her  deep 
and  deadly  Ictharg)'." 

Thus  Meaux  had  become  a  focus  of  light.  The 
friends  of  the  Reformation  gave  themselves  up  to  flat- 
tering illusions.  Who  could  oppose  the  Gospel  if  the 
power  of  Francis  I.  paved  the  way  for  iti  The  cor- 
rupting influence  of  the  court  would  then  be  changed 
into  a  holy  influence,  and  France  acquire  a  moral 
force  which  would  make  her  the  benefactress  of  the 
nations. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  friends  of  Rome  became 
alarmed.  Among  the  most  distinguished  of  those  at 
Meaux  was  a  Jacobin  monk  named  De  Roma.  One 
day  when  Lefevre,  Farel,  and  their  friends,  were  con- 
versing with  him  and  some  other  adherents  of  the 
papacy,  Lefevre  could  not  refrain  from  expressing  his 
hopes.  "The  Gospel,"  said  he,  "is  ah-eady  gaining 
the  hearts  of  the  grandees  and  people,  and  soon  diffus- 
ing itself  over  all  France,  it  will  everywhere  bring 
down  the  inventions  of  men."     The  old  doctor  had 


become  animated,  his  eyes,  which  had  become  dim, 
sparkled,  his  trembling  voice  was  again  full  toned. 
One  would  have  said  it  was  old  Simeon  thanking  the 
Lord  for  having  seen  His  salvation.  The  friends  of 
Lefevre  shared  his  emotion,  and  his  opponents  were 
dumb  with  astonishment.  .  .  .  All  at  once  De 
Roma  started  up,  and  with  the  voice  of  a  tribune  of 
the  people,  exclaimed:  "Then  I  and  all  the  other 
monks  will  preach  a  crusade :  we  will  stir  up  the  people ; 
and  if  the  king  permits  the  preaching  of  your  Gospel, 
we  will  make  his  own  subjects  chase  him  from  his  own 
kingdom." 

Thus  a  monk  dared  to  enter  the  lists  with  a  royal 
knight.  The  Franciscans  applauded  the  words.  The 
future  predicted  by  the  old  doctor  must  not  be  allowed 
to  be  realized.  Already  the  friars  are,  day  after  day, 
returning  with  diminished  alms.  The  alai-med  Francis- 
cans, spreading  themselves  among  families,  exclaimed: 
"  These  new  teachers  are  heretics ;  the  holiest  obser- 
vances they  attack,  the  most  sacred  mysteries  they 
deny!"  .  .  .  Then  becoming  more  emboldened, 
the  most  irritated  of  them  come  forth  from  their 
cloisters,  repair  to  the  episcopal  palace,  and  being 
admitted  to  the  presence  of  the  prelate,  exclaim : 
"Crush  this  heresy,  or  the  plague  which  already 
devastates  this  town  of  Meaux  will  soon  spread  over 
the  kingdom." 

Brifonnet  was  concerned,  and  for  a  moment  at  a 
loss  how  to  deal  with  this  attack ;  but  he  yielded  not ; 
he  had  too  much  contempt  for  these  coarse  monks  and 
their  selfish  clamour.  He  mounted  the  pulpit,  justified 
Lefe%Te,  and  called  the  monks  Pharisees  and  hypocrites. 
Still  this  opposition  produced  trouble  and  an  internal 
struggle  in  his  soul ;  he  tried  to  reassure  himself  by 
reflecting  that  these  spiritual  combats  were  necessary. 
"By  this  battle,"  said  he,  in  his  somewhat  mystical 
language,  "  we  reach  a  death,  quickening,  and,  at  the 
same  time,  mortifying  life ;  in  living,  we  die,  in  dying, 
we  live."  The  path  would  have  been  safer  if,  hasten- 
ing towards  the  Saviour,  like  the  apostles  when  tossed 
by  the  winds  and  waves,  he  had  exclaimed,  "  Master, 
save  us !  we  perish." 

The  monks  of  Meaux,  furious  at  being  repulsed  by 
the  bishop,  resolved  to  carry  their  complaints  to  a 
higher  quarter.  They  had  a  power  of  appeal.  If  the 
bishop  will  not  yield,  they  can  compel  him.  Their 
leaders  set  out  for  Paris,  and  came  to  an  understand- 
ing with  Beda  and  Duchesne.  They  hastened  to  the 
Parliament,  and  there  denounced  the  bishop  and  the 
heretical  teachers.  "  The  town,"  said  they,  "  and  the 
whole  neighbourhood,  are  affected  with  heresy;  and  it 
is  the  episcopal  palace  itself  that  sends  forth  the  pol- 
luted streams." 

Thus  the  cry  of  persecution  against  the  Gospel 
began  to  be  heard  in  France.  The  priestly  and  the 
civil  power,  the  Sorbonne  and  the  Parliament,  took 
up  arms — arms  that  were  to  be  dyed  in  blood. 
Christianity  had  taught  that  there  are  duties  and 
rights  anterior  to  all  civil  associations, — had  emanci- 
pated religious  thought,  founded  liberty  of  conscience, 
and  produced  a  great  revolution  in  society;  for  an- 
tiquity, which  saw  the  citizen  everywhere,  and  man 
nowhere,  had  made  religion  simply  an  affair  of  state. 
But  no  sooner  had  these  ideas  been  given  to  the  world 


BRICONNET  FALLS. 


377 


than  the  papacy  had  corrupted  them.  For  tlie  despot- 
ism of  the  prince,  it  had  substituted  tlio  despotism  of 
the  priest.  It  had  often  even  stirred  up  the  prince  and 
the  priest  against  tlic  Christian  people.  A  new  enianci- 
l)ation  was  required,  and  it  took  ph\ce  in  tlic  sixtociitii 
century.  In  all  places  where  tlie  Reformation  was 
established,  it  broke  the  yoke  of  Rome,  and  religious 
thought  was  again  set  free.  But  there  is  in  human 
nature  such  a  love  of  domineering  over  the  truth,  that 
among  many  Protestant  nations  the  Church,  disen- 
gaged from  the  arbitraiy  power  of  the  priest,  is  in 
our  days  on  the  point  of  again  falling  under  the  yoke 
of  the  civil  power,  and  doomed,  like  iu  ruler,  to  vibrate 
incessantly  between  these  two  despotisms, — to  pass, 
ever  and  anon,  from  Caiaphas  to  Pilate,  and  Pilate  to 
Caiaphas. 

Bricounet,  who  was  held  iu  high  estimation  at  Paris, 
easily  justified  himself;  but  it  was  iu  vain  he  sought  to 
defend  his  friends.  The  monks  were  not  willing  to 
return  to  Meaux  empty-handed.  If  the  bishop  is  to 
escape,  his  brethren  must  be  sacrificed.  Of  a  timid 
character,  not  much  disposed  to  abandon  his  riches 
and  his  rank  for  Jesus  Christ,  already  alarmed  and 
filled  with  sadness,  false  counsels  led  him  still  farther 
astray.  It  was  suggested  to  him,  that  if  the  evan- 
gelical doctors  quitted  Meaux,  they  could  carry  the 
Reformation  elsewhere.  An  agonizing  struggle  took 
place  in  his  heart.  At  length  worldly  prudence  pre- 
vailed ;  he  yielded,  and  on  the  12th  April,  1526.  issued 
an  iujimction,  depriving  these  pious  teachers  of  liberty 
to  preach.     This  was  liri<,'onnet's  first  fall. 

Lefevre  was  the  person  principally  aimed  at.  His 
commentary  on  the  four  Gospels,  and  especially  his 
'•  Epistle  to  Christian  Readers,"  which  preceded  it,  had 
increased  the  rage  of  Beda  and  his  baud.  They  de- 
nounced the  work  to  the  faculty.  "  Does  he  not  pre- 
sume," said  the  blustering  syndic,  "to  recommend  the 
reading  of  the  Holy  Scriptm-es  to  all  the  faithful  ? 
Do  we  not  read  in  it  that  whoso  loves  not  the  Word  of 
Christ  is  not  a  Christian ;  and  that  the  Word  of  God 
is  sufficient  for  eternal  life?" 

In  this  accusation  Francis  I.  saw  only  a  cabal  of 
theologians.  He  named  a  commission,  and  Lefevre, 
having  justified  himself  before  it,  came  off  from  the 
attack  with  the  honours  of  war. 

Farel,  who  had  fewer  protectors  at  court,  was  ob- 
liged to  quit  Meaux.  It  appears  that  he  at  first  re- 
paired to  Paris,  and  that,  having  attacked  the  errors 
of  Rome  without  reserve,  he  could  no  longer  remain, 
but  was  obliged  to  retire  into  Dauphiny,  whither  his 
heart  was  bent  on  carrying  the  Gospel. 


CHAPTER  VIU. 

Lofcvre  and  Farcl  Persecuted— Difference  between  the  Lutheran  and  Re- 
formed Churches — Leclerc  puts  up  his  Pancartcs — Leclerc  Branded — 
Zeal  of  Berquin — Berquin  before  the  Parhament— Francis  I.  saves  him 
— Apostacy  of  Mazurier— Fall  and  Grief  of  Pavanne— Metz— Chatelain  - 
Peter  Toussaint  becomes  attentive— Leclerc  breaks  Images— Condemna- 
tion and  Torture  of  Lcclcro— MartjTdom  of  Chatelain— Flight. 

Lefevbe   intimidated,  BriQonnet  beginning  to  back- 
slide, Farel  constrained  to  fly! — this  was  a  first  victory. 


The  Sorbonne  already  thought  themselves  masters  of 
the  movement.  The  doctors  and  monks  were  con- 
gi-atulating  themselves  on  their  triumph.  This,  how- 
ever, was  not  enough :  blood  had  not  flowed.  They 
accordingly  set  to  work,  and  blood — since  blood  it 
must  have — was  soon  to  gratify  the  fanaticism  of 
Rome. 

Tiie  evangelical  Christians  of  Meaux,  seeing  their 
leaders  dispersed,  soiiglit  mutually  to  edify  each  other. 
John  Leclerc,  a  carder  of  wool,  whom  the  discourses 
of  the  teachers,  the  reading  of  the  Bible,  and  of  several 
religious  books,  had  instructed  in  Christian  doctrine, 
was  distinguished  by  his  zeal  and  his  readiness  in  ex- 
pounding Scripture.  He  was  one  of  those  men  whom 
the  Spirit  of  God  fills  with  courage,  and  soon  places 
at  the  head  of  a  religious  movement.  The  church  of 
Meaux  was  not  long  in  regarding  him  as  its  pastor. 

The  idea  of  an  universal  priesthood, — an  idea  to 
which  the  first  Christians  were  so  much  alive, — had 
been  restored  in  the  sixteenth  century  by  Luther. 
But  this  idea  seemed  then  to  remain  theoretical  in  the 
Lutheran  church,  and  became  a  living  reality  only  in 
the  Reformed  cluu'ches.  The  Lutheran  churches — and 
in  this  they  agi-ee  with  the  Anglican  Church — seemed 
to  hold  a  middle  place  between  the  Church  of  Rome 
and  the  Reformed  Church.  Among  the  Lutherans 
everything  proceeded  from  the  pastor  or  the  priest ; 
and  nothing  was  good  in  the  Church  that  did  not  come 
organically  through  its  heads.  But  the  Reformed 
churches,  while  holding  the  Divine  institution  of  the 
ministry,  which  some  sects  overlook,  approximated 
nearer  to  the  primitive  condition  of  the  apostolic  com- 
munities. From  the  period  of  which  we  speak,  they 
recognised  and  proclaimed,  that  Christian  flocks  were 
not  simply  to  receive  what  the  priest  gives ;  that  the 
members  of  the  Church,  as  well  as  its  leaders,  possess 
the  key  of  the  treasury  from  which  these  draw  their 
instructions,  since  the  Bible  is  in  the  hands  of  all ; 
that  the  grace  of  God,  the  spirit  of  faith,  wisdom,  con- 
solation, and  light,  are  not  given  to  the  pastor  merely; 
that  each  is  called  to  use  the  gift  which  he  has  re- 
ceived for  the  comiii'in  ailvaiit;i;..'c  ;  that  often  even  a 
certain  gift,  uece^faiy  f. ir  tin;  •■.liiication  of  the  Church, 
may  be  refused  to  tlir  miiii-trr  and  granted  to  a  mem- 
ber of  his  flock.  Thuj  tin.-  pjij.sive  state  of  the  churches 
was  exchanged  for  a  state  of  general  activity.  It  was 
in  France  especially  that  this  revolution  was  accom- 
plished. In  other  countries  the  Reformers  are  almost 
without  exception  pastors  and  doctors  ;  but  in  France 
the  men  of  learning  are  iu  close  union  with  the  men  of 
the  people.  There  God  takes  for  his  first  workmen  a 
doctor  of  the  Sorbonne  and  a  carder  of  wool. 

Carder  Leclerc  now  began  to  go  from  house  to  house 
confirming  the  disciples.  But  not  stopping  at  these 
ordinary  labours,  he  wished  to  see  the  edifice  of  the 
papacy  crumbling  to  pieces,  and  F'rance,  from  amid  its 
ruins,  turning  with  a  shout  of  joy  towards  the  Gospel. 
His  somewhat  immoderate  zeal  reminds  us  of  that  of 
Hottinger  at  Zurich,  and  Carlstadt  at  Wittemberg. 
He  accordingly  drew  up  a  proclamation  against  the 
Antichrist  of  Rome,  in  which  he  announced  that  the 
Lord  was  about  to  destroy  it  by  the  breath  of  His 
mouth.  Then  he  boldly  posted  up  his  "  Pancartes " 
on  the  very  gate  of  the  cathedral.     Forthwith  all  was 


378 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


coufusion  around  the  aucieut  odilioe.  The  faithful 
•were  astonished,  the  priests  enraged.  "What!  a  man 
emplo3-ed  in  carding  wool  to  attack  tlie  pope  ?  .  .  . 
The  Franciscans  were  beside  themselves,  and  demanded 
that  this  once,  at  least,  a  di-eadful  example  should  be 
made.     Leclerc  was  thrown  into  prison. 

His  trial  was  concluded  in  a  few  days,  under  the 
very  eyes  of  Briconuet,  who  was  obliged  to  see  and 
endure  it  all.  The  carder  was  condemned  to  be  beateu 
with  rods  three  days  in  succession  through  the  streets  of 
the  town,  and  then  branded  on  the  forehead.  Shortly 
after,  this  sad  spectacle  was  exhibited.  Leclerc,  with 
his  hands  tied  and  back  bare,  was  led  through  the 
streets,  and  the  executioners  let  fall  upon  his  body 
those  blows  which  he  had  brought  upon  himself  by 
attacking  the  Bishop  of  Rome.  An  immense  crowd 
followed  the  processiou,  the  com-se  of  which  might 
have  been  traced  by  the  blood  of  the  martyr.  Some 
uttered  cries  of  rage  against  the  heretic ;  others,  by 
their  silence  even,  gave  him  unequivocal  marks  of 
their  tender  compassion ;  a  female,  with  eye  and 
tongue,  encouraged  the  poor  sufferer:  it  was  his 
mother. 

At  length,  on  the  third  day,  after  the  bloody  proces- 
sion was  linished,  Leclerc  was  taken  to  the  ordinary 
place  of  esecution.  The  executioner  jsrepared  the  fire, 
heated  the  iron,  the  impress  of  which  was  to  be  burnt 
into  the  evangelist,  and  approaching  him,  branded  him 
in  the  forehead  as  a  heretic.  A  cry  was  heard,  but  it 
proceeded  not  from  the  martyr.  His  mother,  who  was 
present  at  the  frightful  spectacle,  torn  with  grief,  had 
a  violent  struggle  within  herself.  The  enthusiasm  of 
faith  was  struggling  in  her  heart  with  the  love  of  the 
mother,  and  she  exclaimed,  iu  a  voice  which  made  all 
her  adversaries  tremble :  '-Live  Jesus  Christ  and  His 
ministers !"  Thus  this  French  woman  of  the  sixteenth 
century  fulfilled  the  command  of  the  Son  of  God :  He 
ic/io  loves  son  more  than  me,  is  not  wortliy  of  me.  Such 
boldness  at  such  a  moment  deserved  exemplary  punish- 
ment ;  but  the  Christian  mother  had  filled  the  priests 
and  soldiers  with  amazement.  All  theu-  fury  was 
restrained  by  an  arm  more  powei-ful  than  their  own. 
The  crowd,  giving  way  with  respect,  allowed  the 
mother  of  the  martyr,  with  lingering  pace,  to  regain 
her  humble  dwelling.  Even  the  monks  and  town- 
officers  stood  motionless  as  she  passed.  "Not  one  of 
her  enemies,"  says  Beza,  "  dared  to  lay  a  hand  upon 
her."  Leclerc  having  been  released,  retired  to  Eosay 
iu  Brie,  a  small  town  six  leagues  from  Meaux,  and 
afterwards  repaired  to  Metz,  where  we  shall  again 
meet  with  him. 

The  enemy  triumphed.  "The  Cordeliers  having 
reconquered  the  pulpit,  scattered  about  their  lies  and 
siUy  tales  as  usual."  Ijut  the  poor  mechanics  of  the 
town,  deprived  of  the  hearing  of  the  Word  at  regular 
meetings,  "  began  to  assemble  in  secret,"  says  our 
chronicler,  "  after  the  example  of  the  sons  of  the  pro- 
phets, in  the  time  of  Ahab,  and  the  Cliristians  of  the 
primitive  Church ;  and  according  as  opportunity  offered, 
met  one  day  in  a  house,  and  another  day  in  some  cave, 
or  occasionally,  also,  in  a  vineyard  or  forest.  Then  he 
of  their  number  who  was  best  read  in  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures, exhorted  them.  This  done,  they  prayed  toge- 
gether  with  great  courage,  supporting  themselves  with 


the  hope  that  tlie  Gospel  would  be  received  in  France, 
and  tliat  the  tyranny  of  Antichrist  would  come  to  an 
end."     No  power  is  capable  of  arresting  the  truth. 

Still,  one  victim  was  not  suihcient.  The  first  victim 
of  persecution  was  a  worker  in  wool ;  the  second  was 
a  gentleman  of  the  court.  It  was  necessary  to  strike 
terror  into  the  nobles  as  well  as  the  people.  The 
doctors  of  the  Sorbonne  at  Paris  were  not  the  persons 
to  allow  themselves  to  be  outstripped  by  the  Francis- 
cans of  Meaux.  Berquin,  "  the  most  learned  of  the 
nobles,"  had  continued  to  gain  new  courage  from  the 
Scriptures,  and  after  attacking  "  the  hornets  of  the 
Sorbonne  "  in  some  epigrams,  had  opeuly  accused  theui 
of  impiety. 

Beda  and  Duchesne,  who  had  not  ventm-ed  to  reply 
in  their  usual  style  to  the  witty  sallies  of  a  gentleman 
of  the  king,  changed  their  view  of  the  matter  as  soon 
as  they  discovered  that  these  attacks  were  backed  by 
serious  convictions.  Berquin  had  become  a  Christian, 
and  his  destruction  was  resolved.  Beda  and  Duchesne, 
having  seized  some  of  his  translations,  found  matter  in 
them  sutficieut  to  burn  more  than  one  heretic.  "  He 
maintains,"  said  they,  "  that  it  is  unbecoming  to  invoke 
the  Virgin  in  place  of  the  Holy  Spii'it,  and  to  call  her 
the  source  of  all  grace.  He  attacks  the  custom  of 
calling  her  our  hope,  our  life;  and  says  that  these  titles 
are  applicable  only  to  the  Son  of  God."  There  wiis 
more  than  this.  Berquin's  study  was  like  a  book- 
seller's shop,  from  which  corrupting  books  were  circu- 
lated all  over  the  kingdom.  In  particular,  the  "  Com- 
mon Places "  of  Melaucthon,  written  with  so  much 
elegance,  made  a  deep  impression  on  the  literati  of 
France.  The  pious  gentleman,  living  only  amid  folio 
volumes  and  tracts,  had,  from  Christian  charity,  become 
a  translator,  corrector,  printer,  and  bookseller.  .  .  . 
It  was  necessary  to  arrest  this  formidable  torrent  at  its 
very  source. 

Accordingly,  one  day  when  Berquin  was  quietly  at 
his  studies  in  the  midst  of  his  beloved  books,  his  house 
was  suddenly  surrounded  by  armed  police,  who  knocked 
violently  at  the  gate.  It  was  the  Sorbonne  and  its 
agents,  who,  fortified  with  the  authority  of  the  parlia- 
ment, came  to  pay  him  a  domiciliary  visit.  Beda,  the 
formidable  syndic,  was  at  their  head ;  and  never  did 
inquistor  better  fulfil  his  duty :  he  made  his  way  with 
his  satellites  into  the  library  of  Berquin,  declared  the 
mission  with  which  he  said  he  was  enti'usted,  and 
ordering  his  people  to  have  an  eye  upon  Berquin,  com- 
menced his  search.  Not  a  book  escaped  his  piercing 
glance ;  and  by  his  orders  an  exact  inventory  of  the 
whole  was  taken.  Here,  a  treatise  of  Melancthou; 
there,  a  writing  of  Carlstadt !  Here,  heretical  books 
translated  from  Latin  into  French  by  Berquin  ;  there, 
others  of  his  own  composition.  AU  the  works  whicli 
Beda  seized,  with  the  exception  of  two,  were  filled  with 
Lutheran  errors.  He  left  the  house  with  his  booty, 
more  elated  than  ever  general  was  with  the  spoils  of 
conquered  nations.  Berquiu  saw  that  a  violent  storm 
was  about  to  burst  upon  his  head;  but  his  courage 
failed  not.  He  despised  his  adversaries  too  much  to 
fear  them.  Meanwhile,  Beda  lost  no  time.  On  the 
13th  May,  1523,  the  parliament  issued  a  decree,  bear- 
ing that  all  the  books  seized  at  the  house  of  Berquin 
should  be  submitted  to  the  theological  faculty.     The 


BERQUIN  BEFORE  THE  PARLIAMENT. 


379 


opinion  of  the  compnny  was  not  long  ilelaycd.  On  the 
25th  June  tliey  condemned  tiie  works  to  tiie  fire  as 
heretical,  witii  the  exception  of  the  two  wliich  we 
have  mentioned,  and  ordered  Bcniuin  to  abjure  his 
errors.     The  parliament  sanctioned  the  decision. 

The  gentleman  ajjpcared  before  this  formidable  body, 
lie  knew  that  a  scaffold  was  probably  behind ;  but  like 
Luther  at  Womis,  he  stood  lirni.  In  vain  did  the 
parliament  order  him  to  recant.  Bcrquin  was  not  one 
of  those  v/ho  fall  awaij  after  being  made  partakers  of  the 
IIoli)  Gli'ist.  lie  who  is  beijotteii  of  God  keepeth  himself 
ami  that  wicked  one  toiwhetk  him  not,  (Hebrews  vi.  4; 
1  John  V.  18.)  Every  fall  proves  that  the  conversion 
was  only  apparent  or  partial.  The  conversion  of  Ber- 
(luiii  was  real.  He  answered  lirndy  to  the  court  before 
which  he  appeared.  The  parliament,  more  severe  than 
the  Diet  of  Worms  had  been,  ordered  its  officers  to 
apprehend  the  accused,  and  carry  him  to  the  Concier- 
gerie.  This  was  on  tlie  1st  August,  1523.  On  the 
oth  August  the  parliament  remitted  the  heretic  into 
the  hands  of  the  Bishop  of  Paris,  in  order  that  this 
prelate  might  take  cognisance  of  the  affair,  and  assisted 
by  doctoi-s  and  councillors,  pronounce  duo  sentence  on 
the  culprit.  He  was  transferred  to  the  prison  of  the 
officiality. 

Thus  Berquin  passed  from  tribunal  to  tribunal,  from 
prison  to  prison.  Beda,  Duchesne,  and  their  company, 
kept  hold  of  their  victim ;  but  the  court  had  always  a 
grudge  at  the  Sorbouue,  and  Francis  was  more  power- 
ful than  Beda.  There  was  a  feeling  of  indignation 
among  the  nobility.  Did  these  monks  and  priests  for- 
got what  the  sword  of  a  gentleman  was  worth  ?  "  Of 
what  is  he  accused?"  said  they  to  Francis.  "For 
blaming  the  custom  of  invoking  the  Holy  Spirit .'  But 
Erasmus  and  many  others  also  blame  this.  And  for 
such  triHes  must  an  officer  of  the  king  be  put  in  prison? 
The  blow  is  aimed  at  letters,  true  religion,  the  nobility, 
chivalry,  the  very  crown."  The  king  was  pleased  once 
more  to  provoke  an  outcry  from  all  the  company.  He 
gave  letters  of  liberation  to  the  council,  and  on  the 
Sth  August  an  officer  presented  himself  at  the  prison  of 
the  officiality  bearing  an  order  from  the  king  to  set 
Berquin  at  liberty. 

It  was  a  question  whether  the  monks  would  yield. 
Francis,  who  had  foreseen  that  some  difficulty  might  be 
made,  had  said  to  the  officer  entrusted  with  his  orders  : 
'•  If  you  meet  with  resistance,  I  authorize  you  to  break 
open  the  door."  These  words  were  clear.  The  monks 
and  the  Sorbonne  yielded,  swallowing  the  affront ;  and 
Berquin,  set  at  liberty,  appeared  before  the  king's 
council,  and  was  acquitted.  Thus  Francis  had  humbled 
tlie  Church.  Berquin  imagined  that  under  his  reign 
France  might  be  emancipated  from  the  pajjacy,  and  had 
thoughts  of  renewing  tlie  war.  With  this  view  he 
entered  into  correspondence  with  Erasmus,  who  imme- 
diately recognised  in  him  a  good  man.  But  "  remem- 
ber," said  the  philosopher,  who  was  always  timid  and 
temporizing,  "that  it  is  imnecessary  to  provoke  the 
hornets;  peacefully  enjoy  your  studies.  Above  all, 
do  not  mix  me  up  with  your  affair;  that  would  uot 
be  useful  either  to  me  or  to  you." 

This  refusal  did  not  discourage  Berquin :  if  the 
most  powerful  genius  of  the  age  withdraws,  he  will 
trust  in  God,  who  never  fails.     The  work  of  God  is  to 


be  done  with  men,  or  without  them.  "Berquin,"  says 
Erasmus  himself,  "  was  somewhat  like  the  palm  tree ; 
he  stood  up,  and  shewed  a  bold  front  to  whosoever 
sought  to  temfy  him." 

This  was  uot  the  case  with  all  who  had  received  the 
Gospel  doctrine.  Martial  Mazurier  had  been  one  of 
the  most  zealous  preachers.  He  was  charged  with 
having  preached  very  erroneous  doctrines,  and  even 
with  having  committed  certain  acts  of  violence  while 
he  was  at  Meaux.  "  This  Mai-tial  Mazurier,  being  at 
Mcaux,"  says  a  manuscript  of  this  town,  which  we 
have  already  quoted,  "going  to  the  church  of  the 
reverend  fathers,  the  Cordeliers,  and  seeing  the  statue 
of  St.  Francis  standing  at  the  outside  of  the  door  of 
the  convent,  where  at  present  a  St.  Roche  is  placed, 
threw  it  down  and  broke  it."  Mazm'ier  was  seized, 
and  sent  to  prison,  when  he  suddenly  fell  into  profound 
reveries,  and  deep  anguish.  It  w;us  the  morality  rather 
than  the  doctrine  of  the  Gospel,  tliat  had  drawn  him 
into  the  ranks  of  the  reformers ;  and  morality  left  him 
without  strength.  TeiTified  at  the  scaffold  which 
.iwaited  him,  thinking  that  in  France  the  victory  would 
be  decidedly  in  favour  of  the  Romish  party,  he  easily 
convinced  himself  that  he  should  gain  more  influence 
and  honour  by  returning  to  the  papacy.  He  there- 
fore recanted,  and  caused  doctrines  to  be  preached  in 
his  parish  the  opposite  of  those  which  he  was  accused 
of  having  taught :  at  a  later  period  connecting  himself 
with  the  most  fanatical  doctors,  and  in  particular  with 
the  celebrated  Ignatius  Loyola,  he  shewed  himself  one 
of  the  most  ardent  supporters  of  the  papal  cause.  From 
the  days  of  the  Emperor  Julian,  apostates,  after  their 
faitUessness,  have  always  proved  the  most  pitiless 
enemies  of  the  doctrines  which  they  had  for  a  time 
professed. 

Mazurier  soon  found  an  opportunity  of  exercising  his 
zeal.  Young  James  Pavanne  liad  also  been  cast  into 
prison.  Martial  hoped  that  by  causing  his  fall  he 
might  hide  his  own.  The  youth,  amiable  manners, 
learning,  and  integrity  of  Pavanne,  excited  a  strong 
interest  in  his  favour,  and  Mazurier  imagined  that  he 
would  himself  be  less  guilty  if  he  could  drag  Master 
James  into  similar  guUt,  He  repaired  to  his  dungeon, 
and  began  his  manceuvres.  He  pretended  to  have  gone 
farther  than  he  in  the  knowledge  of  the  truth.  "  You 
err,  James,"  he  often  repeated  to  him ;  "  you  have  not 
seen  the  bottom  of  the  sea ;  you  know  only  the  sur- 
face of  the  waves  and  billows."  Sophisms,  promises, 
threats,  nothing  was  spared.  The  unhappy  youth, 
seduced,  agitated,  shaken,  at  last  yielded  to  these  per- 
fidious attacks,  and  publicly  recanted  his  pretended 
errors  the  day  after  Christmas,  1524.  But  from  that 
time  a  spirit  of  despondency  and  grief  from  the  Al- 
mighty was  upon  Pavanne.  His  sighs  were  incessant. 
"Ah!"  repeated  he,  "nothing  remains  to  me  but  a  life 
of  bitterness."     Sad  reward  of  faithlessness  ! 

There  were,  however,  among  them  who  received  the 
Word  of  God  in  France,  men  of  a  more  intrepid  spu-it 
than  Pavanne  and  Mazurier.  Towards  the  end  of 
1523,  Leclerc  had  quitted  Metz  and  gone  into  Lorraine, 
where,  says  Theodore  Beza,  he  had  followed  the 
example  of  St.  Paul  at  Corinth,  who,  while  making 
tents,  persuaded  both  Jews  and  Greeks.  Leclerc, 
while  following  his  trade  of  wool-carder,  taught  the 


HISTORY  OF  THE  EEFORMATION. 


people  of  his  own  class.  Several  among  them  had 
been  truly  converted.  Thus  this  humble  artizan  laid 
the  foundations  of  a  church  which  afterwards  became 
celebrated. 

Leclerc  was  not  alone  at  Metz.  Among  the  ecclesi- 
astics of  the  town  was  an  Augustine  monk  of  Touruay, 
a  doctor  of  theology,  named  John  Chatelain,  who  had 
been  brought  to  the  knowledge  of  God  by  his  inter- 
course with  the  Augustines  of  Antwerp.  Chatelain  had 
gained  the  respect  of  the  people  by  the  austerity  of 
his  manners ;  and  the  doctrine  of  Christ,  preached  by 
him  in  his  chasuble  and  stole,  had  appeared  to  those 
inhabitants  of  Metz  less  strange  than  when  it  came  to 
them  from  the  poor  artizan,  who  quitted  the  comb  with 
which  he  was  carding  wool  to  explain  a  translation  of 
the  Gospel  in  French. 


Evangelical  light — thanks  to  the  zeal  of  these  two 
men — was  beginning  to  be  diffused  throughout  the 
town.  A  very  devout  female,  of  the  name  of  Tous- 
saint,  of  burgher  parentage,  had  a  son  called  Peter,  to 
whom,  when  amusing  himself  beside  her,  she  often 
addressed  grave  words.  Evei-y\N'here,  at  this  time, 
even  in  the  houses  of  the  citizens,  something  extra- 
ordinary was  expected.  One  day  the  child,  occupying 
himself  with  the  diversions  of  his  age,  was  riding 
through  his  mother's  room  on  a  long  staff.  She  was 
conversing  with  some  friends  on  religious  matters,  and 
said  to  them  with  emotion :  "  Antichrist  will  soon  come 
in  great  power,  and  destroy  those  who  shall  have  been 
converted  by  the  preaching  of  Elias."  These  words, 
which  were  often  repeated,  struck  the  child,  who  called 
them  to  mind  at  a  later  period.  Peter  Toussaint  was 
full-grown  at  the  time  when  the  doctor  of  theology  and 
the  wool-carder  were  preaching  the  Gospel  at  Metz. 
His  parents  and  friends,  astonished  at  his  youthful 
genius,  hoped  to  see  him  one  day  occupying  a  distin- 
guished place  in  the  Church.  One  of  his  uncles,  his 
father's  brother,  was  primicier  of  Metz.  This  was 
the  first  dignity  in  the  chapter.  Cardinal  John  of 
Lorrain,  son  of  Duke  Eene,  who  had  a  large  establish- 
ment, had  a  great  love  for  the  uncle  and  nephew.  The 
latter,  notwithstanding  of  his  youth,  had  just  obtained 


a  canonicate,  when  he  began  to  give  attention  to  the 
Gospel.  Might  it  not  be  that  the  preaching  of  Chate- 
lain and  Leclerc  was  that  of  Elias  ?  Already,  indeed. 
Antichrist  was  everywhere  arming  against  it.  But 
what  then?  "Let  us,"  said  he,  "lift  our  heads  toward 
the  Lord,  who  will  come  and  will  not  tarry." 

The  Gospel  doctrine  made  its  way  into  the  first 
families  of  Metz.  A  person  of  considerable  rank,  the 
Chevalier  d'Esch,  an  intimate  friend  of  the  primicier, 
had  just  been  converted.  The  friends  of  the  Gospel 
wore  delighted.  "The  knight,  our  good  master," 
.  repeated  Peter;  "if,  however,"  added  he, 
with  a  noble  candour,  "  it  is  lawful  to  have  a  master 
on  earth." 

Thus  Metz  was  on  the  eve  of  becoming  a  focus  of 
light  when  the  imprudent  zeal  of   Leclerc  suddenly 
arrested  its  slow  but  sure  progress,  and  raised 
a  storm  which  well-nigh  ruined   this  rising 
Church.    The  great  body  of  the  lower  classes 
-  continued  to  practise  their  old  superstitions, 

and  Leclerc's  heart  was  grieved  when  he  saw 
,  the  city  given  up  to  idolatry.    A  great  festival 

was  at  hand.  About  a  league  from  the  town 
was  a  chapel  containing  images  of  the  Virgin, 
and  the  most  celebrated  saints  of  the  country, 
and  to  whom,  on  a  certain  day,  all  the  inhabi- 
tants of  Metz  were  accustomed  to  make  a 
pOgrimage,  in  order  to  worship  the  images, 
and  obtain  the  pardon  of  their  sins. 

Tlie  eve  of  the  festival  having  arrived,  the 
]Hnus  and  intrepid  soul  of  Leclerc  was  vio- 
lently agitated.  Has  not  God  said,  Tkou 
shah  not  boio  down  to  their  gods,  nor  serre  them, 
nor  do  after  their  ivorh ;  but  thou  shcdt  utterhj 
overthroio  them,  and  quite  break  down  their 
images?  Leclerc  thought  that  this  com- 
mand of  God  was  addressed  to  him,  and, 
without  consulting  either  Chatelain  or  Esch, 
or  any  of  those  who  he  might  have  suspected  would 
oppose  his  scheme,  in  the  evening,  at  night-fall,  he 
went  out  of  the  town,  and  repaired  to  the  chapel. 
There,  seated  in  solemu  silence  beside  these  statues, 
he  spent  some  time  in  meditation.  He  might,  indeed, 
flee  away ;  but  .  .  .  to-morrow,  within  a  few 
hours,  a  whole  city,  bound  to  worship  God  only,  would 
be  prostrated  before  these  blocks  of  wood  and  stone. 
A  struggle,  similar  to  that  which  so  often  took  place 
in  the  breasts  of  the  primitive  Christians,  now  took 
place  in  the  soul  of  the  wool-carder.  What  matters  it 
that  these  images  are  those  of  male  and  female  saints, 
and  not  those  of  the  gods  and  goddesses  of  Paganism? 
Does  not  the  worship  which  the  people  pay  to  these 
images  belong  to  God  only?  Like  Polyeucte  beside 
the  idols  of  the  temple,  his  heart  shudders  and  his 
courage  is  inflamed : 

Ke  perdons  plus  de  tcnis,  Ic  sacrifice  est  pret, 

AUons-y  du  vrai  Dieu  soutenir  Tint^ret ; 

AUons  fouler  aux  pieds  ce  foudre  ridicule, 

Dont  arme  un  bois  pourri  ce  peuple  trop  credule ; 

AUons  en  iciairer  I'aveuglement  fatal, 

AUons  brisei*  ces  dieux  de  pierre  et  ih  m^tal ; 

Abandonnons  nos  jours  i  cette  ardeur  celeste, 

Faisons  triompher  Dieu    .     .     .     qu'il  dispose  du  reste. 

In  fact,  Leclerc  stands  up,  approaches  the  images,  lifts 


MARTYRDOM  OF  LECLERG  AND  CHATELAIN. 


them,  breaks  them,  and  indignantly  scatters  the  frag- 
ments before  tlie  altar.  He  doubted  not  tliat  it  was 
the  Spirit  of  tlic  Lord  which  inspired  him  to  do  so, 
and  Bcza  is  of  the  same  opinion.  After  this  Leclerc 
returned  to  Metz,  which  he  re-entered  at  daybreak, 
being  perceived  by  some  persons  at  the  moment  when 
he  was  going  through  the  gate  of  the  town. 

Meanwhile  everything  was  in  motion  in  the  ancient 
city.  The  bells  were  ringing,  the  trades  assembled, 
and  the  whole  town,  headed  by  the  canons,  the  priests, 
and  the  monks,  went  out  in  procession,  repeating 
])raycrs  and  singing  hymns  to  the  saints  whom  tliey 
were  going  to  worship,  witli  crosses  and  banners  in 
full  display,  while  instruments  of  music  responded  to 
the  chant  of  the  faithfid.  At  length,  after  walking 
more  than  an  hour,  the  procession  reached  the  place 
of  pilgrimage.  But  what  was  the  astonishment  of  the 
pi-iests  when,  presenting  themselves  with  the  censer  in 
tlieir  hand,  they  see  the  images  which  they  came  to  wor- 
ship mutilated,  and  their  remains  strewing  the  ground ! 
They  start  back  in  dismay,  and  i)ublicly  announce  the  act 
of  sacrilege.  All  at  once  the  hymns  cease,  the  instru- 
ments are  mute,  the  colours  arc  lowered,  and  the  whole 
multitude  are  indescribably  agitated.  The  canons, 
curates,  and  monks,  strive  to  inflame  the  minds  of  the 
people,  urging  them  to  make  a  search  for  the  culprit, 
and  demand  his  death.  The  cry  is  heard  froni  all 
sides :  "  Death,  death  to  the  perpetator  of  the  sacri- 
lege ! "  They  return  to  Metz  precipitately  and  with- 
out order. 

Leclerc  was  known  to  all :  he  had  repeatedly  called 
images  idols.  Besides,  had  he  not  been  seen  at  day- 
break on  his  way  back  from  the  chapel  ?  Being  appre- 
hended, he  immediately  confessed  the  crime,  and  urged 
the  people  to  worship  God  only.  But  this  language 
increased  the  fury  of  the  multitude,  who  would  on  tlio 
instant  have  dragged  him  to  death.  When  taken  lie- 
fore  the  judges,  he  boldly  declared  that  Jesus  Christ, 
God  manifest  in  the  flesh,  ought  alone  to  be  worshipped. 
He  was  condemned  to  be  burnt  alive,  and  was  led  off 
to  the  place  of  execution. 

Here  a  dreadful  scene  awaited  him.  The  cruelty  of 
his  persecutors  prepared  everything  that  could  add  to 
the  horrors  of  his  execution.  Near  the  scaffold  they 
were  heating  pincers  to  minister  to  their  rage.  Leclerc, 
calm  and  firm,  stood  unmoved  amid  the  savage  yells  of 
the  monks  and  people.  They  began  by  cutting  off  his 
right  thumb ;  then,  seizing  the  hot  pincers,  they  pulled 
off  his  nose ;  then,  still  using  the  same  instrument,  they 
laid  liold  of  both  his  arms,  and  after  breaking  them  in 
several  places,  seized  him  by  the  breast.  While  the 
cruelty  of  his  enemies  was  thus  venting  itself  upon  his 
body,  his  mind  was  at  peace.  Solemnly,  and  with  loud 
voice,  he  repeated  the  words  of  David:  Their  idols  are 
silver  and  gold,,  the  tvork  of  men's  hand.  They  have 
mouths,  but  they  speak  not;  eyes  have  they,  hit  they  see 
not.  They  have  ears,  but  they  hear  Tiot ;  noses  have  they, 
but  they  smell  not.  They  have  hands,  but  they  handle  not, 
neither  speak  they  throtiyh  their  throat.  They  that  make 
them  are  like  unto  them ;  so  is  every  one  that  trusteth  in 
them.  0  Israel,  trust  thou  in  the  Lord:  He  is  their  help 
and  their  shield,  (Psalm  cxv.  4-9.)  His  enemies,  on 
seeing  such  strength  of  soul,  were  amazed,  while  be- 
lievers felt  strengthened.     The  people  who  had  mani- 


fested so  much  rage,  were  astonished  and  moved. 
After  these  tortures,  Leclerc  was  burnt  at  a  slow 
fire,  as  his  sentence  bore.  Such  was  the  death  of  the 
first  martyr  for  the  Gospel  in  France. 

But  the  priests  of  Metz  were  not  satisfied,  In  vain 
had  they  tried  to  shake  Chatelain.  "  He  is  deaf  like 
the  adder,"  they  said,  '•  and  refuses  to  hear  the  truth." 
He  was  seized  by  the  people  of  the  Cardinal  of  Lor- 
raine, and  carried  to  tlic  castle  of  Nommeny. 

There  he  was  degraded  by  the  oificials  of  the  bishop, 
who  took  off  his  vestments,  and  scratched  his  finger 
with  a  bit  of  glass,  saying :  "  By  this  scratching  wo 
deprive  you  of  the  power  of  sacrificing,  consecrating, 
and  blessing,  which  you  received  by  the  laying  on  of 
hands."  Afterwards,  putting  a  layman's  dress  upon 
him,  they  remitted  him  to  the  secular  power,  which 
condemned  him  to  be  burnt  alive.  The  pile  was  soon 
prepared,  and  the  minister  of  Christ  was  consumed  by 
the  flames.  "  Lutheranism,  nevertheless,  spreads  in  all 
the  district  of  Metz,"  say  the  authors  of  the  history 
of  the  Galilean  Church,  while  approving  greatly  of 
these  severities. 

From  the  moment  the  storm  had  burst  upon  the 
Church  of  Metz,  there  was  great  distress  in  the  house 
of  Toussaint.  His  uncle,  the  primicier,  without  taking 
any  active  part  in  the  persecutions  of  Leclerc  and 
Chatelain,  shuddered  when  he  thought  of  his  nephew 
belonging  to  these  people.  The  alarm  of  his  mother 
was  greater  still.  There  was  not  a  moment  to  be  lost ; 
all  who  had  lent  an  ear  to  the  Gospel  were  threatened 
in  their  liberty  and  their  life.  The  blood  the  inquisi- 
tors had  shed  only  increased  their  thirst,  and  new 
scaffolds  were  about  to  be  erected.  Peter  Toussaint, 
the  Chevalier  d'Esch,  aud  several  others,  quitted  Metz 
in  all  haste,  and  took  refuge  in  Bfde. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Favel  .ind  his  Brothers— Farel  driven  trom  Gap— He  Preaches  in  the  Fields 
—Chevalier  Anemond  of  Coot— The  Minorite— Anemond  quits  France- 
Luther  to  the  Duke  of  Savoy— Farel  quits  France. 

Thcs  the  storm  of  persecution  raged  at  Meaux  and  at 
Metz.  The  north  of  France  repudiated  the  God,  and 
for  a  time  the  Gospel  withdrew.  But  the  Reforma- 
tion only  changed  its  place; — the  south-eastern  pro- 
vinces became  the  theatre  of  it. 

Farel,  who  had  taken  refuge  at  the  foot  of  the  Alps, 
there  displayed  great  activity.  To  him  it  was  a  small 
matter  to  enjoy  domestic  happiness  in  the  bosom  of  his 
family.  The  rumour  of  what  had  taken  place  at  Meaux 
and  at  Paris  had  inspired  his  brothers  with  a  kind  of 
terror;  but  an  unknown  power  attracted  them  to 
the  new  and  unknown  truths  with  which  William  en- 
tertained them.  With  the  impetuosity  of  his  zeal  he 
urged  them  to  be  converted  to  the  Gospel ;  and  David, 
Walter,  and  Claude,  were  at  length  gained  to  the  God 
whom  their  brother  preached.  They  did  not  at  the 
first  moment  abandon  the  worship  of  their  ancestors ; 
but  when  persecution  arose  they  boldly  sacrificed 
friends,  goods,  and  country,  for  liberty  to  worship 
Jesus  Chi-ist. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


The  brothers  of  Luther  and  Zwingle  appear  not  to 
have  been  as  decidedly  converted  to  the  Gospel.  The 
French  Keformation  had,  from  the  beginning,  a  more 
friendly  and  domestic  character. 

Farel  did  not  confine  himself  to  his  brothers;  he 
announced  the  truth  to  his  relatives  and  friends  at 
Gap,  and  in  its  neighbourhood.  It  would  even  appear, 
if  wo  can  credit  a  manuscript,  that,  availing  himself  of 
the  friendship  of  certain  ecclesiastics,  he  preached  the 
Gospel  in  several  churches ;  but  other  authorities  as- 
sure us  that  at  this  time  he  did  not  mount  the  pulpit. 
Be  this  as  it  may,  the  doctrine  which  he  professed 
made  a  great  noise.  The  multitude  and  the  clergy 
wished  to  put  him  to  silence.  "A  new  and  strange 
heresy!  "  said  they  "  Can  it  be  that  all  pious  observ- 
ances are  vain '!  He  is  neither  monk  nor  priest.  He 
has  no  right  to  act  the  preacher." 

All  the  civil  and  ecclesiastical  powers  of  Gap  were 
soon  united  against  Farel.  He  was  evidently  an  agent 
of  the  sect  which  was  everywhere  spoken  against.  '"Let 
us,"  it  wag  said,  "cast  far  from  ns  this  firebrand  of 
discord."  Farel  was  summoned  to  appear,  treated 
harshly,  and  violently  banished  from  the  town. 

He  did  not,  however,  abandon  his  native  district, 
Did  not  the  fields,  the  villages,  and  the  banks  of  the 
Durance,  the  Guisauue,  and  the  Isere,  contain  many 
souls  which  had  need  of  the  Gospel?  And  if  he  there 
ran  some  risk  of  danger,  did  not  those  forests,  and 
caves,  and  steep  rocks,  which  he  had  so  often  visited 
in  his  youth,  offer  him  an  asylum?  He  began  to  go 
up  and  down  the  country,  preaching  in  houses  and 
amid  lonely  pastures,  taking  shelter  in  woods  and  on 
the  brinks  of  torrents.  It  was  a  school  in  which  God 
was  training  him  for  other  labours.  "  Crosses,  perse- 
cutions, and  the  machinations  of  Satan,  of  which  I  had 
been  forewarned,  have  not  been  wanting,"  said  he ; 
"  they  are  far  too  strong  for  me  to  withstand  them ;  but 
God  is  my  Father ;  He  has  furnished,  and  will  furnish, 
me  with  all  the  strength  I  require."  A  great  number 
of  the  inhabitants  of  these  districts  received  the  truth 
from  his  mouth.  Thus  the  persecution  which  had 
dri\en  Farel  from  Paris  and  from  Meaux,  spread  the 
Reformation  throughout  the  provinces  of  the  Saone, 
the  Rhone,  and  the  Alps.  In  all  ages  this  Scripture  is 
fulfilled  .  Therefore  they  that  ii-erc  scattered  abroad  irciit 
everywhere  preaching  the  Woixl. 

Among  the  French  who  were  then  gained  to  the 
Gospel,  was  a  gentleman  of  Dauphiny,  Chevalier 
Auemond  of  Coct,  a  younger  son  of  auditor  do  Coct, 
lord  of  Chatelard.  Quick,  ardent,  easily  moved, 
pious-hearted,  an  enemy  of  relics,  processions,  and  the 
clergy,  Anemond  received  the  evangelical  doctrine  with 
great  readiness,  and  soon  was  entirely  devoted  to  it. 
He  could  not  endure  forms  in  religion,  and  would 
willingly  have  abolished  all  the  ceremonies  of  the 
Church.  To  him  the  religion  of  the  heart,  internal 
adoration,  alone  was  true.  "Never,"  said  he,  "has 
my  spirit  found  any  rest  in  externals.  A  summary  of 
Christianity  is  contained  in  these  words :  John  bajj- 
ticed  tvith  watej;  but  you  will  be  baptized  ivith  the  Holy 
Spirit:  there  must  be  a  new  creature. 

Coct,  who  had  all  the  vivacity  of  a  Frenchman, 
spoke  and  wrote  sometimes  in  Latin,  and  sometimes  in 
French.     He  read  and  quoted  the  "  Donat,"  Thomas 


Aquinas,  Juvenal,  and  the  Bible.  He  spoke  in  short 
sentences,  and  passed  abruptly  from  one  idea  to  an- 
other. Always  in  motion,  wherever  a  door  appeared 
open  to  the  Gospel,  or  a  celebrated  doctor  was  to  be 
heard,  there  he  was  to  be  found.  By  his  warm-heart- 
edness he  gained  the  love  of  all  with  whom  he  was 
brought  into  connection.  "  He  is  a  man  of  distin- 
guished truth  and  learning,"  said  Zwingle  at  a  later 
period;  "  but  he  is  still  more  distinguished  for  his  piety 
and  aifability."  Anemond  is  a  kind  of  type  of  many 
Frenchmen  of  the  Reformation.  Vivacity,  simplicity, 
zeal  amounting  to  imprudence,  such  were  some  of  the 
characteristics  of  his  countrymen  who  embraced  the 
Gospel.  In  the  other  extreme  of  the  French  character 
we  find  the  grave  figure  of  Calvin,  who  forms  a  strik- 
ing contrast  to  the  fickleness  of  Coct.  Calvin  and 
Anemond  are  the  two  opposite  poles,  between  which 
all  the  religious  world  in  France  vibrates. 

No  sooner  had  Anemond  been  instructed  by  Farel 
in  the  knowledge  of  Jesus  Christ,  than  he  himself 
sought  to  gain  souls  to  this  doctrine  of  spirit  and  life. 
His  father  was  dead :  his  elder  brother,  of  a  harsh  and 
haughty  temper,  repulsed  him  with  disdain.  Laurence, 
the  youngest  of  the  family,  and  who  had  a  great  affec- 
tion for  him,  seemed  only  partially  to  comprehend  him. 
Anemond,  seeing  himself  repulsed  by  his  own  family, 
turned  his  activity  elsewhere. 

Till  now,  the  revival  of  Dauphiny  had  been  con- 
fined to  laymen.  Farel,  Anemond,  and  their  friends, 
longed  to  see  a  priest  at  the  head  of  the  movement. 
At  Grenoble  there  was  a  curate,  a  minorite,  named 
Peter  de  Sebville,  an  eloquent  preacher,  and  an  honest 
good-hearted  man,  who  consulted  not  with  flesh  and 
blood,  and  whom  God  was  gradually  drawing  to  him- 
self. Sebville  soon  perceived  that  there  was  no  in- 
fallible teacher  but  the  Word  of  God ;  and  abandoning 
doctrines  supported  only  by  human  testimony,  resolved 
in  spirit  to  preach  the  Word  "  clearly,  purely,  holily." 
These  three  words  express  the  whole  Reformation. 
Coct  and  Farel  were  delighted  when  they  heard  this 
new  preacher  of  grace  raise  his  eloquent  voice  in  their 
province,  and  they  thought  that  their  presence  would 
thenceforth  be  less  necessary. 

The  more  the  revival  extended,  the  more  violent  the 
opposition  became.  Anemond,  desirous  to  know 
Luther  and  Zwingle,  and  the  countries  in  which  the 
Reformation  had  commenced,  and  indignant  at  seeing 
the  truth  repulsed  by  his  fellow-citizens,  resolved  to 
bid  adieu  to  his  country  and  his  family.  Hav'ng  made 
a  will,  disposing  of  his  property — which  was  then  in 
possession  of  his  eldest  brother,  lord  of  Chatelard — 
in  favour  of  his  brother  Laurence,  he  quitted  Dauphiny 
and  France,  and  hastening,  with  his  usual  impetuosity, 
from  the  south,  over  countries  then  ditficult  to  pass,  he 
crossed  Switzerland,  and  scarcely  stopping  at  Bale, 
arrived  at  Wittemberg  beside  Luther.  This  was  shortly 
after  the  second  Diet  of  Nuremberg.  The  French 
gentleman  accosted  the  Saxon  doctor  with  his  ordinary 
vivacity.  He  spoke  enthusiastically  of  the  Gospel,  and 
with  earnestness  explained  the  plans  which  he  had 
formed  for  the  propagation  of  the  truth.  Saxon 
gravity  smiled  at  the  southern  imagination  of  the 
knight,  and  Luther,  though  he  had  some  prejudices 
against  the  French  character,  was  won  and  carried 


ANEMOND  AND  LUTHER. 


383 


nwiiy  by  Aiicniond.  lie  wiis  moved  to  think  how  this 
geiitlomiin  ImJ  come  for  tiic  Gospel  from  France  to 
Wittcmberg.  "  Of  a  surety,"  said  the  Reformer  to  his 
friends,  *'  tliis  French  knight  is  an  excellent,  learned, 
and  pious  man."  The  young  gentleman  produced  the 
same  impression  on  Zwingle  and  Luther. 

Anemoud,  seeing  what  Luther  and  Zwinglo  had  done, 
thought  that  if  they  would  take  possession  of  France 
and  Saxony,  nothing  could  resist  them ;  and  hence, 
when  he  could  not  persuade  them  to  go  thither,  he 
urged  them  to  consent  at  least  to  write.  In  particular, 
he  begged  Luther  to  address  a  letter  to  Duke  Charles 
of  Savoy,  brother  of  Louisa  and  Philiberta,  uncle  of 
Francis  L  and  Margaret.  "  This  prince,"  said  he  to 
the  doctor,  "  takes  a  great  interest  in  piety  and  true 
religion,  and  likes  to  talk  of  the  Reformation  with  some 
j)ersons  of  his  court.  He  is  litted  to  coiiiprehend  you, 
for  his  motto  is,  '■Nihil  tkest  timeniiltus  Deiim.'  This 
motto  is  also  yours.  Struck  at  alternately  by  the 
empire  and  by  France;  humbled,  grieved,  always  in 
danger,  his  heai't  is  in  want  of  God  and  His  grace. 
All  he  requires  is  a  powerful  impulse.  Were  he  gained 
to  the  Gospel,  he  would  have  an  immense  influence 
over  Switzerland,  Savoy,  and  Franco.  Do  write 
liim." 

Luther  was  wholly  German,  and  would  have  found 
himself  ill  at  ease  out  of  Germany.  Still,  animated  by 
a  truly  catholic  spirit,  he  gave  his  hand  as  soon  as  he 
saw  brethren ;  wherever  tiiere  was  a  word  to  be  deli- 
liverod,  he  took  care  to  have  it  heard.  Occasionally 
he  wrote  on  the  same  day  to  the  extremities  of  Europe, 
the  Low  Countries,  Savoy,  and  Livonia. 

"  Certainly,"  replied  he  to  Auemond's  request,  "  the 
love  of  the  Gospel  in  a  prince  is  a  rare  gift,  and  an  in- 
estimable jewel."  He  addressed  a  letter  to  the  duke, 
which  was  probably  carried  by  Anemond  as  far  as 
Switzerland. 

"  Will  your  highness  pardon  mo,"  wrote  Luther,  "  if 
I,  a  humble  and  despised  individual,  dare  to  address 
you  ?  or  rather,  will  your  highness  be  pleased  to  impute 
this  boldness  to  the  glory  of  the  Gospel?  For  I  can- 
not see  this  splendid  luminary  rise  and  shine  in  any 
quarter  without  exulting  with  joy.  .  .  My  desire 
is,  that  my  Lord  Jesus  may  win  many  souls  by  the 
example  of  your  most  serene  highness.  Wherefore  I 
wish  to  tell  you  of  our  doctrine.     .  .     We  believe 

that  the  commencement  of  salvation,  and  the  sum  of 
Cin-istianity,  is  faith  iu  Christ,  who,  by  His  blood 
alone,  and  not  by  our  works,  has  expiated  sin,  and 
destroyed  the  dominion  of  death.  AVe  believe  that 
this  faith  is  a  gift  of  God,  and  that  it  is  created  by  the 
Holy  Spirit  in  our  hearts,  and  not  found  by  our  own 
exertion.  For  faith  is  a  living  thing,  which  begets 
mau  spiritually,  and  makes  him  a  new  creature." 

Luther  next  proceeded  to  the  consequences  of  faith, 
and  shewed  how  we  cannot  possess  it  unless  the  scaf- 
folding of  false  doctrines  and  human  works  which  the 
Church  had  so  laboriously  reared,  were  forthwith  thrown 
down.  "  If  grace,"  said  he,  "  is  gained  by  the  blood 
of  Christ,  it  is  not  by  our  own  works.  Wherefore  all 
works  and  cloisters  are  useless;  and  these  institutions 
must  be  abolished,  as  being  against  the  blood  of  Jesus 
Christ,  and  leading  men  to  confide  in  their  own  works. 
Incorporated  with  Jesus  Christ,  it  now  only  remains 


for  us  to  do  that  which  is  good,  because,  having  become 
good  trees,  we  ought  to  testify  it  by  good  fruits. 

''  Gracious  lord  and  prince,"  says  Luther,  in  conclud- 
ing, "  may  your  highness,  who  has  begun  so  well,  con- 
tinue to  spread  this  doctrine,  not  by  the  power  of  the 
sword,  which  would  do  harm  to  the  Gospel,  but  by 
calling  into  your  states  teachers  who  preach  the  Word. 
It  is  by  the  breath  of  His  mouth  that  Jesus  will 
destroy  Antichrist,  iu  order  that,  as  Daniel  expresses 
it,  lie  may  'be  broken  without  hand,'  (Dan.  viii.  25.) 
Therefore,  most  serene  prince,  may  your  highness 
revive  the  spark  which  has  begun  to  burn  in  you. 
IMay  a  fire  come  forth  from  the  house  of  Savoy,  as  of 
old  from  the  house  of  Joseph.  May  all  France  be  as 
stubble  before  the  fire :  may  it  burn,  and  crackle,  and 
purify,  so  that  this  illustrious  kingdom  may  bear  iu 
truth  tlie  name  of  most  Christian  kiiiydoin,  which  till 
this  hour  it  owes  only  to  the  torrents  of  blood  shed  ia 
the  service  of  Antichrist !" 

Such  was  Luther's  effort  to  spread  the  Gospel  in 
France.  It  is  not  known  what  effect  the  letter  pro- 
duced upon  the  prince ;  but  it  does  not  appear  that  he 
ever  shoA\'ed  any  desire  to  detach  himself  from  Rome. 
In  1522,  he  prayed  Adi'ian  VI.  to  be  godfather  to  his 
first  son ;  and  at  a  later  period  the  pope  promised  the 
second  a  cardinal's  hat.  Ancniond,  after  attempting 
to  see  the  court  and  Elector  of  Saxony,  for  which 
purpose  he  had  received  a  letter  from  Luther,  returned 
to  Bale  more  determined  than  ever  to  sacrifice  his  life 
for  the  Gospel.  In  his  ardour  he  wished  he  were 
able  to  shake  all  France.  "All  that  I  am,"  said  he, 
"  and  all  that  I  shall  be ;  all  that  I  have,  and  all  that 
I  shall  have,  I  wish  to  devote  to  the  glory  of  God." 

At  Bale  Anemoud  found  his  countryman  Farel. 
Auemond's  letters  had  produced  in  him  an  eager  desire 
to  see  the  reformers  of  Switzerland  and  Germany. 
Farel,  moreover,  required  a  sphere  of  activity,  in 
which  he  could  more  freely  display  his  powers.  He, 
therefore,  quitted  that  France  which  had  nothing  but 
scaffolds  to  give  to  the  preachers  of  the  pure  Gospel. 
Taking  byroads,  and  concealing  himself  iu  the  woods, 
he  succeeded,  though  with  ditliculty,  in  escaping  the 
hands  of  his  enemies.  He  frequently  lost  his  way. 
"  By  my  powerlessness  in  these  petty  things,"  saitli 
he,  "  God  means  to  teach  me  what  my  powerlessness 
is  iu  great  things."  At  length,  iu  the  beginning  of 
1524,  he  arrived  in  Switzerland.  It  was  here  he  was 
to  spend  his  life  in  the  service  of  the  Gospel ;  and  it 
was  at  this  time  that  France  began  to  send  into  Hel- 
vetia those  generous  evangelists  who  were  to  establish 
the  Reformation  iu  Romane  Switzerland,  and  give  it  a 
new  and  powerful  impulse  throughout  the  confedera- 
tion and  the  whole  world. 


CHAPTER  X. 

Catholicity  of  the  Reformation— Friendship  of  Farel  and  (Ecolampadius— 
Farel  and  Erasmus— Altercation— Farel  calls  for  a  Discussion- Theses 
— Scripture  and  Faith— Discussion. 

A  FIXE  feature  in  the  Reformation  is  its  catholicity. 
Germans  come  into  Switzerland — Frenchmen  go  into 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


Germany — at  a  later  period  EuglishmeQ  and  Scotch- 
men repair  to  the  Continent,  and  teachers  from  the 
Continent  to  Great  Britain.  Tlie  Reformation  of  the 
different  countries  began  almost  independently  of  each 
other ;  but  no  sooner  do  they  begin  than  they  shake 
hands.  There  is  but  one  faith,  one  Spirit,  one  Lord. 
I  think  it  was  not  well  done  hitherto  to  write  the  his- 
toi-y  of  the  Reformation  only  for  one  country.  The 
work  is  one,  and  Protestant  churches,  from  their  origin, 
form  one  body,  Jitb/ joined  together,  (Ephes.  iv.  IC.) 

At  this  time  a  French  church,  saved  from  the  scaf- 
fold, was  formed  at  Bale  by  several  refugees  from 
France  and  Lorraine.  They  had  spoken  about  Lefevre, 
Farel,  and  the  events  at  Meaux;  and  hence,  when  Farel 
arrived  in  Switzerland,  he  was  already  known  as  one 
of  the  most  devoted  champions  of  the  Gospel. 

He  was  immediately  introduced  to  CEcolampadius, 
who  had  been  for  some  time  returned  to  Bale.  Seldom 
have  two  more  opposite  characters  met.  Qicolam- 
padius  charmed  by  his  mildness,  Farel  carried  away 
by  his  impetuosity;  but  from  the  first  moment  these 
two  men  felt  united  for  ever.  It  was  the  second 
union  of  a  Luther  and  a  Melancthon.  CEcolampadius 
received  Farel  into  his  house,  gave  him  a  modest 
chamber,  a  frugal  table,  and  introduced  him  to  his 
friends.  The  learning,  piety,  and  courage  of  the  young 
Frenchman  soon  won  all  hearts.  Pellican,  Imeli, 
Wolfhard,  and  other  ministers  of  Bale,  felt  strength- 
ened in  the  faith  by  his  energetic  discourses.  CEcolam- 
padius was  at  this  time  in  very  low  spirits.  "Alas!" 
said  he  to  Zwingle,  "  I  speak  in  vain,  and  see  not  the 
least  ground  for  hope.  Perhaps  I  should  have  had 
more  success  among  the  Turks."  .  .  "Ah!"  added 
he,  with  a  deep  sigh,  "I  blame  nobody  but  myself" 
But  the  more  he  saw  of  Farel  the  more  his  heart 
revived,  and  the  courage  which  was  thus  imparted  to 
him  became  the  basis  of  an  imperishable  affection. 
"  Oh,  my  dear  Farel !"  said  he  to  him,  "  I  hope  the 
Lord  will  make  our  friendship  immortal !  and  if  we 
cannot  be  united  here  below,  our  joy  will  only  be  the 
greater  when  we  meet  beside  the  Saviour  in  heaven." 
Pious  and  touching  thoughts!  The  arrival  of  Farel 
was  evidently  assistance  sent  to  Switzerland  from  above. 

But  while  this  Frenchman  was  delighted  with 
CEcolampadius,  he  recoiled  coldly,  and  with  a  noble 
disdain,  from  a  man  at  whose  feet  all  the  nations  of 
Christendom  did  homage.  The  prince  of  scholars, — 
he  from  whom  a  word  and  a  look  were  objects  of 
ambition, — the  master  of  the  age,  Erasmus,  was  dis- 
regarded by  Farel.  The  young  man  from  Dauphiny 
had  refused  to  go  and  do  homage  to  the  old  sage  of 
Rotterdam,  because  he  despised  the  men  who  are  never 
more  than  half-way  on  the  side  of  truth,  and  who, 
while  aware  of  the  dangers  of  error,  are  full  of  defer- 
ence for  those  who  propagate  it.  Thus  in  Farel  was 
seen  that  decision  which  became  one  of  the  distinguish- 
ing characteristics  of  the  Reformation  in  France  and 
French  Switzerland,  and  which  has  sometimes  been 
stigmatized  as  rudeness,  exclusiveness,  intolerance.  A 
discussion  had  taken  place  in  regard  to  the  commen- 
taries of  Lefevre,  between  the  two  greatest  doctors  of 
the  period,  and  there  never  was  a  party  where  those 
present  did  not  either  take  part  with  Erasmus  against 
Lefevre,  or  for  Lefevre  against  Erasmus.     Farel  had 


not  hesitated  to  take  part  with  his  master.  But  what 
had  especially  excited  his  indignation  was  the  cowardice 
of  the  philosopher  of  Rotterdam  in  regard  to  evangeli- 
cal Christians.  Erasmus  shut  his  door  against  them. 
Very  well.  Farel  won't  knock  at  it.  This  cost  him 
but  a  small  sacrifice,  convinced,  as  he  was,  that  Eras- 
mus wanted  the  basis  of  all  true  theology — piety  of 
heart.  "The  wife  of  Frobenius,"  he  said,  "has  more 
theology  than  ho."  Indignant  at  Erasmus  for  having 
written  to  the  pope,  stating  how  he  ought  to  proceed 
in  order  "  to  extinguish  the  fire  raised  by  Luther,"  he 
declared  loudly  that  Erasmus  wished  to  stifle  the 
Gospel. 

Young  Farel's  independence  irritated  the  illustrious 
scholar.  Princes,  kings,  doctors,  bishops,  popes,  re- 
formers, priests,  men  of  the  world,  all  considered 
themselves  happy  in  coming  to  pay  him  their  tribute 
of  admiration.  Luther  himself  had  shewed  some  def- 
erence for  his  person,  and  this  exiled  stranger  from 
Dauphiny  presumed  to  brave  his  power.  This  insolent 
freedom  gave  more  chagrin  to  Erasmus  than  the 
homage  of  the  whole  world  gave  him  joy.  Accord- 
ingly, he  omitted  no  opportunity  of  discharging  his 
bad  humour  at  Farel ;  besides,  in  attacking  so  decided 
a  heretic,  he  washed  himself,  in  the  eyes  of  the  Roman 
Catholics,  of  the  suspicion  of  heresy.  "Never,"  said 
he,  "  have  I  seen  a  more  false,  virulent,  and  seditious 
man.  His  heart  is  full  of  vanity,  his  tongue  full  of 
malice."  But  the  wrath  of  Erasmus  did  not  stop  at 
Farel :  it  broke  out  against  all  the  French  refugees  at 
Bille,  whose  frankness  and  decision  had  annoyed  him. 
They  shewed  that  they  had  little  respect  of  persons. 
When  the  truth  was  not  frankly  professed,  they  cared 
little  for  the  man,  how  great  soever  his  genius  might 
be.  They,  perhaps,  wanted  somewhat  of  the  mild 
temper  of  the  Gospel ;  but  their  fidelity  had  in  it  some- 
thing of  the  strength  of  the  old  prophets.  We  love  to 
meet  with  men  who  refuse  to  bend  to  what  the  world 
worships.  Erasmus,  astonished  at  this  proud  disdain, 
complained  to  everybody.  Writing  to  Melancthon,  he 
says:  "What!  shall  we  reject  pontiffs,  and  bishops, 
only  to  have  more  cruel  tyrants,  scabbed  madmen,  for 
such  France  has  sent  us  ?"  "  Some  Frenchmen,"  wrote 
he  to  the  pope's  secretary,  in  presenting  him  with  his 
book  on  "Free  Will,"  "are  still  madder  than  the  Ger- 
mans themselves.  They  have  always  in  their  mouths 
these  five  words — Gospel,  Word  of  God,  Faith,  Christ, 
Holy  Spirit ;  and  yet  I  doubt  not  it  is  the  spirit  of 
Satan  that  impels  them."  Instead  of  Farellus  he  often 
wrote  Fallicus,  thus  designating  one  of  the  frankest 
men  of  his  age  by  tlie  epithet  of  cheat  or  deceiver. 

The  spu"it  and  wrath  of  Erasmus  were  at  their 
height,  when  he  was  told  that  Farel  had  called  him  a 
Balaam.  Farel  thought  that  Erasmus,  like  that  pro- 
phet, allowed  himself,  perhaps  without  knowing  it,  to 
be  seduced  by  presents  to  speak  against  the  people  of 
God.  The  learned  Dutchman,  unable  to  contain  him- 
self, resolved  to  call  the  audacious  Frenchman  to 
account;  and  one  day,  when  Farel  was  talking  on 
Christian  doctrine  with  several  friends,  Erasmus, 
bluntly  interrupting  him,  said :  "  Why  do  you  call  me 
Balaam '?"  Farel,  astonished  at  first  at  the  bluntness  of 
the  question,  soon  recovered  himself,  and  replied,  that 
it  was  not  he  who  had  so  called  him."    Pressed  to  name 


FAREL'S  THESES. 


the  culprit,  he  mentioned  Du  Blet  of  Lyons,  like 
himself  a  refugee  at  Bale.  "  It  may  be  he  is  the 
person  who  said  it,"  replied  Erasmus ;  '•  but  it  was  you 
who  taught  him  to  say  it."  Then,  ashamed  at  having 
lost  his  temper,  he  quickly  turned  the  conversation. 
"  Why,"  said  he  to  Fare!,  "  do  you  maintain  that  the 
saints  are  not  to  be  invoked  ?  Is  it  because  the  Holy 
Scriptures  do  not  command  it?" — '"Yes,"  said  the 
Frenchman.  "  Very  well,"  replied  the  scholar,  "  I 
challenge  you  to  prove  by  Scripture  that  it  is  necessary 
to  pray  to  the  Holy  Spirit."  Farel  made  this  simple 
and  true  reply  :  "  If  He  is  God  He  must  be  invoked." 
"I  left  off  the  discussion,"  says  Erasmus,  "for  it  was 
drawing  to  niglit."  Thenceforth  every  time  that  tiie 
name  of  Farel  came  imder  his  pen,  it  was  to  reproach 
him  as  a  hateful  being,  to  be  shunned  at  all  hazards. 
The  letters  of  the  reformer,  on  the  contrary,  are  full 
of  moderation  in  regard  to  Erasmus.  Even  in  the 
hottest  temperament,  tlie  Gospel  is  milder  than  philo- 
sophy. 

At  Biilo  the  reformed  doctrine  had  already  _  — ^ 
many  friends  in  the  council  and  among  the 
people ;  but  the  professors  of  the  imiversity 
combated  it  with  all  their  might.  Q'lcolam- 
padius  and  Stoi\  pastor  of  Liestal,  had  main- 
tained tiiesos  against  them.  Farel  thought  it 
his  duty  in  Switzerland  also  to  make  a  public 
profession  of  the  great  principle  of  the  evan- 
gelical school  of  Paris  and  Meaux — the  siitji- 
ciency  of  the  Word  of  God.  He  asked  [.  r- 
mission  of  the  university  to  maintain  tin  ~  -, 
"rather,"  he  added  modestly,  "that  I  ni;iy  1m 
corrected  if  I  am  wrong,  than  to  teach  otli.  i  -. 
The  university  refused. 

Farel  then  addressed  the  council ;  am 
council    announced,   that   a    Christian 
named  William  Farel,  Imving,  by  the  i 
ration  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  prepared   ce 
articles  conformable  to  the  Gospel,   permis- 
sion was  given  him  to  maintain  them  in  Latin.     The 
university  prohibited   every  priest   and   student  from 
appearing  at  this  discussion  ;  but  the  council  issued  a 
contrary  order. 

The  following  are  some  of  the  thirteen  propositions 
which  Farel  posted  up  : — 

"  Christ  has  given  us  the  most  perfect  rule  of  life  : 
no  man  is  entitled  to  take  from  it  or  to  add  to  it. 

"To  be  guided  by  other  precepts  than  those  of 
Christ,  leads  directly  to  impiety. 

"  The  true  ministry  of  priests  is  to  devote  themselves 
to  the  administration  of  the  Word :  they  have  no 
higher  office. 

"  To  deprive  the  glad  tidings  of  Christ  of  their  cer- 
taint)',  is  to  destroy  them. 

"  He  who  hopes  to  be  justified  by  his  own  power 
and  his  own  merits,  erects  liimself  into  a  God. 

"Jesus  Christ,  whom  all  things  obey,  is  our  polar 
star,  and  the  sole  star  which  we  ought  to  follow." 

Tluis  this  '•  Frenchman  "  presented  himself  at  Bille. 
A  mountaineer  of  Dauphiny,  brought  up  in  Paris  at 
the  feet  of  Lefevre,  came  to  this  celebrated  university 
of  Switzerland,  under  the  eye  of  Erasmus,  and  boldly 
expounded  the  great  principles  of  the  lieformatiou. 
Two  ideas  were  contained  in  Farel's  theses.     The  one 


was,  the  duty  of  returning  to  the  Holy  Scriptures ;  the 
other,  the  duty  of  returning  to  faith  .  two  things  which 
the  papacy,  in  the  famous  bull  of  Unigenitus,  at  the 
beginning  of  the  eighteenth  century,  has  decidedly  con- 
demned as  heretical  and  impious ;  and  which,  closely 
connected  with  each  other,  in  fact  overturn  the  system 
of  the  papacy.  If  faith  in  Christ  is  the  beginning  and 
end  of  Christianity,  it  is  to  the  Word  of  Christ  wo 
must  attach  ourselves,  and  not  to  that  of  the  Church. 
More  than  this  :  if  faith  unites  souls,  where  is  the 
necessity  for  an  external  bond  of  union  ?  Do  crosses, 
bulls,  and  tiaras,  constitute  this  sacred  unity?  Faith 
unites  in  a  spiritual  and  true  unity  all  those  in  whose 
hearts  it  fixes  its  abode.  Tlius  vanished  at  one  blow 
the  triple  delusion  of  meritorious  works,  human  tradi- 
tions, and  a  spurious  unity.  This  is  the  whole  of 
Roman  Catholicism. 

The  discussion   commenced   in   Latin.      Farel  and 
O^colampadius   explained   and    proved    their    articles. 


none  of  them  appeared.  The  sophists  (so  CEcoIam- 
padius  styles  them)  made  a  great  bluster,  but  hidden  in 
their  obscure  retreats.  Accordingly,  the  people  began 
to  despise  the  cowardice  of  the  priests,  and  to  detest 
their  tyranny. 

Thus  Farel  obtained  a  place  among  the  defenders  of 
the  Reformation.  People  were  delighted  to  see  a 
Frenchman  combining  so  much  learning  and  pietj'. 
The  greatest  triumphs  were  anticipated.  "He  is 
strong  enough  by  himself  alone,"  it  was  said,  "  to 
destroy  all  the  Sorboune."  His  candour,  sincerity,  and 
frankness,  gained  all  hearts.  But  in  the  midst  of  his 
activity,  he  forgot  not  that  it  was  in  his  own  soul  his 
mission  behoved  to  commence.  The  mild  Q^colampa- 
dius,  and  the  ai-dent  Farel,  entered  into  a  paction,  in 
virtue  of  which  they  bound  themselves  to  exercise 
humility  and  meekness  in  their  ordinary  conversation. 
These  intrepid  men  knew  how  to  train  themselves  for 
peace  even  on  the  very  battle-field.  The  impetuosity 
of  a  Luther  and  a  Farel  were,  however,  necessary 
virtues.  Some  effort  must  be  made,  when  the  end  in 
view  is  to  disple:ise  the  world,  and  renovate  the  Church. 
The  men  of  our  day  too  often  forget  a  truth  which  the 
meekest  men  of  that  day  recognised.  "Some,"  said 
CEcolampadius  to  Luther,  in  introducing  Farel  to  him, 
2c 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


— '•  some  could  wisli  that  this  zeal  against  the  enemies 
of  the  truth  were  more  moderate  ;  but  I  cannot  help 
seeing  in  this  very  zeal  an  admirable  virtue,  which, 
ft"  seasonably  displayed,  is  no  less  necessary  than 
gentleness."  Posterity  has  confirmed  the  judgment 
of  CEcolampadius. 

In  the  month  of  May,  1524,  Farel,  with  some  friends 
from  Lyons,  visited  Schaffhausen,  Zurich,  and  Con- 
stance. Zwingle  and  Myconius  gave  a  glad  welcome 
to  this  exile  of  France.  Farel  remembered  it  all  his 
days.  On  his  return  to  Biile  he  found  Erasmus  and 
his  other  enemies  at  work,  and  received  orders  to  quit 
the  town.  In  vain  did  his  friends  loudly  testify  their 
disapprobation  of  such  an  abuse  of  power.  He  be- 
hoved to  quit  the  soil  of  Switzerland,  which  was  here- 
after doomed  to  great  disasters.  "  Such,"  said  Qilcolam- 
padius,  "is  the  way  in  which  hospitality  is  understood 
by  us,  true  sons  of  Sodom." 

Farel,  while  at  Bale,  had  continued  upon  intimate 
terms  with  Chevalier  d'Esch,  who  resolved  to  accom- 
pany him.  They  accordingly  set  out,  furnished  with 
letters  to  Capito  and  Luther,  to  whom  the  doctor  of 
Bale  recommended  Farel  as  "the  William  who  had 
laboured  so  much  in  the  work  of  God."  At  Stras- 
burg,  Farel  formed  an  intimate  friendship  with  Capito, 
Bucer,  and  Hedio ;  but  he  appears  not  to  have  gone 
as  far  as  Wittemberg. 


CHAPTER  XL 

New  Campaign— Calling  ot  Farel  to  the  Ministiy— An  Advanced  Post- 
Lyons  au  Evangelical  Focus — Sebville  at  Grenoble— Conventicle-'^ — 
Preaching  at  Lyons— Maigret  in  Prison— Margaret  Intimidated. 

God  usually  removes  His  servants  from  the  field  of 
battle  to  bring  them  back  stronger  and  better  armed. 
Farel,  and  his  friends  in  Meaux,  Lyons,  and  Dauphiny, 
driven  from  France  by  persecution,  had  become  im- 
bued, in  France  and  Germany,  with  the  spirit  of  the 
oldest  Reformers ;  and  now,  like  an  army  at  first 
scattered  by  the  enemy,  but  instantly  rallied,  they  were 
about  to  turn  round  and  march  forward  in  the  name 
of  the  Lord.  These  friends  of  the  Gospel  did  not  only 
re-appear  on  the  frontiers ;  in  France  itself  they  re- 
sumed courage,  and  prepared  to  renew  the  attack. 
The  trumpets  now  sounded  the  revei/h', — the  soldiers 
buckled  on  their  armour,  and  formed  themselves  in 
bands  to  multiply  their  blows, — the  leaders  were  pre- 
paring for  the  onset, — the  watchword,  "  Jesus,  His 
Word,  and  His  grace!"  more  powerful  than  the  flourish 
of  martial  music  at  the  moment  of  battle,  filled  men's 
hearts  with  equal  enthusiasm.  All  was  ready  in 
France  for  a  second  campaign,  which  was  to  bo 
signalized  by  new  victories,  and  by  new  and  greater 
reverses. 

Montbeliard  at  this  time  demanded  a  labourer. 
Duke  Ulric  of  Wurtemberg,  young,  violent,  and  cruel, 
dispossessed  of  his  estates  in  1519  by  the  Swabian 
league,  had  taken  refuge  in  this  county,  the  only 
one  of  his  dominions  remaining  to  him.  He  saw  the 
reformers  in  Switzerland:  his  misfortunes  proved  salu- 


tary, and  he  felt  a  relish  for  the  Gospel.  O^colam- 
padius  informed  Farel  that  a  door  was  opened  in 
Montbeliard,  and  Farel  hastened  secretly  to  Bale. 

Farel  had  not  regularly  entered  the   ministry,  but 
at  this  period  we  find  in  him  all  that  was  necessary  to 
constitute  a  minister  of  the  Lord.     He  did  not  throw 
himself  into  the  service  of  the  Church  thoughtlessly, 
and  of  hLs  own  accord.     "  Looking  at  my  littleness." 
he  says,  ''  I  should  not  have  dared  to  preach,  waiting 
until  my  Lord  should  send  a  fitter  person.     But  God 
gave  me  a  triple  call.     He  was  no  sooner  arrived  at 
Bale,  than  CEcolampadius,  touched  with  the  wants  of 
France,  besought  him  to  devote  himself  to  it.     "  See," 
said  he  to  him,  "  how  little  Jesus  Christ  is  known  by 
all  who  speak  the  French  language !    Will  ye  not  give 
them    some   instruction  in   their  mother  tongue,  that 
they  may  the  better  understand  the  Holy  Scriptures?"     j 
At  the  same  time  he  received  a  call  from  the  people  of 
Montbeliard,  and  the  prince  consented.     Was  not  this     j 
triple  call  from  God?    .    .    .    "  I  did  not  think,"  says     j 
he,  "  it  could  be  lawful  for  me  to  resist.    According  to     | 
God,  I  obey."      Concealed  in  the  house  of  OEcolam-     j 
padius,  struggling  with  the  responsibility  which  was     j 
offered  to  him,  yet  obliged  to  yield  to  the  clear  mani-      i 
festation  of  the  will  of  God,  Farel  accepted  the  charge, 
and  QScolampadius  commended  him  to  it,  calling  on     | 
the  name  of  tlie  Lord,  and  givmg  his  friend  counsels     i 
full  of  wisdom.     "  The  more  you  are  inclined  to  vio- 
lence," said  he  to  him,  "the  more  ought  you  to  exer- 
cise yourself  in  gentleness — temper  your  lion-courage 
with  dove-like  gentleness."    Farel  answered  this  appeal 
with  all  his  soul. 

Thus  Farel,  of  old  an  ardent  follower  of  the  ancient 
Church,  was  going  to  become  a  servant  of  God  in  the 
new  Cliurch.  If  Rome  demands,  to  the  validity  of  aa 
ordination,  the  laying  on  of  the  hands  of  a  bishop  de- 
scended by  uninterrupted  succession  from  the  Apostles, 
it  is  merely  because  she  places  human  tradition  above 
the  Word  of  God.  In  every  church  where  the  au- 
thority of  the  Word  is  not  absolute,  it  is  necessary  to 
have  recourse  to  another  authority.  And  then,  what 
more  natural  than  to  look  to  the  most  venerated  minis- 
ters of  God,  for  what  they  know  not  how  to  find  in 
God  himself?  If  they  speak  not  in  the  name  of  Jesus 
Christ,  is  it  not  something,  at  least,  to  speak  in  the 
name  of  St.  John  and  St.  Paul?  He  who  speaks  in 
the  name  of  antiquity,  is  stronger  than  the  rationalist, 
who  speaks  only  in  his  own  name.  But  the  Christian 
minister  has  a  still  higher  authority:  he  preaches  not 
because  he  descends  from  St.  Chrysostom  and  St. 
Peter,  but  because  the  Word  which  he  announces 
descends  from  God  himself.  The  idea  of  succession, 
how  respectable  soever  it  may  appear,  is  only  a  human 
system  substituted  for  the  system  of  God.  In  the 
ordination  of  Farel  there  was  no  human  succession ; — 
nay,  more,  there  was  not  in  it  a  thing  which  is  neces- 
sary in  the  Lord's  flocks,  among  whom  even/thint/  must 
be  done  in  order — God  being  not  a  God  of  confusion.  He 
had  no  ordination  by  the  Church.  But  extraordinary 
times  justify  extraordinary  things.  At  this  memorable 
period  God  himself  interposed.  By  marvellous  dispen- 
sations He  consecrated  those  whom  He  called  to  the 
renovation  of  the  world ;  and  this  consecration  is  well 
worth   that  of   the  Church.      There  was  in  Farel's 


LYONS  AN  EVANGELICAL  FOCUS. 


ordination  the  iiifiilliblo  "Word  of  God  piven  to  a  man 
of  God  to  carry  it  to  the  world — the  call  of  God  and 
the  people,  and  the  ordination  of  the  heart.  Perhaps 
tliere  is  not  a  minister  of  Rome  or  Geneva  who  has 
been  more  lefiitimately  ordained  to  the  holy  ministry. 
Farel  set  out  for  Montbeliurd  accompanied  by  D'Escli. 

Farel  was  thus  placed  as  an  advanced  post.  Behiml 
him  were  Bale  and  Strasburg,  to  support  him  by  their 
counsels  aud  printing-presses.  Before  him  stretched 
the  provinces  of  Frauche-Comt(',  Burgundy,  Lorraine, 
Lyonnais,  and  the  rest  of  Fraucc,  where  men  of  God 
were  beginning  to  struggle  against  error  in  the  midst 
of  profound  darkness,  lie  inimodintcly  began  to 
l)reach  Christ,  and  to  entreat  the  faithful  not  to  allow 
themselves  to  be  turned  from  the  Holy  Scriptures  by 
threats  or  guile.  Farel  was  at  IMontbeliard  like  a 
general  on  a  height,  with  a  piercing  eye  taking  in  the 
whole  field  of  battle,  urging  those  who  are  actually 
engaged,  rallying  those  whom  the  impetiiosity  of  the 
attack  has  thrown  into  disorder,  aud  by  his  own  cour- 
age inflaming  those  who  remained  behind.  Erasmus 
immediately  wrote  to  his  Roman  Catholic  friends,  that 
a  Frenchman  escaped  from  France  was  making  a  great 
disturbance  in  those  regions. 

Farel's  lessons  were  not  in  vain.  One  of  his  country- 
men, writing  to  him,  says  :  "  Everywhere  we  see  men 
springing  up  and  spending  their  labour  and  their  whole 
life  in  doing  what  they  can  to  extend  the  Gospel  of 
Jesus  Christ."  The  friends  of  the  Gospel  blessed  the 
Lord  that  the  Sacred  AVord  was  daily  shining  through- 
out Gaul  with  a  brighter  lustre.  The  enemy  was 
alarmed.  '•  The  /((c'//o«,"  wrote  Erasmus  to  the  bishop 
of  Rochester,  '•  is  every  day  extending  more  aud  more, 
being  propagated  in  Savoy,  Lorraine,  aud  France." 

For  some  time  Lyons  seemed  to  be  the  centre  of  the 
evangelical  movement  within  the  kingdom,  as  Bale  was 
beginning  to  be  out  of  it.  Francis  I.,  going  into  the 
South  on  a  campaign  against  Charles  V.,  had  arrived 
there  with  his  mother,  his  sister,  and  his  court.  Mar- 
garet had  with  her  several  individuals  devoted  to  the 
Gospel. 

'•  All  others  she  left  behind,"  says  a  letter  of  this 
period.  While  Francis  I.  sent  through  Lyons  G,000 
troops,  and  1,500  lances  of  French  nobility,  to  join 
14,000  Swiss,  in  order  to  repel  the  invasion  of  Pro- 
vence by  the  imperialists, — while  this  great  city  re- 
sounded with  the  noise  of  arms,  the  trampling  of 
horses,  and  the  sound  of  trumpets,  the  friends  of  the 
Gospel  were  marching  to  more  peaceful  conquests. 
They  wished  to  attempt  at  Lyons  what  they  had  been 
unable  to  accomplish  at  Paris.  It  might  be,  that  away 
from  the  Sorbonuc  and  the  Parliament,  the  AVord  of 
God  would  have  gi-eater  freedom.  It  might  be,  that 
the  second  city  of  the  kingdom  was  destined  to  become, 
with  regard  to  the  Gospel,  the  first.  Was  it  not  here 
that,  nearly  four  centuries  before,  worthy  Peter  Waldo 
began  to  spread  the  Divine  Word  ?  He  had  at  that 
time  shaken  France.  Now  that  God  had  fully  pre- 
pared the  emancipation  of  His  Church,  might  not 
larger  and  more  decisive  success  be  anticipated  '1  Ac- 
cordingly the  men  of  Lyons,  though  it  is  true  they 
were  not,  in  general,  as  in  the  twelfth  centurj',  the 
'•  poor,"  began  boldly  to  wield  tlie  sword  of  the  Spirit, 
which  is  tlie  Word  of  God. 


Among  the  persons  about  Margaret  was  her  almoner, 
Michel  d'Arande.  The  Duchess  caused  the  Gospel  to 
be  publicly  preached  in  Lyons.  Master  Michel  preach- 
eil  it  loudly  and  purely  to  a  large  audience,  attracted 
partly  by  the  interest  which  the  glad  tidings  excited 
wherever  they  are  published,  and  partly  also  by  the 
respect  in  which  the  preaching  and  the  preacher  were 
held  by  the  beloved  sister  of  the  king. 

Anthony  Papillon,  a  man  of  very  cultivated  mind, 
an  elegant  scholar,  a  friend  of  Erasmus,  and  "  the  first 
in  France  well  learned  in  the  Gospel,"  also  accom- 
panied the  jirincess.  He  had,  at  Margaret's  request, 
translated  Luther's  work  on  monastic  vows,  "which 
brought  him  into  much  trouble  with  those  Parisian 
vermin,"  says  Sebville.  But  Margaret  had  protected 
this  learned  man  when  attacked  by  the  Sorbonne,  and 
had  procured  him  the  office  of  First  Master  of  Re- 
quests to  the  Dauphin,  with  a  place  in  the  Great 
Council.  He  aided  the  Gospel  not  less  by  his  devoted- 
ness  than  by  his  prudence.  A  mei-chant  n.imed 
Vaugris,  and  especially  a  gentleman  named  Anthony 
du  Blet,  a  friend  of  Farel,  were  at  the  head  of  the 
Reformation  in  Lyons.  The  latter^  possessed  of  great 
activity,  served  as  a  link  to  connect  the  Christians 
scattered  over  those  districts,  and  placed  them  in  com- 
munication with  Bale.  While  the  warriors  of  Francis 
I.  only  passed  through  Lyons,  the  spiritual  soldiers  of 
Jesus  Christ  stopped  there  with  Margaret.  Allowing 
the  former  to  carry  war  into  Provence  and  the  plains 
of  Italy,  they  began  in  Lyons  itself  to  fight  the  battle 
of  the  Gospel. 

But  they  did  not  confine  themselves  to  Lyons,  They 
looked  all  around  them.  The  campaign  commenced  in 
several  quarters  at  once.  The  Christians  of  Lyons,  by 
their  words  and  their  labours,  encouraged  all  who  con- 
fessed Christ  in  the  surrounding  provinces.  They  did 
more.  They  sent  and  preached  it  where  it  was  not  yet 
known.  The  new  doctrine  ascended  the  Saone,  and  an 
evangelist  trod  the  rough  and  narrow  streets  of  Ma^on. 
Michel  d'Arande  himself,  almoner  to  the  king's  sister, 
weut  thither  in  1524,  and,  by  the  aid  of  Margaret's 
name,  obtained  liberty  to  preach  in  this  town,  which, 
at  a  later  period,  was  to  be  full  of  blood,  and  whose 
kajys  were  to  pass  into  a  by-word. 

After  climbing  in  the  direction  of  the  Rhone,  the 
Christians  of  Lyons,  ever  on  the  outlook,  climbed  in 
the  direction  of  the  Alps.  At  Lyons  there  was  a 
Dominican,  named  Maigret,  who  had  been  obliged  to 
quit  Dauphiny,  where  he  had  preached  the  new  doc- 
trine with  decision.  He  urgently  asked  that  some  one 
should  go  and  encourage  his  brethren  of  Grenoble  and 
Gap.  Papillon  and  Du  Blet  went.  A  violent  storm 
had  just  burst  on  Sebville  aud  his  preaching.  The 
Dominicans  had  moved  heaven  and  earth.  Furious  at 
seeing  so  many  evangelists — Farel,  Anemond,  Maigret 
— escape  them,  they  would  fain  have  annihilated  those 
within  their  reach.  They  had,  accordingly,  called  for 
the  apprehension  of  Sebville. 

The  friends  of  the  Gospel  in  Grenoble  were  in  dis- 
may.    Must  Sebville  also  be  taken  from  them?     Mar-     ! 
garet  interceded  with  her   brother.      Several  of   the      ! 
most  distinguished  pereous  of  Grenoble,  among  others,      i 
the  king's  advocate,  avowed  or  secret  friends  of  the 
Gospel,  exerted   themselves   in  behalf   of   the   evan-      ! 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


gelical   cordelier,   aud   at   length   tlieir   united   efforts 
rescued  him  from  the  fury  of  his  enemies. 

But  if  Sebville's  life  was  safe,  his  mouth  was  shut. 
"Be  silent,"  he  was  told,  "or  the  scaffold  awaits  you." 
AYriting  to  Anemond  de  Coct,  he  says :  "  Silence  is 
imposed  upon  me  luider  pain  of  death."  These 
menaces  of  the  enemy  alarmed  even  those  of  whom  the 
best  had  been  hoped.  The  king's  advocate,  and  other 
friends  of  the  Gospel,  now  shewed  nothing  but  cold- 
ness: several  returned  to  the  Eomisli  ritual,  pretending 
to  worship  God  in  the  secrecy  of  their  heart,  and  to 
give  the  external  rites  of  Catholicism  a  spiritual  mean- 
ing,— a  sad  delusion,  which  leads  from  infidelity  to 
infidelity.  No  hypocrisy  can  thus  be  justified.  The 
unbeliever,  by  means  of  his  system  of  myths  and  alle- 
gories, will  preach  Christ  from  the  Christian  pulpit ; 


and  the  follower  of  sonic  abominable  superstition 
among  the  heathen  will  be  able,  with  a  little  intellect, 
to  find  in  it  the  symbol  of  a  pure  and  elevated  idea. 
In  religion  the  first  thing  is  truth.  Some  of  the  Chris- 
tians of  Grenoble,  among  them  Amedeus  Galbert,  and 
a  cousin  of  Anemond,  continued  firm  in  the  faith. 
These  pious  men  met  in  secret  with  Sebville  sometimes 
at  the  house  of  one  or  other  of  them,  and  talked  to- 
gether of  the  Gospel.  They  repaired  to  some  distant 
retreat,  or  went  during  the  night  to  the  house  of  a 
brother.  They  hid  themselves  to  pray  to  Jesus  Christ, 
as  robbers  do  to  commit  crimes.  More  than  once  the 
humble  assembly  was  disturbed  by  false  alarms.  The 
enemy  connived  at  their  secret  conventicles ;  but  they 
had  sworn  that  the  faggot  would  do  justice  to  who- 
ever should  dare  to  discourse  publicly  of  the  Word  of 
God.  ^ 


It  was  in  these  circumstances  that  Messires  du  Blet 
aud  Papillon  arrived  at  Grenoble.  Seeing  that  Seb- 
ville's mouth  was  shut,  they  exhorted  him  to  come  and 
preach  Christ  at  Lyons.  Tlie  Lent  of  the  following 
year  was  to  present  a  favourable  occasion  for  preach- 
ing it  to  a  numerous  crowd.  Michael  d'Arande, 
Maigret,  and  Sebville,  prepared  to  fight  at  the  head 
of  the  Gospel  phalanxes.  Every  preparation  was  thus 
made  for  a  brilliant  manifestation  of  the  truth  in  the 
second  city  of  France.  The  rumour  of  this  evan- 
gelical Lent  spread  as  far  as  Switzerland.  "  Sebville 
is  set  free,  and  will  preach  this  Lent  at  St.  Paul's  at 
Lyons,"  wrote  Anemond  to  Farel.  But  a  great  dis- 
aster, carrying  affliction  into  every  part  of  France, 
prevented  this  spiritual  combat.  It  is  in  peace  that 
the  Gospel  makes  its  conquests.  The  defeat  of  Pavia, 
which  took  place  in  the  month  of  February,  frustrated 
this  bold  plan  of  the  Reformers. 

Meanwhile,  without  waiting  for  Sebville,  Maigret, 
at  Lyons,  jireached  salvation  by  Christ  alone,  notwith- 
standing of  the  keen  opposition  of  priests  and  monks. 
In  these  discourses  there  was  no  longer  any  question 
a>  to  the  worship  of  creatures,  the  saints,  the  Virgin, 
md  the  power  of  the  priests.     The  great  mystery  of 

idliness,   '-God   manifest   in   the   flesh,"   was   alone 

I  roclaimed.     The  ancient  heresies   of  the  paupers  of 

I  yons,  it  was  said,  have  re-appeared  in  a  worse  form 

I   than  ever.    Notwithstanding  of  this  opposition,  Maigret 

lutimied  his  ministry.  The  faith  which  animated 
his  soul  expressed  itself  in  powerful  language.  It  is 
(  f  the  nature  of  truth  to  embolden  the  heart  which 
has  received  it.  However,  Rome  was  to  prevail  at 
Lyons  as  at  Grenoble.  In  presence  of  Margaret, 
Jlaigret  was  arrested,  dragged  along  the  streets,  and 
t  ist  into  prison.  Vaugris,  a  merchant,  who  at  this 
time  left  the  town  on  a  journey  into  Switzerland, 
pread  the  news  as  he  passed  along.  They  produced 
(stonishment  and  despondency.  One  idea,  however, 
calmed  the  fears  of  the  reformed:  "Maigret  is  seized," 
it  was  said;  "but  Madame  d'Ahnqon  is  there,  thank 
God!  " 

This  hope  was  soon  disappointed.  The  Sorbonne 
had  condemned  several  of  the  propositions  of  this 
faithful  minister.  Margaret,  whose  situation  was 
always  becoming  more  diflicult,  saw  at  once  an  in- 
crease in  the  hardihood  of  the  friends  of  the  Refor- 
mation, and  in  the  hatred  of  its  powerful  enemies. 
Francis  I.  began  to  feel  impatient  at  the  zeal  of  the 
evangelists.  He  saw  in  tliese  fanatics  what  he  deemed 
it  right  to  suppress.  Margaret,  thus  suspended  be- 
tween her  desire  of  being  useful  to  her  brethren,  and 
her  inability  to  save  them,  sent  an  intimation  to  them 
not  to  throw  themselves  into  new  dangers,  seeing  that 
she  would  write  no  more  to  the  king  in  their  favour. 
The  friends  of  the  Gospel  thought  that  this  resolution 
was  not  irrevocable  :  "  God  give  her  grace,"  said  they, 
"  to  say  and  write  only  what  is  necessary  to  poor 
souls."  But  if  this  human  resource  fails  them,  Christ 
remains.  It  is  good  for  the  soul  to  be  left  without 
help,  in  order  that  it  may  lean  on  Christ  alone. 


TRANSLATION  AND  PRINTING  AT  BALE. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Tlic  Frcncli  at  IMlc— Encouragement  of  the  Swms— Fear  of  Disunion— 
Translations  and  Priuting  Prcssts  at  Cile-BibKs  auU  TracU  Circulated 

Me^VJJTIME  the  cflforts  of  the  friends  of  the  Gospel  wore 
paralyzed.  The  great  were  beginning  to  be  hostile  to 
Christianity.  Margaret  was  afraid :  dreadful  news 
were  about  to  cross  the  Alps,  and  blow  after  blow  to 
throw  the  kingdom  into  mourning,  leaving  only  one 
thought — to  save  the  king,  to  save  France.  But  if  the 
Christians  of  Lyons  were  arrested  in  their  labours, 
were  there  not  at  Bale  soldiers  who  had  escaped  from 
tlic  battle,  and  were  ready  to  begin  anew  ?  The  exiles 
of  France  have  never  forgotten  her.  Driven  from 
their  country  for  nearly  three  centuries  by  the  fana- 
ticism of  Rome,  we  see  their  latest  descendants  carry- 
ing to  the  towns  and  fields  of  their  fathers  the  treasures 
of  which  the  pope  deprives  them.  At  the  moment 
when  the  soldiers  of  Christ  in  France,  in  despondency, 
threw  down  their  arms,  the  refugees  of  Biile  prepared 
for  the  combat.  Seeing  the  monarchy  of  St.  Louis  and 
Charlemagne  tottering  in  the  hands  of  Francis  I.,  will 
they  not  feel  called  to  aspire  to  a  linr/dom  which  cannot 
be  moved? 

Fai-cl,  Ancmond,  d'Esch,  Toussaiut,  and  their  friends, 
formed  in  Switzerland  an  evangelical  society,  with  the 
view  of  delivering  their  country  from  spii-itual  dark- 
ness. Lettei-s  were  received  from  all  quarters,  inform- 
ing them  that  the  thirst  for  the  Word  of  God  was 
growing  in  France.  It  was  necessary  to  take  advan- 
tage of  this — to  water  and  sow  seed  during  seed-time. 
CEcolaiupadius  and  Oswald  Myconius  ceiised  not  to 
encourage  them  in  it.  They  gave  their  hand,  and  in- 
spired them  with  their  faith.  The  Swiss  schoolmaster, 
in  January,  1525,  wrote  to  the  French  knight :  "Ban- 
ished as  you  are  from  your  country  by  the  tyranny  of 
Antichrist,  your  very  presence  in  the  midst  of  us  proves 
that  you  have  acted  with  courage  in  the  cause  of  the 
Gospel.  Tiie  tyranny  of  the  Christian  bishops  will 
soon  make  the  people  regard  them  only  as  liars.  Re- 
main firm.  The  time  is  not  distant  when  we  shall 
enter  the  haven  of  rest,  whether  tyrants  strike  us  or 
be  themselves  struck,  and  then  all  will  be  well  with  us, 
provided  we  be  faithful  to  Jesus  Christ." 

These  encom-agcmeuts  were  precious  to  the  French 
refugees ;  but  a  blow,  proceeding  from  these  same 
Cliristians  of  Switzerland  and  Germany,  who  sought  to 
strengthen  them,  tore  their  hearts  to  pieces.  Scarcely 
escaped  from  the  faggot,  they  were  in  dismay  when 
they  saw  ihe  evangelical  Christians  beyond  the  Rhine 
disturbing  the  repose  which  they  enjoyed  by  lament- 
able dissensions.  The  discussion  on  the  Supper  had 
begun.  Moved  and  agitated,  feeling  strongly  how 
much  need  there  was  of  charity,  the  French  would 
have  given  everything  to  effect  a  reconciliation  be- 
tween these  divided  spirits.  This  became  their  riding 
thought.  At  the  period  of  the  Reformation  none  had 
so  much  need  of  Christian  unity  as  they.  Of  this,  at 
a  later  period,  Calvin  was  a  proof.  ''  Would  to  God," 
said  Peter  Toussaint,  "  that  I  were  able,  with  all  my 


blood,  which  indeed  is  not  worth  much,  to  purchase 
peace,  concord,  and  union  in  .lesus  Christ."  The 
French,  possessed  of  a  clear  and  ready  judgment,  im- 
mediately perceived  that  this  new  discussion  would  ar- 
rest the  work  of  the  Reformation.  "  Everything  would 
go  on  much  better  than  at  present  if  we  were  agreed. 
There  are  many  people  who  would  willingly  come  to 
the  light ;  but  when  they  see  these  divisions  among  the 
clergy,  they  know  not  what  to  do." 

The  French  were  the  first  who  thought  of  taking 
steps  for  reconciliation.  "  Why,"  they  wrote  to  Stras- 
burg,  "  not  send  a  Bucor,  or  some  other  learned 
man,  to  T.iitlicr'  The  \r,n'z<'\-  we  wait,  the  greater  the 
dissLMiH.iM  will  1h',Miii,/'  'I'l,,  M'  fears  only  increased. 
At  leii;_^ili,  -•■eiii'i  ilpir  riim-i-  ii  rlcv^,  these  Christians, 
ill  griul,  tuniej  tlnir  eye-  away  from  Germany,  and 
fixed  tlieiii  earnestly  on  Franco. 

France — the  conversion  of  France,  thenceforth  ex- 
clusively engrossed  the  hearts  of  these  generous  men, 
whom  history,  which  has  inscribed  on  her  pages  the 
names  of  so  many  individuals  vainly  ]Hiffed  up  with 
their  own  glory,  has  not  even  mentioned.  Thrown 
upon  a  foreign  land,  they  there  flung  themselves  upon 
their  knees,  and  daily,  in  the  solitude  of  their  retreat, 
invoked  God  in  behalf  of  the  land  of  their  fathers. 
Prayer ! — such  was  the  power  by  which  the  Gospel 
was  spread  over  the  kingdom,  and  tlie  great  instru- 
ment to  which  the  Reformation  owed  her  conquests. 

But  these  Frenchmen  were  not  only  men  of  prayer ; 
never  did  an  evangelical  army  number  soldiers  more 
ready  to  devote  their  persons  in  the  hour  of  battle. 
They  saw  the  importance  of  diffusing  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures and  pious  books  in  their  country,  still  immersed 
in  the  darkness  of  superstition.  A  spirit  of  inquiry 
circulated  over  the  whole  kingdom ;  it  was  necessary 
to  give  it  wings.  Anemond,  always  prompt  in  action, 
and  Michael  Beutin,  another  refugee,  resolved  to  unite 
their  zeal,  their  talents,  their  means,  and  their  labours. 
Beutin  wished  to  establish  a  printing  press  at  Btile ; 
and  the  knight,  in  order  to  turn  to  profit  the  little  that 
he  knew  of  German,  proposed  to  translate  the  best 
works  of  the  Reformation  into  French.  In  the  joy 
which  their  project  inspired,  they  exclaimed:  "W'ould 
to  God  that  France  were  completely  filled  with  Gospel 
volumes,  so  that  everywhere,  in  the  cottages  of  the 
poor,  and  the  palaces  of  the  great,  in  cloisters  and 
presbyteries,  and  in  the  inner  sanctuary  of  the  heart, 
a  powerful  testimony  might  be  borne  to  Jesus  Christ." 

Such  an  enterprise  required  friends,  and  the  refugees 
had  nothing.  At  this  time  Vaugi-is  was  at  Bale,  and 
Anemond,  on  his  departure,  sent  by  him  a  letter  to 
the  brethren  of  Lyons,  several  of  whom  were  rich  in 
worldly  goods,  and  who,  though  oppressed,  were  always 
faithful  to  the  Gospel.  He  asked  them  to  send  him 
some  assistance.  But  this  was  not  enough.  The 
French  wished  to  establish  several  presses  in  Bale, 
which,  working  night  and  day,  might  inundate  France 
with  the  Word  of  God.  At  Meaux  and  Metz,  and 
other  places  besides,  were  men  rich  enough  and  power- 
ful enough  to  aid  in  this  enterprise.  No  man  could 
address  Frenchmen  with  so  mucli  authority  as  Farel. 
To  him,  therefore,  Anemond  turned. 

It  does  not  appear  that  the  knight's  scheme  was  re- 
alized ;  but  the  work  was  done  by  others.    The  presses 


30() 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


of  Bale  were  coustantly  employed  in  printing  French 
books.  These  were  sent  to  Farcl,  who  was  unremit- 
ting in  introducing  them  into  France.  One  of  the  first 
productions  sent  by  this  Eeligious  Tract  Society  was 
the  "Exposition  of  the  Lord's  Prayer,"  by  Luther. 
The  merchant  Vaugris  wrote  Fare! :  "  We  sell  the 
tract  of  the  '  Pater '  at  four  deuiers  of  Bale,  by  retail ; 
but  wholesale  wc  sell  200  for  two  florins,  which  is  not 
so  much." 

From  Bale,  Auemond  sent  Farel  all  the  useful  books 
which  appeared  there,  or  arrived  from  Germany;  one 
of  these  was  a  treatise  on  the  training  of  Christian 
ministers,  and  another  on  the  education  of  children. 
Farel  examined  these  writings.  He  composed,  trans- 
lated, or  procured  others  to  translate  into  French.  He 
appeared  to  be  at  once  all  action  and  all  study.  Ane- 
mond  urged  on  and  superintended  the  press;  and  these 
epistles,  these  prayers,  these  books,  all  these  flying 
sheets,  were  the  means  of  regenerating  the  age.  While 
dissipation  came  forth  from  the  throne,  and  darkness 
from  the  steps  of  the  altar,  these  unobserved  writings 
sent  over  the  nation  rays  of  light  and  seeds  of  holi- 
ness. 

But  it  was  the  "Word  of  God,  above  all,  that  the 
evangelical  merchant  of  Lyons  demanded  in  the  name 
of  his  couutrymen.  This  people  of  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury, hungering  for  intellectual  food,  were  to  receive, 
in  their  own  tongue,  those  ancient  monuments  of  the 
first  ages  of  the  world,  and  inhale  the  new  breath  of 
primitive  humanity,  together  with  those  holy  oracles  of 
Gospel  times  in  which  the  fulness  of  the  Christian 
revelation  is  displayed.  Vaugiis  wrote  to  Farel :  "  I 
pray  you,  if  it  be  possible,  to  get  a  translation  of  the 
New  Testament  by  some  man  able  to  make  it.  It 
would  be  a  great  boon  to  France,  Burgundy,  and 
Savoy.  And  if  it  was  necessary  to  have  a  French 
letter,  (printing  types.)  I  would  cause  it  to  be  procured 
from  Paris  or  Lyons, — if  good  ones  cau  be  got  at  Bi'de, 
so  much  the  better." 

Before  this  time  the  books  of  the  New  Testament 
in  Frencli,  but  in  detached  parts,  had  been  published 
by  Lefevre  at  Meaux.  Vaugris  wished  that  some  one 
would  revise  the  wliole,  and  superintend  a  complete 
edition.  Lefevre  undertook  the  task,  and  published  it, 
as  we  have  already  said,  on  the  12th  October,  1524. 
An  uncle  of  Vaugris,  named  Conrard,  a  refugee  at 
Bale,  immediately  procured  a  copy  of  it.  On  the 
18th  November,  Chevalier  de  Coct,  at  the  house  of  a 
friend,  saw  the  book,  and  was  overjoyed.  "  Haste, 
and  get  it  reprinted,"  said  he,  "for  I  doubt  not  that  a 
very  great  number  will  be  disposed  of." 

Thus  the  Word  of  God  was  presented  to  France 
in  opposition  to  the  traditions  of  the  Church,  which 
Rome  still  ceases  not  to  offer  to  her.  "How  is  it 
possible,"  asked  the  reformers,  "  to  distinguish  be- 
tween what  is  human  in  tradition,  and  what  is  Divine, 
unless  by  the  Scriptures  of  God?  The  sentences  of 
Fathers,  the  decretals  of  the  heads  of  the  Church, 
cannot  bo  the  rules  of  our  faith.  They  shew  us  what 
Wiis  the  opinion  of  those  ancient  teachers;  but  the 
Word  alone  informs  us  what  is  the  truth  of  God. 
We  must  make  everything  submit  to  Scripture." 

Such  was  the  principal  means  by  which  these  writ- 
ings were  diffused.     Farel  and  liis   friends  entrusted 


the  books  to  some  dealers  or  hawkers,  simple  and 
pious  men,  who,  bearing  their  precious  burden,  went 
from  town  to  town,  village  to  village,  and  house  to 
house,  in  Franche-Comte,  Lorraine,  Burgundy,  and 
the  neighbouring  provinces,  knocking  at  every  door. 
These  books  were  given  them  at  a  low  price,  "in 
order  that  they  might  feel  desirous  to  sell  them." 
Thus,  as  early  as  1524,  there  was  in  Bale,  for  the 
benefit  of  France,  a  Bible  and  Eeligious  Tract  Hawk- 
ing Society.  It  is  an  error  to  suppose  that  these  take 
their  date  from  our  age.  In  their  essential  idea  they 
go  back  not  only  to  the  period  of  the  Reformation,  but 
to  the  first  ages  of  the  Church. 


CHAPTER  Xlll. 


■gress  at  Moutbeliavd— Opposition  anil  Diatui-bauco— Touissant  ijiiit; 
CEcolampadiuo— Tlie  Day  of  tlie  Bridge— Deatli  of  Aneiuond— Suclcs 


The  attention  which  Farel  gave  to  France  did  not 
make  him  overlook  the  places  in  which  he  lived. 
Having  arrived  at  Moutbeliard,  towards  the  end  of 
July,  1524,  he  had  there  scarcely  sown  the  seed,  than, 
as  CEcolampadius  expresses  it,  the  first-fruits  of  the 
harvest  began  to  appear.  Farel,  quite  delighted, 
wrote  of  it  to  this  friend.  "  It  is  easy,"  replied  the 
teacher  of  Bale,  "  to  introduce  some  dogmas  into  the 
ears  of  the  hearers ;  but  to  change  the  heart  is  God's 
own  work." 

Chevalier  de  Coct,  delighted  with  the  news,  repaired, 
with  his  ordinary  vivacity,  to  Peter  Toussaint.  "  I  set 
out  to-morrow  on  a  visit  to  Farel,"  said  he  hastily. 
Toussaint,  who  was  more  calm,  wrote  to  the  evangelist 
of  Montbeliard :  "  Take  care ;  the  cause  that  you  main- 
tain is  a  great  cause ;  it  must  not  be  defiled  by  human 
counsels.  The  powerful  promise  you  their  favour, 
their  assistance,  mountains  of  gold.  .  .  .  But  to 
trust  in  these  things,  is  to  desert  Jesus  Christ  and 
walk  in  darkness."  Toussaint  was  finishing  his  letter 
when  the  chevalier  entered.  He  took  it,  and  set  out 
for  Montbeliard. 

He  found  the  whole  town  in  great  agitation.  Several 
of  the  great,  in  alarm,  and  eyeing  Farel  disdainfully, 
said:  "What  does  this  poor  wi-etch  mean?  Would  to 
God  he  had  never  come !  He  cannot  remain  here, 
for  he  would  involve  us  all  in  his  ruin."  These  nobles, 
who  had  taken  refuge  at  Montbeliard  with  the  duke, 
feared  that  the  noise  which  the  Reformation  every- 
where made  would  draw  upon  them  the  attention  of 
Charles  V.,  and  Ferdinand,  who  would  chase  them 
from  their  last  asylum.  But  Farel  met  with  the 
greatest  resistance  from  the  clergy.  The  guardian 
of  the  Franciscans  of  Besan9on  had  hastened  to  Mont- 
beliard, and  had  formed  a  plan  of  defence  with  the 
clergy  of  the  place.  On  the  following  Sunday,  Farel 
had  scarcely  begun  his  sermon  when  they  interrupted 
him,  oalling  him  a  liar,  and  a  heretic.  Immediately 
the  whole  assembly  was  in  a  stir.  They  rose  up,  and 
called  for  silence.     The  duke  hastened  up,  caused  both 


TOUSSAINT  LEAVES  (ECOLAIMPADIUS. 


391 


the  guardian  aud  Farel  to  be  apprehended,  and  ordered 
tlic  former  either  to  prove  his  accusations,  or  to  retract 
them.  Tiie  guardian  preferred  the  hitter  alternative, 
and  an  ollicial  report  was  published  on  the  whole 
affair.     . 

This  attack  aroused  Farel  still  more.     He  thought 
himself    thenceforth    bound    to    shew   no    delicacy   in 
unmasking    these    selfish    priests;    and    drawing    the 
sword   of  the  Word,   he   dealt  vigorous  blows.      He 
was  more  disposed  to  imitate  Jesus,  when  lie  drove 
the  money-changers  from  the  temple,  and  overthrew 
their  tables,  than  when  the  prophetical  spirit  bore  this 
testimony  to  Him  :  He  shall  not  utrive  nor  ciy,  neither 
shall  any  one  hear  His  voice  in  the  streets.     CEcolara- 
padius  was  alarmed.     In  these  two  men  were  perfect 
types  of  two  diametrically  opposite  characters,  aud  yet 
both  worthy  of  admiration.     "  You  have  been  sent," 
wrote  QCcoiam])adius  to  Farel,  •'  to  draw  men  gently 
to  the  truth,  and  not  to  drag  them  with  violence, — to 
bring  glad  tidings,  and  not  to  curse.     Physicians  have 
I      recourse  to  amputation  only  when  other  remedies  are 
useless.     Conduct  yourself  as  a  physician,  aud  not  as 
j      an  e.vecutioner.     I  do  not  hold  it  enough  for  you  to  be 
mild  towards  the  friends  of  the  AVord.     You  must  also 
!      gain  its  enemies.     If  the  wolves  arc  driven  away  from 
I      the  shcepfold,  let  the  sheep,  at  least,  hear  the  voice  of 
the  Shepherd.     Pour  oil  and  wine  into  wounds,  and 
conduct  yourself  as  an  evangelist,  and  not  as  a  tyi'ant." 
I  The  uoisc  of  these  doings  spread  over  France  and 

'      Loiraiue,  aud  alarm  began  to  be  felt  in  the  Sorbouue 
and  by  the  cardinal  at  this  union  of  the  refugees  in 
'      Bale  and  Montbeliard.      It  was  wished  to  break  up 
I      an  alliance  that  gave  imcasiness ;  for  error  knows  no 
[      greater  triumph  than  to  win  over  deserters.     Already 
jiartial  Mazurier  and  others  had  given  the  Galilean 
papacy  the  joy  produced  by  shameful  defection ;  but 
if  they  could  succeed  in  seducing  one  of  these  con- 
fessors of  Christ,  who  had  taken  refuge  on  the  banks 
of  the  Rhine,  after  having  suffered  much  for  the  name 
of  the  Lord,  how  great  a  Aictory  to  the  pontifical 
hierarchy!      She  accordingly  prepared  her  batteries, 
and  singled  out  the  youngest  as  the  object  of  attack. 

The  primicier,  the  Cai-dinal  of  Lorraine,  aud  all  who 
belonged  to  the  numerous  circles  which  met  at  the 
house  of  this  prelate,  deplored  the  sad  fate  of  Peter 
Toussaint,  who  had  given  them  so  many  hopes.  lie  ' 
is  at  Bale,  it  was  said,  in  the  very  house  of  CEcolam- 
padius,  living  with  one  of  the  leaders  of  heresy.  They 
wrote  to  him  with  earnestness,  as  if  his  eternal  saha- 
tion  had  been  at  stake.  These  letters  tormented  the 
poor  young  man  the  more,  that  he  could  not  help  see- 
ing in  them  an  affection  which  he  valued.  One  of  his 
relations,  probably  the  primicier  himself,  called  upon 
him  to  go  to  Paris  or  Metz,  or  any  place  he  pleased, 
provided  it  was  away  from  the  Lutherans.  This  rela- 
tive, who  wa.s  aware  of  all  that  Toussaint  owed  him, 
did  not  doubt  that  he  would  immediately  obey  his 
orders ;  and  hence,  when  he  saw  his  efforts  unavailing, 
his  affection  was  transformed  into  violent  hatred.  At 
the  same  time,  this  refusal  on  the  part  of  the  young 
refugee  exasperated  against  him  all  his  family  and  all 
his  friends.  His  mother,  "  who  was  mider  the  power 
of  the  court,"  was  applied  to.  The  priests  sun-oimded 
her,  frightened  her,  and  persuaded  her,  that  her  son 


had  done  things  which  could  not  be  spoken  of  without 
horror.  The  mother,  in  despair,  wrote  her  son  a 
touching  letter,  as  he  expresses  it,  "  full  of  tears,"  in 
which,  in  the  most  heart-rending  manner,  she  depicted 
to  him  all  her  misfortunes.  ''Ah!  wretched  mother," 
said  she ;  "  ah !  unnatural  son :  cursed  be  the  breast 
that  nursed,  and  the  knees  that  bore  you  1" 

Poor  Toussaint  was  in  consternation.  AVhat  was 
he  to  do  ]  Return  to  France  he  could  not.  To  quit 
Bale  for  Zurich  or  Wittemberg,  out  of  the  reach  of  his 
family,  would  have  increased  their  sorrow.  Uicolam- 
padius  suggested  a  middle  course.  '•  Quit  my  house," 
said  he.  He,  in  fact,  did  quit  Gicolampadius  with  a 
lieart  fidl  of  sadness,  and  went  to  live  with  an  ignorant 
and  obscure  priest,  well  fitted  to  restore  confidence  to 
his  relations.  What  a  change  for  Toussaint !  It  wa.s 
only  at  table  he  met  his  host.  Tiiere  they  ceased 
not  to  debate  on  matters  of  faith  ;  but  as  soon  as  the 
meal  was  finished,  Toussaint  hastened  again  to  shut 
himself  up  in  his  chamber ;  and  there  alone,  free  from 
noise  and  dispute,  he  carefully  studied  the  Word  of 
God.  "The  Lord  is  my  witness,"  said  he,  "that  in 
this  valley  of  tears  I  have  only  one  wish,  aud  it  is  to 
see  the  kingdom  of  Christ  extended,  so  that  all  may 
with  one  mouth  glorify  God." 

One  circumstance  occurred  which  consoled  Tous- 
saint. The  enemies  of  the  Gospel  were  always  be- 
coming stronger  in  Metz.  At  his  urgent  request, 
Chevalier  d'Esch  set  out,  in  the  course  of  January', 
1525,  to  sti-engthen  the  evangelical  Christians  of  that 
town ;  he  crossed  the  forest  of  the  Vosges,  and  arrived 
at  the  place  where  Leclorc  had  yielded  up  his  life, 
carrying  with  hira  several  books,  with  which  ho  had 
been  furnished  by  Farel. 

Lorraine  was  not  the  only  quarter  to  which  the 
French  refugees  turned  their  eyes.  Chevalier  de  Coct 
received  a  letter  from  one  of  Farel's  brothers,  in  which 
the  state  of  Dauphiny  was  pourtrayed  in  the  darkest 
colours.  He  took  care  not  to  shew  it,  for  feai-  of 
alarming  the  weak ;  and  contented  himself  with  pray- 
ing earnestly  to  God  that  He  would  give  the  assist- 
ance of  His  mighty  hand.  In  December,  1524,  a 
messenger  from  Dauphiny,  named  Peter  A^errier, 
charged  with  commissions  for  Farel  aud  Aneraoud, 
arrived  on  horseback  at  Montbeliard.  The  chevalier, 
with  his  usual  vivacity,  resolved  to  return  to  France. 
•'If  Peter  has  brought  money,"  wrote  he  to  Farel, 
"  take  it.  If  he  has  brought  letters  to  me,  open  them, 
take  a  duplicate,  and  then  send  them.  Nevertheless, 
don't  sell  the  horse,  but  return  it ;  for,  perhaps,  I  may 
want  it.  I  am  induced  to  go  secretly  into  France  by 
the  way  of  Jacobus  Faber,  (Lefevre,)  and  Arandius. 
Write  me  your  opinion." 

Such  was  the  confidence  between  these  two  refugees; 
the  one  opened  the  letters  of  the  other,  aud  received 
his  money.  It  is  true  that  de  Coct  owed  thu'ty-six 
crowns  to  Farel,  w'hose  purse  w-as  always  open  to  his 
friends.  There  was  more  zeal  than  prudence  in  the 
knight's  desire  to  retiu'n  to  France.  He  had  too  little 
prudence  not  to  expose  himself  to  certain  death.  Of 
this  Farel,  doubtless,  convinced  him.  He  quitted 
Bale,  and  returned  to  a  small  town,  where  he  had 
"  great  hopes  of  having  the  German  language,  God 
assisting." 


392 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


Fare!  continued  to  evangelize  Montbeliard.  His 
soul  was  vexed  within  him  when  he  saw  the  majority 
of  the  inhabitants  addicted  to  the  worship  of  images. 
It  was,  according  to  Farel,  a  renewal  of  the  ancient 
idolatry  of  Paganism. 

Meanwhile,  the  exhortations  of  Qicolarapadius,  and 
the  fear  of  compromising  the  truth,  might  long  have 
restrained  him,  but  for  an  unforeseen  circumstance. 
One  day,  towards  the  end  of  February,  (it  was  the 
feast  of  St.  Anthony.)  Farel  was  walking  near  the 
banks  of  a  small  stream  which  crosses  the  town,  be- 
neath the  high  rock  on  which  the  citadel  stands,  when, 
on  arriving  at  the  bridge,  he  met  a  procession  which  was 
advancing,  repeating  prayers  to  St.  Anthony,  and  hav- 
ing at  its  head  two  priests,  with  an  image  of  the  saint. 
Farel  tlius  found  himself  suddenly  brought  face  to 
face  with  these  superstitions  without  having  sought 
them.  A  violent  struggle  took  place  in  his  soul.  Will 
he  give  way?  Will  he  hide  himself  ?  "Would  not  this 
be  cowardly  unbelief  ?  These  dead  images,  carried  on 
the  shoulders  of  ignorant  priests,  made  his  blood  boil. 
Farel  came  boldly  forward,  seized  the  holy  hermit 
out  of  the  arms  of  the  priests,  and  threw  it  from 
the  bridge  into  the  river.  Then,  turning  towards 
the  astonished  people,  he  exclaimed  :  "  Poor  idolaters  ! 
will  you  never  leave  off  your  idolatry?" 

The  priests  and  the  people  stood  still  in  amazement. 
A  religious  dread  seemed  to  chain  the  multitude.  But 
the  stupor  soon  ceased.  "The  image  is  drowning!" 
exclaimed  one  of  the  crowd ;  and  then  to  stupor  and 
silence  succeeded  transports  and  cries  of  fury.  The 
crowd  were  going  to  rush  on  the  sacrilegious  man, 
who  had  thrown  the  object  of  their  adoration  into  the 
water.  But  Farel,  we  know  not  how,  escaped  then- 
rage. 

There  is  ground,  we  are  aware,  to  regret  that  the 
reformer  allowed  himself  to  be  betrayed  into  this  act, 
which  rather  arrested  the  progress  of  the  truth.  No 
man  should  think  himself  entitled  violently  to  attack 
any  proceeding  by  public  authority.  Still,  in  tlie  zeal 
of  the  reformer,  there  is  something  more  noble  than 
that  cold  prudence  so  common  in  the  world,  which 
recoils  before  the  least  danger,  and  fears  to  make  the 
least  sacrifice  for  the  advancement  of  the  kingdom  of 
God.  Farel  was  not  ignorant  that  he  ran  the  risk  of 
losing  his  life,  like  Leclerc.  But  the  testimony  of  his 
conscience,  urging  him  to  seek  only  the  glory  of  God, 
took  away  all  his  fears. 

After  the  day  at  the  bridge,  a  characteristic  feature 
in  Farel's  history,  the  reformer  was  obliged  to  conceal 
himself,  and  soon  after  to  quit  the  town.  He  took 
refuge  in  Bale,  beside  Oicolampadius ;  but  he  always 
regarded  Montbeliard  with  the  affection  which  a  ser- 
vant of  God  invariably  feels  for  the  first-fruits  of  his 
ministry. 

At  Bale  sad  news  awaited  Farel.  He  was  a  fugi- 
tive, and  his  friend,  Anemond  de  Coct,  was  seriously 
iU.  Farel  immediately  sent  him  four  gold  crowns ; 
but  a  letter  from  Oswald  Myconius,  of  25th  March, 
informed  him  of  the  knight's  death.  "  Let  us  live," 
wrote  Oswald,  "  so  as  to  gain  the  rest  into  which  we 
hope  that  the  spirit  of  Anemond  has  already  entered." 

Thus  Anemond,  still  young,  full  of  activity,  full 
of  strength,   desirous  by  every  means  to   evangelize 


France, — qualities  which  made  him  worth  a  host, — 
descended  to  a  premature  grave.  God's  ways  are  not 
our  wai/s.  It  was  not  long  since,  near  Zurich,  also, 
another  knight,  Ulrich  von  Hiitten,  had  breathed  his 
last.  There  are  some  featui-es  of  resemblance  between 
the  German  and  the  French  knight ;  but  the  piety  and 
Christian  virtues  of  the  latter  place  him  far  above  the 
witty  and  dauntless  enemy  of  priests  and  monks. 

Shortly  after  the  death  of  Anemond,  Farel,  unable 
to  remain  at  Bale,  from  which  he  had  once  been 
banished,  repaired  to  Strasburg,  to  his  friends,  Capito 
and  Bueer. 

Thus  at  Montbeliard  and  at  Bale,  as  at  Lyons, 
blows  were  given  to  the  Eeformatiou.  Among  the 
most  devoted  combatants  some  were  carried  off  by 
death,  others  by  persecution  or  exile.  In  vain  did  the 
soldiers  of  the  Gospel  try  all  means  of  assault ;  they 
were  everywhere  repulsed.  But  if  the  forces  which 
they  had  concentrated — first  at  Meaux,  then  at  Lyons, 
and  then  at  Bale — were  successively  scattered,  there 
still  remained,  here  and  there,  combatants  who,  in 
Lorraine,  at  Meaux,  at  Paris  even,  struggled  more  or 
less  openly  to  maintain  the  Word  of  God  in  France. 
If  the  Reformation  saw  its  masses  broken,  there  still 
remained  isolated  soldiers.  It  was  against  them  that 
the  Sorbonne  and  the  parliament  were  going  to  turn 
tlieir  rage.  They  wished  that  on  the  soil  of  France 
there  should  not  remain  one  of  the  noble  men  who 
had  undertaken  to  plant  the  standard  of  Jesus  Christ ; 
and  at  this  time  unheard  of  misfortunes  seemed  to 
conspire  with  the  enemies  of  the  Reformation,  and 
lend  them  a  strong  hand  to  finish  their  work. 


(CHAPTER  XI\^ 

FraiiLis  takeu  at  Pavia— Reactiou  against  the  Reformation— Louisa  consults 
tlic  Sorbonne — Commission  against  the  Heretics— Bri^onuet  Denounced 
—Appeal  to  the  Assembled  Parliament— Fall— Reconciliation— Lefevre 
Accused — Condemnation  and  Flight — Lefevi-e  at  Strasburg — Louis  de 
Berijuin  Incarcerated  — Erasmus  Attacked  — Schuch  at  Nantz  — Uis 
UtartjTdom— Contest  with  Caroli— Sadness  of  Pavanne— His  Faggot 
Pile— A  Christian  Hermit— Concourse  at  Xotre  Dame. 

During  the  later  days  of  Farel's  residence  at  Mont- 
beliard, great  events  had  taken  place  on  the  theatre 
of  the  world.  Lannoy  and  Pescaire,  the  generals  of 
Charles  V.,  had  retreated  from  France  on  the  approach 
of  Francis  I.,  who  had  passed  the  Alps,  and  proceeded 
to  blockade  Pavia.  On  the  24th  July,  1525,  he  was 
attacked  by  Pescaire.  Bonnovet,  La  Tremouille,  La 
Palisse,  and  Lescure,  had  been  slain  near  the  king. 
The  Duke  d'Alencon,  the  husband  of  Margaret,  and 
first  prince  of  the  blood,  had  fled  with  the  rearguard, 
and  gone  to  die  of  grief  and  shame  at  Lyons.  Francis, 
thrown  from  his  horse,  had  surrendered  his  sword  to 
Charles  de  Lannoy,  viceroy  of  Naples,  who  received 
it  with  bended  knee.  The  King  of  France  was  the 
emperor's  prisoner.  The  captivity  of  the  king  seemed 
the  greatest  of  misfortunes.  "Of  everything  am  I 
stript  save  human  life,"  wrote  the  king  to  his  mother. 
But  no  one  felt  a  deeper  grief  than  Margaret.     The 


ACCUSATIONS  AND  MENACES. 


303 


glory  of  lior  country  compromised, — France  without 
a  monarch,  and  exposed  to  the  greatest  dangers, — her 
beloved  brother  the  captive  of  liis  proud  enemy, — 
her  husband  dishonoured  and  dead.  .     What 

woes!  But  she  had  a  Comforter;  and  wliile,  to 
console  her,  her  brother  repeated,  "All  is  lost  but 
lionom-,"  she  coidd  say  • 


France,  the  princes,  parliament,  and  the  people, 
were  in  consternation.  Soon,  as  in  the  lirst  centuries 
of  the  Church,  the  calamity  which  had  befallen  the 
country  was  imputed  to  the  Christians,  and  from  all 
quarters  fanatical  voices  demanded  blood  as  a  means 
of  warding  off  still  greater  misfortunes.  The  moment 
Wius  favourable.  It  was  not  enough  to  have  driven 
the  evangelical  Christians  from  the  strong  position 
which  they  had  taken  up.  It  was  necessary  to  take 
ailvantage  of  the  general  terror  to  strike  when  the 
iron  was  hot ;  and  to  make  this  opposition,  which  was 
becoming  so  formidable  to  the  papacy,  a  tabula  rasa 
throughout  the  whole  kingdom. 

At  the  head  of  tlio  conspiracy  of  these  clamourers 
was  Bcda,  Duchesne,  and  Lecouturier.  These  irre- 
concilable enemies  of  the  Gospel  flattered  themselves 
that  they  should  easily  obtain  from  the  public  terror 
the  victims  who  had  hitherto  been  refused  them. 
They  immediately  set  every  engine  at  work, — conver- 
sation, fanatical  sermons,  complaints,  menaces,  defa- 
matory writings,  in  order  to  stir  up  the  wrath  of  the 
realm,  and  especially  of  its  leaders.  They  threw  fire 
and  flames  at  tlieir  opponents,  and  overwhelmed  them 
with  the  most  scurrilous  abuse.  All  means  were 
good.  They  picked  out  some  words  here  and  there, 
left  out  what  might  have  explained  the  quotation,  sub- 
stituted their  own  expressions  for  those  of  the  teacher 
whom  they  impugned,  and  retracted  or  added,  accord- 
ing as  they  wished  to  blacken  their  adversaries.  This 
is  the  testimony  of  Erasmus  himself. 

Nothing  excited  their  rage  so  much  as  the  funda- 
mental doctrine  of  Christianity  aud  of  the  Reforma- 
tion,— salvation  by  grace.  "  While  I  see,"  said  Beda, 
"  three  men,  otherwise  possessed  of  such  penetrating 
genius,  Lefevre,  Erixsraus,  and  Luther,  uniting  in  a 
conspiracy  against  works  of  merit,  and  laying  the  whole 
weight  of  salvation  on  faith  only,  I  am  no  longer  as- 
tonished that  thousands  of  men,  seduced  by  these 
doctrines,  come  and  say,  '  Why  shoidd  I  fast  and 
make  a  mart>T  of  my  body?'  Let  us  banish  from 
France  this  odious  doctrine  of  grace.  There  is  in  this 
neglect  of  merit  a  fatal  delusion  of  the  devil." 

Thus  the  syndic  of  the  Sorbonne  attempted  to  combat 
faith.  He  was  to  find  support  in  a  debauched  court, 
and  another  portion  of  the  nation  more  respectable, 
but  not  less  op[)osed  to  the  Gospel,  I  mean  those  grave 
men  of  strict  morals,  who,  given  up  to  the  study  of  the 
law  and  legal  forms,  see  in  Christianity  only  a  system 
of  legislation  in  the  Church — oidy  a  moral  police ;  and 
who,  unable  to  reconcile  the  doctrine  of  the  spiritual 
incapacity  of  man,  the  new  birth,  aud  justification  by 
faith,  with  their  engrossing  ideas  of  jurisprudence, 
regard  them  as  fantastic  imaginations,  dangerous  to 
the  public  morals  and  the  prosperity  of  the  state. 
This  hostile  tendency  to  the  doctrine  of  grace  was 


manifested  in  the  sixteenth  century  by  two  very  diffe- 
rent extremes :  in  Italy  and  Poland  by  the  dogmas  of 
Socinns,  of  an  illustrious  family  of  lawyers  in  Sienna; 
and  in  France  by  the  persecuting  decrees  and  faggot 
pilos  of  the  Parliament. 

Parliament,  in  fact,  despising  the  great  truths  of  the 
Gospel  which  tlio  reformers  aniiouiicecl,  ;iiid  thinking 
thciuseK,  -  (.lili-e,l  io  ,],,  -oinelhinL'  in  tlie  fearful  cala- 
mity A\llieli   li:el   lM.|:lllrii    llie   ri:ili..ii.  ;nMr--.e(l  a  strong 

remoM>traiiee  in  i,nin-M  ..i'  Sa\iiy  on  llie  eomhictof  the 
government  in  regard  to  the  new  doctrine.  ''Heresy," 
it  said,  "  has  raised  its  head  in  the  midst  of  us ;  and 
the  king,  by  not  causing  scaffolds  to  be  erected  for 
it,  hiis  brought  down  on  the  kingdom  the  wrath  of 
heaven." 

At  the  same  time  the  ptdpits  resounded  with  com- 
plaints, menaces,  and  maledictions  ;  prompt  and  ex- 
emplary jiunishmont  was  demanded.  Martial  Mazurier 
held  a  distinguished  place  among  the  preachers  of 
Paris,  and  seeking,  by  his  violence,  to  make  his  old 
connections  with  the  adherents  of  the  Reformation  to 
be  forgotten,  declaimed  against  the  "hidden  disciples 
of  Luther."  "Know  you,"  exclaimed  he,  "the  rapidity 
of  this  poison  ?  Know  you  its  strength  ?  Ah  !  let  us 
tremble  for  France.  It  acts  with  inconceivable  energy; 
aud  iu  a  short  time  can  put  thousands  of  souls  to 
death." 

It  was  not  dirt'icult  to  excite  the  regent  against  the 
adherents  of  the  Reformation.  Her  daughter  Margaret, 
the  great  personages  of  the  court,  Louisa  of  Savoy  her- 
self— Louisa,  always  so  devoted  to  the  Roman  pontiff 
— were  denounced  by  certain  fanatics  as  favouring 
Lefevre,  Berquin,  and  other  innovators.  Had  she 
not  read  their  tracts  and  translations  of  the  Bible? 
The  queen  mother  wished  to  clear  herself  of  these  in- 
sulting suspicions.  She  had  already  sent  her  confessor 
to  the  Sorbonne  to  ask  by  what  means  heresy  might 
be  extii-pated.  "  The  detestable  doctrine  of  Luther," 
she  had  caused  be  said  to  the  faculty,  "  is  every  day 
gaining  uew  adherents."  The  faculty  had  smiled  on 
receiving  this  message.  Previously  their  representa- 
tions had  been  refused  to  be  listened  to,  and  now  they 
were  humbly  begged  to  call  a  council  on  the  affair. 
At  length  they  had  in  their  power  that  heresy  which 
they  had  long  been  desirous  to  stifle.  Noel  Beda  was 
appointed  to  reply  to  the  regent.  The  fanatical  syndic 
did  so.  "  Since  the  sermons,  discussions,  aud  books, 
in  which  we  have  so  often  opposed  this  heresy,  have 
not  had  the  effect  of  arresting  it,  an  ordinance  should 
be  passed  prohibiting  all  the  writings  of  the  heretics. 
Force  aud  constraint  must  be  employed  against  the 
2)ersoii,  even,  of  these  false  teachers.  Those  who  resist 
the  light  must  be  subdued  to  it  by  punishment  and 
terror." 

Louisa  had  not  even  waited  for  their  answer. 
Scarcely  had  Francis  I.  fallen  into  the  hands  of  Charles 
v.,  than  she  had  -written  to  the  pope  to  ask  his  pleasin-e 
in  regard  to  heretics.  It  was  of  importance  to  the 
politics  of  Louisa  to  secure  the  favour  of  a  pontiff  who 
was  able  to  raise  Italy  against  the  conqueror  of  Pavia, 
and  she  was  ready  to  purchase  it  at  the  price  of  a  little 
French  blood.  The  pope,  delighted  at  being  able  to 
exercise  severity,  in  the  kingdom  of  his  most  Christian 
majesty,  against  a  heresy  which  he  was  unable   to 


HISTORY  OP  THE  REFORMATION. 


arrest  either  iu  Switzerland  or  Gormauj-,  immediately 
ordaiucd  that  the  Inquisition  should  be  lutroduccd  into 
France,  and  addressed  a  brief  to  the  parliament.  At 
the  same  time,  Duprat,  whom  the  pontiff  had  made  a 
cardinal,  and  to  whom  he  had  given  the  archbishopric 
of  Sens,  and  a  rich  abbey,  sought  to  return  the  fa- 
vour of  the  court  of  Eome  by  displaying  indefatigable 
hatred  against  the  heretics.  Thus  the  pope,  the  regent, 
the  doctors  of  the  Sorbonne,  the  parliament,  the  chan- 
cellor, the  ignorant  and  fanatical  portion  of  the  nation, 
all  together  and  at  once,  conspired  the  ruin  of  the 
Gospel  and  the  death  of  its  confessors. 

The  parliament  took  the  lead.  Nothing  less  than 
the  first  body  in  the  kingdom  was  required  to  carry  on 
the  campaign  against  this  doctrine.  Besides,  as  the 
public  safety  was  concerned,  was  it  not  their  business? 
The  parliament,  then,  carried  away  by  holy  zeal  and 
fervour  against  these  innovators,  issued  a  decree,  or- 
daining, "  that  the  Bishop  of  Paris  and  other  bishops 
should  be  held  bound  to  lend  their  assistance  to 
Messieurs  Philip  Pot,  president  of  requests,  and 
Andrew  Verjus,  councillor,  and  Messieurs  "William 
Duchesne,  and  Nicolas  Lcclerc,  doctors  in  theology, 
in  framing  and  conducting  the  process  against  such  as 
should  be  found  infected  with  the  doctrine  of  Luther. 

"  And  in  order  that  it  might  appear  that  these  com- 
niissaries  were  more  under  the  authority  of  the  Chris- 
tian Church  than  the  parliament,  his  holiness  was 
pleased  to  send  his  brief,  (20th  May,  1525,)  approving 
of  the  said  named  commissioners. 

'•Following  upon  this,  all  who  -were  declared  Lu- 
therans by  the  bishops  or  judges  of  the  Church,  de- 
puted to  this  effect,  were  given  over  to  the  secular  arm, 
that  is  to  say,  to  the  said  parliament,  which  therefor 
condemned  them  to  be  burned  alive."  So  says  a  manu- 
script of  the  period. 

Such  was  the  dreadful  inquest  appointed  during  the 
captivity  of  Francis  I.,  against  the  evangelical  Chris- 
tians of  France,  for  the  sake  of  public  safety.  It  was 
composed  of  two  laymen  and  two  ecclesiastics.  One 
of  the  latter  was  Duchesne,  next  to  Beda  the  most 
fanatical  doctor  in  the  company.  Shame  had  not 
allowed  them  to  put  their  leader  upon  it,  but  his  lu- 
ll ucuce  was  thus  only  better  secured. 

Thus  the  machine  was  wound  up  •  its  springs  were 
in  good  order,  and  every  blow  which  it  struck  woidd 
be  mortal.  The  question  was,  against  whom  should 
the  first  attack  be  directed?  Beda,  Duchesne,  Leclerc, 
assisted  by  Philip  Pot,  president,  and  Andrew  Verjus, 
councillor,  deliberated  on  this  important  question. 
Was  there  not  the  Count  of  Moutbruu,  the  old  friend 
of  Louis  XII.,  the  ex-ambassador  to  Komc,  Briconnet, 
bishop  of  Meaux?  The  committee  of  public  safety, 
met  at  Paris  in  1525,  thought,  that  by  beginning  with 
a  man  of  his  high  rank  they  woidd  be  sure  to  spread 
terror  over  the  kingdom.  This  reason  was  sufficient, 
and  this  venerable  bishop  was  served  with  a  charge. 

Far  from  allowing  himself  to  be  intimidated  by  the 
persecution  of  1523,  Brifonnet  had  persisted,  as  well 
as  Lef  evre,  in  opposing  the  popular  superstitions.  The 
more  eminent  his  place  in  the  Church  and  in  the  State, 
the  more  fatal  his  example ;  and  therefore  the  more 
necessary  to  obtain  from  him  a  striking  recantatiou, 
or  inflict  a  blow  more  striking  still.     The  committee 


of  inquest  hastened  to  collect  the  charges  against  him. 
They  stated  the  kind  reception  which  the  bishop 
had  given  to  heretics  ;  that  eight  days  after  the  guar- 
dian of  the  Cordeliers  had  preached  at  Meaux,  iu 
the  church  of  St.  Martin,  conformably  to  the  instruc- 
tions of  the  Sorbonne,  to  re-establish  sound  doctrine, 
Bri9onnet  himself  had  mounted  the  pulpit,  had  replied 
to  him,  and  treated  the  preacher  and  the  other  Corde- 
liers, his  colleagues,  as  false  prophets  and  hypocrites. 
Not  content  with  this  public  affront,  he  had  made  his 
official  prepare  a  charge,  summoning  the  guardian  to 
appear  in  person.  ...  It  would  even  appear  from 
a  manuscript  of  the  time,  that  the  bishop  had  gone  still 
farther,  and  that,  in  the  autumn  of  1524,  accompanied 
by  Lefcvre  of  Etaples,  he  had  travelled,  during  three 
niontlis,  over  his  diocese,  and  burnt  all  the  images, 
except  the  crucifix.  This  bold  procedure,  which  would 
shew  that  Bri9onuet  combined  great  hardihood  with 
much  humility,  cannot,  if  it  is  true,  subject  him  to  the 
blame  attached  to  other  destroyers  of  images.  When 
he  reformed  these  superstitious,  he  was  at  the  head  of 
the  Church,  and  acted  within  the  sphere  of  his  rights 
and  duties. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  Brl9ounet  was  to  have  guilt  enough 
in  the  eyes  of  the  enemies  of  the  Gospel.  He  had  not 
only  attacked  the  Church  in  general,  he  had  attacked 
the  Sorbonne  itself,  that  company  whose  supreme  law 
was  its  own  glory  and  preservative.  Accordingly  it 
was  delighted  on  hearing  of  the  inquest  directed 
against  its  enemy.  John  Bochart,  one  of  the  most 
celebrated  advocates  of  the  time  supporting  the  charge 
against  Bri9onuet  before  the  Parliament,  exclaimed, 
raising  his  voice ;  "  Against  the  Faculty  neither 
Bishop  of  Meaux,  nor  any  other  individual,  can  raise 
the  head  or  open  the  mouth.  Neither  is  the  Faculty 
under  auy  obligation  to  go  aud  dispute,  to  caiTy  and 
state  its  reasons  before  the  said  bishop,  who  must  not 
resist  the  wisdom  of  this  holy  company,  which  he  must 
consider  to  be  aided  by  God." 

In  consequence  of  this  requisition,  the  Parliament, 
on  the  3d  October,  1525,  issued  a  decree,  in  which, 
after  ordering  the  personal  apprehension  of  all  those 
who  were  specified,  it  ordained  that  the  bishop  should 
be  interrogated  by  James  Menager  and  Andrew  Verjus, 
councillors  of  the  court,  on  the  facts  with  which  he 
was  charged. 

This  decree  of  the  Parliament  terrified  the  bishop. 
Briconnet,  ambassador  at  Rome  to  two  kings — Bri9on- 
net,  a  bishop  and  prince,  the  friend  of  Louis  XII.  and 
Francis  I.,  about  to  be  subjected  to  the  interrogatives 
of  two  councillors  of  the  court !  .  .  .  He  who  had 
hoped  that  God  would  kindle  in  the  heart  of  the  king, 
his  mother,  and  his  sister,  a  flame  which  would  com- 
municate itself  to  all  the  kingdom,  saw  the  kingdom 
turning  against  himself,  in  order  to  extinguish  the 
flame  which  he  had  received  from  heaven.  The  king 
is  a  prisoner ;  his  mother  is  moving  at  the  head  of  the 
enemies  of  the  Gospel ;  and  Margaret,  dismayed  at  the 
disasters  which  have  fallen  on  France,  dares  not  turn 
aside  the  blows  which  are  going  to  strike  her  dearest 
friends,  and  first  of  all  that  spiritual  father  who  has  so 
often  consoled  her ;  or  if  she  dares,  she  has  not  the 
power.  Recently  she  had  written  Bri9onnet  a  letter 
full  of  pious  ejaculations:  "Oh!  may  the  poor  dead 


THE  FALL  OF  BRICONNET. 


305 


heart  feel  some  spark  of  the  love  in  which  it  longs  to 
burn  to  ashes  !"  Now  there  was  literally  a  question  of 
Leinj;  burnt  to  ashes.  This  mystic  language  was  now 
out  of  place.  He  who  would  confess  liis  faitli,  must 
brave  the  scaffold.  The  poor  bishop,  who  had  hoped 
so  nnich  to  sec  an  evangelical  Reformation  spread 
gradually  and  peacefully,  was  in  fear  and  trembling 
wiien  he  saw  that  it  must  now  be  purchased  at  the 
expense  of  life.  The  dreadful  thought,  perluips,  had 
never  before  occurred  to  him,  and  he  started  back  in 
anguish  and  dismay. 

Bri(,'onnet,  liowevcr,  had  still  a  hope  tliat  he  would 
be  permitted  to  appear  before  the  assembled  chambers 
of  parliament, — tliis  being  due  to  a  personage  of  his 
rank, — and  in  tiiat  august  and  numerous  court  he 
would  tiud  (he  wiis  sure  of  it)  generous  hearts,  who 
would  understand  his  language,  and  undertake  his 
defence.  He,  accordingly,  petitioned  the  court  to 
grant  him  tliis  indulgence.  But  his  enemies  had  like- 
wise foreseen  what  the  issue  of  such  an  audience 
might  be.  Had  not  Luther  been  seen  at  Worms  be- 
fore the  Germanic  diet,  shaking  the  most  resolute 
hearts  .'  Eager  to  keep  away  every  chance  of  escape, 
tliey  did  their  work  so  well,  that  the  parliament,  by  a 
decree  of  the  25th  October,  152.5,  confirming  the  for- 
mer one,  refused  Bri^onnet's  application. 

Here,  then,  was  the  Bishop  of  Meaux  sent  away, 
like  the  most  obscure  priest,  before  Masters  James 
Jlenagcr  and  Andrew  N'erjus.  Tliese  two  lawyei-s, 
docile  instruments  of  the  Sorbonue,  could  not  be 
moved  by  tlie  elevated  views  to  which  the  whole 
chamber  might  have  been  sensible.  They  were  mat- 
ter-of-fact men.  ILis  the  bishop  been,  or  has  he  not 
been,  at  variance  with  the  company?  This  was  all 
they  asked.  Briconuet's  coudemuatiou  was,  therefore, 
certain. 

While  the  sword  was  thus  suspended  by  the  parlia- 
neut  over  the  head  of  the  bishop,  the  monks,  priests, 
and  doctors,  wei-e  not  losing  their  time.  They  per- 
ceived that  a  recantation  by  Brifonnet  would  serve 
then-  purpose  better  even  than  his  execution.  His 
death  would  inliame  all  those  who  shared  his  faith ; 
but  his  apostacy  woidd  be  a  very  great  discourage- 
ment. To  work,  then!  He  was  visited  and  urged. 
Martial  Mazurier.  in  particular,  laboured  to  make  him 
fall,  as  he  luvd  fallen  himself;  and  he  was  not  with- 
out arguments  whicli  might  seem  specious  to  Brifon- 
net.  Was  he  willing  to  leave  his  place?  Might  he 
not,  by  remaining  in  the  Church,  use  his  influence 
over  the  king  and  the  court,  to  do  good,  of  which  it 
was  in)])ossible  to  foresee  the  extent  ?  What  would 
become  of  his  old  friends  when  he  was  no  longer  in 
power?  How  much  might  his  resistance  compromise 
a  reform  which,  in  order  to  be  salutary  and  durable, 
must  operate  by  the  legitimate  influence  of  the  clergy? 
How  many  would  be  shocked  by  his  resistance  to  the 
Church  ?  how  many,  on  the  contrary,  should  he  attract 
by  yielding?  .  .  .  There  was  a  wish  like  his  own 
for  reform.  Everything  was  insensibly  leading  to  it. 
At  court,  in  the  city,  in  the  provinces,  everywhere, 
there  was  an  advance.  Could  he  feel  glad  at  heart 
while  annihilating  this  fair  ])rospect  ?  .  .  In  reality 
he  was  not  asked  for  any  sacrifice  of  doctrine,  but 
only  to  submit  to  the  order  established  in  the  Chui'ch. 


Was  it  well,  when  France  was  overwhelmed  witli  so 
many  disasters,  to  stir  up  new  troubles?  "In  tlie 
name  of  religion, — in  tiie  name  of  j'our  country, — in 
tlie  name  of  your  friends, — in  the  name  of  the  Ecfor- 
mation  itself, — yield."  By  such  sophisms  the  noblest 
causes  m'c  lost. 

Meanwhile  every  one  of  these  words  made  some 
impression  on  the  bishop.  The  tempter,  who  would 
have  made  our  Saviour  fall  in  the  desert,  j)rcsented 
himself  under  specious  forms,  and  Bri9onnet,  instead 
of  exclaiming  with  his  Miister,  "  Get  thee  behind  mc, 
.Satan,"  listened,  received,  weighed  these  discourses. 
After  this  it  was  all  over  with  his  fidelity. 

Brifonuet  )iad  never,  like  a  Farel  or  a  Luther, 
entered  fully  into  the  movement  which  was  then  re- 
generating the  Church.  Tliere  was  in  him  a  certain 
mystical  tendency,  whicli  enfeebles  the  mind,  and 
deprives  it  of  the  firmness  and  courage  which  a  faith 
founded  on  the  Word  of  God  alone  can  give.  The 
o-oss,  which  he  bclioved  to  take  uj),  in  order  to  follow 
.Jesus  Christ,  was  too  licavy.  Shaken,  frightened, 
stupified,  distracted,  he  tottered  and  stumbled  over  the 
stone  which  was  craftily  tlirowu  in  the  way.  .  .  , 
He  fell.  Instead  of  throwing  himself  into  the  arms  of 
Jesus  Christ,  he  threw  himself  into  those  of  Mazurier, 
and  by  a  shameful  recantation  sullied  the  glory  of  a 
uoble  "fidelity. 

Thus  fell  Bri9onnet,  the  friend  of  Lefevre  and  of 
Margaret:  thus  the  first  supporter  of  the  Gospel  in 
France  denied  the  glad  tidings  of  grace,  in  the  guilty 
thought,  that  if  he  remained  faithful  to  them  he  would 
lose  his  influence  on  the  Church,  the  court,  and  France. 
But  Avhat  was  presented  to  him  as  the  salvation  of  his 
country,  became,  perhaps,  its  ruin.  What  would  have 
happened  if  Bri^onnet  had  had  the  coiu-agc  of  a  Luther? 
If  one  of  the  first  bishops  of  France,  dear  to  the  king, 
dear  to  the  people,  had  mounted  the  scaffold,  and  had 
there,  like  the  little  ones  in  the  estimation  of  the  world, 
sealed  the  truth  of  tiie  C4ospel  by  a  courageous  confes- 
sion and  a  Christian  death,  might  not  France  have 
been  moved,  and  the  blood  of  the  Bishop  of  Meaux, 
becoming,  hke  that  of  the  Polycarps  and  Cyprians,  the 
seed  of  the  Church,  might  not  those  countries,  so 
illustrious  in  so  many  respects,  have  been  seen  emerg- 
ing from  the  long  spiritual  darkness  in  which  they  are 
still  plunged  ? 

Bri9onnet,  as  a  matter  of  form,  underwent  the  inter- 
rogatory before  Masters  James  Menager  and  Andrew 
Verjus,  who  declared  that  he  had  sufficiently  excul- 
pated himself  from  the  crime  with  which  he  was 
charged.  He  was  then  brought  to  repentance,  and 
assembled  a  synod,  in  which  he  condemned  the  books 
of  Luther,  retracted  all  that  he  had  taught  contrary  to 
the  doctrine  of  the  Church,  re-established  tlie  worship 
of  saints,  laboured  to  bring  back  those  wlio  had  aban- 
doned the  worship  of  Rome,  and  wishing  to  leave  no 
doubt  as  to  his  reconciliation  with  the  pope  and  the 
Sorbonne,  he,  on  the  eve  of  Corpus  C/tristi,  held  a 
solemn  fast,  and  ordered  a  pompous  procession,  in 
which  he  appeared  in  person,  giving  pledges  of  his 
faith  by  his  magnificence  and  all  sorts  of  devotion. 

Brifonuet  is,  perhaps,  the  most  celebrated  instance 
of  backsliding  which  the  Reformation  presents.  No- 
where do  we  see  a  man  so  far  engaged  in  the  Refor- 


300 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


mation,  and  so  sincerely  pious,  turn  so  suddenly  against 
it.  Still  it  is  necessary  to  form  a  distinct  idea  both  of 
his  character  and  his  fall.  Briconnet  was  on  the  side 
of  Rome,  and  Lefevre  was  on  the  side  of  the  Reforma- 
tion. They  are  both  of  the  jiiste-milieu,  and  properly 
do  not  belong  to  any  of  the  two  parties ;  but  the  one 
is  of  the  centre-droit,  the  other  of  the  centre-gauche. 
The  doctor  of  Etaples  inclines  towards  the  Word,  the 
Bishop  of  Meaux  towards  the  hierarchy ;  and  when 
these  two  men  who  approximate  each  other  are  obliged 
to  decide,  the  oue  arrays  himself  with  Rome,  and  the 
other  with  Jesus  Christ.  At  the  same  time,  we  can- 
not believe  that  Briconnet  was  altogether  faithless  to 
the  convictions  of  his  faith.  Even  after  his  recanta- 
tion the  Roman  doctors  never  had  full  conttdence  in 
him.  He  acted  as  did,  at  a  later  period,  the  Bishop  of 
Cambray,  to  whom  he  has  more  than  one  feature  of 
resemblance.  He  thought  he  could  submit  externally 
to  the  pope,  while  he  continued  inwardly  subject  to 
the  Divine  Word.  This  is  a  weakness  incompatible 
with  the  principles  of  the  Reformation.  Brifonnet 
was  oue  of  the  heads  of  the  mystic  or  quietest  school 
in  France,  and  we  know  that  one  of  its  iirst  principles 
always  was,  to  accommodate  itself  to  the  church  in 
which  it  happened  to  be,  be  that  church  what  it  might. 

The  guilty  fall  of  Brifonnet  went  to  the  heart  of 
his  old  friends,  and  was  the  sad  forerunner  of  those 
deplorable  apostacies  which,  in  another  age,  the  spirit 
of  the  world  so  often  obtained  in  France.  This  per- 
sonage who,  in  regard  to  the  Reformation,  seemed  to 
hold  the  reins  in  his  hand,  was  suddenly  thrown  out 
of  the  chariot ;  and  the  Reformation  was  thenceforth 
to  pursue  its  course  in  France  without  head,  without 
human  guide,  in  humility  and  obscurity.  But  the  dis- 
ciples of  the  Gospel  raised  their  head,  and  thenceforth 
looked  with  still  firmer  faith  to  the  heavenly  Head, 
whose  fidelity  they  knew  could  not  be  shaken. 

The  Sorbonne  triumphed :  a  great  stride  had  been 
made  towards  the  annihilation  of  the  Reformation  in 
France.  It  was  necessary  to  hasten  without  longer 
delay  to  another  victory.  Lefe^Te  was  the  first 
after  Briconnet.  Accordingly,  Beda  had  immediately 
directed  his  attacks  against  this  distinguished  teacher, 
by  publishing  against  him  a  book  containing  such  gross 
calumnies,  that,  as  Erasmus  expresses  it,  "  Smiths  and 
cobblers  might  have  pointed  to  them  with  their  finger." 
What  especially  excited  his  wrath  was  the  doctrine 
of  justification  by  faith,  which  Lefevre  had  first  pro- 
claimed in  Christendom.  This  was  the  point  to  which 
Beda  incessantly  returned, — the  article  which,  accord- 
ing to  him,  subverted  the  Church.  "  What !"  said  he, 
"  Lefevre  aflirms  that  whosoever  ascribes  to  himself 
the  power  of  obtaining  salvation,  will  perish  ;  while  he 
who,  divesting  himself  of  all  strength,  throws  himself 
entirely  into  the  arms  of  Jesus  Christ,  will  be  saved. 
.  .  .  Oh  !  what  heresy  thus  to  preach  the  impotence 
of  merit !  .  .  .  What  infernal  error ! — what  per- 
nicious doctrine  of  the  devil !  Let  us  oppose  it  with 
all  our  might !" 

The  doctor  of  Etaples  was  immediately  subjected  to 
the  persecuting  machinery  which  produced  retraction 
or  death.  They  hoped  to  see  Lefevre  sharing  the  fate 
either  of  the  poor  wool-carder  Leclerc,  or  of  the  dis- 
tinguished bishop  Briconnet.     His  accusation  was  soon 


drawn  up,  and  a  decree  of  the  parliament  (28th 
August,  1525)  condemned  nine  propositions  drawn 
from  his  commentaries  on  the  Gospel,  and  classed  his 
translation  of  the  Holy  Scriptures  among  the  prohi- 
bited books. 

This  was  only  the  prelude.  Of  this  the  learned 
doctor  was  aware.  From  the  first  symptom  of  perse- 
cution he  had  felt  that,  in  the  absence  of  Francis  I., 
he  would  fall  under  the  attacks  of  his  enemies,  and 
that  the  moment  was  come  to  observe  the  command 
of  the  Lord:  When  they  persecute  you  in  this  city,  flee 
ye  into  miother.  Lefevre  quitted  Meaux,  where,  since 
the  fall  of  the  bishop,  he  had  drunk  bitterness,  and 
seen  all  his  activity  paralyzed;  and  withdrawing  from 
Iiis  persecutors,  he  shook  off  the  dust  of  his  feet  against 
them,  "not  to  wish  them  any  ill,  but  as  a  sign  of  the 
ills  which  await  them ;  for  he  says  somewhere,  in  the 
same  way,  as  this  dust  is  shaken  from  our  feet,  arc 
they  shaken  from  the  face  of  the  Lord." 

The  persecutors  had  missed  their  victim ;  but  they 
consoled  themselves  with  thinking  that  France,  at 
least,  was  delivered  from  the  parent  of  heretics. 

Lefevre,  a  fugitive,  arrived  under  a  borrowed  name 
at  Strasburg.  He  at  once  frankly  joined  the  friends 
of  the  Reformation.  How  great  his  joy  at  hearing 
that  Gospel  publicly  taught  which  he  had  been  the 
first  to  bring  forward  in  the  Church  !  "  Here  is  my 
faith!"  This,  indeed,  was  what  he  had  wished  to  be 
able  to  say.  Gerard  Roussel,  one  of  those  evangelical 
men  who,  like  the  doctor  of  Etaples,  did  not  attain  to 
a  complete  emancipation,  had  also,  like  him,  been 
obliged  to  quit  France.  They,  together,  attended  the 
lectures  of  Capito  aud  Bucer;  with  these  faithful 
teachers  they  had  special  interviews ;  and  the  rumour 
even  spread  that  they  had  been  sent  for  this  purpose 
by  Margaret,  the  king's  sister.  But  reverence  for  the 
ways  of  the  Lord  occupied  Lefevre  more  than  polemics. 
Turning  his  eye  upon  Christendom,  filled  with  astonish- 
ment at  the  gi-eat  things  which  were  then  taking  place, 
his  heart  stirred  with  gratitude  and  full  of  expectation, 
he  fell  on  his  knees,  and  prayed  the  Lord  "  to  perfect 
what  he  theu  saw  commencing." 

A  joyful  meeting  awaited  him  at  Strasburg.  His 
son  Farel,  whom  persecution  had  separated  from  him 
for  nearly  three  years,  had  arrived  there  before  him. 
The  old  doctor  of  the  Sorbonne  found  in  this  young 
pupil  a  man  in  the  full  vigour  of  life — a  Christian  in 
the  full  energy  of  faith.  Farel  respectfully  clasped  the 
wrinkled  hand  which  had  guided  his  first  steps,  and 
felt  an  iudesci-ibable  joy  in  again  finding  his  father 
in  an  evangelical  town,  and  in  seeing  him  surrounded 
with  believing  men.  They  together  attended  the  pure 
lessons  of  illustrious  teachers  ;  they  communicated  at 
the  Lord's  Supper,  administered  agreeably  to  the  insti- 
tution of  Jesus  Christ,  and  received  touching  evidence 
of  the  charity  of  their  brethren.  "Do  you  remem- 
ber," said  Farel  to  him,  "  what  you  once  said  to  me 
when  we  were  both  plunged  in  darkness?"  "Wil- 
liam, God  will  renovate  the  world,  and  you  shall  see 
it.  .  .  .  Here  is  the  commencement  of  what  you 
then  spoke  to  me." — "Yes,"  replied  the  old  man, — 
"  yes,  God  is  renewing  the  world.  Oh,  my  son  !  con- 
tinue boldly  to  pi-each  the  holy  Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ !" 

Lefevre,   doubtless    from   an   excess    of   prudence, 


LOUIS  DB  BERQUIN  INCARCERATED. 


■wished  to  remain  at  Strasbiirg  incognito,  and  had 
taken  the  name  of  Anthony  reregriuc ;  while  Rous- 
sel  took  that  of  Sohiin.  Bnt  the  illustrious  old  man 
could  not  be  concealed.  Tiie  whole  town,  even  tiie 
very  children,  soon  bowed  respectfully  to  the  old 
French  doctor.  He  did  not  live  by  himself,  but  at 
the  house  of  Capito,  with  Farel,  Roussel,  Vedaste, — 
whom  everybody  praised  for  his  modesty, — and  one 
Simon,  a  recent  Jewish  convert.  The  houses  of 
Capito,  CEcolarapadius,  Zwiiigle,  and  Luther,  were 
thus  a  kind  of  inns.  Such  was  the  streugtii  of  bro- 
therly love  in  those  times.  There  were  many  other 
Frenchmen  in  this  town  ou  the  banks  of  the  Rhine, 
and  they  here  formed  a  church,  in  whicii  Farel  often 
preached  tlie  doctrine  of  salvation.  This  Christian 
society  alleviated  tiieir  exile. 

While  tliese  brethren  thus  enjoyed   the 
asylum  which  brotherly  charity  had  open-  .-^ 

cd  to  them,  those  who  were  at  Paris  or 
in  otlier  parts  of  France  were  exposed  to 
great  dangers.  Brifonnet  had  recanted; 
Lefevre  had  left.  This,  doubtless,  war; 
something  to  the  Sorbonne;  but  they  w.r 
still  waiting  for  the  punishments  -w  1 
they  had  advised.  .  .  .  Tiiei  e  w  i 
individual  who  irritated  them  still  ni 
than  Brifonnet  and  Lefevre.  I  his  wai 
Louis  de  Berquin.  Tlie  gentlemim  of  Ar- 
tois,  of  a  more  decided  character  than  hi-  11 
two  masters,  let  no  opportunity  p  i-- 
assailing  the  theologians  and  monk-, 
unmasking  their  fanaticism.  Re-,idiiig  \i\ 
turns  at  Paris  and  in  the  countr) ,  he  col- 
lected the  works  of  Erasmus  and  Luther, 
and  translated  them.  lie  also  him-elt  com- 
posed controversial  writings.  In  short,  he 
defended  and  propagated  the  new  doctrines 
with  all  the  zeal  of  a  new  con\ert  He 
was  denounced  by  the  Bishop  of  Araieus. 
Beda  supported  tlie  complaint;  and  the  parliament 
caused  him  to  be  thrown  into  prison.  "This  one,"  it 
is  said,  "will  not  escape  like  Bri90nnet  or  Lefevre." 
In  fact,  he  was  kept  under  bars  and  bolts.  In  vain 
did  the  prior  of  the  Carthusians,  and  others  besides, 
implore  him  to  offer  an  apology.  He  declared  dis- 
tinctly tliat  he  would  not  yield  in  a  single  point. 
"  Then,"  says  a  chronicler,  "  it  seemed  that  nothing 
remained  but  to  take  him  to  the  fire." 

Margaret,  in  consternation  at  what  had  happened, 
trembled  at  the  thought  of  seeing  Berquin  dragged  to 
the  scaffold,  which  the  bishop  had  so  disgracefully 
escaped.  She  dared  not  to  penetrate  into  his  prison; 
but  she  tried  to  send  him  some  words  of  consolation ; 
and  it  may  have  been  for  him  the  princess  made  the 
touching  complaint  of  the  prisoner,  when  addressing 
the  Lord,  he  exclaims : 

"Oh  !  surety,  safety,  access,  retUgc  sure. 
Of  the  afllicted.  Judge  of  the  orphan  poor. 
Treasure  of  consolations  that  endure  ! 
These  btirs  of  iron,  drawbridge,  portal  g-ate. 
By  which  I  here  am  held  in  sad  estate. 
Exclude  all  fHends  who  sorrow  at  my  fate ; 
But  here  or  there,  where'er  my  prison  be. 
No  bar,  no  lock,  can  keep  me  far  from  thee. 
For  by  my  side  thou  art  perpetually." 


But  Margaret  did  not  confine  herself  to  this.  She 
immediately  wrote  to  her  brother,  soliciting  him  to 
interfere  in  Berquin's  behalf;  happy  if  she  could  in 
time  deliver  him  from  the  hatred  of  his  enemies. 

While  waiting  for  their  victim,  Beda  resolved  to 
make  the  enemies  of  the  Sorbonne  and  the  monks 
tremble  by  humbling  the  most  celebrated  of  them. 
Erasmus  had  attacked  Luther;  but  no  matter.  If 
they  succeed  in  destroying  Erasmus,  d  fortiori,  the 
ruin  of  Farel,  Luther,  and  their  associates,  will  be  in- 
evitable. Tlie  surest  way  of  striking  an  object  is  to 
take  aim  beyond  it.  When  once  a  foot  was  on  the 
neck  of  the  philosopher  of  Rotterdam,  who  should 
escape  the  vengeance  of  Rome?  Already,  Lecoutu- 
rier,  commonly  called,  from  the  translation  of  his 
name   into  Latin,  Siitur,  had  taken  the  first  step  by 


launching  at  Erasmus  from  his  solitary  Carthusian  cell  a 
most  violent  philippic,  in  which  he  called  his  opponents 
theologasters,  and  little  asses,  and  imputed  to  them  scan- 
dals, heresies,  and  blasphemies.  Handling  subjects 
which  he  did  not  at  all  understand,  he  reminded  one, 
says  Erasmus  cuttingly,  of  the  old  adage :  "  X'e  siitor 
ultra  crepidam — Let  the  cobbler  only  mend  his  shoes." 
Beda  hastened  to  the  support  of  his  colleague.  He 
told  Ei'asmus  not  to  write  any  more,  and  himself  tak- 
ing the  pen,  which  he  ordered  the  first  writer  of  the 
age  to  lay  down,  he  made  a  selection  of  all  the  calum- 
nies which  the  monks  had  invented  against  the  distin- 
guished philosopher,  translated  them  into  French,  and 
made  a  book  of  them,  which  he  circulated  at  court, 
and  in  the  city,  trying  to  arouse  all  France  against 
him.  This  book  was  the  signal  of  attack.  From  all 
quarters  an  assault  was  made  on  Erasmus.  Nicholas 
d'Ecmond,  an  old  Carmelite  of  Lorraine,  every  time 
he  mounted  the  pulpit,  exclaimed :  "  There  is  no  dif- 
ference between  Erasmus  and  Luther,  unless  it  be  that 
Erasmus  is  the  greater  heretic ;"  and  wherever  the 
Carmelite  was,  at  table,  travelling  by  land  or  water, 
he  called  Erasmus  a  heresiarch  and  falsifier.  The 
faculty  of  Paris,  moved  by  these  brawlers,  prepared  a 
censure  of  this  illustrious  author. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


Erasmus  was  iu  cousternation.  Such,  then,  is  the 
result  of  all  his  managemeut,  and  even  of  his  hostility 
against  Luther.  More  than  auy  other  had  he  placed 
himself  in  the  breach ;  and  it  was  now  wished  to  treat 
him  like  a  stepping-stone,  and  trample  him  under  foot, 
the  more  readily  to  reach  the  common  enemy.  He 
revolts  at  the  thought.  He  suddenly  wheels  round, 
and  has  no  sooner  attacked  Luther  in  front,  than  he 
turns  on  the  fanatical  doctors,  who  had  struck  him 
from  behind.  Never  was  his  correspondence  more 
active.  Looking  all  around  him,  his  quick  eye  imme- 
diately discovers  in  what  hands  his  lot  is  placed.  He 
hesitates  not.  He  will  carry  his  complaints  and  cries 
to  the  foot  of  the  Sorbonne,  the  parliament,  the  king, 
the  emperor  himself.  Addressing  those  of  the  theo- 
logians of  the  Sorbonne,  from  whom  lie  still  hoped 
for  some  impartiality,  he  says :  "  Who  has  caused  this 
immense  fire  of  Luther?  who  has  stirred  it  up  but 
Beda  with  his  violence  ?  In  war,  a  soldier  who  has 
behaved  well  receives  reward  from  his  general ;  but 
all  the  reward  I  am  to  receive  from  you,  the  generals 
of  the  war,  is  a  book  of  calumnies  by  the  Bodas  and 
the  Lecouturiers !" 

"What I"  he  wrote  to  the  parliament  of  Paris;  '"I 
was  combating  these  Lutherans,  and  while  fighting  a 
fierce  battle  by  oi'ders  of  the  emperor,  the  pope,  and 
other  princes,  to  the  peril  even  of  my  life,  Lecouturier 
and  Beda  attack  me  from  behind  with  furious  libels. 
Ah !  had  not  fortune  carried  off  from  us  King  Francis, 
I  would  have  besought  that  avenger  of  the  muses 
against  this  new  invasion  of  the  barbarians.  But  now 
it  is  for  you  to  lay  an  arrest  on  this  injustice !"     .     .     . 

No  sooner  did  he  descry  the  possibility  of  getting  a 
letter  to  reach  the  king,  than  he  wrote  him  also.  His 
penetrating  eye  coidd  see  in  those  fanatical  doctors  of 
the  Sorbonne  the  germs  of  the  league — the  predecessors 
of  those  three  priests  who  were  one  day  to  establish 
the  sixteen  against  the  last  of  the  Yalois.  His  genius 
gave  a  prediction  to  the  king  of  the  crimes  and  mis- 
fortunes which  his  descendants  were  to  know  but  too 
well.  "They  put  faith  in  front,"  said  he;  "but  they 
aim  at  tyranny,  even  over  princes.  They  march  with 
a  sure  step,  though  underground.  Should  the  prince 
refuse  to  be  at  their  beck  in  everything,  they  will 
forthwith  declare  that  he  may  be  deposed  by  the 
Church, — that  is,  by  some  false  monks,  and  some 
false  theologians,  conspiring  against  the  public  peace." 
Erasmus,  in  writing  to  Francis  I.,  could  not  have 
touched  a  better  string. 

Lastly,  to  make  still  more  sure  of  escaping  from  his 
enemies,  Erasmus  invoked  the  protection  of  Charles  V. 
himself.  "  Invincible  emperor,"  said  he,  "  men  who, 
under  pretext  of  religion,  wish  to  procure  a  triumph 
for  their  belly  and  their  despotism,  are  raising  horrible 
clamour  against  me.  I  fight  under  your  banners  and 
those  of  Jesus  Christ.  Let  your  wisdom  and  your 
power  give  peace  to  the  Christian  world."     .     .     . 

Thus  the  prince  of  literature  made  application  to  all 
the  great  ones  of  the  world.  The  danger  was  averted 
from  his  head ;  the  princes  of  the  world  interposed,  and 
the  vultures  were  obliged  to  abandon  a  prey  which 
they  already  thought  within  their  talons.  They  then 
turned  tlieir  eyes  in  another  direction,  seeking  other 
victims,  and  did  not  miss  them. 


It  Avas  in  Lorraine  that  blood  ^vas  first  again  to  flow. 
From  the  first  days  of  the  Reformation  there  was  a 
copartnery  of  zeal  between  Paris  and  the  country  of 
the  Guises.  If  Paris  reposed,  Lorraine  set  to  work, 
and  then  Paris  began  anew,  waiting  till  new  supplies 
reached  Nancy  or  Metz.  The  first  blows  seemed  to 
fall  upon  an  excellent  man,  one  of  the  refugees  of 
B;"de,  a  friend  of  Farel  and  Toussaiut.  At  Metz,  the 
Chevalier  d'Esch  had  been  unable  to  escape  the  sus- 
picious of  the  priests.  It  being  known  that  he  was 
connected  with  the  evangelical  Christians,  he  was  made 
prisoner  at  Pont-a-Mousson,  five  miles  from  Metz,  on 
the  banks  of  the  Moselle.  This  news  caused  great 
grief  to  the  French  refugees,  and  also  to  the  Swiss 
themselves.  "  O  heart  full  of  innocence ! "  exclaimed 
CEcolampadius ;  "  I  have  confidence  in  the  Lord,  that 
He  will  preserve  this  man  for  us,  whether  in  life  to 
announce  His  name  as  a  preacher  of  righteousness, 
or  in  death  to  confess  Him  as  a  martyr."  But, 
at  the  same  time,  CEcolampadius  disapproved  of  the 
vivacity,  the  impetuosity,  the  zeal — in  his  opinion 
zeal  without  prudence^— which  distinguished  the  French 
refugees.  "  I  wish,"  said  he,  "  that  my  dear  French 
lords  would  not  hasten  to  return  into  their  country 
imtil  they  have  carefully  examined  all  things,  for  the 
devil  is  everywhere  laying  his  snares.  Nevertheless, 
may  they  obey  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  and  may  this  Spirit 
never  abandon  them." 

In  fact,  there  was  ground  to  tremble  for  the  cheva- 
lier's fate.  Tiiere  was  double  hatred  in  Lorraine. 
Friar  Bonaventure  Eenel,  provincial  of  the  Cordeliers, 
confessor  of  Duke  Anthony  the  Good,  a  forward  mau 
of  indifferent  morals,  allowed  this  feeble  prince,  who 
reigned  from  1508  to  1544,  great  liberty  in  his  plea- 
sures, and  persuaded  him,  almost  as  a  kind  of  pen- 
nance,  to  destroy  all  innovators  without  mercy.  This 
prince,  so  well  counselled  by  Renel,  used  often  to  say : 
"It  is  enough  for  each  to  know  the  Eater  and  Ace 
Maria;  the  greatest  doctors  are  the  cause  of  the  great- 
est troubles." 

Towards  the  end  of  1524,  it  was  learned  at  the  court 
of  the  duke,  that  a  pastor  named  Schuch  was  preach- 
ing a  new  doctrine  in  the  town  of  St.  Hippolyte, 
situated  at  the  foot  of  the  Vosges.  "  Let  them  return 
to  order,"  said  Anthony  the  Good;  "if  not,  I  march 
against  the  town  and  fill  every  place  with  fire  and 
blood." 

The  faithful  pastor  resolved  to  sacrifice  himself  for 
his  sheep ;  he  repaired  to  Nancy,  where  the  prince  re- 
sided. Immediately  on  his  arrival  he  was  cast  into  a 
pestilential  prison,  under  the  guard  of  coarse  and  cruel 
men.  Friar  Bonaventure  then,  at  length,  saw  the 
heretic  in  his  prison.  He  presided  at  the  inquest,  and 
addressed  him  as  "Heretic!  Judas!  devil!"  Schuch, 
calm  and  collected,  made  no  answer  to  those  insults ; 
but  holding  in  his  hand  his  Bible,  all  covered  with 
notes  which  he  had  written  in  it,  he  meekly  and  forcibly 
confessed  Jesus  Christ  crucified.  Suddenly  becoming 
animated,  he  stood  up  boldly,  raised  his  voice,  as  if 
under  an  impulse  from  the  Spirit  above,  and  looking 
the  judges  iu  the  face,  denounced  to  them  dreadful 
judgments  from  God. 

Friar  Bonaventure  and  his  companions,  amazed  and 
transported  with  rage,  rushed  upon  him  with  loud  cries. 


MARTYRDOM  OF  SCHUCH  AXD  PAVANNE. 


tore  the  Bible,  ia  which  lie  road  his  denunciations,  out 
of  his  hands ;  and,  like  mad  dogs,  says  the  chronicler, 
"  unable  to  gnaw  at  his  doctrine,  they  burnt  it  in  their 
convent." 

The  whole  court  of  Lorraine  rung  with  the  obsti- 
nacy and  audacity  of  the  minister  of  St.  Hippolyte ; 
and  the  prince,  curious  to  hear  the  heretic,  resolved  to 
be  present  at  his  la^t  appearance, — but  in  secret,  con- 
cealed from  every  eye.  The  interrogatories  having 
been  put  in  Latin,  he  conld  not  comprehend  them;  but 
he  was  struck  at  seeing  the  minister  witli  a  firm  coun- 
tenance, apparently  neither  vanquished  nor  astonished. 
Anthony  the  ^ood,  astonished  at  this  obstinacy,  rose 
np,  and,  on  going  away,  said :  "  Why  debate  any 
more?  He  denies  the  sacrament  of  the  mass;  let 
sentence  be  pronounced  upon  him."  Schuch  was  im- 
mediately condemned  to  be  burnt  alive.  On  learning 
his  sentence,  he  raised  his  eyes  to  heaven,  and  said 
calmly :  "  /  icas  glad  when  then  mM  unto  me,  Let  «.<  (jo 
into  the  house  of  the  Lord." 

On  the  19tli  August,  the  whole  town  of  Xancy  was 
in  movement.  The  bells  were  ringing  the  death  of  a 
heretic.  The  sad  procession  began  to  move.  The  road 
lay  iu  front  of  the  convent  of  the  Cordeliers,  who,  joy- 
ous, and  on  the  alert,  had  met  at  the  gate.  At  the 
moment  when  Schuch  appeared,  Father  Bonaventure, 
pointing  to  the  images  sculptured  on  the  front  of  the 
convent,  exclaimed :  "  Heretic !  give  honour  to  God, 
His  mother,  and  the  saints  I"  "O  hypocrites  I"  re- 
plied Schuch,  looking  up  at  those  pieces  of  wood  and 
stone,  "C4od  will  destroy  you,  and  bring  your  impos- 
tures to  light."     .     .     . 

The  martyr  having  arrived  at  the  pl.ace  of  execution, 
the  fu'st  thing  done  was  to  burn  his  books  iu  his  pre- 
sence ;  then  he  was  summoned  to  recant ;  but  he  re- 
fused, saying:  '-Thou,  O  God,  hast  called  me,  and  will 
confirm  me  imto  the  end."  He  theu  began  to  repeat 
aloud  the  fifty-first  Psalm:  '■•  Have  mercy  upon  me,  0 
God,  according  to  thi/  loring-h'ndnesi."  After  mounting 
the  scaffold,  he  continued  to  repeat  the  ps.ilm  until 
the  smoke  and  flames  choked  his  voice. 

Thus  the  persecutors  of  France  and  Lorraine  saw 
their  triumphs  again  begun.  At  length  attention  was 
paid  to  their  advice.  The  heretical  ashes  thrown  to 
the  winds  at  Nancy,  were  a  challenge  to  the  capital  of 
France.  ^\Tiat !  were  Beda  and  Lecouturier  to  be  the 
last  to  shew  their  zeal  for  the  pope  ?  Let  flames  answer 
flames,  and  soon  let  heresy,  swept  from  the  soil  of  the 
kingdom,  be  driven  entirely  beyond  the  Rhine! 

Before  succeeding,  Beda  had  to  fight  a  battle — h.ilf 
in  earnest,  half  in  mockery — with  one  of  those  men 
whom  the  struggle  of  the  jiapacy  is  only  a  game  of  in- 
tellect, not  a  matter  of  the  heart. 

Among  the  learned  men  whom  Brifonnet  had  drawn 
into  his  diocese,  was  a  doctor  of  Sorbonne,  named 
Peter  Caroli,  a  vain,  giddy  man,  as  full  of  blaster  and 
chicaneiy  as  Beda  himself.  Caroli  saw  in  the  new 
doctrine  the  means  of  producing  an  effect,  and  of 
thwarting  Beda,  whose  ascendency  he  could  not  en- 
dure. Accordingly,  on  his  return  from  Jleaux  to 
Paris,  he  made  a  great  sensation  by  eaiTving  into  all 
the  pulpits  what  was  called  •'  the  new  mode  of  preach- 
ing." An  incessant  struggle  now  commenced  between 
the  two  doctors.     It  was  blow  for  blow,  and  wile  for 


wile.  Beda  summons  Caroli  before  the  Sorbonne,  and 
Caroli,  to  repay  the  honour,  hands  him  over  to  the 
Olficiality.  The  faculty  proceeds  with  its  inquest,  and 
Caroli  intimates  an  appeal  to  the  parliament.  He  is 
interdicted  from  taking  his  turn  in  the  chair,  and  he 
preaches  in  all  the  churches  of  Paris.  He  is  expressly 
excluded  from  all  the  puljjits,  and  he  publicly  expounds 
the  Psalms  in  the  College  of  Cambray.  The  faculty 
prohibits  him  to  contiime  this  exercise,  and  he  asks 
permission  to  finish  the  exposition  of  the  twenty-second 
Psalm,  which  he  had  commenced.  At  length  his  re- 
quest is  refused,  and  he  placards  the  college  gates  with 
the  following  notice:  "Peter  Curoli,  desirous  to  ohei) 
the  orders  of  the  sacred  faculty,  ceases  to  teach.  He 
will  resume  his  lectures  (when  it  shall  jilease  God)  at  the 
verse  where  he  .^topped:  Tiiev  pierced  my  hands  and 
Jiv  FEET."  Thus  Beda  had  at  last  found  his  match. 
Had  Caroli  defended  the  truth  in  earnest,  the  fire 
would  soon  have  done  him  justice;  but  he  had  too 
profane  a  spirit  to  be  put  to  death.  How  was  it  pos- 
sible to  execute  a  man  who  put  his  judges  out  of 
countenance?  Neither  the  officiality,  nor  the  parlia- 
ment, nor  the  council,  could  ever  judge  his  cause 
definitively.  Two  men  like  Caroli  Avould  have  woni 
out  the  activity  of  a  Beda;  but  the  Reformation  did 
not  see  two. 

This  annoying  contest  ended,  Beda  set  himself  to 
more  serious  affairs.  Happily  for  the  syndic  of  Sor- 
bonne, there  were  men  who  furnished  better  subjects 
for  persecution  than  Caroli.  It  is  true,  Brieounet, 
Erasmus,  Lefevre,  and  Berquin,  had  escaped  him ; 
but  since  he  cannot  reach  great  personages,  he  will 
content  himself  with  humble  ones.  The  poor  youth, 
James  Pavauue,  since  his  abjuration  at  Christmas, 
1524,  had  always  been  sighing  and  weeping.  He  was 
seen  with  a  melancholy  air,  his  eye  fixed  on  the  ground, 
inwardly  groaning,  and  keenly  reproaching  himself  for 
having  denied  his  Saviour  and  his  God. 

Pavanne  was  no  doubt  one  of  the  most  modest  and 
inoffensive  of  men.  But  no  matter.  He  had  been  at 
Meaux  at  this  time  ;  no  more  was  required.  The  cry 
was  raised :  "  Pavanne  has  relapsed ;  The  dog  has  re- 
turned to  his  vomit,  and  the  sow  that  was  trashed  to  her 
wallowing  in  the  mii-e."  He  was  forthwith  seized,  cast 
into  prison,  and  taken  before  the  judges.  This  was 
the  very  thing  that  young  blaster  James  longed  for. 
He  felt  comforted  so  soon  as  he  was  in  irons,  and  re- 
covered strength  to  make  a  fuU  confession  of  Jesus 
Christ.  The  cruel  smiled  to  see  that  this  time  nothing 
could  deprive  them  of  their  victim, — no  recantation, 
no  flight,  no  powerful  protector.  Neither  the  mildness 
of  the  young  man,  nor  his  candour  and  courage — no- 
thing could  soften  his  adversaries.  He  looked  at  them 
with  love ;  for,  in  throwing  him  into  chains,  they  had 
restored  him  his  tranquility  and  joy.  But  this  tender 
look  only  hardened  their  hearts  the  more.  His  accu- 
sation was  quickly  drawn  up,  and  the  Place  de  Greve 
soon  saw  a  scaffold  erected,  on  which  Pavanne  died 
joyfully,  by  his  example  strengthening  all  who  in  this 
gi-eat  city  openly  or  secretly  believed  in  the  Gospel  of 
Jesus  Christ. 

This  was  not  enough  for  the  Sorbonne.  If  those  in 
humble  life  are  sacrificed,  quality  must  be  redeemed 
by  number.     The  flames  of  the  Place  de  Greve  have 


400 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


spread  terror  over  Paris  and  France ;  but  a  new  pile, 
kindled  in  some  other  place,  will  double  the  terror.  It 
will  be  spoken  of  at  court,  in  colleges,  and  the  work- 
shops of  the  people.  Such  examples  will  shew  better 
than  all  edicts,  that  Louisa  of  Savoy,  the  Sorbonne, 
and  the  parliament,  are  determined  to  sacrifice  every 
remaining  heretic  to  the  aimtheraas  of  Rome. 


In  the  forest  of  Livry,  three  leagues  from  Paris,  not 
far  from  the  place  where  stood  the  ancient  abbey  of 
the  Augustines,  lived  a  hermit,  who,  having  met  in  his 
wanderings  with  some  individuals  from  Meaux,  had 
received  the  Gospel  into  his  heart.  The  poor  hermit 
had  found  himself  very  ricli  in  his  ixtirement,  when  one 


day,  along  with  his  coarse  loaf  which  public  chai-ity 
gave  him,  he  had  brought  back  with  him  Jesus  Christ 
and  His  grace.  Thereupon  he  understood  how  it  was 
better  to  give  than  reouivc     He    ^\■^■n[.  from  house  to 


house  in  the  surrounding  villages,  and  had  no  sooner 
opened  the  doors  of  the  pool  peasants,  whom  he  visited 
in  their  humble  huts,  than  he  spoke  to  them  of  the 
Gospel,   of   the    complete    pardon    which    it    gave    to 
agonized  sonls,  and  which  was  better  than  ab- 
solutions.    The  good  hermit  of  Livry  was  soon 
known  in  the  environs  of  Paris.    He  was  sought 
aftei  in  his  poor  hermitage,  and  became  a  gentle 
and  fci  \  ent  missionary  to  the  poor  of  the  dis- 
tiict 

A  1  eport  of  the  doings  of  the  new  evangelist 
■«  tN  not  long  of  reaching  the  ears  of  the  Sor- 
li  nne  and  the  tribunals  of  Paris.  The  hermit 
u  IS  ap])i  ehended,  dragged  from  his  hermitage, 
ti  )m  \u>  forest,  and  from  the  places  which  he 
d  lily  t]  a\  ersed,  thrown  into  a  dungeon  in  the 
great  city  which  he  had  always  shunned,  there 
tiled,  convicted,  and  condemned  to  be  "  exemp- 
laiily  punished  with  the  punishment  of  slow 
tiic" 

It  was  resolved,  in  order  to  make  the  ex- 
ample more  striking,  that  he  should  be  burnt 
di\o  m  the  square  of  Notre  Dame,  in  front 
of  this  celebrated  basilisk  and  majestic  symbol 
of    Rom  in    Catholicism.      The    whole    clergy 


MARTYRDOM  OF  THE  HERMIT  OF  LIVRY. 


nsscmblcd,  and  prcat  pom|)  was  displayed  as  on  the 
most  solenui  festivals.  The  wish  would  have  been 
to  a.sscmblo  all  Paris  aronnd  tlii'^  pilo,  "ihe  <;reat  bell 
of  tlic  teni|)le  of  ^'otre  Dame  riii'jiti","  >.i\ 


'■  with  full  peal,  to  warn  the  whole  i)eople  of  the  town." 
In  fact,  the  people  thronged  into  the  sfpiare  through 
all  tlic  streets  that  opened  into  it.     The  deep  tones  of 

bell  arrested  the  workman  in  liis  shun,  the  scholar 


NOTRE     DAME 


in  his  studies,  the  merchant  in  his  traffic,  and  the 
soldier  in  his  idleness.     The  whole  square  was  already 


CATHEDRAL,  NOYON. 


filled  by  an  immense  crowd,  while  the  people  still  kept 
tlocking.  The  hermit,  arrayed  in  the  clothing  assigned 
to  obstinate  heretics,  his  head  and  feet  bare,  had  been 
brought  before  the  gates  of  the  cathedral.  Calm,  firm, 
and  collected,  his  only  answer  to  the  exhortations  of 
the  confessors,  who  presented  the  crucifi.v  to  him,  was 
to  declare  that  his  hope  was  solely  in  the  pardon  of 
God.  The  doctors  of  the  Sorboune,  who  were  in  the 
front  seat  of  the  spectators,  seeing  his  constancy,  and 
the  effect  which  it  produced  upon  the  people,  cried 
aloud,  "  He  is  damned :  they  are  taking  him  to  hell- 
fire!"  Meanwhile  the  large  bell  continued  to  peal,  and 
its  sounds,  stunning  the  ears  of  the  people,  increased 
i  the  solemnity  of  this  sad  festival.  At  last  the  bell 
1  was  silent,  and  the  martyr,  having  replied  to  the  last 
questions  of  his  enemies,  that  he  wished  to  die  in  the 
faith  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  was,  as  his  sentence 
bore,  "burnt  with  a  slow  fire."  Thus  died  peacefully 
on  the  pavement  of  Notre  Dame,  amid  the  shouts  and 
agitation  of  a  whole  people,  under  the  towers  reared 
by  the  piety  of  Louis  the  Young,  one  whose  name  even 
histoi-y  has  not  preserved — "  the  Hermit  of  Livry." 


CHAPTER  XV. 

A  Scholar  of  Noyon— Charactet  of  Young  Calvin— Early  Education— He  is 
devoted  to  Tlicology-"The  Bishop  gives  him  the  Tonsure— He  quits 
Noyon  because  of  the  Plague— The  Reformation  creates  new  Languages 
—  Persecution  and  Terror — Toussaint  put  into  Prison— Persecution 
gives  new  strength- Death  of  Du  Blet,  Merlin,  and  Papillon— God 
saves  the  Church— Project  of  Margaret— Departure  for  Spain. 

While  in  France  men  were  thus  putting  the  confessors 
2d 


402 


HISTORY  OF  THE  EEFOEMATION. 


of  Jesus  Christ  to  death,  God  was  preparing  more 
powerful  confessors.  Beda,  in  dragging  to  execution 
a  modest  scholar,  a  humble  hermit,  almost  thought  he 
was  dragging  with  him  the  whole  Reformation.  But 
Providence  has  resources  which  the  world  knows  not. 
The  Gospel,  like  the  fabulous  bird,  carries  in  it  a  prin- 
ciple of  life  which  the  flames  cannot  consume.  It  rises 
from  its  ashes.  It  is  often  at  the  very  moment  when 
the  storm  is  at  its  heiglit,  when  the  thunder  seems  to 
Lave  struck  down  the  truth,  and  when  the  darkness  of 
night  covers  it,  that  a  sudden  gleam  shines  forth  and 
announces  a  gi-eat  deliverance.  At  this  time,  when  all 
human  powers  in  France  were  arming  for  the  total  de- 
struction of  the  Reformation,  God  was  preparing  an 
instrument,  feeble  in  appearance,  which  should  one  day 
maintain  His  rights  and  defend  His  cause  with  an  in- 
trepidity more  than  human.  Amid  the  persecution  and 
faggot  piles  which  succeed  and  press  close  on  each 
other  ever  since  Francis  was  the  prisoner  of  Charles, 
let  us  cast  an  eye  on  a  child  who  should  afterwards  be 
called  to  place  himself  at  the  head  of  a  great  army  in 
the  holy  wars  of  Israel. 

Among  the  inhabitants  of  the  town  and  the  colleges 
of  Paris  who  heard  the  sounds  of  the  great  bell,  was  a 
young  student  of  sixteen,  of  middle  stature,  of  a  pale 
complexion,  with  piercing  eyes,  and  an  animated  ex- 
pression, betokening  an  intellect  of  uncommon  sagacity. 
His  dress,  remarkable  at  once  for  its  cleanness  and 
perfect  simplicity,  indicated  order  and  modesty.  This 
young  man,  named  John  Cauvin,  or  Calvin,  was  then 
studying  at  the  college  of  La  Marche,  under  Mathurin 
Cordier,  a  regent  celebrated  for  his  probity,  his  erudi- 
tion, and  the  talents  he  had  received  for  instructing 
youth.  Brought  up  in  all  the  superstitions  of  tlic 
papacy,  the  scholar  of  Noyon  was  blindly  submissive 
to  the  Church,  devoted  with  docility  to  its  observances, 
and  persuaded  that  the  heretics  richly  deserved  the 
flames  which  had  consumed  them.  The  blood  which 
then  flowed  in  Paris  only  served  in  his  eyes  to  magnify 
the  crime  of  heresy.  But  thougli  naturally  of  a  timid 
temper,  which  he  himself  has  called  soft  and  pusillani- 
mous, he  had  that  integrity  and  generosity  of  heart 
which  dispose  the  possessor  to  sacrifice  everything  for 
the  convictions  once  acquired.  Accordingly,  in  vain 
was  his  youth  struck  with  these  frightful  spectacles,  in 
vain,  on  the  Place  de  Greve  and  the  square  of  Notre 
Dame,  did  murderous  flames  consume  the  faithful  dis- 
ciples of  the  Gospel ;  the  remembrance  of  their  horrors 
could  not  hinder  him  from  one  day  entering  this  new 
path,  where  apparently  he  could  only  expect  imprison- 
ment and  the  scaffold.  In  the  character  of  young 
Calvin  already  appeared  traits  which  announced  what 
he  was  to  become.  The  strictness  of  his  morals  was  a 
prelude  to  the  strictness  of  his  doctrine,  and  iu  tlio 
student  of  sixteen  might  have  been  recognised  a  man 
who  would  take  in  earnest  whatever  he  should  receive, 
and  who  would  require  from  others  what  he  himself 
felt  it  quite  simple  to  do.  Quiet  and  grave  during  the 
lectures,  iu  the  hours  for  recreation  taking  no  part  in 
the  amusements  and  follies  of  his  fellow-students,  but 
keeping  himself  apart ;  impressed  with  horror  at  sin, 
he  occasionally  censured  their  irregularities  sharply, 
and  even  with  some  degree  of  bitterness.  Accordingly 
a  canon  of  Noyon  assures  us  that  his  fellows  had  sur- 


named  him  the  accimttivc.  He  was  among  them  the 
representative  of  conscience  and  duty,  so  far  was  he 
from  being  what  some  slanderers  have  wished  to  make 
him.  The  pale  hue,  the  piercing  eye  of  the  student  of 
sixteen,  already  inspired  his  comrades  with  more  re- 
spect than  the  black  gown  of  their  teachers ;  and  this 
child  of  Picardy,  of  little  stature  and  timid  air,  who 
came  daily  to  take  his  seat  on  the  benches  of  the 
college  of  La  Marche,  was  even  now,  without  thinking 
it,  by  the  gravity  of  his  speech  and  deportment,  a 
master  and  a  reformer. 

It  was  not  in  these  respects  only  that  the  boy  of 
Noyon  was  above  his  fellow-students.  His  great 
timidity  sometimes  prevented  him  from  manifesting 
the  hatred  which  he  felt  for  vanity  and  vice ;  but  he 
was  already  devoting  to  study  the  whole  strength  of 
his  intellect  and  his  will.  On  seeing  him,  one  might 
have  had  presentiment  of  a  man  who  would  wear  out 
his  life  in  exertion.  He  comprehended  everything 
with  inconceivable  facility;  he  ran  in  his  studies, 
when  his  fellows  only  crept  on  slowly;  and  engraved 
deeply  on  his  young  genius  what  others  took  much 
time  to  learn  superficially.  Hence  his  masters  were 
obliged  to  take  him  out  of  the  class,  and  make  him 
Iiass  by  himself  to  new  studies. 

Among  his  fellow-students  were  the  young  De  Mom- 
mors,  belonging  to  the  first  nobility  of  Picardy.  John 
Calvin  was  intimately  connected  with  them,  especially 
with  Claude,  who  was  at  a  later  period  abbot  of  St. 
Eloi,  and  to  whom  he  dedicated  his  "  Commentary  on 
Seneca."  Calvin  had  gone  to  Paris  in  the  company  of 
these  young  nobles.  His  father,  Gerard  Cauvin,  a 
notary  apostolic,  procurator-fiscal  of  the  county  of 
Noyon,  secretary  to  the  bishopric,  and  procurator  of 
the  chapter,  was  a  judicious  and  able  man.  By  his 
talents  he  had  obtained  those  offices  which  were  sought 
by  the  first  families,  and  gained  the  esteem  of  all  the 
gentlemen  of  the  district,  iu  particidar  of  the  illus- 
trious family  of  Mommor.  Gerard  lived  at  Noyou. 
He  had  married  a  young  lady  of  Cambray,  of  remark- 
able beauty,  and  retiring  piety,  named  Jean  Lefranti. 
She  had  already  given  him  a  son,  named  Charles,  when 
on  the  10th  July,  1509,  she  had  a  second  son,  who  was 
named  John,  and  baptized  in  the  church  of  St.  Gode- 
bert.  A  third  sou,  named  Anthony,  who  died  in  early 
life,  and  two  daughters,  completed  the  family  of  the 
procurator-fiscal  of  Noyon. 

Gerard  Cauvin,  living  in  intimate  relation  with  the 
heads  of  the  clergy  and  nobles  of  the  province,  wished 
his  son  to  receive  the  same  education  as  those  of  the 
best  families.  John,  who  had  shewn  precocious  talents, 
was  brought  up  with  the  sons  of  the  house  of  Mommor. 
He  was  like  one  of  themselves,  and  received  the  same 
lessons  as  young  Claude.  In  tliis  family  he  learnt  the 
first  elements  of  literature  and  life,  and  had  thus  a 
higher  culture  than  that  which  he  seemed  destined  to 
receive.  At  a  later  period  he  was  sent  to  the  college 
of  Capettes,  founded  in  the  town  of  Noyon.  The  boy 
had  few  recreations.  Sternness,  which  was  one  of  the 
features  in  the  character  of  the  son,  was  in  the  father 
also.  Gerard  brought  him  up  strictly.  John,  from 
liis  most  tender  years,  behoved  to  bend  under  the  in- 
flexible rule  of  duty.  He  was  early  trained  to  this, 
and  in  this  way  the  influence  of  the  father  counter- 


CALVIN'S  EAKLY  EDUCATION. 


noted  thivt  of  tlic  family  of  Moinmnr.  Calvin,  of  a 
timid  disposition,  and  somewhat  rustic  nature,  as  lie 
himself  describes  it,  rendered  still  more  timid  by  the 
severity  of  his  father,  shunned  the  splendid  apart- 
ments of  his  patrons,  and  loved  to  dwell  alone  in  tlic 
shade.  Ilis  young  soul  was  thus  formed  iu  retirement 
for  great  thoughts.  It  appears  that  he  sometimes  went 
to  I'ont  I'Evciiue,  near  Noyon,  where  his  grandfather 
dwelt  in  a  cottage,  and  where  other  relations  besides, 
who  afterwards  changed  their  name  from  hatred  to  tlio 
hcresiarch,  then  gave  a  kind  welcome  to  the  son  of  the 
procurator-fiscal.  But  young  Calvin's  time  was  espe- 
cially devoted  to  study.  While  Luther,  who  was  to 
act  upon  the  people,  wiis  brought  up  as  a  child  of  the 
])e(jple,  Calvin,  who  was  to  act  chiclly  as  a  theologian, 
as  a  thinker,  and  to  become  the  legislator  of  the  reno- 
vated Church,  received  from  infancy  a  more  liberal 
education. 

At  an  early  period  a  spirit  of  piety  was  disclosed  in 
the  heart  of  the  child.  An  aiitlior  relates,  that  they 
had  accustomed  him,  when  a  child,  to  pr.ay  in  the  open 
air,  under  the  vault  of  heaven ;  and  this  contributed  to 
keep  a  feeling  of  the  Divine  presence  alive  in  his  heart. 
But  though  Calvin  may  from  infancy  have  heard  the 
voice  of  God  in  his  heart,  there  was  not  a  person  in 
Noyou  more  strict  than  he  iu  the  observance  of  eccle- 
siivstical  rules.  Hence  Gerard,  struck  with  this  dis- 
position, conceived  the  design  of  devoting  his  son  to 
theology.  This  prospect,  doubtless,  contributed  to 
give  his  soul  that  grave  form,  that  theological  cha- 
racter, which  distinguished  him  at  a  later  period. 
His  mind  was  of  a  description  to  receive  strong  im- 
pressions, and  to  familiarize  itself  from  youth  witii  the 
most  elevated  thoughts.  The  report  that  he  was  at 
this  time  one  of  the  boys  of  the  choir,  has  no  founda- 
tion, according  to  tlie  testimony  of  his  enemies  them- 
selves. But  they  confidently  assert,  that  when  ho  was 
a  boy  he  was  seen  in  processions  bearing  a  sword  with 
a  cross  guard,  to  represent  a  cross, — a  presage,  they 
add,  of  what  he  was  one  day  to  be.  The  servant  of 
the  Loi'd  says  in  Isaiah  :  The  Lord  has  made  >n>/  mouth 
like  a  sliai-p  sword.     The  same  may  be  said  of  Calvin. 

Gerard  was  poor.  The  education  of  his  sou  cost 
him  much,  and  he  desired  to  attach  him  to  the  Church 
irrevocably.  The  Cardinal  of  Lorraine  had,  at  the 
age  of  fourteen,  been  appointed  coadjutor  to  the 
Bishop  of  Mctz.  It  was  then  common  to  give  offices 
and  ecclesiastical  revenues  to  children.  Alphonso  of 
Portugal  was  made  a  cardinal  at  eight,  by  Leo  X. ; 
and  Odot  of  Chatilon,  by  Clement  VII.,  at  eleven. 
At  a  later  period,  the  celebrated  mother  Angelica,  of 
Tort  Royal,  was  appointed  coadjutress  of  the  monas- 
tery at  seven.  Gerard,  who  died  a  good  catholic,  was 
in  the  good  graces  of  the  Bishop  of  Noyon,  Messirc 
Charles  de  Ilaugest,  and  his  vicai-s-general.  Accord- 
ingly, the  chaplain  of  Gesine  having  resigned  his 
office,  the  bishop,  on  the  21st  May,  1521,  gave  the 
living  to  John  Calvin,  who  was  then  about  twelve. 
This  was  communicated  to  the  chapter  twelve  days 
after.  On  the  eve  of  Corpus  Christi,  the  bishop,  in 
due  form,  cut  the  hair  of  the  boy;  and  by  this  cere- 
mony of  the  tonsure,  John  entered  the  clerical  order, 
and  became  capable  of  being  admitted  to  holy  orders, 
and  of  possessing  benefice  without  residence. 


Thus  Calvin  was  called,  as  a  child,  to  make  upon 
himself  an  experiment  of  the  abuses  of  the  Church  of 
Komo.  There  was  not  a  tonsured  individual  in  tho 
kingdom  more  in  earnest  iu  his  piety  than  the  chap- 
lain of  Gesine ;  and  the  grave  child  was,  perhaps,  him- 
self astonished  at  the  work  performed  by  the  bishop 
and  Lis  vicars-general.  But  in  his  simplicity  he  had 
too  much  veneration  for  those  high  personages,  to 
allow  himself  to  entertain  the  least  8usj)iciou  as  to 
tlic  legitimacy  of  his  tonsure.  He  had  held  the  office 
for  two  years,  when  Noyon  was  visited  by  a  dreadful 
plague.  Several  canons  applied  to  the  chapter  for 
pei-mission  to  quit  the  town.  Many  of  the  inhabitants 
had  been  struck  by  the  "great  death,"  and  Gerard 
began  to  be  afraid  that  the  plague  might,  in  a  moment, 
bereave  him  of  his  son  John,  the  hope  of  his  life. 
The  young  Momniors  were  going  to  i)rosecute  their 
studies  at  Paris.  This  was  the  very  thing  which  the 
procurator-fiscal  had  over  desired  for  his  son.  Why 
should  he  separate  John  from  his  fellow-students  .' 
Accordingly,  on  the  5th  August,  1523,  he  presented 
a  petition  to  the  chapter,  requesting  leave  for  the 
young  chaplain  "  to  go  wherever  should  seem  to  him 
good  during  the  plague,  without  forfeiture  of  his  liv- 
ing." This  was  granted  till  tho  foiist  of  St.  Kemy. 
John  Calvin  thus  quitted  the  paternal  roof  at  the  age 
of  fourteen.  It  requires  great  effrontery  in  slander  to 
attribute  his  departure  to  other  causes,  and  thus  boldly 
encounter  the  disgrace  which  justly  recoils  on  the  pro- 
moters of  charges  whose  falsehood  has  been  so  com- 
pletely demonstrated.  Calvin,  it  would  seem,  alighted 
in  Paris  at  the  house  of  one  of  his  uncles,  Richard 
Cauvin,  who  lived  near  the  church  of  St.  Germain 
I'Auxerrois.  "Thus  fleeing  the  plague,"  says  the 
canon  of  Noyou,  "he  was  to  catcli  it  elsewhere." 

In  the  metropolis  of  literature  a  new  world  opened 
on  the  young  student.  He  availed  himself  of  it,  set 
himself  to  study,  and  made  groat  progress  in  Latin. 
He  familiarized  himself  with  Cicero,  and  learned  of 
this  great  master  to  use  the  language  of  the  Romans 
with  a  facility,  purity,  and  grace,  which  excited  the 
admiration  even  of  his  enemies.  But  at  the  same  time 
he  found  in  this  language  riches  which  he  was  at  a 
later  period  to  transfer  to  his  own. 

Till  now  Latin  had  been  the  only  literary  language. 
It  was,  and  to  our  day  has  remained,  the  language  of 
the  Church.  It  was  the  Reformation  which  created, 
or  at  least  everysvhere  emancipated,  modern  languages. 
The  exclusive  character  of  the  priests  had  ceased :  the 
people  were  called  to  learn  and  know.  In  this  fact 
alone  there  was  an  end  to  the  language  of  the  priest, 
and  the  introduction  of  the  language  of  the  people. 
It  was  no  longer  to  the  Sorbonne  merely,  it  was  no 
longer  to  some  monks,  some  ecclesiastics,  that  now 
ideas  were  to  be  addressed.  It  was  to  the  noble,  the 
citizen,  the  mechanic.  All  were  to  be  preached  to ; 
and  what  is  more,  all  were  going  to  preach — carders 
of  ^^ool  and  knights,  as  well  as  curates  and  doctors. 
A  new  tongue,  then,  was  required,  or,  at  least,  the 
vulgar  tongue  must  undergo  an  imraousc  transforma- 
tion— a  great  emancipation.  Drawn  from  the  com- 
mon uses  of  life,  it  must  receive  from  renovated  Chris- 
tianity its  patent  of  nobility.  The  Gospel,  which  had 
so  long  slept,  was  awake :  it  spoke,  it  addressed  the 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


whole  nation,  and  everywhere  enkindled  the  most  gen- 
erous affections.  It  opened  the  treasures  of  heaven 
to  a  generation  which  was  thinking  only  of  the  petty 
interests  here  below.  It  moved  the  masses.  It  spoke 
to  them  of  God,  of  man,  of  good  and  evil,  of  the  pope, 
of  the  Bible,  of  a  crown  in  heaven,  and,  it  might  be,  a 
scaffold  upon  earth.  The  popular  idiom,  which  till 
now  had  been  only  the  language  of  chroniclers  and 
troubadours,  was  called  by  the  Reformation  to  act  a 
new  jiai'l.   :iii(l  ruiisciiuunlly  to  underiro  new  develop- 


which  give  language  so  much  vivacity  and  life.  But 
there  are  resources  which  Tie  beyond  their  reach,  and 
can  only  come  from  men  of  intellect.  Calvin,  being 
called  to  discuss  and  prove,  gave  the  language  connec- 
tions, relations,  shades,  transitions,  and  dialectic  forms, 
which  it  did  not  previously  possess. 

All  these  elements  were  already  at  work  in  the  head 
of  the  young  student  of  the  college  La  Mai-che.  This 
youth,  who  was  to  be  so  mighty  in  wielding  the  human 
heart,  was  also  to  conquer  the  lanauaire  which  he  was 
called  to  tmplo^  Piotestint  Liantc  wis  formed,  ^t 
a  later  pel  10 1  on  tbi.  IrLiich  of  Cd\in  ind  rrote->- 
tant  Fi  in      \        il      1      i       I  1  i    i       1   il     Mitim 


ments.  Society  saw  a  new  world  begin,  and  this  new 
world  must  have  new  languages.  The  Reformation 
freed  the  French  language  from  the  swaddling  bands 
in  which  it  had  till  then  been  wrapt  up,  and  enabled 
it  to  reach  the  age  of  majority.  Thenceforth  this  lan- 
guage was  in  full  possession  of  those  exalted  rights 
which  relate  to  the  things  of  mind  and  tlie  blessings 
of  heaven,  and  of  which  it  had  been  deprived  under 
the  tutelage  of  Rome.  No  doubt  the  people  form 
their  own  lanciunw.     It  is  tliey  who  form  those  happy 


words,    those 


.AUXERROIS      PARIS 


j   From  it  came  forth  those  families  of  literati  and  high 

\    magistracy  which  had  so  powerful  an  influence  on  the 

j    culture  of  the  people :  from  it  came  forth  Port  Royal, 

I    one  of  the  greatest  instruments  which  contributed  to 

I   form  French  prose  and  even  French  poetry,  and  whicA, 

j    having  attempted  to  carry  into  the  Gallican  Catholi- 

I    cism   the  doctrine  and  language  of  the  Reformation, 

failed  in  the  one  project,  but  succeeded  in  the  other. 

For  Roman  Catholic  France  had  to  come  and  learn  of 

its  Jansenist  and  reformed  opponents   how  to  wield 

those  weapons  of  language  without  which  she  could 

not  combat  them. 

Meantime,  while  thus  in  the  college  of  La  Marche 
was  being  formed  the  future  reformer  of  religion,  and 
even  of  language,  all  was  in  agitation  around  the 
youthful  and  the  gi-ave  student,  wlio,  as  yet,  took 
no  part  in  the  great  movement  which  was  stiiTing 
society.     The  flames  which  had  consumed  the  her- 
mit   uul  Pdvanne,   had  spread  terror  over  Paris. 
1  111  tiiL  persecutors  were  not  satisfied;  a  system  of 
till    V  1^    put  in   operation    throughout   France. 
11k    tiitnds   of  the  Reformation  durst  no  longer 
orrc^pond  with  each  other,  lest  their  letters,  being 
intercepted,  should  mark  out  for  the  vengeance  of 
the  tiibunils  both  themselves  and  those  to  whom 
Mthty  wcie  addressed.    One  man,  however,  ventured 
i^  to  c  11  r^  iiLws  from  Paris  and  France  to  the  refugees 
/  rof  15  lit  by  sewing  unsigned  letters  into  his  doublet. 
jll  lie  c  ciptd  the  platoons  of  arquebusiers,   all   the 
^'!l  iinr  hahiien  of  the  different  communes,  the  scru- 
tiny of  tlie  provosts  and  lieutenants,  and  arrived 
U  B  dc  without  the  mysterious  doublet  having  been 
torn  up      His  statements  struck  Toussaint  and  his 
friends  with  terror.     "It  is  dreadful  to  hear  of  the 
p^ieit  ciuelties  which  are  there  done,"  exclaimed 
Toussaint.     A  short  time  before  had  arrived  at 


TOUSSATNT  IMPRISONED  AT  PARIS. 


Hide,  with  the  iilliccrs  of  justice  iit  their  heels,  two 
monks  of  St.  Francis,  one  of  whom,  mimed  John 
rrevost,  had  prcaclied  at  Meaux,  and  been  nfter^vards 
cast  into  prison  at  Paris.  What  they  told  of  Paris 
and  Lyons  called  fortli  the  deepest  sympathy  in  the 
refugees.  "May  our  Lord  send  thither  His  graae!" 
wrote  Toussaint  to  Farel.  "  I  assure  you  I  sometimes 
feel  myself  in  great  anguish  and  tribulation." 

Still  these  excellent  men  did  not  lose  cour- 
age. In  vain  were  all  the  parliaments  on  the  r?" 
watch ;  in  vain  did  the  spies  of  the  Sorbonne 
and  of  the  monks  come  into  churches,  colleges,  _ 
and  even  private  families,  to  pry  into  every 
evangelical  word  that  might  be  pronounced ;  in 
vain  did  the  king's  gens  (r<iim€s  arrest  on  the 
roads  everything  that  seemed  to  bear  the  stamp 
of  the  Reformation.  These  Frenchmen,  whom 
Home  and  her  partisans  tracked  and  cruslieil. 
had  faith  in  a  better  future,  and  already  hailed 
the  end  of  this  Babylonish  captivit}',  as  thej 
termed  it.  "At  length,"  said  they,  "the  seven- 
tieth year  will  come,  the  year  of  deliverance, 
and  liberty  of  mind  and  conscience  will  be  given 
us."  But  the  seventy  years  were  to  last  for 
three  centuries,  and  it  was  only  after  unheard 
of  disasters  that  their  hopes  were  to  be  realized 
It  was  not,  however,  from  men  that  tlie  refugee-, 
hoped  anything.  "Those  who  have  begun  the 
dance,"  said  Toussaint,  "  will  not  stop  by  the 
way."  But  they  believed  that  the  Lord  "  knew 
those  that  were  His,  and  would  himself  work  out  a 
mighty  deliverance." 

Chevalier  d'Esch  had,  in  fact,  been  delivered.  Hav- 
ing escaped  from  the  prisons  of  Pont-a-Mousson,  he 
had  hastened  to  Strasburg.  There,  however,  he  did 
not  remain  long.  Toussaint  had  immediately  written 
to  Farel :  "  For  the  glory  of  God  try  and  get  the 
knight,  our  good  master,  to  return  as  quickly  as  may 
be ;  for  the  other  brethren  have  great  need  of  such  a 
captain."  In  fact,  the  French  refugees  had  new  fears. 
They  trembled  lest  this  dispute  on  the  Lord's  Supper, 
which  had  distressed  them  so  much  in  Germany,  should 
cross  the  Rhine,  and  bring  new  sorrows  into  France. 
Francis  Lambert,  the  monk  of  Avignon,  after  being 
at  Zurich  and  Wittemberg,  had  come  to  Mctz ;  but 
there  was  not  complete  confidence  in  him.  It  was 
feared  that  he  might  bring  Luther's  sentiments,  and 
by  useless  controversies,  "monstrous,"  Tous- 
saint calls  them,  arrest  the  progress  of  the  Re- 
formation. Esch  then  returned  to  Lorraine ; 
but  it  was  to  be  exposed  anew  to  great  dangers, 
"  with  all  those  who  then  sought  the  glory  of 
Jesus  Christ." 

Toussaint  was  not  of  a  character  to  send  others 
to  the  battle  without  going  himself.  Deprived 
of  daily  intercourse  with  CEcolampadius,  con- 
fined to  the  society  of  a  coarse  priest,  he  hul 
sought  the  presence  of  Christ,  and  his  couragt 
had  increased.  If  he  could  not  retire  to  Mttz, 
might  he  not  at  least  go  to  Paris?  The  piles  ot  ^J. 
the  hermit  and  Pavanne  were  still  smoking,  it  i-,  " 
true,  and  served  to  warn  off  from  the  capital  all 
who  had  a  similar  faith.  But  if  the  colleges  and 
streets  of  Paris  were  terror-struck,  so  that  nc 


person  now  dared  to  pronounce  the  word  Gospel  or  Re- 
formation, was  not  this  a  reason  for  repairing  thither  ? 
Toussaint  quitted  Bale,  and  came  within  that  enclosure 
where  fanaticism  had  taken  the  ])hice  of  festivities  and 
dissipation.  He  sought,  while  advancing  in  Christian 
studies,  to  connect  himself  with  the  brethren  in  the 
colleges,  and  especially  in  that  of  Cardinal  Lcmoine, 
where  Lefevrc  and  Farel  had  t;iiif,'lit.     But  lie  wns  not 


CHURCH    OF    ST    THOMAS,    STRASBURO. 

long  at  libeity  to  do  'o  The  tyranny  of  the  commis- 
sioners of  tlie  i><ii!iament  and  the  theologians  reigned 
supreme  in  the  capital,  and  every  one  who  displeased 
them  was  by  them  accused  of  heresy.  A  duke  and  an 
abbot,  whose  names  are  not  given,  denounced  Tous- 
saint as  a  heretic ;  and  one  of  the  king's  Serjeants 
arrested  the  youth  from  Lorraine,  and  threw  him  into 
prison.  Separated  from  all  his  friends,  and  treated  as 
a  criminal,  Toussaint  felt  his  wretchedness  the  more 
keenly.  "O  Lord!"  exclaimed  he,  "take  not  thy 
Spirit  from  me ;  for  without  Him,  I  am  only  flesh  and 
blood,  and  a  sink  of  iniquity."  While  his  body  was 
in  fetters,  he  thought  of  all  those  who  were  still  com- 
bating freely  for  the  Gospel.  There  was  CEcolampa- 
dius, his  father,  he  "  whose  work  we  are  in  the  Lord ;" 
there  was  Lefevre,  whom  he  thought,  doubtless  on 
account  of  his  age,  "  incapable  of  bearing  the  burden 


'  ^-i^/^ 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION, 


of  the  Gospel ;"  Roussel,  "  by  whom  he  hoped  that  the 
Lord  would  perform  great  things ;"  Vaugris,  who  dis- 
played all  the  charity  "of  the  most  affectionate  bro- 
ther," in  order  to  deliver  him  from  his  enemies ;  in 
fine,  there  was  Farel,  to  whom  he  wrote  :  "  I  commend 
myself  to  your  prayers,  that  I  may  not  fall  in  this 
combat."  Oh!  how  all  the  names  of  these  beloved 
men  alleviated  the  bitterness  of  his  imprisonment! 
Indeed,  he  was  not  ready  to  fall.  Death,  it  is  true, 
threatened  to  overtake  him  in  this  city,  in  which  the 
blood  of  a  multitude  of  his  brethren  was  to  be  poured 
out  like  water ;  while  the  friends  of  his  mother,  and 
his  iiucle,  the  primicier  of  Metz,  and  the  Cardinal 
Lorraine,  made  him  the  most  splendid  offers.  .  .  . 
"I  despise  them,"  he  replied.  "I  know  that  it  is  a 
temptation  from  God :  I  would  rather  be  hungry,  I 
would  rather  be  a  door-keeper  in  the  house  of  the 
Lord,  than  dwell  with  great  riches  in  the  palaces  of 
the  ungodly."  At  the  same  time  he  made  an  open 
profession  of  his  faith:  "I  glory,"  said  he,  "in  being 
called  a  heretic  by  those  whose  life  and  doctrine  are 
opposed  to  Jesus  Christ."  This  interesting  and  in- 
trepid young  man  signed  liis  letters,  "  Peter  Toussaint, 
unworthy  of  being  called  a  Christian." 

Thus,  in  the  absence  of  the  king,  new  blows  were 
struck  at  the  Reformation.  Berquin,  Toussaint,  and 
many  others,  were  in  prison;  Schuch,  Pavanne,  and 
the  hermit  of  Livry,  had  been  put  to  death ;  Farel, 
Lefcvre,  Roussel,  and  a  great  many  more  defenders 
of  sound  doctrine,  were  in  exile.  The  lips  of  the 
eloquent  were  mute.  The  light  of  the  Gospel  day 
was  becoming  more  and  more  overcast,  and  the  storm, 
incessantly  growling,  bent,  shook,  and  threatened,  as 
it  were,  to  root  up  the  still  tender  tree  which  the  hand 
of  God  had  planted  in  the  soil  of  France. 

Nor  was  this  all.  To  the  humbler  victims  who  had 
been  sacrificed,  more  illustrious  were  to  succeed.  The 
enemies  of  the  Reformation  in  France,  not  having  been 
able  to  succeed  when  they  began  at  the  top,  had  be- 
come resigned  to  begin  at  the  bottom ;  but  with  the 
hope  of  rising  step  by  step  in  condemnation  and  death, 
until  they  should  reach  the  highest  pinnacles.  This 
inverted  course  succeeded.  Scarcely  had  the  ashes 
with  which  persecution  had  covered  the  Place-do- 
Greve  and  the  pavement  of  Notre  Dame  been 
dispersed,  when  new  blows  were  struck.  Messire 
Anthony  du  Blet,  that  excellent  man,  that  merchant 
of  Lyons,  fell  under  the  attacks  of  the  enemies  of  the 
truth,  with  another  disciple,  Francois  Moulin,  though 
we  do  not  know  the  details  of  his  death.  They  went 
farther  still,  and  took  a  higher  aim.  There  was  an 
illustrious  personage,  one  they  could  not  reach  in  per- 
son, but  they  could  strike  her  in  those  who  were  dear 
to  her.  This  was  the  Duchess  d'Alenfon.  Michael 
d'Arande,  chaplain  to  the  king's  sister,  for  whom  Mar- 
garet had  dismissed  all  her  other  preachers,  and  who 
preached  the  pure  Gospel  before  her,  became  the 
object  of  attack  by  the  persecutors,  and  was  threat- 
ened with  imprisonment  and  death.  Almost  at  the 
same  time  Anthony  Papillon,  for  whom  the  princess 
had  procured  the  office  of  first  master  of  requests  to 
the  Dauphin,  died  suddenly,  and  the  universal  rumour, 
even  among  the  enemy,  was,  that  he  had  been  poisoned. 

Thus   persecution   extended   in   the  kingdom,  and 


always  drew  nearer  to  Margaret.  After  the  forces  of 
the  Reformation,  concentrated  at  Meaux,  Lyons,  and 
B:"de,  had  been  dispersed,  the  isolated  combatants  who 
had  here  and  there  maintained  her  cause,  were  cut  off 
in  detail.  A  few  efforts  more,  and  the  French  soil 
will  be  purged  of  heresy!  Silent  manoeuvres,  secret 
wiles,  succeed  to  clamour  and  the  scaffold.  The  war 
will  be  carried  on  in  open  day,  but  at  the  same  time 
also  in  darkness.  If  fanaticism  employs  the  tribunal 
and  the  scaffold  for  the  ignoble,  it  will  reserve  poison 
and  the  poniard  for  the  great.  The  teachers  of  a  cele- 
brated society  have  only  too  much  patronized  the  use 
of  it,  and  even  kings  have  fallen  under  the  daggers  of 
the  assassin.  But  if  Rome  has  always  had  Seides,  it 
has  also  seen  Vincent  Pauls  and  Fenelons.  These 
blows,  struck  in  darkness  and  silence,  were  well  fitted 
to  spread  universal  terror.  To  this  perfidious  course, 
to  these  fanatical  persecutions  within,  were  joined 
fatal  defeats  without.  The  whole  kingdom  was  veiled 
in  mourning.  There  was  not  a  family,  especially 
among  the  nobility,  iu  which  tears  did  not  flow  for  a 
father,  a  husband,  or  a  son,  left  on  the  plains  of  Italy, 
or  one  where  the  heart  did  not  tremble  for  the  liberty 
or  life  of  one  of  its  members.  The  great  reverses 
which  had  overtaken  the  kingdom  diffused  a  leaven  of 
hatred  against  the  heretics.  The  people,  the  parlia- 
ment, the  Church,  the  throne  even,  lent  a  hand. 

Was  it  not  enough  that  the  defeat  of  Pavia  had  de- 
prived the  Duchess  d'Alen^on  of  her  husband,  and 
cast  her  brother  into  prison  1  Must  she  see  the  Gospel 
torch,  in  whose  soft  light  she  had  always  rejoiced,  ex- 
tinguished, perhaps  for  ever?  The  news  from  Spain 
increased  the  general  grief.  Chagrin  and  sickness 
were  endangering  the  life  of  the  haughty  Francis  I. 
If  the  king  continues  prisoner,  if  he  dies,  if  the  regency 
of  his  mother  continues  for  many  long  years,  is  it  not 
all  over  with  the  Reformation  ?  "  But  though  all 
seems  lost,"  said  the  young  scholar  of  Noyon  at  a  later 
period,  "  God  saves  and  guards  His  Church  iu  a  mira- 
culous manner."  The  Church  of  France,  which  was 
travaUiug  as  in  birth,  was  to  have  a  time  of  refresh- 
ing before  new  sorrows;  and  in  order  to  give  it  to 
her,  God  employed  a  feeble  woman,  who  never  de- 
clared decidedly  in  favour  of  the  Reformation.  She 
was  then  thinking  more  of  saviug  the  king  and  the 
kingdom,  than  of  delivering  obscure  Christians,  who, 
however,  put  great  hope  iu  her.  But  under  the  glare 
of  worldly  affairs,  God  often  conceals  the  mysterious 
means  by  which  He  governs  His  people.  A  noble  pro- 
ject was  formed  in  the  breast  of  the  Duchess  d'Alen- 
<jon: — to  cross  the  sea  or  the  Pyrenees  to  rescue 
Francis  I.  from  the  hands  of  Charles  V.  Such  is 
henceforth  the  aim  of  her  life. 

Margaret  de  Valois  intimated  her  design,  and  France 
hailed  her  with  a  shout  of  gratitude.  Her  great  talents, 
the  reputation  which  she  had  acquired,  the  love  which 
she  had  for  her  brother,  and  that  which  Francis  had 
for  her,  were,  in  the  eyes  of  Louisa  and  Duprat,  a 
counterbalance  for  her  attachment  to  the  new  doc- 
trine. All  turned  their  eyes  towards  her  as  the  only 
person  capable  of  delivering  the  kingdom  from  the 
peril  in  which  it  was  placed.  Let  Margaret  herself, 
then,  go  to  Spain, — let  her  speak  to  the  mighty 
emperor  and  his  ministers, — and  let  her  employ  the 


MARGARET'S  PROJECT. 


407 


admirable  taleuU  which  Providence  lias  bestowed 
upon  her,  in  the  deliverance  of  her  brother  and  her 
kinn;. 

Meanwhile  very  various  feelings  filled  the  hearts  of 
the  nobles  and  the  people  when  they  saw  the  Duchess 
d'Alen<;on  placing  herself  amid  the  hostile  councils  and 
tierce  soldiery  of  the  catholic  king. 

Every  one  admired  the  courage  and  devotedness  of 
this  young  female,  but  without  participating  in  them. 
The  friends  of  the  princess  luul  fears  for  her,  which 
were  well-nigh  realized.  But  the  evangelical  Chris- 
tians were  full  of  hope.  The  ea|)tivity  of  Francis  I. 
had  brought  unparalleled  severities  on  the  friends  of 
the  Reformation,  and  it  was  thought  that  his  liberation 
might  put  an  end  to  them.  To  open  the  gates  of  Spain 
to  the  king,  wius  to  shut  those  of  the  ollicialities  and 
castles  into  which  the  servants  of  the  Word  of  God 
were  thrown,  Margaret  strengthened  herself  in  a  de- 
sign on  which  her  whole  soul  was  bent,  by  all  these 
different  motives : 

No  lifight  of  heaven  can  bar  my  way, 
Xor  depth  beneath,  my  soul  dismay ; 
E'en  hell  must  on-n  my  Saviour's  sway ! 

Ilcr  weak  female  heart  was  strengthened  by  the  faith 
which  gives  the  victory  over  the  world,  and  her  resolu- 
tion was  unmoved.  Everything  was  prepared  in  haste 
for  this  important  and  dangerous  voyage. 

The  Arclibishop  of  Embrun,  since  Cardinal  of  Tour- 
non,  and  the  president  De  Selves,  were  already  at 
Madrid  to  negotiate  the  deliverance  of  the  king.  They 
were  made  subordinate  to  Margaret,  as  was  also  the 
Bishop  of  Tarbes,  since  Cardinal  de  Graramont.  Full 
powers  were  given  to  the  princess  alone.  At  the  same 
time,  Montmorency,  who  at  a  later  period  was  so  hostile 
to  the  Reformation,  was  sent  in  all  haste  into  Spain,  in 
order  to  obtain  a  safe-conduct  for  the  king's  sister. 
The  emperor  made  difficulties.  He  said  that  it  was  for 
his  ministers  alone  to  arrange  the  affair.  "  One  hour 
of  conference,"  exclaimed  Selves,  "between  your 
majesty,  the  king,  my  master,  and  the  Duchess  d'Alen- 


9on,  will  advance  the  treaty  more  than  a  month  of 
discussion  between  lawyers ! " 

Margaret,  impatient  to  arrive  because  of  the  sick- 
ness of  the  king,  set  out  without  a  safe-conduct,  with 
an  imposing  retinue.  She  quitted  the  court,  and 
passed  through  Lyons,  proceeding  towards  the  Medi- 


terranean.     As  she  was  on  the  way,   Montmorency 
returned  with  letters  from  Chai-les,  who  guaranteed 
j   her  liberty  for  three  montlis  only.      She  arrived  at 
Aigues-Mortes,  and  here  the  sister  of  Francis  I.  em- 
barked in  the  vessel  prepared  for  her.     Led  by  God 
into  Spain  rather  to  deliver  humble  Christians  from 
oppression,  than  to  bring  the  mighty  monarch  of  Franco 
out  of  captivity,  Margaret  committed  herself  to  the 
I  billows  of  the  same  sea  which  had  borne  her  captive 
I   brother  after  the  disastrous  battle  of  Pavia. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


BOOK     XIII. 


THE   TROTEST   AND   THE   CONFERENCE. — 1526-1529. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Twofold  Movement  of  Reform— Reform  the  Work  of  God— First  Diet  of 
Spires— Palladium  of  Reform— Firmness  of  the  Reformers— Proceed- 
ings of  the  Diet — Report  of  tl*  Commissioners — The  Papacy  Painted 
and  Described  by  Luther— The  Destruction  of  Jerusalem— Instractions 
of  Seville— Change  of  Policy— Holy  League— Religious  Liberty  Pro- 
posed— Crisis  of  the  Reformation. 

We  have  witnes.sed  the  commencement,  the  struggles, 
the  reverses,  and  the  progress  of  the  Reformation  ;  but 
the  conflicts  hitherto  described  have  been  only  partial ; 
we  are  entering  upon  a  new  period, — that  of  general 
battles.  Spires  (1529)  and  Augsburg  (1530)  are  names 
that  shine  forth  with  more  immortal  glory  than  Mara- 
thon, Pavia,  or  Marengo.  Forces  that  up  to  the  pre- 
sent time  were  separate,  are  now  uniting  into  one 
energetic  band ;  and  the  power  of  God  is  at  work  in 
those  brilliant  actions  which  open  a  new  era  in  the 
history  of  nations,  and  communicate  an  irresistible  im- 
pulse to  mankind.  The  passage  from  the  IVIiddle  Ages 
to  modern  times  has  arrived. 

A  great  protest  is  about  to  be  accomplished  ;  and 
although  there  have  been  Protestants  in  the  Church 
from  the  very  beginning  of  Christianity,  since  liberty 
and  truth  could  not  be  maintained  here  below,  save  by 
protesting  continually  against  despotism  and  error, 
Protestantism  is  about  to  take  a  new  step.  It  is  about 
to  become  a  body,  and  thus  attack  with  greater  energy 
that  "  mystery  of  iniquity  "  which  for  ages  has  taken 
a  bodily  shape  at  Rome,  in  the  very  temple  of  God. 

But  although  we  have  to  treat  of  protests,  it  must 
not,  however,  be  imagined  that  the  Reformation  is  a 
negative  work.  In  every  spliere  in  which  anything 
great  is  evolved,  whether  in  nature  or  society,  tliere  is 
a  principle  of  life  at  work, — a  seed  that  God  fertilizes. 
The  Reformation,  when  it  appeared  in  the  sixteenth 
century,  did  not,  indeed,  perform  a  new  work,  for  a 
reformation  is  not  a  formation ;  but  it  tiu-ned  its  face 
toward  the  beginnings  of  Christianity ;  it  seized  upon 
them  with  affection,  and  embraced  them  with  adora- 
tion. Yet  it  was  not  satisfied  with  this  return  to 
primitive  times.  Laden  with  its  precious  burden,  it 
again  crossed  the  interval  of  ages,  and  brought  back  to 
fallen  and  lifeless  Christendom  the  sacred  fire  that  was 
destined  to  restore  it  to  light  and  life.  In  this  two- 
fold movement  consisted  its  action  and  its  strengtli. 
Afterwards,  no  doubt,  it  rejected  superannuated  forms, 
and  combated  error ;  but  this  was,  so  to  speak,  only 
the  least  of  its  works,  and  its  third  movement.  Even 
the  protest  of  which  we  have  to  speak,  had  for  its  end 
and  aim  the  re-establishment  of  truth  and  of  life,  and 
was  essentially  a  positive  act. 

This  powerful  and  rapid  twofold  action  of  reform, 
by  which  the  apostolic  times  were  re-established  at  the 
opening  of  modern  history,  proceeded  not  from  man. 


A  reformation  is  not  arbitrarily  made,  as  charters  and 
revolutions  are  in  some  countries.  A  real  reformation, 
prepared  during  many  ages,  is  the  work  of  the  Spirit 
of  God.  Before  tlie  appointed  hour,  the  greatest 
geniuses,  and  even  the  most  faithful  of  God's  servants, 
cannot  produce  it ;  but  when  the  reforming  time  is 
come,  when  it  is  God's  pleasure  to  renovate  the  affairs 
of  the  world,  the  Divine  life  must  clear  a  passage ;  and 
it  is  able  to  create  of  itself  the  humble  instruments  by 
which  this  life  is  communicated  to  the  human  race. 
Then,  if  men  are  silent,  the  very  stones  will  cry  out. 

It  is  to  the  protest  of  Spires  (1529)  that  we  are  now 
about  to  turn  our  eyes;  but  the  way  to  this  protest 
was  prepared  by  years  of  peace,  and  followed  by 
attempts  at  concord  that  we  shall  have  also  to  describe. 
Nevertheless,  the  formal  establishment  of  Protestantism 
remains  the  great  fact  that  prevails  in  the  history  of 
the  Reformation  from  1526  to  1529. 

The  Duke  of  Brunswick  had  brought  into  Germany 
the  threatening  message  of  Charles  the  Fifth.  That 
emperor  was  about  to  repair  from  Spain  to  Rome,  to 
come  to  an  understanding  with  the  pope,  and  from 
thence  to  pass  into  Germany  to  constrain  the  heretics. 
The  last  summons  was  to  be  addressed  to  them  by  the 
Diet  of  Spires,  152G.'  The  decisive  hour  for  the 
Reformation  was  on  the  point  of  striking. 

On  the  25th  June,  1526,  the  diet  opened.  In  the 
instructions,  dated  at  Seville,  23d  March,  the  emperor 
ordered  that  the  Church  customs  should  be  maintained 
entire,  and  called  upon  the  diet  to  punish  those  who 
refused  to  carry  out  the  edict  of  Worms.  Ferdinand 
himself  was  at  Spires,  and  his  presence  rendered  these 
orders  more  formidable.  Never  had  the  hostility 
which  the  Romish  partizans  entertained  against  the 
evangelical  princes  appeared  in  so  striking  a  manner. 
"  The  Pharisees,"  said  Spalatin,  "  are  inveterate  iu 
their  hatred  against  Jesus  Christ." 

Never,  also,  had  the  evangelical  princes  shewed  so 
much  hope.  Instead  of  coming  forward  frightened  and 
trembling,  like  guilty  men,  they  were  seen  advancing, 
surrounded  by  the  ministers  of  the  Word,  with  uplifted 
heads  and  cheerful  looks.  Tlieir  first  step  was  to  ask 
for  a  place  of  worship.  The  Bishop  of  Spires,  count- 
palatine  of  the  Rhine,  having  indignantly  refused  this 
strange  request,  the  princes  complained  of  it  as  an  act 
of  injustice,  and  ordered  their  ministers  to  preach  daily 
in  the  halls  of  their  palaces,  which  were  immediately 
filled  by  an  immense  crowd  from  the  city  and  the 
country,  amounting  to  many  thousands.  In  vain,  on 
the  feast  days,  did  Ferdinand,  the  ultramontane  princes, 
and  the  bishops,  assist  in  the  pomps  of  the  Roman 


FIRST  DIET  OF  SPIRES. 


worship  in  the  beautiful  cathedral  of  Spires ;  the  un- 
adorued  Word  of  God,  preached  in  the  Protestant 
vestibules,  engrossed  all  hearers,  and  the  mass  was 
celebrated  in  an  empty  church. 

It  was  not  only  the  ministers,  but  the  knights  and 
the  grooms,  "  mere  idiots,"  who,  unable  to  control 
their  zeal,  everywhere  eagerly  extolled  the  Word  of 
the  Lord.  All  the  followers  of  tlie  evangelical  princes 
wore  these  letters  embroidered  on  their  right  sleeves: 
"  V.  D.  M.  I.  iE.,"  that  is  to  say.  The  Word  of  the 
Lord  endureth  for  ever.  Tiie  same  inscription  miglit  be 
read  on  the  escutcheons  of  the  princes,  suspended  over 
tlieir  hotels.  Tiie  Word  of  God — such  from  this 
moment  was  the  palladium  of  the  Reformation. 

Tiiis  was  not  all.  The  Protestants  knew  that  the 
mere  worship  would  not  suffice;  tlio  landgi-ave  had, 
therefore,  called  upon  the  elector  to  abolish  certain 
"court  customs"  which  dishonoured  the  Gospel. 
These  princes  had  consequently  drawn  up  an  order  of 
living  which  forbade  drunkenness,  debauchery,  and 
other  vicious  customs  prevalent  during  a  diet. 

Perhaps  the  Protestant  princes  sometimes  put  for- 
ward their  dissent  beyond  what  prudence  would  have 
required.  Not  only  did  they  not  go  to  mass,  and  did 
not  observe  the  prescribed  fasts,  but  still  further,  on 
the  fust  days,  their  attendants  were  seen  publicly 
bearing  dishes  of  meat  and  game,  destined  for  their 
niasters'  tables,  and  crossing,  says  Cochlffius,  in  the 
presence  of  tlic  whole  auditory,  the  halls  in  which  the 
worship  w;is  celebrating.  "  It  wa.s,"  says  this  writer, 
"with  the  intent  of  attracting  the  catholics  by  the 
savour  of  the  meats  and  of  the  wines." 

The  elector,  in  effect,  had  a  numerous  court, — seven 
hundred  persons  formed  his  retinue.  One  day  he  gave 
a  banquet  at  which  twenty-six  princes,  with  their 
gentlemen  and  councillors,  were  present.  They  cou- 
tinued  playing  until  a  very  late  hour — ten  at  night. 
Everything  in  Duke  John  announced  the  most  power- 
ful prince  of  the  empire.  The  youthful  landgrave  of 
Hesse,  full  of  zeal  and  knowledge,  and  in  the  strength 
of  a  first  Christian  love,  made  a  still  deeper  impression 
on  those  who  approached  him.  He  would  fretjuently 
dispute  with  the  bishops,  and,  owing  to  his  acquaint- 
ance with  the  Holy  Scriptures,  easily  stopped  their 
mouths. 

This  firmness  in  the  friends  of  the  Reformation 
produced  results  that  surpassed  their  expectation.  It 
was  no  longer  possible  to  be  deceived :  the  spirit  that 
was  manifested  in  these  men  was  the  spirit  of  the 
Bible.  Everywhere  the  sceptre  was  falling  from  the 
hands  of  Rome.  "The  leaven  of  Luther,"  said  a 
zealous  papist,  "  sets  all  the  people  of  Germany  iu  a 
ferment,  and  foreign  nations  themselves  are  agitated 
by  formidable  movements." 

It  was  immediately  seen  how  great  is  the  strength  of 
deep  convictions.  The  states  that  were  well-disposed 
towards  the  reform,  but  which  had  not  ventured  to 
give  their  adhesion  publicly,  became  emboldened.  The 
neutral  states,  demanding  the  repose  of  the  empire, 
formed  the  resolution  of  opposing  the  edict  of  Worms, 
the  execution  of  which  would  have  spread  trouble 
through  all  Germany;  and  the  papist  states  lost  their 
boldness.     The  how  of  the  might//  was  broken  ! 

Ferdinand  did  not  think  proper,  at  so   critical  a 


moment,  to  communicate  to  the  diet  the  severe  in- 
structions he  had  received  from  Seville.'  He  substi- 
tuted a  proposition  calculated  to  satisfy  both  parties. 

The  hijTnen  immediately  recovered  the  influence  of 
which  the  clergy  had  dispossessed  them.  The  eccle- 
siastics resisted  a  proposal  in  the  college  of  princes 
tliat  the  diet  should  occupy  itself  with  church  abuses ; 
but  their  exertions  were  unavailing.  Undoubtedly  a 
non-political  assembly  would  liavc  been  preferable  to 
the  diet,  but  it  was  already  a  point  gained,  that  reli- 
gious matters  were  no  longer  to  be  regulated  solely  by 
the  priests. 

As  soon  as  this  resolution  was  communicated  to  the 
deputies  from  the  cities,  they  called  for  the  abolition 
of  every  usage  contrary  to  the  faith  in  Jesus  Christ, 
la  vain  did  the  bishops  exclaim  that,  instead  of  doing 
away  with  pretended  abuses,  they  would  do  much 
better  to  burn  all  the  books  with  which  Germany  had 
been  inundated  during  the  last  eight  years.  "  You 
desire,"  was  the  reply,  "  to  bury  all  wisdom  and  know- 
ledge." The  request  of  the  cities  was  agreed  to,  and 
the  diet  was  divided  into  committees  for  the  abolition 
of  abuses. 

Then  was  manifested  the  profound  disgust  inspired 
by  the  priests  of  Rome.  "  The  clergy,"  said  the  de- 
puty for  Frankfort,  "  make  a  jest  of  the  public  good, 
and  look  after  their  own  interests  only."  "  The  lay- 
men," said  the  deputy  from  Duke  George,  "  have  the 
salvation  of  Christendom  much  more  at  heart  than  the 
clergy." 

The  commissioners  made  their  report ;  people  were 
astonished  at  it.  Never  had  men  spoken  out  so  freely 
against  the  pope  and  the  bishops.  The  commission  of 
the  princes,  iu  which  the  ecclesiastics  and  laymen  were 
in  equal  numbers,  proposed  a  fusion  of  popery  and 
reform.  "  The  priests  would  do  bettor  to  marry,"  said 
they,  "than  to  keep  women  of  ill  fame  iu  their  houses  ; 
every  man  should  be  at  liberty  to  communicate  under 
one  or  both  forms ;  German  and  Latin  may  be  equally 
employed  in  the  Lord's  Supper  and  iu  Baptism ;  as  for 
the  other  sacraments,  let  them  be  preserved,  but  let 
them  be  administered  gratuitously.  Finally,  let  the 
Word  of  God  be  preached  according  to  the  interpreta- 
tion of  the  Church,  (this  was  the  demand  of  Rome;) 
but  always  explaining  Scripture  by  Scripture,"  (this 
was  the  great  principle  of  the  Reformation.)  Thus 
the  first  step  was  taken  towards  a  national  nniou. 
Still  a  few  more  efforts,  and  the  whole  German  race 
would  be  walking  in  the  direction  of  the  Gospel. 

The  evangelical  Christians,  at  the  sight  of  this  glo- 
rious prospect,  redoubled  their  exertions.  "  Stand 
fast  in  the  doctrine,"  said  the  Elector  of  Saxony  to  his 
councillors.  At  the  same  time  hawkers  in  every  part 
of  the  city  were  selling  Christian  pamphlets,  short  and 
easy  to  read,  written  in  Latin  and  in  German,  and  orna- 
mented with  engravings,  in  which  the  errors  of  Rome 
were  vigorously  attacked.  One  of  these  books  was 
entitled,  "  The  Papacy,  vnih.  its  Members  painted  and 

1  Some  historians  appear  to  think  that  these  instructiong  were  commoni- 
cated  in  reality  at  the  very  opening  of  the  diet.  Ranke  shews  that  this  was 
not  the  case ;  but  adds,  that  he  sees  no  reason  why  the  commissaries  should 
have  thought  themselves  authorized  to  make  any  other  proposition.  The 
motives  that  I  have  a.ssigned  appear  to  mo  the  true  ones.  1  shall  state 
below  why  the  commissaries  returned  afterwards  to  the  imperial  instructions. 


410 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


described,  by  Doctor  Luther."  In  it  figured  the  pope, 
the  cardinals,  and  all  the  religious  orders,  exceeding 
sixty,  each  with  their  costumes,  and  description  in 
verse.  Under  the  pictm-e  of  one  of  these  orders  were 
the  following  lines : 


Greedy  priests,  see,  roll  in  gold. 
Forgetful  of  tUe  humble  Jesu : 


under  another; 


and  under  a  third  : 

We  can  fast  and  pray  the  harder 
With  an  overflowing  larder. 

"  Not  one  of  these  orders,"  said  Luther  to  the  reader, 
"  thinks  either  of  faith  or  charity.  This  one  wears 
the  tonsure,  the  other  a  hood;  this  a  cloak,  that  a 
robe.  One  is  white,  another  black,  a  third  gray,  and 
a  fourth  blue.  Here  is  one  holding  a  looking-glass, 
there  one  with  a  pair  of  scissors.  Each  has  his  play- 
things. .  .  .  Ah!  these  are  the  palmer- worms,  the 
locusts,  the  canker-worms,  and  the  caterpillars,  which, 
as  Joel  saith,  have  eaten  up  all  the  earth." 

But  if  Luther  employed  the  scourges  of  sarcasm,  he 
also  blew  the  trumpet  of  the  prophets ;  and  this  he  did 
in  a  work  entitled,  "The  Destruction  of  Jerusalem." 
Shedding  tears,  like  Jeremiah,  he  denounced  to  the 
German  people  a  ruin  similar  to  that  of  the  holy  city, 
if  like  it  they  rejected  the  Gospel.  "  God  has  imparted 
to  us  all  His  treasures,"  exclaimed  he ;  "  He  became 
man.  He  has  served  us.  He  died  for  us,  He  has  risen 
again,  and  He  has  so  opened  the  gates  of  heaven  that 
ail  may  enter.  .  .  .  The  hour  of  grace  is  come. 
.  .  .  The  glad  tidings  are  proclaimed.  .  .  But 
where  is  the  city,  where  is  the  prince  that  has  received 
them  ?  They  insult  the  Gospel :  they  draw  the  sword, 
and,  daring,  seize  God  by  the  beard.  .  .  .  But 
wait.  .  .  .  He  will  turn  round ;  with  one  blow 
will  He  break  their  jaws,  and  all  Germany  will  be  one 
vast  ruin." 

These  works  had  a  very  great  sale.  They  were 
read  not  only  by  the  peasants  and  townspeople,  but 
also  by  the  nobles  and  princes.  Leaving  the  priests 
alone  at  the  foot  of  the  altar,  they  threw  themselves 
into  the  arms  of  the  new  Gospel.  The  necessity  of  a 
reform  of  abuses  was  proclaimed  on  the  1st  of  August 
by  a  general  committee. 

Then  Rome,  which  had  appeared  to  slumber,  awoke. 
Fanatical  priests,  monks,  ecclesiastical  princes,  all  ga- 
thered round  Ferdinand.  Cunning,  bribery,  nothing  was 
spared.  Did  not  Ferdinand  possess  the  instructions  of 
Seville  ?  To  refuse  their  publication  was  to  effect  the 
ruin  of  the  Church  and  of  the  empire.  Let  the  voice 
of  Chai-les,  said  they,  oppose  its  powerful  veto  to  the 
dizziness  that  is  hurrying  Germany  along,  and  the 
empire  will  be  saved !  Ferdinand  made  up  his  mind, 
and  at  length,  on  the  3d  August,  published  the  decree 
drawn  up  more  than  four  months  previously  in  favour 
of  the  edict  of  Worms. 

The  persecution  was  about  to  begin  ;  the  reformers 
would  be  thrown  into  dungeons,  and  the  sword  drawn 
on  the  banks  of  the  Guadalquivir  would  at  last  pierce 
the  bosom  of  the  Reformation. 


The  effect  of  the  imperial  ordinance  was  immense. 
The  breaking  of  an  axle-tree  does  not  more  violently 
check  the  velocity  of  a  i-ailway  train.  The  elector 
and  the  landgrave  announced  that  they  were  about  to 
quit  the  diet,  and  ordered  theii"  attendants  to  prepare 
for  their  departure.  At  the  same  time  the  deputies 
from  the  cities  drew  towards  these  two  princes,  and 
the  Reformation  appeared  as  if  it  would  enter  imme- 
diately upon  a  contest  with  the  pope  and  Charles  tho 
Fifth. 

But  it  was  not  yet  prepared  for  a  general  struggle. 
The  tree  was  destined  to  strike  its  root  deeper  before 
the  Almighty  unchained  the  stormy  winds  against  it. 
A  spirit  of  blindness,  similar  to  that  which  in  former 
times  was  sent  out  upon  Said  and  Herod,  then  seized 
upon  the  great  enemy  of  the  Gospel ;  and  thus  was  it 
that  Divine  Providence  saved  the  Reformation  in  its 
cradle. 

The  first  movement  of  trouble  being  over,  the  friends 
of  the  Gospel  began  to  consider  the  date  of  the  impe- 
rial instructions,  and  to  weigh  the  new  political  com- 
binations which  seemed  to  announce  to  the  world  the 
most  unlooked-for  events.  "  When  the  emperor  wrote 
these  letters,"  said  the  cities  of  Upper  Germany,  "  he 
was  on  good  terms  with  the  pope ;  but  now  everything 
is  changed.  It  is  even  asserted  that  he  told  Margaret, 
his  representative  in  the  Low  Countries,  to  proceed 
gently  with  respect  to  the  Gospel.  Let  us  send  him  a 
deputation."  That  was  not  necessary.  Charles  had 
not  waited  imtil  now  to  form  a  different  resolution. 
The  course  of  public  affau-s,  taking  a  sudden  turn,  had 
rushed  into  an  entirely  new  path.  Years  of  peace 
were  about  to  be  granted  to  the  Reformation. 

Clement  VIL,  whom  Charles  was  about  to  visit, 
according  to  the  instructions  of  Seville,  in  order  to 
receive  the  imperial  crown  in  Rome  itself  and  from 
his  sacred  hands,  and  in  return  to  give  up  to  the 
pontiff  the  Gospel  and  the  Reformation, — Clement 
VIL,  seized  with  a  strange  infatuation,  had  suddenly 
turned  against  this  powerful  monarch.  The  emperor, 
unwilling  to  favour  his  ambition  in  every  point,  had 
opposed  his  claims  on  the  states  of  the  Duke  of  Fer- 
rara.  Clement  immediately  became  exasperated,  and 
cried  out  that  Charles  wished  to  enslave  the  peninsula, 
but  that  the  time  was  come  for  re-establishing  the 
independence  of  Italy.  This  great  idea  of  Italian 
independence,  entertained  at  that  period  by  a  few 
literary  men,  had  not,  as  in  our  days,  penetrated  the 
mass  of  the  nation.  Clement,  therefore,  hastened  to 
have  recourse  to  political  combinations.  The  pope, 
tho  Venetians,  and  the  King  of  France,  who  had 
scarcely  recovered  his  liberty,  formed  a  holy  league, 
of  which  the  King  of  England  was  by  a  bull  nomi- 
nated the  preserver  and  protector.  In  June,  152G, 
tlie  emperor  caused  the  most  favourable  propositions 
to  be  presented  to  the  pope ;  but  his  advances  were 
ineffectual,  and  the  Duke  of  Sessa,  Charles's  ambas- 
sador at  Rome,  returning  on  horseback  from  his  last 
audience,  placed  a  court-fool  behind  him,  who,  by  a 
thousand  monkey  tricks,  gave  the  Roman  people  to 
understand  how  little  they  cared  for  the  pope  and  his 
projects.  Clement  responded  to  these  bravadoes  by  a 
brief,  in  which  he  threatened  the  emperor  with  excom- 
munication, and  without  loss  of  time  pushed  his  troops 


RELIGIOUS  LIBERTY  PROPOSED. 


411 


into  Lombai-ily;  whilst  Milan,  Florcuce,  auJ  PieJiuont, 
dechircd  for  the  holy  league.  Thus  was  Europe  pre- 
paring to  be  avenged  for  the  triumph  of  Pavia. 

Charles  did  not  hesitate.  He  wheeled  to  the  right 
as  quickly  as  the  pope  had  done  to  the  left,  and  turned 
abruptly  towards  the  evangelical  princes.  "Let  us 
suspend  the  edict  of  Worms,"  wrote  he  to  his  brother ; 
"let  us  bring  back  Luther's  parlizans  by  mildness, 
and  by  a  good  council  cause  tlio  triumpli  of  evan- 
gelical truth."  At  the  same  time  he  demanded  that 
the  elector,  the  landgrave,  and  their  allies,  should  march 
with  him  against  the  Turks,  or  against  Italy,  for  the 
common  good  of  Christendom. 

Ferdinand  hesitated.  To  gain  the  friendship  of  the 
Lutherans  was  to  forfeit  that  of  the  other  princes,  who 
were  already  begiiuiing  to  utter  violent  threats.  The 
Protestauts  themselves  were  not  very  eager  to  take  the 
emperor's  hand.  "  It  is  God,  God  himself,"  they  said, 
"  who  will  save  Ilis  cliurchcs." 

What  was  to  be  done?  The  edict  of  Worms  could 
neither  bo  repealed  nor  carried  into  execution. 

So  strange  a  situation  led  of  necessity  to  the  desired 
solution — religious  liberty.  The  first  idea  of  this 
occurred  to  the  deputies  of  the  cities.  "In  one  place," 
said  they,  "the  ancient  ceremonies  have  been  pre- 
served; in  another  they  have  been  abolished;  and 
both  think  they  arc  right.  Let  us  allow  every  man  to 
do  as  he  thinks  lit,  until  a  council  shall  re-establish 
the  desired  unity  by  the  Word  of  God."  This  idea 
gained  favour,  and  the  recess  of  the  diet,  dated  the 
17tli  August,  decreed  that  a  universal,  or  at  least  a 
national  free  council,  should  be  convoked  within  a  year; 
that  they  should  request  the  emperor  to  return  speedily 
to  Germany;  and  that,  until  then,  each  state  should 
behave  in  its  own  territory  in  such  a  manner  its  to  be 
able  to  render  an  account  to  God  and  to  the  emperor. 

Tlius  they  escaped  from  their  ditliculty  by  a  middle 
course;  and  this  time  it  was  really  the  true  path. 
Each  one  maintained  his  rights,  while  recognising 
another's.  The  diet  of  1526  forms  an  important  epoch 
in  history :  an  ancient  power,  that  of  the  Middle  Ages, 
is  shaken ;  a  new  power,  that  of  modern  times,  is 
advancing ;  religious  liberty  boldly  takes  its  stand  in 
front  of  Komish  despotism ;  a  lay  spirit  prevails  over 
the  sacerdotal  spirit.  In  this  single  step  there  is  a 
complete  victory :  the  cause  of  the  reform  is  won. 

Yet  it  was  little  suspected.  Luther,  on  the  morrow 
of  the  day  on  which  the  I'ecess  was  published,  wrote  to 
a  friend :  "The  diet  is  sitting  at  Spires  in  the  German 
fashion.  They  drink  and  gamble,  and  there  is  nothing 
done  except  that."  "ie  congres  danse  ct  ne  marche 
pas,"  has  been  said  in  our  days.  Great  things  arc 
often  transacted  under  an  appearance  of  frivolity,  and 
God  accomplishes  His  designs  unknown  even  to  tliose 
whom  He  employs  as  His  instruments.  In  this  diet  a 
gravity  and  love  of  liberty  of  conscience  were  mani- 
fested, which  are  the  fruits  of  Christianity,  and  which 
in  the  sixteenth  century  had  its  earliest,  if  not  its  most 
energetic  development,  among  the  German  nations. 

Yet  Ferdinand  still  hesitated.  Mohammed  himself 
came  to  the  aid  of  the  Gospel.  Louis,  king  of  Hungary 
and  Bohemia,  drowned  at  Mohacz  on  the  29th  August, 
1526,  as  he  was  fleeing  from  before  Soliman  II.,  had 
bequeathed  the  crown  of  these  two  kingdoms  to  Ferdi- 


nand. But  the  Duke  of  Bavaria,  the  Waywodo  of 
Transylvania,  and,  above  all,  the  terrible  Soliman, 
contested  it  against  him.  This  was  sulRcient  to  occupy 
Charles's  brother :  he  left  Luther,  and  hastened  to  dis- 
pute two  throucs. 


CHAPTER  II 

Italian  War-tho  Emperor's  Manifesto— Marcli  on  Home— Revolt  of  tlio 
Troops— Tlio  Sack  of  Rome— German  Humours— Violence  of  the  Spani- 
ards-Clement VII.  Capitulates. 

The  emperor  immediately  reaped  the  fruits  of  his  new 
policy.  No  longer  having  his  hands  tied  by  Germany, 
he  turned  them  against  Home.  The  Reformation  was 
to  be  exalted  and  the  Papacy  abased.  The  blows 
aimed  at  its  pitiless  enemy  were  about  to  open  a  new 
career  to  the  evangelical  work. 

Ferdinand,  who  was  detained  by  his  Hungarian 
affaii-s,  gave  the  charge  of  the  Italian  expedition  to 
Freundsberg,  that  old  general  who  had  in  so  friendly 
a  manner  patted  Luther  ou  the  shoulder  as  the  re- 
former was  about  to  appear  before  the  Diet  of  Worms. 
This  veteran  who,  as  a  contemporary  observes,  "  bore 
in  his  chivalrous  heart  God's  holy  Gospel,  well  fortified 
and  flanked  by  a  strong  wall,"  pledged  his  wife's  jewels, 
sent  recruiting  parties  into  all  the  towns  of  Upper 
Germany,  and,  owing  to  the  magic  idea  of  a  war 
against  the  pope,  soon  witnessed  crowds  of  soldiers 
flocking  to  his  standard.  "Announce,"  Charles  had 
said  to  his  brother, — '•  announce  that  the  army  is  to 
march  against  the  Turks ;  every  one  will  know  what 
Turks  are  meant." 

Thus  the  puissant  Charles,  instead  of  marching  with 
the  pope  against  the  Reformation,  .is  he  had  threatened 
at  Seville,  marches  with  the  Reformation  against  the 
pope.  A  few  days  had  sufliced  to  produce  this  change 
of  direction ;  there  arc  few  periods  of  history  in  which 
the  hand  of  God  is  more  plainly  manifested.  Charles 
immediately  assumed  all  the  airs  of  a  reformer.  On 
the  17th  September  he  addressed  a  manifesto  to  the 
pope,  in  which  he  reproaches  him  for  behaving,  not 
like  the  father  of  the  faithful,  but  like  an  insolent  and 
haughty  man ;  and  declares  his  astonishment  that  he, 
Christ's  vicar,  should  dare  shed  blood  to  acquire  earthly 
possessions,  " which,"  added  he,  "is  quite  contrary  to 
the  evangelical  doctrine."  Luther  could  not  have 
spoken  better.  "Let  your  holiness,"  continued  Charles 
the  Fifth,  "return  the  sword  of  vSt.  Peter  into  the 
scabbard,  and  convoke  a  holy  and  universal  council." 
But  the  sword  was  much  more  to  the  pontiff's  taste 
than  the  council.  Is  not  the  papacy,  according  to  the 
Romish  doctors,  the  source  of  the  two  powers?  Can 
it  not  depose  kings,  and  consequently  fight  against 
them?  Charles  prepared  to  requite  ei/e  for  eye,  and 
tooth  for  tooth. 

Now  began  that  terrible  campaign  during  which  the 
storin  burst  on  Rome  and  on  the  Papacy  that  had 
been  destined  to  fall  on  Germany  and  the  Gospel.  By 
the  violence  of  the  blows  inflicted  ou  the  pontifical 
city,  we  may  judge  of  the  severity  of  those  that  would 


412 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


liave  dashed  in  pieces  the  reformed  churches.  "While 
retracing  such  scenes  of  horror,  we  Iiave  constant 
need  of  calling  to  mind  that  the  chastisement  of  the 
seven-hilled  city  had  been  predicted  by  the  Holy 
Scriptures.' 

In  the  month  of  November,  Freundsberg,  at  the 
head  of  fifteen  thousand  men,  was  at  the  foot  of  the 
Alps.  The  old  general,  avoiding  the  military  roads, 
that  were  well  guarded  by  the  enemy,  flung  himself 
into  a  narrow  path,  over  frightful  precipices,  that  a 
few  blows  of  the  mattock  would  have  rendered  im- 
passable. The  soldiers  were  forbidden  to  look  behind 
them;  nevertheless  their  heads  turned,  their  feet 
slipped,  and  horse  and  foot  rolled  from  time  to  time 
into  the  abyss.  In  the  most  difficult  passes,  the  surest- 
footed  of  the  infantry  lowered  their  long  pikes  to  the 
right  and  left  of  their  aged  chief  by  way  of  barrier, 
and  Freundsberg  advanced,  clinging  to  the  lansquenet 
in  front,  and  pushed  ou  by  the  one  behind.  In  three 
days  the  Alps  were  crossed,  and  on  the  lOtli  November 
the  army  reached  the  territory  of  Brescia. 

The  constable  of  Bourbon,  who  succeeded  to  the 
chief  command  of  the  imperial  army  after  the  death  of 
Pescara,  had  just  taken  possession  of  the  duchy  of 
Milan.  The  emperor  having  promised  him  this  con- 
quest for  a  recompense,  Bourbon  was  compelled  to 
remain  there  some  time  to  consolidate  his  power.  At 
length,  on  the  12tli  February,  he  and  his  Spanish 
troops  joined  the  army  of  Freundsberg,  which  was 
becoming  impatient  at  his  delays.  The  constable  had 
many  men,  but  no  money;  he  resolved,  therefore,  to 
follow  the  advice  of  the  Duke  of  Ferrara,  that  in- 
veterate enemy  of  the  princes  of  the  Church,  and 
proceed  straight  to  Rome.  The  whole  army  received 
this  news  with  a  shout  of  joy.  The  Spaniards  were 
filled  with  the  desire  of  avenging  Charles  V.,  and  the 
Germans  were  overflowing  with  hatred  against  the 
pope ;  all  exulted  in  the  hope  of  receiving  their  pay, 
and  of  having  their  labours  richly  repaid  at  last  by 
those  treasures  of  Christendom  that  Rome  had  been 
accumulating  for  ages.  Their  shouts  re-echoed  beyond 
the  Alps.  Every  man  in  Germany  thought  that  the 
last  hour  of  the  papacy  had  arrived,  and  prepared  to 
contemplate  its  fall.  '-The  emperor's  forces  are 
triumphing  in  Italy,"  wrote  Luther ;  "  the  pope  is 
visited  from  every  quarter.  His  destruction  di-aweth 
nigh  :  his  hour  and  his  end  are  come." 

A  few  slight  advantages  gained  by  the  papal  soldiers 
in  the  kingdom  of  Naples  led  to  the  conclusion  of  a 
truce  that  was  to  be  ratified  by  the  pope  aud  by  the 
emperor.  As  soon  as  this  was  known,  a  frightful 
tumult  broke  out  in  the  constable's  army.  The  Span- 
ish troops  revolted,  compelled  him  to  flee,  and  pillaged 
his  tent.  Then,  approaching  the  lansquenets,  they 
began  to  shout  as  loudly  as  they  could,  the  only 
German  words  they  knew:  '■'■Lance!  lance!  money! 
money!"  Such  cries  found  an  echo  in  the  bosoms  of 
the  Imperialists ;  they  were  moved  in  their  turn,  and 
also  began  to  shout  with  all  their  might :  "  Lance  ! 
lance  !  money  !  money  !"  Freundsberg  beat  to  muster, 
aud  having  drawn  up  the  soldiers  around  him  and  his 
principal   officers,  calmly   demanded  if  he  had  ever 

1  Rev.  xviii.  We  should  not,  however,  restrict  this  prediction  to  the  in- 
complete sack  of  1527,  from  which  the  city  recovered. 


deserted  them.  All  was  useless.  The  old  affection 
which  the  lansquenets  bore  to  their  leader  seemed 
extinct.  One  chord  alone  vibrated  in  their  hearts : 
they  must  have  pay  and  war.  Accordingly,  lowering 
their  lauces,  they  presented  them  as  if  they  would  slay 
their  officers,  and  again  began  to  shout,  "  Lance ! 
lance!  money!  money!"  When  Freimdsbcrg,  whom 
no  army  however  large  had  ever  frightened — Freunds- 
berg, who  was  accustomed  to  say,  "the  more  enemies, 
the  greater  the  honour,"  saw  these  lansquenets,  at  whose 
head  he  had  grown  grey,  aiming  their  murderous  steel 
against  him,  he  lost  all  power  of  utterance,  and  fell 
senseless  upon  a  drum,  as  if  struck  with  a  thunderbolt. 
The  strength  of  the  veteran  general  was  broken  for 
ever.  But  the  sight  of  their  dying  captain  produced 
on  the  lansquenets  an  effect  that  no  speech  could  have 
made.  All  the  lances  were  upraised,  and  the  agitated 
soldiers  retired  with  downcast  eyes.  Four  days  later 
Freundsberg  recovered  his  speech.  "  Forward,"  said 
he  to  the  constable  ;  "  God  himself  will  bring  us  to  the 
mark."  "Forward!  forward!"  repeated  the  lansque- 
nets. Bourbon  had  no  alternative :  besides,  neither 
Charles  nor  Clement  would  listen  to  any  proposals  of 
peace.  Freundsberg  was  carried  to  Ferrara,  and 
afterwards  to  his  castle  of  Mindelheim,  where  he  died 
after  an  illness  of  eighteen  months  ;  and,  on  the  18th 
April,  Bourbon  took  that  high  road  to  Rome  which  so 
many  formidable  armies  coming  from  the  north  had 
already  trodden. 

Whilst  the  storm  descending  from  the  Alps  was 
approaching  the  eternal  city,  the  pope  lost  his  presence 
of  mind,  sent  away  his  troops,  and  kept  only  his  body- 
guard. More  than  30,000  Romans,  capable  of  bearing 
arms,  paraded  their  bravery  in  the  streets,  dragging 
their  long  swords  after  them,  quarrelling  and  fighting ; 
but  these  citizens,  eager  in  the  pursuit  of  gain,  had 
little  thought  of  defending  the  pope;  and  hoping  to 
derive  great  profit  from  his  stay,  they  desired,  on  the 
contrary,  that  the  magnificent  Charles  would  come  and 
settle  in  Rome. 

On  the  evening  of  the  5th  May,  Bourbon  arrived 
under  the  walls  of  the  capital;  and  he  would  have 
begun  the  assault  at  that  very  moment  had  he  been 
provided  with  ladders.  On  the  morning  of  the 
6th,  the  army,  concealed  by  a  thick  fog  which  hid 
their  movements,  was  put  in  motion,  the  Spaniards 
marching  to  their  station  above  the  gate  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  and  the  Germans  below.  The  constable,  wish- 
ing to  encourage  his  soldiers,  seized  a  scaling-ladder, 
mounted  the  wall,  and  called  on  them  to  follow  him. 
At  this  moment  a  ball  struck  him  :  he  fell,  and  expired 
an  hour  after.  Such  was  the  end  of  this  unhappy 
man,  a  traitor  to  his  king  and  to  his  country,  and  sus- 
pected even  by  his  new  friends. 

His  death,  far  from  checking,  served  only  to  excite 
the  army.  Claudius  Seidenstucker,  grasping  his  long 
sword,  first  cleared  the  wall ;  he  was  followed  by 
Michael  Hartmann,  and  these  two  reformed  Germans 
exclaimed  that  God  himself  was  marching  before  them 
in  the  clouds.  The  gates  were  opened,  the  army 
poured  in,  the  suburbs  were  taken,  and  the  pope, 
surrounded  by  thirteen  cardinals,  fled  to  the  castle  of 
St.  Angelo.  The  Imperialists,  at  whose  head  was  now 
the  Prince  of  Orange,  offered  him  peace  on  condition 


THE  SACK  OF  ROME. 


413 


of  his  paying  300,000  crowns.  But  Clement,  who 
thought  that  tlie  holy  league  was  on  the  point  of  de- 
livering him,  and  fancied  he  already  saw  their  lead- 
ing horsemen,  rejected  every  proposition.  After  four 
hours'  repose  the  attack  was  renewed,  and  by  sunset 
the  army  was  master  of  all  the  city.  It  remained 
luidor  aiins  and  in  good  order  until  midnight,  the 
Spaniards  in  the  Piazza  Navona,  and  the  Germans  in 
the  Campofiore.  At  last,  seeing  no  demonstrations 
cither  of  war  or  peace,  the  soldiers  disbanded,  and  ran 
to  pillage. 

Then  began  the  famous  "Sack  of  Rome."  The 
papacy  had  for  centuries  put  Christendom  in  the  press. 
Prebends,  annates,  jubilees,  ))ilgrimiigcs,  ecclesiastical 
graces, — she  had  made  money  of  them  all.  These 
greedy  troops,  that  for  months  had  lived  in  wretched- 
ness, determined  to  make  her  disgorge.  No  one  was 
spared,  the  imperial  not  more  than  the  ultramontane 
party,  the  Ghibellines  not  more  than  the  Guelfs. 
Churches,  palaces,  convents,  private  houses,  basilisks, 
banks,  tombs — everything  was  pillaged,  even  to  the 
golden  ring  that  the  corpse  of  Julius  II.  still  wore  on 
its  finger.  The  Spaniards  displayed  the  greatest  skill, 
scenting  out  and  discovering  treasures  in  the  most 
mysterious  hiding-places;  but  the  Neapolitans  were 
the  most  outrageous.  "  On  every  side  were  heard," 
says  Guicciardiui,  "the  piteous  shrieks  of  the  Roman 
women  and  of  the  nuns,  whom  the  soldiers  dragged 
away  by  companies  to  satiate  their  lust." 

At  first  the  Germans  found  a  certain  pleasure  in 
making  the  papists  feel  the  weight  of  their  swords. 
15ut  ere  long,  happy  at  procuring  victuals  and  drink, 
they  were  more  pacific  than  their  allies.  It  Wiis  upon 
those  things  whicli  the  liomans  called  "  holy  "  that  the 
anger  of  the  Lutherans  was  especially  discharged. 
They  took  away  the  chalices,  the  pyxes,  the  silver 
remontranccs,  and  clothed  their  servants  and  camp- 
boys  witli  the  sacerdotal  garments.  The  Campofiore 
was  changed  into  an  immense  gambling-house.  The 
soldiers  brought  thither  golden  vessels  and  bags  full  of 
crowns,  staked  them  upon  one  throw  of  the  dice,  and 
after  losing  them  went  in  search  of  othcis.  A  certain 
Simon  Baptista,  who  had  foretold  the  sack  of  the 
city,  had  been  thrown  into  prison  by  the  pope, — the 
Germans  liberated  him,  and  made  him  drink  with 
tliem.  But,  like  Jeremiah,  he  prophesied  against  all : 
"  Rob,  plunder,"  cried  he  to  his  liberators ;  "  you  shall, 
however,  give  back  all, — the  money  of  the  soldiers,  and 
the  gold  of  the  priests,  will  follow  the  same  road." 

Nothing  pleased  the  Germans  more  than  to  mock 
the  papal  court.  "  Many  prelates,"  says  Guicciardiui, 
"  were  paraded  on  ivsses  through  all  the  city  of 
Rome."  After  this  procession,  the  bishops  paid  their 
ransom  ;  but  they  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Spaniards, 
who  made  them  pay  it  a  second  time. 

One  day  a  lansquenet,  named  Guillaume  de  Saiute 
Celle,  put  on  the  pope's  robes,  and  placed  the  triple 
crown  upon  his  head;  others  gathered  round  him, 
adorning  themselves  with  the  red  hats  and  long  robes 
of  the  cardinals ;  and,  going  in  procession  upon  asses 
through  the  streets  of  the  city,  they  all  arrived  at 
last  before  the  castle  of  St.  Angclo,  to  which  Clement 
VII.  had  retired.  Here  the  soldier-cardinals  alighted, 
and  lifting  up  the  front  of  their  robes,  kissed  the  feet 


of  the  pretended  pontiff.  The  latter  drank  to  the 
health  of  Clement  VII.,  the  cardinals  kneeling  did  the 
same,  and  exclaimed  that  henceforward  they  would  be 
pious  pcjpes  and  good  cardinals,  careful  not  to  excite 
wars  :»s  their  predecessors  had  done.  They  then 
formed  a  conclave,  and  the  pope  having  announced  to 
his  consistory  that  it  was  his  intention  to  resign  the 
papacy,  all  hands  were  immediately  raised  for  the 
election,  aud  they  cried  out,  "Luther  is  pope!  Luther 
is  pope! "  Never  had  pontiff  been  proclaimed  with 
such  perfect  unanimity.  Such  were  the  humours  of 
the  Germans. 

The  Spaniards  did  not  let  the  Romans  off  so  easily. 
Clement  VII.  Iiad  called  them  "  Moors,"  and  had  pub- 
lished a  plenary  indulgence  for  whoever  should  kill 
any  of  them.  Nothing,  therefore,  could  restrain  their 
fury.  These  faithful  Catholics  put  the  prelates  to  death 
in  the  midst  of  horrible  cruelties,  destined  to  extort 
their  treasures  from  them :  they  spared  neither  rank, 
sex,  nor  age.  It  was  not  until  the  sack  had  lasted  ten 
days,  and  a  booty  of  ten  millions  of  golden  crowns  had 
been  collected,  and  from  five  to  eight  thousand  victims 
had  perished,  that  quiet  began  to  be  in  some  degree 
restored. 

Thus  did  the  pontifical  city  decline  in  the  midst  of  a 
long  and  cruel  pillage,  and  that  splendour  with  which 
Rome  from  the  beginning  of  the  sixteenth  century  had 
filled  the  world,  faded  in  a  few  hours.  Nothing  could 
preserve  this  haughty  capital  from  chastisement,  not 
even  the  prayers  of  its  enemies.  "  I  would  not  have 
Rome  burnt,"  Luther  had  exclaimed  ;  "  it  would  be  a 
monstrous  deed."  The  fears  of  Mclancthon  were  still 
keener  :  "  I  tremble  for  the  libraries,"  said  he ;  "  we 
know  how  hatefid  books  arc  to  Mars."  But  in  despite 
of  these  wishes  of  the  reformers,  the  city  of  Leo  X. 
fell  under  the  judgment  of  God. 

Clement  VII.,  besieged  in  the  castle  of  St.  Angclo, 
and  fearful  that  the  enemy  would  blow  his  asylum 
into  the  air  with  their  mines,  at  last  capitulated.  He 
renounced  every  alliance  against  Charles  the  Fifth, 
and  bouud  himself  to.  remain  a  prisoner  until  he  had 
paid  the  army  four  hundred  thousand  ducats.  The 
evangelical  Christians  gazed  with  astonishment  on  this 
judgment  of  the  Lord.  "  Such,"  said  they,  "  is  the 
empire  of  Jesus  Christ,  that  the  emperor,  pursuing 
Luther  on  behalf  of  the  pope,  is  constrained  to  ruin 
the  pope  instead  of  Luther.  All  things  minister  unto 
the  Lord,  aud  turn  against  His  adversaries." 


CHAPTER  III. 

rroatable  Calm— Constitution  of  the  Church— Philip  of  Hesse -The  Monk 
of  Marburg— Lambert's  Paradoxes— Friar  Boniface — Disputation  at 
Ilambiu^— Triumph  of  the  Gospel  in  Hesse— Constitution  of  the  Church 
—Bishops — SjTiods — Two  Elements  of  the  Church— Luther  on  the 
Ministry— Organization  of  the  Church  —  Luther's  Contradictions  on 
State  Interference- Luther.to  the  Elector — German  Mass — Melancthon's 
Instructions  —  Disaffection — Visitation  of  the  Reformed  Churches— 
Kcsults— The  Reformation  advances — Elizabeth  of  Brandenburg. 

The  Reformation  needed  some  years  of  repose,  that  it 
might  increase  and  gain  strength;  and  it  could  not 


414 


HISTORY  OF  THE  EEFORMATION. 


enjoy  peace,  unless  its  great  enemies  were  at  war  with 
each  other.  The  madness  of  Clement  VII.  was,  as  it 
were,  tlie  lightning-conductor  of  the  Eeformation,  and 
the  ruins  of  Rome  built  up  the  Gospel.  It  was  not 
only  a  few  months'  gain;  from  152G  to  1520  there 
was  a  calm  in  Germany,  by  which  the  Eeformation 
profited  to  organize  and  extend  itself.  A  constitution 
was  now  to  be  given  to  the  renovated  Church. 

As  the  papal  yoke  had  been  broken,  the  ecclesiasti- 
cal order  required  to  be  re-established.  It  was  impos- 
sible to  restore  their  ancient  jurisdiction  to  the  bishops; 
for  these  continental  prelates  maintained  that  they 
were,  in  an  especial  manner,  the  pope's  servants.  A 
new  state  of  things  was  therefore  called  for,  under 
pain  of  seeing  the  Church  fall  into  anarchy.  This 
was  immediately  provided  against.  It  was  then  that 
the  evangelical  nations  separated  definitely  from  that 
despotic  dominion  which  had  for  ages  kept  all  the 
West  in  bondage. 

The  diet  had  already,  on  two  occasions,  wished  to 
make  the  reform  of  the  Church  a  national  work, — the 
emperor,  the  pope,  and  a  few  princes,  were  opposed 
to  it ;  the  Diet  of  Spires  had,  therefore,  resigned  to 
each  state  the  task  that  it  could  not  accomplish  itself. 

But  what  constitution  were  they  about  to  substitute 
for  the  papal  hierarchy? 

They  could,  while  suppressing  the  pope,  preserve 
the  episcopal  order:  it  was  the  form  nearest  approxi- 
mating that  which  was  on  the  point  of  being  destroyed. 
This  was  done  in  England,  where  we  have  an  Episco- 
palian Church ;  but,  as  we  have  just  observed,  it  could 
not  be  realized  on  the  continent.  There  were  no 
Latimers,  no  Cranmers,  among  the  continental  bishops. 

They  might,  on  the  contrary,  re-construct  the  eccle- 
siastical order,  by  having  recourse  to  the  sovereignty 
of  God's  Word,  and  by  re-establishing  the  rights  of 
the  Christian  people.  "This  form  was  the  most  remote 
from  the  Roman  hierarchy.  Between  these  two  ex- 
tremes there  were  several  middle  courses. 

The  latter  plan  was  Zwingle's;  but  the  reformer 
of  Zurich  had  not  fully  carried  it  out.  He  had  not 
called  upon  the  Christian  people  to  exercise  the  sove- 
reignty, and  had  stopped  at  the  Council  of  Two  Hun- 
dred as  representing  the  Church. 

The  step  before  which  Zwingle  had  hesitated  might 
be  taken,  and  it  was  so.  A  prince  did  not  shrink 
from  what  had  alarmed  even  republicans.  Evangeli- 
cal Germany,  at  the  moment  when  she  began  to  try 
her  hand  on  ecclesiastical  constitutions,  began  with 
that  which  trenched  deepest  on  the  papal  monarchy. 

It  was  not,  however,  from  Germany  that  such  a 
system  could  ])roceed.  If  aristocratic  England  was 
destined  to  cling  to  the  episcopal  form,  docile  Ger- 
many was  destined  the  rather  to  stop  in  a  govern- 
mental medium.  The  democratic  extreme  issued  from 
Switzerland  and  France.  One  of  Calvin's  predecessors 
now  hoisted  that  flag  which  the  powerful  arm  of  the 
Genevesc  reformer  was  to  lift  again  in  after  years,  and 
plant  in  France,  Switzerland,  Holland,  Scotland,  and 
even  in  England,  whence  it  was,  a  century  later,  to 
cross  the  Atlantic,  and  summon  North  America  to  take 
its  rank  among  the  nations. 

Philip  of  Hesse,  who  has  been  compared  to  Philip 
of  Macedon  in  subtlety,  and  to  his  son  Alexander  in 


courage,  was  the  most  enterprising  of  all  the  evangeli- 
cal princes.  Philip  comprehended  that  religion  was 
at  length  acquiring  its  due  importance ;  and  far  from 
opposing  the  great  development  that  was  agitating 
the  people,  ho  put  himself  in  harmony  with  the  new 
ideas. 

The  morning-star  had  risen  for  Hesse  almost  at  the 
same  time  as  for  Saxony.  In  1517,  when  Luther,  in 
Wittemberg,  was  preaching  the  gratuitous  remission  of 
sins,  men  and  women  in  Marburg  were  seen  repamug 
secretly  to  one  of  the  ditches  of  the  city,  and  there, 
collected  round  a  solitary  loophole,  listening  eagerly 
to  the  words  of  consolation  that  issued  from  within. 
It  was  tlie  voice  of  the  Franciscan,  James  Limburg, 
who,  having  declared  that  for  fifteen  centuries  the 
priests  had  falsified  the  Gospel  of  Christ,  had  been 
thrown  into  this  gloomy  dungeon.  These  mysterious 
assemblies  lasted  a  fortnight.  On  a  sudden  the  voice 
was  silent ;  these  lonely  meetings  had  been  discovered, 
and  the  Franciscan,  torn  from  his  cell,  had  been  hur- 
ried away  across  the  Lahnberg  towards  some  unknown 
spot.  Not  far  from  the  Ziegenberg,  some  weeping 
citizens  of  Marburg  came  up  with  him,  and  hastily 
pulling  aside  the  awning  that  covered  his  car,  they 
asked  him  :  "  Whither  are  you  going  ?" — "  Where  God 
wills,"  calmly  replied  the  friar.  He  was  never  heard 
of  again,  and  it  is  not  known  what  became  of  him. 
These  disappearances  are  usual  in  the  papacy. 

No  sooner  had  Philip  prevailed  in  the  Diet  of  Spires, 
than  he  resolved  on  devoting  himself  to  the  reforma- 
tion of  his  hereditary  states. 

His  resolute  character  made  him  incline  towards 
the  Swiss  reform:  it  was  not,  therefore,  one  of  the 
moderates  that  he  wanted.  He  had  formed  a  connec- 
tion at  Spires  with  James  Sturm,  the  deputy  from 
Strasburg,  who  spoke  to  him  of  Francis  Lambert  of 
Avignon,  who  was  then  at  Strasburg.  Of  a  pleasing 
exterior  and  decided  character,  Lambert  combined 
with  the  fire  of  the  south  all  the  perseverance  of  the 
north.  He  was  the  first  in  France  to  throw  off  the 
cowl,  and  from  that  time  he  had  never  ceased  to  call 
for  a  thorough  reform  in  the  Church.  "  Formerly," 
said  he,  "  when  I  was  a  hypocrite,  I  lived  in  abund- 
ance ;  now  I  consume  frugally  my  daily  bread  with 
my  small  family;  but  I  had  rather  bo  poor  in  Christ's 
kingdom  than  possess  abundance  of  gold  in  the  disso- 
lute dwellings  of  the  pope."  The  landgrave  saw  that 
Lambert  was  just  the  man  he  required,  and  invited 
him  to  his  court. 

Lambert,  desiring  to  clear  the  way  for  the  refor- 
mation of  Hesse,  drew  up  one  hundred  and  fifty-eight 
theses,  which  he  entitled  "Paradoxes,"  and  posted 
them,  according  to  the  custom  of  the  times,  on  the 
church  doors. 

Friends  and  enemies  immediately  crowded  round 
them.  Some  Roman  Catholics  would  have  torn  them 
down,  but  the  reformed  townspeople  kept  watch,  and 
holding  a  synod  in  the  public  square,  discussed,  de- 
veloped, and  proved  these  propositions,  ridiculing  at 
the  same  time  the  anger  of  the  papists. 

Boniface  Dorneraann,  a  young  priest,  full  of  self- 
conceit,  whom  the  bishop,  on  the  day  of  his  consecra- 
tion, had  extolled  above  Paul  for  his  learnuig,  and 
above  the  Virgin  for  his  chastity,  finding  himself  too 


LAMBERT'S  PARADOXES. 


short  to  rciich  Lambert's  placard,  borrowed  a  stool, 
and,  surrouuded  by  a  numerous  audience,  began  to 
read  the  propositions  aloud. 

"All  that  is  deformed  ought  to  be  reformed.  Tlio 
Word  of  God  alone  teaches  us  what  ought  to  be  so, 
and  all  reform  that  is  effected  otherwise  is  v.iin." 

This  was  the  lirst  llicses.  "Hem! '  said  the  young 
priest,  "  I  shall  not  attack  that."     lie  continued : 

"  It  belongs  to  tlie  Cliurch  to  judge  on  matters  of 
faith.  Now  the  Church  is  the  congregation  of  those 
who  are  united  by  the  same  Spirit,  the  same  faith,  the 
same  God,  the  same  Mediator,  the  same  Word,  by 
which  alone  they  arc  governed,  and  in  which  alone 
they  have  life." 

"  I  cannot  attack  that  proposition,"  said  the  priest. 
lie  continued  reading  from  his  stool. 

"Tiie  Word  is  the  true  key.  Tlie  kingdom  of 
heaven  is  open  to  him  who  believes  the  Word,  and 
shut  against  him  who  believes  it  not.  Whoever, 
therefore,  truly  possesses  the  Word  of  God,  has  the 
power  of  the  keys.  All  other  keys,  all  the  decrees  of 
the  councils  and  popes,  and  all  the  rules  of  the  monks, 
are  valueless." 

Friar  Boniface  shook  his  head  aud  continued  : 
'•  Since  the  priesthood  of  the  law  has  been  abolished, 
Christ  is  the  only  immortal  and  eternal  priest,  and  He 
docs  not,  like  men,  need  a  successor.  Neither  the 
Bishop  of  Rome,  nor  any  other  person  in  the  world,  is 
His  representative  here  below.  But  all  Christians, 
since  the  commencement  of  the  Church,  have  been  and 
arc  participators  in  His  priesthood." 

This  proposition  smelt  of  heresy.  Dornemann, 
however,  was  not  discouraged;  aud  whether  it  was 
from  weakness  of  mind,  or  from  the  dawning  of  light, 
at  each  proposition  that  did  not  too  niucli  shock  his 
prejudices,  he  repeated:  "Certainly  I  sluill  not  attack 
that  one  !"  The  jjcople  listened  in  iistoiiislinicnt,  when 
one  of  them,  (whether  he  was  a  fanatical  Koniauist,  a 
fanatical  reformer,  or  a  mischievous  wag,  I  cannot 
tell,)  tired  with  these  continual  repetitions,  exclaimed  : 
"  Get  down,  you  knave,  who  cannot  iind  a  word  to 
impugn."  Then,  rudely  pulling  away  the  stool,  be 
threw  the  unfortunate  clerk  flat  in  the  mud. 

On  the  21st  October,  at  seven  in  the  morning,  the 
gates  of  the  principal  church  at  Homburg  were  thrown 
open,  and  prelates,  abbots,  priests,  counts,  knights, 
and  deputies  of  the  towns,  entered  in  succession,  and 
among  them  was  Philip,  in  his  quality  of  first  member 
of  the  Church. 

After  Lambert  had  explained  and  proved  his  theses, 
he  added :  "  Let  him  stand  forth  who  has  anything  to 
say  against  them."  At  first  there  was  a  profound 
silence  ;  but  at  length  Nicholas  Ferber,  superior  of 
the  Franciscans  of  Marburg,  who  in  1524,  applying  to 
Rome's  favourite  argument,  had  entreated  the  laud- 
grave  to  employ  the  sword  against  the  heretics,  began 
to  speak  with  drooping  head  and  downcast  eyes.  As 
he  invoked  Augustine,  Peter  Lombard,  aud  other 
doctors  to  his  assistance,  the  landgi-ave  observed  to 
him :  "  Do  not  put  forward  the  wavering  opinions  of 
men,  but  the  Word  of  God,  which  alone  fortifies  and 
strengthens  our  hearts."  The  Franciscan  sat  down  in 
confusion,  saying,  "  This  is  not  the  place  for  replying." 
The  disputation,  however,  recommenced,  and  Lambert, 


shewing  all  the  power  of  truth,  so  astonished  his  adver- 
sary, that  the  superior,  alarmed  at  what  he  called 
"  thunders  of  blasphemy,  and  lightnings  of  impiety," 
sat  down  again,  observing  a  second  time,  "  This  is  not 
the  place  for  reply." 

In  vain  did  the  Chancellor  Feigc  declare  to  him 
that  each  man  had  the  right  of  maintaining  his  opinion 
with  full  liberty;  in  vain  did  the  landgrave  liimself 
exclaim  that  the  Church  was  sighing  after  truth : 
silence  had  become  Rome's  refuge.  "I  will  defend 
the  doctrine  of  purgatory,"  a  priest  had  said  prior  to 
the  discussion;  "I  will  attack  tlic  paradoxes  under  the 
sixtli  head,  (on  the  true  priesthood,)"  had  said  another; 
and  a  third  had  exclaimed :  "  I  will  overthrow  those 
under  the  tenth  head,  (on  images ;)"  but  now  they  were 
all  dumb. 

Upon  this  Lambert,  clasping  his  hands,  exclaimed 
with  Zacharias  :  ^^  Blessed  be  the  Lord  God  of  Israel; 
for  He  hath  visited  and  redeemed  His  people," 

After  three  days  of  discussion,  which  had  been  a 
continual  triumph  for  the  evangelical  doctrine,  men 
were  selected  and  commissioned  to  constitute  the 
churches  of  Ilessc  in  accordance  with  the  Word  of 
God.  They  were  more  than  throe  days  occupied  in 
the  task,  and  their  new  constitution  was  then  pub- 
lished in  the  name  of  the  synod. 

The  first  ecclesiastical  constitution  produced  by  the 
Reformation  should  have  a  place  in  history,  and  the 
more  so  as  it  was  then  put  forward  as  a  model  for  the 
new  churches  of  Christendom. 

The  autonomy  or  self-government  of  the  Church  is 
its  fundamental  principle ;  it  is  from  the  Church,  from 
its  representatives  assembled  in  the  name  of  the  Lord, 
that  this  legislation  emanates ;  there  is  no  mention  in 
the  prologue  either  of  state  or  of  landgrave.  Philip, 
content  with  having  broken  for  himself  and  for  his 
people  the  yoke  of  a  foreign  priest,  had  no  desire  to 
put  himself  in  his  place,  and  was  satisfied  with  that 
external  superintendence  which  is  necessary  for  the 
maintenance  of  order. 

A  second  distinctive  feature  in  this  constitution  is 
its  simplicity  both  of  government  and  worship.  The 
assembly  conjures  all  futiu-c  synods  not  to  load  the 
churches  with  a  multitude  of  ordinances,  "  seeing  that 
where  orders  abound,  disorder  superabounds."  They 
would  not  even  continue  the  organs  in  the  churches, 
"  because,"  said  they,  "  men  should  understand  what 
they  hear."  The  more  the  human  mind  has  been  bent 
in  one  direction,  the  more  violent  is  the  reaction  when 
it  is  unbent.  The  Church  passed  at  that  time  from 
the  extreme  of  symbols  to  the  extreme  of  simplicity. 
These  are  the  principal  features  of  this  constitution  : — 

"The  Church  can  only  be  taught  and  governed  by 
the  Word  of  its  .Sovereign  Pastor.  Whoever  has  re- 
course to  any  other  word  shall  be  deposed  and  excom- 
municated. 

"  Every  pious  man,  learned  in  the  Word  of  God, 
whatever  be  his  condition,  may  be  elected  bishop  if 
he  desire  it,  for  he  is  called  inwardly  of  God. 

"  Let  no  one  believe  that  by  a  bishop  we  understand 
anything  else  than  a  simple  minister  of  the  Word  of 
God. 

"  The  ministers  are  servants,  and  consequently  they 
ought  not  to  be  lords,  princes,  or  governors. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


"  Let  the  faithful  assemble  and  choose  their  bishops 
and  deacons.     Each  church  should  elect  its  own  pastor. 

"Let  those  who  are  elected  bishops  be  consecrated 
to  their  office  by  the  imposition  of  the  hands  of  three 
bishops ;  and  as  for  the  deacons,  if  there  are  no  minis- 
ters present,  let  them  receive  the  laying  on  of  hands 
from  the  elders  of  the  Church. 

"  If  a  bishop  causes  any  scandal  to  the  Church,  by 
his  effeminacy,  by  the  splendour  of  his  garments,  or 
by  levity  of  conduct,  and  if,  on  being  warned,  he  per- 
sists, let  him  be  deposed  by  the  Church. 

"  Let  each  church  place  its  bishop  in  a  condition  to 
live  with  his  family,  and  to  be  hospitable,  as  St.  Paul 
enjoins ;  but  let  the  bishops  exact  nothing  for  their 
casual  duties. 

'•  On  every  Sunday  let  there  be,  in  some  suitable 
place,  an  assembly  of  all  the  men  who  are  in  the  num- 
ber of  the  saints,  to  regulate,  with  the  bishop,  accord- 
ing to  God's  Word,  all  the  affairs  of  the  Church,  and 
to  excommunicate  whoever  gives  occasion  of  scandal 
to  the  Church;  for  the  Church  of  Christ  has  never 
existed  without  exercising  the  power  of  excommunica- 
tion. 

"  As  a  weekly  assembly  is  necessary  for  the  direc- 
tion of  the  particular  churches,  so  a  general  synod 
should  be  held  annually  for  the  direction  of  all  the 
churches  in  the  country. 

"All  the  pastors  are  its  natural  members;  but  each 
church  shall  further  elect  from  its  body  a  man,  full  of 
the  Spirit  and  of  faith,  to  whom  it  shall  entrust  its 
powers  for  all  that  is  in  the  jurisdiction  of  the  synod. 

"  Three  visitors  shall  be  elected  yearly,  with  com- 
mission to  go  through  all  the  churches,  to  examine 
those  who  have  been  elected  bishops,  to  confirm  those 
who  have  been  approved  of,  and  to  provide  for  the 
execution  of  the  decrees  of  the  synod." 

It  will,  no  doubt,  be  found  that  this  first  evangelical 
constitution  went,  in  some  points,  to  the  extreme  of 
ecclesiastical  democracy;  but  certain  institutions  had 
crept  in  that  were  capable  of  increase,  and  of  chang- 
ing its  nature.  Six  superintendents  for  life  were  after- 
wards substituted  for  the  three  annual  visitors,  (who, 
according  to  the  primitive  institution,  might  be  simple 
members  of  the  church ;)  and,  as  has  been  remarked, 
the  encroachments,  whether  of  these  superintendents 
or  of  the  state,  gradually  paralyzed  the  activity  and 
independence  of  the  churches  of  Hesse.  This  constitu- 
tion fared  like  that  of  the  Abbe  Sieyes,  in  the  year  8, 
(a.  d.,  1799,)  which,  intended  to  be  republican,  served, 
through  the  influence  of  Napoleon  Bonaparte,  to  estab- 
lish the  despotism  of  the  empire. 

It  was  not  the  less  a  remarkable  work.  Romish 
doctors  have  reproached  the  Reformation  for  making 
the  Church  a  too  interior  institution.'  In  effect,  the 
Reformation  and  Popery  recognise  two  elements  in 
the  Church — the  one  exterior,  the  other  interior;  but 
while  Popery  gives  precedence  to  the  former,  the  Re- 
formation assigns  it  to  the  latter.  If,  however,  it  be 
a  reproach  against  the  Reformation  for  having  an 
inward  Church  only,  and  for  not  creating  an  external 
one,  the  remarkable  constitution  of  which  we  have 
just  exhibited  a  few  features,  will  save  us  the  trouble 

1  Tliis  is  the  orinion  set  forth  in  the  "Symbolik"  of  Dr.  Mijhkr,  the 
most  celebrated  defender  of  the  Romish  doctrine  among  our  contemporaries. 


of  reply.  The  exterior  ecclesiastical  order,  which  then 
sprung  from  the  very  heart  of  the  Reformation,  is  far 
more  perfect  than  that  of  Popery. 

One  great  question  presented  itself:  Will  these 
principles  be  adopted  by  all  the  churches  of  the  Re- 
formation 1 

Everything  seemed  to  indicate  that  they  would. 
At  that  time  the  most  pious  men  were  of  opinion  that 
the  ecclesiastical  power  proceeded  from  the  members 
of  the  Church.  On  withdrawing  from  the  hierarchi- 
cal extreme,  they  flung  themselves  into  a  democratical 
one.  Luther  himself  had  professed  this  doctrine  as 
early  as  1523.  When  the  Callixtins  of  Bohemia 
found  that  the  bishops  of  their  country  refused  them 
ministers,  they  had  gone  so  far  as  to  take  the  first 
vagabond  priest.  "  If  you  have  no  other  means  of 
procuring  pastors,"  wrote  Luther  to  them,  "  ratiier  do 
without  them,  and  let  each  head  of  a  family  read  the 
Gospel  in  his  own  house,  and  baptize  his  children, 
sighing  after  the  sacrament  of  the  altar,  as  the  Jews 
at  Babylon  did  for  Jerusalem.  The  consecration  of 
the  pope  creates  priests — not  of  God,  but  of  the  devil, 
ordained  solely  to  trample  Jesus  Christ  under  foot,  to 
bring  His  sacrifice  to  naught,  and  to  sell  imaginary 
holocausts  to  the  world  in  His  name.  Men  become 
ministers  only  by  election  and  calling,  and  that  ought 
to  be  effected  in  the  following  manner : — 


"  First,  seek  God  by  prayer ;  then,  being  asse 
together  with  all  those  whose  hearts  God  has  touched, 
choose  in  the  Lord's  name  him  or  them  whom  you 
shall  have  acknowledged  to  be  fitted  for  this  ministry. 
After  tliat,  let  the  chief  men  among  you  lay  their 
hands  on  them,  and  recommend  them  to  the  people 
and  to  the  Church." 

Luther,  in  thus  calling  upon  the  people  alone  to 
nominate  their  pastors,  submitted  to  the  necessities  of 
the  times  in  Bohemia.  It  was  requisite  to  constitute 
the  ministry;  and  as  the  ministry  had  no  existence,  it 
could  not  then  have  the  legitimate  part  that  belongs  to 
it  in  the  choice  of  God's  ministers. 

But  another  necessity,  proceeding  in  like  manner 
from  the  state  of  affairs,  was  to  incline  Luther  to 
deviate  in  Saxony  from  the  principles  he  had  formerly 
laid  down. 

It  can  hardly  be  said  that  the  German  Reformation 
began  with  the  lower  classes,  as  in  Switzerland  and 
France ;  and  Luther  could  scarcely  find  anywhere  that 
Christian  people  which  should  have  played  so  great  a 
part  in  his  new  constitution.  Ignorant  men,  conceited 
townspeople,  who  would  not  even  maintain  their  minis- 
ters— these  were  the  members  of  the  Church.  Now 
what  could  be  done  with  such  elements  ? 

But  if  the  people  were  indifferent,  the  princes  were 
not  so.  They  stood  in  the  foremost  rank  of  the  great 
battle  of  the  Reformation,  and  sat  on  the  first  bench  in 
the  council.  The  democratic  organization  was  there- 
fore compelled  to  give  way  to  an  organization  conform- 
able to  tlie  civil  government.  The  Church  is  composed 
of  Christians,  and  they  are  taken  wherever  they  are 
found — high  or  low.  It  was  particiUarly  in  high 
stations  that  Luther  found  them.  He  admitted  the 
princes  (as  Zwingle  did  the  Council  of  Two  Hundred) 
as  representatives  of  the  people,  and  henceforward  the 
influence  of   the  state  became   one  of  the  principal 


LUTHER'S  CONTRADICTIONS  ON  STATE-INTERFERENCE. 


417 


elements  iu  the  constitution  of  the  evangelical  Church 
in  Germany. 

Thus  Luther,  setting  out  in  principle  from  the  de- 
mocratic, arrived  in  fact  at  the  Erastiau  extreme. 
Never,  perhaps,  was  there  so  inunense  a  space  be- 
tween tiic  premises  laid  down  by  any  man  and  the 
conduct  he  adopted.  If  L\ither  crossed  that  wide 
interval  without  hesitation,  it  was  not  from  mere 
inconsistency  on  his  part;  ho  yielded  to  the  neces- 
sities of  the  times.  The  rules  of  Church  government 
are  not,  like  the  doctrines  of  the  Gospel,  of  an  abso- 
lute nature ;  their  application  depends  in  a  measure 
on  the  state  of  the  Church.  Nevertheless  there  was 
some  inconsistency  iu  Luther:  he  often  expressed 
himself  in  a  contradictory  manner  on  what  princes 
ought  and  ought  not  to  do  in  the  Church.  This  is 
a  point  upon  which  the  reformer  and  liis  age  had  no 
very  settled  opinions:  there  were  other  questions  to 
be  cleared  up. 

In  the  mind  of  the  reformer  the  tutelage  of  the 
princes  was  only  to  be  provisional.  The  faithful  be- 
ing still  in  their  minority,  they  had  need  of  a  guar- 
dian;  but  the  era  of  the  Church's  majority  might 
an-ive,  and  then  would  come  its  emancipation. 

As  we  said  in  another  place,  we  will  not  decide  on 
this  great  controversy  of  Church  and  State.  But  there 
arc  certain  ideas  which  can  never  be  forgotten.  God 
is  the  principle  from  which  every  being  emanates,  and 
who  ought  to  govern  the  whole  world — societies  as 
well  as  individuals — the  State  not  less  than  the  Church. 
God  has  to  do  with  governments,  and  governments 
with  God.  The  great  truths  of  which  the  Church  is 
the  depository  are  given  from  above  to  exert  their 
intluouce  on  the  whole  nation, — on  him  who  is  seated 
on  the  tlu'one,  as  well  as  on  the  peasant  in  his  cottage; 
and  it  is  not  only  as  an  individual  that  the  prince  must 
be  partaker  of  this  heavenly  light,  it  is  also  that  he 
may  receive  a  Divine  wisdom  as  governor  of  his  people. 
God  must  be  in  the  .State.  To  place  nations,  govern- 
ments, social  and  political  life,  on  one  side, — and  God, 
His  Word,  and  His  Church,  on  the  other,  as  if  there 
were  a  great  gulf  between  them,  and  that  these  two 
orders  of  things  should  never  meet, — would  be  at  once 
high  treason  against  man  and  against  God. 

But  if  there  ought  to  be  a  close  union  between  these 
two  spheres,  (the  Church  and  State,)  we  ought  to  seek 
the  means  best  calculated  to  obtain  it.  Now,  if  the 
direction  of  the  Church  is  entrusted  to  the  civil  go- 
vernment, as  was  the  case  in  Saxony,  there  is  great 
reason  to  fear  lest  the  reality  of  this  union  should  be 
compromised,  and  the  infiltration  of  heavenly  strength 
into  the  body  of  the  nation  be  obstructed.  The  Church, 
administered  by  a  civil  department,  will  often  be  sacra- 
ficed  to  political  ends,  and,  gi-adually  becoming  secu- 
larized, will  lose  its  pristine  vigour.  This,  at  least,  has 
taken  place  in  Germany,  where  in  some  places  religion 
has  sunk  to  the  rank  of  a  temporal  administration. 
In  order  that  any  created  being  may  exercise  all  the 
influence  of  which  it  is  capable,  it  ought  to  have  a 
free  development.  Let  a  tree  grow  unconfined  iu  the 
open  fields,  you  will  better  enjoy  its  cool  shade,  and 
gather  more  abundant  fruits,  than  if  you  planted  it  in 
a  vase,  and  shut  it  up  in  your  chamber.  Such  a  tree 
is  the  Church  of  Christ. 


The  recourse  to  the  civil  power,  which  was,  perhaps, 
at  that  time  necessary  in  Germany,  had  still  another 
consequence  ;  when  Protestantism  became  an  affair  of 
governments,  it  ceased  to  be  universal.  The  new  spu-it 
was  capable  of  creating  a  new  earth.  But  instead  of 
opening  new  roads,  and  of  purposing  the  regenoratioa 
of  all  Christendom,  and  the  conversion  of  the  whole 
world,  Protestantism  shrank  back,  and  Protestants 
sought  to  settle  themselves  as  comfortably  as  possible 
in  a  few  German  duchies.  This  timidity,  which  has 
been  called  prudence,  did  immense  injury  to  the  Re- 
formation. 

The  organizing  power  being  once  discovered  in  the 
councils  of  the  princes,  the  reformers  thought  of  organ- 
ization, and  Luther  applied  to  the  task ;  for  although 
he  was  in  an  especial  manner  an  assailant,  and  Calvin 
an  organizer,  these  two  qualities,  as  necessary  to  the 
reformers  of  the  Church  as  to  the  founders  of  empires, 
were  not  wanting  in  either  of  these  great  servants  of 
God. 

It  was  necessary  to  compose  a  new  ministry,  for 
most  of  the  priests  who  had  quitted  the  papacy  were 
content  to  receive  the  watchword  of  reform,  without 
having  personally  experienced  the  sanctifying  virtue 
of  the  truth.  There  was  even  one  parish  in  which 
the  priest  preached  the  Gospel  in  his  principal  church, 
and  sang  mass  in  its  succursal. 

But  something  more  was  wanting:  a  Christian 
people  had  to  be  created.  "Alas!"  said  Luther,  of 
some  of  the  adherents  of  the  reform,  "they  have 
abandoned  their  Romish  doctrines  and  rites,  and  thev 
scoff  at  ours." 

Luther  did  not  shrink  from  before  this  double  neces- 
sity; and  he  made  provision  for  it.  Convinced  that  a 
general  visitation  of  the  churches  was  necessary,  he 
addressed  the  elector  on  this  subject,  on  the  22d  Octo- 
ber, 1526.  "Your  highness,  in  your  quality  of  guar- 
dian of  youth,  and  of  all  those  who  know  not  how  to 
take  care  of  themselves,"  said  he,  "should  compel  the 
inliabitants,  who  desire  neither  pastors  nor  schools,  to 
receive  these  means  of  grace,  as  they  are  compelled  to 
work  on  the  roads,  on  bridges,  and  such  like  services. 
The  papal  order  being  abolished,  it  is  your  duty  to 
regulate  these  things :  no  other  person  cares  about 
them,  no  other  can,  and  no  other  ought  to  do  so. 
Commission,  therefore,  four  persons  to  visit  all  the 
country;  let  two  of  them  inquire  into  the  tithes  and 
church  property;  and  let  two  take  charge  of  the  doc- 
trine, schools,  churches,  and  pastors."  It  may  be 
asked,  on  reading  these  words,  whether  the  Church 
which  was  formed  in  the  first  century  without  the 
support  of  princes,  could  not  in  the  sixteenth  be  re- 
formed without  them  ? 

Luther  was  not  content  with  soliciting  in  writing 
the  intervention  of  the  prince.  He  was  indignant  at 
seeing  the  courtiers,  who,  in  the  time  of  the  Elector 
Frederick,  had  shewn  themselves  the  inveterate  ene- 
mies of  the  Reformation,  now  rushing,  "sporting, 
laughing,  skipping,"  as  he  said,  on  the  spoils  of  the 
Church.  Accordingly,  at  the  end  of  this  year,  the 
elector  having  come  to  Wittemberg,  the  reformer  re- 
paired immediately  to  the  palace,  made  his  complaint 
to  the  prince-electoral,  whom  he  met  at  the  gate ;  and 
then,  without  caring  about  those  who  would  have 
2e 


418 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFOKMATION. 


stopped  him,  forced  bis  Way  into  the  elector's  bed- 
chamber, and,  addressing  this  prince,  who  was  sur- 
prised at  so  unexpected  a  visit,  begged  him  to  remedy 
the  evils  of  the  Church.  The  visitation  of  the  churches 
was  resolved  upon,  and  Melancthon  was  commissioned 
to  draw  up  the  necessary  instructions. 

In  1526,  Luther  published  his  "  German  Mass,"  by 
which  he  signified  the  order  of  church  service  in 
general.  "  The  real  evangelical  assemblies,"  he  said, 
"do  not  take  place  publicly,  pell-mell,  admitting 
people  of  every  sort ;  but  they  are  formed  of  serious 
Christians,  who  confess  the  Gospel  by  their  words  and 
by  their  lives,  and  in  the  midst  of  whom  we  may 
reprove  and  excommunicate  those  who  do  not  live 
according  to  the  rule  of  Christ  Jesus.  I  cannot  insti- 
tute such  assemblies,  for  I  have  no  one  to  place  in 
them ;  but  if  the  thing  becomes  possible,  I  shall  not  be 
wanting  in  this  duty." 

It  was  with  a  conviction  that  he  must  give  the 
Church,  not  the  best  form  of  worship  imaginable, 
but  the  best  possible,  that  Melancthon,  like  Luther, 
laboured  at  his  instructions. 

The  German  Eeformation  at  that  time  tacked  about, 
as  it  were.  If  Lambert,  in  Hesse,  had  gone  to  the 
extreme  of  a  democratical  system,  Melancthon,  in 
Saxony,  was  approximating  the  contrary  extreme  of 
traditional  principles.  A  conservative  principle  was 
substituted  for  a  reforming  one.  Melancthon  wrote 
to  one  of  the  inspectors :  "  All  the  old  ceremonies  that 
you  can  preserve,  pray  do  so.  Do  not  innovate  much, 
for  every  innovation  is  injurious  to  the  people." 

They  retained,  therefore,  the  Latin  liturgy,  a  few 
German  hymns  being  mingled  with  it ;  the  communion 
in  one  kind  for  those  only  who  scrupled  from  habit  to 
take  it  in  both  ;  a  confession  made  to  the  priest  with- 
out being  in  any  way  obligatory;  many  saints'  days, 
the  sacred  vestments,  and  other  rites,  "  in  which,"  said 
Melancthon,  "there  is  no  harm,  whatever  Zwingle  may 
say."  And  at  the  same  time  they  set  forth  with  reserve 
the  doctrines  of  the  Reformation. 

It  is  but  right  to  confess  the  dominion  of  facts  and 
circumstances  upon  these  ecclesiastical  organizations ; 
but  there  is  a  dominion  which  rises  higher  stiU — that 
of  the  Word  of  God. 

Perhaps  Melancthon  did  all  that  could  be  effected 
at  that  time ;  but  it  was  necessary  for  the  work  to  be 
one  day  resumed  and  re-established  on  its  primitive 
plan,  and  this  was  Calvin's  glory. 

A  cry  of  astonishment  was  heard  both  from  the  camp 
of  Kome  and  from  that  of  the  Reformation.  "  Our 
cause  is  betrayed,"  exclaimed  some  of  the  evangelical 
Christians:  "the  liberty  is  taken  away  that  Jesus 
Christ  had  given  us." 

On  their  part  the  Ultramontanists  triumphed  in 
Melancthon's  moderation :  they  called  it  a  retracta- 
tion, and  took  advantage  of  it  to  insult  the  reform. 
Cochlceus  published  a  "horrible"  engraving,  as  he 
styles  it  himself,  in  which,  from  beneath  the  same 
hood,  was  seen  issuing  a  seveu-headcd  monster  re- 
presenting Luther.  Each  of  these  heads  had  different 
features,  and  all,  uttering  together  the  most  frightful 
and  contradictory  words,  kept  disputing,  tearing,  and 
devouring  each  other. 

The    astonished    elector  resolved  to   communicate 


Melancthon's  paper  to  Luther.  But  never  did  the 
reformer's  respect  for  his  friend  shew  itself  in  a  more 
striking  manner.  He  made  only  one  or  two  unimpor- 
tant additions  to  this  plan,  and  sent  it  back  accom- 
panied with  the  highest  eulogiums.  The  Romanists 
said  that  the  tiger  caught  in  a  net  was  licking  the 
Jiands  that  clipped  his  talons.  But  it  was  not  so. 
Luther  knew  that  the  aim  of  Melancthon's  labours 
was  to  strengthen  the  very  soul  of  the  Reformation  in 
all  the  churches  of  Saxony.  That  was  sufficient  for 
him.  He  thought,  besides,  that  in  everything  there 
must  be  a  transition ;  and,  being  justly  convinced 
tliat  his  friend  was  more  than  himself  a  man  of  transi- 
tion, he  frankly  accepted  his  views. 

The  general  visitation  began.  Luther  in  Saxony, 
Spalatin  in  the  districts  of  Altenburg  and  Zwickau, 
Melancthon  in  Thuringia,  and  Thuring  in  Franconia, 
with  ecclesiastical  deputies  and  several  lay  colleagues, 
commenced  the  work  in  October  and  November,  1528. 

They  purified  the  clergy  by  dismissing  every  priest 
of  scandalous  life ;  assigned  a  portion  of  the  Church 
property  to  the  maintenance  of  public  worship,  and 
placed  the  remainder  beyond  the  reach  of  plunder. 
They  continued  tlie  suppression  of  the  convents,  and 
everywhere  established  unity  of  instruction.  "Luther's 
greater  and  smaller  catechisms,"  which  appeared  in 
1529,  contributed  more,  perhaps,  than  any  other  writ- 
ings to  propagate  throughout  the  new  churches  the 
ancient  faith  of  the  apostles.  The  visitors  commis- 
sioned the  pastors  of  the  great  towns,  imder  the  title 
of  superintendents,  to  watch  over  the  churches  and  the 
schools ;  they  maintained  the  abolition  of  celibacy ; 
and  the  ministers  of  the  "Word,  become  husbands  and 
fathers,  formed  the  germ  of  a  third  estate,  whence  in 
after  years  were  diffused  in  all  ranks  of  society  learn- 
ing, activity,  and  light.  This  is  one  of  the  truest 
causes  of  that  intellectual  and  moral  superiority  which 
indisputably  distinguishes  the  evangelical  nations. 

The  organization  of  the  churches  in  Saxony,  not- 
withstanding its  imperfections,  produced,  for  a  time  at 
least,  the  most  important  results.  It  was  because  the 
Word  of  God  prevailed  ;  and  because,  wherever  this 
Word  exercises  its  power,  secondary  errors  and  abuses 
are  paralyzed.  The  very  discretion  that  was  employed 
really  originated  iu  a  good  principle.  The  reformers, 
unlike  the  enthusiasts,  did  not  utterly  reject  an  institu- 
tion because  it  was  corrupted.  They  did  not  say,  for 
example,  "The  sacraments  are  disfigured,  let  us  do 
without  them!  the  ministry  is  corrupt,  let  us  reject 
it!" — but  they  rejected  the  abuse,  and  restored  the 
use.  This  prudence  is  the  mark  of  a  work  of  God ; 
and  if  Luther  sometimes  permitted  tlie  chaff  to  remain 
along  with  the  wlieat,  Calvin  appeared  later,  and  more 
thoroughly  purged  the  Christian  threshing-floor. 

The  organization  which  was  at  that  time  going  on 
in  Saxony  exerted  a  strong  reaction  on  all  the  German 
empire,  and  the  doctrine  of  the  Gospel  advanced  with 
gigantic  strides.  God's  design  in  turning  aside  from 
the  reformed  states  of  Germany  the  thunderbolt  that 
He  caused  to  fall  upon  the  seven-hilled  city,  was 
clearly  manifest.  Never  were  years  more  usefully 
employed ;  and  it  was  not  only  to  framing  a  constitu- 
tion that  the  Reformation  devoted  itself,  it  was  also  to 
extend  its  doctrine. 


ELIZABETH  OP  BEANDENBURa. 


419 


Tho  clucliios  of  Luncburg  and  Brunswick,  many  of 
the  most  important  imperial  cities,  as  Nuremberg, 
Augsburp;,  Ulm,  Stnisburg,  Gottingeii,  Gosslar,  Nord- 
bauseii,  Lubeck,  Bremen,  and  Hamburg,  removed  the 
tapers  from  the  chapels,  and  substituted  iu  their  place 
the  l)rightcr  torch  of  tlio  Word  of  God. 

In  vain  did  the  friglitcncd  canons  allege  tlie  authority 
of  the  Church.  "The  authority  of  the  Church,"  re- 
plied Kempe  and  Zechenhagen,  tho  reformer  of  Ham- 
burg, "cannot  be  acknowledged  unless  the  Church  her- 
self obeys  lier  pastor  Jesus  Christ."  Pomeranus  visited 
many  places  to  put  a  finishing  hand  to  the  reform. 

In  Frauconia,  the  Margrave  George  of  Branden- 
burg, having  reformed  Anspach  and  Bayreuth,  wrote 
to  his  ancient  protector,  Ferdinand  of  Austria,  who 
had  knit  liis  brows  on  being  informed  of  these  pro- 
ceedings :  "  I  have  acted  thus  by  God's  order ;  for  He 
commands  princes  to  take  care  not  only  of  the  bodies 
of  their  subjects,  but  also  of  their  souls." 

In  East  Friesland,  on  New-year's  day,  1527,  a 
Dominican,  named  Resins,  having  put  on  his  hood, 
ascended  the  pulpit  at  Noordcn,  and  declared  himself 
ready  to  maintain  certain  theses  according  to  the  tenor 
of  the  Gospel.  After  silencing  the  Abbot  of  Noorden 
by  the  soundness  of  his  arguments,  Resius  took  off  his 
cowl,  left  it  on  the  pulpit,  and  was  received  in  the 
nave  by  the  acclamations  of  the  faithful.  Erelong 
the  whole  of  Friesland  laid  aside  the  uniform  of 
popery,  as  Resius  had  done. 

At  Berlin,  Elizabeth,  electress  of  Brandenburg, 
having  read  Luther's  works,  felt  a  desire  to  receive 
the  Lord's  Supper  in  conformity  with  Christ's  institu- 
tion. A  minister  secretly  administered  it  at  the 
festival  of  Easter,  1.528;  but  one  of  her  children  in- 
formed the  elector.  Joachim  was  greatly  exasperated, 
and  ordered  his  wife  to  keep  her  room  for  several 
days ;  it  was  even  rumoured  that  he  intended  shutting 
Lcr  up.  This  princess,  being  deprived  of  all  religious 
support,  and  mistrusting  the  perfidious  manoeuvres  of 
the  Romish  priests,  resolved  to  escape  by  flight ;  and 
claimed  the  assistance  of  her  brother.  Christian  II.  of 
Denmark,  then  residing  at  Torgau.  Taking  advantage 
of  a  dark  night,  she  quitted  the  castle  in  a  peasant's 
dress,  and  got  into  a  rude  country-waggon  that  was 
•waiting  for  her  at  the  gate  of  the  city.  Elizabeth 
urged  on  the  driver,  when,  in  a  bad  road,  the  wain 
broke  down.  The  electress,  hastily  unfastening  a 
handkerchief  she  wore  round  her  head,  Hung  it  to  the 
man,  who  employed  it  in  repairing  the  damage,  and 
erelong  Elizabeth  arrived  at  Torgau.  "If  I  should 
expose  you  to  any  risk,"  said  she  to  her  uncle,  the 
Elector  of  Saxony,  "I  am  ready  to  go  wherever  Pro- 
vidence may  lead  me."  But  John  assigned  her  a 
residence  iu  the  castle  of  Lichtcnberg,  on  the  Elbe, 
near  Wittemberg.  Without  taking  upou  ns  to  approve 
of  Elizabeth's  flight,  let  us  acknowledge  the  good  that 
God's  providence  derived  from  it.  This  amiable  lady, 
■who  lived  at  Lichteuberg  iu  the  study  of  His  Word, 
seldom  appeai-ing  at  court,  frequently  going  to  hear 
Luther's  sermons,  and  exercising  a  salutary  influence 
over  her  children,  who  sometimes  had  permission  to 
see  her,  was  the  first  of  those  pious  princesses  whom 
the  house  of  Brandenburg  has  counted,  and  even  still 
counts,  among  its  members. 


At  the  same  time,  Ilolstein,  Sloswick,  and  Silesia, 
decided  in  favour  of  the  Reformation  ;  and  Hungary, 
as  well  as  Bohemia,  saw  tho  number  of  its  adherents 
increase. 

In  every  place,  instead  of  a  hierarchy  seeking  its 
righteousness  in  the  works  of  man,  its  glory  in  ex- 
ternal pomp,  its  strength  in  a  material  power,  the 
Church  of  the  Apostles  reappeared,  humble  as  in 
primitive  times,  and  like  the  aucient  Christians,  look- 
ing for  its  righteousness,  its  glory,  and  its  power,  solely 
in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb,  and  in  the  Word  of  God. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Edict  of  Ofen—Persocutions— Winkler,  Carpenter,  and  Keyser— AJarm  !n 
Germany— Paclt'3  Forgery — League  of  the  Reformed  Princes — Advico 
of  the  Reformci-s— Lutbei''8  Paeifio  Counsel— Surprise  of  the  Papist 
Prinees— Pacli's  Scheme  not  Improbable— Vigour  of  the  Reformation. 

These  triumphs  of  the  Gospel  could  not  pass  nnper- 
cei\ed ;  there  was  a  powerful  reaction,  and  until 
political  circumstances  should  permit  a  grand  attack 
upon  the  Reformation  on  the  very  soil  where  it  was 
established,  and  of  fighting  against  it  by  means  of 
diets,  and,  if  necessary,  by  armies,  the  adversaries 
began  to  persecute  it  in  detail  iu  the  Romish  countries 
with  tortures  and  the  scaffold. 

On  the  20th  August,  1527,  King  Ferdinand,  by  the 
edict  of  Ofeu,  in  Hungary,  published  a  tariff  of  crimes 
and  penalties,  in  which  he  threatened  death  by  the 
sword,  by  fire,  or  by  water,  against  whoever  should 
say  that  Mary  was  like  other  women ;  or  partake  of 
the  sacrament  in  an  heretical  manner ;  or  consecrate 
the  bread  and  wine,  not  being  a  Romish  priest ;  and 
further,  iu  the  second  case,  the  house  in  which  the 
sacrament  should  have  been  administered  was  to  be 
confiscated  or  razed  to  the  ground. 

Such  was  not  the  legislation  of  Luther.  Link  having 
asked  him  if  it  were  lawful  for  the  magistrate  to  put 
the  false  prophets  to  death,  meaning  the  Sacraraent- 
arians,  whose  doctrines  Luther  had  so  violently  at- 
tacked, the  reformer  replied :  "  I  am  slow  whenever 
life  is  concerned,  even  if  the  offender  is  exceedingly 
guilty.  I  can  by  no  means  admit  that  the  false  teach- 
ers should  be  put  to  death :  it  is  sufiicient  to  remove 
them."  For  ages  the  Romish  Church  has  bathed  iu 
blood.  Luther  was  the  first  to  profess  the  great  prin- 
ciples of  humanity  and  religious  liberty. 

Recourse  was  sometimes  had  to  more  expeditious 
means  than  the  scaffold  itself.  George  AVinkler,  pastor 
of  Halle,  having  been  summoned  before  Archbishop 
Albert,  in  the  spring  of  1527,  for  having  administered 
the  sacrament  in  both  kinds,  had  been  acquitted.  As 
this  minister  was  returning  home  along  an  unfre- 
quented road  in  the  midst  of  the  woods,  he  was 
suddenly  attacked  by  a  number  of  horsemen,  who 
murdered  him,  and  immediately  fled  through  the 
thickets  without  taking  anything  from  his  person. 
"The  world,"  exclaimed  Luther,  "is  a  cavern  of 
assassins  under  the  command  of  the  devil;   an  iim, 


HISTOEY  OP  THE  REFORMATION. 


whose  lamllord  is  a  brigand,  and  which  bears  this 
sign,  Lies  and  Murder:  and  none  are  more  readily 
put  to  death  therein  than  those  who  proclaim  Jesus 
Christ." 

At  Munich,  George  Carpenter  was  led  to  the 
scaffold  for  having  denied  that  the  baptism  of  water 
is  able,  by  its  own  virtue,  to  save  a  man.  "  "When  you 
are  thrown  into  the  fire,"  said  some  of  his  brethren, 
"give  us  a  sign  by  which  we  may  know  that  you  per- 
severe in  the  faith." — "  As  long  as  I  can  open  my 
mouth,  I  will  confess  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus." 
The  executioner  stretched  him  on  a  ladder,  tied  a 
small  bag  of  gunpowder  round  his  neck,  and  then 
flung  him  into  the  flames.  Carpenter  immediately 
cried  out,  "Jesus!  Jesus!"  and  while  the  executioner 
was  turning  him  again  and  again  with  his  hooks,  the 
martyr  several  times  repeated  the  word  "  Jesus,"  and 
expired. 


At  Landbbeig  muu  poi  on^  -wcio  consigned  to  the 
flames,  and  at  Munich  twenty-nine  weie  thi  own  into 
the  water.  At  Scherdiug,  Leonard  Kejser,  a  friend 
and  disciple  of  Luther,  having  been  condemned  by  the 
bishop,  had  his  head  shaved,  and  being  dressed  in  a 
smock-frock,  was  placed  on  horseback.  As  the  execu- 
tioners were  cursing  and  swearing,  because  they  could 
not  disentangle  the  ropes  with  which  his  limbs  were  to 
be  tied,  he  said  to  them  mildly :  "  Dear  friends,  your 
bonds  are  not  necessary ;  my  Lord  Christ  has  already 
bound  me."  When  he  drew  near  the  stake,  Keyser 
looked  at  the  crowd  and  exclaimed :  "  Behold  the 
harvest !  O  Master,  send  forth  thy  labourers  ! "  He 
then  ascended  the  scaffold,  and  said :  "  O  Jesu,  save 
me !  I  am  thine."  Tliese  were  his  last  words.  "  Who 
am  I — a  wordy  preacher,"  cried  Luther,  when  he  re- 
ceived tlie  news  of  his  death,  "in  comparison  with 
this  great  doer ! " 

Thus  the  Reformation  manifested  by  such  striking 
works  the  truth  that  it  had  come  to  re-establish; 
namely,  that  faith  is  not,  as  Rome  maintains,  an 
historical,  vain,  dead  knowledge,  but  a  lively  faith, 
the  work  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  the  channel  by  which 
Christ  fills  the  heart  with  new  desires,  and  with  new 
affections,  the  true  worship  of  the  living  God. 

These  martyrdoms  filled  Germany  with  horror,  and 
gloomy  forebodings  descended  from  the  thrones  among 
the  ranks  of  the  people.    Around  the  domestic  hearth, 


in  the  long  winter  evenings,  the  conversations  wholly 
turned  on  prisons,  tortures,  scaffolds,  and  martyrs ; 
the  slightest  noise  alarmed  the  old  men,  women,  and 
children.  Such  narratives  gathered  strength  as  they 
passed  from  mouth  to  mouth  ;  the  rumour  of  a  univer- 
sal conspiracy  against  the  Gospel  spread  thi-ough  all 
the  empire.  Its  adversaries,  taking  advantage  of  this 
terror,  announced  with  a  mysterious  air,  that  they 
must  look  during  this  year  (1528)  for  some  decisive 
measure  against  the  reform.  One  scoundrel  (Pack) 
resolved  to  profit  by  this  state  of  mind  to  satisfy  his 
avarice. 

No  blows  are  more  terrible  to  a  cause  than  those 
which  it  inflicts  upon  itself.  The  Reformation,  seized 
with  a  dizziness,  was  on  the  verge  of  self-destruction. 
There  is  a  spirit  of  error  that  conspires  against  the 
cause  of  truth,  beguiling  by  subtlety ;  the  Reformation 
was  about  to  experience  its  attacks,  and  to  stagger  un- 
der the  most  formid- 
able assaults — pertur- 
bition  of  thought  and 
estrangement  from 
the  ways  of  wisdom 
and  truth. 

Otho  Pack,  vice- 
chiuceUor  to  Duke 
George  of  Saxony, 
«  as  a  crafty  and  dissi- 
pated man,  who  tooli 
id\  antageof  hisoiHce, 
\nd  had  recourse  to 
ill  sorts  of  practices 
to  procure  money. 
The  duke  having  on 
one  occasion  sent  him 
to  the  diet  of  Nurem- 
bei^  Is  las  itpiLsOutatuc,  the  Bishop  of  Merseburg 
confided  to  him  his  contribution  towards  the  imperial 
government.  The  bishop  having  been  afterwards 
called  upon  for  this  money,  Pack  declared  that  he  had 
paid  it  to  a  citizen  of  Nuremberg,  whose  seal  and 
signature  he  produced.  This  paper  was  a  forgery — 
Pack  himself  was  the  author  of  it.  The  wretch,  how- 
ever, put  an  impudent  face  on  the  matter,  and  having 
escaped  conviction,  preserved  the  confidence  of  his 
master.  Erelong  an  opportunity  presented  itself  of 
exercising  his  criminal  talents  on  a  larger  scale. 

No  one  entertained  greater  suspicions  with  regard  to 
the  papists  than  the  Landgrave  of  Hesse.  Young, 
susceptible,  and  restless,  he  was  always  on  the  alert. 
In  the  month  of  February,  1528,  Pack  happening  to 
be  at  Cassel  to  assist  Pliilip  in  some  difficult  business, 
the  landgrave  imparted  to  him  his  fears.  If  any  one 
could  have  had  any  knowledge  of  the  designs  of  the 
papists,  it  must  have  been  the  vice-chancellor  of  one 
of  the  greatest  enemies  to  the  Reformation.  Tiie 
crafty  Pack  heaved  a  sigh,  bent  down  his  eyes,  and 
was  silent.  Philip  immediately  became  uneasy,  en- 
treated him,  and  promised  to  do  nothing  that  would 
injure  the  duke.  Then  Pack,  as  if  he  liad  allowed  an 
important  secret  to  be  torn  from  him  with  regret,  con- 
fessed that  a  league  against  the  Lutherans  had  been 
concluded  at  Breslau  on  the  Wednesday  foUowiug 
Juhilate  Sunday,  12th  May,  1527;    and  engaged  to 


PACK'S  FORGERY. 


procure  the  original  of  this  act  for  the  laudpfravc,  wlio 
offered  him  for  this  service  a  remuneration  of  ten 
tliousand  florins.  Tiiis  was  the  greatest  transaction 
that  the  wretched  man  had  ever  undertaken;  but  it 
tended  to  nothing  less  than  the  utter  overthrow  of  the 
empire. 

The  landgrave  was  amazed ;  ho  restrained  himself, 
however,  wishing  to  see  the  act  with  his  own  eyes 
before  informing  his  allies.  lie  therefore  repaired  to 
Dresden.  "  I  cannot,"  said  Pack,  "  furnish  you  with 
the  original:  the  duke  always  carries  it  about  his 
person  to  read  it  to  other  princes  whom  he  hopes  to 
pain  over.  Recently,  at  Leipsic,  he  shewed  it  to  Duke 
Henry  of  Brunswick.  But  here  is  a  copy  made  by 
his  highnoss's  order."  The  landgrave  took  the  doeu- 
m.  nt.  ulii.Ii  In,,-.'  all   the  marks  of  the  most  i.rvtVrt 


authenticity.  It  was  crossed  by  a  cord  of  black  silk, 
and  fastened  at  both  ends  by  the  seal  of  the  ducal 
chancery.  Above  was  an  impression  from  the  ring 
Duke  George  always  wore  on  his  finger,  with  the 
three  quarterings  that  Philip  had  so  often  seen ;  at 
the  top,  the  coronet,  and  at  the  bottom  the  two  lions, 
lie  had  no  more  doubts  as  to  its  authenticity.  But 
how  can  we  describo  his  indignation  as  he  read  this 
guilty  document?  King  Ferdinand,  the  Electors  of 
Mentz  and  of  Brandenburg,  Duke  George  of  Saxony, 
the  Dukes  of  Bavaria,  the  Bishops  of  Salzburg,  Wurtz- 
burg,  and  Bamberg,  had  entered  into  a  coalition  to  call 
upon  the  Elector  of  Saxony  to  deliver  up  the  arch- 
heretic  Luther,  with  all  the  apostate  priests,  monks, 
and  nuns,  and  to  re-establish  the  ancient  worship.  If 
ho.   m^,\o   ,l,^f:iiilt.  hU   .-tntP^  w.To   to   lip  invnd^d.  and 


^^.^^ 


Jl 


*<      ::'-J  '■ 


*^l--iPi»eif-*i '"^^-^^^ 


this  prince  and  his  descendants  for  ever  dispossessed. 
The  same  measure  was  next  to  be  applied  to  the  land- 
grave, only  ("it  was  your  father-in-law,  Duke  George," 
said  Puck  to  Philip,  ''who  got  this  clause  inserted ") 
his  states  were  to  be  restored  to  him  in  consideration 
of  his  yout'.i,  if  he  became  fully  reconciled  to  the  holy 
Church.  The  document  stated,  moreover,  the  contin- 
gents of  men  and  money  to  bo  provided  by  the  con- 
federates, and  tlie  share  they  were  to  have  in  the  spoils 
of  the  two  heretical  princes. 

Many  circumstances  tended  to  confirm  the  authen- 
ticity of  this  paper.  Ferdinand,  Joachim  of  Branden- 
burg, and  George  of  Saxony,  had,  in  fact,  met  at 
Breslau  on  the  day  indicated;  and  an  evangelical 
prince,  the  Margrave  George,  had  seen  Joachim  leave 
Ferdinand's  apartments,  holding  in  his  hand  a  large 


parchment,  to  which  several  seals  were  attached.  The 
agitated  landgrave  caused  a  copy  to  be  taken  of  this 
document,  promised  secrecy  for  a  time,  paid  Pack  four 
thousand  florins,  and  engaged  to  make  up  the  sum 
agreed  upon,  if  he  would  procure  him  the  original. 
And  then,  wishing  to  prevent  the  storm,  he  hastened 
to  Weimar  to  inform  the  elector  of  this  unprecedented 
1    conspiracy. 

"  I  have  seen,"  said  he  to  John  and  his  son,  "  nay, 
more — I  have  had  in  my  hands  a  duplicate  of  this 
horrible  treaty.  Signatures,  seals,  nothing  was  want- 
ing. Here  is  a  copy,  and  I  bind  myself  to  place  the 
original  before  your  eyes.  The  most  frightful  danger 
threatens  us — ourselves,  our  faithful  subjects,  and  the 
Word  of  God." 

The  elector  had  no  reason  to  doubt  the  account  the 


422 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


landgi-ave  had  just  given  him ;  he  was  stunned,  con- 
founded, and  overpowered.  The  promptest  measures 
alone  could  avert  such  unprecedented  disasters ;  every- 
thing must  be  risked  to  extricate  them  from  certain 
destruction.  The  impetuous  Philip  breathed  fire  and 
flames  ;  his  plan  of  defence  was  already  prepared.  He 
presented  it,  and  in  the  first  moment  of  consternation 
carried  the  consent  of  his  ally,  as  it  were,  by  assault. 
On  the  9th  March,  1528,  the  two  princes  agreed  to 
employ  all  their  forces  to  defend  themselves,  and  even 
to  take  the  offensive,  and  sacrifice  life,  honour,  rank, 
subjects,  and  states,  that  they  might  preserve  the 
Word  of  God.  The  dukes  of  Prussia,  Mecklenburg, 
Luneburg,  and  Pomerania,  the  kings  of  Denmark  and 
Poland,  and  the  Margrave  of  Brandenburg,  were  to  be 
iuvited  to  enter  into  this  alliance.  Six  hundred  thou- 
sand florins  were  destined  for  the  expenses  of  the  war ; 
and  to  procure  them,  they  would  raise  loans,  pledge 
their  cities,  and  sell  the  offerings  in  the  churches. 
They  had  already  begun  to  raise  a  powerful  army. 
The  landgrave  set  out  in  person  for  Nuremberg  and 
Anspach.  The  alarm  was  general  in  those  countries ; 
the  commotion  was  felt  throughout  all  Germany,  and 
even  beyond  it.  John  Zapolya,  king  of  Hungary,  at 
that  time  a  refugee  at  Cracow,  promised  a  hundred 
thousand  florins  to  raise  an  army,  and  twenty  thousand 
florins  a  month  for  its  maintenance.  Thus  a  spirit  of 
error  was  misleading  the  princes:  if  it  should  carry 
away  the  reformers  also,  the  destruction  of  the  Refor- 
mation would  not  be  far  distant. 

But  God  was  watching  over  them.  Supported  on 
the  rock  of  the  Word,  Melancthon  and  Luther  replied : 
"/« is  icritten.  Thou  shall  not  teinpt  the  Lord  thj  God."  As 
soon  as  these  two  men  whom  the  danger  threatened, 
(for  it  was  they  who  were  to  be  delivered  up  to  the 
papal  jDowcr,)  saw  the  youthful  landgrave  drawing 
the  sword,  and  the  aged  elector  himself  putting  his 
hand  on  the  hilt,  they  uttered  a  cry,  and  this  cry, 
which  was  heard  in  heaven,  saved  the  Reformation. 

Luther,  Pomeranus,  and  Melancthon  immediately 
forwarded  the  following  advice  to  the  elector :  "Above 
all  things,  let  not  the  attack  proceed  from  our  side, 
and  let  no  blood  be  shed  through  our  fault.  Let  us 
wait  for  the  enemy,  and  seek  after  peace.  Send  an 
ambassador  to  the  emperor  to  make  him  acquainted 
with  this  hateful  plot." 

Thus  it  was  that  the  faith  of  the  children  of  God, 
which  is  so  despised  by  politicians,  conducted  them 
aright,  at  the  very  moment  when  the  diplomatists 
were  going  astray.  The  elector  and  his  son  declared 
to  the  landgrave  that  they  would  not  assume  the 
offensive.  Philip  was  in  amazement.  "Are  not  the 
preparations  of  the  papists  worthy  an  attack  ? "  asked 
he.  "  What !  we  will  threaten  war,  and  yet  not  make 
it !  We  will  enflame  the  hatred  of  our  antagonists, 
and  leave  them  time  to  prepare  their  forces !  No,  no  ; 
forward !     It  is  thus  we  shall  secure  the  means  of  an 

honourable    peace." "If  the  landgrave  desires  to 

begin  the  war,"  replied  the  reformer,  "  the  elector  is 
not  obliged  to  observe  the  treaty ;  for  we  must  obey 
God  rather  than  men.  God  and  the  right  are  above 
every  alliance.  Let  us  beware  of  painting  the  devil  on 
our  doors,  and  inviting  him  as  godfather.  But  if  the 
landgrave  is  attacked,  the  elector  ought  to  go  to  his 


assistance ;  for  it  is  God's  will  that  we  preserve  our 
faith."  This  advice  which  the  reformers  gave,  cost 
them  dear.  Never  did  man,  condemned  to  the  torture, 
endure  a  punishment  like  theirs.  The  fears  excited 
by  the  landgrave  were  succeeded  by  the  terrors  in- 
spired by  the  papist  princes.  This  cruel  trial  left 
them  in  great  distress.  "  I  am  worn  away  with 
sorrow,"  cried  Melancthon  ;  "  and  this  anguish  puts 
me  to  the  most  horrible  torture.  The  issue,"  added 
he,  "  will  be  found  on  our  knees  before  God." 

The  elector,  drawn  in  different  directions  by  the 
theologians  and  the  politicians,  at  last  took  a  middle 
course ;  he  resolved  to  assemble  an  army,  "  but  only," 
said  he,  "  to  obtain  peace."  Philip  of  Hesse  at  length 
gave  way,  and  forthwith  sent  copies  of  the  famous 
treaty  to  Duke  George,  to  the  dukes  of  Bavaria,  and 
to  the  emperor's  representatives,  calling  upon  them  to 
renounce  such  cruel  designs.  "I  would  rather  have  a 
limb  cut  off,"  said  he  to  his  father-in-law,  "  than  know 
you  to  be  a  member  of  such  an  alliance." 

The  surprise  of  the  Gemian  courts,  when  they  read 
this  document,  is  beyond  description.  Duke  George 
immediately  replied  to  the  landgrave,  that  he  had 
allowed  himself  to  be  deceived  by  unmeaning  absur- 
dities ;  that  he  who  protended  to  have  seen  the  original 
of  this  act  was  an  infamous  liar,  and  an  incorrigible 
scoundrel ;  and  called  upon  the  landgrave  to  give  up 
his  authority,  or  else  it  might  well  be  thought  that  ho 
was  himself  the  inventor  of  this  impudent  fabrication. 
King  Ferdinand,  the  Elector  of  Brandenburg,  and  all 
the  pretended  conspirators,  made  similar  replies. 

Philip  of  Hesse  saw  that  he  had  been  deceived ;  his 
confusion  was  only  exceeded  by  his  anger.  He  had  in 
this  affair  justified  the  accusations  of  his  adversaries, 
who  called  him  a  hot-headed  young  man,  and  had 
compromised  to  the  highest  degree  the  cause  of  the 
Reformation  and  that  of  his  people.  He  said  after- 
wards :  "  If  that  business  had  not  happened,  it  would 
no  more  happen  now.  Nothing  that  I  have  done  in 
all  my  life  has  caused  me  greater  vexation." 

Pack  fled  in  alarm  to  the  landgrave,  who  caused 
him  to  be  arrested ;  and  envoys  from  the  several 
princes  whom  this  scoundrel  had  compromised  met 
at  Cassel,  and  proceeded  to  examine  him.  He  main- 
tained that  the  original  act  of  the  alliance  had  really 
existed  in  the  Dresden  archives.  In  the  following 
year  the  landgrave  banished  him  from  Hesse,  proving 
by  this  action  that  he  did  not  fear  him.  Pack  was 
afterwards  discovered  in  Belgium  ;  and  to  the  demand 
of  Duke  George,  who  had  never  shewn  any  pity  to- 
wards him,  he  was  seized,  tortured,  and  finally  be- 
headed. 

The  landgrave  was  unwilling  to  have  taken  up  arms 
to  no  purpose.  The  Archbishop-elector  of  Mentz  was 
compelled,  on  the  11th  June,  1528,  to  renounce,  in  the 
camp  of  Herzkirchen,  all  spiritual  jurisdiction  in  Saxony 
and  Hesse.     This  was  no  small  advantage. 

Scarcely  had  the  arms  been  laid  aside  before  Luther 
took  up  his  pen,  and  began  a  war  of  another  kind. 
"  Impious  princes  may  deny  this  alliance  as  long  aa 
they  please,"  wrote  he  to  Link ;  "  I  am  very  certain 
tliat  it  is  not  a  chimera.  Tliese  insatiable  leeches  will 
take  no  repose  until  they  see  the  whole  of  Germany 
flowing  with  blood."    This  idea  of  Luther's  was  the 


ALLIANCE  BETWEEN  CHARLES  AND  CLEMENT  VIL 


I  one  generally  entertained.  "  The  document  presented 
j  to  the  laudgi-avc  may  be,"  it  was  said,  'Tack's  inven- 
tion ;  but  all  this  fabric  of  lies  is  founded  on  some 
'  truth.  If  the  alliance  has  not  been  concluded,  it  has 
I    been  conceived." 

Jlelancholy  were  the  results  of  tliis  affair.     It  in- 
]     spired  division  in  the  bosom  of  the  Keforniatiou,  and 
fanned   the   hatred   between    the   two    parties.      The 
sparks  from  the  piles  of  Kcyser,  Winkler,  Carpenter, 
and  so  many  other  martyrs,  .idded  strenp;th  to  tlic  lire 
that  was    already  threatening   to   set  the   empire   in 
flames.     It  was  under  such  critical  circumstances,  and 
with  such  menacing  dispositions,  that  the  famous  Diet 
1     of  Spires  was  opened  in  March,  lu21>.     The  empire 
i    and  the  papacy  were  in  reality  preparing  to  annihilate 
the  Reformation,  although  in  a  manner  different  from 
I    what  Pack  had  pretended.     It  was  still  to  be  learnt 
[     ■whether  more  vital  strength  would  be  found  in  tlic 
revived  Church  than  in  so  many  sects  that  Home  had 
I     easily  crushed.     Happily  the  faith  had  increased,  and 
I     the   constitution   given   to  the   Church   liad   imparted 
I    gi'cater  power  to  its  adherents.     All  were  resolved  on 
defending  a  doctrine  so  pure,  and  a  Church  govern- 
ment  so  superior  to  that  of  popery.      During  three 
years  of  tranquillity  the  Gospel  tree  had  struck  its 
roots  deep ;  and  if  the  storm  should  biu^t,  it  would 
now  be  able  to  brave  it. 


CHAPTER  V. 

•VUianco  bftwcen  Charles  and  Clement  VII.— Omens— Hostility  of  the 
rapists— Arbitrary  Proposition  of  Charles— Resolutions  of  the  Diet— 
The  Reformation  in  Danger— Decision  of  the  Trinccfl — Violence  of 
Ferdinana— The  Schism  completed. 

TuE  sack  of  Rome,  by  exasperating  the  adherents  of 
the  papacy,  had  given  arms  to  all  the  enemies  of 
Charles  V.  The  French  army,  under  Lautrec,  had 
forced  the  imperial  army,  enervated  by  the  delights  of 
B  new  Capua,  to  hide  itself  within  the  walls  of  Naples. 
Doria,  at  the  head  of  his  Genoese  galleys,  had  destroyed 
the  Spanish  fleet;  and  all  the  imperial  power  seemed 
drawing  to  an  end  in  Italy.  But  Doria  suddenly  de- 
clared for  the  emperor;  pestilence  carried  off  Lautrec 
and  half  of  his  troops;  and  Charles,  suffering  only 
from  alarm,  had  again  gr.isped  the  power  with  a  lirm 
resolution  to  unite  hencefonvard  closely  with  the  pon- 
tiff, whose  humiliation  had  nearly  cost  him  so  dear. 
On  his  side  Clement  VIL,  hearing  the  Italians  re- 
proach him  for  his  illegitimate  birth,  and  even  refuse 
him  the  title  of  pope,  said  atoud,  that  he  would  rather 
be  the  emperor's  groom  than  the  sport  of  his  people. 
On  the  2iJth  June,  1528,  a  peace  between  the  heads 
of  the  empire  and  of  the  Church  was  concluded  at 
Barcelona,  based  on  the  destruction  of  heresy;  and  in 
November  a  diet  was  convoked  to  meet  at  Spires  on 
the  21st  February,  1529.  Charles  was  resolved  to 
endeavour  at  first  to  destroy  the  reform  by  a  federal 
vote ;  but  if  this  means  did  not  sutlice,  to  employ  his 
whole  power  .tgainst  it.  The  road  being  thus  traced 
out,  they  were  about  to  commence  operations. 

Germany  felt  the  seriousness  of  the  position.    Mourn- 


ful omens  filled  every  mind.  About  the  middle  of 
January,  a  great  brightness  in  the  sky  had  suddenly 
dispersed  the  darkness  of  the  night.  "  What  that  for- 
bodes,"  exclaimed  Luther,  "God  only  knows!"  At 
the  beginning  of  April  there  was  a  rumour  of  an 
earthquake  tiiat  had  engulfed  castles,  cities,  and  whole 
districts,  in  Carinthia  and  Istria,  and  split  the  tower  of 
St.  Mark  at  Venice  into  four  parts.  "  If  that  is  true," 
said  the  reformer,  "  these  protligies  are  the  forerunners 
of  the  d.ty  of  Jesus  Christ."  The  astrologers  declared 
that  the  aspect  of  the  quartiles  of  Saturn  and  Jupiter, 
and  the  generiil  position  of  the  stars,  Wiis  ominous. 
The  waters  of  the  Elbe  rolled  thick  and  stormy,  and 
stones  fell  from  the  roofs  of  churches.  "All  these 
things,"  exclaimed  the  terrified  Melancthou,  "excite 
me  in  no  trifling  degree." 

The  letters  of  convocation  issued  by  the  imperial 
government  agreed  but  too  well  with  these  prodigies. 
The  emperor,  writing  from  Toledo  to  the  elector,  ac- 
cused him  of  sedition  and  revolt.  Alarming  whispers 
passed  from  mouth  to  mouth  that  were  sufficient  to 
cause  the  fall  of  the  weak.  Duke  Henry  of  Mecklen- 
burg and  the  elector-palatine  hastily  returned  to  the 
side  of  popery. 

Never  had  the  sacerdotal  party  appeared  in  the  diet 
in  such  numbers,  or  so  powerful  and  decided.  On  the 
5th  March,  Ferdinand,  the  president  of  the  diet;  after 
him  the  dukes  of  Bavaria ;  and  lastly,  the  ecclesiasti- 
cal electors  of  Mentz  and  Treves,  had  entered  the 
gates  of  Spires  surrounded  by  a  numerous  armed 
escort.  On  the  loth  March,  the  Elector  of  Saxony 
arrived,  attended  only  by  Melancthou  and  Agricola. 
But  Philip  of  llcsse,  faithful  to  his  character,  entered 
the  city  on  the  18th  March  to  the, sound  of  trumpets, 
and  with  two  hundred  horsemen. 

The  divergence  of  men's  minds  soon  became  mani- 
fest. A  papist  did  not  meet  an  evangelical  in  the 
street  without  casting  angry  glances  upon  him,  and 
secretly  threatening  him  with  perfidious  machinations. 
The  elector-palatine  passed  the  Saxons  without  appear- 
ing to  know  them ;  and  although  John  of  Saxony  was 
the  most  important  of  the  electors,  none  of  the  chiefs 
of  the  opposite  party  visited  him.  Grouped  around 
their  tables,  the  Roman  Catholic  princes  seemed  ab- 
sorbed in  games  of  hazard. 

But  erelong  they  gave  positive  marks  of  their  hos- 
tile disposition.  The  elector  and  the  landgrave  were 
prohibited  from  having  the  Gospel  preached  in  their 
mansions.  It  was  asserted,  even  at  this  early  period, 
that  John  was  about  to  be  turned  out  of  Spires,  and 
deprived  of  his  electorate.  "We  are  the  execration 
and  the  sweepings  of  the  world,"  said  Melancthon ; 
"  but  Christ  will  look  down  on  His  poor  people,  and 
v.'ill  preserve  them."  In  truth,  God  was  with  the  wit- 
nesses to  His  Word.  The  people  of  Spires  thii-sted 
for  the  Gospel,  and  the  elector  wrote  to  his  son  on 
Palm  Sunday:  "About  eight  thous.aud  persons  were 
present  to-day  in  my  chapel  at  morning  and  evening 
worship." 

The  Roman  party  now  quickened  their  proceedings : 

their  plan  was  simple,  but  energetic.    It  was  necessary 

to  put  down  the  religious  liberty  that  had  existed  for 

more  than  three  years,  and  for  this  purpose  they  must 

1  abrogate  the  decree  of  1526,  and  revive  that  of  1521. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


On  the  15tli  March  the  imperial  commissaries  an- 
nounced to  the  diet  that  the  last  resolution  of  Spires, 
■which  left  all  the  states  free  to  act  in  conformity  with 
the  inspirations  of  their  consciences,  having  given  rise 
to  great  disorders,  the  emperor  had  annulled  it  by 
virtue  of  his  supreme  power.  This  arbitrary  act, 
which  had  no  precedent  in  the  empire,  as  well  as  the 
despotic  tone  in  which  it  was  notified,  filled  the 
evangelical  Christians  with  indignation  and  alarm. 
"  Christ,"  exclaimed  Sturm,  "  has  again  fallen  into  the 
hands  of  Caiaphas  and  Pilate." 

A  commission  was  charged  to  examine  the  imijerial 
proposition.  The  Archbishop  of  Salzburg,  Faber,  and 
Eck, — that  is  to  say,  the  most  violent  enemies  of  the 
Reformation, — were  among  its  members.  "  The  Turks 
are  better  than  the  Lutherans,"  said  Faber,  "  for  the 
Turks  observe  fast-days,  and  the  Lutherans  violate 
them.  If  we  must  choose  between  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures of  God  and  the  old  errors  of  the  Church,  we 
should  reject  the  former."  "  Every  day  in  full  assembly 
Faber  ciists  some  new  stone  at  us  Gospellers,"  says 
Melancthon.  "  Oh,  what  an  Iliad  I  should  have  to 
mmpnso,"  added  he,  "  if  I  were  to  report   all   these 


The  pnrsts  rMcd  l.u-  tin-  cx^ruliOJl  of  the  edict  of 
Worms,  1521,  and  the  evangelical  members  of  the 
commission,  among  whom  were  the  Electors  of  Saxony 
and  Sturm,  demanded,  on  the  contrary,  the  mainte- 
nance of  the  edict  of  Spires,  152C.  The  latter  thus 
remained  within  the  bounds  of  legality,  whilst  their 
adversaries  were  driven  to  coups  d'etat.  In  fact,  a  new 
order  of  things  having  been  legally  established  in  the 
empire,  no  one  could  infringe  it ;  and  if  the  diet  pre- 
sumed to  destroy  by  force  what  had  been  constitu- 
tionally established  three  years  before,  the  evangelical 
states  had  the  right  of  opposing  it.  The  majority  of 
the  commission  felt  that  the  re-establishment  of  the 
ancient  order  of  things  would  be  a  revolution  no  less 
complete  than  the  Reformation  itself.  How  could 
they  subject  anew  to  Rome,  and  to  her  clergy,  those 
nations  in  whose  bosom  the  Word  of  God  had  been  so 
richly  spread  abroad '?  For  this  reason,  equally  reject- 
ing the  demands  of  the  priests  and  of  the  evangelicals, 
the  majority  came  to  a  resolution,  on  the  24th  March, 
that  every  religious  innovation  should  continue  to  be 
interdicted  in  the  places  where  the  edict  of  Worms  had 
been  carried  out;  and  that  in  those  where  the  people 


had  deviated  from  it,  and  where  they  could  not  con- 
forfti  to  it  without  danger  of  revolt,  they  should,  at 
least,  effect  no  new  reform,  they  should  touch  upon  no 
controverted  point,  they  should  not  oppose  the  cele- 
bration of  the  mass,  they  should  permit  no  Roman 
Catholic  to  embrace  Lutheranisni,  they  should  not  de- 
cline the  episcopal  jurisdiction,  and  should  tolerate  no 
Anabaptists  or  Sacramentarians.  The  status-quo,  and 
no  proselytism — such  were  the  essentials  of  this  reso- 
lution. 

The  majority  no  longer  voted  as  in  1526  :  the  wind 
had  turned  against  the  Gospel.  Accordingly,  this  pro- 
position, after  having  been  delayed  a  few  days  by  the 
festival  of  Easter,  was  laid  before  the  diet  on  the  6th 
April,  and  passed  on  the  7th. 

If  it  became  a  law,  the  Reformation  could  neither 
be  extended  into  those  places  where  it  was  as  yet 
unknown,  nor  be  established  on  solid  foundations  in 
those  where  it  already  existed.  The  re-establishment 
of  the  Romish  hierarchy,  stipulated  in  the  proposition, 
would  infallibly  bring  back  the  ancient  abuses ;  and 
the  least  deviation  from  so  vexatious  an  ordinance 
would  easily  furnish  the  Romanists  with  a  pretext  for 
completing  the  destruction  of  a  work  already  so  vio- 
lently shaken. 

The  Elector,  the  Landgrave,  the  Margrave  of  Bran- 
1  nburg,  the  Prince  of  Anhalt,  and  the  Chancellor  of 

I  uneburg,  on  one  side,  and  the  deputies  for  the  cities 
II    the   other,   consulted   together.      An  entirely  new 

I I  der  of  things  was  to  proceed  from  this  council.  If 
ey  had   been  animated  by  selfishness,  they  would, 

perhaps,  have  accepted  this  decree.  In  fact,  they 
A\  ere  left  free,  in  appearance  at  least,  to  profess  their 
filth :  ought  they  to  demand  more  ?  could  they  do  so  ? 
AVere  they  bound  to  constitute  themselves  the  cham- 
pions of  liberty  of  conscience  in  all  the  world  ?  Never, 
erhaps,  had  there  been  a  more  critical  situation  ;  but 
these  noble-minded  men  came  victorious  out  of  the 
tiial.  What!  should  they  legalize  by  anticipation  the 
scaffold  and  the  torture?  Should  they  oppose  the 
Holy  Ghost  in  its  work  of  converting  souls  to  Christ  ? 
Should  they  forget  their  Master's  command:  Go  ye 
into  all  the  world,  and  preach  the  Gospel  to  every  creature  ? 
If  one  of  the  states  of  the  empire  desired  some  day  to 
follow  their  example,  and  be  reformed,  should  they 
take  away  its  power  of  doing  so '?  Having  themselves 
entered  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  should  they  shut  the 
door  after  them?  No!  rather  endure  everything, 
sacrifice  everything,  even  their  states,  their  crowns, 
and  their  lives. 

"Let  us  reject  this  decree,"  said  the  princes.  "In 
matters  of  conscience  the  majority  has  no  power." 
"It  is  to  the  decree  of  1526,"  added  the  cities,  "that 
we  are  indebted  for  the  peace  that  the  empire  enjoys  : 
its  abolition  would  fill  Germany  with  troubles  and 
divisions.  The  diet  is  incompetent  to  do  more  than 
preserve  religious  liberty  until  a  council  meets."  Such, 
in  fact,  is  the  grand  attribute  of  the  State ;  and  if  in 
our  days  the  Protestant  powers  should  desire  to  influ- 
ence the  Romish  governments,  they  should  strive  solely 
at  obtaining  for  the  subjects  of  the  latter  that  reli- 
gious liberty  which  the  pope  confiscates  to  his  own 
advantage  wherever  he  reigns  alone,  and  by  which 
he  profits  greatly  in  every  evangelical  state.     Some  of 


VIOLENCE  OF  FERDINAND. 


the  deputies  proposed  refusing  all  assistance  against 
the  Turlis,  hoping  thus  to  force  tiie  emperor  to  inter- 
fere in  this  religious  question.  IJut  Slurm  called  upon 
them  not  to  mix  up  political  matters  witli  the  salva- 
tion of  souls.  They  resolved,  therefore,  to  reject  the 
proposition;  but  without  holding  out  any  threats.  It 
was  tiiis  noble  resolution  that  gained  for  modern  times 
liberty  of  thought,  and  independence  of  faith. 

Ferdinand  and  the  priests,  who  were  no  less  resolute, 
dotermiued,  however,  on  vanquishing  wliat  they  called 
a  during  obstinacy;  and  they  commenced  with  the 
weaker  states.  They  began  to  frigliteu  and  divide 
the  cities,  which  had  hitherto  pursued  a  common 
course.  On  the  12th  April  tliey  were  summoned 
before  the  diet :  in  vaiu  did  they  allege  the  absence 
of  some  of  their  number,  and  ask  for  delay.  It  was 
refused,  and  the  call  was  hurried  on.  Twenty-one 
free  cities  accepted  the  proposition  of  the  diet,  and 
fom-teen  rejected  it.  It  was  a  bold  act  on  the  part  of 
the  latter,  and  was  accomplished  in  the  midst  of  the 
most  painful  sufferings.  "  This  is  the  first  trial,"  said 
Pfarrer,  second  deputy  of  Strasburg;  "now  will  come 
the  second :  wo  must  cither  deny  the  Word  of  God  or 
— be  burnt." 

A  violent  proceeding  of  Ferdinand's  immediately 
commenced  the  series  of  humiliations  that  were  re- 
served for  the  evangelical  cities.  A  deputy  of  Stras- 
burg should,  in  conformity  with  the  decree  of  AVorms, 
have  been  a  member  of  the  imperial  government  from 
the  commencement  of  April.  He  was  declared  ex- 
cluded from  his  rights  until  the  re-establishuicnt  of 
the  mass  in  Strasburg.  All  the  cities  united  in  pro- 
testing against  this  arbitrary  act. 

At  the  same  time,  the  elector-palatine  and  King 
Ferdinand  himself  begged  the  princes  to  accept  the 
decree,  assuring  them  that  the  emperor  would  be  ex- 
ceedingly pleased  with  them.  "  We  will  obey  the  em- 
peror," replied  they  calmly,  "  in  everything  that  may 
contribute  to  maintain  peace  and  the  honour  of  God." 

It  was  time  to  put  an  end  to  this  struggle.  On  the 
18tli  April  it  was  decreed  that  the  evangelical  states 
should  not  be  heard  again ;  and  Ferdinand  prepared  to 
inflict  the  decisive  blow  on  the  morrow. 

When  the  day  came,  the  king  appeared  in  the  diet, 
surrounded  by  the  other  commissaries  of  the  empire, 
and  by  several  bishops.  He  thanked  the  Roman 
Catholics  for  their  fidelity,  and  declared  that  the  re- 
solution having  been  definitively  agreed  to,  it  was 
about  to  be  drawn  up  in  the  form  of  an  imperial 
decree.  He  then  announced  to  the  elector  and  his 
friends,  that  their  only  remaining  course  was  to  sub- 
mit to  the  majority. 

The  evangelical  princes,  who  had  not  expected  so 
positive  a  declaration,  were  excited  at  this  summons, 
and  passed,  according  to  custom,  into  an  adjoining 
chamber  to  deliberate.  But  Ferdinand  was  not  in  a 
humour  to  wait  for  their  answer.  He  rose,  and  the 
imperial  commissaries  with  him.  Vain  were  all  en- 
deavours to  stop  him.  "  I  have  received  an  order 
from  his  imperial  majesty,"  replied  he  ;  "  I  have  exe- 
cuted it.     AH  is  over." 

Thus  did  Charles's  brother  notify  an  order  to  the 
Christian  princes,  and  then  retire  without  caring  even 
if  there  was  any  reply  to  be  made !     To  no  purpose 


they  sent  a  deputation  entreating  the  king  to  return. 
"It  is  a  settled  affair,"  repeated  Ferdinand;  "submis- 
sion is  all  that  remains."  This  refusal  completed  the 
schism :  it  separated  Rome  from  the  Gospel.  Perhaps 
more  justice  on  the  part  of  the  empire  and  of  the 
papacy  miglit  have  prevented  the  rupture  that  since 
then  has  divided  the  Western  Church. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Tho  Protest— Principles  of  the  Protest— Supremacy  of  the  Gospel- Chris- 
tian Union  —  Ferdinand  rejects  tho  Protest— Attempt  at  Conciliation 
—Exultation  of  tho  Papists— Evangelical  Appeal— Christian  Unity  a 
Reality— Dangers  of  tho  Protestants— Tlio  Protestants  leave  Spires- 
Tho  Princes  tho  True  Kcfonners- Germany  and  Reform. 

If  the  imperial  party  displayed  such  contempt,  it  was 
not  without  a  cause.  They  felt  that  weakness  was  on 
the  side  of  tho  Reformation,  and  strength  with  Charles 
and  the  pope.  But  the  weak  have  also  their  strength  ; 
and  of  this  the  evangelical  princes  were  aware.  As 
Ferdinand  paid  no  attention  to  their  complaints,  they 
ought  to  pay  none  to  his  absence,  to  appeal  from  the 
report  of  the  diet  to  the  AYord  of  God,  and  from  the 
Emperor  Charles  to  Jesus  Christ,  the  King  of  kings 
and  Lord  of  lords. 

They  resolved  upon  this  step.  A  declaration  was 
drawn  up  to  that  effect,  and  this  was  the  famous  Pro- 
test that  henceforward  gave  the  name  of  Protestant  to 
the  renovated  Church.  The  elector  and  his  allies  hav- 
ing returned  to  the  common  hall  of  the  diet,  thus 
addressed  the  assembled  states  :' — 

"  Dear  Lords,  Cousins,  Uncles,  and  Friends ! — 
Having  repaired  to  this  diet  at  the  simimons  of  his 
majesty,  and  for  the  common  good  of  the  empire  and 
of  Christendom,  we  have  heard  and  learnt  that  the 
decisions  of  the  last  diet  concerning  our  holy  Christian 
faith  are  to  be  repealed,  and  that  it  is  proposed  to 
substitute  for  them  certain  restrictive  and  onerous 
resolutions. 

"  King  Ferdinand  and  the  other  imperial  commis- 
saries, by  affixing  theii-  seals  to  the  last  Recess  of  Spires, 
had  promised,  however,  in  the  name  of  the  emperor, 
to  carry  out  sincerely  and  inviolably  all  that  it  con- 
tained, and  to  permit  nothing  that  was  contrary  to  it. 
In  like  manner,  also,  you  and  we,  electors,  princes, 
prelates,  lords,  and  deputies  of  the  empire,  bound  our- 
selves to  maintain  always  and  with  our  whole  might 
every  article  of  that  decree. 

"  We  cannot,  therefore,  consent  to  its  repeal : — 

"  Firstly,  because  we  believe  that  his  imperial  ma- 
jesty (as  well  as  you  and  we)  is  called  to  maintain 
firmly  what  has  been  unanimously  and  solemnly  re- 
solved. 

"Secondly,  because  it  concerns  the  glory  of  God 
and  the  salvation  of  our  souls,  and  that  in  such  matters 
we  ought  to  have  regard,  above  all,  to  the  command- 
ment of  God,  who  is  King  of  kings  and  Lord  of  lords; 

1  Tliere  are  two  copies  of  this  act ;  one  of  them  is  brief,  and  the  other, 
which  is  longer,  was  transmitted  in  writing  to  the  imperial  commissaries. 
It  is  from  the  latter  we  extrsct  the  passages  in  the  text. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


each  of  us  rendering  Him  account  for  himself,  with- 
out caring  the  least  in  the  world  about  majority  or 
minority. 

"We  form  no  judgment  on  that  which  concerns  you, 
most  dear  lords ;  and  we  are  content  to  pray  God  daily 
that  He  will  bring  us  all  to  unity  of  faith,  in  truth, 
charity,  and  holiness,  through  Jesus  Christ,  our  throne 
of  grace,  and  our  only  Mediator. 

"  But  in  what  concerns  ourselves,  adhesion  to  your 
resolution  (and  let  every  honest  man  be  judge !)  would 
be  acting  against  our  conscience,  condemning  a  doc- 
trine that  we  maintain  to  be  Christian,  and  pronounc- 
ing that  it  ought  to  be  abolished  in  our  states,  if  we 
could  do  so  without  trouble. 

"  This  would  be  to  deny  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  to 
reject  His  holy  Word,  and  thus  give  Him  just  reason 
to  deny  us  in  turn  before  His  Father,  as  He  has 
threatened. 

"  What !  we  ratify  this  edict!  We  assert  that  when 
Almighty  God  calls  a  man  to  His  knowledge,  this  man 
cannot,  however,  receive  the  knowledge  of  God !  Oh ! 
of  what  deadly  backslidings  shoidd  we  not  thus  become 
the  accomplices,  not  only  among  our  own  subjects,  but 
also  among  yours ! 

"  For  this  reason  we  reject  the  yoke  that  is  imposed 
on  us.  And  although  it  is  universally  known  that  in 
our  states  the  holy  sacrament  of  the  body  and  blood  of 
our  Lord  is  becomingly  administered,  we  cannot  adhere 
to  what  the  edict  proposes  against  the  Sacrameutarians, 
seeing  that  the  imperial  edict  did  not  speak  of  them, 
that  they  have  not  been  heard,  and  that  we  cannot 
resolve  upon  such  important  points  before  the  next 
council. 

"Moreover," — and  this  is  the  essential  part  of  the 
protest, — "  the  new  edict  declaring  the  ministers  shall 
preach  the  Gospel,  explaining  it  according  to  the  writ- 
ings accepted  by  the  holy  Christian  Church ;  we  think 
that,  for  tjiis  regulation  to  have  any  value,  we  should 
first  agree  on  what  is  meant  by  the  true  and  holy 
Church.  Now,  seeing  that  there  is  great  diversity  of 
opinion  in  this  respect ;  that  there  is  no  sure  doctrine 
but  such  as  is  conformable  to  the  Word  of  God  ;  that 
the  Lord  forbids  the  teaching  of  any  other  doctrine; 
that  each  text  of  the  Holy  Scriptures  ought  to  be 
explained  by  other  and  clearer  texts ;  that  this  holy 
book  is  in  all  things  necessary  for  the  Christian,  easy 
of  understanding,  and  calculated  to  scatter  the  dark- 
ness :  we  are  resolved,  with  the  grace  of  God,  to  main- 
tain the  pure  and  exclusive  preaching  of  His  holy 
Word,  such  as  it  is  contained  in  the  biblical  books  of 
the  Old  and  New  Testament,  without  adding  anything 
thereto  that  may  be  coutrary  to  it.  This  Word  is  the 
only  truth  ;  it  is  the  sure  rule  of  all  doctrine,  and  of 
all  life,  and  can  never  fail  or  deceive  us.  He  who 
builds  on  this  foundation  shall  stand  against  all  the 
powers  of  hell,  whilst  all  the  human  vanities  that  are 
set  up  against  it  shall  fall  before  the  face  of  God. 

"For  these  reasons,  most  dear  lords,  uncles,  cousins, 
and  friends,  we  earnestly  entreat  you  to  weigh  care- 
fully our  grievances  and  our  motives.  If  you  do  not 
yield  to  our  request,  we  Protest  by  these  presents, 
before  God,  our  only  Creator,  Preserver,  Redeemer, 
and  Saviour,  and  who  will  one  day  be  our  Judge,  as 
well  as  before  all  men  and  all  creatures,  that  we,  for 


us  and  for  our  people,  neither  consent  nor  adhere  in 
any  manner  whatsoever  to  the  proposed  decree,  in  any- 
thing that  is  contrary  to  God,  to  His  Holy  Word,  to 
our  right  conscience,  to  the  salvation  of  our  souls,  and 
to  the  last  decree  of  Spu-es. 

"  At  the  same  time  we  are  in  expectation  that  his 
imperial  majesty  will  behave  towards  us  like  a  Chris- 
tian i^rince  who  loves  God  above  all  things ;  and  we 
declare  ourselves  ready  to  pay  unto  him,  as  well  as 
unto  you,  gracious  lords,  all  the  affection  and  obedi- 
ence that  are  our  just  and  legitimate  duty." 

Thus,  in  presence  of  the  diet,  spoke  out  those  cour- 
ageous men  whom  Christendom  will  henceforward 
denominate  The  Pkotestaxts. 

They  had  barely  finished  when  they  announced  their 
intention  of  quitting  Spires  on  the  morrow. 

This  protest  and  declaration  produced  a  deep  im- 
pression. The  diet  was  rudely  interrupted  and  broken 
into  two  hostile  parties, — thus  preluding  war.  The 
majority  became  the  prey  of  the  liveliest  fears.  As 
for  the  Protestants,  relying,  jure  kumano,  upon  the 
edict  of  Spires,  a.ni,  jure  Diviiio,  upon  the  Bible,  they 
were  full  of  courage  and  firmness. 

The  principles  contained  in  this  celebrated  protest 
of  the  19th  April,  1529,  constitute  the  very  essence  of 
Protestantism.  Now  this  protest  opposes  two  abuses 
of  man  in  matters  of  faith :  the  first  is  the  intrusion 
of  the  civil  magistrate,  and  the  second  the  arbitrary 
authority  of  the  Church.  Instead  of  these  abuses. 
Protestantism  sets  the  power  of  conscience  above  the 
magistrate ;  and  the  authority  of  the  Word  of  God 
above  the  visible  Church.  In  the  fii-st  place,  it  rejects 
the  civil  power  in  divine  things,  and  says  with  the 
prophets  and  apostles,  We  must  obey  God  rather  than 
man.  In  presence  of  the  crown  of  Charles  the  Fifth, 
it  uplifts  the  crown  of  Jesus  Christ.  But  it  goes 
farther:  it  lays  down  the  principle,  that  all  human 
teaching  should  be  subordinate  to  the  oracles  of  God. 
Even  the  primitive  Church,  by  recognising  the  writ- 
ings of  the  apostles,  had  performed  an  act  of  submis- 
sion to  this  supreme  authority,  and  not  an  act  of 
authority,  as  Rome  maintains ;  and  the  establishment 
of  a  tribunal  charged  with  the  interpretation  of  the 
Bible,  had  terminated  only  in  slavishly  subjecting  man 
to  man  in  what  should  be  the  most  unfettered — con- 
science and  faith.  In  this  celebrated  act  of  Spires  uo 
doctor  appears,  and  the  Word  of  God  reigns  alone. 
Never  has  man  exalted  himself  like  the  pope ;  never 
have  men  kept  in  the  background  like  the  reformers. 

A  Romish  historian  maintains  that  the  word  Pro- 
testant signifies  enemtj  of  the  emperor  and  of  the  2wpe.  If 
ho  means  that  Protestantism,  in  matters  of  faith,  rejects 
the  intervention  both  of  the  empire  and  of  the  papacy, 
it  is  well.  But  even  this  explanation  does  not  exhaust 
the  signification  of  the  word,  for  Protestantism  threw 
off  man's  authority  solely  to  place  Jesus  Christ  on  the 
throne  of  the  Church,  and  His  Word  in  the  pulpit. 
There  has  never  been  anything  more  positive,  and  at 
the  same  time  more  aggressive,  than  the  position  of 
the  Protestants  at  Spires.  By  maintaining  that  their 
faith  alone  is  capable  of  saving  the  world,  they  de- 
fended with  intrepid  courage  the  rights  of  Christian 
proselytisra.  We  cannot  abandon  this  proselytism 
without  deserting  the  Protestant  principle. 


atte:mpt  at  conciliation. 


427 


The  Protestants  of  Spires  were  not  content  to  exalt 
the  truth :  tliey  defended  charity.  Faber  and  the 
other  papal  partisans  had  endeavoured  to  separate  the 
princes,  who  in  general  walked  witli  Luiiier,  from  the 
cities  that  ranged  themselves  rntiicr  on  the  side  of 
Zwinglc.  Oicolampadius  had  immediately  written  to 
Melancthon,  and  enlightened  him  on  the  doctrines  of 
the  Zurich  reformer.  lie  had  indignantly  rejected 
the  idea  tiiat  Clirist  was  baiiit^licd  into  a  corner  of 
heaven,  and  had  energetically  declared  that,  according 
to  tiio  Swi^s  Christians,  Christ  was  in  every  place,  np- 
Iiuliliiig  all  things  by  tlie  Word  of  His  power.  "With 
the  visible  symbols,"  he  added,  "  we  give  and  we  re- 
ceive the  invisible  grace,  lilic  all  the  faithful." 

Tliese  declarations  were  not  useless.  There  were  at 
Spires  two  men  who,  from  different  motives,  opposed 
the  efforts  of  Faber,  and  seconded  those  of  fficolam- 
padius.  Tlic  landgrave,  ever  revolving  projects  of 
alliance  in  his  mind,  felt  clearly  that  if  the  Christians 
of  Saxony  and  of  Hesse  allowed  the  condemnation  of 
the  churches  of  Switzerland  and  of  Upper  Germany, 
they  would  by  that  very  moans  deprive  themselves  of 
powerful  auxiliaries.  Melancthon,  who,  unlike  the 
landgrave,  was  far  from  desiring  a  diplomatic  alliance, 
lest  it  should  hasten  on  a  war,  defended  the  great  prin- 
ciples of  justice,  and  exclaimed:  "To  what  just  re- 
proaches should  we  not  be  exposed,  were  we  to  recog- 
nise in  our  adversaries  the  right  of  condemning  a 
doctrine  witliout  haviiia:  hoard  fliose  who  defend  it!" 
The  union  of  all  r\  iiii'_'rlli:il  Christians  is  therefore  a 
principle  of  priuiiii\ '-  I'mii -uiiiti.sm. 

As  Ferdinand  h;id  uut  hcai-a  the  protest  of  the  19th 
April,  a  deputation  of  the  evangelical  states  went  the 
next  day  to  present  it  to  him.  The  brother  of  Charles 
the  Fifth  received  it  at  first,  but  immediately  after 
desired  to  return  it.  Then  was  witnessed  a  strange 
scene — the  king  refusing  to  keep  the  protest,  and  the 
deputies  to  take  it  back.  At  last  the  latter,  out  of 
respect,  received  it  from  Ferdinand's  hands  ;  but  they 
laid  it  boldly  iipon  a  table,  and  directly  quitted  the  hall. 

The  king  and  the  imperial  commissaries  remained  in 
presence  of  this  formidable  writing.  It  was  there — 
before  their  eyes — a  significant  mouumeut  of  the  cour- 
age and  faith  of  the  Protestants.  Irritated  against  this 
silent  but  mighty  witness,  which  accused  his  tyranny, 
and  left  him  the  responsibility  of  all  the  evils  that  were 
about  to  burst  upon  the  cm|)iro,  the  brother  of  Charles 
the  Fifth  called  some  of  his  councillors,  and  ordered 
them  instantly  to  carry  the  important  document  back 
to  the  Protestants. 

All  this  was  unavailing ;  the  protest  had  been  regis- 
tered in  the  annals  of  the  world,  and  nothing  could 
erase  it.  Liberty  of  tliought  and  of  conscience  had 
been  conquered  for  ages  to  come.  Thus  all  evan- 
gelical Germany,  foreseeing  these  things,  was  moved 
at  this  counigeous  act,  and  adopted  it  as  the  expression 
of  its  will  and  of  its  faith.  Men  in  every  quarter 
beheld  in  it  not  a  mere  political  event,  but  a  Christian 
action,  and  the  youthful  electoral  prince,  John  Frede- 
rick, in  this  resjiect  the  organ  of  his  age,  cried  to  the 
Protestants  of  Spires :  "  May  the  Almiglity,  who  has 
given  you  grace  to  confess  energetically,  freely,  and 
fearlessly,  preserve  you  in  that  Christian  firmness 
until  the  day  of  eternity  1" 


AVhilc  the  Christians  were  filled  with  joy,  their 
enemies  were  frightened  at  their  own  work.  The 
very  day  on  which  Ferdinand  had  declined  to  receive 
the  protest,  (Tuesday,  20th  April,)  at  one  in  the  after- 
noon, Henry  of  Brunswick,  and  Philip  of  Baden,  pre- 
sented themselves  as  mediators,  announcing,  however, 
that  they  were  acting  solely  of  their  own  authorit}'. 
They  proposed  that  there  should  be  no  more  mention 
of  the  decree  of  Worms,  and  that  the  first  decree  of 
Spires  should  be  maintained,  but  with  a  few  modifica- 
tions ;  that  the  two  parties,  while  remaining  free  until 
the  next  council,  should  oppose  every  new  sect,  and 
tolerate  no  doctrine  contrary  to  the  sacrament  of  the 
Lord's  body. 

On  AVeduesday,  21st  April,  the  evangelical  states 
did  not  appear  adverse  to  these  propositions  ;  and  even 
those  who  had  embraced  the  doctrines  of  Zwingle  de- 
clared boldly  that  such  a  proposal  would  not  compro- 
mise their  existence.  "  Only  let  us  call  to  mind,"  said 
they,  "  that  in  such  difficult  matters  we  must  act,  not 
with  the  sword,  but  with  the  sure  Word  of  God.  For, 
as  St.  Paul  says,  W/ial  is  not  of  faith  is  sin.  If, 
therefore,  we  constrain  Christians  to  do  what  they 
believe  unjust,  instead  of  leading  them  by  God's  Word 
to  acknowledge  what  is  good,  we  force  them  to  sin, 
and  incur  a  terrible  responsibility." 

The  fanatics  of  the  Roman  party  trembled  as  they 
saw  the  victory  nearly  escaping  from  them ;  they  re- 
jected all  compromise,  and  desu-ed  purely  and  simply 
the  re-establishment  of  the  papacy.  Their  zeal  over- 
came everything,  and  the  negotiations  were  broken  off. 

On  Thursday,  22d  April,  the  diet  re-assembled  at 
seven  in  the  morning,  and  the  -Recess  was  read  pre- 
cisely as  it  had  been  previously  drawn  up,  without 
even  mentioning  the  attempt  at  conciliation  which  had 
just  failed. 

Faber  triumphed.  Proud  of  having  the  ear  of  kings, 
he  tossed  himself  furiously  about;  and  to  look  at  him, 
one  would  have  said  (according  to  an  eye-witness) 
that  he  was  a  Cyclops  forging  in  his  cavern  the  mon- 
strous chains  with  which  he  was  about  to  bind  the 
Eeformation  and  the  reformers.  The  papist  princes, 
carried  away  by  the  tumult,  gave  the  spur,  says  Me- 
lancthon, and  flung  themselves  headlong  into  a  path 
filled  with  dangers.  Nothing  was  left  for  the  evan- 
gelical Christians  but  to  fall  on  their  knees  and  cry  to 
the  Lord.  "All  that  remains  for  us  now  to  do,"  re- 
peated Melancthon,  "is  to  call  upon  the  Son  of  God." 

The  last  sitting  of  the  diet  took  place  on  the  24th 
April.  The  princes  renewed  their  protest,  in  which 
fourteen  free  and  imperial  cities  joined ;  and  they 
next  thought  of  giving  their  appeal  a  legal  form. 

On  Sunday,  25th  April,  two  notaries,  Leonard 
Stetner  of  Freysingen,  and  Pangrace  Saltzmanu  of 
Bamberg,  were  seated  before  a  small  table  in  a  narrow 
chamber  on  the  ground-floor  of  a  house  situated  in 
St.  John's  Lane,  near  the  church  of  the  same  name  in 
Spires,  and  around  them  were  the  chancellors  of  the 
princes  and  of  the  evangelical  cities,  with  several 
witnesses. 

This  little  house  belonged  to  an  humble  pastor, 
Peter  Muterstatt,  deacon  of  St.  John's,  who,  taking 
the  place  of  the  elector  or  of  the  landgrave,  had  offered 
a  domicile  for  the  important  act  that  was  preparing. 


HISTOKY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


His  name  shall  in  consequence  be  transmitted  to  pos- 
terity. The  document  having  been  definitively  drawn 
lip,  one  of  the  notaries  began  reading  it.  "  Since  there 
is  a  natural  communion  between  all  men,"  said  the 
Protestants,  "  and  since  even  persons  condemned  to 
death  are  permitted  to  unite  and  appeal  against  their 
condemnation ;  how  much  more  are  we,  who  are 
members  of  the  same  spiritual  body,  the  Church  of 
the  Son  of  God,  children  of  the  same  heavenly  Father, 
and  consequently  brothers  in  the  Spirit,  authorized  to 
unite  when  our  salvation  and  eternal  condemnation  are 
concerned  " 


After  reviewing  all  that  bad  passed  in  the  diet,  and 
after  intercalating  in  their  appeal  the  principal  docu- 
ments that  had  reference  to  it,  the  Protestants  ended 
by  saying :  "  We  therefore  appeal  for  ourselves,  for 
our  subjects,  and  for  all  who  receive,  or  who  shall 
hereafter  receive,  the  Word  of  God,  from  all  past, 
present,  or  future  vexatious  measures,  to  his  Imperial 
Majesty,  and  to  a  free  and  universal  assembly  of  holy 
Christendom."  This  document  filled  twelve  sheets  of 
parchment;  the  signatures  and  seals  were  affixed  to 
tlie  thirteenth. 

Thus,  in  the  obscure  dwelling  of  the  chaplain  of  St. 
John's,  was  made  the  first  confession  of  the  true  Chris- 
tian union.  In  presence  of  the  wholly  mechanical 
imity  of  the  pope,  these  confessors  of  Jesus  raised  the 
banner  of  the  living  unity  of  Christ ;  and,  as  in  the 
days  of  our  Saviour,  if  there  were  many  synagogues  in 
Israel,  there  was  at  least  but  one  temple.  The  Chris- 
tians of  Electoral  Saxony,  of  Lunebnrg,  of  Anhalt,  of 
Hesse  and  the  Margravate,  of  Strasburg,  Nuremberg, 


Ulm,  Constance,  Lindau,  Memmingen,  Kempten,  Nord- 
lingen,  Heilbronn,  Eeutlingen,  Isny,  Saint  Gall,  Weis- 
semburg,  and  Windsheim,  took  each  other's  hands  on 
tlie  25th  April,  near  the  church  of  St.  John,  in  the 
face  of  threatening  persecutions.  Among  them  might 
be  found  those  who,  like  Zwingle,  acknowledged  in 
the  Lord's  Supper  the  entirely  spiritual  presence  of 
Jesus  Christ,  as  well  as  those  who,  with  Luther,  ad- 
mitted His  corporeal  presence.  There  existed  not  at 
that  time  in  the  evangelical  body  any  sects,  hatred,  or 
schism :  Christian  unity  was  a  reality.  That  upper 
chamber  in  which,  during  the  early  days  of  Chris- 
tianity, the  apostles,  with  the  women  and  the  brethren, 
continued  ii'ith  one  accord  in  prayer  and  supplication,  and 
that  lower  chamber  where,  in  the  first  days  of  the 
Eeformation,  the  renewed  disciples  of  Jesus  Christ 
presented  themselves  to  the  pope  and  the  emperor,  to 
the  world  and  to  the  scaffold,  as  forming  but  one  body, 
are  the  two  cradles  of  the  Church  ;  and  it  is  in  this,  its 
hour  of  weakness  and  humiliation,  that  it  shines  forth 
with  the  brightest  glory. 

After  this  appeal  each  one  returned  in  silence  to  his 
dwelling.  Several  tokens  excited  alarm  for  the  safety 
of  the  Protestants.  A  short  time  previously  Melanc- 
thon  hastily  conducted  through  the  streets  of  Spires, 
toward  the  Rhine,  his  friend  Simon  Grynteus,  pressing 
him  to  cross  the  river.  The  latter  was  astonished  at 
such  precipitation.  "An  old  man  of  grave  and  solemn 
air,  but  who  is  unknown  to  me,"  said  Melancthon, 
"  appeared  before  me  and  said.  In  a  minute  officers  of 
justice  will  be  sent  by  Ferdinand  to  arrest  Grynasus." 
As  he  was  intimate  with  Faber,  and  had  been  scandal- 
ized at  one  of  his  sermons,  Grynasus  went  to  him,  and 
begged  him  no  longer  to  make  war  against  the  truth. 
Faber  dissembled  his  anger,  but  immediately  after  re- 
paired to  the  king,  from  whom  he  had  obtained  an 
order  against  the  importunate  professor  of  Heidelberg. 
Melancthon  doubted  not  that  God  had  saved  his  friend 
by  sending  one  of  His  holy  angels  to  forewarn  him. 
Motionless,  on  the  banks  of  the  Rhine,  he  waited  until 
the  waters  of  that  stream  had  rescued  GrynKus  from 
his  persecutors.  "  At  last,"  cried  Melancthon,  as  he 
saw  him  on  the  opposite  side, — "  at  last  he  is  torn  from 
the  cruel  jaws  of  those  who  thirst  for  innocent  blood." 
When  he  returned  to  his  house,  Melancthon  was  in- 
formed that  officers  in  search  of  Grynajus  had  ran- 
sacked it  from  top  to  bottom. 

There  was  nothing  to  detain  the  Protestants  longer 
in  Spires,  and  accordingly,  on  the  morning  after  their 
appeal,  (Monday,  26th  April,)  the  elector,  the  land- 
grave, and  the  dukes  of  Luneburg,  quitted  the  city, 
reached  Worms,  and  then  returned  by  Hesse  into  their 
own  states.  The  appeal  of  Spires  was  published  by 
the  landgrave  on  the  5th,  and  by  the  elector  on  the 
13  th  of  May. 

Melancthon  had  returned  to  Wittemberg  on  the  6  th 
of  May,  persuaded  that  the  two  parties  were  about  to 
draw  the  sword.  His  friends  were  alarmed  at  seeing 
him  agitated,  exhausted,  and  like  one  dead.  "It  is  a 
great  event  that  has  just  taken  place  at  Spires,"  said 
he  ;  "  an  event  pregnant  with  dangers,  not  only  to  the 
empire,  but  to  religion  itself.  All  the  pains  of  hell 
oppress  me." 

It  was  Melancthon's  greatest  affliction,  that  these 


GERMANY  AND  REFORM. 


evils  were  attributed  to  him,  as  indeed  ho  ascribed 
them  himself.  "One  single  thing  has  injured  us," 
said  he,  "  our  not  having  approved,  aa  was  required 
of  us,  the  edict  against  the  Zwinglians."  Luther  did 
not  take  this  gloomy  view  of  affairs ;  but  he  was  far 
from  comproheudiiig  the  force  of  the  protest.  "  Tlie 
diet,"  said  he,  "has  come  to  an  end  almost  without 
results,  except  that  those  who  scourge  Jesus  Christ 
have  not  been  able  to  satisfy  their  fury." 

Posterity  has  not  ratilied  this  decision,  and,  on  the 
contrary,  dating  from  this  epoch  the  definitive  forma- 
tion of  "Protestantism,  it  has  hailed  in  the  Protest  of 
Spires  one  of  the  greatest  movements  recorded  in 
history. 


Let  us  see  to  whom  the  chief  glory  of  this  act  be- 
longs. The  part  taken  by  the  princes,  and  especially 
by  the  Elector  of  Saxony,  in  the  German  Reforma- 
tion, must  strike  every  impartial  observer.  These  are 
the  true  reformers — the  true  mart}TS.  The  Holy 
Ghost,  that  bloweth  where  it  listeth,  had  inspired 
them  with  the  courage  of  tiie  ancient  confessors  of  the 
Church ;  and  the  God  of  election  was  glorified  in 
them.  Somewhat  later,  perhaps,  this  great  part  played 
by  the  princes  may  have  produced  deplorable  conse- 
quences :  there  is  no  grace  of  God  that  man  cannot 
pervert.  But  nothing  should  prevent  us  from  render- 
ing honour  to  whom  honour  is  due,  and  from  adoring 
the  work  of  the  eternal  Spirit  in  these  eminent  men 
who,  under  God,  were,  in  the  sixteenth  century,  the 
liberators  of  Christendom. 

Tiie  Reformation  had  taken  a  bodily  form.  It  was 
Luther  alone  who  had  said  No  at  the  Diet  of  Worms ; 
but  churches  and  ministers,  princes  and  people,  said 
No  at  the  Diet  of  Spires. 

In  no  country  had  superstition,  scholasticism,  hier- 
archy, and  popery,  been  so  powerful  as  among  the 
Germanic  nations.  These  simple  and  candid  people 
had  humbly  bent  their  neck  to  the  yoke  that  came 


from  the  banks  of  the  Tiber.  But  there  was  in  them 
a  depth,  a  life,  a  need  of  interior  liberty,  which,  sanc- 
tified by  the  Word  of  God,  might  render  them  the 
most  energetic  organs  of  Christian  truth.  It  was 
from  them  that  was  destined  to  emanate  the  reaction 
against  that  material,  external,  and  legal  system, 
which  had  taken  the  place  of  Christianity;  it  Wiis 
they  who  were  called  to  shatter  in  pieces  the  skeleton 
which  had  been  substituted  for  the  spirit  and  the  life, 
and  restore  to  the  heart  of  Christendom,  ossified  by 
the  hierarchy,  the  generous  beatings  of  which  it  had 
been  deprived  for  so  many  ages.  The  universal 
Church  will  never  forget  the  debt  it  owes  to  the 
princes  of  Spires  and  to  Luther. 


CHAPTER  VU. 

Union  necessary  to  Reform— Luther's  Doctrine  on  the  Lord's  Supper — A 
Lutheran  Warning— Proposed  Conference  at  Marburg— Melancthon  and 
Zwingle— Zwinglo  leaves  Zurich— Rumours  in  Zurich— The  Reformers 
at  Marburg— Carlstadt'a  Petition  —  Preliminary  Discussions  — Holy 
Ghost— Original  Sin— Baptism— Luther,  Melancthon,  and  Zwingle— 
Opening  of  the  Conference — Tlie  Prayer  of  the  Church — Hoc  est  Corpus 
Jfcum— Syllogism  of  (Ecolampadius— The  Flesh  profiteth  nothing- 
Lambert  Convinced — Luther's  Old  Song — Agitation  iu  the  Conference — 
Arrival  of  New  Deputies— Christ's  Humanity  Finite— Mathematics  and 
Poetry— Testimony  of  the  Fathers— Testimony  of  Augustine — ^Argument 
of  the  Velvet  Cover- End  of  the  Conference— The  Landgrave  Mediates 
— Necessity  of  Union— Luther  rejects  Zwingle's  hand — Sectarian  Spirit 
of  the  Germans — Bucer's  Dilemma— Christian  Cliarity  prevails— Luther's 
Report— Unity  of  Doctrine— Unity  ill  li:\,i-ii)  --ijmlnres— Two  Ex- 
tremes-Three Views— Germ  of  PopL  i  .  I'  I  .  li'ir's  Dejection 
— Turks  before  Vienna— Luther's  Bat  I ;.  ,-  ',  ,:  \  ■■  ny— Luther's 
Firmness — Victorj- — Exasperation  of  tli--  IVii  i  ■=  riii'j^teDing  Pros- 
pects. 

The  Protest  of  Spires  had  still  further  increased  the 
indignation  of  the  papal  adherents ;  and  Charles  the 
Fifth,  according  to  the  oath  be  had  made  at  Barcelona, 
set  about  preparing  "  a  suitable  antidote  for  the  pesti- 
lential disease  with  which  the  Germans  were  attacked, 
and  to  avenge  in  a  striking  manner  the  insult  offered 
to  Jesus  Christ."  The  pope,  on  his  part,  endeavoured 
to  combine  all  the  other  princes  of  Christendom  in  this 
crusade ;  and  the  peace  of  Cambray,  concluded  on  the 
oth  August,  tended  to  the  accomplishment  of  his  cruel 
designs.  It  left  the  emperor's  hands  free  against  the 
heretics.  After  having  entered  their  protest  at  Spires, 
it  was  necessary  for  the  evangelicals  to  think  of  main- 
taining it. 

The  Protestant  states  that  had  already  laid  the  foun- 
dation of  an  evangelical  alliance  at  Spires,  had  agreed 
to  send  deputies  to  Rothach ;  but  the  elector,  staggered 
by  the  representations  of  Luther,  who  was  continually 
repeating  to  him  :  "  In  returning  and  rest  shall  ye  be 
saved ;  in  quietness  and  in  confidence  shall  be  your 
strength ;"  ordered  his  deputies  to  listen  to  the  propo- 
sitions of  his  allies,  but  to  decide  upon  nothing.  They 
adjourned  to  a  new  conference,  which  never  took  place. 
Luther  triumphed ;  for  human  alliances  failed.  "Christ 
the  Lord  will  know  how  to  deliver  us  without  the  land- 
grave, and  even  against  the  landgrave,"  said  he  to  his 
friends. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


Philip  of  Hesse,  who  was  vexed  at  Luther's  obsti- 
nacy, was  convinced  that  it  arose  from  a  dispute  about 
words.  "They  will  hear  no  mention  of  alliances  be- 
cause of  the  Zwinglians,"  said  he;  "well,  then,  let  us 
put  an  end  to  the  contradictions  that  separate  them 
j     from  Luther." 

!  The  union  of  all  the  disciples  of  the  Word  of  God 
seemed  in  fact  a  necessary  condition  to  the  success  of 
the  Reformation.  How  could  the  Protestants  resist 
the  power  of  Rome  and  of  the  empire  if  they  were 
divided?  Tlie  laudgrave,  no  doubt,  wished  to  unite 
their  minds,  that  he  might  afterwards  be  able  to  unite 
their  arms ;  but  the  cause  of  Christ  was  not  to  triumph 
by  the  sword.  If  they  should  succeed  in  uniting  their 
hearts  and  prayers,  the  Reformation  would  then  find 
such  strength  in  the  faith  of  its  children,  that  Philip's 
spearmen  would  no  longer  be  necessary. 

Unfortunately,  tliis  union  of  minds,  that  was  now  to 
be  sought  after  above  all  things,  was  a  very  difficult 
task.  Luther,  in  1519,  had  at  first  appeared  not  only 
to  reform,  but  entirely  renovate  the  doctrine  of  the 
Lord's  Supper,  as  the  Swiss  did  somewhat  later.  "  I 
go  to  the  sacrament  of  the  Lord's  Supper,"  he  had 
said,  "  and  I  there  receive  a  sign  from  God  that 
Christ's  righteousness  and  passion  justify  me ;  such  is 
the  use  of  the  sacrament."  This  discourse,  which  had 
gone  through  several  impressions  in  the  cities  of  Upper 
Germany,  had  prepared  men's  minds  for  the  doctrine 
of  Zwingle.  Accordingly,  Luther,  astonished  at  tlie 
reputation  he  had  gained,  published  this  solemn  decla- 
ration in  1527:  "I  protest  before  God  and  before  the 
whole  world,  that  I  have  never  walked  with  the  Sacra- 
mentarians." 

Luther,  in  fact,  was  never  Zwinglian  as  regards  the 
Communion.  Far  from  that,  in  1519,  he  still  believed 
in  Transubstantiation.  "Why,  then,  should  he  speak 
of  a  sign  1  It  was  for  tliis  reason  :  While,  according 
to  Zwingle,  the  bread  and  wine  are  signs  of  the  body 
and  blood  of  Christ ;  according  to  Luther,  the  very 
body  and  blood  of  Jesus  Christ  are  signs  of  God's 
grace.  These  opinions  are  widely  different  from  one 
another. 

Erelong  this  disagreement  declared  itself.  In 
1527,  Zwingle,  in  his  "  Friendly  Expositiou,"  refuted 
Luther's  opinion  with  mildness  and  respect.  Un- 
luckily the  pamphlet  of  the  Saxon  reformer,  "  against 
the  enthusiasts,"  was  then  issuing  from  the  press,  and 
in  it  Luther  expressed  his  indignation  that  his  adver- 
saries should  dare  to  speak  of  Christian  unity  and 
peace.  "Well,"  exclaimed  he,  "since  they  thus  in- 
sult all  reason,  I  will  give  them  a  Lutheran  wai'niug ! 
Cursed  be  this  concord! — cursed  be  this  charity! — 
down,  down  with  it  to  the  bottomless  pit  of  hell !  If 
I  should  murder  your  father,  your  mother,  your  wife, 
your  child,  and  then,  wishing  to  murder  you,  I  should 
say  to  you,  '  Let  us  be  at  peace,  my  dear  friend !'  what 
answer  would  you  make '? — It  is  thus  tliat  the  enthu- 
siasts, who  murder  Jesus  Christ  my  Lord,  God  the 
Father,  and  Christendom  my  mother,  wish  to  murder 
me  also  ;  and  then  they  say,  Let  us  be  friends  ! " 

Zwingle  wrote  two  replies  "  to  the  excellent  Martin 
Luther,"  in  a  cold  tone  and  with  a  haughty  calmness 
more  difficult  to  pardon  than  the  invectives  of  the 
Saxon  doctor.     "  We  ought  to  esteem  you  a  vessel  of 


honour,  and  we  do  so  with  joy,"  said  he,  "  notwith- 
standing your  faults."  Pamphlet  followed  pamphlet, 
Luther  always  ■m-iting  with  the  same  impetuosity,  and 
Zwingle  with  unalterable  coolness  aud  irony. 

Such  were  the  doctoi-s  whom  the  landgrave  under- 
took to  reconcile.  Already,  during  the  sitting  of  the 
Diet  of  Spires,  Philip  of  Hesse,  who  was  afflicted  at 
hearing  the  papists  continually  repeating :  "  You  boast 
of  your  attachment  to  the  pure  Word  of  God,  and  yet 
you  are,  nevertheless,  disunited,"  had  made  overtures 
to  Zwingle  in  writing.  He  now  went  farther,  and 
invited  the  theologians  of  the  different  parties  to  meet 
at  Marburg.  These  invitations  met  with  various  recep- 
tions. Zwingle,  whose  heart  was  large  aud  fraternal, 
answered  the  landgrave's  call ;  but  it  was  rejected  by 
Luther,  who  discovered  leagues  and  battles  behind  this 
pretended  concord. 

It  seemed,  however,  that  great  difficulties  would 
detain  Zwingle.  The  road  from  Zurich  to  Marburg 
lay  through  the  territories  of  the  emperor  and  of  other 
enemies  to  the  Reformation ;  the  landgrave  himself 
did  not  conceal  the  dangers  of  the  journey;  but  in 
order  to  obviate  these  difficulties,  he  promised  an  escort 
from  Strasburg  to  Hesse,  and  for  the  rest  "  the  pro- 
tection of  God."  These  precautions  were  not  of  a 
nature  to  reassure  the  Zurichers. 

Reasons  of  another  kind  detained  Luther  and  Me- 
lancthon.  "  It  is  not  right,"  said  they,  "  that  the 
laudgrave  has  so  much  to  do  with  the  Zwinglians. 
Their  eiTor  is  of  such  a  nature  that  people  of  acute 
minds  are  easily  tainted  by  it.  Reason  loves  what  it 
understands,  jiarticularly  when  learned  men  clothe 
their  ideas  in  a  scriptural  dress." 

Melancthon  did  not  stop  here,  but  put  forth  the  very 
extraordinary  notion  of  selecting  papists  as  judges  of 
the  discussion.  "  If  there  were  no  impartial  judges," 
said  he,  "  the  Zwinglians  would  have  a  good  chance 
of  boasting  of  victory."  Thus,  according  to  Melanc- 
thon, papists  would  be  impartial  judges  when  the  real 
presence  was  the  subject  of  discussion !  He  went  still 
farther.  "Let  the  elector,"  he  wrote  on  the  14th  May 
to  the  Prince  Electoral,  "  refuse  to  permit  our  journey 
to  Marburg,  so  that  we  may  be  able  to  allege  this 
excuse."  The  elector  would  not  lend  himself  to  so 
disgraceful  a  proceeding ;  aud  the  reformers  of  Wit- 
temberg  found  themselves  compelled  to  accede  to  the 
request  of  Philip  of  Hesse.  But  they  did  so  with 
these  words  :  "If  the  Swiss  do  not  yield  to  us,  all  your 
trouble  will  be  lost ;"  and  they  wrote  to  the  theologians 
among  their  friends  who  were  convoked  by  the  prince  : 
"  Stay  away  if  you  can ;  your  absence  will  be  very 
useful  to  us." 

Zwingle,  on  the  contrary,  who  would  have  gone  to 
the  end  of  the  world,  made  every  exertion  to  obtain 
permission  from  the  magistrates  of  Zm-ich  to  visit 
Marburg.  "I  am  convinced,"  said  he  to  the  secret 
council,  "that  if  we  doctors  meet  face  to  face,  the 
splendour  of  truth  will  illuminate  our  eyes."  But  the 
council,  that  had  only  just  signed  the  first  religious 
peace,  and  who  feared  to  see  war  burst  out  afresh, 
positively  refused  to  allow  the  departure  of  the  re- 
former. 

Upon  this  Zwingle  decided  for  himself.  He  felt  that 
his  presence  was  necessary  for  the  maintenance  of 


THE  REFORMERS  AT  MARBURG. 


431 


peace  in  Zurich ;  but  tlie  welfare  of  all  Christendom 
summoned  him  to  Marburg.  Accordingly,  raising  his 
cyos  towards  heaven,  ho  resolved  to  depart,  exclaiming : 
"  O  God !  tliou  hast  never  abandoned  us ;  thou  wilt 
perform  tliy  will  for  thine  own  glory."  During  the 
night  of  the  31st  August,  Zwingle,  who  was  unwilling 
to  wait  for  the  landgrave's  safe-conduct,  ))repared  for 
liis  journey.  Rodolpli  Collins,  tlie  Greelc  professor, 
was  alone  to  accompany  him.  Tlie  reformer  wrote  to 
the  Smaller  and  to  the  Great  Council :  "If  I  leave 
without  informing  you,  it  is  not.  most  wise  lords,  be- 
cause I  despise  your  authority;  but,  knowing  the  love 
you  bear  towards  me,  I  foresee  that  your  anxiety  Avill 
opjiosc  my  going." 

As  he  was  writing  these  words,  a  fourth  message 
arrived  from  the  landgrave,  more  pressing  still  than 
the  preceding  ones.  The  reformer  sent  the  prince's 
letter  to  the  burgomaster  with  his  own ;  he  then 
quitted  his  house  privily  by  night,  concealing  his 
departure  both  from  friends,  whose  importunity  he 
feared,  and  from  enemies,  whose  snares  he  had  good 
cause  to  dread.  He  did  not  even  tell  his  wife  where 
he  was  going,  lest  it  should  distress  her.  He  and 
Collins  then  mounted  two  horses  tliat  had  been  hired 
for  the  purpose,  and  rode  off  rapidly  in  the  direction 
of  Bale. 

During  the  day  the  rumour  of  Zwingle's  absence 
spread  through  Zurich,  and  his  enemies  were  elated. 
"He  has  ilcd  the  country,"  said  they;  "he  has  run 
away  with  a  pack  of  scoundrels  ! "  "  As  he  was  cross- 
ing the  river  at  Bruck,"  said  others,  "  the  boat  upset 
and  he  Avas  drowned."  "  The  devil,"  alRrnicd  many, 
with  a  malicious  smile,  '•  appeared  to  him  bodily  and 
carried  him  off." — "  There  was  no  end  to  their  stories," 
says  Bullinger.  But  the  council  immediately  resolved 
on  acceding  to  the  wish  of  the  reformer.  On  the  very 
day  of  his  departure  they  appointed  one  of  the  coun- 
cillors, Ulrieh  Funck,  to  accompany  him  to  Marburg, 
who  forthwith  set  out  with  one  domestic  and  an  arque- 
busier.  Strasburg  and  Bale  in  like  manner  sent  states- 
men in  company  with  their  theologians,  under  the  idea 
that  this  conference  would  doubtless  have,  also,  a 
political  object. 

Zwingle  arrived  safely  at  Bale,  and  embarked  on 
the  river  on  the  6th  September  with  CEcolampadius 
and  several  merchants.  In  thirteen  hours  they  reached 
Strasburg,  where  the  two  reformers  lodged  in  tlie  house 
of  Matthew  Zell,  the  cathedral  preacher.  Catherine, 
the  pastor's  wife,  prepared  the  dishes  in  the  kitchen, 
waited  at  table,  according  to  the  ancient  German 
manners,  and  then  sitting  down  near  Zwingle,  listened 
attentively,  and  spoke  with  so  much  piety  and  know- 
ledge, that  the  latter  soon  ranked  her  above  many 
doctors. 

After  discussing  with  the  magistrates  the  means  of 
resisting  the  Romish  league,  and  the  organization  to 
be  given  to  the  Cliristian  confederacy,  Zwingle  quitted 
Strasburg;  and  he  and  his  friends,  conducted  along 
by-roads,  through  forests,  over  mountains  and  valleys, 
by  secret  but  sure  paths,  at  length  reached  Marburg, 
escorted  by  forty  Hessian  cavaliers. 

Luther,  on  his  side,  accompanied  by  Melancthon, 
Cruciger,  and  Jonas,  had  stopped  on  the  Hessian  fron- 
tier, declaring  that  nothing  should  induce  him  to  cross 


it  without  a  safe-conduct  from  the  landgrave.  This 
document  being  obtained,  Lutlicr  arrived  at  Alsfeld, 
where  the  scholars,  kneeling  under  the  reformer's 
windows,  chanted  their  pious  hymns.  lie  entered 
Marburg  on  the  30th  September,  a  day  after  the 
arrival  of  the  Swiss.  Both  parties  went  to  inns ;  but 
tliey  had  scarcely  alighted  before  the  landgrave  in- 
vited them  to  come  and  lodge  in  the  castle,  thinking 
by  this  means  to  bring  the  opposing  parties  closer  lo- 
getiicr.  Philip  entertained  them  in  a  manner  truly 
roj-al.  "Ah!"  said  the  pious  Jonas,  as  he  wandered 
through  the  halls  of  the  palace,  "it  is  not  in  honour  of 
tlie  Muses,  but  in  honour  of  God  and  of  His  Christ, 
that  we  are  so  munificently  treated  in  these  forests  of 
Hesse ! "  After  dinner,  on  the  first  day,  CEcolam- 
padius, Hedio,  and  Bucer,  desirous  of  entering  into  the 
prince's  views,  went  and  saluted  Luther.  The  latter 
conversed  affectionately  witli  CEcolampadius  in  the 
castlc-com-t ;  but  Bucer,  with  whom  he  had  once  been 
very  intimate,  and  who  was  now  on  Zwingle's  side, 
having  approached  him,  Luther  said  to  him,  smiling, 
and  making  a  sign  with  his  hand :  "  As  for  you,  you 
are  a  good-for-nothing  fellow  aii'l  a  knave !" 

The  unhappy  CarlstaiU,  \vlio  h;ul  begun  this  dispute, 
was  at  that  time  in  Frieslaml,  preaching  the  spii'itual 
presence  of  Christ,  and  living  in  such  destitution  that 
he  had  been  forced  to  sell  his  Hebrew  Bible  to  procure 
bread.  The  trial  had  crushed  his  pride;  and  he  wrote 
to  the  landgrave :  "  We  ai-e  but  one  bod}',  one  house, 
one  people,  one  sacerdotal  race ;  we  live  and  die  by 
one  and  the  same  Saviour.  For  this  reason,  I,  poor 
and  in  exile,  humbly  pray  your  highness,  by  the  blood 
of  Jesus  Christ,  to  allow  me  to  be  present  at  the  dis- 
putation." 

But  how  bring  Luther  and  Cai'lstadt  face  to  face? 
and  yet  how  repel  the  unhappy  man  ?  The  landgrave, 
to  extricate  himself  from  this  difllcully,  referred  him 
to  the  Saxon  reformer.     Carlstadt  did  not  appear. 

Philip  of  Hesse  desired  that,  previously  to  the  public 
conference,  the  theologians  should  have  a  private  in- 
terview. It  was,  however,  considered  dangerous,  says 
a  contemporary,  for  Zwingle  and  Luther,  who  were 
both  naturally  violent,  to  contend  with  one  another  at 
the  very  beginning ;  and  as  CEcolampadius  and  Me- 
lancthon were  the  mildest,  they  were  apportioned  to 
the  roughest  champions.  On  Friday,  the  1st  October, 
after  Divine  service,  Luther  and  CEcolampadius  were 
conducted  into  one  chamber,  and  Zwingle  and  Melanc- 
thon into  another.  The  combatants  were  then  left  to 
struggle  two  and  two. 

The  principle  contest  took  place  in  the  room  of 
Zwingle  and  Melancthon.  "  It  is  affirmed,"  said  Me- 
lancthon to  Zwingle,  "  that  some  among  you  speak  of 
C4od  after  the  manner  of  the  Jews,  as  it'  Christ  was 
not  essentially  God." — "  I  think  on  the  Holy  Trinity," 
replied  Zwingle,  "  with  the  Council  of  Nice  and  the 
Athanasian  creed."  "  Councils !  creeds  ! — what  does 
that  mean?  "  asked  Melancthon.  "Have  you  not  con- 
tinually repeated  that  you  recognise  no  other  authority 
than  that  of  Scripture?" — "We  have  never  rejected 
the  councils,"  replied  the  Swiss  reformer,  "  when  they 
are  based  on  the  authority  of  the  Word  of  God.  The 
four  first  councils  are  truly  sacred  as  regards  doctrine, 
and  none  of  the  faithful  have  ever  rejected  them." 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


This  impoi-taut  declaration,  handed  down  to  us  by 
CEcolampadius,  cliaracterizes  the  reformed  theology. ' 

"But  you  teach,"  resumed  Melancth on,  "like Thomas 
Munster,  that  the  Holy  Ghost  acts  quite  alone,  inde- 
pendently of  the  sacraments  and  of  the  Word  of  God." 
— "  The  Holy  Ghost,"  replied  Zwingle,  "  works  in  us 
justification  by  the  AVord  ;  but  by  the  Word  preached 
and  understood,  by  the  soul  and  the  marrow  of  the 
Word,  by  the  mind  and  will  of  God  clothed  in  human 
language." 

"At  least,"  continued  Melancthon,  "you  deny 
oiiginal  sin,  ind  make  sm  consist  only  in  actual  and 
extemil  -noiks  like  the  Pelignns,  the  philosophers, 
and  th    P  11  1  I    " 


This  -svas  the  pimcipal  diflicult).  "Since  man 
naturally  loves  himself,"  replied  Zwingle,  "  instead  of 
loving  God ;  in  that  there  is  a  crime,  a  sin  that  con- 
demns him."  He  had  more  than  once  before  expressed 
the  same  opinion ;  and  yet  Melancthon  exulted  on 
hearing  him :  "  Our  adversaries,"  said  he  afterwards, 
"have  given  way  on  all  these  points !" 

Luther  had  pursued  the  same  method  with  Q^colam- 
padius  as  Melancthon  with  Zwingle.  The  discussion 
had  in  particular  turned  on  baptism.  Luther  com- 
plained that  the  Swiss  would  not  acknowledge  that  by 
this  simple  sacrament  a  man  became  a  member  of  the 
Church.  "  It  is  true,"  said  QScolampadius,  "  that  we 
requii-e  faith — either  an  actual  or  a  future  faith.  Why 
should  we  deny  it?  Who  is  a  Christian,  if  it  be  not 
he  who  believes  in  Christ  ?  However,  I  should  be 
unwilling  to  deny  that  the  water  of  baptism  is  in  a 
certain  sense  a  water  of  regeneration ;  for  by  it  he 
whom  the  Church  knew  not  becomes  its  child." 

These  four  theologians  were  in  the  very  heat  of 
their  discussions,  when  domestics  came  to  inform  them 
that  the  prince's  dinner  was  on  the  table.  They  im- 
mediately arose,  and  Zwingle  and  Melancthon  meeting 
Luther  and  QScolampadius,  who  were  also  quitting 
their  chamber,  the  latter  approached  Zwingle,  and 
whispered  mournfully  iu  his  ear :  "  I  have  fallen  a 
second   time  into  the  hands  of   Dr.  Eck."      In  the 


language  of  the  reformers  nothing  stronger  could  bo 
said. 

It  does  not  appear  that  the  conference  between 
Luther  and  CEcolampadius  was  resumed  after  dinner. 
Luther's  manner  held  out  very  little  hope;  but  Me- 
lancthon and  Zwingle  returned  to  the  discussion,  and 
the  Zurich  doctor,  finding  the  Wittemberg  professor 
escape  him  like  an  eel,  as  he  said,  and  take,  "like 
Proteus,  a  thousand  different  forms,"  seized  a  pen  in 
order  to  fix  his  antagonist.  Zwingle  committed  to 
writing  whatever  Melancthon  dictated,  and  then  wrote 
his  reply,  giving  it  to  the  other  to  read.  In  this 
manner  they  spent  six  hours,  three  in  the  morning, 
and  three  iu  the  afternoon.  They  prepared  for  the 
general  conference. 

Zwingle  requested  that  it  should  be  an  open  one : 
this  Luther  resisted.  It  was  eventually  resolved  that 
the  princes,  nobles,  deputies,  and  theologians,  should 
be  admitted ;  but  a  great  crowd  of  citizens,  and  even 
many  scholars  and  gentlemen,  who  liad  come  from 
Frankfort,  from  the  Ehine  districts,  from  Strasburg, 
from  Bale,  and  other  Swiss  towns,  were  excluded, 
lirentz  speaks  of  fifty  or  sixty  hearers;  Zwingle,  of 
twenty-four  only. 

On  a  gentle  elevation,  watered  by  the  Lahn,  is 
situated  an  old  castle,  overlooking  the  city  of  Mar- 
burg; in  the  distance  may  be  seen  the  beautiful  valley 
of  the  Lahn,  and  beyond,  the  mountain-tops  rising  one 
tibove  another,  until  they  are  lost  in  the  horizon.  It 
was  beneath  the  vaults  and  Gothic  arches  of  an  an- 
tique chamber  in  this  castle,  known  as  the  Knight's 
Hall,  that  the  conference  was  to  take  place. 

On  Saturday  morning,  2d  October,  the  landgrave 
took  his  seat  in  the  hall,  surrounded  by  his  court,  but 
in  so  plain  a  dress  that  no  one  would  have  taken  him 
for  a  prince.  He  wished  to  avoid  all  appearance  of 
acting  the  part  of  a  Constantine  in  the  affau-s  of  the 
Church.  Before  him  was  a  table  which  Luther, 
Zwingle,  Melancthon,  and  Qilcolampadius  approached. 
Luther,  taking  a  piece  of  chalk,  bent  over  the  velvet 
cloth  which  covered  it,  and  steadily  wrote  four  words 
in  large  characters.  AH  eyes  followed  the  movement 
of  his  hand,  and  soon  they  read.  Hoc  est  Corpus 
Meum.  Luther  wished  to  have  this  declaration  con- 
tinually before  him,  that  it  might  strengthen  his  own 
faith,  and  be  a  sign  to  his  adversaries. 

Behind  these  four  theologians  were  seated  their 
friends,  —  Hedio,  Sturm,  Funck,  Frey,  Eberhard, 
Thane,  Jonas,  Cruciger,  and  others  besides.  Jonas 
cast  an  inquiring  glance  upon  the  Swiss.  "  Zwingle," 
said  he,  "  has  a  certain  rusticity  and  arrogance ;  if  he 
is  well  versed  in  letters,  it  is  in  spite  of  Minerva  and 
of  the  Muses.  In  Oiicolampadius  there  is  a  natural 
goodness  and  admirable  meekness.  Hedio  seems  to 
have  as  much  liberality  as  kindness ;  but  Bucer  pos- 
sesses the  cunning  of  a  fox,  that  knows  how  to  give 
himself  an  air  of  sense  and  prudence."  Men  of  mode- 
rate sentiments  often  meet  with  worse  treatment  than 
those  of  the  extreme  parties. 

Other  feelings  animated  those  who  contemplated 
this  assembly  from  a  distance.  The  great  men  who 
had  led  the  people  in  their  footsteps,  on  the  plains  of 
Saxony,  on  the  banks  of  the  Rhine,  and  in  the  lofty 
valleys  of  Switzerland,  were  there  met  face  to  face : 


SYLLOGISM  OF  CECOLAMPADIUS. 


433 


the  cliiefs  of  Christeniloin  wlio  Iiad  sep.inited  from 
Kome,  were  coino  together  to  see  if  thoy  could  remain 
cue.  Accordingly,  from  all  parts  of  (U'niiany  prayers 
and  anxious  looks  were  directed  towards  Marburg. 
"Illustrious  princes  of  the  Word,"  cried  the  evangeli- 
cal Church  through  the  mouth  of  the  poet  Cordus, 
"penetrating  Luther,  mild  (Ecolampadius,  magnani- 
mous Zwingic,  pious  Snepf,  eloquent  Melancthon, 
courageous  Bucer,  candid  Hedio,  excellent  Osiander, 
valiant  Brentz,  amiable  Jonas,  fiery  Craton,  Mainus, 
whose  soul  is  stronger  than  his  body,  great  Dionysius, 
and  you,  Mycouius — all  you  whom  Prince  Philip,  that 
illustrious  hero,  has  summoned,  ministers  and  bishops, 
whom  the  Christian  cities  have  sent  to  terminate  the 
schism,  and  to  shew  us  the  way  of  truth  ;  the  suppliant 
Church  falls  weeping  at  your  feet,  and  begs  you,  by 
the  bowels  of  Jesus  Christ,  to  bring  this  matter  to  a 
happy  issue,  that  the  world  may  acknowledge  in  your 
resolution  the  work  of  the  Holy  Ghost  himself." 

The  landgrave's  chancellor,  John  Feigc,  having  re- 
minded them  in  the  prince's  name  that  the  object  of 
this  colloijuy  was  the  re-establishment  of  union,  "I 
protest,"  said  Luther,  "  that  I  differ  from  my  adver- 
saries with  regard  to  the  doctrine  of  the  Lord's  Supper, 
and  that  I  shall  always  differ  from  them.  Christ  lias 
said,  This  is  my  bod;/.  Let  them  shew  me  that  a  body 
is  not  a  body.  I  reject  reason,  common  sense,  carnal 
arguments,  and  mathematical  proofs.  God  is  above 
mathematics.  AVe  have  the  Word  of  God ;  we  must 
adore  it  and  perform  it ! " 

"It  cannot  be  denied,"  said  QScolampadius,  "that 
there  are  figures  of  speech  in  the  Word  of  God,  as — 
John  is  Elias, — the  rock  tvas  Christ, — /  am  the  vine. 
The  expression,  This  is  my  body,  is  a  figure  of  the 
same  kind."  Luther  granted  that  there  were  figures 
in  the  Bible,  but  denied  that  this  last  expression  was 
figurative. 

All  the  various  parties,  however,  of  which  the 
Christian  Church  is  composed  see  a  figure  in  these 
words.  In  fact,  the  Romanists  declare  that  This  is 
my  body,  signifies  not  only  "  my  body,"  but  also  "  my 
blood,"  "  my  soul,"  and  even  "  my  Divinity,"  and 
"  Christ  wholly." '  These  words,  therefore,  according 
to  Rome,  are  a  synecdoche,  a  figure  by  which  a  part 
is  taken  for  the  whole.  And,  as  regards  the  Luther- 
ans, the  figure  is  still  more  evident.  Whether  it  be 
synecdoche,  metaphor,  or  metonymy,  there  is  still  a 
figure. 

In  order  to  prove  it,  fficolampadius  employed  this 
syllogism : — 

"  What  Christ  rejected  in  the  sixth  chapter  of 
St.  John,  he  could  not  admit  in  the  words  of  the 
Eucharist. 

"  Now  Christ,  who  said  to  the  people  of  Capernaum, 
The  flesh  profiteth  nothing,  rejected  by  those  very  words 
the  oral  manducation  of  His  body. 

"Therefore  lie  did  not  establish  it  at  the  institution 
of  His  Supper." 

Luther. — "  I  deny  the  minor,  (the  second  of  these 
propositions;)  Christ  has  not  rejected  all  oral  mandu- 

1  If  any  one  denies  that  the  body  and  blood  of  our  Saviour  Jcsu3  Christ, 
with  His  soul  and  His  Divinity,  and,  consequently,  the  whole  Jesus  Christ, 
((o(um  fJrislum,)  is  contained  in  the  sacrament  of  the  Eucharist,  let  him  bo 
anathema.    Council  of  Trent,  scss.  13. 


cation,  but  only  a  material  manducation,  like  that  of 
the  flesh  of  oxen  or  of  swine." 

(Ecolampaditis. — "  There  is  danger  in  attributing  too 
much  to  mere  matter." 

Luther. — "Everything  that  God  commands  becomes 
spirit  and  life.  If  we  lift  up  a  straw  by  the  Lord's 
order,  in  that  very  action  we  perform  a  spiritual  work. 
We  must  pay  attention  to  Him  who  speaks,  and  not  to 
what  He  says.  God  speaks :  men,  worms,  listen ! — 
God  commands :  let  the  world  obey!  and  let  us  alto- 
gether fall  down  and  humbly  kiss  the  Word." 

Qlcolampculius. — "  But  since  we  have  the  spiritual 
eating,  what  need  of  the  bodily  one?" 

Luther. — "  I  do  not  ask  what  need  we  have  of  it ; 
but  I  see  it  written.  Eat,  this  is  my  body.  We  must, 
therefore,  believe  and  do.  We  must  do — we  must 
do ! — If  God  should  order  me  to  eat  dung,  I  would 
do  it,  with  the  assurance  that  it  would  be  salutary." 

At  this  point  Zwinglo  interfered  in  the  discussion. 

"  We  must  explain  Scripture  by  Scripture,"  said  he. 
"  We  cannot  admit  two  kinds  of  corporeal  manduca- 
tion, as  if  Jesus  had  spoken  of  eating,  and  the  Caper- 
naites  of  tearing  in  pieces,  for  the  same  word  is  em- 
ployed in  both  cases.  Jesus  says  that  to  eat  His  flesh 
corporeally  profiteth  nothing,  (John  vi.  63;)  whence 
it  would  result  that  He  had  given  us  in  the  Supper  a 
thing  that  would  be  useless  to  us. — Besides,  there  are 
certain  words  that  seem  to  me  rather  childish, — the 
dung,  for  instance.  The  oracles  of  the  demons  were 
obscure,  not  so  are  those  of  Jesus  Christ." 

Luther. — "  When  Christ  says  the  flesh  profiteth 
nothing.  He  speaks  not  of  His  own  flesh,  but  of  ours." 

Zwinrjle. — "The  soul  is  fed  with  the  Spirit,  and  not 
with  the  flesh." 

Luther. — "  It  is  with  the  mouth  that  we  eat  the 
body;  the  soul  does  not  eat  it." 

Zwingle. — "  Christ's  body  is  therefore  a  corporeal 
nourishment,  and  not  a  spiritual." 

Luther. — "  You  are  captious." 

Zwingle. — "Not  so;  but  you  utter  contradictory 
things." 

Luther. — "  If  God  should  present  me  wild  apples,  I 
should  eat  them  spiritually.  In  the  Eucharist,  the 
mouth  receives  the  body  of  Christ,  and  the  sotil  be- 
lieves in  His  words." 

Zwingle  then  quoted  a  great  number  of  passages 
from  the  Holy  Scriptures,  in  which  the  sign  is  de- 
scribed by  the  very  thing  signified ;  and  thence  con- 
cluded that,  considering  our  Lord's  declaration  in  St. 
John,  The  flesh  profiteth  nothing,  we  must  explain  the 
words  of  the  Eucharist  in  a  similar  manner. 

Many  hearers  were  struck  by  these  arguments. 
Among  the  Marburg  professors  sat  the  Frenchman 
Lambert ;  his  tall  and  spare  frame  was  violently 
agitated.  He  had  been  at  first  of  Luther's  opinion,  ^ 
and  was  then  hesitating  between  the  two  reformers. 
As  he  went  to  the  conference,  he  said  :  "  I  desire  to  be 
a  sheet  of  blank  paper,  on  which  the  finger  of  God 
may  write  His  truth."  Erelong  he  exclaimed,  after 
hearing  Zwingle  and  Qicolampadius:  "Y'es!  the  Spirit, 
'tis  that  which  vivifies."  When  this  conversion  was 
known,  the  AVittembergers,  shrugging  their  shoulders, 
called  it  "  Gallic  fickleness."     "  What ! "  replied  Lam- 

1  See  his  Commentary  ou  St.  Luke,  xxii.  19,  20. 

2  P 


434 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


bert,  "  was  St.  Paul  fickle  because  he  was  converted 
from  Pharisaism?  And  have  we  ourselves  been  fickle 
in  abandoning  the  lost  sects  of  Popery?" 

Luther  was,  however,  by  no  means  shaken.  "  This 
is  my  body"  repeated  he,  pointing  with  his  finger  to 
the  words  written  before  him.  "  This  is  my  boch/.  The 
devil  himself  shall  not  drive  mo  from  that.  To  seek 
to  understand  it,  is  to  fall  away  from  the  faith." 

"  But,  doctor,"  said  Zwingle,  "  St.  John  explains 
how  Christ's  body  is  eaten,  and  you  will  be  obliged  at 
last  to  leave  off  singing  always  the  same  song." 

"  You  make  use  of  unmannerly  expressions,"  re- 
plied Luther.  The  "Wittembergers  themselves  called 
Zwinglc's  argument  "his  old  song."  Zwingle  con- 
tinued without  being  disconcerted  :  "  I  ask  you,  doctor, 
whether  Christ,  in  the  sixth  chapter  of  St.  John,  did  not 
wish  to  reply  to  the  question  that  had  been  put  to  Him?" 

Luther. — "Master  Zwingle,  you  wish  to  stop  my 
mouth  by  the  arrogancy  of  your  language.  That 
passage  has  nothing  to  do  here." 

Zwingle  {hastily.) — "  Pardon  me,  doctor,  that  passage 
breaks  your  nock." 

Luther. — "  Do  not  boast  so  much !  You  are  in  Hesse, 
and  not  in  Switzerland.  In  this  country  we  do  not 
break  people's  necks." 

Then,  turning  towards  his  friends,  Luther  complained 
bitterly  of  Zwingle ;  as  if  the  latter  had  really  wished 
to  break  his  neck.  "  He  makes  use  of  camp  terms 
and  blood-stained  words,"  said  he.  Luther  forgot  that 
he  had  employed  a  similar  expression  in  speaking  of 
Carlstadt. 

Zwingle  resumed :  "  In  Switzerland  also  there  is 
strict  justice,  and  we  break  no  man's  neck  without 
trial.  That  expression  signifies  merely  that  your  cause 
is  lost  and  hopeless." 

Great  agitation  prevailed  in  the  Knight's  Hall.  The 
roughness  of  the  Swiss  and  the  obstinacy  of  the  Saxon 
had  come  into  collision.  The  landgrave,  fearing  to 
behold  the  failure  of  his  project  of  conciliation,  nodded 
assent  to  Zwingle's  explanation.  "  Doctor,"  said  he  to 
Luther,  "you  should  not  be  offended  at  such  common 
expressions."  It  was  in  vain :  the  agitated  sea  could 
not  again  be  calmed.  The  prince,  therefore,  arose, 
and  they  all  rcpaii-ed  to  the  banqueting  hall.  After 
dinner  they  resumed  their  tasks. 

"  I  beheve,"  said  Luther,  "  that  Christ's  body  is  in 
heaven ;  but  I  also  believe  that  it  is  in  the  sacrament. 
It  concerns  mo  little  whether  it  be  against  nature,  pro- 
vided that  it  be  not  against  faith.  Christ  is  substan- 
tially in  the  sacrament,  such  as  He  was  born  of  the 
Virgin." 

(Ecolampadius,  {quoting  a  passage  from  St.  Paul.) — 
'■'■We  know  not  Jesus  Christ  after  ihejlesh." 

Luther. — ^^  After  ihejlesh  means,  in  this  passage,  after 
our  carnal  affections." 

Qicolampadius. — "  You  will  not  allow  that  there  is 
a  metaphor  in  these  words,  27ms  ia  my  body,,  and  yet 
you  admit  a  synecdoche." 

Luther. — "  Metaphor  permits  the  existence  of  a  sign 
only;  but  it  is  not  so  with  synecdoche.  If  a  man  says 
he  wishes  to  drink  a  bottle,  we  understand  that  he 
means  the  beer  in  the  bottle.  Christ's  body  is  in  the 
bread,  as  a  sword  in  the  scabbard,  or  as  the  Holy 
Ghost  in  the  dove." 


The  discussion  was  proceeding  in  this  manner  when 
Osiander,  pastor  of  Nuremberg;  Stephen  Agricola,  pas- 
tor of  Augsburg;  and  Brentz,  pastor  of  Halle,  in  Swabia, 
author  of  the  famous  Syngramma,  entered  the  hall. 
These  also  had  been  invited  by  the  landgrave.  But 
Brentz,  to  whom  Luther  had  written  that  he  should 
take  care  not  to  appear,  had  no  doubt,  by  his  indeci- 
sion, retarded  his  own  departure  as  well  as  that  of  his 
friends.  Places  were  assigned  them  near  Luther  and 
Melancthon.  "Listen,  and  speak  if  necessary,"  they 
were  told.  They  took  but  little  advantage  of  this  per- 
mission. "All  of  us,  except  Luther,"  said  Melauc- 
thon,  "  were  silent  personages." 

The  struggle  continued. 

When  Zwingle  saw  that  exegesis  was  not  sufficient 
for  Luther,  he  added  dogmatical  theology  to  it,  and, 
subsidiarily,  natural  philosophy. 

" I  oppose  you,"  said  he,  "with  this  article  of  our 
faith :  Ascendit  in  ca::liwi-—'He  ascended  into  heaven.  If 
Christ  is  in  heaven,  as  regards  His  body,  how  can 
He  be  in  the  bread  ?  The  AVord  of  God  teaches  us 
that  He  was  like  His  brethren  in  all  things,  (Heb.  ii. 
17.)  He  therefore  cannot  be  in  several  places  at 
once." 

Luther. — "Were  I  desirous  of  reasoning  thus,  I 
would  undertake  to  prove  that  Jesus  Christ  had  a 
wife ;  that  He  had  black  eyes,  and  lived  in  our  good 
country  of  Germany.     I  care  little  about  mathematics." 

"  There  is  no  question  of  mathematics  here,"  said 
Zwingle,  "  but  of  St.  Paul,  who  writes  to  the  Philip- 

pians,  nop<piii/  Sov\ov  Aapajv.'"- 

Luther.,  {internipting  him.) — "  Kead  it  to  us  in  Latin 
or  in  German,  not  in  Greek." 

Zwingle  {in  Latin.) — "Pardon  me:  for  twelve  years 
past  I  have  made  use  of  the  Greek  Testament  only." 
Then,  continuing  to  read  the  passage,  he  concluded 
from  it  that  Christ's  humanity  is  of  a  finite  natiu'e  like 


our  own. 


Luther,  {pointing  to  the  words  written  before  him.) — 
"  Most  dear  sirs,  since  my  Lord  Jesus  Christ  says.  Hoc 
est  corpus  meu7n,  I  believe  that  His  body  is  really  there." 

Here  the  scene  grew  animated.  Zwingle  started 
from  his  chair,  sprung  towards  Luther,  and  said,  strik- 
ing the  table  before  him : 

"You  maintain  then,  doctor,  that  Christ's  body  is 
locally  in  the  Eucharist ;  for  you  say  Christ's  body  is 
really  there — there — there"  repeated  Zwingle.  "  There 
is  an  adverb  of  place.  Christ's  body  is  then  of  such 
a  nature  as  to  exist  in  a  place.  If  it  is  in  a  place, 
it  is  in  heaven,  whence  it  follows  that  it  is  not  iu 
the  bread." 

Luther. — "  I  repeat  that  I  have  nothing  to  do  with 
mathematical  proofs.  As  soon  as  the  words  of  conse- 
cration are  pronounced  over  the  bread,  the  body  is 
there,  however  wicked  be  the  priest  who  pronounces 
them." 

Zwingle. — "  You  are  thus  re-establishing  Popery." 

Luther. — "This  is  not  done  through  the  priest's 
merits,  but  because  of  Christ's  ordinance.  I  will  not, 
when  Christ's  body  is  in  question,  here  speak  of  a  par- 
ticular place.     I  absolutely  will  not." 

Zwingle. — "Must  everything,  then,  exist  precisely 
as  you  will  it  ?  " 

1  Having  taken  tlie  form  of  a  sen-ant,  (riiil.  iL  7.) 


TESTIMONY  OF  THE  FATHERS. 


43o 


Tlie  landgi-avo  perceived  that  the  discussion  was 
p-owing  hot ;  and  as  the  repast  was  waiting,  he  broke 
off  the  contest. 

The  conference  was  continued  on  the  next  day, 
(Sunday,  the  3d  October,)  perluips  because  of  an  epi- 
(loniic  (the  Sweating  Sickness)  that  had  just  broken 
out  at  Marburg,  and  whicli  did  not  allow  any  great 
prolongation  of  the  colloquy.  Luther,  returning  to  the 
discussion  of  the  previous  evening,  said : 

"Christ's  body  is  in  the  sacrament;  but  it  is  not 
there  as  in  a  place." 

ZwiiKjle. — "  Then  it  is  not  there  at  all." 

Luther. — "  Sophists  say,  that  a  body  may  very  well 
bo  in  several  places  at  once.  The  universe  is  a  body, 
and  yet  wo  cannot  assert  that  it  is  in  a  particular 
place." 

ZwiiKjIe. — "  Ah  !  you  speak  of  sophists,  doctor  ;  are 
you  really,  after  all,  obliged  to  return  to  the  onions 
and  flesh-pots  of  Egypt?  As  for  what  you  say,  that 
the  universe  is  in  no  particular  place,  I  beg  all  intelli- 
gent men  to  weigh  this  proof."  Then  Zwingle,  who, 
whatever  Luther  may  have  said,  had  more  than  one 
arrow  in  his  quiver,  after  establishing  his  proposition 
by  exegesis  and  philosophy,  resolved  on  confirming  it 
by  the  testimony  of  the  Fathers  of  the  Church. 

"  Listen,"  said  he,  "  to  what  Fulgentius,  bishop  of 
Kuspa,  in  Numidia,  said,  in  the  fifth  century,  to  Trasa- 
nvond,  king  of  the  Vandals:  'The  Son  of  God  took 
the  attributes  of  true  humanity,  and  did  not  lose 
those  of  true  Divinity.  Born  in  time,  according  to  His 
mother.  He  lives  in  eternity  according  to  the  Divinity 
that  He  holds  from  the  Father:  coming  from  man.  He 
is  man,  and  consequently  in  a  place ;  proceeding  from 
the  Father,  He  is  God,  and  consequently  present  in 
every  place.  According  to  His  human  nature.  He  was 
absent  from  heaven  while  He  was  upon  earth,  and 
quitted  the  earth  when  He  ascended  into  heaven ;  but, 
according  to  His  Divine  nature.  He  remained  in  heaven 
when  He  came  down  thence,  and  did  not  abandon  the 
earth  when  He  returned  thither.'" 

But  Luther  still  replied:  "It  is  written,  This  is  my 
hodi/."  Zwingle,  becoming  impatient,  said  :  "  All  that 
is  idle  wrangling.  An  obstinate  disputant  might  also 
maintain  this  expression  of  our  Savioiu-  to  His  mother. 
Behold  thj  son.,  pointing  to  St.  John.  Vain  would  be 
every  explanation,  he  would  continue  crying,  No,  no ! 
He  said  Eccefilitis  tuns — Behold  thy  son,  behold  thy 
son  !  Listen  to  a  new  testimony;  it  is  from  the  great 
Augustine:  'Let  us  not  think,'  says  he,  'that  Christ, 
according  to  His  human  form,  is  present  in  every 
place;  let  us  beware,  in  our  endeavour  to  establish 
His  Divinity,  of  taking  away  His  truth  from  His  body. 
Christ  is  now  everywhere  present,  like  God ;  and  yet, 
in  consequence  of  His  real  body,  He  is  in  a  definite 
part  of  heaven.'" 

"  St.  Augustine,"  replied  Luther,  "  is  not  here  speak- 
ing of  the  Eucharist.  Christ's  body  is  not  in  the 
Eucharist,  as  in  a  place." 

CEcolampadius  saw  that  he  might  take  advantage  of 
this  assertion  of  Luther's.  "  The  body  of  Christ,"  said 
he,  "  is  not  locally  in  the  Eucharist,  therefore  no  real 
body  is  there ;  for  every  one  knows  that  the  essence  of 
a  body  is  its  existence  in  a  place." 

Here  finished  the  morning's  discussion. 


CEcolampadius,  upon  reflection,  felt  convinced  that 
Luther's  assertion  might  be  looked  upon  as  an  approxi- 
mation. "I  remember,"  said  he  after  dinner,  "that 
the  doctor  conceded  this  morning  that  Christ's  body 
was  not  in  the  sacrament  as  in  a  place.  Let  us,  there- 
fore, inquire  amicably  what  is  the  nature  of  Christ's 
bodily  presence." 

"  You  will  not  make  me  take  a  step  farther,"  ex- 
claimed Luther,  who  saw  where  they  wished  to  drag 
him;  "you  have  Fulgentius  and  Augustine  on  your 
side ;  but  all  the  other  Fathers  are  on  ours." 

CEcolampadius,  who  seemed  to  the  Wittembergers 
to  be  vexatiously  precise,  then  said:  "Name  these 
doctors.  We  will  take  upon  ourselves  to  prove  that 
tliiey  are  of  our  opinion." 

"  We  will  not  name  them  to  you,"  said  Luther.  "  It 
was  in  his  youth,"  added  he,  "  that  Augustine  wrote 
what  you  have  quoted ;  and,  besides,  he  is  an  obscure 
author."  Then  retreating  to  the  ground  which  he  had 
resolved  never  to  quit,  he  was  no  longer  content  to 
point  his  finger  at  the  inscription,  Hoc  est  corpus  mciim, 
but  seized  the  velvet  cover  on  which  the  words  were 
written,  tore  it  off  the  table,  held  it  up  in  front  of 
Zwingle  and  CEcolampadius,  and  placing  it  before 
their  eyes,  "See!"  said  he,  "see!  This  is  our  text: 
you  have  not  yet  driven  us  from  it,  as  you  had  boasted, 
and  we  care  for  no  other  proofs." 

"If  this  be  the  case,"  said  CEcolampadius,  "we  had 
better  leave  off  the  discussion.  But  I  will  first  declare, 
that,  if  we  quote  the  Fathers,  it  is  only  to  free  our 
doctrine  from  the  reproach  of  novelty,  and  not  to  sup- 
port our  cause  by  their  authority."  No  better  defini- 
tion can  be  given  of  the  legitimate  use  of  the  doctors 
of  the  Church. 

There  was  no  reason,  in  fact,  for  prolonging  the 
conference.  "As  Luther  was  of  an  intractable  and 
imperious  disposition,"  says  even  his  great  apologist, 
Seckendorf,  "  he  did  not  cease  from  calling  upon  the 
Swiss  to  submit  simply  to  his  opinion." 

The  chancellor,  alarmed  at  such  a  termination  of 
the  colloquy,  exhorted  the  theologians  to  come  to  some 
imderstanding.  "I  know  but  one  means  for  that," 
said  Luther;  "and  this  it  is:  Let  our  adversaries  be- 
lieve as  we  do." — "  We  cannot,"  answered  the  Swiss. 
"Well,  then,"  rejoined  Luther,  "I  abandon  you  to 
God's  judgment,  and  pray  that  He  will  enlighten  you." 
"  AVe  will  do  the  same,"  added  CEcolampadius. 

While  these  words  were  passing,  Zwingle  sat  silent, 
motionless,  and  deeply  moved;  and  the  liveliness  of 
his  affections,  of  which  he  had  given  more  than  one 
proof  during  the  conference,  was  then  manifested  in  a 
very  different  manner.  He  burst  into  tears  in  the  pre- 
sence of  all. 

The  conference  was  ended.  It  had  been  in  reality 
more  tranquil  than  the  documents  seem  to  shew,  or 
perhaps  the  chroniclers  appreciated  such  matters  dif- 
ferently from  ourselves.  "AVith  the  exception  of  a 
few  sallies,  all  had  passed  off  quietly,  in  a  courteous 
manner,  and  with  very  great  gentleness,"  says  an  eye- 
witness. "  During  the  colloquy  no  other  words  than 
these  were  heard:  'Sir,  and  very  dear  friend,  your 
charity,'  or  other  similar  expressions.  Not  a  word  of 
schism  or  of  heresy.  It  might  have  been  said  that 
Luther  and  Zwingle  were  brothers,  and  not  adver- 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


saries."  This  is  the  testimony  of  Brentz.  But  these 
fiowcrs  concealed  an  abyss,  and  Jonas,  also  an  eye- 
witness, styles  the  conference  "  a  very  sharp  contest." 
The  contagion  that  had  suddenly  broken  out  in  Mar- 
burg was  creating  frightful  ravages,  and  filled  every- 
body with  alarm.  All  were  anxious  to  leave  the  city. 
"  Sirs,"  remarked  the  landgrave,  "  you  cannot  separate 
thus."  And  desirous  of  giving  the  doctors'  an  oppor- 
tunity of  meeting  one  another  with  minds  unoccupied 
with  theological  debates,  he  invited  them  to  his  table. 
This  was  Sunday  night. 

Philip  of  Hesse  had  all  along  shewn  the  most  con- 
stant attention,  and  each  one  imagined  him  to  be  on 
his  side.  "  I  would  rather  place  my  trust  in  the  simple 
words  of  Christ,  than  in  the  subtle  thoughts  of  man," 
was  a  remark  he  made,  according  to  Jonas;  but  Zwingle 
affirmed  that  this  prince  entertained  the  same  opinions 
as  himself,  although  with  regard  to  certain  persons  he 
dissembled  the  change.  Luther,  sensible  of  the  weak- 
ness of  his  defence  as  to  the  declarations  of  the  Fathers, 
transmitted  a  note  to  Philip,  in  which  several  passages 
were  pointed  out  from  Hilary,  Chrysostom,  Cyprian, 
Irenreus,  and  Ambrose,  which  he  thought  were  in  his 
favour. 

The  time  of  departure  drew  near,  and  nothing  had 
been  done.  The  landgrave  toiled  earnestly  at  the 
union,  as  Luther  wrote  to  his  wife.  He  invited  the 
theologians  one  after  another  into  his  closet;  he  pressed, 
entreated,  wai-ned,  exhorted,  and  conjured  them. 
"  Think,"  said  he,  "  of  the  salvation  of  the  Christian 
republic,  and  remove  all  discord  from  its  bosom." 
Never  had  general  at  the  head  of  an  army  taken  such 
pains  to  win  a  battle. 

A  final  meeting  took  place,  and  undoubtedly  the 
Chiu-ch  has  seldom  witnessed  one  of  greater  solemnity. 
Luther  and  Zwingle — Saxony  and  Switzerland — met 
for  the  last  time.  The  sweating  sickness  was  carry- 
ing off  men  around  them  by  thousands ;  Charles  the 
Fifth  and  the  pope  were  uniting  in  Italy;  Ferdinand 
and  the  Roman  Catholic  princes  were  preparing  to 
tear  in  pieces  the  Protest  of  Spires ;  the  thunder-cloud 
became  more  threatening  every  day;  union  alone  seemed 
capable  of  saving  the  Protestants,  and  the  hour  of  de- 
parture was  about  to  strike — an  hoiu"  that  would  sepa- 
rate them,  perhaps,  for  ever. 

"  Let  us  confess  our  union  in  all  things  in  which  we 
agree,"  said  Zwingle;  "and  as  for  the  rest,  let  us 
remember  that  we  are  brothers.  There  will  never  be 
peace  between  the  churches  if,  while  we  maintain  the 
gi-and  doctrine  of  salvation  by  faith,  we  cannot  differ 
on  secondary  points."  Such  is,  in  fact,  the  true  prin- 
ciple of  Christian  union.  The  sixteenth  century  was 
still  too  deeply  sunk  in  scholasticism  to  understand 
this :  let  us  hope  that  the  nineteenth  century  will  com- 
prehend it  better. 

"  Yes,  yes ! "  exclaimed  the  landgrave ;  "  you  agree ! 
Give,  then,  a  testimony  of  your  unity,  and  recognise 
one  another  as  brothers." — "There  is  no  one  upon 
earth  with  whom  I  more  desire  to  be  united,  than  with 
you,"  said  Zwingle,  approaching  the  Wittemberg  doc- 
tors. Qicolarapadius,  Bucer,  and  Hedio,  said  the  same. 
"  Acknowledge  them  ! — acknowledge  them  as  bro- 
thers ! "  continued  the  landgrave.  Their  hearts  were 
moved ;  they  were  on  the  eve  of  unity:  Zwingle,  burst- 


ing into  tears,  in  the  presence  of  the  prince,  the  cour- 
tiers, and  divines,  (it  is  Luther  himself  who  records 
this,)  approached  Luther,  and  held  out  his  hand.  The 
two  families  of  the  Reformation  were  about  to  be 
united :  long  quarrels  were  about  to  be  stifled  in  their 
cradle ;  but  Luther  rejected  the  hand  that  was  offered 
him  :  "  You  have  a  different  spirit  from  ours,"  said  he. 
These  words  communicated  to  the  Swiss,  as  it  were, 
an  electric  shock.  Their  hearts  sunk  each  time  Luther 
repeated  them,  and  he  did  so  frequently.  He  himself 
is  our  informant. 

A  brief  consultation  took  place  among  the  Wittem- 
berg doctors.  Luther,  Melancthon,  Agricola,  Brentz, 
Jonas,  and  Osiander,  conferred  together.  Convinced 
that  their  peculiar  doctrine  on  the  Eucharist  was  essen- 
tial to  salvation,  they  considered  all  those  who  rejected 
it  as  without  the  pale  of  the  faith.  "What  folly!" 
said  Melancthon,  who  afterwards  nearly  coincided  with 
Zwingle's  sentiments  :  "  they  condemn  us,  and  yet  they 
desire  we  should  consider  them  as  our  brothers ! " 
"What  versatility!"  added  Brentz:  "  they  accused  us 
but  lately  of  worshipping  a  bread-god,  and  they  now 
ask  for  communion  with  us !"  Then,  turning  towards 
Zwingle  and  his  friends,  the  Wittembergers  said : 
"  You  do  not  belong  to  the  communion  of  the  Chris- 
tian Church;  we  cannot  acknowledge  you  as  brethren  !" 
The  Swiss  were  far  from  partaking  of  this  sectarian 
spirit.  "  We  think,"  said  Bucer,  "  that  your  doctrine 
strikes  at  the  glory  of  Jesus  Christ,  who  now  reigns  at 
the  right  hand  of  the  Father.  But  seeing  that  in  all 
things  you  acknowledge  your  dependence  on  the  Lord, 
we  look  at  your  conscience,  which  compels  you  to 
receive  the  doctrine  you  profess,  and  we  do  not  doubt 
that  you  belong  to  Christ." 

"  And  we,"  said  Luther — "  we  declare  to  you  once 
more  that  our  conscience  opposes  our  receiving  you  as 
brethren." — "If  such  is  the  case,"  replied  Bucer,  "it 
would  be  folly  to  ask  it." 

"  I  am  exceedingly  astonished  that  you  wish  to  con- 
sider me  as  your  brother,"  pursued  Luther.  "  It  shews 
clearly  that  you  do  not  attach  much  importance  to 
your  own  doctrine." 

"  Take  your  choice,"  said  Bucer,  proposing  a  dilemma 
to  the  reformer :  "  either  you  should  not  acknowledge 
as  brethren  those  who  differ  from  you  on  any  point — 
and  if  so,  you  will  not  find  a  single  brother  in  your 
own  ranks — or  else  you  will  receive  some  of  those  who 
differ  from  you,  and  then  you  ought  to  receive  us." 

The  Swiss  had  exhausted  their  solicitations.  "  We 
are  conscious,"  said  they,  "  of  having  acted  as  if  in  the 
presence  of  God.  Posterity  will  be  our  witness."  They 
were  on  the  point  of  retiring :  Luther  remained  like  a 
rock,  to  the  landgi'ave's  great  indignation.  The  Hes- 
sian divines — Kraft,  Lambert,  Snepf,  Lonicer,  and  Me- 
lander — united  their  exertions  to  those  of  the  prince. 

Luther  was  staggered,  and  conferred  anew  with  his 
colleagues.  "  Let  us  beware,"  said  he  to  his  friends, 
"  of  wiping  our  noses  too  roughly,  lest  blood  should 
come." 

Then,  turning  to  Zwingle  and  Qicolampadius,  they 
said :  "  We  acknowledge  you  as  friends  ;  we  do  not 
consider  you  as  brothers  and  members  of  Christ's 
Church.  But  we  do  not  exclude  you  from  that  uni- 
versal charity  which  we  owe  even  to  our  enemies." 


UNITY  OF  DOCTRINE. 


The  hearts  of  Zwingle,  CEcoIampadius,  and  Bucer, 
were  ready  to  burst,  for  this  concessioQ  was  ahnost  a 
new  insult.  "  Let  us  carefully  avoid  all  harsh  and 
violent  words  and  writings,"  said  they;  '"and  let  each 
one  defend  himself  without  railing," 

Luther  then  advanced  towards  the  Swiss,  and  said  : 
"  Wo  consent,  and  I  offer  yon  the  hand  of  peace  and 
charity."  The  Swiss  rushed  in  great  emotion  towards 
the  Wittembergers,  and  all  shook  hands.  Luther  him- 
self was  softened:  Christian  charity  resumed  her 
rights  in  his  heart.  "  Assuredly,"  said  he,  "  a  great 
portion  of  the  scandal  is  taken  away  by  the  suppres- 
sion of  our  tierce  debates  ;  we  could  not  have  hoped 
for  so  much.  May  Christ's  hand  remove  the  la.st 
obstacle  that  separates  ns,  and  if  wc  persevere  in 
prayer,  brotherhood  will  come." 

It  was  desirable  to  confirm  this  important  result  by 
a  report.  "  We  must  let  the  Christian  world  know," 
said  the  landgrave,  "  that,  except  the  manner  of  the 
presence  of  the  body  and  blood  in  the  Eucharist,  you 
ore  agreed  in  all  the  articles  of  faith."  This  Wiis 
resolved  on ;  but  who  should  be  charged  with  drawing 
up  the  paper?  All  eyes  were  turned  upon  Luther. 
The  Swiss  themselves  appealed  to  his  impartiality. 

Luther  retired  to  his  closet,  lost  in  thought,  uneasy, 
and  finding  the  task  very  diiTicult.  "On  the  one 
hand,"  said  he,  "  I  should  like  to  spare  their  weak- 
ness; but,  on  the  other,  I  would  not  in  the  least  degree 
strike  at  the  holy  doctrine  of  Christ."  He  did  not 
know  how  to  set  about  it,  and  his  anguish  increased. 
He  got  free  at  last.  "  I  will  draw  up  the  articles," 
said  he,  "in  the  most  accurate  manner.  Do  I  not 
know  that  whatever  I  may  write,  they  will  never  sign 
them?"  Erelong  fifteen  articles  were  committed  to 
paper,  and  Luther,  holding  them  in  his  hand,  repaired 
to  the  theologians  of  the  two  parties. 

These  articles  are  of  importance.  The  two  doctrines 
that  were  evolved  in  Switzerland  and  in  Saxony,  inde- 
pendently of  each  other,  were  brought  together  and 
compared.  If  they  were  of  man,  there  would  be  found 
in  them  a  servile  uniformity,  or  a  remarkable  opposi- 
tion. This  was  not  the  case.  A  great  unity  was 
found  between  the  German  and  the  Swiss  Reforma- 
tions, for  they  both  proceeded  from  the  same  Divine 
teaching ;  and  a  diversity  on  secondary  points,  for  it 
was  by  man's  instrumentality  that  God  had  effected 
them. 

Luther  took  his  paper,  and  reading  the  first  article, 
said : 

"  First,  we  believe  that  there  is  one  sole,  true,  and 
natural  God,  Creator  of  heaven  and  earth,  and  of  all 
creatures  ;  and  that  this  same  God,  one  in  essence  and 
in  nature,  is  three-fold  in  person,  that  is  to  say,  Father, 
Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,  as  was  declared  in  the  Nicene 
Council,  and  as  all  the  Christian  Church  professes." 

To  this  the  Swiss  gave  their  assent. 

They  were  agreed  also  on  the  Divinity  and  humanity 
of  Jesus  Christ ;  on  His  death  and  resurrection,  on 
original  sin,  justification  by  faith,  the  operation  of  the 
Holy  Ghost  and  of  the  Word  of  God,  baptism,  good 
works,  confession,  civil  order,  and  tradition. 

Thus  far  all  were  imited.  The  Wittembergers  could 
not  recover  from  their  astonishment.  The  two  parties 
had  rejected,  on  the  one  hand,  the  errors  of  the  Papists, 


who  make  religion  little  more  than  an  outward  form  ; 
and,  on  the  other,  those  of  the  Enthusiasts,  who  speak 
exclusively  of  internal  feelings  ;  and  they  were  found 
drawn  u])  under  the  same  banners,  between  these  two 
camps.  But  the  moment  was  come  that  would  separate 
them.  Luther  had  kept  till  the  last  the  article  on  the 
Eucharist. 

The  reformer  resumed : 

"  We  all  believe,  with  regard  to  the  Lord's  Supper, 
that  it  ought  to  be  celebrated  in  both  kinds,  according 
to  the  primitive  institution ;  that  the  mass  is  not  a  work 
by  which  a  Christian  obtains  pardon  for  another  man, 
whether  dead  or  alive ;  that  the  sacrament  of  the  altar 
is  the  sacrament  of  the  very  body  and  very  blood  of 
Jesus  Christ;  and  that  the  spiritual  manducation  of 
this  body  and  blood  is  specially  necessary  to  every 
true  Christian." 

It  was  now  the  turn  of  the  Swiss  to  be  astonished. 
Luther  continued  : 

"In  like  manner,  as  to  the  use  of  the  sacrament,  we 
are  agreed  that,  like  the  Word,  it  was  ordained  of 
Almighty  God,  in  order  that  weak  consciences  might 
be  excited  by  the  Holy  Ghost  to  faith  and  charity." 

The  joy  of  the  Swiss  was  redoubled.  Luther  con- 
tinued:  "And,  although  at  present  we  are  not  agreed 
on  the  question  whether  the  real  body  and  blood  of 
Christ  are  corporeally  present  in  the  bread  and  wine, 
yet  both  the  interested  parties  shall  cherish  more  and 
more  a  truly  Christian  charity  for  one  another,  so  far 
as  conscience  permits ;  and  we  will  all  earnestly  im- 
plore the  Lord  to  condescend,  by  His  Spirit,  to  confirm 
us  in  the  sound  doctrine." 

The  Swiss  obtained  what  they  had  asked :  unity  in 
diversity.  It  was  immediately  resolved  to  hold  a 
solemn  meeting  for  the  signature  of  the  articles. 

They  were  read  over  again.  OScoIampadius,  Zwingle, 
Bucer,  and  Hedio,  signed  them  first  on  one  copy;  while 
Luther,  Melancthon,  Jonas,  Osiander,  Brentz,  and 
Agricola,  wrote  their  names  on  the  other ;  both  parties 
then  subscribed  the  copy  of  their  adversaries,  and  this 
important  document  was  sent  to  the  press. ' 

Thus  the  Reformation  had  made  a  sensible  step  at 
Marbm-g.  The  opinion  of  Zwingle  on  the  spiritual 
presence,  and  of  Luther  on  the  bodily  presence,  are 
both  found  in  Christian  antiquity;  but  both  the  ex- 
treme doctrines  have  been  always  rejected  :  that  of  the 
Rationalists  on  the  one  hand,  who  behold  in  the  Eu- 
charist nothing  but  a  simple  commemoration ;  and  of 
the  Papists,  on  the  other,  who  adore  in  it  a  transub- 
stantiation.  These  are  both  errors;  while  the  doctrines 
of  Luther  and  Zwingle,  and  the  medium  taken  by 
Calvin,  already  maintained  by  some  of  the  Fathers, 
were  considered  in  ancient  times  as  different  views  of 
the  same  truth.  If  Luther  had  yielded,  it  might  have 
been  feared  that  the  Church  would  fall  into  the  ex- 
treme of  Rationalism  ;  if  Zwingle,  that  it  would  rush 
into  the  extreme  of  Popery.  It  is  a  salutary  thing  for 
the  Church  that  these  different  views  should  be  enter- 
tained ;  but  it  is  a  pernicious  thing  for  individuals  to 
attach  themselves  to  one  of  them  in  such  a  manner 
as  to  anathematize  the  other.      "There  is  only  this 

1  Bullinger  and  others  indicate  the  3d  October  .as  the  day  on  which  the 
articlea  were  signed;  Osiander,  an  eye-witness,  and  whose  narrative  is  very 
exact,  says  it  was  the  4th,  which  agrees  with  all  the  other  data. 


438 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


little  stumbling-block,"  -wrote  Melancthon,  "  that  em- 
barrasses the  Church  of  our  Lord." 

AH  —  Komanists  and  Evangelicals,  Saxons  and 
Swiss — admitted  the  presence,  and  even  the  real 
presence  of  Christ ;  but  here  was  the  essential  point 
of  separation :  Is  this  presence  effected  by  the  faith  of 
the  communicant,  or  by  the  opus  operatum  of  the  priest? 
The  germs  of  Popery,  Sacerdotalism,  Puseyism,  are 
inevitably  contained  in  this  latter  thesis.  If  it  is  main- 
tained that  a  wicked  priest  (as  has  been  said)  operates 
this  real  presence  of  Christ  by  tliree  words,  we  enter 
the  church  of  the  pope.  Luther  appeared  sometimes 
to  admit  this  doctrine,  but  he  has  often  spoken  in  a 
more  spiritual  manner ;  and  taking  this  great  man  in 
his  best  moments,  we  behold  merely  an  essential  unity 
and  a  secondary  diversity  in  the  two  parties  of  the 
Reformation.  Undoubtedly  the  Lord  has  left  His 
Church  outward  seals  of  His  grace ;  but  He  has  not 
attached  salvation  to  these  signs.  The  essential  point 
is  the  connection  of  the  faithful  with  the  Word,  witli 
the  Holy  Ghost,  with  the  Head  of  the  Church.  This 
is  the  great  truth  which  the  Swiss  reform  proclaims, 
and  whicli  Lutheranism  itseK  recognises.  After  the 
Marburg  conference,  the  controversy  became  more 
moderate. 

There  was  another  advantage.  The  evangelical 
divines  at  Marburg  marked  with  one  accord  their 
separation  from  the  Papacy.  Zwingle  was  not  without 
fear  (unfounded,  no  doubt)  with  regard  to  Luther : 
these  fears  were  dispersed.  "Now  that  we  are 
agreed,"  said  he,  "the  Papists  will  no  longer  hope 
that  Luther  will  ever  be  one  of  them."  The  Marburg 
articles  were  the  first  bulwark  erected  in  common  by 
the  reformers  against  Rome. 

It  was  not,  then,  in  vain  that,  after  the  Protest  of 
Spires,  Philip  of  Hesse  endeavoured,  at  Marburg,  to 
bring  together  the  friends  of  the  Gospel.  But  if  the 
religious  object  was  partially  attained,  the  political 
object  almost  entirely  failed.  They  could  not  arrive 
at  a  confederation  of  Switzerland  and  Germany. 
Nevertheless,  Philip  of  Hesse  and  Zwingle,  with  a 
view  to  this,  had  numerous  secret  conversations,  which 
made  the  Saxons  uneasy,  as  they  were  not  less  opposed 
to  Zwingle's  politics  than  to  his  theology.  "  When 
you  have  reformed  the  peasant's  cap,"  said  Jonas  to 
him,  "  you  wiU  also  claim  to  reform  the  sable  hat  of 
princes." 

The  landgrave  having  collected  all  the  doctors  at  his 
table  on  the  last  day,  they  shook  hands  in  a  friendly 
manner,  and  each  one  thought  of  leaving  the  town. 

On  Tuesday,  the  5th  October,  Philip  of  Hesse 
quitted  Marburg  early,  and  in  the  afternoon  of  the 
same  day,  Luther  departed,  accompanied  by  his  col- 
leagues ;  l)ut  he  did  not  go  forth  as  a  conqueror.  A 
spirit  of  dejection  and  alarm  had  taken  possession  of 
his  mind.  He  writhed  in  the  dust,  like  a  worm,  accord- 
ing to  his  own  expression.  He  fancied  he  should  never 
see  his  wife  and  children  again,  and  cried  out  that  he, 
"the  consoler  of  so  many  tortured  souls,  was  now 
without  any  consolation  ! " 

This  state  might  partly  arise  from  Luther's  want  of 
brotherly  feeling ;  but  it  had  other  causes  also.  SoU- 
man  had  come  to  fulfil  a  promise  made  to  King 
Ferdinand.      The  latter  having   demanded,  in  1528, 


the  surrender  of  Belgrade,  the  sultan  had  haughtily 
replied  that  he  would  bring  the  keys  himself  to  Vienna. 
In  fact,  the  Grand  Turk,  crossing  the  frontiers  of 
Germany,  had  invaded  countries  "  on  which  the  hoofs 
of  the  Mussulman  war-horses  had  never  trod;"  and 
eight  days  before  the  conference  at  Marburg,  he  had 
covered  with  his  innumerable  tents  the  plain  and  the 
fertile  hills  in  the  midst  of  which  rise  the  walls  of 
Vienna.  The  struggle  had  begun  under  ground,  the 
two  parties  having  dug  deep  galleries  beneath  the  ram- 
parts. Three  different  times  the  Turkish  mines  were 
exploded ;  the  walls  were  thrown  down ;  "  the  balls 
flew  through  the  air  like  a  flight  of  small  birds,"  says 
a  Turkish  historian  ;  "  and  there  was  a  horrible  ban- 
quet, at  which  the  genii  of  death  joyously  drained  their 
glasses." 

Luther  did  not  keep  in  the  background.  He  had 
already  written  against  the  Turks,  and  now  he  pub- 
lished a  Battle- Sermon.  "Mohammed,"  said  he,  "exalts 
Christ  as  being  without  sin ;  but  he  denies  that  He 
was  the  true  God ;  he  is  therefore  His  enemy.  Alas  ! 
to  this  hour  the  world  is  such  that  it  seems  everywhere 
to  rain  disciples  of  Mohammed.  Two  men  ought  to 
oppose  the  Turks ;  the  first  is  Christian,  that  is  to  say. 
Prayer;  the  second  is  Charles,  that  is  to  say.  The 
sword."  And  in  another  place,  "I  know  my  dear 
Germans  well,  fat  and  well-fed  swine  as  they  are, — no 
sooner  is  the  danger  removed  than  they  tliink  only  of 
eating  and  sleeping.  Wretched  man  !  if  thou  dost  not 
take  up  arms,  the  Turk  will  come ;  he  will  carry  thee 
away  into  his  Turkey ;  he  will  there  sell  thee  like  a 
dog ;  and  thou  shalt  serve  him  night  and  day,  under 
the  rod  and  the  cudgel,  for  a  glass  of  water  and  a 
morsel  of  bread.  Think  on  this ;  be  converted,  and 
implore  the  Lord  not  to  give  thee  the  Turk  for  thy 
schoolmaster." 

The  two  arms  pointed  out  by  Luther  were,  in  reality, 
vigorously  employed ;  and  Soliman,  perceiving  at  last 
that  he  was  not  "the  soul  of  the  universe,"  as  his  poets 
had  styled  him,  but  that  there  was  a  strength  in  the 
world  superior  to  his  own,  raised  the  seige  of  Vienna 
on  the  16th  October;  and  "the  shadow  of  God  over 
the  two  worlds,"  as  lie  called  himself,  "  disappeared, 
and  vanished  in  the  Bosphorus." 

But  Luther  imagined  that,  when  retiring  from  before 
the  walls  of  Vienna,  "  the  Turk,  or  at  least  his  god, 
who  is  the  devil,"  had  rushed  upon  him ;  and  that  it 
was  this  enemy  of  Christ,  and  of  Christ's  servants, 
that  he  was  destined  to  combat  and  vanquish  in  his 
frightful  agony.  There  is  an  immediate  reaction  of 
the  violated  law  upon  him  who  violates  it.  Now 
Luther  had  transgressed  the  royal  law,  which  is 
charity,  and  he  suffered  the  penalty.  At  last  he  re- 
entered Wittemberg,  and  flung  himself  into  the  arms 
of  his  friends,  "tormented  by  the  angel  of  death." 

Let  us  not,  however,  overlook  the  essential  qualities 
of  a  reformer  that  Luther  manifested  at  Marburg. 
There  are  in  God's  work,  as  in  a  drama,  different 
parts.  What  various  characters  we  see  among  the 
apostles,  and  among  the  reformers !  It  has  been  said 
that  the  same  characters  and  the  same  parts  were 
assigned  to  St.  Peter  and  to  Luther,  at  the  time  of  the 
Formation  and  of  the  Reformation  of  the  Church. ' 


THE  -VICTORY— EXASPERATION  OF  THE  PAPISTS. 


They  were  both,  in  fact,  men  of  the  initiative,  who 
start  forward  (juite  alone,  but  around  whom  an  army 
soon  collects  at  the  sight  of  the  standard  which  they 
wave.  But  there  wsis,  perhaps,  in  the  reformer  a 
characteristic  not  existing  to  the  same  degree  in  the 
apostle:  this  was  firmness. 

As  for  Zwingle,  he  quitted  Marburg  in  alarm  at 
Luther's  intolerance.  "  Luthcranism,"  wrote  he  to  the 
landgrave,  "will  lie  as  heavy  upon  us  as  Popery."  He 
reached  Zurich  on  tlie  I'Jth  October.  "The  truth," 
said  he  to  his  friends,  "  has  prevailed  so  manifestly, 
that  if  ever  any  one  has  been  defeated  before  all  tlic 
world,  it  is  Luther,  although  he  constantly  exclaimed 
that  he  was  invincible."  On  his  side  Luther  spoke  in 
a  similar  strain.  "It  is  through  fear  of  their  follow- 
citizeus,"  added  he,  "  that  the  Swiss,  although  van- 
qnislied,  arc  unwilling  to  retract." 

If  it  should  be  asked  on  which  side  the  victory  really 
was,  perhaps  we  ought  to  say  that  Luther  assumed  the 
air  of  a  conqueror,  but  Zwingle  was  so  in  reality.  The 
conference  propagated  through  all  Germany  tlie  doc- 
trine of  the  Swiss,  which  had  been  little  kno^vn  there 
until  then,  and  it  was  adopted  by  an  immense  number 
of  persons.  Among  these  were  Laffards,  fii-st  rector 
of  St.  Martin's  school  at  Brunswick,  Dionysius  Me- 
lander,  Justus  Leniug,  Ilartmann,  Ibach,  and  many 
others.  Tlie  landgrave  himself,  a  short  time  before 
his  death,  declared  that  this  conference  had  induced 
him  to  renounce  the  oral  manducation  of  Christ. 

Still  the  dominant  principle  at  this  celebrated  epoch 


was  imity.  The  adversaries  are  the  best  judges.  The 
Roman  Catholics  were  exasperated  that  the  Lutherans 
and  Zwinglians  had  agreed  on  all  the  essential  points 
of  faith.  "They  have  a  fellow-feeling  against  the 
Catholic  Church,"  said  the)',  "as  Herod  and  Pilate 
against  Jesus  Christ."  The  enthusiastic  sects  said  the 
same,  and  the  extreme  hierarchical  as  well  as  the 
extreme  radical  party  deprecated  alike  the  unity  of 
Marburg. 

Erelong  a  gi-eater  agitation  eclipsed  all  these  rumours, 
and  events  which  threatened  the  whole  evangelical 
body,  proclaimed  its  great  and  intimate  union  with 
new  force.  The  emperor,  it  was  everywhere  said, 
exasperated  by  the  protest  of  Spires,  had  landed  at 
Genoa  with  the  pomp  of  a  conqueror.  After  having 
sworn  at  Barcelona  to  reduce  the  heretics  under  the 
power  of  the  pope,  he  was  going  to  visit  this  pontiff, 
humbly  to  bend  the  knee  before  him ;  and  he  would 
rise  only  to  cross  the  Alps  and  accomplish  his  terrible 
designs.  "  The  Emperor  Charles,"  said  Luther,  a  few 
days  after  the  landing  of  this  prince,  "has  determined 
to  shew  himself  more  cruel  against  us  than  the  Turk 
himself,  and  he  h;is  already  uttered  the  most  horrible 
threats.  Behold  the  hour  of  Christ's  agony  and  weak- 
ness. Let  us  pray  for  all  those  who  will  soon  have  to 
endure  captivity  and  death." 

Such  was  the  news  that  then  agitated  all  Germany. 
The  grand  question  was,  whether  the  Protest  of  Spires 
could  be  maintained  against  the  power  of  the  emperor 
and  of  the  pope.     This  was  seen  in  the  year  1530. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


BOOK     XIV. 


THE   AUGSBURG   CONFESSION — 1530. 


CHAPTER  I. 


Two  Striking  Lessons-Charles  V.  in  Italy— The  German  Envoys— Their 
Boldness— The  Landgrave's  Present-The  Envoys  under  Arrest— Their 
Release  and  Departure— Meeting  of  Charles  and  Clement— Gattinara's 
Proposition— Clement's  Anns— War  Imminent— Luther's  Objections— 
The  Saviour's  Coming— Charles's  Conciliatory  Language— The  Emperor's 
Motives. 

The  Reformation  was  accomplished  in  the  name  of  a 
spiritual  principle.  It  had  proclaimed  for  its  teacher 
the  Word  of  God;  for  salvation,  faith;  for  king, 
Jesus  Christ ;  for  arms,  the  Holy  Ghost ;  and  had  by 
these  very  means  rejected  all  worldly  elements.  Rome 
had  been  established  by  the  law  of  a  carnal  command- 
ment ;  the  Reformation,  by  the  poiver  of  an  endless  life, 
(Hebrews  vii.  16.) 

If  there  is  any  doctrine  that  distinguishes  Christian- 
ity from  every  other  religion,  it  is  its  spirituality.  A 
heavenly  life  brought  it  down  to  man — such  is  its 
work  ;  thus  the  opposition  of  the  spirit  of  the  Gospel 
to  the  spirit  of  the  world,  was  the  great  fact  which 
signalized  the  entrance  of  Christianity  among  the 
nations.  But  what  its  Founder  had  separated  had 
soon  come  together  again ;  the  Church  had  fallen  into 
the  arms  of  the  world,  and  by  this  criminal  union  it 
had  been  reduced  to  the  deplorable  condition  in  which 
we  find  it  at  the  era  of  the  Reformation. 

Thus  one  of  the  greatest  tasks  of  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury was  to  restore  the  spiritual  element  to  its  rights. 
The  Gospel  of  the  Reformers  had  nothing  to  do  with 
the  world  and  with  politics.  AVhile  the  Roman  hier- 
archy had  become  a  matter  of  diplomacy  and  a  court 
intrigue,  the  Reformation  was  destined  to  exercise  no 
other  influence  over  princes  and  people  than  that  which 
proceeds  from  the  Gospel  of  peace. 

If  the  Reformation,  having  attained  a  certain  point, 
became  untrue  to  its  nature,  began  to  parley  and  tem- 
porize with  the  world,  and  cease  thus  to  follow  up  the 
spiritual  principle  that  it  had  so  loudly  proclaimed,  it 
was  faithless  to  God  and  to  itself. 

Henceforward  its  decline  was  at  hand. 

It  is  impossible  for  a  society  to  prosper  if  it  be 
unfaithful  to  the  principles  it  lays  down.  Having 
abandoned  what  constituted  its  life,  it  can  find  naught 
but  death. 

It  was  God's  will  that  this  great  truth  should  be 
inscribed  on  the  very  threshold  of  the  temple  He  was 
then  raising  in  the  world ;  and  a  striking  contrast  was 
to  make  this  truth  stand  gloriously  prominent. 

One  portion  of  the  reform  was  to  seek  the  alliance 
of  the  world,  and  in  this  alliance  find  a  destruction 
full  of  desolation. 

Another  portion,  looking  up  to  God,  was  haughtily 
to  reject  the  arm  of  the  flesh,  and  by  this  very  act  of 
faith  secure  a  noble  victory. 


If  three  centuries  have  gone  astray,  it  is  because 
they  were  unable  to  comprehend  so  holy  and  so  solemn 
a  lesson. 

It  was  in  the  beginning  of  September,  1529,  that 
Charles  V.,  the  victor  by  battles  or  by  treaties  over 
the  pope  and  the  King  of  France,  landed  at  Genoa 
The  shouts  of  the  Spaniards  had  saluted  him  as  ho 
quitted  the  Iberian  peninsula ;  but  the  dejected  eyes, 
the  bended  heads,  the  silent  lips  of  the  Italians  given 
over  to  his  hands,  alone  welcomed  him  to  the  foot  of 
the  Apennines.  Everything  led  to  the  belief  that 
Charles  would  indemnify  himself  on  them  for  the 
apparent  generosity  with  which  he  had  treated  the 
pope. 

They  were  deceived.  Instead  of  those  barbarous 
chiefs  of  the  Goths  and  Huns — instead  of  those  proud 
and  fierce  emperors,  who  more  than  once  had  crossed 
the  Alps  and  rushed  upon  Italy,  sword  in  hand,  and 
with  cries  of  vengeance,  the  Italians  saw  among  them 
a  young  and  graceful  prince,  with  pale  features,  a 
delicate  frame,  and  weak  voice,  of  winning  manners, 
having  more  the  air  of  a  courtier  than  of  a  warrior, 
scrupulously  performing  all  the  duties  of  the  Romish 
religion,  and  leading  in  his  train  no  teirible  cohorts  of 
German  barbarians ;  but  a  brilliant  retinue  of  Spanish 
grandees,  who  condescendingly  paraded  the  pride  of 
their  race,  and  the  splendour  of  their  nation.  This 
prince,  the  victor  of  Europe,  spoke  only  of  peace  and 
amnesty;  and  even  the  Duke  of  Ferrara,  who  of  all 
the  Italian  princes  had  most  cause  of  fear,  having  at 
Modena  placed  the  keys  of  the  city  in  his  hands,  heard 
from  his  friendly  lips  the  most  unexpected  encourage- 
ments. 

Whence  did  this  strange  conduct  proceed  ?  Charles 
had  shewn  plainly  enough,  at  the  time  of  the  captivity 
of  Francis  I.,  that  generosity  towards  his  enemies  was 
not  his  dominant  virtue.  It  was  not  long  before  this 
mystery  was  explained. 

Almost  at  the  same  time  with  Charles,  there  arrived 
in  Italy,  by  way  of  Lyons  and  Genoa,  three  German 
burgesses,  whose  whole  equipage  consisted  of  six  horses. 
These  were  John  Ehinger,  burgomaster  of  Memmingeu, 
who  carried  his  head  high,  scattered  money  around 
him,  and  who  was  not  remarkable  for  great  sobriety; 
Michael  Caden,  syndic  of  Nuremberg,  a  worthy,  pious, 
and  brave  man,  but  detested  by  the  Count  of  Nassau, 
the  most  influential  of  Charles's  ministers  ;  and,  lastly, 
Alexis  Frauentraut,  secretary  to  the  Margrave  of 
Brandenburg,  who,  having  married  a  nun,  was  in  very 
bad  odour  among  the  Roman  Catholics.  Such  were 
the  three  men  whom  the  Protestant  princes,  assembled 
fit  Nuremberg,  commissioned  to  bear  to  the  emperor 
the  famous  Protest  of    Spires.     They  had  purposely 


THE  GERMAN  ENVOYS. 


441 


chosen  these  deputies  from  a  middle  station,  under  the 
impression  that  they  would  incur  less  danger.  To 
carry  such  a  message  to  Charles  V.  was,  to  say  the 
truth,  a  task  that  few  persons  cared  to  execute. 
Accordingly,  a  pension  had  been  secured  to  the 
widows  of  these  envoys  in  case  of  misfortune. 

Charles  was  on  his  way  from  Genoa  to  Bologna, 
and  staying  at  Piacenza,  when  the  three  Protestant 
deputies  overtook  him.  These  plain  Germans  pre- 
sented a  singular  contnust  in  the  midst  of  that  Spanish 
pomp  and  Koinish  fervour  by  which  the  young  prince 
was  surrrounded.  Cardinal  Gattinara,  the  emperor's 
chancellor,  who  sincerely  desired  a  reform  of  the 
Church,  procured  tliem  an  audience  of  Charles  V.  for 
the  22d  of  September;  but  they  were  recommended  to 
be  sparing  in  their  words,  for  there  was  nothing  the 
emperor  so  much  disliked  as  a  Protestant  sermon. 

The  deputies  were  not  chocked  by  these  intimations ; 
and,  after  handing  the  protest  to  Charles,  Frauontraut 
began  to  speak  :  '-It  is  to  the  Supreme  Judge  tiiat  each 
one  of  us  must  render  an  account,"  said  he,  "  and  not 
to  creatures  who  turu  at  every  wind.  It  is  better  to 
fall  into  the  most  cruel  necessity,  than  to  incur  the 
anger  of  God.  Our  nation  will  obey  no  decrees  that 
are  based  on  any  other  foundation  than  the  Holy 
Scriptures." 

Such  was  the  proud  tone  held  by  those  German 
citizens  to  the  emperor  of  the  West.  Charles  said  not 
a  word — it  would  have  been  paying  them  too  much 
honour;  but  he  charged  one  of  his  secretaries  to  an- 
nounce an  answer  at  some  future  time. 

There  was  no  hurry  to  send  back  those  paltry  am- 
bassadors. In  vain  did  they  renew  their  solicitations 
daily.  Gattinara  treated  them  with  kindness,  but 
Nassau  sent  them  away  with  bitter  words.  A  work- 
man, the  armourer  to  the  court,  having  to  visit  Augs- 
burg to  purchase  arms,  begged  flio  Count  of  Nassau 
to  despatch  the  Protestant  deputies.  "  You  may  tell 
them,"  replied  the  minister  of  Charles  V.,  "  that  we 
will  terminate  their  business  in  order  that  you  may 
have  travelling  companions."  But  the  armourer  having 
found  other  company,  they  were  compelled  to  wait. 

These  envoys  endeavoured,  at  least,  to  make  a  good 
use  of  their  time.  "  Take  this  book,"  said  the  land- 
grave to  Caden,  at  the  very  moment  of  departure, 
giving  him  a  French  work  bound  in  velvet,  and  richly 
ornamented,  "  and  deliver  it  to  the  emperor."  It  was 
a  summary  of  the  Christian  Faith  which  the  landgrave 
had  received  from  Francis  Lambert,  and  which  had 
probably  been  written  by  that  doctor.  Caden  sought 
an  opportunity  of  presenting  this  treatise ;  and  did  so 
one  day,  as  Charles  was  going  publicly  to  mass.  The 
emperor  took  the  book,  and  passed  it  immediately  to  a 
Spanish  bishop.  The  Spaniard  began  to  read  it,  and 
lighted  upon  that  passage  of  Scripture  in  which  Christ 
enjoins  His  apostles  not  to  exercise  lorclship,  (Luke  xxii. 
26.)  The  author  took  advantage  of  it  to  maintain 
that  the  minister,  charged  with  spiritual  matters, 
should  not  interfere  with  those  which  are  temporal. 
The  papist  prelate  bit  his  lips,  and  Charles,  who  per- 
ceived it,  having  asked,  "  Well,  what  is  the  matter  ? " 
the  bishop,  in  confusion,  had  recourse  to  a  falsehood. 
"This  treatise,"  replied  he,  "takes  the  sword  from  the 
Christian   magistrate,   and  grants  it  only  to  nations 


that  are  strangers  to  the  faith."  Immediately  there 
was  a  great  uproar :  the  Spaniards,  above  all,  were 
beside  themselves.  "The  wretches  that  have  endea- 
voured to  mislead  so  young  a  prince,"  said  they,  "  de- 
serve to  be  hung  on  the  first  tree  by  the  wayside  1" 
Charles  swore,  in  fact,  that  the  bearer  should  suffer 
the  penalty  of  his  audacity. 

At  length,  on  the  12th  October,  Alexander  Schweiss, 
imperial  secretary,  transmitted  the  emperor's  reply  to 
the  deputies.  It  said  that  the  minority  ought  to  sub- 
mit to  the  decrees  passed  in  diet,  and  that  if  the  Duke 
of  Saxony  and  his  allies  were  contumacious,  means 
would  not  be  wanting  to  compel  them. 

Upon  this  Ehinger  and  Caden  read  .aloud  the  appeal 
to  the  emperor  drawn  up  at  Spires,  whilst  Frauentraut, 
who  had  renounced  his  quality  of  deputy,  and  assumed 
that  of  a  notary,  took  notes  of  what  was  passing. 
When  the  reading  was  iinished,  the  deputies  advanced 
towards  Schweiss,  and  presented  the  appeal.  The 
imperial  secretary  rejected  the  document  with  amaze- 
ment ;  the  deputies  insisted ;  Schweiss  continued  firm. 
They  then  laid  the  appeal  on  the  table.  Schweiss  was 
staggered ;  he  took  the  paper,  and  carried  it  to  the 
emperor. 

After  dinner,  just  as  one  of  the  deputies  (Caden) 
had  gone  out,  a  tumult  in  the  hotel  announced  some 
catastrophe.  It  was  the  imperial  secretary  who  re- 
turned duly  accompanied.  "  The  emperor  is  exceed- 
ingly imtated  against  you  on  account  of  this  appeal," 
said  he  to  the  Protestants ;  "  and  he  forbids  you,  under 
pain  of  confiscation  and  death,  to  leave  your  hotel,  to 
write  to  Germany,  or  to  send  auy  message  whatsoever." 
Thus  Charles  put  ambassadors  under  arrest,  as  he 
would  the  officers  of  his  guard,  desirous  in  this  manner 
of  shewing  his  contempt,  and  of  frightening  the  princes. 

Caden's  servant  slipped  in  alarm  out  of  the  hotel, 
and  ran  to  his  master.  The  latter,  still  considering 
himself  free,  wrote  a  hasty  account  of  the  whole  busi- 
ness to  the  senate  of  Nuremberg,  sent  off  his  letters  by 
express,  and  returned  to  share  in  the  arrest  of  his 
colleagues. 

On  the  23d  of  October,  the  emperor  left  Piacenza, 
carrying  the  three  Germans  with  him.  But  on  the 
30th  he  released  Ehinger  and  Frauentraut,  who, 
mounting  their  horses  in  the  middle  of  the  night, 
rushed  at  full  speed  along  a  route  thronged  with 
soldiers  and  robbers.  "  As  for  you,"  said  Granvelle 
to  Caden,  "you  will  stay  under  pain  of  death.  The 
emperor  expects  that  the  book  you  presented  to  him 
will  be  given  to  the  pope."  Perliaps  Charles  thought 
it  pleasant  to  shew  the  Roman  pontiff  this  prohibition 
issued  against  the  ministers  of  God  to  mingle  in  the 
government  of  nations.  But  Caden,  profiting  by  the 
confusion  of  the  court,  secretly  procured  a  horse,  and 
fled  to  Ferrara,  thence  to  Venice,  from  which  place  he 
returned  to  Nuremberg. 

The  more  Charles  appeared  iiritated  against  Ger- 
many, the  greater  moderation  he  shewed  towards  the 
Italians ;  heavy  pecuniary  contributions  were  all  that 
he  required.  It  was  beyond  the  Alps,  in  the  centre  of 
Christendom,  by  means  of  these  very  religious  contro- 
versies, that  he  desired  to  establish  his  power.  He 
pressed  on,  and  required  only  two  things  :  behind  him 
— ^peace  ;  with  him — money. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


On  the  5th  of  November  he  entered  Bologna.  Every- 
thing was  striking  about  him:  the  crowd  of  nobles,  the 
splendour  of  the  equipages,  the  haughtiness  of  the 
Spanisli  troops,  the  four  thousand  ducats  that  were 
scattered  by  handfuls  among  tlie  people  ;  but  above  all, 
the  majesty  and  magnificence  of  the  young  emperor. 
The  two  chiefs  of  Romish  Christendom  were  about  to 
meet.  The  pope  quitted  his  palace  with  all  his  court ; 
and  Charles,  at  the  head  of  an  army  which  would  have 
conquered  the  whole  of  Italy  in  a  few  days,  affecting 
the  humility  of  a  child,  feU  on  his  knees,  and  kissed 
the  pontiff's  feet. 

The  emperor  and  the  pope  resided  at  Bologna  in  two 
adjoining  palaces,  separated  by  a  single  wall,  througii 
which  a  doorway  had  been  opened,  of  which  each  had 
a  key;  and  the  young  and  politic  emperor  was  often 
seen  visiting  the  old  and  crafty  pontiff,  carrying  papers 
in  his  hand. 

Clement  obtained  Sforza's  forgiveness,  who  appeared 
before  the  emperor,  sick  and  leaning  on  a  staff.  Venice 
also  was  forgiven  :  a  million  of  crowns  arranged  these 
two  matters.  But  Charles  could  not  obtain  from  the 
pope  the  pardon  of  Florence.  That  illustrious  city 
was  sacrificed  to  the  Medici,  "considering,"  it  was 
said,  "  that  it  was  impossible  for  Christ's  vicar  to 
demand  anything  that  is  unjust." 

The  most  important  affair  was  the  Reformation. 
Some  represented  to  the  emperor  that,  victor  over  all 
his  enemies,  he  should  caiTy  matters  with  a  high  hand, 
and  constrain  the  Protestants  by  force  of  arms.  Charles 
was  more  moderate,  he  preferred  weakening  the  Pro- 
testants by  the  Papists,  and  then  the  Papists  by  the 
Protestants,  and  by  this  means  raising  his  power  above 
them  both. 

A  wiser  course  was,  nevertheless,  proposed  in  a  so- 
lemn conference.  "The  Church  is  torn  in  pieces," 
said  Chancellor  Gattinara.  "You  (Charles)  are  the 
head  of  the  empire ;  you  (the  pope)  the  head  of  the 
Church.  It  is  your  duty  to  provide,  by  common  accord, 
against  unprecedented  wants.  Assemble  the  pious  men 
of  all  nations,  and  let  a  free  council  deduce  from  the 
Word  of  God  a  scheme  of  doctrine  such  as  may  be 
received  by  every  people." 

A  thunderbolt  falling  at  Clement's  feet  could  not 
have  startled  him  more.  The  offspring  of  an  illegiti- 
mate union,  and  having  obtained  the  papacy  by  means 
far  from  honourable,  and  squandered  the  treasures  of 
the  Church  in  an  unjust  war,  this  pontiff  had  a  thou- 
sand personal  motives  for  dreading  an  assembly  of 
Christendom.  "Large  congregations,"  replied  he, 
"  serve  only  to  introduce  popular  opinions.  It  is  not 
by  the  decrees  of  councils,  but  with  the  edge  of  the 
sword,  that  we  should  decide  controversies." 

As  Gattinara  still  persisted  :  "  What !"  said  the  pope, 
angrily  interrupting  him,  "you  dare  contradict  me,  and 
excite  your  master  against  me !"  Charles  rose  up ;  all 
the  assembly  preserved  profound  silence,  and  the 
prince  resuming  his  seat,  seconded  his  chancellor's 
request.  Clement  was  content  to  say  that  he  would 
reflect  upon  it.  He  then  began  to  work  upon  the 
young  emperor  in  their  private  conferences,  and 
Charles  promised  at  last  to  constrain  the  heretics 
by  violence,  while  the  pope  should  summon  all  other 
princes  to  hLs  aid.     "  To  overcome  Germany  by  force, 


and  then  erase  it  from  the  surface  of  the  earth,  is  the 
sole  object  of  the  Italians,"  they  wrote  from  Venice  to 
the  elector. 

Such  was  the  sinister  news  which,  by  spread- 
ing alarm  among  the  Protestants,  should  also  have 
united  them.  Unfortunately,  a  contrary  movement 
was  then  taking  place.  Luther  and  some  of  his 
friends  had  revised  the  Marburg  articles  in  a  sense 
exclusively  Lutheran,  and  the  ministers  of  the  Elector 
of  Saxony  had  presented  them  to  the  conference  at 
Schwabach.  The  reformed  deputies  from  Ulm  and 
Strasburg  had  immediately  withdrawn,  and  the  con- 
ference was  broken  up. 

But  new  conferences  had  erelong  become  necessary. 
The  express  that  Caden  had  forwarded  from  Piacenza 
had  reached  Nuremberg.  Every  one  in  Germany 
understood  that  the  arrest  of  the  princes'  deputies 
was  a  declaration  of  war.  The  elector  was  staggered, 
and  ordered  his  chancellor  to  consult  the  theologians 
of  Wittemberg. 

"  We  cannot  on  our  conscience,"  replied  Luther,  on 
the  18th  November,  "  approve  of  the  proposed  alliance. 
We  would  rather  die  ten  times  than  see  our  Gospel 
cause  one  drop  of  blood  to  be  shed.  Our  part  is  to  be 
like  lambs  of  the  slaughter.  The  cross  of  Christ  must 
be  borne.  Let  your  highness  be  without  fear.  We 
shall  do  more  by  our  prayers  than  all  our  enemies  by 
their  boastings.  Only  let  not  your  hands  be  stained 
with  the  blood  of  your  brethren !  If  the  emperor 
requu-es  us  to  be  given  up  to  his  tribunals,  we  are 
ready  to  appear.  Y'ou  cannot  defend  our  faith  :  eacli 
one  should  believe  at  his  own  risk  and  peril." 

On  the  29th  November  an  evangelical  congress  was 
opened  at  Smalkald,  and  an  unexpected  event  rendered 
this  meeting  stiU  more  important.  Ehinger,  Caden, 
and  Frauentraut,  who  had  escaped  from  the  grasp  of 
Charles  V.,  appeared  before  them.  The  landgrave 
had  no  further  doubts  of  the  success  of  his  plan. 

He  was  deceived.  No  agreement  between  contrary 
doctrines,  no  alliance  between  politics  and  religions- 
were  Luther's  two  principles,  and  they  still  prevailed. 
It  was  agreed  that  those  who  felt  disposed  to  sign  the 
articles  of  Schwabach,  and  those  only,  should  meet  at 
Nuremberg  on  the  6th  of  January. 

The  horizon  became  hourly  more  threatening.  The 
Papists  of  Germany  wrote  one  to  another  these  few 
but  significant  words :  "  The  Saviour  is  coming." 
"Alas!"  exclaimed  Luther,  "what  a  pitiless  saviour  1 
He  will  devour  them  all,  as  well  as  us."  In  effect, 
two  Italian  bishops,  authorized  by  Charles  V.,  de- 
manded in  the  pope's  name  aU  the  gold  and  silver 
from  the  churches,  and  a  thu-d  part  of  the  ecclesiasti- 
cal revenues :  a  proceeding  which  caused  an  immense 
sensation.  "Let  the  pope  go  to  the  devil,"  replied  a 
canon  of  Paderborn,  a  little  too  freely.  "  Yes,  yes  !" 
archly  replied  Luther,  "this  is  your  saviour  that  is 
coming !"  The  people  already  began  to  talk  of  fright- 
ful omens.  It  was  not  only  the  living  who  were 
agitated:  a  child  still  in  its  mother's  womb  had  uttered 
horrible  shrieks.  "  All  is  accomplished,"  said  Luther ; 
"  the  Turk  has  reached  the  highest  degree  of  his  power, 
the  glory  of  the  papacy  is  declining,  and  the  world  is 
spUtting  on  every  side."  The  refoi  m  t,  dreading  lest 
the  end  of  the  world  should  arrive  before  he  had  trans- 


CORONATION  OF  CHARLES  V. 


latcd  all  the  Bible,  published  the  prophecies  of  Daniel 
eeparntoly, — "  a  work,"  said  he,  "for  these  latter  times." 
"Historians  tell  us,"  he  added,  "that  Alexander  the 
Great  always  placed  Homer  inidcr  his  pillow :  the 
prophet  Daniel  is  worthy  not  only  that  kings  and 
princes  should  lay  him  under  their  heads,  but  carry 
him  in  their  hearts ;  for  he  will  teach  them  that  the 
government  of  nations  proceeds  from  the  power  of 
God.  We  arc  balanced  in  the  hand  of  the  Lord,  as  a 
sliip  upon  the  sea,  or  a  cloud  in  the  sky." 

Yet  the  frightful  ])hantom  that  Philip  of  Hesse  had 
not  ceased  to  point  out  to  his  allies,  and  wiiose  threat- 
ening jaws  seemed  already  opening,  suddenly  vanished, 
and  they  discovered  la  its  place  the  graceful  image  of 
the  most  amiable  of  princes. 

On  the  21st  January,  Charles  had  summoned  all  the 
states  of  the  empire  to  Augsburg,  and  had  endeavoured 
to  employ  the  most  conciliatory  language.  "Let  us 
put  an  end  to  all  discord,"  he  said,  "  let  us  renounce 
our  antipathies,  let  us  offer  to  our  Saviour  the  sacrifice 
of  all  our  errors,  let  us  make  it  our  business  to  com- 
prehend and  weigh  with  meekness  the  opinions  of 
others.  Let  us  annihilate  all  that  has  been  said  or 
done  on  both  sides  contrary  to  right,  and  let  us  seek 
after  Christian  truth.  Let  us  all  fight  under  one  and 
the  same  leader,  Jesus  Christ,  and  let  us  strive  thus  to 
meet  in  one  communion,  one  church,  and  one  unity." 

What  language  !  How  was  it  that  this  j)rince,  who 
liitherto  had  spoken  only  of  the  sword,  sliould  now 
speak  only  of  peace  ?  Some  may  say  that  the  wise 
Gattiuara  had  a  share  in  it ;  that  the  act  of  convoca- 
tion was  drawn  up  under  the  impression  of  the  terror 
caused  by  the  Turkish  invasion ;  that  the  emperor 
already  saw  with  how  little  eagerness  the  Roman 
Catholics  of  Germany  seconded  his  views ;  that  he 
wished  to  intimidate  the  pope ;  that  this  language,  so 
full  of  graciousness,  was  but  a  mask  which  Charles 
employed  to  deceive  his  enemies ;  that  he  wished  to 
manage  religion  in  true  imperial  fashion,  like  Theodo- 
sius  and  Constantine,  and  seek  first  to  unite  both  par- 
ties by  the  influence  of  his  wisdom  and  of  his  favours, 
reserving  to  himself,  if  kindness  should  fail,  to  employ 
force  afterwards.  It  is  possible  that  each  of  these 
motives  may  have  exercised  a  certain  influence  on 
Charles,  but  the  latter  appears  to  us  nearer  the  truth, 
and  more  conformable  to  the  character  of  this  prince. 

If  Charles,  however,  shewed  any  inclination  to  mild- 
ness, the  fanatical  Ferdinand  was  at  hand  to  bring  him 
back.  "  I  will  continue  negotiating  without  coming  to 
any  conclusion,"  wrote  he  to  his  brother ;  "  and  should 
I  even  be  reduced  to  that,  do  not  fear ;  pretexts  will 
not  be  wanting  to  chastise  these  rebels,  and  you  will 
find  men  enough  who  will  be  happy  to  aid  you  in  your 


CHAPTER  II. 

Tlio  Coronation— The  Emperor  made  a  Deacon— The  Romish  Church  and 
the  State— Alarm  of  tlie  Protestants— Luther  Advocates  Tassive  Besist- 
ance— Brucli's  Noble  Advice— Articles  of  Faith  Prepared— Luther's 
Strong  Tower— Luther  at  Coburg— Charles  at  Innspruck— Two  Parties 
at  Court— Gattinara— The  King  of  Denmark  won  over  by  Charles— Piety 
of  the  Elector— Wiles  of  the  Romanists. 

Chaju,es,  like  Charlemagne  in  former  times,  and  Na- 


poleon in  later  days,  desired  to  bo  crowned  by  the  pope, 
and  had  at  first  thouglit  of  visiting  Rome  for  that 
purpose;  but  Ferdinand's  pressing  letters  compelled 
him  to  choose  Bologna.  He  ajjpointcd  the  22d  Feb- 
ruary for  receiving  the  iron  crown,  as  king  of  Lom- 
bardy,  and  resolved  to  assume  the  golden  crown,  as 
emperor  of  the  Romans,  on  the  21th  of  the  same 
month, — his  birthday,  and  the  anniversary  of  the 
battle  of  Pavia,  and  which  he  thought  was  always 
fortunate  to  him. 

The  offices  of  honour  that  belonged  to  the  electors  of 
the  empire  were  given  to  strangers ;  in  the  coronation 
of  the  Emperor  of  Germany  all  was  Spanish  or  Italian. 
The  sceptre  was  carried  by  the  Marquis  of  Montferrat, 
the  sword  by  tlie  Duke  of  Urbino,  and  the  golden 
crown  by  the  Duke  of  Savoy.  One  single  German 
prince  of  little  importance,  the  Count-palatine  Philip, 
was  present:  he  carried  the  orb.  After  these  lords 
came  the  emperor  himself  between  two  cardinals;  then 
the  members  of  his  council.  All  this  procession  defiled 
across  a  magnificent  temporary  bridge  erected  between 
the  palace  and  the  church.  At  the  very  moment  the 
emperor  drew  near  the  church  of  San  Pctronio,  where 
the  coronation  was  to  take  place,  the  scaffolding  cracked 
behind  him  and  gave  way:  many  of  his  train  were 
wounded,  and  the  multitude  fled  in  alarm.  Charles 
calmly  turned  back  and  smiled,  not  doubting  that  his 
lucky  star  had  saved  him. 

At  length  Charles  V.  arrived  in  front  of  the  throne 
on  which  Clement  was  seated.  But  before  being 
made  emperor,  it  was  necessary  that  he  should  be  pro- 
moted to  the  sacred  orders.  The  pope  presented  him 
with  the  surplice  and  the  amice  to  make  him  a  canon 
of  St.  Peter's  and  of  St.  John  Lateranus ;  and  the 
canons  of  these  two  churches  immediately  stripped  him 
of  his  I'oyal  ornaments,  and  robed  him  with  the  sacer- 
dotal garments.  The  pope  went  to  the  altar  and  began 
mass,  the  new  canon  drawing  near  to  wait  upon  him. 
After  the  offertory,  the  imperial  deacon  presented  the 
water  to  the  pontiff ;  and  then  kneeling  down  between 
two  cardinals,  he  communicated  from  the  pope's  hand. 
The  emperor  now  returned  to  his  throne,  where  the 
princes  robed  him  with  the  imperial  mantle  brought 
from  Constantinople,  all  sparkling  with  diamonds, 
and  Charles  humbly  bent  the  knee  before  Clement 
VII. 

The  pontiff,  having  anointed  him  with  oil  and  given 
him  the  sceptre,  presented  him  with  a  naked  sword, 
saying:  "Make  use  of  it  in  defence  of  the  Chm-ch 
against  the  enemies  of  the  faith!"  Next  taking  the 
golden  orb,  studded  with  jewels,  which  the  count- 
palatine  held,  he  said :  "  Govern  the  world  with  piety 
and  firmness ! "  Last  came  the  Duke  of  Savoy,  who 
carried  the  golden  crown  enriched  with  diamonds.  The 
prince  bent  down,  and  Clement  put  the  diadem  on  his 
head,  saying :  "  Charles,  emperor  invincible,  receive 
this  crown  which  we  place  on  your  head  as  a  sign  to 
all  the  earth  of  the  authority  that  is  conferred  upon 
you." 

The  emperor  then  kissed  the  white  cross  embroidered 
on  the  pope's  red  slipper,  and  exclaimed:  "I  swear  to 
be,  with  all  my  powers  and  resources,  the  perpetual 
defender  of  the  pontifical  dignity  and  of  the  Church  of 


444 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


The  two  princes  now  took  their  seats  under  the  same 
canopy,  but  on  tlirones  of  unequal  height,  the  emperor's 
being  half  a  foot  lower  than  the  pontiff's,  and  the 
cardinal-deacon  proclaimed  to  the  people  "The  in- 
vincible emperor,  Defender  of  the  Faith."  For  the 
next  half-hour  nothing  was  heard  but  the  noise  of  mus- 
ketry, trumpets,  drums,  and  fifes,  all  the  bells  of  the 
city,  and  the  shouts  of  the  multitude.  Thus  was  pro- 
claimed anew  the  close  union  of  politics  with  religion. 
The  mighty  emperor,  transformed  to  a  Roman  deacon, 
and  humbly  serving  mass,  like  a  canon  of  St.  Peter's, 
had  typified  and  declared  the  indissoluble  union  of  the 
Romish  Church  with  the  State.  This  is  one  of  the 
essential  doctrines  of  Popery,  and  one  of  the  most 
striking  characteristics  that  distinguish  it  from  the 
evangelical  and  the  Christian  Church. 

Nevertheless,  during  the  whole  of  the  ceremony,  the 
pope  seemed  ill  at  ease,  and  sighed  as  soon  as  men's 
eyes  ceased  to  gaze  on  him.  Accordingly,  the  French 
ambassador  ivrote  to  his  court  that  these  four  months 
which  the  emperor  and  pope  had  spent  together  at 
Bologna,  would  bear  fruit  of  which  the  King  of  France 
would  assuredly  have  no  cause  to  complain. 

Scarcely  had  Charles  V.  risen  from  before  the  altar 
of  Saa  Petronio,  ere  he  turned  his  face  towards  Ger- 
many, and  appeared  on  the  Alps  as  the  anointed  of  the 
Papacy.  The  letter  of  convocation,  so  indulgent  and 
benign,  seemed  forgotten :  all  things  were  made  new 
since  the  pope's  blessings :  there  was  but  one  thought 
in  the  imperial  train,  the  necessity  of  rigorous  mea- 
sures ;  and  the  legate  Campeggio  ceased  not  to  in- 
sinuate irritating  words  into  Charles's  ear.  "At  the 
first  rumour  of  the  storm  that  threatens  them,"  said 
Granvelle,  "we  shall  see  the  Protestants  fiying  on 
every  side,  like  timid  doves  upon  which  the  Alj^ine 
eagle  pounces." 

Great  indeed  was  the  alarm  throughout  the  empire ; 
already  even  the  affrighted  people,  apprehensive  of  tlie 
greatest  disasters,  repeated  everywhere  that  Luther  and 
Melancthon  were  dead.  "  Alas  ! "  said  Melancthon, 
consumed  by  sorrow,  when  he  heard  these  reports, 
"  the  rumour  is  but  too  true,  for  I  die  daily."  But 
Luther,  on  the  contrary,  boldly  raising  the  eye  of 
faith  towards  heaven,  exclaimed :  "  Our  enemies 
triumph,  but  erelong  to  perish."  In  truth,  the  councils 
of  the  elector  displayed  an  unprecedented  boldness. 
"Let  us  collect  our  troops,"  said  they;  "let  us  march 
on  the  Tyrol,  and  close  the  passage  of  the  Alps  against 
the  emperor."  Philip  of  Hesse  uttered  a  cry  of  joy 
when  he  heard  of  this.  The  sword  of  Charles  had 
aroused  his  indolent  allies  at  last.  Immediately  fresh 
couriers  from  Ferdinand  were  sent  to  hasten  the 
arrival  of  Charles,  and  all  Germany  was  in  expecta- 
tion. 

Before  carrying  out  this  gigantic  design,  the  elector 
desired  to  consult  Luther  once  more.  The  emperor  in 
the  midst  of  the  electors  was  only  the  first  among  his 
equals  ;  and  independent  princes  were  allowed  to  resist 
another  prince,  even  if  he  were  of  higher  rank  than 
themselves.  But  Luther,  dreading  above  all  things  the 
intervention  of  the  secular  arm  in  Church  affairs,  was 
led  to  reply,  on  the  6th  March,  in  this  extraordinary 
manner :  "  Our  prince's  subjects  are  also  the  emperor's 
subjects,  and  even  more  so  than  princes  are.     To  pro- 


tect by  arms  the  emperor's  subjects  against  the  emperor, 
would  be  as  if  the  burgomaster  of  Torgau  wished  to 
protect  by  force  his  citizens  against  the  elector." 

"What  must  be  done  then?" — "Listen,"  replied 
Luther.  "  If  the  emperor  desires  to  march  against  us, 
let  no  prince  undertake  our  defence.  God  is  faithful : 
He  will  not  abandon  us."  All  preparations  for  war 
were  immediately  suspended,  the  landgrave  received  a 
polite  refusal,  and  the  confederation  was  dissolved.  It 
was  the  will  of  God  that  His  cause  should  appear  be- 
fore the  emperor  without  league  and  without  soldiers, 
having  faith  alone  for  its  shield. 

Never,  perhaps,  has  such  boldness  been  witnessed  in 
feeble  and  unarmed  men;  but  never,  although  under 
an  appearance  of  blindness,  was  there  so  much  wisdom 
and  understanding. 

The  question  next  discussed  in  the  elector's  council 
was,  whether  he  should  go  to  the  diet.  The  majority 
of  the  councillors  opposed  it.  "Is  it  not  risking  every- 
thing," said  they,  "  to  go  and  shut  oneself  up  within 
the  walls  of  a  city  with  a  powerful  enemy?"  Bruck 
and  the  prince-electoral  were  of  a  different  opinion. 
Duty,  in  their  eyes,  was  a  better  councillor  than  fear. 
"  What ! "  said  they,  "  would  the  emperor  insist  so 
much  on  the  presence  of  the  princes  at  Augsburg  only 
to  draw  them  into  a  snare  ?  We  cannot  impute  such 
perfidy  to  him."  The  landgrave,  on  the  contrary, 
seconded  the  opinion  of  the  majority.  "  Remember 
Piacenza,"  said  he.  "  Some  unfortunate  circumstance 
may  lead  the  emperor  to  take  aU  his  enemies  in  one 
cast  of  the  net." 

The  chancellor  stood  firm.  "  Let  the  princes  only 
comport  themselves  with  courage,"  said  he,  "  aud 
God's  cause  is  saved."  The  decision  was  in  favour  of 
the  nobler  plan. 

This  diet  was  to  be  a  lay  council,  or  at  the  very  least 
a  national  convention.  The  Protestants  foresaw  that 
a  few  unimportant  concessions  would  be  made  to  them 
at  first,  aud  then  that  they  would  be  required  to  sacri- 
fice their  faith.  It  was  therefore  necessary  to  settle 
what  were  the  essential  articles  of  Christian  truth,  in 
order  to  know  whether,  by  what  means,  and  how  far 
they  might  come  to  an  understanding  with  their  adver- 
saries. The  elector  accordingly  had  letters  sent,  on  the 
14th  March,  to  the  four  principal  theologians  of  Wit- 
temberg,  setting  them  this  task  before  all  other  busi- 
ness. Thus,  instead  of  collecting  soldiers,  this  prince 
drew  up  articles  :  they  were  the  best  armament. 

Luther,  Jonas,  and  Melancthon,  (Pomeranus  remain- 
ing at  Wittemberg,)  arrived  at  Torgau  in  Easter  week, 
asking  leave  to  deliver  their  articles  in  person  to 
Chai-les  the  Fifth.  "  God  forbid ! "  replied  the  elector ; 
"I  also  desire  to  confess  my  Lord." 

John  having  then  confided  to  Melancthon  the  defini- 
tive arrangement  of  the  confession,  and  ordered  general 
prayers  to  be  offered  up,  began  his  joiu-ney  on  the  3<1 
April,  with  one  hundred  and  sixty  horsemen,  clad  in 
rich  scarlet  cloaks  embroidered  with  gold. 

Every  man  was  aware  of  the  dangers  that  threatened 
the  elector,  and  hence  many  in  his  escort  marched  with 
downcast  eyes  and  sinking  hearts.  But  Luther,  full 
of  faith,  revived  the  courage  of  his  friends,  by  compos- 
ing and  singing  with  his  fine  voice  that  beautiful  hymn, 
since   become  so  famous :    EM  fiste  Burg  ist  unser 


LUTHER  AT  COBURG-CHARLES  AT  INNSPRUCK. 


Qotte — Our  God  is  a  strong  tower. '  Never  did  soul  that 
knew  his  own  weakness,  but  which,  looking  to  God, 
despised  every  fear,  liud  such  noble  accents  : — 

With  our  own  strength  wo  nought  can  do, 

Destruction  yawns  on  every  aide : 
He  lliihts  for  ua,  our  champion  true, 

Eleit  of  Ood  to  bfl  our  guide. 
What  ia  Hia  namot— Tlio  anoinUd  One, 

Tho  God  of  armiea  lie ; 
Of  cartb  and  heaven  tho  Lord  alono — 
Willi  Him,  on  Held  of  iMttlo  won, 
AbideUi  victory. 

This  hymn  was  sung  during  the  diet,  not  only  at 
Augsburg,  but  in  all  the  churches  of  Saxony,  and  its 
energetic  strains  were  often  seen  to  revive  and  inspirit 
the  most  dejected  minds. 

On  Easter-eve  the  troop  reached  Coburg,  and  on  the 
23d  April  the  elector  resumed  his  journey;  but  at  tho 
very  moment  of  departure  Luther  received  an  order  to 
remain.  "Some  one  has  said,  'Hold  your  tongue,  you 
have  a  harsh  voice,' "  wrote  he  to  a  friend,  lie  sub- 
mitted, however,  without  hesitation,  setting  an  example 
of  that  passive  obedience  which  he  so  boldly  advocated. 
The  elector  feared  that  Luther's  presence  would  still 
further  exasperate  his  adversaries,  and  drive  Charles 
to  extreme  measures :  tho  city  of  Augsburg  had  also 
>\Titten  to  him  to  that  effect.  But  at  the  same  time 
John  was  anxious  to  keep  the  reformer  within  reach, 
that  he  might  be  able  to  consult  him.  IIo  w;\s  there- 
fore left  at  Coburg,  in  the  castle  overlooking  the  town 
and  the  river  Itz,  in  the  upper  story  on  the  south  side. 
It  was  from  this  place  he  wrote  those  numerous  letters 
dated  from  the  region  of  birds ;  and  it  was  there  that 
for  many  months  he  had  to  maintain  with  his  old 
enemy  of  the  Wartburg,  Satan,  a  struggle  full  of  dark- 
ness and  of  anguish. 

On  tho  2d  May  the  elector  reached  Augsburg:  it 
had  been  expected  that  he  would  stay  away,  and  to 
tiie  great  astonishment  of  all,  he  was  the  first  at  the 
rendezvous.  He  immediately  sent  Dolzig,  marshal  of 
the  court,  to  meet  the  emperor  and  to  compliment  him. 
On  the  12th  May,  Philip  of  Hesse,  who  had  at  last 
resolved  on  not  separating  himself  from  his  ally,  arrived 
with  an  escort  of  one  hundred  and  ninety  horsemen ; 
and  almost  at  the  same  time  the  emperor  entered  Inn- 
spruck,  in  the  Tyrol,  accompanied  by  his  brother,  the 
queens  of  Hungary  and  Bohemia,  the  ambassadors  of 
France,  England,  and  Portugal,  Campeggio  the  papal 
legate,  and  other  cardinals,  with  many  princes  and 
nobles  of  Germany,  Spain,  and  Italy. 

How  to  bring  back  the  heretics  to  obedience  to  the 
Church,  was  the  great  topic  of  conversation  in  this 
brilliant  court,  among  nobles  and  priests,  ladies  and 
soldiei-s,  councillors  and  ambassadors.  Tiiey,  or  Charles 
at  least,  were  not  for  making  them  ascend  the  scaffold ; 
but  tiicy  wished  to  act  in  such  a  manner  that,  un- 
true to  their  faith,  they  should  bend  the  knee  to 
tlie  pope.  Charles  stopped  at  Innspruck  to  study  the 
situation  of  Germany,  and  ensure  the  success  of  liis 
schemes. 

Scarcely  was  his  arrival  known   ere   a  crowd  of 

people,  high  and  low,  flocked  round  him  on  every  side, 

and  more  than  270,000  crowns,  previously  raised  in 

1  Wc  have  attempted  a  very  fe'^lile  translation  of  the  second  stanza. 


Italy,  served  to  make  the  Germans  understand  the 
justice  of  Rome's  cause.  "All  these  heretics,"  was 
the  cry,  "  will  fall  to  the  ground  and  crawl  to  the  feet 
of  the  pope." 

Charles  did  not  think  so.  He  was,  on  the  contrary, 
astonished  to  see  what  power  the  Reformation  had 
gained.  He  momentarily  even  entertained  the  idea  of 
leaving  Augsburg  alone,  and  of  going  straight  to 
Cologne,  and  there  proclaiming  his  brother  king  of  tho 
Romans.  Thus,  religious  interests  would  have  given 
way  to  dynastic  interests, — at  least  so  ran  the  report. 
But  Charles  the  Fifth  did  not  stop  at  this  idea.  The 
question  of  the  Reformation  was  there  before  him, 
increasing  hourly  in  strength,  and  it  could  not  be 
eluded. 

Two  parties  divided  the  imperial  court.  The  one, 
numerous  and  active,  called  upon  the  emperor  to  revive 
simply  the  edict  of  Worms,  and,  without  hearing  the 
Protestants,  condemn  their  cause.  The  legate  was  at 
the  head  of  this  party.  "  Do  not  hesitate,"  said  he  to 
Charles ;  "  confiscate  their  property,  establish  the  in- 
quisition, and  punish  these  obstinate  heretics  with  fire 
and  sword."  The  Spaniards,  who  strongly  seconded 
these  exhortations,  gave  way  to  their  accustomed  de- 
bauchery, and  many  of  them  were  arrested  for  seduc- 
tion. This  was  a  sad  specimen  of  the  faith  they 
wished  to  impose  on  Germany.  Rome  has  always 
thought  lightly  of  morality. 

Gattinara,  although  sick,  had  painfully  followed  in 
Charles's  train  to  neutralize  the  influence  of  the  legate. 
A  determined  adversary  of  the  Roman  policy,  he 
thought  that  the  Protestants  might  render  important 
services  to  Christendom.  "  There  is  nothing  I  desire 
so  much,"  said  he,  "  as  to  see  the  Elector  of  Saxony 
and  his  allies  persevere  courageously  in  the  profession 
of  the  Gospel,  and  call  for  a  free  religious  council.  If 
they  allow  themselves  to  be  checked  by  promises  or 
threats,  I  hesitate  myself,  I  stagger,  and  I  doubt  of  the 
means  of  salvation."  The  enlightened  and  honest 
members  of  the  Papal  Church  (and  of  whom  there 
is  always  a  small  number)  necessarily  sympathize  with  | 
the  Reformation. 

Charles  V.,  exposed  to  these  contrary  influences, 
desired  to  restore  Germany  to  religious  unity  by  his 
personal  intervention :  for  a  moment  he  thought  him- 
self on  the  eve  of  success. 

Amongst  the  persons  who  crowded  to  Innspruck 
was  the  unfortunate  Christian,  king  of  Denmark, 
Charles's  brother-in-law.  In  vain  had  he  proposed 
to  his  subjects  undertaking  a  pilgrimage  to  Rome  in 
expiation  of  the  cruelties  of  which  he  was  accused  : 
his  people  had  expelled  him.  Having  repaired  to 
Saxony,  to  his  uncle  the  elector,  he  had  there  heard 
Luther,  and  had  embraced  the  evangelical  doctrines, 
as  far  at  least  as  external  profession  goes.  This  poor 
dethroned  monarch  could  not  resist  the  eloquence  of 
the  powerful  ruler  of  two  worlds,  and  Christian,  won 
over  by  Charles  the  Fifth,  publicly  placed  himself 
again  under  the  sceptre  of  the  Roman  hierarchy.  All 
the  papal  party  uttered  a  shout  of  triumph.  Nothing 
equals  their  credulity,  and  the  importance  they  attach 
to  such  valueless  accessions:  "I  cannot  describe  the 
emotion  with  which  this  news  has  filled  me,"  wrote 
Clement  VH.  to  Charles,  his  hand  trembling  with  joy; 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


"  the  brightness  of  your  majesty's  virtues  begins  at  last 
to  scatter  the  diU'kness  :  this  example  will  lead  to  num- 
berless conversions." 

Things  were  in  this  slate  when  Duke  George  of 
Saxony,  Duke  William  of  Bavaria,  and  the  Elector 
Joachim  of  Brandenburg,  tlie  three  German  princes 
who  were  tlie  greatest  enemies  to  the  Reformation, 
hastily  arrived  at  Innspruck. 

The  tranquility  of  the  elector,  whom  they  had  seen 
at  Augsburg,  had  alarmed  them,  for  they  knew  not  the 
source  whence  John  derived  his  courage :  they  fancied 
be  was  meditating  some  perfidious  design.  "  It  is  not 
without  reason,"  said  they  to  Charles,  "  that  the  Elector 
John  has  repaired  the  first  to  Augsburg,  and  that  he 
appeared  there  with  a  considerable  train :  he  wishes  to 
seize  your  person.  Act,  then,  with  energy,  and  allow 
us  to  offer  your  majesty  a  guard  of  six  tliousand  horse." 
Conference  upon  conference  immediately  took  place. 
Tlie  Protestants  were  affrighted.  "  They  are  holding 
a  diet  at  Innspruck,"  said  Melancthon,  "  on  the  best 
means  of  having  our  heads."  But  Gattinara  prevailed 
on  Charles  to  preserve  his  neutrality. 

While  this  agitation  prevailed  in  the  Tyi-ol,  the 
evangelical  Christians,  instead  of  mustering  in  arms,  as 
they  were  accused,  sent  up  their  prayers  to  heaven ; 
and  the  Protestant  princes  were  jsreparing  to  render 
an  account  of  their  faith. 

The  Elector  of  Saxony  held  the  first  rank  among 
them.  Sincere,  upright,  and  pure,  from  his  youth, 
early  disgusted  with  the  brilliant  tourneys  in  which  he 
had  at  first  taken  part,  John  of  Saxony  had  joyfuUy 
hailed  the  day  of  the  Reformation,  and  the  Gospel 
light  had  gradually  penetrated  his  serious  and  reflec- 
tive mind.  His  gi-eat  pleasure  was  to  have  the  Holy 
Scriptures  read  to  him  during  the  latter  hours  of  the 
day.  It  is  true  that,  having  arrived  at  an  advanced 
age,  the  pious  elector  sometimes  fell  asleep,  but  he  soon 
awoke  with  a  start,  and  repeated  the  last  passage 
aloud.  Although  moderate,  and  a  friend  of  peace,  he 
yet  possessed  an  energy  that  was  powerfully  aroused 
by  the  great  interests  of  the  faith.  There  is  no  prince 
in  the  sixteenth  century,  and  none,  perhaps,  since  the 
primitive  times  of  the  Church,  who  has  done  so  much 
as  John  of  Saxony  for  the  cause  of  the  Gospel.  Ac- 
cordingly, it  was  against  him  that  the  first  efforts  of 
the  Papists  were  directed. 

In  order  to  gain  him  over,  they  wished  to  put  in 
operation  very  different  tactics  from  those  which  had 
been  previously  employed.  At  Spires,  the  evangelicals 
had  met  with  angry  looks  in  every  quarter ;  at  Augs- 
burg, on  the  contrary,  the  Papists  gave  them  a  hearty 
welcome ;  they  represented  the  distance  that  separated 
the  two  parties  as  very  trifling,  and  in  their  private 
conversations  made  use  of  the  mildest  language,  "  seek- 
ing thus  to  entice  the  credulous  Protestants  to  take  the 
bait,"  says  an  historian.  The  latter  yielded  with  sim- 
plicity to  these  skilful  manoeuvres. 

Charles  the  Fifth  was  convinced  that  the  simple 
Germans  would  not  be  able  to  resist  his  star.  "  The 
King  of  Denmark  has  been  converted,"  said  his  cour- 
tiers to  him,  "why  should  not  the  elector  follow  his 
example?  Let  us  draw  him  into  the  imperial  atmos- 
phere." John  was  immediately  invited  to  come  and 
converse  familiarly  with  the  emperor  at    Innspruck, 


with  an  assurance  that  he  might  reckon  on  Charles's 
particular  favour. 

The  prince-electoral,  John  Frederick,  who  on  seeing 
the  advances  of  the  Papists  had  at  first  exclaimed : 
"  We  conduct  our  affairs  with  such  awkwardness,  that 
it  is  quite  pitiable ! "  allowed  himself  to  be  caught  by 
this  stratagem.  "  The  Papist  princes,"  said  he  to  his 
father,  "  exert  every  means  of  blackening  our  charac- 
ters. Go  to  Innspruck  in  order  to  put  a  stop  to  these 
underhand  practices ;  or  if  you  are  unwilling,  send  me 
in  your  place." 

This  time  the  prudent  elector  moderated  his  son's 
precipitancy,  and  replied  to  Charles's  ministers,  that  it 
was  not  proper  to  treat  of  the  affairs  of  the  diet  in  any 
other  place  than  that  which  the  emperor  had  himself 
appointed,  and  begged,  in  consequence,  that  his  majesty 
would  hasten  his  arrival.  This  was  the  first  check 
that  Charles  met  with. 


CHAPTER  ni. 

Atigstiurg— The  Gospel  Preached— The  Emperor'a  Message— The  Sermons 
Prohibited— Firmness  of  the  Elector— The  Elector's  Reply— Preparation 
of  the  Confession— Lather's  Sinai— His  Son  and  his  Father— Luther's 
Merriment— Luther's  Diet  at  Cohurg— Saxony,  a  Paradise  below— To 
the  Bishops— Travail  of  the  Church— Charles— The  Pope's  Letter- 
Melancthon  on  Fasting— The  Church,  the  Judge— The  Landgrave's 
Catholic  Spirit. 

Meantime  Augsburg  was  filling  more  and  more  every 
day.  Princes,  bishops,  deputies,  gentlemen,  cavaliers, 
soldiei-s  in  rich  uniforms,  entered  by  every  gate,  and 
thronged  the  streets,  the  public  places,  inns,  churches, 
and  palaces.  All  that  was  most  magnificent  in  Ger- 
many was  there  about  to  be  collected.  The  critical 
circumstances  in  which  the  empire  and  Christendom 
were  placed,  the  presence  of  Charles  V.,  and  his  kindly 
manners,  the  love  of  novelty,  of  grand  shows,  and  of 
lively  emotions,  tore  the  Germans  from  their  homes. 
All  those  who  had  great  interests  to  discuss,  without 
reckoning  a  crowd  of  idlers,  flocked  from  the  various 
provinces  of  the  empire,  and  hastily  made  their  way 
towards  this  illustrious  city. 

In  the  midst  of  the  crowd  the  elector  and  the  land- 
grave were  resolved  to  confess  Jesus  Christ,  and  to 
take  advantage  of  this  convocation  in  order  to  convert 
the  empire.  Scarcely  had  John  arrived  when  he  or- 
dered one  of  his  theologians  to  preach  daily,  with  open 
doors,  in  the  church  of  the  Dominicans.  On  Sunday, 
the  8th  May,  the  same  was  done  in  the  church  of  St. 
Catherine;  on  the  13th,  Philip  of  Hesse  opened  the 
gates  of  the  cathedral,  and  his  chaplain,  Snepff,  there 
proclaimed  the  Word  of  salvation  ;  and  on  tlie  follow- 
ing Sunday  (May  15)  this  prince  ordered  Cellarius, 
minister  of  Augsburg,  and  a  follower  of  Zwiugle,  to 
preach  in  the  same  temple.  Somewhat  later  the  land- 
grave firmly  settled  himself  in  the  church  of  St.  Ulrich, 
and  the  elector  in  that  of  St.  Catherine.  These  were 
the  two  positions  taken  up  by  these  illustrious  princes. 
Every  day  the  Gospel  was  preached  in  these  places  to 
an  immense  and  attentive  crowd. 

The  partisans  of  Rome  were  amazed.    They  expected 


THE  EMPEROR'S  MESSAGE. 


to  see  criminals  endeavouring  to  dissemble  tlieir  faults, 
and  they  met  with  confessors  of  Ciirist,  wilh  uplifted 
heads  and  words  of  ])ower.  Desirous  of  counterbalanc- 
ing these  sermons,  the  Bishop  of  Auf;sbnrg  ordered  his 
suffragan  and  liis  chaplain  to  ascend  liie  pnlpit.  But 
the  Romisli  priests  understood  better  how  to  say  mass 
than  to  preach  the  Gospel.  ''They  shout,  tlicy  bawl," 
said  sonic.  "They  arc  stupid  fellows,"  added  all  their 
hearers,  shrugging  their  shoulders. 

The  Romanists,  ashamed  of  their  own  priests,  began 
to  grow  angry,  and  unable  to  hold  their  ground  by 
preaching,  had  recourse  to  the  secular  power.  "The 
priests  are  setting  wondrous  machines  at  work  to  gain 
Cicsar's  mind,"  said  Melaucthon.  They  succeeded,  and 
Charles  made  known  his  displeasure  at  the  hardihood 
of  the  princes.  The  friends  of  the  pope  then  drew 
near  the  I'rotestants,  and  whispered  into  their  ears, 
'•  that  the  emperor,  victor  over  the  King  of  France 
and  the  Komnn  pontiff,  would  appear  in  Germany 
to  crush  all  the  Gospellers."  The  anxious  elector 
demanded  tlie  advice  of  his  theologians. 

Before  the  answer  was  ready,  Charles's  orders  ar- 
rived, brought  by  two  of  his  most  influential  ministei-s, 
the  counts  of  Nassau  and  of  Nuenar.  A  more  skilful 
choice  could  not  have  been  made.  These  two  nobles, 
although  devoted  to  Charles,  were  favourable  to  the 
Gospel,  which  they  professed  not  long  after.  The 
elector  was,  therefore,  fully  disposed  to  listen  to  their 
counsel. 

On  the  24th  May,  the  two  counts  delivered  their 
letters  to  John  of  Saxony,  and  declared  to  him  tlic 
emperor's  exceeding  grief  that  religious  controversies 
should  disturb  the  good  understanding  which  had  for 
so  many  years  united  the  houses  of  Saxony  and  Austria ; 
that  he  was  astonished  at  seeing  the  elector  oppose  au 
edict  (tliat  of  Worms)  which  had  been  unanimously 
j)assed  by  all  the  states  of  the  empire ;  and  that  the 
alliances  he  had  made  tended  to  tear  asunder  the  unity 
of  Germany,  and  might  inundate  it  with  blood.  They 
required  at  last  that  the  elector  would  immediately  put 
a  stop  to  the  evangelical  preachings,  and  added,  in  a 
confidential  tone,  that  they  trembled  at  the  tliought 
of  the  immediate  and  deplorable  consequences  which 
would  certainly  follow  the  elector's  refusal.  "This," 
said  they,  "  is  only  the  expression  of  our  own  personal 
sentiments."  It  was  a  diplomatic  manoeuvre,  the  em- 
peror having  enjoined  them  to  give  utterance  to  a  few 
threats,  but  solely  as  if  proceeding  from  themselves. 

The  elector  was  greatly  agitated.  "  If  his  majesty 
forbids  the  preaching  of  the  Gospel,"  exclaimed  he, 
"  I  shall  immediately  return  home."  He  waited,  how- 
ever, for  the  advice  of  his  theologians. 

Luther's  answer  was  ready  first.  "  The  emperor  is 
oiu-  master,"  said  he ;  "  the  town  and  all  that  is  in  it 
belong  to  him.  If  your  highness  should  give  orders  at 
Torgau  for  this  to  be  done,  and  for  that  to  be  left 
undone,  the  people  ought  not  to  resist.  I  should  pre- 
fer endeavouring  to  change  his  majesty's  decision  by 
humble  and  respectful  solicitation  ;  but  if  he  persists, 
might  makes  right ;  we  have  but  done  our  duty."  Thus 
spoke  the  man  who  has  often  been  represented  as  a 
rebel. 

Melaucthon  and  the  others  were  nearly  of  the  same 
opinion,  except  that  they  insisted  more  on  the  necessity 


of  representing  to  the  emperor,  "  that  in  their  sermons 
nothing  controversial  was  introduced,  but  they  were 
content  simply  to  teach  tlio  doctrine  of  Christ  the 
Saviour.  Let  us  beware,  above  all,"  continued  they, 
"  of  leaving  the  city.  Let  your  highness,  with  an  in- 
trepid heart,  confess  in  presence  of  his  majesty  by  what 
wonderful  ways  you  have  attained  to  a  right  under- 
standing of  the  truth,  and  do  not  allow  yourself  to  be 
alarmed  at  these  thunder-claps  that  fall  from  the  lips 
of  our  enemies."  To  confess  the  truth — such  was  the 
object  to  which,  according  to  the  reformers,  everything 
else  should  be  subordinate. 

Will  the  elector  yield  to  this  first  demand  of  Charles, 
and  thus  begin,  even  before  the  emperor's  arrival,  that 
list  of  sacrifices,  the  end  of  which  cannot  be  foreseen  ? 

No  one  in  Augsburg  was  firmer  than  John.  In  vain 
did  the  reformers  represent  that  they  were  in  the 
emperor's  city,  and  only  strangers ;  the  elector  shook 
his  head.  Melaucthon,  in  despair,  wrote  to  Luther: 
"Alas  !  how  untractable  is  our  old  man  !"  Neverthe- 
less he  again  returned  to  the  cliarge.  Fortunately 
there  was  an  intrepid  man  at  the  elector's  right  hand, 
the  chancellor  Bruck,  who,  feeling  convinced  that 
policy,  honour,  and  above  all,  duty,  bound  the  friends 
of  the  Reformation  to  resist  the  menaces  of  Charles, 
said  to  the  elector :  "The  emperor's  demand  is  but  a 
worthy  beginning  to  bring  about  the  definitive  abolition 
of  the  Gospel.  If  we  yield  at  present,  they  will  crush 
us  by  and  by.  Let  us,  therefore,  hiunbly  beg  his 
majesty  to  permit  the  continuance  of  the  sermons." 
Thus,  at  that  time,  a  statesman  stood  in  the  foremost 
rank  of  the  confessors  of  Jesus  Christ.  This  is  one  of 
the  characteristic  features  of  this  great  age,  and  it  must 
not  be  forgotten,  if  we  would  understand  its  history 
aright. 

On  the  31st  May,  the  elector  sent  his  answer  in 
writing  to  Charles's  ministers.  "It  is  not  true,"  it 
bore,  "  that  the  edict  of  Worms  was  approved  of  by 
the  six  electors.  How  could  the  elector,  my  brother, 
and  myself,  by  approving  it,  have  opposed  the  ever- 
lasting AVord  of  Almighty  God  1  Accordingly,  suc- 
ceeding diets  have  declared  this  edict  impossible  to 
be  executed.  As  for  the  relations  of  friendship  that  I 
have  formed,  their  only  aim  is  to  protect  me  against 
acts  of  violence.  Let  my  accusers  lay  before  the  eyes 
of  his  majesty  the  alliances  they  have  made;  I  am 
ready  to  produce  mine,  and  the  emperor  shall  decide 
between  us. — Finally,  as  to  the  demand  to  suspend  our 
preachings,  nothing  is  proclaimed  in  them  but  the 
glorious  truth  of  God,  and  never  was  it  so  necessary  to 
us.     We  cannot,  therefore,  do  without  it ! " 

This  reply  must  necessarily  hasten  the  arrival  of 
Charles ;  and  it  was  m-gent  they  should  be  prepared  to 
receive  him.  To  proclaim  their  belief,  and  then  be 
silent,  was  the  whole  plan  of  the  Protestant  campaign. 
A  confession  was  therefore  necessary.  One  man,  of 
small  stature,  frail,  timid,  and  in  great  alarm,  was 
commissioned  to  prepare  this  instrument  of  war. 
Philip  Melaucthon  worked  at  it  night  and  day:  he 
weighed  every  expression,  softened  it  down,  changed 
it,  and  then  frequently  returned  to  his  first  idea.  He 
was  wasting  away  his  strength ;  his  friends  trembled 
lest  he  should  die  over  his  task ;  and  Luther  enjoined 
him,  as  early  as   the   12th   of  May,  under  pain   of 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


anathema,  to  take  measures  for  the  preservation  of  "his 
little  body,"  and  not  "to  commit  suicide  for  the  love 
of  God."  "God  is  as  usefully  served  by  repose," 
added  he,  "  and,  indeed,  man  never  serves  Him  better 
than  by  keeping  himself  tranquil.  It  is  for  this  reason 
God  willed  that  the  Sabbath  should  be  so  strictly 
observed." 

Notwithstanding  these  solicitations,  Melancthon's 
application  augmented,  and  he  set  about  an  exposition 
of  the  Christian  faith,  at  once  mild,  moderate,  and  as 
little  removed  as  possible  from  the  doctrine  of  the 
Latin  Church.  At  Coburg  he  had  already  put  his 
hand  to  the  task,  and  traced  out,  in  the  first  part,  the 
doctrines  of  the  faith,  according  to  the  articles  of 
Schwabach ;  and  in  the  second,  the  abuses  of  the 
Church  according  to  the  articles  of  Torgau,  making 
altogether  quite  a  new  work.  At  Augsburg  he  gave  a 
more  correct  and  elecjant  fcirm  to  this  confession. 


'Cr^il'^^^W 


The  Apology,  as  it  was  then  called,  was  completed 
on  the  11th  May;  and  the  elector  sent  it  to  Luther, 
begging  him  to  mark  what  ought  to  be  changed.  "  I 
have  said  what  I  thought  most  useful,"  added  Melanc- 
thon,  who  feared  that  his  friend  would  find  the  con- 
fession too  weak ;  "  for  Eck  ceases  not  to  circulate 
against  us  the  most  diabolical  calumnies,  and  I  have 
endeavoured  to  oppose  an  antidote  to  his  poisons." 

Luther  replied  to  the  elector  on  the  1,5th  May:  "I 
have  read  Master  Philip's  apology ;  I  like  it  well 
enough,  and  have  no  corrections  to  make.  Besides, 
that  would  hardly  suit  me,  for  I  cauuot  walk  so 
meekly  and  so  silently.  May  Christ  our  Lord  grant 
that  this  work  may  produce  much  and  great  fruit." 

Each  day,  however,  the  elector's  councillors  and 
theologians,  in  concert  with  Melancthon,  improved  the 
confession,  and  endeavoured  to  render  it  such  that  the 
charmed  diet  should,  in  its  own  despite,  hear  it  to  the 
very  end. 

While  the  struggle  was  thus  preparing  at  Augsburg, 
Luther  at  Coburg,  on  the  summit  of  the  hill,  "  on  his 


Sinai,"  as  he  called  it,  raised  his  hands,  like  Moses,  to- 
wards heaven.  He  was  the  real  general  of  the  spiritual 
war  that  was  then  waging ;  his  letters  ceased  not  to 
bear  to  the  combatants  the  directions  which  they 
needed,  and  numerous  pamphlets  issuing  from  his 
stronghold,  like  discharges  of  musketry,  spread  confu- 
sion in  the  enemy's  camp. 

The  place  where  he  had  been  left  was,  by  its  soli- 
tude, favourable  to  study  and  to  meditation.  "  I  shall 
make  a  Zion  of  this  Sinai,"  said  he,  on  the  22d  April, 
"and  I  shall   build  here  three  tabernacles, — one  to 

the  Psalms,  another  to  the  Prophets,  and  a  third 

to  ^sop !  "  This  last  word  may  well  startle  us.  The 
association  belongs  neither  to  the  language  nor  the 
spirit  of  the  Apostles.  It  is  true  that  iEsop  was  not 
to  be  his  principal  study :  the  fables  were  soon  laid 
aside,  and  truth  alone  engaged  Luther.  "  I  shall  weep, 
I  shall  pray,  I  shall  never  be  silent,"  wrote  he,  "  until 
I  know  that  my  cry  has  been 
-  i™^3«^-<c!i;=^^ssi^i5>^  lieard  in  heaven." 

j  Besides,  by  way  of  relaxa- 
tion,  he  had  something  better 
'  ;lian  JEsop ;  he  had  those  do- 
ustic  joys  whose  precious 
;  Lusures  the  Reformation  had 
nened  to  the  ministers  of  the 
.\'ord.  It  was  at  this  time  he 
Mote  that  charming  letter  to 
i-  infant  son,  in  which  he 
r.^cribes  a  delightful  garden 
here  children  dressed  in  gold 
lie  sporting  about,  picking  up 
a]iples,  pears,  cherries,  and 
plums ;  they  sing,  dance,  and 
enjoy  themselves,  and  ride 
pretty  little  horses,  with  golden 
bridles  and  silver  sadiUes.  '■ 

But  the  reformer  was  soon 
drawn  away  from  these  pleas- 
ing images.  About  this  time 
he  learnt  that  his  father  had 
gently  fallen  asleep  in  the 
faith  which  is  in  Jesus  Christ. 
"Alas!"  exclaimed  he,  shedding  tears  of  filial  love, 
"  it  is  by  the  sweat  of  his  brow  that  he  made  me  what 
I  am."  Other  trials  assailed  him  ;  and  to  bodily  pains 
were  added  the  phantoms  of  his  imagination.  One 
night,  in  particular,  he  saw  three  torches  pass  rapidly 
before  his  eyes,  and  at  the  same  moment  heard  claps 
of  thunder  in  his  head,  which  he  ascribed  to  the  devil. 
His  servant  ran  in  at  the  moment  he  fainted,  and  after 
having  restored  him  to  animation,  read  to  him  the 
Epistle  to  the  Galatiaus.  Luther,  who  had  fallen 
asleep,  said  as  he  awoke :  "  Come,  and  despite  of  the 
devil,  let  us  sing  the  Psalm,  Out  of  the  depths  have  I 
cried  unto  thee,  0  Lord!"  They  both  sang  the  hymn. 
WhUe  Luther  was  thus  tormented  by  these  internal 
noises,  he  translated  the  prophet  Jeremiah,  and  yet  he 
often  deplored  his  idleness. 

He  soon  devoted  himseK  to  other  studies,  and  poured 
out  the  floods  of  his  irony  on  the  mundane  practices  of 
courts.     He  saw  Venice,  the  pope,  and  the  King  of 

1  Tlus  letter,  which  is  a  masterpiece  of  its  kind,  may  bo  found  in  Luther's 
Epp.,  iv.  41,  and  also  in  Riddle's  "Luther  and  his  Times,"  p.  208. 


SAXONY  A  PARADISE  BELOW. 


449 


France,  giving  their  liands  to  Charles  V.  to  crush  tlie 
Gospel.  Then,  alone  in  his  chamber  in  the  old  castle, 
he  bnrst  into  irrcsistiblo  laughter.  "  Mr.  Par-ma-fo;/, 
(it  was  thus  he  designated  Francis  1.,)  In-nomine- 
Domini,  (the  pope,)  and  the  republic  of  Venice,  pledge 
their  goods  and  their  bodies  to  the  emperor.  .  .  . 
Si(nctissimiim/u(lus.  A  most  holy  alliance  truly!  This 
league  between  these  four  powers  belongs  to  the  chap- 
ter yoii-credimtis.  Venice,  the  pope,  and  France  be- 
come imperialists!  .  .  .  But  tlicso  are  three  persons 
in  one  substance,  tilled  with  unspeakable  hatred  against 
the  emperor.  Mr.  Par-ma-foij  cannot  forget  his  defeat 
at  Pavia;  Mr.  In-nomine-Doinini,  is,  1st,  an  Italian, 
which  is  already  too  much ;  2d,  a  Florentine,  which  is 
worse ;  3d,  a  bastard, — that  is  to  say,  a  child  of  the 
devil ;  4ti),  ho  will  never  forget  the  disgrace  of  the 
sack  of  Rome.  As  for  the  Venetians,  they  are  Vene- 
tians,— that  is  quite  enough ;  and  they  have  good 
reason  to  avenge  themselves  on  the  posterity  of  Maxi- 
milian. AU  this  belongs  to  the  chapter  Firmiter-crcdi- 
miis.  But  God  will  help  tlie  pious  Charles,  who  is 
a  sheep  among  wolves.  Amen."  The  ex-monk  of 
Erfurt  had  a  surer  political  foresight  than  many 
diplomatists  of  his  age. 

Impatient  at  seeing  the  diet  put  off  from  day  to  day, 
Luther  formed  his  resolution,  and  ended  by  convoking 
it  even  at  Coburg.  "We  are  already  in  full  assembly," 
■wrote  he,  on  the  28th  April  and  the  9th  May.  "  You 
might  here  see  kings,  dukes,  and  other  grandees,  de- 
liberating on  the  affaire  of  their  kingdom,  and  with 
indefatigable  voice  publishing  their  dogmas  and  decrees 
in  the  air.  They  dwell  not  in  those  caverns  which  you 
decorate  with  the  name  of  palaces:  the  heavens  are 
their  canopy;  the  leafy  trees  form  a  floor  of  a  thousand 
colours;  and  their  walls  are  the  ends  of  the  earth.  They 
have  a  horror  of  all  the  unmeaning  luxury  of  silk  and 
gold ;  they  ask  neither  courses  nor  armour ;  and  have 
all  the  same  clothing  and  the  same  colour.  I  have  not 
seen  or  heard  their  emperor ;  but  if  I  can  understand 
them,  they  have  determined  this  year  to  make  a  pitiless 

war  upon the  most  excellent  fruits  of  the  earth. 

— Ah !  my  dear  friends,"  said  he  to  his  colleagues,  to 
whom  he  was  writing,  "these  are  the  sophists,  the 
Papists,  who  are  assembled  before  me  from  all  quarters 
of  the  world  to  make  me  hear  their  sermons  and  their 
cries."  These  two  letters,  dated  from  the  "  empire  of 
ravens  aiid  crows,"  finish  in  the  following  mournful 
strain,  which  shews  us  the  reformer  descending  into 
himself  after  this  play  of  his  imagination :  "  Enough 
of  jesting! — jesting  which  is,  however,  sometimes 
necessary  to  dispel  the  gloomy  thoughts  that  over- 
whelm me." 

Luther  soon  returned  to  real  life,  and  thrilled  with 
joy  at  beholding  the  fruits  that  the  Reformation  was 
already  bearing,  and  which  were  for  him  a  more  power- 
ful "  apology"  than  even  the  confession  of  Melancthon. 
"Is  there  in  the  whole  world  a  single  country  to  be 
compared  to  your  highness's  states,"  wrote  he  to  the 
elector,  "  and  which  possesses  preachers  of  so  pure  a 
doctrine,  or  pastors  so  fitted  to  bring  about  the  reign 
of  peace  ?  Where  do  wc  see,  as  in  Saxony,  boys  and 
girls  well  instructed  in  the  Holy  Scriptures  and  in  the 
Catechism,  increasing  in  wisdom  and  in  stature,  pray- 
ing, believing,  talking  of  God  and  of  Christ  better  than 


has  been  done  hitherto  by  all  the  universities,  convents, 
and  chapters  of  Christendom?" — "My  dear  Duke 
Joiui,  says  the  Lord  to  you,  I  commend  this  paradise 
to  thee,  the  most  beautiful  that  exists  in  the  world, 
tiiat  thou  mayest  be  its  gardener."  And  then  he 
added :  "  Alas !  the  madness  of  the  papist  princes 
changes  this  paradise  of  God  into  a  dirty  slough,  and 
corrupting  the  youth,  daily  peoples  with  real  devils 
their  states,  their  tables,  and  their  palaces." 

Luther,  not  content  with  encouraging  his  prince, 
desired  also  to  frighten  his  adversaries.  It  was  with 
this  intent  that  he  wrote  at  that  time  an  address  to 
the  members  of  the  clergy  assembled  at  Augsburg. 
A  crowd  of  tlioughts,  like  lansquenets  armed  cap-a-pie', 
"  rushed  in  to  fatigue  and  bewilder  him ;"  and  in  fact, 
there  is  no  want  of  barbed  words  in  the  discourse  he 
addresses  to  the  bishops.  "  In  short,"  said  he  to  them, 
in  conclusion,  "  we  know,  and  you  know,  that  we  have 
the  Word  of  God,  and  that  you  have  it  not.  O  pope  ! 
if  I  live  I  shall  be  a  pestilence  to  thee ;  and  if  I  die,  I 
shall  be  thy  death  ?" 

Thus  w;is  Luther  present  at  Augsburg,  although  in- 
visible; and  he  effected  more  by  his  words  and  by 
prayers  than  Agricola,  Breutz,  or  Melancthon.  These 
were  the  days  of  travail  for  the  Gospel  truth.  It  was 
about  to  appear  in  the  world  with  a  might,  destined  to 
eclipse  all  that  had  been  done  since  the  time  of  St. 
Paul ;  but  Luther  only  announced  and  manifested  the 
things  that  God  was  effecting:  he  did  not  execute 
them  himself.  He  was,  as  regards  the  events  of  the 
Church,  what  Socrates  was  to  philosophy:  "  I  imitate 
my  mother,  (she  was  a  midwife,)"  this  philosopher  was 
in  the  habit  of  saying ;  "  she  does  not  travail  herself, 
but  she  aids  others."  Luther — and  he  never  ceased 
repeating  it — has  created  nothing ;  but  lie  has  brought 
to  light  the  precious  seed,  hidden  for  ages  in  the  bosom 
of  the  Church.  The  man  of  God  is  not  he  who  seeks 
to  form  his  age  according  to  his  own  peculiar  ideas; 
but  he  who,  distinctly  perceiving  God's  truth,  such  as 
it  is  found  in  His  Word,  and  as  it  is  hidden  in  His 
Church,  brings  it  to  his  contemporaries  with  courage 
and  decision. 

Never  had  these  qualities  been  more  necessary,  for 
matters  were  taking  an  alarming  aspect.  On  the  4th 
June  died  Chancellor  Gattinara,  who  was  to  Charles 
the  Fifth  "  what  Ulpian  was  to  Alexander  Severus," 
says  Melancthon,  and  with  him  all  the  human  hopes 
of  the  Protestants  vanished.  "  It  is  God,"  Luther  had 
said,  "  who  has  raised  up  for  us  a  Naaman  in  the  court 
of  the  King  of  Syria."  In  truth,  Gattinara  alone 
resisted  the  pope.  When  Charles  brought  to  him  the 
objections  of  Rome :  "  Remember,"  said  the  chancellor, 
"that  you  are  master!"  Henceforward,  everything 
seemed  to  take  a  new  direction.  The  pope  required 
that  Charles  should  be  satisfied  with  being  his  "  lictor," 
as  Luther  says,  to  carry  out  his  judgments  against  the 
heretics.  Eck,  whose  name  (according  to  Melancthon) 
was  no  bad  imitation  of  the  cry  of  Luther's  crows, 
heaped  one  upon  another  a  multitude  of  pretended 
heretical  propositions,  extracted  from  the  reformer's 
writings.  They  amounted  to  four  hundred  and  four, 
and  yet  ho  made  excuse  that,  being  taken  unawares, 
he  was  forced  to  restrict  himself  to  so  small  a  num- 
ber, and  he  called  loudly  for  a  disputation  with  the 


450 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFOEMATION. 


Lntlierans.  They  retorted  ou  these  propositions  by  a 
number  of  ironical  and  biting  theses  on  "  wine,  Venus, 
and  baths,  against  John  Eck ;"  and  the  poor  doctor 
became  the  general  laughing-stock. 

But  others  went  to  work  more  skilfully  than  he. 
Cochloeus,  wlio  became  chaplain  to  Duke  George  of 
Saxony  in  1527,  begged  an  interview  with  Melanc- 
thou,  "  for,"  added  he,  "  I  cannot  converse  with  your 
married  ministers."  Melancthon,  who  was  looked 
upon  with  an  evil  eye  at  Augsburg,  and  who  had 
complained  of  being  more  solitary  there  than  Luther 
in  his  castle,  was  touched  by  this  coiu-tesy,  and  -was 
still  more  fully  penetrated  with  the  idea  that  things 
should  be  ordered  in  the  mildest  manner  possible. 

The  Romish  priests  and  laymen  made  a  great  uproar, 
because  on  fast  days  meat  was  usually  eaten  at  the 
elector's  com't.  Melancthon  advised  his  prince  to 
restrict  the  liberty  of  his  attendants  in  this  respect. 
"  This  disorder,"  said  he,  "  far  from  leading  the  simple- 
minded  to  the  Gospel,  scandalizes  them."  He  added 
in  his  ill-humour :  "  A  fine  holiness  truly,  to  make  it  a 
matter  of  conscience  to  fast,  and  yet  to  be  night  and 
day  given  up  to  wine  and  folly!"  The  elector  did  not 
yield  to  Melancthou's  advice ;  it  would  have  been  a 
mark  of  weakness  of  Avhich  his  adversaries  would  have 
known  how  to  take  advantage. 

On  the  31st  May,  the  Saxon  Confession  was  at 
length  communicated  to  the  other  Protestant  states, 
who  required  that  it  should  be  presented  in  common 
in  the  name  of  them  all.  But  at  the  same  time  they 
desired  to  make  their  reservations  with  regard  to  the 
infiuenee  of  the  state.  "  We  appeal  to  a  council,"  said 
Melancthon  ;  "  we  will  not  receive  the  emperor  as  our 
judge ;  the  ecclesiastical  constitutions  themselves  for- 
bid him  to  pronounce  in  spiritual  matters.  Moses 
declares  that  it  is  not  the  civil  magistrate  who  decides, 
but  the  sons  of  Levi.  St.  Paul  also  says,  (1  Cor.  xiv.,) 
'ct  the  others  judge,  which  cannot  be  understood  except 
of  an  entire  Christian  assembly;  and  the  Saviour  him- 
elf  gives  us  this  commandment :  Tell  it  unto  tlie  Church. 
vVe  pledge,  therefore,  our  obedience  to  the  emperor  in 
all  civil  matters;  but  as  for  the  Word  of  God,  we 
demand  liberty." 

All  were  agreed  on  this  point ;  but  the  dissent  came 
from  another  quarter.  The  Lutherans  feared  to  com- 
promise theii-  cause  if  they  went  hand-in-hand  with 
the  Zwinglians.  "  This  is  Lutheran  madness,"  replied 
Bucer:  "  it  will  perish  of  its  own  weight."  But,  far 
from  allowing  this  madness  "  to  perish,"  the  reformed 
augmented  the  disunion  by  exaggerated  complaints. 
"  In  Saxony  they  are  beginning  to  sing  Latin  hymns 
again,"  said  they;  "the  sacred  vestments  are  resumed, 
and  oblations  are  called  for  anew.  We  would  rather 
be  led  to  the  slaughter  than  be  Christians  after  that 
fashion." 

The  afflicted  landgrave,  says  Bucer,  was  "  between 
the  hammer  and  the  anvil ;"  and  his  allies  caused  him 
more  uneasiness  than  his  enemies.  He  applied  to 
llhegius,  to  Brcntz,  to  Melancthon,  declaring  that  it 
was  his  most  earnest  wish  to  see  concord  prevail  among 
all  the  evangelical  doctors.  "  If  these  fatal  doctrines 
arc  not  opposed,"  replied  Melancthon,  "  there  will  be 
rents  in  the  Church  that  will  last  to  the  end  of  the 
world.      Do  not  the  Zwinglians  boast  of  their  full 


coffers,  of  having  soldiers  prepared,  and  of  foreign 
nations  disposed  to  aid  them?  Do  they  not  talk  of 
sharing  among  them  the  rights  and  the  property  of  the 
bishops,  and  of  proclaiming  liberty?  Good  God !  shall 
we  not  think  of  posterity,  which,  if  we  do  not  repress 
these  guilty  seditions,  will  be  at  once  without  throne 
and  without  altar?" — "No,  no!  we  are  one,"  replied 
this  generous  prince,  who  was  so  much  in  advance  of 
his  age  ;  "  we  all  confess  the  same  Christ,  we  all  pro- 
fess that  we  must  eat  Jesus  Christ,  by  faith,  in  the 
Eucharist.  Let  us  unite."  All  was  unavailing.  The 
time  in  which  true  catholicity  was  to  replace  this 
sectarian  spirit,  of  which  Rome  is  the  most  perfect 
expression,  had  not  yet  arrived. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Agitation  in  Augsbnrg — Violence  of  the  Imperialists — Charles  at  Btunich — 
Charles's  Arrival— The  Nuncio's  Blessing— The  Imperial  Procession- 
Charles's  Appearance — Enters  Augsburg — Te  Deum — The  Benediction 
— Charles  desii-es  the  Sermons  to  be  discontinued — Brandenburg  offei-a 
his  Head — The  Emperor's  Request  for  Corpus  Christi — Refusal  of  the 
Princes— Agitation  of  Chai-les— The  Princes  oppose  Tradition— Proces- 
sion of  Corpus  Christi — Exasperation  of  Charles. 

In  proportion  as  the  emperor  drew  near  Augsburg,  the 
anxieties  of  the  Protestants  continued  increasing.  The 
burghers  of  this  imperial  city  expected  to  see  it  become 
the  theatre  of  strange  events.  Accordingly  they  said, 
that  if  the  elector,  the  landgrave,  and  other  friends  of 
the  Reformation,  Avere  not  in  the  midst  of  them,  they 
woiUd  all  desert  it.  "A  great  destruction  threatens 
us,"  was  repeated  on  every  side.  One  of  Charles's 
haughty  expressions  above  all  disquieted  the  Protes- 
tants. "  What  do  these  electors  Avant  with  me  ?"  he 
had  said  impatiently;  "I  shall  do  what  I  please!" 
Thus  arbitrary  rule  was  the  imperial  law  destined  to 
prevail  in  the  diet. 

To  this  agitation  of  men's  minds  was  added  the 
agitation  of  the  streets,  or  rather,  one  led  to  the  other. 
Masons  and  locksmiths  were  at  work  in  all  the  public 
places  and  crossings,  laboriously  fastening  barriers  and 
chains  to  the  walls,  that  might  be  closed  or  stretched 
at  the  first  cry  of  alarm.  At  the  same  time,  about 
eight  hundred  foot  and  horse  soldiers  were  seen  patrol- 
ling the  streets,  dressed  in  velvet  and  silk,  whom  the 
magistrates  had  enrolled  in  order  to  receive  the  em- 
peror with  magnificence. 

Matters  were  in  this  state,  and  it  was  about  the 
middle  of  May,  when  a  number  of  insolent  Spanish 
quartermasters  arrived,  who,  looking  with  contemp- 
tuous eyes  on  these  wretched  burghers,  entered  their 
houses,  conducted  themselves  with  violence,  and  even 
rudely  tore  down  the  arms  of  some  of  the  princes. 
The  magistrates  having  delegated  councillors  to  treat 
with  them,  the  Spaniards  made  an  impudent  reply. 
"Alas  !"  said  the  citizens,  "if  the  servants  are  so,  what 
will  their  masters  be?"  The  ministers  of  Charles  were 
grieved  at  their  impertinence,  and  sent  a  German  quar- 
termaster, who  employed  the  forms  of  German  polite- 
ness to  make  them  forget  this  Spanish  haughtiness. 


ARRIVAL  OF  CHARLES  V.  AT  MUNICH. 


That  did  not  last  long,  and  they  soon  felt  more 
serious  alarm.  The  Council  of  Augsburg  were  asked 
what  was  the  meaning  of  these  chains  and  soldiers, 
and  they  were  ordered,  in  the  emperor's  name,  to  take 
down  the  one,  and  disband  the  other.  The  magis- 
trates of  the  city  answered  in  alarm  :  "  For  more  than 
ten  years  past  we  have  intended  putting  up  these 
chains  ;  and  as  for  the  soldiers,  our  object  is  simply  to 
pay  due  honour  to  his  majesty."  After  many  parleys 
it  was  agreed  to  dismiss  the  troops,  and  that  the  impe- 
rial commanders  should  select  afresh  a  thousand  men, 
who  should  make  oath  to  the  emperor,  but  be  paid  by 
the  city  of  Augsburg. 

The  imperial  quartermasters  then  resumed  all  their 
insolence ;  and  no  longer  giving  themselves  the  trouble 
of  entering  the  houses  and  the  shops,  they  tore  down 
the  signboards  of  the  Augsburg  citizens,  and  wrote  in 
their  place  how  many  men  and  horses  the  latter  would 
be  required  to  lodge. 

Such  were  the  preludes  to  the  work  of  conciliation 
that  Charles  V.  had  announced,  and  that  he  was  so 
slow  in  beginning.  Accordingly,  his  delay,  attributed 
by  some  to  the  crowds  of  people  who  surrounded  him 
with  their  acclamations ;  by  others,  to  the  solicitations 
of  the  priests,  who  opposed  his  entry  into  Augsburg 
until  he  had  imposed  silence  on  the  ministers ;  and  by 
others,  finally,  to  the  lessons  the  pope  had  given  him 
in  the  arts  of  policy  and  stratagem,  still  more  estranged 
the  elector  and  his  allies. 

At  last  Charles,  having  quitted  Innspruck  two  days 
after  Gattinara's  death,  arrived  at  Munich  on  the  10th 
June.  His  reception  was  magnificent.  About  two 
miles  from  the  town  a  temporary  fortress  had  been 
erected,  around  which  a  sham-fight  took  place.  .Sol- 
diers mounted  to  the  assault,  mines  were  exploded ; 
discharges  of  artillery,  clouds  of  smoke,  the  clash  of 
arms,  the  shouts  of  the  combatants,  delighted  the  eyes 
and  ears  of  the  emperor ;  within  the  city,  theatres  had 
been  raised  in  the  open  air,  in  which  the  Jewish  Esther, 
the  Persian  Camhyses,  and  other  pieces  not  less  famous, 
were  represented  ;  and  the  whole,  combined  with  splen- 
did fire-works,  formed  the  welcome  given  by  the 
adherents  of  the  pope  to  him  whom  they  styled  their 
saviour. 

Charles  was  not  far  distant  from  Augsburg.  As 
early  as  the  11th  June,  every  day  and  every  hour 
members  of  the  imperial  household,  carriages,  waggons, 
and  baggage,  entered  the  city,  to  the  sound  of  the 
clacking  whip  and  of  the  horn  ;  and  the  burghers,  in 
amazement,  gazed  with  dejected  eyes  on  all  this  inso- 
lent train,  that  fell  upon  their  city  like  a  flight  of 
locusts. 

At  five  o'clock  in  the  morning  of  the  15th  June,  the 
elector,  the  princes,  and  their  councillors,  assembled  at 
the  town-hall,  and  erelong  arrived  the  imperial  com- 
missaries,, with  orders  for  them  to  go  out  and  meet 
Charles.  At  three  in  the  afternoon  the  princes  and 
deputies  quitted  the  city,  and,  having  reached  a  little 
bridge  across  the  river  Lech,  they  were  halted,  and 
waited  for  the  emperor.  The  eyes  of  every  member 
of  the  brilliant  assemblage,  thus  stopping  on  the  smil- 
ing banks  of  an  alpine  toiTent,  were  directed  along  the 
road  to  Munich.  At  length,  after  waiting  two  or  three 
hours,  clouds  of  dust  and  a  loud  noise  aonounced  the 


emperor.  Two  thousand  of  the  imperial  guard  marched 
first ;  and  as  soon  as  Charles  had  come  to  within  fifty 
paces  of  the  river,  the  electors  and  princes  alighted. 
Their  sons,  who  had  advanced  beyond  the  bridge,  per- 
ceiving the  emperor  preparing  to  do  the  same,  ran  to 
him  and  begged  him  to  remain  on  horseback ;  but 
Charles  dismounted  without  hesitation,  and  approach- 
ing the  princes  with  an  amiable  smile,  cordially  shook 
hands  witii  them.  Albert  of  Mentz,  in  his  quality  of 
arch-chancellor  of  the  empire,  now  welcomed  the  em- 
peror, an  1  the  Count-palatine  Frederick  replied  in 
behalf  of  Charles. 

While  this  was  passing,  three  individuals  remained 
apart  on  a  little  elevation;  these  were  the  Roman 
legate,  proudly  seated  on  a  mide,  glittering  with  purple, 
and  accompanied  by  two  other  cardinals,  the  Arch- 
bishop of  Salzburg,  and  the  Bishop  of  Trent.  The 
nuncio,  beholding  all  these  great  personages  on  the 
road,  raised  his  hands,  and  gave  them  his  blessing. 
Immediately  the  emperor,  the  king,  and  the  princes 
who  submitted  to  the  pope,  fell  on  their  knees ;  the 
Spaniards,  Italians,  Netherlanders,  and  Germans  in 
their  train,  imitated  their  movements,  casting,  however, 
a  side-glance  on  the  Protestants,  who,  in  the  midst  of 
this  humbly  prostrate  crowd,  alone  remained  standing. 
Charles  did  not  appear  to  notice  this,  but  he,  doubtless, 
understood  what  it  meant.  The  Elector  of  Branden- 
burg then  delivered  a  Latin  speech  to  the  legate.  Ha 
had  been  selected  because  he  spoke  this  language  bet- 
ter than  the  princes  of  the  Church;  and  accordingly, 
Charles,  when  praising  his  eloquence,  silly  put  in 
a  word  about  the  negligence  of  the  prelates.  The 
emperor  now  prepared  to  remount  his  horse;  the 
Prince-electoral  of  Saxony,  and  the  young  princes  of 
Luueburg,  Mecklenburg,  Brandenburg,  and  Anhalt, 
rushed  towards  him  to  aid  him  in  getting  into  his 
saddle :  one  held  the  bridle,  another  the  stirrup,  and  all 
were  charmed  at  the  magnificent  appearance  of  their 
powerful  sovereign.     The  procession  began  to  move  on. 

First  came  two  companies  of  lansquenets,  com- 
manded by  Simon  Seitz,  a  citizen  of  Augsburg,  who 
had  made  the  campaign  of  Italy,  and  was  returning 
home  laden  with  gold.  Next  advanced  the  house- 
holds of  the  six  electors,  composed  of  princes,  counts, 
councillors,  gentlemen,  and  soldiers ;  the  household  of 
the  dukes  of  Bavaria  had  slipped  into  their  ranks ;  and 
the  four  hundred  and  fifty  horsemen  that  composed 
it  marched  five  abreast,  covered  with  bright  cuirasses, 
and  wearing  red  doublets,  while  over  their  heads  floated 
handsome  many-coloured  plumes.  Bavaria  was  already 
in  this  age  the  main  support  of  Rome  in  Germany. 

Immediately  after  came  the  households  of  the  em- 
peror and  of  his  brother,  in  striking  contrast  with  this 
warlike  show.  They  were  composed  of  Turkish, 
Polish,  Arabian,  and  other  led  horses ;  then  followed 
a  multitude  of  young  pages,  clad  in  yellow  or  red 
velvet,  with  Spanish,  Bohemian,  and  Austrian  nobles, 
in  robes  of  silk  and  velvet ;  among  these  the  Bohemians 
had  the  most  martial  air,  and  gracefully  rode  their 
superb  and  prancing  coursers.  Last,  the  trumpeters, 
drummers,  heralds,  grooms,  footmen,  and  the  legate's 
cross-bearers,  announced  the  approach  of  the  princes. 

In  fact,  these  powerful  lords,  whose  contentions  had 
so  often  filled  Germany  with  confusion  and  war,  nov.^ 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


advanced  riding  peacefully  side  by  side.  After  the 
princes  ajjpeared  the  electors ;  and  the  Elector  of 
Saxony,  according  to  custom,  carried  the  naked  and 
glittering  imperial  sword  immediately  before  the  em- 
peror. 

Last  came  the  prince,  nn  -wlmm  all  eyes  were  fixed. 
Thirty  years  of  au.-.  "f  'li-tiiijiii-licJ  port  uiid  pleasing 


t'l 


i 


-c^  lWl£^-_:r..^:^ 


featiu-es,  robed  in  golden  garments  that  glittered  all 
over  with  precious  stones,  wearing  a  small  Spanish 
hat  on  the  crown  of  his  head,  mounted  on  a  beautiful 
Polish  hackney  of  the  most  brilliant  whiteness,  rid- 
ing beneath  a  rich  canopy  of  red,  white,  and  green 
damask,  borne  by  six  senators  of  Augsburg,  and  cast- 
ing around  him  looks  in  which  gentleness  was  mingled 
with  gravity,  Charles  excited  the  liveliest  enthusiasm, 


and  every  one  exclaimed  that  he  was  the  handsomest 
man  in  the  empire,  as  well  as  the  mightiest  prince  in 
the  world. 

He  had  at  first  desired  to  place  his  brother  and  the 

legate  at  his  side ;  but  the  Elector  of  IMentz,  attended 

by  two  hundred  guards  arrayed  in  silk,  had  claimed 

the  emperor's  right  hand ;  and  the  Elector  of  Cologne, 

with  a  hundred  well-armed  attendants, 

had  taken  his  station  on  the  left.    King 

Ferdinand  and  the  legate  came  next; 

to  whom  succeeded  the  cardinals,  am- 

BBR^^Hr^  bassadors,  and  prelates,  among  whom 

was  remarked  the  haughty  Bishop  of 

Osma,  the   emperor's   confessor.     The 

imperial    cavalry    and    the   troops    of 

Augsburg  closed  the  procession. 

Never,  according  to  the  historians, 
had  anything  so  magnificent  been  seen 
in    the    empire ;    but    they    advanced 

I  \\1}  and  it  was  between  eight  and 
niuL  o  clock  in  the  evening  before  they 
1  1  htd  the  gates  of  Augsburg.  Here 
tl    \  met  the  burgomaster  and  council- 

I  1  ^\ho  prostrated  themselves  before 
C  li  iiks,  and,  at  the  same  time,  the  can- 

II  n  tiom  the  ramparts,  the  bells  from 
ill  the  steeples  in  full  peal,  the  noise  of 
tiunipets  and  kettle-drums,  and  the  joy- 
tul  acclamations  of  the  people,  re-echoed 
^  ith  loud  din.  Stadion,  bishop  of  Augs- 
burg, and  his  clergy  robed  in  white, 
struck  up  the  Advenisti  desirahilis ;  and 
SIX  canons,  advancing  with  a  magni- 
lietut  canopy,  prepared  to  conduct  the 

111]  lor  to  the  cathedral,  when  Charles's 
li  1     ,   staitled  at  this    unusual    sight, 

II  1 1  uly  reared,  and  the  emperor  had 
1  1     difficulty  in  mastering  him.     At 

I  I  ill  Charles  entered  the  minster, 
\  1  1  li  T\a»  ornamented  with  garlands 

III  1  11  iwers,  and  suddenly  illuminated 
1  \    1  thousind  torches. 

1  1r  emperor  went  up  to  the  altar,  and 
t  II1114  on  his  knees,  raised  his  hands  to- 
\\  1  Is  heaven.  During  the  Te  Deinn, 
tl  Protestants  observed  with  anxiety 
til  it  Charles  kept  conversing  in  a  low 
tone  \\  ith  the  Archbishop  of  Mentz ;  that 
he  bent  his  ear  to  the  legate  who  ap- 
pioachedto  speak  to  him,  and  nodded 
m  a  friendly  manner  to  Duke  George. 
All  this  appeared  to  them  of  evil  omen ; 
but  at  the  moment  when  the  priests 
sang  the  Te  errjo  quccsuvins,  Charles, 
bieakmg  off  his  conversations,  suddenly 
rose,  and  one  of  the  acolytes  running  to 
with  a  gold-embroidered  cushion,  the  emperor  put 
it  aside,  and  knelt  on  the  bare  stones  of  the  church. 
All  the  assembly  knelt  with  him ;  the  elector  and  the 
landgrave  alone  remained  standing.  Duke  George, 
astonished  at  such  boldness,  cast  a  threatening  glance 
at  his  cousin.  The  Margrave  of  Brandenburg,  carried 
away  by  the  crowd,  had  fallen  on  his  knees ;  but  hav- 
ing seen  his  two  allies  standing,  he  hastily  rose  up  again. 


INTERVIEW  OF  CHARLES  WITH  THE  PRINCES. 


The  Cardinal-archbishop  of  Salzburg  then  proceeded 
to  pronounce  the  benediction ;  but  Campeggio,  impa- 
tient at  having  as  yet  taken  no  part  in  the  ceremony, 
hastened  to  the  altar,  and  rudely  thrusting  the  arch- 
bishop aside,  said  sharply  to  him :  "  This  ollicc  belongs 
to  mc,  and  not  to  you."  The  other  gave  way,  the 
emperor  bent  down,  and  the  landgrave,  with  difficulty 
concealing  a  smile,  hid  himself  behind  a  candelabrum. 
The  bells  now  rang  out  anew,  the  procession  recom- 
menced its  march,  and  the  princes  conducted  the  em- 
peror to  the  palatinate,  (the  name  given  to  the  bishoj)'s 
palace,)  wliich  had  been  in-eparcd  for  him.  The  crowd 
now  dispersed :  it  was  after  ten  at  night. 

The  hour  was  come  in  which  the  partisans  of  the 
papacy  flattered  themselves  with  the  prospect  of  render- 
ing the  Protestants  untrue  to  their  faith.  The  arrival 
of  the  emperor,  the  procession  of  the  holy  sacrament 
that  was  preparing,  the  late  hour, — all  had  been  calcu- 
lated beforehand ;  "  the  nocturns  of  treason  were  about 
to  begin,"  said  Spalatin. 

A  few  minutes  of  general  conversation  took  place  in 
the  emperor's  apartments ;  the  princes  of  the  Romish 
party  were  then  allowed  to  retire ;  but  Chai-les  had 
given  a  sign  to  the  Elector  of  Saxony,  to  the  Land- 
grave of  Hesse,  to  George,  margrave  of  Brandenburg, 
to  the  Prince  of  Anhalt,  and  to  the  Duke  of  Luneburg, 
to  follow  him  into  his  private  chamber.  His  brother 
Ferdinand,  who  was  to  serve  as  interpreter,  alone  went 
in  with  them.  Charles  thought  that  so  long  as  the 
Protestant  princes  were  before  the  world,  they  would 
not  yield  ;  but  that  in  a  private  and  friendly  interview, 
he  might  obtain  all  he  desired  of  them. 

"  His  majesty  requests  you  to  discontinue  the  ser- 
mon," said  Ferdinand.  On  hearing  these  words  the 
two  elder  princes  (the  elector  and  the  margrave) 
turned  pale,  and  did  not  speak:  there  was  a  long 
silence. 

At  last  the  landgrave  said :  "  We  entreat  your  ma- 
jesty to  withdraw  your  recjuest,  for  our  ministers  preach 
only  the  pure  Word  of  God,  as  did  the  ancient  doctors 
of  the  Church,  St.  Augustine,  St.  Hilary,  and  so  many 
others.  Of  this  your  majesty  may  easily  convince 
yourself.  We  cannot  deprive  ourselves  of  the  food  of 
the  Word  of  God,  and  deny  His  Gospel." 

Ferdinand,  resuming  the  conversation  in  French, 
(for  it  was  in  this  language  that  he  conversed  with  his 
brother,)  informed  the  emperor  of  the  landgrave's 
answer.  Nothing  was  more  displeasing  to  Charles 
than  these  citations  of  Hilary  and  Augustine ;  the 
colour  mounted  to  his  cheeks,  and  he  was  nearly  giving 
way  to  his  anger.  "  His  majesty,"  said  Ferdinand  in 
a  more  positive  tone,  "cannot  desist  from  his  demand." 
— "Your  conscience,"  quickly  replied  the  landgrave, 
"  has  no  right  to  command  ours."  As  Ferdinand  still 
persisted,  the  margrave,  who  had  been  silent  until  then, 
could  contain  himself  no  longer,  and,  without  caring 
for  interpreters,  stretched  out  his  neck  towards  Charles, 
exclaiming  in  deep  emotion  :  "  Rather  than  allow  the 
Word  of  the  Lord  to  be  taken  from  me,  rather  than 
deny  my  God,  I  would  kneel  down  before  your  majesty 
and  have  my  head  cut  off ! "  As  he  uttered  these 
simplcapd  magnanimous  words,  says  a  contemporary, 
the  prince  accompanied  them  with  a  significant  gesture, 
and  let  his  hands  fall  on  his  ueck  like  the  headsman's 


axe.  Tlie  excitement  of  the  princes  was  at  its  height : 
had  it  been  necessary,  they  would  all  four  have  in- 
stantly walked  to  tlie  scaffold.  Charles  was  moved  by 
it ;  surprised  and  agitated,  he  hastily  cried  out  in  his 
bad  German,  making  a  show  of  checking  the  land- 
grave: "Dear  prince,  not  the  head!  not  the  head!" 
But  he  had  scarcely  uttered  these  few  words  when  ho 
checked  himself. 

These  were  the  only  words  that  Charles  pronounced 
before  the  princes  during  all  the  diet.  His  ignorance 
of  the  German  language,  and  sometimes  also  the 
etiquette  of  the  Escurial,  compelled  him  to  speak  only 
by  the  mouth  of  his  brother,  or  of  the  count-palatine. 
As  he  was  in  the  habit  of  consecrating  four  hours  daily 
to  Divine  worship,  the  people  said :  "  He  talks  more 
with  God  than  with  men."  This  habitual  silence  was 
not  favourable  to  his  plans.  They  required  activity 
and  eloquence ;  but  instead  of  that  the  Germans  saw 
in  the  dumb  countenance  of  their  youthful  emperor,  a 
mere  puppet,  nodding  his  head  and  winking  his  eyes. 
Charles  sometimes  felt  very  keenly  the  faults  of  this 
position  :  "To  be  able  to  speak  German,"  said  he,  "I 
would  willingly  sacrifice  any  other  language,  even  were 
it  Spanish  or  French,  and  more  than  that,  one  of  my 
states." 

Ferdinand  saw  that  it  was  useless  to  insist  on  the 
cessation  of  these  meetings  ;  but  he  had  another  arrow 
in  his  quiver.  The  next  day  was  the  festival  of  Corpus 
Christi,  and,  by  a  custom  that  had  never  as  yet  been 
infringed,  all  the  princes  and  deputies  present  at  the 
diet  were  expected  to  take  part  in  the  procession. 
Would  the  Protestants  refuse  this  act  of  courtesy  at 
the  very  opening  of  a  diet  to  which  each  one  came  in 
a  conciliatory  spirit?  Have  they  not  declared  that 
the  body  and  blood  of  Christ  are  really  in  the  Host  ? 
Do  they  not  boast  of  their  opposition  to  Zwingle ;  and 
can  they  stand  aloof  without  being  tainted  with  heresy? 
Now,  if  they  share  in  the  pomp  that  surrounds  "  the 
Lord's  body;"  if  they  mingle  with  that  crowd  of  clergy, 
glittering  in  luxury  and  swelling  with  pride,  who 
carry  about  the  god  whom  they  have  created ;  if  they 
are  present  when  the  people  bow  down,  will  they  not 
irrevocably  compromise  their  faith  ?  The  machine  is 
well  prepared ;  its  movements  cannot  fail ;  there  is  no 
more  doubt !  The  craft  of  the  Italians  is  about  to 
triumph  over  the  simplicity  of  these  German  boors ! 

Ferdinand  therefore  resumes,  and  making  a  weapon 
of  the  very  refusal  that  he  had  just  met  with  :  "  Since 
the  emperor,"  said  he,  "  cannot  obtain  from  you  the 
suspension  of  your  assemblies,  he  begs  at  least  that 
you  will  accompany  him  to-morrow,  according  to  cus- 
tom, in  the  procession  of  the  Holy  Sacrament.  Do 
so,  if  not  from  regard  to  him,  at  least  for  the  honour 
of  Almighty  God." 

The  princes  were  still  more  irritated  and  alarmed. 
"Christ,"  said  they,  "did  not  institute  His  sacrament 
to  be  worshipped."  Charles  persevered  in  his  demand, 
and  the  Protestants  in  their  refusal.  Upon  this  the 
emperor  declared  that  he  would  not  accept  their  ex- 
cuse, that  he  would  give  them  time  for  reflection,  and 
that  they  must  be  prepared  to  reply  early  on  the 
morrow. 

They  separated  in  the  greatest  agitation.  The 
prince-electoral,  who  had  waited  for  his  father  in  the 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


first  hall  along  with  other  lords,  sought,  at  the  moment 
the  princes  issued  from  the  emperor's  chamber,  to  read 
on  their  countenance  what  had  taken  place.  Judging 
from  the  emotion  depicted  on  their  features  that  the 
struggle  had  been  severe,  he  thought  that  his  father 
was  incurring  the  greatest  dangers,  and,  accordingly, 
grasping  him  by  the  hand,  dragged  him  to  the  stair- 
case of  the  palace,  exclaiming  in  aifright,  as  if  Charles's 
satellites  were  already  at  his  heels,  "  Come,  come 
quickly ! " 

Charles,  who  had  expected  no  such  resistance,  was, 
in  truth,  confounded,  and  the  legate  endeavoured  to 
exasperate  him  still  more.  Agitated,  filled  with  anger 
and  vexation,  and  uttering  the  most  terrible  threats, 
the  young  emperor  paced  hastily  to  and  fro  the  halls 
of  his  palace ;  and  unable  to  wait  for  the  answer  until 
the  morrow,  he  sent  in  the  middle  of  the  night  to  de- 
mand the  elector's  final  decision.  "At  present  we 
require  sleep,"  replied  the  latter ;  "  to-morrow  we  will 
let  you  know  our  determination."  As  for  the  land- 
grave, he  could  not  rest  any  more  than  Charles. 
Scarcely  had  he  returned  home,  when  he  sent  his 
chancellor  to  the  Nuremberg  deputies,  and  had  them 
awoke,  to  make  them  acquainted  with  what  had  taken 
place. 

At  the  same  time  Charles's  demand  was  laid  before 
the  theologians,  and  Spalatin,  taking  the  pen,  drew  up 
their  opinion  during  the  night.  "The  sacrament,"  it 
bore,  "was  not  instituted  to  be  worshipped,  as  the 
Jews  worshipped  the  brazen  image.  We  are  here  to 
confess  the  truth,  and  not  for  the  confirmation  of 
abuses.  Let  us  therefore  stay  away!"  This  opinion 
confirmed  the  evangelical  princes  in  their  determina- 
tion ;  and  the  day  of  the  16th  June  began. 

The  Elector  of  Saxony,  feeling  indisposed  dm-ing  the 
night,  commissioned  his  son  to  represent  him;  and  at 
seven  o'clock  the  princes  and  councillors  repaired  on 
horseback  to  the  emperor's  palace. 

The  Margrave  of  Brandenburg  was  their  spokes- 
man. "You  know,"  said  he  to  Charles,  "how,  at  the 
risk  of  our  lives,  my  ancestors  and  myself  have  sup- 
ported your  august  house.  But,  in  the  things  of  God, 
the  commands  of  God  himself  oblige  me  to  put  aside 
all  commandment  of  man.  We  are  told  that  death 
awaits  those  who  shall  persevere  in  the  sound  doctrine: 
I  am  ready  to  suffer  it."  He  then  presented  the  decla- 
ration of  the  evangelical  princes  to  the  emperor.  "  We 
will  not  countenance  by  our  presence,"  said  they,  "these 
impious  human  traditions,  which  are  opposed  to  the 
Word  of  God.  We  declare,  on  the  contraiy,  without 
hesitation,  and  with  one  accord,  that  we  must  expel 
them  from  the  Church,  lest  those  of  its  members  that 
are  still  sound  should  be  infected  by  this  deadly  poison." 
"  If  you  will  not  accompany  his  majesty  for  the  love 
of  God,"  said  Ferdinand,  "  do  so,  at  least,  for  the  love 
of  the  emperor,  and  as  vassals  of  the  empire.  His 
majesty  commands  you."  "An  act  of  worship  is  in 
(piestion,"  replied  the  princes,  "  our  conscience  forbids 
it."  Then  Ferdinand  and  Charles  having  conversed 
together  in  a  low  tone :  "  His  majesty  desires  to  see," 
said  the  king,  "  whether  you  will  obey  him  or  not." 
At  the  same  time  the  emperor  and  his  brother  quitted 
the  room;  but  the  princes,  instead  of  following  him  as 
Charles  had  hoped,  returned  full  of  joy  to  their  palaces. 


The  procession  did  not  b«gin  till  noon.  Immediately 
behind  the  canopy,  under  which  the  Elector  of  Mentz 
carried  the  host,  came  the  emperor  alone,  with  a 
devout  air,  bearing  a  taper  in  his  hand,  his  head  bare 
and  shorn  like  a  priest's,  although  the  noon-day  sun 
darted  on  him  its  most  ardent  rays.  By  exposing 
himself  to  these  fatigues,  Charles  desired  to  profess 
aloud  his  faith  iu  what  constitutes  the  essence  of 
Roman  Catholicism.  In  proportion  as  the  spirit  and 
the  life  had  escaped  from  the  primitive  churches,  they 
had  striven  to  replace  it  by  forms,  shows,  and  cere- 
monies. The  essential  cause  of  tho  Romish  worship 
is  found  in  that  decline  of  charity  and  faith  which 
catholic  Christians  of  the  first  ages  have  often  deplored ; 
and  the  history  of  Rome  is  summed  up  in  this  expres- 
sion of  St.  Paul,  Having  a  form  of  godliness,  hut  denying 
the  power  thereof,  (2  Timothy  iii.  5.)  But  as  thejMwer 
was  then  beginning  to  revive  in  the  Church,  the  form 
began  also  to  decline.  Barely  a  hundred  citizens  of 
Augsburg  had  joined  in  the  procession  of  the  IGth 
Juue.  It  was  no  longer  the  pomp  of  former  times : 
the  Christian  people  had  learned  anew  to  love  and  to 
believe. 

Charles,  however,  under  an  air  of  devotion,  concealed 
a  wounded  heart.  The  legate  was  less  able  to  com- 
mand himself,  and  said  aloud  that  this  obstinacy  of  the 
princes  would  be  the  cause  of  great  mischief  to  the 
pope.  When  the  procession  was  over,  (it  had  lasted 
an  hour,)  Charles  could  no  longer  master  his  extreme 
irritation  ;  and  he  had  scarcely  returned  to  his  palace, 
when  he  declared  that  he  would  give  the  Protestant 
princes  a  safe-conduct,  and  that  on  the  very  next  day 
these  obstinate  and  rebellious  men  should  quit  Augs- 
burg; the  diet  would  then  take  such  resolutions  as 
were  required  for  the  safety  of  the  Church  and  of  the 
empire.  It  was,  no  doubt,  the  legate  who  had  given 
Charles  this  idea,  which,  if  executed,  would  infallibly 
have  led  to  a  religious  war.  But  some  of  the  princes 
of  the  Roman  party,  desirous  of  preserving  peace,  suc- 
ceeded, though  not  without  difficulty,  in  getting  the 
emperor  to  withdi'aw  his  threatening  order, 


CHAPTER  V. 

The  Sermons  Prohibited— Compromise  Proposed  and  Accepted— The  Herald 
—Curiosity  of  the  Citizens— The.  New  Preacliers— Tlie  Medley  of  Popery 
— Lutlier  encourages  the  Princes — Vciii  Sinritus — Mass  of  the  Holy 
Ghost— The  Sermon— Opening  of  the  Diet— The  Elector's  Prayer— In- 
sidious Plan  of  the  Komanists- Valdez  and  Melancthon— No  Public 
Diseussiuu— EvangeUcal  Firmness  prevails. 

Charles,  being  defeated  on  the  subject  of  the  proces- 
sion, resolved  to  take  his  revenge  on  the  assemblies,  for 
nothing  galled  liim  like  these  sermons.  The  crowd 
ceased  not  to  fill  the  vast  church  of  the  Franciscans, 
where  a  Zwinglian  minister  of  lively  aud  penetrating 
eloquence  was  preaching  on  the  Book  of  Joshua.  He 
placed  the  kings  of  Canaan  and  the  children  of  Israel 
before  them :  his  congregation  heard  them  speak  and 
saw  them  act,  aud  every  one  recognised  iu  the  kings 
of  Canaan  the  emperor  and  the  ultramontane  princes. 


A  COMPROMISE  PROPOSED  AND  ACCEPTED. 


and  in  the  people  of  God  the  adherents  of  tlie  Refoi-- 
niation.  In  consequence,  his  hearers  quitted  the  church 
enthusiastic  in  their  faitli,  and  filled  witii  the  desire  of 
seeing  the  abominations  of  the  idolaters  fall  to  the 
ground.  On  tiie  IGth  June,  the  Protestants  delibe- 
rated on  Charles's  demand,  and  it  was  rejected  by  the 
majority.  "It  is  only  a  scarecrow,"  said  they,  "the 
Papists  only  desire  to  see  if  the  nail  shakes  in  tlie  wall, 
and  if  they  can  start  the  hare  from  the  thicket." 

The  next  morning  (17th  June)  before  breakfast,  the 
princes  replied  to  the  emperor.  "  To  forbid  our  minis- 
ters to  ])reach  purely  the  holy  Gospel,  would  be  rebel- 
lion against  God,  who  wills  not  that  His  "Word  be 
bound.  Poor  sinners  that  we  are,  we  have  need  of 
this  Divine  Word  to  surmount  our  troubles.  More- 
over, his  majesty  has  declared,  that  in  this  diet  each 
doctrine  should  be  examined  with  impartiality.  Now, 
to  order  us  henceforward  to  suspend  the  sermons,  would 
be  to  condemn  ours  beforehand." 

Charles  immediately  convoked  the  other  temporal 
and  spiritual  princes,  who  arrived  at  mid-day  at  the 
palatine  palace,  and  remained  sitting  until  the  evening; 
the  discussion  was  exceedingly  animated.  "  Tliis  very 
morning,"  said  some  of  the  speakers,  "  the  Protestant 
princes,  as  they  quitted  the  emperor,  had  sermons  de- 
livered in  public."  Exasperated  at  this  new  affront, 
Charles  with  difficulty  contained  himself.  Some  of 
the  princes,  however,  entreated  him  to  accept  their 
mediation,  to  which  he  consented;  but  the  Protestants 
were  immoveable.  Did  these  heretics,  whom  they 
imagined  to  reduce  so  easily,  appear  in  Augsburg  only 
to  humiliate  Charles '?  The  honour  of  the  chief  of  the 
empire  must  be  saved  at  any  cost.  "  Let  us  ourselves 
renounce  our  preachers,"  said  the  princes ;  "  the  Pro- 
testants will  not  then  persist  in  keeping  theirs  ! " 

The  committee,  accordingly,  proposed  that  the  em- 
peror should  set  aside  both  l?apist  and  Lutheran 
preachers,  and  should  nominate  a  few  chaplains,  with 
authority  to  announce  the  pure  Word  of  God,  without 
attacking  either  of  the  two  parties.  "They  shall  be 
neutral  men,"  said  they  to  the  Protestants;  neither 
Faber  nor  his  partisans  shall  be  admitted." — "But  they 
will  condemn  our  doctrine." — "By  no  means.  The 
preacher  shall  do  nothing  but  read  the  text  of  the 
Gospels,  Epistles,  and  a  general  confession  of  sins." 
The  evangelical  states  required  time  to  reflect  upon  it. 

"We  must  accept  it,"  said  Melancthon;  "for  if  our 
obstinacy  should  lead  the  emperor  to  refuse  hearing 
our  confession,  the  evil  would  be  greater  still." 

"We  are  called  to  Augsburg,"  said  Agricola,  "to 
give  an  account  of  our  doctrine,  and  not  to  preach." 

"There  is  no  little  disorder  in  the  city,"  remark- 
ed Spalatiu.  "The  Sacramentarians  and  Enthusiasts 
preach  here  as  well  as  we:  we  must  get  out  of  this 
confusion." 

"What  do  the  Papists  propose?"  said  other  theo- 
logians; "to  read  the  Gospels  and  Epistles  without 
explanation.  But  is  not  that  a  victory?  What !  we 
protest  against  the  interpretations  of  the  Church ; 
and,  lo!  priests  who  are  to  read  the  Word  of  God 
without  their  notes  and  commentaries, — that  is  to  say, 
transforming  themselves  into  Protestant  ministers  ! " — 
"Oh!  admirable  wisdom  of  the  coui-tiersl"  exclaimed 
Melancthon,  smiling. 


To  these  motives  were  added  the  opinions  of  the 
lawyers.  As  the  emperor  ought  to  be  considered  the 
rightfid  magistrate  of  an  imperial  city,  so  long  as  he 
made  it  his  residence,  all  jurisdiction  in  Augsburg 
really  belonged  to  him. 

"  Well,  then,"  said  the  Protestant  princes,  "  we  agree 
to  silence  our  preachers,  in  the  liope  that  we  shall  hear 
nothing  offensive  to  our  consciences.  If  it  were  other- 
wise, we  should  feel  ourselves  constrained  to  repel  so 
serious  an  insult.  Besides,"  added  the  elector,  as  he 
withdrew,  "we  expect  that  if  at  any  time  we  desire  to 
hear  one  of  our  chaplains  in  our  own  palace,  we  shall 
be  free  to  do  so." 

They  hastened  to  the  emperor,  who  desired  nothing 
better  than  to  come  to  an  understanding  with  the  Pro- 
testants on  this  subject,  and  who  ratilied  everything. 

This  was  Saturday.  An  imperial  herald  was  imme- 
diately sent  out,  wlio,  parading  the  streets  of  the  city 
at  seven  in  the  evening  to  the  sound  of  trumpets,  made 
the  following  proclamation : — "  Oh  yes,  oh  yes  !  Thus 
ordains  his  imperial  majesty,  our  most  gracious  lord: 
no  one  shall  be  allowed  to  preach  in  Augsburg  except 
by  his  majesty's  nomination,  uudcr  penalty  of  incur- 
ring the  displeasure  and  punishment  of  his  majesty." 

A  thousand  different  remarks  were  exchanged  in 
the  houses  of  the  citizens  of  Augsbiu-g.  "  We  were 
very  impatient,"  said  they,  "to  see  the  preachers 
apjjointed  by  the  emperor,  and  who  will  preach,  (Oil! 
unprecedented  wonder!)  neither  against  the  evangelical 
doctrine  nor  against  the  doctrine  of  the  pope  !"  "We 
must  expect,"  added  another,  "to  behold  some  Tra- 
gelaph  or  some  chimera,  with  the  head  of  a  lion,  a 
goat's  body,  and  a  dragon's  tail."  The  Spaniards 
appeared  well  satisfied  with  this  agreement,  for  many 
of  them  had  never  heard  a  single  sermon  in  theii-  lives ; 
it  was  not  the  custom  in  Spain ;  but  Zwiugle's  friends 
were  filled  with  indignation  and  alarm. 

At  length  Sunday,  the  19th  June,  arrived ;  every  one 
hasteued  to  the  chiu'ches,  and  the  people  who  filled 
them,  with  eyes  fixed  on  the  priest,  and  with  attentive 
ears,  prepared  to  listen  to  what  these  new  and  strange 
preachers  would  say.  It  w;is  generally  believed  that 
their  task  would  be  to  make  an  evangelico-papistical 
discourse,  and  they  were  very  impatient  to  hear  this 
marvel.     But 

"The  mountain  in  labour  gave  bii-th  to  a  mouse  I" 

The  preacher  first  read  the  common  prayer;  he  then 
added  the  Gospel  of  the  day,  finished  with  a  general 
confession  of  sins,  and  dismissed  his  congregation. 
People  looked  at  one  anotlier  in  surprise :  "  Verily," 
said  they,  "  here  is  a  preacher  that  is  neither  Gospeller 
nor  Papist,  but  strictly  textual."  At  last  all  burst  into 
laughter;  "and  truly,"  adds  Brentz,  "there  was  reason 
enough."  In  some  churches,  however,  the  chaplains, 
after  reading  the  Gospel,  added  a  few  puerile  words, 
void  of  Christianity  and  of  consolation,  and  in  no  way 
founded  on  the  Holy  Scripture. 

After  the  so-called  sermon,  they  proceeded  to  the 
mass.  That  in  the  cathedi-al  was  particiUarly  noisy. 
The  emperor  was  not  present,  for  he  was  accustomed 
to  sleep  until  nine  or  ten  o'clock,  and  a  late  mass  was 
performed  for  him ;  but  Ferdinand  and  many  of  the 
princes  were  present.  The  pealing  notes  of  the  organ, 
the  resounding  voices  of  the  choii-,  echoed  through  the 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORM  A.TION. 


minster,  and  a  numerous  and  motley  crowd,  rushing  in 
at  all  the  doors,  filled  the  aisles  of  the  temple.  One 
might  have  said  that  every  nation  in  the  world  had 
agreed  to  meet  in  the  cathedral  of  Augsburg.  Here 
were  Frenchmen,  there  Spaniards,  Moors  in  one  place, 
Moriscos  in  another,  on  one  side  Italians,  on  the  other 
Turks,  and  even,  says  Breutz,  those  who  are  called 
Stratiots.  This  crowd  was  no  bad  representation  of 
the  medley  of  Popery. 

One  priest  alone,  a  fervent  Romanist,  dared  to  offer 
an  apology  for  the  mass  in  the  church  of  the  Holy 
Cross.  Charles,  wishing  to  maintain  his  authority, 
had  him  thrown  into  the  Greyfriars'  prison,  whence 
they  contrived  to  let  him  escape.  As  for  the  evan- 
gelical pastors  of  Augsburg,  almost  all  left  the  city  to 
hear  the  Gospel  elsewhere.  The  Protestant  princes 
were  anxious  to  secure  for  their  churches  the  assist- 
ance of  such  distinguished  men.  Discouragement  and 
alarm  followed  close  upon  this  step,  and  even  the 
firmest  were  moved.  The  elector  was  inconsolable  at 
the  privation  imposed  upon  him  by  the  emperor. 
"  Our  Lord  God,"  said  he,  heaving  a  deep  sigh,  "has 
received  an  order  to  be  silent  at  the  Diet  of  Augsburg." 
From  that  time  forward  Luther  lost  the  good  opinion 
he  had  previously  entertained  of  Charles,  and  foreboded 
the  stormiest  future.  "  See  what  will  be  the  end  of 
all  this,"  said  he.  "The  emperor,  who  has  ordered 
the  elector  to  renounce  the  assemblies,  will  afterwards 
command  him  to  renounce  the  doctrine ;  the  diet  will 
enter  upon  its  paroxysm,  and  nothing  will  remain  for 
us  but  to  rely  upon  the  arm  of  the  Lord."  Then,  giving 
way  to  all  his  indignation,  he  added :  "  The  Papists, 
abandoned  to  devils,  are  transported  with  rage ;  and 
to  live  they  must  drink  blood.  They  wish  to  give 
themselves  an  air  of  justice,  by  giving  us  one  of  obsti- 
nacy. At  Augsburg  you  have  not  to  deal  with  men, 
but  with  the  very  gates  of  hell."  Melancthon  himself 
saw  his  hopes  vanish.  "All,  except  the  emperor," 
said  he,  "  hate  us  with  the  most  violent  hatred.  The 
danger  is  great,  very  great.  .  .  .  Pray  to  Christ 
that  He  may  save  us  ! "  But  Luther,  however  full  of 
sorrow  he  might  he,  far  from  being  cast  down,  raised 
his  head  and  endeavoured  to  reanimate  the  courage  of 
his  brethren.  "  Be  assured  and  doubt  not,"  wrote  he 
to  them,  "  that  you  are  the  confessors  of  Jesus  Christ, 
and  the  ambassadors  of  the  Great  King." 

They  had  need  of  these  thoughts,  for  their  adver- 
saries, elated  by  this  first  success,  neglected  nothing 
that  might  destroy  the  Protestants,  and,  taking  another 
step  forward,  proposed  forcing  them  to  be  present  at 
the  Romish  ceremonies.  "  The  Elector  of  Saxony," 
said  the  legate  to  Charles,  "ought,  in  vii'tue  of  his 
office  of  grand-marshal  of  the  empire,  to  carry  the 
sword  before  you  in  all  the  ceremonies  of  the  diet. 
Order  him,  therefore,  to  perform  his  duty  at  the  mass 
of  the  Holy  Ghost,  which  is  to  open  the  sittings."  The 
emperor  did  so  immediately,  and  the  elector,  uneasy  at 
this  message,  called  together  his  theologians.  If  he 
refused,  his  dignity  would  be  taken  away;  aud  if  he 
obeyed,  he  would  trample  his  faith  under  foot,  (thought 
he,)  and  would  do  dishonour  to  the  Gospel. 

But  the  Lutheran  divines  removed  the  scruples  of 
their  prince.  "  It  is  for  a  ceremony  of  the  empire,"  said 
they,  "  as  grand-marshal,  and  not  as  a  Christian,  that 


you  are  summoned;  the  "Word  of  God  itself,  in  the 
history  of  Naaman,  authorizes  you  to  comply  with  this 
invitation."  The  friends  of  Zwingle  did  not  think  so ; 
their  walk  was  more  decided  than  that  of  Wittemberg. 
"  The  martyrs  allowed  themselves  to  be  put  to  death," 
said  they,  "  rather  than  burn  a  grain  of  incense  before 
the  idols."  Even  some  of  the  Protestants,  hearing  that 
the  Veni  Spiritus  was  to  be  sung,  said,  wagging  their 
heads :  "  We  are  very  much  afraid  that  the  chariot  of 
the  Spirit,  which  is  the  Word  of  God,  having  been 
taken  away  by  the  Papists,  the  Holy  Ghost,  despite 
their  mass,  will  never  reach  Augsburg."  Neither 
these  fears  nor  these  objections  were  listened  to. 

On  Monday,  the  20th  June,  the  emperor  and  his 
brother,  with  the  electors  and  princes  of  the  empire, 
having  entered  the  cathedral,  took  their  seats  on  the 
right  side  of  the  choir;  on  the  left  were  placed  the 
legate,  the  archbishops,  and  bishops ;  in  the  middle 
were  the  ambassadors.  Without  the  choir,  in  a  gallery 
that  overlooked  it,  were  ranged  the  landgrave  and 
other  Protestants,  who  preferred  being  at  a  distance 
from  the  host.  The  elector,  bearing  the  sword,  re- 
mained upright  near  the  altar  at  the  moment  of  the 
adoration.  The  acolytes,  having  closed  the  gates  of 
the  choir  immediately  after,  Vincent  Pompinello,  arch- 
bishop of  Salerno,  preached  the  sermon.  He  com- 
menced with  the  Turks  and  their  ravages,  and  then,  by 
an  unexpected  turn,  began  suddenly  to  exalt  the  Turks 
even  above  the  Germans.  "The  Turks,"  said  he, 
"have  but  one  prince  whom  they  obey;  but  the 
Germans  have  many  who  obey  no  one.  The  Turks 
live  under  one  sole  law,  one  only  custom,  one  only 
religion  ;  but  among  the  Germans  there  are  some  who 
are  always  wishing  for  new  laws,  new  customs,  new 
religions.  They  tear  the  seamless  coat  of  Christ ;  they 
abolish,  by  devilish  inspirations,  the  sacred  doctrines 
established  by  unanimous  consent,  and  substitute  for 
them,  alas  !  buffoonery  and  obscenity.  Magnanimous 
emperor,  powerful  king ! "  said  he,  turning  towards 
Charles  and  his  brother,  "sharpen  your  swords,  wield 
them  against  these  perfidious  disturbers  of  religion, 
and  thus  bring  them  back  into  the  fold  of  the  Church. 
There  is  no  peace  for  Germany  so  long  as  the  sword 
shall  not  have  entirely  eradicated  this  heresy.  O  St. 
Peter  and  St.  Paul !  I  call  upon  you ;  upon  you,  St. 
Peter,  in  order  that  you  may  open  the  stony  hearts  of 
these  princes  with  your  keys ;  and  upon  you,  St.  Paul, 
that  if  they  shew  themselves  too  rebellious,  you  may 
come  with  your  sword,  and  cut  in  pieces  this  unex- 
ampled hardness ! " 

This  discourse,  intermingled  with  panegyrics  of 
Aristides,  Themistocles,  Scipio,  Cato,  the  Curtii,  and 
Sca3vola,  being  concluded,  the  emperor  and  princes 
arose  to  make  their  offerings.  Pappenheim  returned 
the  sword  to  the  elector,  who  had  intrusted  it  to  him ; 
and  the  grand-marshal,  as  well  as  the  margrave,  went 
to  the  offertory,  but  with  a  smile,  as  it  is  reported. 
This  fact  is  but  little  in  harmony  with  the  character  of 
these  princes. 

At  length  they  quitted  the  cathedral.  No  one, 
except  the  friends  of  the  nuncio,  was  pleased  with  tlie 
sermon.  Even  the  Archbishop  of  Mentz  was  offended 
at  it.  "What  does  he  mean,"  exclaimed  he,  "by  call- 
ing on  St.  Paul  to  cut  the  Germans  with  his  sword '?" 


VALDEZ  AND  MELANCTHON. 


Nothing  but  a  few  inarticulate  sounds  had  been  heard 
in  the  nave;  tlic  Protestants  eagerly  questioned  those 
of  their  party  who  had  been  present  in  the  choir. 
"The  more  these  priests  inflame  people's  minds,  and 
the  more  they  urge  their  princes  to  bloody  wars,"  said 
Brentz  at  that  time,  "  the  more  we  must  hinder  ours 
from  giving  way  to  violence."  Thus  spoke  a  minister 
of  the  Gospel  of  peace  after  the  sermon  of  the  priests 
of  Rome. 

After  the  mass  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  the  emperor 
entered  his  carriage,  and  having  reached  the  town-hall, 
where  the  sittings  of  the  diet  were  to  take  place,  took 
his  seat  on  a  throne  covered  with  cloth  of  gold,  while 
his  brother  placed  himself  on  a  bench  in  front  of  him ; 
then  all  around  them  were  ranged  the  electors,  forty- 
two  sovereign  princes,  the  deputies  from  the  cities,  the 
bishops,  and  ambassadors,  forming  indeed  that  illus- 
trious assembly  which  Luthei",  six  weeks  before,  had 
imagined  he  saw  sitting  in  the  air. 

The  count-palatine  read  the  imperial  proposition. 
It  referred  to  two  points :  the  war  against  the  Turks, 
and  the  religious  controversy.  "  Sacrificing  my  pri- 
vate injuries  and  interests  to  the  common  good,"  said 
the  emperor,  "  I  have  quitted  my  hereditary  kingdoms, 
to  pass,  not  without  great  danger,  into  Italy,  and  from 
thence  to  Germany.  I  have  heard,  with  sorrow,  of 
the  divisions  that  have  broken  out  here,  and  which, 
striking  not  only  at  the  imperial  majesty,  but  still  more 
at  the  commandments  of  Almighty  God,  must  engen- 
der pillage,  conflagration,  war,  and  death."  At  one 
o'clock  the  emperor,  accompanied  by  all  the  princes, 
returned  to  his  palace. 

On  the  same  day  the  elector  gathered  around  him 
all  his  co-religionists,  whom  the  emperor's  speech  had 
greatly  excited,  and  exhorted  them  not  to  be  turned 
aside  by  any  threats  from  a  cause  which  was  that  of 
God  himself.  All  seemed  penetrated  with  this  expres- 
sion of  Scripture :  Speak  the  tvoi-d,  and  it  shall  not  stand; 
for  God  is  ivith  vs,  (Isa.  viii.  10.) 

The  elector  had  a  heavy  burden  to  bear.  Not  only 
had  he  to  walk  at  the  head  of  the  princes,  but  he  had 
further  to  defend  himself  against  the  enervating  influ- 
ence of  Melancthon.  Throughout  the  whole  of  the 
diet  this  prince  offers  to  our  notice  no  mere  abstraction 
of  the  state,  but  the  noblest  individuality.  Early  on 
Tuesday  morning,  feeling  the  necessity  of  that  invisible 
strength  which,  according  to  a  beautiful  figure  in  the 
Holy  Scriptures,  causes  us  to  ride  upon  the  high  places 
of  the  earth  ;  and  seeing,  as  was  usual,  his  domestics, 
his  councillors,  and  his  son,  assembled  around  him, 
John  begged  them  affectionately  to  withdraw.  He 
knew  that  it  was  only  by  kneeling  humbly  before  God 
that  he  could  stand  with  courage  before  Charles. 
Alone  in  his  chamber,  he  opened  and  read  the  Psalms: 
then  falling  on  his  knees,  he  offered  up  the  most  fer- 
vent prayer  to  God ;  next,  wishing  to  confirm  himself 
in  the  immoveable  fidelity  that  he  had  just  vowed  to 
the  Lord,  he  went  to  his  desk,  and  there  committed 
his  resolutions  to  writing.  Dolzig  and  Melancthon 
afterwards  saw  these  lines,  and  were  filled  with  ad- 
miration as  they  read  them. 

Being  thus  tempered  anew  in  heavenly  thoughts, 
John  took  up  the  imperial  proposition,  and  meditated 
over  it ;  then,  having  called  in  his  son  and  the  chan- 


cellor Bruck,  and  Melancthon  shortly  after,  they  all 
agreed  that  the  deliberations  of  the  diet  ought  to  com- 
mence with  the  affairs  of  religion ;  and  his  allies,  who 
were  consulted,  concurred  in  this  advice. 

The  legate  had  conceived  a  plan  diametrically  op- 
posed to  this.  He  desired  to  stitie  the  religious  ques- 
tion, and  for  this  end  required  that  the  princes  should 
examine  it  in  a  secret  committee.  The  evangelical 
Christians  entertained  no  doubt  that  if  the  truth  was 
proclaimed  in  the  great  council  of  the  nation,  it  would 
gain  the  victory;  but  the  more  they  desired  a  public 
confession,  the  more  it  was  dreaded  by  the  pope's 
friends.  The  latter  wished  to  take  their  adversaries 
by  silence,  without  confession,  without  discussion,  as 
a  city  is  taken  by  famine  without  fighting,  and  without 
a  storm  :  to  gag  the  Reformation,  and  thus  reduce  it  to 
powerlessness  and  death,  were  their  tactics.  To  have 
silenced  the  preachers  was  not  enough :  the  princes 
must  be  silenced  also.  They  wished  to  shut  up  the 
Reformation  as  in  a  dungeon,  and  there  leave  it  to  die, 
thinking  they  would  thus  get  rid  of  it  more  surely  than 
by  leading  it  to  the  scaffold. 

This  plan  was  well  conceived ;  it  now  remained  to 
be  put  in  execution,  and  for  that  purpose  it  was  neces- 
sary to  persuade  the  Protestants  that  such  a  method 
would  be  the  surest  for  them.  The  person  selected  for 
this  intrigue  was  Alphonso  Valdez,  secretary  to  Charles 
v.,  a  Spanish  gentleman,  a  worthy  individual,  and  who 
afterwards  shewed  a  leaning  towards  the  Reformation. 
Policy  often  makes  use  of  good  men  for  the  most  per- 
fidious designs.  It  was  decided  that  Valdez  should 
address  the  most  timid  of  the  Protestants — Melancthon. 

On  the  16th  or  17th  of  June,  immediately  after  the 
arrival  of  Charles,  Valdez  begged  Melancthon  to  call 
on  him.  "  The  Spaniards,"  said  he,  "  imagine  that  the 
Lutherans  teach  impious  doctrines  on  the  Holy  Trinity, 
on  Jesus  Christ,  on  the  blessed  Mother  of  God.  Ac- 
cordingly, they  think  they  do  a  more  meritorious  work 
in  killing  a  Lutheran  than  in  slaying  a  Turk." 

"  I  know  it,"  replied  Melancthon,  "  and  I  have  not 
yet  been  able  to  succeed  in  making  your  fellow-country- 
men abandon  that  idea." 

"But  what,  pray,  do  the  Lutherans  desire?" 

"  The  Lutheran  question  is  not  so  complicated  and 
so  unseemly  as  his  majesty  fancies.  We  do  not  attack 
the  Catholic  Church,  as  is  commonly  believed ;  and  the 
whole  controversy  is  reducible  to  these  three  points : 
the  two  kinds  in  the  sacrament  of  the  Lord's  Supper, 
the  marriage  of  pastors,  and  the  abolition  of  private 
masses.  If  we  could  agree  on  these  articles,  it  would 
be  easy  to  come  to  an  understanding  on  the  others." 

"  Well,  I  will  report  this  to  his  majesty." 

Charles  V.  was  charmed  at  this  communication. 
"  Go,"  said  he  to  Valdez,  "  and  impart  these  things  to 
the  legate,  and  ask  Master  Philip  to  transmit  to  you  in 
writing  a  short  exposition  of  what  they  believe,  and 
what  they  deny." 

Valdez  hastened  to  Campeggio.  "  What  you  relate 
pleases  me  tolerably,"  said  the  latter.  "  As  for  the  two 
kinds  in  the  sacrament,  and  the  marriage  of  priests, 
there  will  be  the  means  of  accommodation  ;  but  we 
cannot  consent  to  the  abolition  of  private  masses." 
This  would  have  been,  in  fact,  cutting  off  one  of  the 
greatest  revenues  of  the  Church. 


453 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


Ou  Saturday,  June  18,  Valdez  saw  Melancthou 
again.  "The  emperor  begs  of  you  a  moderate  and 
concise  exposition,"  said  he;  "and  he  is  persuaded  tliat 
it  will  be  more  advantageous  to  treat  of  this  matter 
briefly  and  privately,  avoiding  all  public  hearing  and 
prolix  discussion,  which  would  only  engender  anger 
and  division." — "Well,"  said  Melancthon,  "I  will 
reflect  upon  it." 

Melancthon  was  almost  won  over ;  a  secret  confer- 
ence agreed  better  with  his  disposition.  Had  he  not 
often  repeated  that  peace  should  be  sought  after  above 
all  things?  Thus  everything  induced  the  legate  to 
hope  that  a  public  struggle  would  be  avoided,  and  that 
he  might  be  content,  as  it  were,  to  send  mutes  against 
the  Keform,  and  strangle  it  in  a  dungeon. 

Fortunately  the  chancellor  and  the  Elector  Frederick 
did  not  think  fit  to  entertain  the  propositions  with 
which  Charles  had  commissioned  the  worthy  Valdez. 
The  resolution  of  these  lay  members  of  the  Church 
saved  it  from  the  false  step  its  doctors  were  about  to 
take ;  and  the  wiles  of  the  Italians  failed  against  evan- 
gelical firmness.  Melancthon  was  only  permitted  to 
lay  the  Confession  before  the  Spaniard,  that  he  might 
look  into  it;  and  in  despite  of  the  moderation  employed 
in  it,  Valdez  exclaimed :  "  These  words  ai-e  too  bitter, 
and  your  adversaries  will  never  put  up  with  them !" 
Thus  finished  the  legate's  mana5uvre. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Tho  Elector's  Zeal— The  Signing  of  the  Confession— Courage  of  the  Princes 
— Melauctlion's  Wealiness— The  Leg.ate's  Speech— Delays— The  Confes- 
sion in  Danger— The  Protestants  are  Firm— Melanctlion's  Despondency 
— Luthei-'s  Prayer  and  Anxiety— Luther's  Texts— His  Letter  to  Melanc- 
thon—Faitli. 

Chaeles,  compelled  to  resign  himself  to  a  public  sit- 
ting, ordered,  on  Wednesday,  22d  June,  that  the  elector 
and  his  allies  should  have  their  confession  ready  for 
the  ensuing  Friday.  The  Roman  party  were  also  in- 
vited to  present  a  conf essiou  of  faith ;  but  they  excused 
themselves,  saying  that  they  were  satisfied  with  the 
Edict  of  Worms. 

The  emperor's  order  took  the  Protestants  by  sur- 
prise, for  the  negotiations  between  Valdez  and  Melanc- 
thon had  prevented  the  latter  from  putting  the  finishing 
stroke  to  the  Confession.  It  was  not  copied  out  fair ; 
and  the  conclusions,  as  well  as  the  exordium,  were  not 
definitively  di-awu  up.  In  consequence  of  this,  the 
Protestants  begged  the  Archbishop  of  Mentz  to  obtain 
for  them  tho  delay  of  a  day;  but  their  petition  was 
refused.  They,  therefore,  laboured  incessantly,  even 
during  the  night,  to  correct  and  transcribe  the  Con- 
fession. 

On  Thursday,  23d  June,  all  the  Protestant  princes, 
deputies,  councillors,  and  theologians,  met  early  at  the 
elector's.  The  Confession  was  read  in  German,  and  all 
gave  their  adhesion  to  it,  except  the  landgrave  and  the 
Strasbm-gers,  who  required  a  change  in  the  article  on 
the  sacrament.     The  princes  rejected  their  demand. 

The  Elector  of  Saxony  was  already  preparing  to  sign 


it,  when  Melancthon  stopped  him:  he  feared  giving  too 
political  a  colouring  to  this  religious  business.  In  his 
idea  it  was  the  Church  that  should  appear,  and  not 
the  State.  "  It  is  for  the  theologians  and  ministers  to 
propose  these  things,"  said  he ;  "  let  us  reserve  for 
other  matters  the  authority  of  the  mighty  ones  of  the 
earth." — "  God  forbid  that  you  should  exclude  me," 
replied  the  elector ;  "  I  am  resolved  to  do  what  is 
right  without  troubling  myself  about  my  crown.  I 
desire  to  confess  the  Lord.  My  electoral  hat  and  my 
ermine  are  not  so  precious  to  me  as  the  cross  of  Jesus 
Christ.  I  shall  leave  on  earth  these  marks  of  my 
greatness ;  but  my  Master's  cross  will  accompany  me 
to  heaven." 

How  resist  such  Christian  language !  Melancthou 
gave  way. 

The  elector  then  approached,  signed,  and  handed  the 
pen  to  the  landgrave,  who  at  first  made  some  objec- 
tions ;  however,  the  enemy  was  at  the  door ;  was  this 
a  time  for  disunion?  At  last  he  signed,  but  with  a 
declaration  that  the  doctrine  of  the  Eucharist  did  not 
pleiise  him. 

The  margrave  and  Luneburg  having  joyfully  sub- 
scribed their  names,  Anlialt  took  the  pen  in  his  turn, 
and  said :  "  I  have  tilted  more  than  once  to  please 
others ;  now,  if  the  honour  of  my  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
requires  it,  I  am  ready  to  saddle  my  horse,  to  leave  my 
gootls  and  life  behind,  and  rush  into  eternity,  towards 
an  everlasting  crown."  Then,  having  signed,  this 
youthful  prince  said,  turning  to  the  theologians :  "  I 
would  rather  renounce  my  subjects  and  my  states, 
rather  quit  the  country  of  my  fathers  staff  in  hand, 
rather  gain  my  bread  by  cleaning  the  shoes  of  the 
foreigner,  than  receive  any  other  doctrine  than  that 
which  is  contained  in  this  Confession."  Nuremberg 
and  Reutlingen  alone  of  the  cities  subscribed  their 
signatures ;  and  all  resolved  on  demanding  of  the 
emperor  that  the  Confession  should  be  read  publicly. 

The  courage  of  the  princes  surprised  every  one. 
Rome  had  crushed  the  members  of  the  Church,  and 
had  reduced  them  to  a  herd  of  slaves,  whom  she 
dragged  silent  and  humiliated  behind  her :  the  Refor- 
mation enfranchised  them,  and  with  their  rights  it 
restored  to  them  theii-  duties.  The  priest  no  longer 
enjoyed  the  monopoly  of  religion ;  each  head  of  a 
family  again  became  priest  in  his  own  house;  and  all 
the  members  of  the  Chiu-ch  of  God  were  thencefor- 
ward called  to  the  rank  of  confessors.  The  laymen 
are  nothing,  or  almost  nothing,  in  the  sect  of  Rome; 
but  they  are  the  essential  portion  of  the  Church  of 
Jesus  Christ.  Wherever  the  priestly  spirit  is  estab- 
lished, the  Church  dies ;  wherever  laymen,  as  these 
Augsburg  princes,  understand  their  duty  and  their 
immediate  dependence  on  Christ,  the  Church  lives. 

The  evangelical  theologians  were  moved  by  the  de- 
votedness  of  the  princes.  "When  I  consider  their 
firmness  in  the  confession  of  the  Gospel,"  said  Brentz, 
"  the  colour  mounts  to  my  cheeks.  What  a  disgrace 
that  we,  who  are  only  beggars  beside  them,  are  so 
afraid  of  confessing  Christ!"  Brentz  was  then 
thinking  of  certain  towns,  particularly  of  Halle,  of 
which  he  was  pastor,  but  no  doubt  also  of  the  theo- 
logians. 

The  latter,   in  truth,   -without   being    deficient   in 


THE  CONFESSION  IN  DANGER. 


459 


(levotedncss,  were  sometimes  wanlinj;  in  courage. 
Melaiiethoii  was  in  constant  agitation;  he  ran  to 
and  fro,  slipping  in  everywhere,  (says  Cochloens  in  his 
Pliilippics,)  visiting  not  only  the  houses  and  mansions 
of  private  persons,  but  also  insinuating  himself  into 
the  palaces  of  cardinals  and  princes,  nay,  even  into  the 
court  of  the  emperor;  and,  whether  at  table  or  in 
conversation,  he  spared  no  means  of  pereuading  every 
person,  that  nothing  was  more  easy  than  to  restore 
peace  between  the  two  parties. 

One  day  he  was  with  the  Archbishop  of  Salzburg, 
who,  in  a  long  discourse,  gave  an  eloquent  description 
of  the  troubles  produced,  as  he  said,  by  the  Reforma- 
tion, and  ended  with  a  peroration,  "  written  in  blood," 
as  Melancthon  characterized  it.  Philip,  in  agony,  had 
ventured  during  the  conversation  to  slip  in  the  word 
conscience.  "Conscience!"  hastily  interrupted  the 
archbishop,  " Conscience !— What  does  that  mean? 
I  tell  you  plainly  that  the  emperor  will  not  allow  eon- 
fusion  to  be  thus  brought  upon  the  empire." — "Had  I 
been  in  Melancthon's  place,"  said  Luther,  "I  should 
have  immediately  rcjilied  to  the  archbishop:  And 
our  Emperor,  ours,  will  not  tolerate  such  blasphemy." 
— "Alas!"  said  Melancthon,  "they  are  all  as  full  of 
assurance  as  if  there  w.os  no  God." 

Another  day  Melancthon  was  with  Campeggio,  and 
conjured  him  to  persevere  in  the  moderate  sentiments 
he  appeared  to  entertain.  And  at  another  time,  as  it 
would  seem,  he  was  with  the  emperor  himself.  "Alas ! " 
said  the  alarmed  Zwinglians,  "after  having  qualified 
one-half  of  the  Gospel,  Melancthon  is  sacrificing  the 
other." 

The  wiles  of  the  Ultramontanists  were  added  to 
Philip's  dejection,  in  order  to  arrest  the  courageous 
proceedings  of  the  princes.  Friday,  24th  June,  was 
the  day  fixed  for  reading  the  Confession,  but  measures 
were  taken  to  prevent  it.  The  sitting  of  the  diet  did 
not  begin  till  three  in  the  afternoon ;  the  legate  was 
then  announced ;  Charles  went  to  meet  him  as  far  as 
the  top  of  the  grand  staircase,  and  Campeggio,  taking 
his  seat  in  front  of  the  emperor,  in  King  Ferdinand's 
pl.ace,  delivered  a  harangue  in  Ciceronian  stylo. 
"Never,"  said  he,  "has  St.  Peter's  bark  been  so 
^■iolently  tossed  by  such  various  waves,  whirlwinds, 
and  abysses.  The  holy  father  has  learnt  these  things 
with  pain,  and  desires  to  drag  the  Church  from  these 
frightful  gulfs.  For  the  love  of  Jesus  Christ,  for  the 
safety  of  your  countiy,  and  for  your  own,  O  mighty 
prince !  get  rid  of  these  errors,  deliver  Germany,  and 
save  Christendom!" 

After  a  temperate  reply  from  Albert  of  Mentz,  the 
legate  quitted  the  town-hall,  and  the  evangelical  princes 
stood  up ;  but  a  fresh  obstacle  had  been  provided. 
Deputies  from  Austria,  Cariuthia,  and  Carniola,  first 
received  a  hearing. 

Much  time  had  thus  elapsed.  The  evangelical 
princes,  however,  rose  up  again,  and  the  Chancellor 
Briick  said :  "  It  is  pretended  tliat  new  doctrines  not 
based  on  Scripture,  that  heresies  and  schisms,  are 
spread  among  the  people  by  us.  Considering  that  such 
accusations  compromise  not  only  our  good  name,  but 
also  the  safety  of  our  souls,  we  beg  his  majesty  will 
have  the  goodness  to  hear  what  are  the  doctrines  we 
profess." 


The  emperor,  no  doubt  by  arrangement  with  tho 
legate,  made  reply  that  it  was  too  late ;  besides,  that 
this  reading  would  be  useless ;  and  that  the  princes 
should  be  satisfied  with  putting  in  their  Confession  in 
writing.  Thus  the  mine,  so  skilfully  prepared,  worked 
admirably;  the  Confession,  once  handed  to  the  em- 
peror, would  be  thrown  aside,  and  the  Reformation 
would  be  forced  to  retire,  without  the  Papists  having 
even  condescended  to  hear  it,  without  defence,  and 
overwhelmed  with  contumely. 

The  Protestant  princes,  uneasy  and  agitated,  insisted. 
"  Our  honour  is  at  stake,"  said  they  ;  "  our  souls  are 
endangered.  We  are  accused  publicly;  publicly  we 
ought  to  answer."  Charles  was  shaken  ;  Ferdinand 
leant  towards  him,  and  whispered  a  few  words  in  his 
ear :  the  emperor  refused  a  second  time. 

Upon  this  the  elector  and  princes,  in  still  greater 
alarm,  said  for  the  third  time,  with  emotion  and 
earnestness :  "  For  the  love  of  God,  let  us  read  our 
Confession !  No  person  is  insulted  in  it."  Thus  were 
seen,  on  the  one  hand,  a  few  faithful  men,  desiring 
with  loud  cries  to  confess  their  faith ;  and  on  the 
other,  the  great  emperor  of  the  west,  suiTOunded  by  a 
crowd  of  cardinals,  prelates,  and  princes,  endeavouring 
to  stifle  the  manifestation  of  the  truth.  It  was  a  serious, 
violent,  and  decisive  struggle,  in  which  the  holiest  in- 
terests were  discussed ! 

At  last  Charles  appeared  to  yield:  "His  majesty 
grants  your  request,"  was  the  reply  to  the  princes; 
"but  as  it  is  now  too  late,  he  begs  you  to  transmit 
him  your  written  Confession,  and  to-morrow,  at  two 
o'clock,  the  diet  will  be  prepared  to  hear  it  read  at  the 
Palatine  Palace." 

The  princes  were  struck  by  these  words,  which, 
seeming  to  grant  them  everything,  in  reality  granted 
nothing.  In  the  first  place,  it  was  not  in  a  public 
sitting  at  the  town-hall,  but  privately  in  his  own 
palace,  that  the  emperor  was  willing  to  hear  them ; 
then  they  had  no  doubt  that  if  the  Confession  left  their 
hands  it  was  all  over  with  the  public  reading.  They 
therefore  remained  firm.  "  The  work  has  been  done 
in  great  haste,"  said  they,  and  it  was  the  ti-utli ;  "pray 
leave  it  with  us  to-night,  that  we  may  revise  it."  The 
emperor  was  obliged  to  yield,  and  the  Protestants  re- 
turned to  their  hotels  full  of  joy;  while  the  legate  and 
his  friends,  perceiving  that  the  Confession  was  inevit- 
able, saw  the  niOTrow  approach  with  continually  in- 
creasing anxiety. 

Among  those  who  prepared  to  confess  the  evangeli- 
cal truth,  was  one,  however,  whose  heart  was  filled 
with  sadness — it  was  Melancthon.  Placed  between 
two  fires,  he  saw  the  reformed,  and  many  even  of  his 
own  friends,  reproach  his  weakness ;  while  the  oppo- 
site party  detested  what  they  called  his  hypocrisy. 
His  friend  Camerarius,  who  visited  Augsburg  about 
this  time,  often  found  him  plunged  in  thought,  uttering 
deep  sighs,  and  shedding  bitter  tears.  Brentz,  moved 
with  compassion,  coming  to  the  unhappy  Philip,  would 
sit  down  by  his  side  and  weep  with  him ;  and  Jonas 
endeavoured  to  console  him  in  another  manner,  by 
exhorting  him  to  take  the  book  of  Psalms,  and  cry  to 
God  with  all  his  heart,  making  use  of  David's  words 
rather  than  of  his  own. 

One  day  intelligence  arrived  which  formed  a  general 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BEFOEMATION. 


topic  of  convei-sation  in  Augsburg,  and  whicli,  by 
spreading  terror  among  the  partisans  of  the  pope,  gave 
a  momentary  relief  to  Melancthon.  It  was  said  that  a 
mule  in  Rome  had  given  birth  to  a  colt  with  crane's 
feet.  "  This  prodigy,"  said  Melancthon,  thoughtfully, 
"  announces  that  Home  is  near  its  end ;"  perhaps  be- 
cause the  crane  is  a  bird  of  passage,  and  that  the  pope's 
mule  thus  gave  signs  of  departure.  Melancthon  had 
immediately  written  to  Luther,  who  replied  that  he 
was  exceedingly  rejoiced  that  God  had  given  the  pope 
so  striking  a  sign  of  his  approaching  fall.  It  is  good 
to  recall  to  memory  these  puerilities  of  the  age  of  the 
reformers,  that  we  may  better  understand  the  high 
range  of  these  men  of  God  in  matters  of  faith. 

These  idle  Roman  stories  did  not  long  console  Me- 
lancthon. On  the  eve  of  the  25th  of  June,  he  was  pre- 
sent, in  imagination,  at  the  reading  of  that  Confession 
which  he  had  drawn  up,  which  was  about  to  be  pro- 
claimed before  the  world,  and  in  which  one  word  too 
many  or  too  few  might  decide  on  the  approbation  or 
the  hatred  of  the  princes,  on  the  safety  or  ruin  of  the 
Reformation  and  of  the  empire.  He  could  bear  up  no 
longer,  and  the  feeble  Atlas,  crushed  under  the  burden 
of  the  world  upon  his  shoulders,  gave  utterance  to  a 
cry  of  anguish.  "  All  my  time  here  is  spent  in  tears 
and  mourning,"  wrote  he  to  Vitus  Diedrich,  Luther's 
secretary  in  the  castle  of  Coburg ;  and  on  the  morrow, 
he  wrote  to  Luther  himself :  "  My  dwelling  is  in  per- 
petual tears.  My  consternation  is  indescribable.  O 
my  father!  I  do  not  wish  my  words  to  exaggerate 
my  sorrows  ;  but  without  your  consolations  it  is  impos- 
sible for  me  to  enjoy  here  the  least  peace." 

Nothing,  in  fact,  presented  so  strong  a  contrast  to 
Melancthon's  distrust  and  dejection,  as  the  faith,  calm- 
ness, and  exultation,  of  Luther.  It  was  of  advantage 
to  him  that  he  was  not  then  in  the  midst  of  the  Augs- 
burg vortex,  and  to  be  able,  from  his  stronghold,  to  set 
his  foot  with  tranquility  upon  the  rock  of  God's  pro- 
mises. He  was  sensible  himself  of  the  value  of  this 
peaceful  hermitage,  as  he  called  it.  "I  cannot  suffi- 
ciently admire,"  said  Vitus  Diedrich,  "  the  firmness, 
cheerfulness,  and  faith,  of  this  man,  so  astonishing  in 
such  cruel  times." 

Luther,  besides  his  constant  reading  of  the  Word  of 
God,  did  not  pass  a  day  without  devoting  three  hours 
at  least  to  prayer,  and  they  were  hours  selected  from 
those  the  most  favourable  to  study.  One  day,  as  Die- 
drich approached  the  reformer's  chamber,  he  heard  his 
voice,  and  remained  motionless,  holding  his  breath,  a 
few  steps  from  the  door.  Luther  was  praying,  and  his 
prayer  (said  the  secretary)  was  full  of  adoration,  fear, 
and  hope,  as  when  one  speaks  to  a  friend  or  to  a 
father.  "  I  know  that  thou  art  our  Father  and  our 
God,"  said  the  reformer  alone  in  his  chamber,  "  and 
that  thou  wilt  scatter  the  persecutors  of  thy  chUdi-en, 
for  thou  art  thyself  endangered  with  us.  All  this 
matter  is  thine,  and  it  is  only  by  thy  constraint  that 
wc  have  put  our  hands  to  it.  Defend  us,  then,  O 
Father!"  The  secretary,  motionless  as  a  statue  in 
the  long  gaUery  of  the  castle,  lost  not  one  of  the  words 
that  the  clear  and  resounding  voice  of  Luther  bore  to 
his  eai-s.  The  reformer  was  earnest  with  God,  and 
called  upon  Him  with  such  unction  to  accomplish  His 
promises,  that  Diedrich  felt  his  heart  glow  within  him. 


"Oh!"  exclaimed  he,  as  he  retired,  "how  could  not 
these  prayers  but  prevail  in  the  desperate  struggle  at 
Augsburg !" 

Luther  might  also  have  allowed  himself  to  be  over- 
come with  fear,  for  he  was  left  in  complete  ignorance 
of  what  was  taking  place  in  the  diet.  A  Wittemberg 
messenger,  who  should  have  brought  him  forests  of 
letters,  (according  to  his  own  expression,)  having  pre- 
sented himself:  "Do  you  bring  any  letters?"  asked 
Luther. — "  No ! "  "  How  are  those  gentlemen  ?  " — 
"Well!"  Luther,  grieved  at  such  silence,  returned 
and  shut  himself  up  in  his  chamber. 

Erelong  there  appeared  a  courier  on  horseback 
carrying  despatches  from  the  elector  to  Torgau  :  "  Do 
you  bring  me  any  letter?"  asked  Luther. — "No!" 
"  How  are  those  gentlemen  ?"  continued  he,  fearfully. 
— "  Well !"  "  This  is  strange,"  thought  the  reformer. 
A  waggon  having  left  Coburg  laden  with  flour,  (for 
they  were  almost  in  want  of  provisions  at  Augsburg,) 
Luther  impatiently  awaited  the  return  of  the  driver; 
but  he  returned  empty.  Luther  then  began  to  revolve 
the  gloomiest  thoughts  in  his  mind,  not  doubting  that 
they  were  concealing  some  misfortune  from  him.  At 
last  another  individual,  Jobst  Nymptzen,  having  arrived 
from  Augsburg,  Luther  rushed  anew  towards  him,  with 
his  usual  question:  "Do  you  bring  me  any  letters?" 
He  waited  trembling  for  the  reply. — "No!"  "And 
how  are  those  gentlemen?" — "Well!"  The  reformer 
withdrew,  a  prey  to  anger  and  to  fear. 

Then  Luther  opened  his  Bible,  and  to  console  him- 
self for  the  silence  of  men,  conversed  with  God.  There 
were  some  passages  of  Scripture  in  particular  that  he 
read  continually.  We  point  them  out  below.'  He  did 
more ;  he  wrote  with  his  own  hand  many  declarations 
of  Scripture  over  the  doors  and  windows,  and  on  the 
walls  of  the  castle.  In  one  place  were  these  words 
from  the  11 8th  Psalm:  I  shall  not  die,  but  live,  and 
declare  the  ivories  of  the  Lord.  In  another,  those  of  the 
12th  chapter  of  Proverbs :  The  way  of  the  wicked  seduceth 
them;  and  over  his  bed,  this  passage  from  the  4th 
Psalm  :  /  ivill  lay  me  down  iyi  peace  and  sleep ;  for  thou, 

0  Lord,  only  makest  me  dwell  in  safety.  Never,  perhaps, 
did  man  so  environ  himself  with  the  promises  of  the 
Lord,  or  so  dwell  in  the  atmosphere  of  His  Word,  and 
live  by  His  breath,  as  Luther  at  Coburg. 

At  length  letters  came.  "  If  the  times  in  which  we 
live  were  not  opposed  to  it,  I  should  have  imagined 
some  revenge,"  wrote  Luther  to  Jonas ;  "  but  prayer 
checked  my  anger,  and  anger  checked  my  prayer.  I 
am  delighted  at  that  tranquil  mind  which  God  gives 
our  prince.  As  for  Melancthon,  it  is  his  philosophy 
that  tortures  him,  and  nothing  else.  For  our  cause  is 
in  the  very  hands  of  Him  who  can  say  with  unspeak- 
able dignity:  No  one  shall  pluck  it  out  of  my  hands.  I 
would  not  have  it  in  our  hands,  and  it  would  not  be 
desirable  that  it  were  so.  I  have  had  many  things  in 
my  hands,  and  I  have  lost  them  all ;  but  whatever  I 
have  been  able  to  place  in  God's,  I  still  possess." 

1  2  Tiin.  iiL  12;  Philip,  ii.  12,  13;  John  x.  17,  18;  Matt.  xvL  18;  Psalm 
xlvi.  1,  2;  IJohniv.  4;  Psalm  Iv.  23;  xxvii.  14;  John  xvi.  33:  Luke  xvii. 
6;  Psalm,  xxxii.  11;  cxlv.  18, 19;  xci.  14, 15;  Sirach  ii.  11;  I  Maccab.  II.  61; 
Matt.  vi.  31;  1  Peter  v.  6,  7;  Matt.  x.  28;  Eom.  iv.  and  vi.;  Heh.  v.  and  xi.; 

1  Sam.  iv.  18;  xxxl.  4-8;  ii.  30;  2  Tim.  u.  17-19;  i.  12;  Eph.  iii.  20,  21. 
Among  these  passages  will  be  obseiTed  two  verses  taken  from  the  Apocrypha, 
but  whose  equivalents  might  easily  be  found  in  the  Word  of  God. 


LUTHER  TO  MELANCTHON. 


461 


On  learning  that  Melancthon's  anguish  still  continued, 
Luther  wrote  to  him ;  and  these  are  the  words  that 
should  be  preserved : — 

"  Grace  and  peace  in  Christ ! — in  Christ,  I  say,  and 
not  in  the  world.  Amen.  I  hate  with  exceeding  hatred 
those  extreme  cares  which  consume  me.  If  the  cause 
is  unjust,  abandon  it ;  if  tlie  cause  is  just,  why  should 
we  belie  the  promises  of  Him  who  commands  us  to 
sleep  without  fear  ?  Can  the  devil  do  more  than  kill 
us  1  Christ  will  not  be  wanting  to  the  work  of  justice 
and  of  truth.  lie  lives ;  He  reigns ;  what  fear,  then, 
can  we  have  ?  God  is  powerful  to  upraise  His  cause 
if  it  is  overthrown,  to  make  it  proceed  if  it  remains 
motionless,  and  if  we  are  not  worthy  of  it,  He  will  do 
it  by  others. 

"  I  have  received  your  Apology,'  and  I  cannot  under- 
stand what  you  mean,  when  you  ask  what  we  must 
concede  to  the  Papists.  We  have  already  conceded 
too  much.  Night  and  day  I  meditate  ou  this  affair, 
turning  it  over  and  over,  diligently  searching  tiie  Scrip- 
tures, and  the  conviction  of  the  truth  of  our  doctrine 
every  day  becomes  stronger  in  my  mind.  With  the 
help  of  God  I  will  not  permit  a  single  letter  of  all  that 
•we  have  said  to  be  torn  from  us. 

"  The  issue  of  this  affair  torments  you,  because  you 
cannot  understand  it.  But  if  you  could,  I  would  not 
have  the  least  share  in  it.  God  has  put  it  in  a  '  com- 
mon place,'  that  you  will  not  find  either  in  your  rhetoric 
or  in  your  philosophy:  that  place  is  called  Faith.  It 
is  that  in  which  subsist  all  things  that  we  can  neither 
understand  nor  see.  Whoever  wishes  to  touch  them, 
as  you  do,  will  have  tears  for  his  whole  reward. 

"  If  Christ  is  not  with  us,  where  is  He  in  the  whole 
universe?  If  we  are  not  the  Church,  where,  I  pray, 
is  the  Church  ?  Is  it  the  dukes  of  Bavaria,  is  it 
Ferdinand,  is  it  the  pope,  is  it  the  Turk,  who  is  the 
Church?  If  we  have  not  the  Word  of  God,  who  is  it 
that  possesses  it '? 

"  Only  we  must  have  faith,  lest  the  cause  of  faith 
should  be  found  to  be  without  faith. 

"  If  we  fall,  Christ  falls  with  us,  that  is  to  say,  the 
Master  of  the  world.  I  would  rather  fall  with  Christ, 
than  remain  standing  with  Cffisar." 

Thus  wrote  Luther.  The  faith  which  animated  him 
flowed  from  him  like  torrents  of  living  water.  He 
was  indefatigable:  in  a  single  day  he  wrote  to  Me- 
lancthon,  Spalatin,  Brentz,  Agricola,  and  John  Frede- 
rick ;  and  they  were  letters  full  of  life.  He  was  not 
alone  in  praying,  speaking,  and  believing.  At  the 
same  moment,  the  evangelical  Christians  exhorted  one 
another  everywhere  to  prayer.  Such  was  the  arscn.'il 
in  which  the  weapons  were  forged  that  the  confessors 
of  Clirist  wielded  before  the  Diet  of  Augsburg. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

The  25th  June,  1530— The  Palatine  Chapel— Recollections  and  Contrast— 
The  Confession— Prologue— Justification— The  Church— Free  Will  and 
Works— Faith— Interest  of  the  Hearers- The  Princes  become  Preachers 
—The  Confession— Abuses— Church  and  State— The  Two  Governments 
—Epilogue— Argumentation— Prudence— Church  and  State— The  Sword 
—Moderate  Tone  of  the  Confession— Its  Defects— A  New  Baptism. 

At  length  the  25th  June  arrived.     This  was  destined 

1  The  Confession  revised  and  corrected. 


to  be  the  greatest  day  of  the  Reformation,  and  one  of 
the  most  glorious  in  the  history  of  Christianity  and  of 
mankind. 

As  the  chapel  of  the  Palatine  Palace,  where  the  em- 
peror had  resolved  to  hear  the  Confession,  could  con- 
tain only  about  two  hundred  persons,  before  three 
o'clock  a  great  crowd  was  to  be  seen  surrounding  the 
building  and  thronging  the  court,  hoping  by  this  means 
to  catch  a  few  words;  and  many  having  gained  en- 
trance to  the  chapel,  all  were  turned  out  except  those 
who  were,  at  least,  councillors  to  the  princes. 

Charles  took  his  seat  on  the  throne.  The  electors,  or 
their  representatives,  were  on  his  right  and  left  hand ; 
after  them,  the  other  princes  and  states  of  the  empire. 
The  legate  had  refused  to  appear  in  this  solemnity,  lest 
he  should  seem  by  his  presence  to  authorize  the  reading 
of  the  Confession. 

Then  stood  up  John,  the  elector  of  Saxony,  with 
his  son  John  Frederick,  Philip  landgrave  of  Hesse, 
the  Margrave  George  of  Brandenburg,  Wolfgang 
prince  of  Anhalt,  Ernest  duke  of  Brunswick-Lune° 
burg,  and  his  brother  Francis,  and  last  of  all,  the 
deputies  of  Nuremberg  and  Reutlingen.  Their  air 
was  animated,  and  their  features  radiant  with  joy. 
The  apologies  of  the  early  Christians,  of  Tertullian 
and  Justin  Martyr,  hardly  reached  in  writing  the 
sovereigns  to  whom  they  were  addressed.  But  now, 
to  hear  the  new  Apology  of  resuscitated  Christianity, 
behold  that  puissant  emperor,  whose  sceptre,  stretch- 
ing far  beyond  the  columns  of  Hercules,  reaches  the 
utmost  limits  of  the  world,  his  brother  the  King  of  the 
Romans,  with  electors,  princes,  prelates,  deputies,  am- 
bassadors, all  of  whom  desire  to  destroy  the  Gospel, 
but  who  are  constrained  by  an  invisible  power  to  listen, 
and,  by  that  very  listening,  to  honour  the  Confession ! 

One  thought  was  involuntarily  present  in  the  minds 
of  the  spectators, — the  recollection  of  the  Diet  of 
Worms.  Only  nine  years  before,  a  poor  monk  stood 
alone  for  this  same  cause  in  a  hall  of  the  town-house 
at  AVorms,  in  presence  of  the  empire.  And  now,  in 
his  stead,  behold  the  foremost  of  the  electors,  princes, 
and  cities  !  What  a  victory  is  declared  by  this  simple 
fact !  No  doubt  Charles  himself  cannot  escape  from 
this  recollection. 

The  emperor,  seeing  the  Protestants  stand  up, 
motioned  them  to  sit  down  ;  and  then  the  two  chan- 
cellors of  the  elector,  Bruck  and  Bayer,  advanced  to 
the  middle  of  the  chapel,  and  stood  before  the  throne, 
holding  in  their  hands,  the  former  the  Latin,  and  the 
other  the  German  copy  of  the  Confession.  The  em- 
peror required  the  Latin  copy  to  be  read.  "  We  are 
Germans,"  said  the  Elector  of  Saxony,  "  and  on 
German  soil ;  I  hope,  therefore,  your  majesty  wiU 
allow  us  to  speak  German."  If  the  Confession  had 
been  read  in  Latin,  a  language  unknown  to  most  of 
the  princes,  the  general  effect  would  have  been  lost. 
This  was  another  means  of  shutting  the  mouth  of  the 
Gospel.  The  emperor  complied  with  the  elector's  de- 
mand. 

Bayer  then  began  to  read  the  evangelical  Confession, 
slowly,  seriously,  distinctly,  with  a  clear,  strong,  and 
sonorous  voice,  which  re-echoed  under  the  aixhed  roof 
of  the  chapel,  and  carried  even  to  the  outside  this  great 
testimony  paid  to  the  truth. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


"  Most  serene,  most  mighty,  and  invincible  emperor, 
and  most  gracious  lord,"  said  he,  "  we  who  appear  in 
your  presence,  declare  ourselves  i-eady  to  confer  amic- 
ably with  you  on  the  fittest  means  of  restoring  one  sole, 
true,  and  same  faith,  since  it  is  for  one  sole  and  same 
Christ  that  we  fight.  And  in  case  that  these  religious 
dissensions  cannot  be  settled  amicably,  we  then  offer 
to  your  majesty  to  explain  our  cause  in  a  general,  free, 
and  Christian  council." 

This  prologue  being  ended,  Bayer  confessed  the 
Holy  Trinity,  conformably  with  the  Nicene  council, 
original  and  hereditary  sin,  "which  bringeth  eternal 
death  to  all  who  are  not  born  again,"  and  the  incarna- 
tion of  the  Son,  "  very  God  and  very  man." 

"  We  teach,  moreover,"  continued  he,  "  that  we 
cannot  be  justified  before  God  by  our  own  strength, 
our  merits,  or  our  works ;  but  that  we  are  justified 
freely  for  Christ's  sake  through  faith,  when  we  believe 
that  our  sins  are  forgiven  in  virtue  of  Christ,  who  by 
His  death  has  made  satisfaction  for  our  sins:  this 
faith  is  the  righteousness  that  God  imputeth  to  the 
sinner." 

"  But  we  teach,  at  the  same  time,  that  this  faith 
ought  to  bear  good  fruits,  and  that  we  must  do  all 
the  good  works  commanded  by  God,  for  the  love  of 
God,  and  not  by  their  means  to  gain  the  gi-ace  of 
God." 

The  Protestants  next  declared  their  faith  in  the 
Christian  Church,  "which  is,"  said  they,  "the  as- 
sembly of  all  true  believers  and  all  the  saints ; "  in  the 
midst  of  whom  there  are,  nevertheless,  in  this  life, 
many  false  Christians,  hypocrites  even,  and  manifest 
sinners ;  and,"  they  added,  "  that  it  is  sufficient  for 
the  real  unity  of  the  Church  that  they  agree  on  the 
doctrine  of  the  Gospel  and  the  administration  of  the 
sacraments,  without  the  rites  and  ceremonies  instituted 
by  men  being  everywhere  the  same."  They  proclaimed 
the  necessity  of  baptism,  and  declared  "  that  the  body 
and  blood  of  Christ  are  really  present  and  administered 
in  tiie  Lord's  Supper  to  those  who  partake  of  it." 

The  chancellor  then  successively  confessed  the  faith 
of  the  evangelical  Christians  touching  confession,  pen- 
ance, the  nature  of  the  sacraments,  the  government 
of  the  Church,  ecclesiastical  ordinances,  political 
government,  and  the  last  judgment.  "As  regards 
free  will,"  continued  he,  "  we  confess  that  man's  will 
has  a  certain  liberty  of  accomplishing  civil  justice,  and 
of  loving  the  things  that  reason  comprehends ;  that 
man  can  do  the  good  that  is  within  the  sphere  of 
nature — plough  his  fields,  eat,  drink,  have  a  friend, 
put  on  a  coat,  build  a  house,  take  a  wife,  feed  cattle, 
exercise  a  calling ;  as  also  he  can,  of  his  own  move- 
ment, do  evil,  kneel  before  an  idol,  and  commit 
murder.  But  we  maintain  that  without  the  Holy 
Ghost  he  cannot  do  what  is  righteous  in  the  sight  of 
God." 

Then,  returning  to  the  grand  doctrine  of  the  Refor- 
mation, and  recalling  to  mind  that  the  doctors  of  the 
pope  "have  never  ceased  impelling  the  faithful  to 
puerile  and  useless  works,  as  the  custom  of  chaplets, 
invocations  of  saints,  monastic  vows,  processions,  fasts, 
feast-days,  brotherhoods,"  the  Protestants  added,  that 
as  for  themselves,  while  lu-ging  the  practice  of  truly 
Christian  works,  of  which  little  had  been  said  before 


their  time,  "they  taught  that  man  is  justified  by 
faith  alone ;  not  by  that  faith  which  is  a  simple  know- 
ledge of  the  history,  and  which  wicked  men  and  even 
devils  possess ;  but  by  faith,  believes  not  only  the 
history,  but  also  the  effect  of  the  history,  which  be- 
lieves that  through  Chi-ist  we  obtain  gi-ace;  which  sees 
that  in  Christ  we  have  a  merciful  Father;  which 
knows  this  God ;  which  calls  upon  Him ;  in  a  word, 
which  is  not  without  God,  as  the  heathen  are." 

"  Such,"  said  Bayer,  "  is  a  summary  of  the  doctrine 
professed  in  our  churches,  by  which  it  may  be  seen 
that  this  doctrine  is  by  no  means  opposed  to  Scripture, 
to  the  xmiversal  Church,  nor  even  to  the  Romish 
Church,  such  as  the  doctors  describe  it  to  us ;  and 
since  it  is  so,  to  reject  us  as  heretics  is  an  offence 
against  unity  and  charity." 

Here  terminated  the  first  part  of  the  Confession,  the 
aim  of  which  was  to  explain  the  evangelical  doctrine. 
The  chancellor  read  with  so  distinct  a  voice,  that  the  ] 
crowd,  which  was  unable  to  enter  the  hall,  and  which 
filled  the  court  and  all  the  approaches  of  the  episcopal 
palace,  did  not  lose  a  word.  This  reading  produced 
the  most  marvellous  effect  on  the  princes  who  thronged  ! 
the  chapel.  Jonas  watched  every  change  in  their  , 
countenances,  and  there  beheld  interest,  astonishment, 
and  even  approbation,  depicted  by  turns.  "  The  adver- 
saries imagine  they  have  done  a  wonderful  thing  by 
forbidding  the  preaching  of  the  Gospel,"  wrote  Luther 
to  the  elector;  "and  they  do  not  see,  poor  creatures! 
that  by  the  reading  of  the  Confession  in  the  presence 
of  the  diet,  there  has  been  more  preaching  than  in  the 
sermons  of  ten  doctors.  Exquisite  subtlety!  admu-able 
expedient !  Master  Agricola  and  the  other  ministers 
are  reduced  to  silence ;  but  in  their  place  appear  the 
Elector  of  Saxony  and  the  other  princes  and  lords, 
who  preach  before  his  imperial  majesty  aud  the  mem- 
bers of  the  whole  empire,  freely,  to  their  beard,  and 
before  theii"  noses.  Yes,  Christ  is  in  the  diet,  and  He 
does  not  keep  silence  :  the  Word  of  God  cannot  he  bound. 
They  forbid  it  in  the  pulpit,  and  are  forced  to  hear  it 
in  the  palace ;  poor  ministers  caimot  announce  it,  and 
great  princes  proclaim  it ;  the  servants  are  forbidden  to 
listen  to  it,  and  their  masters  are  compelled  to  hear  it ; 
they  will  have  nothing  to  do  with  it  during  the  whole 
course  of  the  diet,  aud  they  are  forced  to  submit  to 
hear  more  in  one  day  than  is  heard  ordinarOy  in  a 
whole  year.  .  .  .  When  all  else  is  silent,  the  very 
stones  cry  out,  as  says  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ." 

That  part  of  the  Confession  destined  to  point  out 
errors  and  abuses  still  remained.  Bayer  continued : 
he  explained  and  demonstrated  the  doctrine  of  the  two 
kinds ;  he  attacked  the  compulsory  celibacy  of  priests, 
maintained  that  the  Lord's  Supper  had  been  changed 
into  a  regular  fair,  in  which  it  was  merely  a  question 
of  buying  and  selling,  and  that  it  had  been  re-estab- 
lished in  its  primitive  purity  by  the  Reformation,  and 
was  celebrated  in  the  evangelical  churches  with  entirely 
new  devotion  and  gravity.  He  declared  that  the  sacra- 
ment was  administered  to  no  one  who  had  not  first 
made  confession  of  his  faults ;  and  he  quoted  this  ex- 
pression of  Chrysostom:  "Confess  thyself  to  God  the 
Lord,  thy  real  Judge ;  tell  thy  sin,  not  with  the  tongue, 
but  in  thy  conscience  and  in  thy  heart." 

Bayer  next  came  to  the  precepts  on  the  distmction 


THE  CONFESSION  OF  AUGSBURG. 


463 


of  meats  and  other  Roman  usages,  "  Celebrate  such 
a  festival,"  said  he;  "repeat  such  a  prayer,  or  keep 
such  a  fast ;  be  dressed  in  such  a  maimer;  and  so  many 
other  ordinances  of  men — this  is  wluit  is  now  styled  a 
spiritual  aud  Christian  life ;  while  the  good  works  pre- 
scribed by  God,  as  those  of  a  father  of  a  family  who 
toils  to  support  his  wife,  his  sons,  aud  his  daughters — 
of  a  mother  who  brings  children  into  the  world,  aud 
takes  care  of  them— of  a  prince  or  of  a  magistrate 
who  governs  his  subjects,  are  looked  upon  as  secular 
things,  aud  of  an  imperfect  nature."  As  for  monastic 
vows,  in  particular,  he  represented  that,  as  the  pope 
could  give  a  dispensation  from  them,  those  vows  ought 
therefore  to  be  abolished. 

The  last  article  of  the  Confession  treated  of  the 
authority  of  the  bishops:  powerful  princes  crowned 
with  the  episcopal  mitre  were  there ;  the  archbishops 
of  Mentz,  Cologne,  Salzburg,  and  Bremen,  with  the 
bishops  of  Bamberg,  Wurzburg,  Eichstadt,  Worms, 
Spires,  Strasburg,  Augsburg,  Constance,  Coire,  Passau, 
Liege,  Trent,  Brixen,  and  of  Lebus  and  Ratzburg, 
fixed  their  eyes  ou  the  humble  confessor.  He  fear- 
lessly continued,  and  energetically  protesting  against 
that  confusion  of  Church  and  State  which  had  charac- 
terized the  Middle  Ages,  he  called  for  the  distinction 
aud  independence  of  the  two  societies. 

'•Many,"  said  he,  "have  unskilfully  confounded  the 
episcopal  and  the  temporal  power;  and  from  this  con- 
fusion have  resulted  great  wars,  revolts,  and  seditions. 
It  is  for  this  reason,  and  to  reassure  men's  consciences, 
that  we  find  ourselves  constrained  to  establish  the  dif- 
ference which  exists  between  the  power  of  the  Church 
and  the  power  of  the  sword. 

"  We  therefore  teach  that  the  power  of  the  keys  or 
of  the  bishops  is  conformably  with  the  Word  of  the 
Lord,  a  commandment  emanating  from  God,  to  preach 
the  Gospel,  to  remit  or  retain  sins,  and  to  administer 
the  sacraments.  This  power  has  reference  only  to 
eternal  goods,  is  exercised  only  by  the  minister  of  the 
Word,  and  does  not  trouble  itself  with  political  ad- 
ministration. The  political  administration,  on  the 
other  hand,  is  busied  with  everything  else  but  the 
Gospel.  The  magistrate  protects,  not  souls,  but  bodies 
and  temporal  possessions.  He  defends  them  against 
all  attacks  from  without,  and,  by  making  use  of  the 
sword  and  of  punishment,  compels  men  to  observe 
civil  justice  and  peace. 

"  For  this  reason  we  must  take  particular  care  not 
to  mingle  the  power  of  the  Church  with  the  power  of 
the  State.  The  power  of  the  Church  ought  never  to 
invade  an  office  that  is  foreign  to  it ;  for  Christ  him- 
self said:  My  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world.  And  again : 
Who  made  me  a  judge  over  you  ?  St.  Paul  said  to  the 
Philippians :  Our  citizenship  is  in  heaven.  And  to  the 
Corinthians :  The  weapons  of  our  warfare  are  not  carnal, 
but  might//  through  God. 

"  It  is  thus  that  we  distinguish  the  two  governments 
and  the  two  powers,  and  that  we  honour  both  as  the 
most  excellent  gifts  that  God  has  given  here  on  earth. 

"The  duty  of  the  bishops  is,  therefore,  to  preach  the 
Gospel,  to  forgive  sins,  and  to  exclude  from  the  Chris- 
tian Church  all  who  rebel  against  the  Lord,  but  with- 
out human  power,  and  solely  by  the  Word  of  God.  If 
the  bishops  act  thus,  the  churches  ought  to  be  obedient 


to  them,  according  to  this  declaration  of  Christ :  Who- 
ever hearcth  you,  heareth  me. 

"  But  if  the  bishops  teach  anything  that  is  contrary 
to  the  Gospel,  then  the  churches  have  an  order  from 
God  which  forbids  them  to  obey,  (Matt.  vii.  15 ;  Gala- 
tiaiis  i.  8;  2  Cor.  xiii.  8,  10.)  And  St.  Augustine 
himself,  in  his  letter  against  Pertilian,  writes:  'We 
must  not  obey  the  Catholic  bishops  if  they  go  astr.ay, 
aud  teach  anything  contrary  to  the  canonical  Scrip- 
tures of  God." 

After  some  remarks  on  the  ordinances  and  traditions 
of  the  Church,  Bayer  came  to  the  epilogue  of  the 
Confession. 

"  It  is  not  from  hatred  that  we  have  spoken,"  added 
he,  "nor  to  insult  any  one;  but  we  have  explained  the 
doctrines  that  we  maintain  to  be  essential,  in  order 
that  it  may  be  understood  that  we  admit  of  neither 
dogma  nor  ceremony  which  is  contrary  to  the  Holy 
Scriptures,  and  to  the  usage  of  the  universal  Church." 

Bayer  then  ceased  to  read.  He  had  spoken  for  two 
hours:  the  silence  and  serious  attention  of  the  assembly 
were  not  once  disturbed. 

This  Confession  of  Augsburg  will  ever  remain  one 
of  the  masterpieces  of  the  humau  mind  enlightened  by 
the  Spirit  of  God. 

The  language  that  had  been  adopted,  while  it  was 
perfectly  natural,  was  the  result  of  a  profound  study 
of  character.  These  princes,  these  warriors,  these 
politicians,  who  were  sitting  in  the  Palatine  Palace, 
entirely  ignorant  as  they  were  of  divinity,  easily  under- 
stood the  Protestant  doctrine ;  for  it  was  not  explained 
to  them  in  the  style  of  the  schools,  but  in  that  of 
everyday  life,  and  with  a  simplicity  and  clearness  that 
rendered  all  misunderstanding  impossible. 

At  the  same  time  the  power  of  argumentation  was 
so  much  the  more  remarkable,  as  it  was  the  more  con- 
coaled.  At  one  time  Melancthon  (for  it  was  really  he 
who  spoke  through  the  mouth  of  Bayer)  was  content 
to  quote  a  single  passage  of  Scripture  or  of  the  Fathers 
in  favour  of  the  doctrine  he  maintained ;  and  at  another, 
he  proved  his  theses  so  much  the  more  strongly,  that 
he  appeared  only  to  be  declaring  it.  With  a  single 
stroke  he  pointed  out  the  sad  consequences  that  would 
follow  the  rejection  of  the  faith  he  professed,  or  with 
one  word  shewed  its  importance  for  the  prosperity  of 
the  Church ;  so  that,  while  listening  to  him,  the  most 
violent  enemies  were  obliged  to  acknowledge  to  them- 
selves that  there  was  really  something  to  say  in  favour 
of  the  uew  sect. 

To  this  force  of  reasoning  the  Apology  added  a  pru- 
dence no  less  remarkable.  Melancthon,  while  declin- 
ing with  firmness  the  errors  attributed  to  his  party,  did 
not  even  appear  to  feel  the  injustice  of  these  erroneous 
imputations ;  and  while  pointing  out  those  of  Popery, 
he  did  not  say  expressly  they  were  those  of  his  adver- 
saries ;  thus  carefully  avoiding  everytliing  that  might 
irritate  their  minds.  In  this  he  shewed  himself  wise 
as  a  serpent  and  harmless  as  a  dove. 

But  the  most  admirable  thing  of  all  is  the  fidelity 
with  which  the  Confession  explains  the  doctrines  most 
essential  to  salvation.  Rome  is  accustomed  to  repre- 
sent the  reformers  as  the  creators  of  the  Protestant 
doctrines ;  but  it  is  not  in  the  sixteenth  century  that 
we  must  look  for  the  days  of  that  creation.     A  bright 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


track  of  light,  of  which  Wickliffe  and  Augustine  mark 
the  most  salient  points,  carries  us  back  to  the  apostolic 
age :  it  was  then  that  shone  in  all  their  brilliancy  the 
creative  days  of  evangelical  truth.  Yet  it  is  true,  (and 
if  this  is  what  Rome  means,  we  fully  concur  in  the 
idea,)  never  since  the  time  of  St.  Paul  had  the  Chris- 
tian doctrine  appeared  with  so  much  beauty,  depth, 
and  life,  as  in  the  days  of  the  Reformation. 

Among  these  doctrines,  that  of  the  Church,  which 
had  been  so  long  disfigured,  appeared  at  this  time  in 
all  its  native  purity.  With  what  wisdom,  in  particular, 
the  confessors  of  Augsburg  protest  against  that  con- 
fusion of  religion  and  politics  which,  since  the  deplor- 
able epoch  of  Constantine,  had  changed  the  kingdom 
of  God  into  an  earthly  and  carnal  institution !  Un- 
doubtedly what  the  Confession  stigmatizes  with  the 
gi'eatest  energy  is  the  intrusion  of  the  Church  into 
the  affairs  of  the  State ;  but  can  it  be  thought  that  it 
was  to  approve  the  intrusion  of  the  State  in  Church 
affairs  ?  The  evil  of  the  INIiddle  Ages  was  the  having 
enslaved  the  State  to  the  Church,  and  the  confessors 
of  Augsburg  rose  like  one  man  to  combat  it.  The  evil 
of  the  three  centuries  which  have  passed  away  since 
then,  is  to  have  subjected  the  Church  to  the  State ; 
and  we  may  believe  that  Luther  and  Melancthou 
would  have  foimd  against  this  disorder  thunders  no 
less  powerful.  What  they  attack  in  a  general  sense, 
is  the  confusion  of  the  two  societies ;  what  they  de- 
mand is  their  independence,  I  do  not  say  their  separa- 
tion, for  separation  of  Church  and  State  was  quite 
unknown  to  the  reformers.  If  the  Augsburg  con- 
fessors were  unwilling  that  things  from  above  should 
monopolize  those  of  the  earth,  they  would  have  been 
still  less  willing  for  things  of  earth  to  oppress  those 
from  heaven. 

There  is  a  particular  application  of  this  principle, 
which  the  Confession  points  out.  It  wills  the  bishops 
should  reprimand  those  who  obey  wickedness,  "  but 
without  human  power,  and  solely  by  the  Word  of 
God."  It  therefore  rejects  the  use  of  the  sword  in 
the  chastisement  of  heretics.  This  we  see  is  a  primi- 
tive principle,  fundamental  and  essential  to  the  Refor- 
mation, as  the  contrary  doctrine  is  a  primitive  principle, 
fundamental  and  essential  to  the  Papacy.  If  among 
Protestants  we  find  some  writing,  or  even  some  ex- 
ample opposed  to  this,  it  is  but  an  isolated  fact,  which 
cannot  invalidate  the  official  principles  of  the  reform — 
it  is  one  of  those  exceptions  which  always  serve  to 
confirm  the  rule. 

Finally,  the  Augsburg  Confession  does  not  usurp 
the  rights  of  the  Word  of  God;  it  desires  to  be  its 
handmaid,  and  not  its  rival ;  it  does  not  found,  it  does 
not  regulate  the  faith,  but  simply  professes  it.  "  Our 
churches  teach,"  it  says ;  and  it  will  be  remembered 
that  Luther  considered  it  only  as  a  sermon  preached 
by  princes  and  kings.  Had  it  desired  more,  as  has 
since  been  maintained,  by  that  very  circumstance  it 
would  have  been  nullified. 

Was,  however,  the  Confession  able  to  follow  in  all 
things  the  exact  path  of  truth  ?  We  may  be  permitted 
to  doubt  it. 

It  professes  not  to  separate  from  the  teaching  of  the 
Catholic  Church,  and  even  from  that  of  the  Romish 
Church, — by  which  is,  no  doubt,  signified  the  ancient 


Roman  Church, — and  rejects  the  Popish  particularism 
which,  for  about  eight  centuries,  imprisoned  men's  con- 
sciences. The  Confession,  however,  seems  overlaid 
with  superstitious  fears  when  there  is  any  question  of 
deviating  from  the  views  entertained  by  some  of  the 
Fathers  of  the  Church,  of  breaking  the  toils  of  the 
hierarchy,  and  of  acting,  as  regards  Rome,  without 
blameable  forbearance.  This,  at  least,  is  what  its 
author,  Melancthon,  professes.  "  We  do  not  put  for- 
ward any  dogma,"  said  he,  "  which  is  not  founded  on 
the  Gospel,  or  on  the  teaching  of  the  Catholic  Church; 
we  are  prepared  to  concede  everything  that  is  necessary 
for  the  episcopal  dignity;  and,  provided  the  bishops  do 
not  condemn  the  Gospel,  we  preserve  all  the  rites  that 
appear  indifferent  to  us.  In  a  word,  there  is  no  burden 
that  we  reject,  if  we  can  bear  it  without  guilt." 

Many  will  think,  no  doubt,  that  a  little  more  inde- 
pendence would  have  been  proper  in  this  matter,  and 
that  it  would  have  been  better  to  have  passed  over  the 
ages  that  have  followed  the  times  of  the  Apostles, 
and  have  frankly  put  in  practice  the  grand  principle 
which  the  Reformation  had  proclaimed:  "There  is 
for  articles  of  faith  no  other  foundation  than  the  Word 
of  God." 

Melancthon's  moderation  has  been  admired ;  and,  in 
truth,  while  pointing  out  the  abuses  of  Rome,  he  was 
silent  on  what  is  most  revolting  in  them,  on  their  dis- 
graceful origin,  their  scandalous  consequences,  and  is 
content  to  shew  that  they  ai-e  in  contradiction  to  the 
Scripture.  But  he  does  more,  he  is  sUent  on  the 
Divine  right  claimed  by  the  pope,  on  the  number  of 
the  sacraments,  and  on  several  other  points.  His 
great  business  is  to  justify  the  renovated,  and  not  to 
attack  the  deformed.  Church.  "Peace!  peace!"  was 
his  cry.  But  if,  instead  of  all  this  circumspection,  the 
Reformation  had  advanced  with  courage,  had  wholly 
unveiled  the  Word  of  God,  and  had  made  an  ener- 
getic appeal  to  the  sympathies  of  reform  then  spread 
in  men's  hearts,  would  it  not  have  taken  a  stronger 
and  more  honourable  position,  and  would  it  not  have 
secured  more  extensive  conquests  ? 

The  interest  that  Charles  the  Fifth  shewed  in  listen- 
ing to  the  Confession  seems  doubtful.  According  to 
some,  he  endeavoured  to  understand  that  foreign  lan- 
guage ;  according  to  others,  he  fell  asleep.  It  is  easy 
to  reconcile  these  contradictory  testimonies. 

AVhen  the  reading  was  finished,  chancellor  Bruck, 
with  the  two  copies  in  his  hand,  advanced  towards 
the  emperor's  secretary  and  presented  them  to  him. 
Charles  the  Fifth,  who  was  wide-awake  at  this  mo- 
ment, himself  took  the  two  Confessions,  handed  the 
German  copy,  considered  as  official,  to  the  Elector  of 
Mentz,  and  kept  the  Latin  one  for  himself. '  He  then 
made  reply  to  the  Elector  of  Saxony  and  to  his  allies, 
that  he  had  graciously  heard  their  Confession ;  but  as 
this  affair  was  one  of  extreme  importance,  he  required 
time  to  deliberate  upon  it. 

The  joy  with  which  the  Protestants  were  filled  shone 
in  their  eyes.  God  had  been  with  them  ;  and  they  saw 
that  the  striking  act  which  had  so  recently  been  ac- 
complished, imposed  on  them  the  obligation  of  coufess- 

1  Tlio  Latin  copy,  deposited  in  the  arcliives  of  tlie  imperial  house,  should 
be  found  at  Brussels ;  and  the  German  copy,  seat  afterwards  to  the  Council 
of  Trent,  ought  to  be  in  the  Vatican. 


LUTHER  DEMANDS  RELIGIOUS  LIBERTY. 


ing  the  truth  with  immoveable  perseverance.  "  I  am 
overjoyed,"  wrote  Luther,  "  that  I  liave  lived  until  this 
hour,  in  which  Christ  has  been  publicly  exalted  by  such 
illustrious  confessors,  and  in  so  glorious  au  assembly. 
Tiie  whole  evangelical  Church,  excited  and  renovated 
by  this  public  confession  of  its  representatives,  was 
then  more  intimately  united  to  its  Divine  Chief,  and 
baptized  with  a  new  baptism.  "  Since  the  apostolic 
age,"  said  they,  (these  are  the  words  of  a  contem- 
porary,) "  there  has  never  been  a  greater  work  or  a 
more  magnificent  Confession." 

The  emperor,  having  descended  from  his  throne, 
approached  the  Protestant  princes,  and  begged  them, 
in  a  low  tone,  not  to  publish  the  Confession ;  they 
acceded  to  his  request,  and  every  one  withdrew. 


CHAPTER  vrn. 

Effect  on  the  Bom.inists— Luther  Demands  Religious  Liberty— His  Domi- 
nant Idea — Song  of  Triumph— Ingenuous  Confessions— Hopes  of  the 
Protestants — Fadure  of  the  Popish  Intrigues — The  Emperor*s  Council 
— Violent  Discussions— A  Refutation  Proposed — Its  Authors — Rome 
and  the  Civil  Power— Perils  of  the  Confessors— Melancthon's  Minimum 
— Tlie  Emperor's  Sister — Melancthon's  Fall— Luther  Opposes  Con- 
cession—The Legate  Repels  Melanothon— The  Pope's  Decision— Ques- 
tion—Melancthou's  School  Matters— Answer. 

The  Romanists  had  expected  nothing  like  this.  In- 
stead of  a  hateful  controversy,  they  had  heard  a 
striking  confession  of  Jesus  Christ;  the  most  hostile 
minds  were  consequently  disarmed.  "  We  would  not 
for  a  great  deal,"  was  the  remark  on  every  side,  "  have 
missed  being  present  at  this  reading."  The  effect  was 
so  prompt,  that  for  an  instant  the  cause  was  thought  to 
be  definitely  gained.  The  bishops  themselves  imposed 
silence  on  the  sophisms  and  clamours  of  the  Fabers 
and  the  Ecks.  "  All  that  the  Lutherans  have  said  is 
true,"  exclaimed  the  Bishop  of  Augsburg ;  "we  cannot 
deny  it." — "  Well,  doctor,"  said  the  Duke  of  Bavaria 
to  Eck,  in  a  reproachful  tone,  "you  had  given  me  a 
very  different  idea  of  this  doctrine  and  of  this  affair." 
This  was  the  general  cry;  accordingly,  tlie  sophists,  as 
they  called  them,  were  embarrassed.  "  But,  after  all," 
said  the  Duke  of  Bavaria  to  them,  "  can  you  refute  by 
sound  reasons  the  Confession  made  by  the  elector  and 
his  allies  1 " — "  With  the  writings  of  the  apostles  and 
prophets — no ! "  replied  Eck ;  "  but  with  those  of  the 
Fathers  and  of  the  councils — yes!"  "I  understand," 
quickly  replied  the  duke;  "I  understand.  The  Lu- 
therans, according  to  you,  are  in  Scripture,  and  we  are 
outside." 

The  Archbishop  Hermann,  elector  of  Cologne,  the 
Count-palatine  Frederick,  Duke  Eiick  of  Brunswick- 
Luneburg,  Duke  Henry  of  Mecklenburg,  and  the 
dukes  of  Pomerania,  were  gained  over  to  the  truth ; 
and  Hermann  sought  erelong  to  establish  it  in  his 
electorate. 

The  impression  produced  in  other  countries  by  the 
Confession  was,  perhaps,  still  greater.  Charles  sent 
copies  to  all  the  courts ;  it  was  translated  into  French, 
Italian,  and  even  into  Spanish  and  Portuguese;  it  circu- 


lated through  all  Europe,  and  thus  accomplished  what 
Luther  had  said :  "  Our  Confession  will  penetrate  into 
every  court,  and  the  sound  thereof  will  spread  through 
the  whole  earth."  It  destroyed  the  prejudices  that 
had  been  entertained,  gave  Europe  a  sounder  idea  of 
the  Reformation,  and  prepared  the  most  distant  coun- 
tries to  receive  the  seeds  of  the  Gospel. 

Then  Luther's  voice  began  to  be  heard  again.  He 
saw  that  it  was  a  decisive  moment,  and  that  he  ought 
now  to  give  the  impulse  that  would  gain  religious 
liberty.  He  boldly  demanded  this  liberty  of  the  Roman 
Catholic  princes  of  the  diet;  and  at  the  same  time 
endeavoured  to  make  his  friends  quit  Augsburg.  Jesus 
Christ  had  been  boldly  confessed.  Instead  of  that 
long  series  of  quarrels  and  discussions  which  was  about 
to  become  connected  with  this  courageous  act,  Luther 
would  have  wished  for  a  striking  rupture,  even  should 
he  seal  with  his  blood  the  testimony  rendered  to  the 
Gospel.  The  stake,  in  his  idea,  would  have  been  the 
real  catastrophe  of  this  tragedy.  "  I  absolve  you  from 
this  diet,  in  the  name  of  the  Lord,"  wrote  he  to  his 
friends.  "  Now  home,  return  home,  again  I  say,  home ! 
Would  to  God  that  I  were  the  sacrifice  offered  to  this 
new  council,  as  John  Huss  at  Constance!" 

But  Luther  did  not  expect  so  glorious  a  conclusion : 
he  compared  the  diet  to  a  drama.  First,  there  had 
been  the  exposition,  then  the  prologue,  afterwards  the 
action,  and  now  he  waited  for  the  tragic  catastrophe, 
according  to  some,  but  which,  in  his  opinion,  would  be 
merely  comic.  Everything,  he  thought,  would  be 
sacrificed  to  political  peace,  and  dogm;is  would  be  set 
aside.  This  proceeding,  which,  even  in  our  own  days, 
would  be  in  the  eyes  of  the  world  the  height  of  wisdom, 
was  in  Luther's  eyes  the  height  of  folly. 

He  was  especially  alarmed  at  the  thought  of  Charles's 
intervention.  To  withdraw  tlie  Church  from  all  secu- 
lar influence,  and  the  governments  from  all  clerical 
influence,  was  then  one  of  the  dominant  ideas  of  the 
great  reformer.  "  You  see,"  wrote  he  to  Melancthou, 
"  that  they  oppose  to  our  cause  the  same  argument  as 
at  Worms, — to  wit,  still  and  for  ever  the  judgment  of 
the  emperor.  Thus  Satan  is  always  harping  on  the 
same  string,  aud  that  emaciated  strength  of  the  civil 
power  is  the  only  one  which  this  myriad-wiled  spirit 
is  able  to  find  against  Jesus  Christ."  But  Luther  took 
courage,  and  boldly  raised  his  head.  "  Christ  is  com- 
ing," continued  he ;  "  He  is  coming,  sitting  at  the  right 
hand.  ...  Of  whom  ?  not  of  the  emperor,  or  we 
should  long  ago  have  been  lost,  but  of  God  himself :  let 
us  fear  nothing.  Christ  is  the  King  of  kings  and  the 
Lord  of  lords.  If  He  loses  this  title  at  Augsburg, 
He  must  also  lose  it  in  all  the  earth,  and  in  all  the 
heavens." 

Thus  a  song  of  triumph  was,  on  the  part  of  the  con- 
fessors of  Augsburg,  the  first  movement  that  followed 
this  courageous  act,  unique,  doubtless,  in  the  annals  of 
the  Ciiurch.  Some  of  their  adversaries  at  first  shared 
in  their  triumph,  and  the  others  were  silent;  but  a 
powerful  reaction  took  place  erelong. 

On  the  following  mornuig,  Charles  having  risen  in 
ill-humour,  and  tired  for  want  of  sleep,  the  first  of  his 
ministers  who  appeared  in  the  imperial  apartments 
was  the  count-palatine,  as  wearied  and  embarrassed  as 
his  master.     "  We  must  yield  something,"  said  he  to 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


Charles ;  "  and  I  would  remind  your  majesty  that  the 
Emperor  Maximilian  was  willing  to  gi'ant  the  two 
kinds  in  the  Eucharist,  the  marriage  of  priests,  and 
liberty  with  respect  to  the  fasts."  Charles  the  Fifth 
eagerly  seized  at  this  proposition  as  a  means  of  safety. 
But  Granvelle  and  Campeggio  soon  arrived,  who  in- 
duced him  to  withdraw  it. 

Rome,  bewildered  for  a  moment  by  the  blow  that 
had  struck  her,  rose  up  again  with  energy.  "  I  stay 
with  the  mother,"  exclaimed  the  Bishop  of  Wartzburg, 
meaning  by  it  the  Church  of  Rome;  "the  mother,  the 
mother !"  "  My  lord,"  wittily  replied  Brentz,  "  pray, 
do  not,  for  the  mother,  forget  either  the  Father  or  the 
Son!" — "Well!  I  grant  it,"  replied  the  Archbishop  of 
Salzburg  to  one  of  his  friends,  "I  also  should  desire 
the  communion  in  both  kinds,  the  marriage  of  priests, 
the  reformation  of  the  mass,  and  liberty  as  regards 
food  and  other  traditions.  .  .  .  But  that  it  should 
be  a  monk,  a  poor  monk,  who  presumes  to  reform  us 
all,  is  what  we  cannot  tolerate." — "  I  should  have  uo 
objection,"  said  another  bishop,  "for  Divine  worship 
to  be  celebrated  everywhere  as  it  is  at  Wittemberg; 
but  we  can  never  consent  that  this  new  doctrine  should 
issue  from  such  a  corner."  And  Melaucthon,  insisting 
with  the  Archbishop  of  Salzburg  on  the  necessity  of  a 
reform  of  the  clergy :  "  Well !  and  how  can  you  wish 
to  reform  us  ?"  said  the  latter  abruptly :  "  we  priests 
have  always  been  good  for  nothing."  This  is  one  of 
the  most  ingenuous  confessions  that  the  Reformation 
has  torn  from  the  priests.  Every  day  fanatical  monks 
and  doctors,  brimful  of  sophisms,  were  seen  arriving  at 
Augsburg,  who  endeavoured  to  inflame  the  hatred  of 
the  emperor  and  of  the  princes.  "If  we  formerly  had 
friends,"  said  Melancthon,  on  the  morrow  of  the  Con- 
fession, "  now  we  possess  them  no  longer.  We  are 
here  alone,  abandoned  by  all,  and  contending  against 
measureless  dangers." 

Charles,  impelled  by  these  contrary  parties,  affected 
a  great  indifference.  But  without  permitting  it  to  be 
seen,  he  endeavoured,  meanwhile,  to  examine  this  affair 
thoroughly.  "  Let  there  not  be  a  word  wanting,"  he 
had  said  to  his  secretary,  when  requiring  from  him  a 
French  translation  of  the  Confession.  "  He  does  not 
allow  anything  to  be  observed,"  whispered  the  Protes- 
tants one  to  another,  convinced  that  Charles  was  gained ; 
"for  if  it  were  known,  he  would  lose  his  Spanish 
states:  let  us  maintain  the  most  profound  secrecy." 
But  the  emperor's  courtiers,  who  perceived  these 
strange  hopes,  smiled  and  shook  their  heads.  "If 
you  have  money,"  said  Scheppcr,  one  of  the  secre- 
taries of  state,  to  Jonas  and  Melancthon,  "  it  will  be 
easy  for  you  to  buy  from  the  Italians  whatever  religion 
you  please ;  but  if  your  purse  is  empty,  yom-  cause  is 
lost."  Then  assuming  a  more  serious  tone:  "It  is 
impossible,"  said  he,  "  for  the  emperor,  surrounded  as 
he  is  by  bishops  and  cardinals,  to  approve  of  any  other 
religion  than  that  of  the  pope." 

This  was  soon  evident.  On  the  day  after  the  Con- 
fession, (Sunday,  26th  June,)  before  the  breakfast 
hour,  all  the  deputations  from  the  imperial  cities  were 
collected  in  the  emperor's  antechamber.  Chai-les,  desir- 
ous of  bringing  back  the  states  of  the  empire  to  unity, 
began  with  the  weakest.  "  Some  of  the  cities,"  said 
the  count-palatine,  "  have  not  adhered  to  the  last  Diet 


of  Spires:  the  emperor  calls  upon  them  to  submit 
to  it." 

Strasburg,  Nuremberg,  Constance,  Ulm,  Reutlingen, 
Heilbronn,  Menimingen,  Lindau,  Kempten,  Windsheim, 
Isuy,  and  Weissemburg,  which  were  thus  summoned  to 
renounce  the  famous  protest,  thought  the  moment 
cmiously  chosen.     They  asked  for  time. 

The  position  was  complicated:  discord  had  been 
thrown  in  the  midst  of  the  cities,  and  intrigue  was 
labouring  daily  to  increase  it.  It  was  not  only  be- 
tween the  popish  and  the  evangelical  cities  that  dis- 
agreement existed;  but  also  between  the  Zwingliau 
and  the  Lutheran  cities,  and  even  among  the  latter, 
those  which  had  not  adhered  to  the  Confession  of  Augs- 
burg manifested  great  ill-humour  towards  the  deputies 
of  Reuthugen  and  Nuremberg.  This  proceeding  of 
Charles  the  Fifth  was,  therefore,  skilfully  calcu- 
lated; for  it  was  based  on  the  old  axiom,  Divide  et 
impera. 

But  the  enthusiasm  of  faith  overcame  all  these 
stratagems,  and  on  the  next  day,  (27th  June,)  the 
deputies  from  the  cities  transmitted  a  reply  to  the 
emperor,  in  which  they  declared  that  they  could  not 
adhere  to  the  Recess  of  Spires  "  without  disobeying 
God,  and  without  compromising  the  salvation  of  their 
souls." 

Charles,  who  desired  to  observe  a  just  medium,  more 
from  polic}'  than  from  equity,  wavered  between  so 
many  contrary  convictions.  Desirous,  nevertheless,  of 
essaying  his  mediating  influence,  he  convoked  the 
states  faithful  to  Rome,  on  Sunday,  26th  June,  shortly 
after  his  conference  with  the  cities. 

All  the  princes  were  present :  even  the  pope's  legate 
and  the  most  influential  Roman  divines  appeared  at 
this  council,  to  the  great  scandal  of  the  Protestants. 
"What  reply  should  be  made  to  the  Confession?"  was 
the  question  set  by  Charles  the  Fifth  to  the  senate 
that  surrounded  him. 

Three  different  opinions  were  proposed.  "  Let  us 
beware,"  said  the  men  of  the  Papacy,  "of  discussing 
our  adversaries'  reasons  ;  and  let  us  be  content  with 
executing  the  Edict  of  Worms  against  the  Lutherans, 
and  with  constraining  them  by  arms." — "  Let  us  sub- 
mit the  Confession  to  the  examination  of  impartial 
judges,"  said  the  men  of  the  empire,  "and  refer  the 
final  decision  to  the  emperor.  Is  not  even  the  reading 
of  the  Confession  an  appeal  of  the  Protestants  to  the 
imperial  power?"  Others,  in  the  last  place,  (and  these 
were  the  men  of  tradition  and  of  ecclesiastical  doc- 
trine,) were  desirous  of  commissioning  certain  doctors 
to  compose  a  refutation,  which  should  be  read  to  the 
Protestants,  and  ratified  by  Charles. 

The  debate  was  very  animated;  the  mild  and  the 
violent,  the  politic  and  the  fanatical,  took  a  decided 
course  in  the  assembly.  George  of  Saxony,  and 
Joachim  of  Brandenburg,  shewed  themselves  the  most 
inveterate ;  and  surpassed,  in  this  respect,  even  the 
ecclesiastical  princes.  "A  certain  clown,  whom  you 
know  well,  is  pushing  them  all  from  behind,"  -wrote 
Melancthon  to  Luther ;  "  and  certain  hypocritical 
theologians  hold  the  torch  and  lead  the  whole  band." 
This  clown  was  doubtless  Duke  George.  Even  the 
princes  of  Bavaria,  whom  the  Confession  had  stag- 
gered at  first,  immediately  rallied  around  the  chiefs  of 


VIOLENT  DISCUSSIONS. 


the  Roman  party.  The  Elector  of  Mentz,  the  Bishop 
of  Augsburg,  the  Duke  of  Brunswick,  shewed  them- 
6elves  the  least  unfavourable  to  the  evangelical  cause. 
"I  can  by  no  means  advise  his  majesty  to  employ 
force,"  said  Albert.  "  If  his  majesty  should  constrain 
their  consciences,  and  should  afterwards  quit  the  em- 
pire, the  lirst  victims  sacrificed  would  be  the  priests ; 
and  who  knows  whether,  in  the  midst  of  these  dis- 
cords, the  Turks  would  not  suddenly  fall  upon  us?" 
But  this  somewhat  interested  wisdom  of  the  archbishop 
did  not  find  many  supporters,  and  the  men  of  war 
immediately  plunged  into  the  discussion  with  theu- 
harsh  voices.  "If  there  is  any  fighting  against  the 
Lutherans,"  said  Count  Felix  of  "Werdenberg,  "I 
gratuitously  offer  my  sword,  and  I  swear  never  to 
return  it  to  its  scabbard  until  it  has  overthrown  the 
stronghold  of  Luther."  This  nobleman  died  suddenly, 
ft  few  days  after,  from  the  consequences  of  his  intem- 
perance. Then  the  moderate  men  again  interfered : 
"The  Lutherans  attack  uo  one  article  of  the  faith," 
said  the  Bishop  of  Augsburg;  let  us  come  to  an 
arrangement  with  them ;  and  to  obtain  peace,  let  us 
concede  to  them  the  sacrament  in  both  kinds,  and  the 
marriage  of  priests.  I  would  even  yield  more,  if  it 
were  necessary."  Upon  this  loud  cries  arose  :  "  He  is 
a  Lutheran,"  they  exclaimed,  "  and  you  will  see  that 
he  is  fully  prepared  to  sacrifice  even  the  private 
masses!" — "The  masses!  we  must  not  even  think  of 
it,"  remarked  some  with  an  ironical  smile ;  "  Rome 
will  never  give  them  up,  for  it  is  they  which  maintain 
her  cardinals  and  her  courtiers,  with  their  luxury  and 
their  kitchens."  The  Archbishop  of  Salzburg  and  the 
Elector  of  Brandenburg  replied  with  great  violence  to 
the  motion  of  the  Bishop  of  Augsburg.  "  The  Luther- 
ans," said  they  abruptly,  "  have  laid  before  us  a  Con- 
fession written  with  black  ink  ou  white  paper.  Well : 
if  I  were  emperor,  I  would  answer  them  with  red  ink." 
— "Sirs,"  quickly  replied  the  Bishop  of  Augsburg, 
"  take  care,  then,  that  the  red  letters  do  not  fly  in  your 
faces  ! "  The  Elector  of  Mentz  was  compelled  to  in- 
terfere and  calm  the  speakers. 

The  emperor,  desirous  of  plaj-ing  the  character  of 
an  umpire,  would  have  wished  the  Roman  party  at 
least  to  have  placed  in  his  hands  an  act  of  accusation 
against  the  Reform  :  but  all  was  now  altered ;  the  ma- 
jority, becoming  daily  more  compact  since  the  Diet  of 
Spires,  no  longer  sided  with  Charles.  Full  of  the 
sentiment  of  their  own  strength,  they  refused  to 
assume  the  title  of  a  party,  and  to  take  the  emperor 
as  a  judge.  "AVhat  are  you  saying,"  cried  they,  "of 
diversity  between  the  members  of  the  empire?  There 
is  but  one  legitimate  party.  It  is  not  a  question  of 
deciding  between  two  opinions  whose  rights  are  equal, 
but  of  crushing  rebels,  and  of  aiding  those  who  have 
remained  faithful  to  the  constitution  of  the  empire." 

This  haughty  language  enlightened  Charles :  he 
found  they  had  outstripped  him,  and  that,  abandoning 
his  lofty  position  of  arbiter,  he  must  submit  merely 
to  be  the  executor  of  the  orders  of  the  majority.  It 
was  this  majority  which  henceforward  commanded  in 
Augsburg.  They  excluded  the  imperial  councillors 
who  advocated  more  equitable  views,  and  the  Arch- 
bishop of  Mentz  himself  ceased  for  a  time  to  appear  in 
the  diet. 


The  majority  ordered  that  a  refutation  of  the  Evan- 
gelical doctrine  should  be  immediately  drawn  up  by 
Romish  theologians.  If  they  had  selected  for  this  pur- 
pose moderate  men  like  the  Bishop  of  Augsburg,  the 
Reformation  would  still  have  had  some  chance  of 
success  with  the  great  principles  of  Christianity;  but 
it  was  to  the  enemies  of  the  Reform,  to  the  old  cham- 
pions of  Rome  and  of  Aristotle,  exasperated  by  so 
many  defeats,  that  they  resolved  to  intrust  this  task. 

They  were  numerous  at  Augsburg,  and  not  held  in 
very  great  esteem.  "The  princes,"  said  Jonas,  "have 
brought  their  learned  men  with  them,  and  some  even 
their  ■unlearned  and  their  fools."  Provost  Faber  and 
Doctor  Eck  lead  the  troop ;  behind  them  was  drawn 
up  a  cohort  of  monks,  and  above  all  of  Dominicans, 
tools  of  the  Inquisition,  and  impatient  to  recompense 
themselves  for  the  opprobrium  they  had  so  long  en- 
dured. There  was  the  provincial  of  the  Dominicans, 
Paul  Hugo,  their  vicar  John  Bourkard,  one  of  their 
priors  Conrad  Koeloin,  who  had  v\Titten  against 
Luther's  marriage ;  with  a  number  of  Carthusians, 
Augustines,  Franciscans,  and  the  vicars  of  several 
bishops.  Such  were  the  men  who,  to  the  number  of 
twenty,  were  commissioned  to  refute  Melancthon. 

One  might,  beforehand,  have  augured  of  the  work 
by  the  workmen.  Each  one  understood  that  it  was  a 
question,  not  of  refuting  the  Confession,  but  of  brand- 
ing it.  Campeggio,  who  doubtless  suggested  this  ill- 
omened  list  to  Charles,  was  well  aware  that  these 
doctors  were  incapable  of  measuring  themselves  with 
Melancthon ;  but  their  names  formed  the  most  decided 
standard  of  Popery,  and  announced  to  the  world  clearly 
and  immediately  what  the  diet  proposed  to  do.  This 
was  the  essential  point.  Rome  would  not  leave  Chris- 
tendom even  hope. 

It  was,  however,  requisite  to  know  whether  the  diet, 
and  the  emperor  who  was  its  organ,  had  the  right  of 
pronouncing  in  this  purely  religious  matter.  Charles 
put  the  question  both  to  the  Evangelicals  and  to  the 
Romanists. 

"  Your  highness,"  said  Luther,  who  was  consulted 
by  the  elector,  "  may  reply  with  all  assurance.  Yes, 
if  the  emperor  wish  it,  let  him  be  judge !  I  will  bear 
everything  on  his  part ;  but  let  him  decide  nothing 
contrary  to  the  "Word  of  God.  Your  highness  cannot 
put  the  emperor  above  God  himself.  Does  not  the 
first  commandment  say,  Thou  skilt  have  no  other  gods 
he/ore  me'/" 

The  reply  of  the  Papal  adherents  was  quite  as  posi- 
tive in  a  contrary  sense.  "We  think,"  said  they,  "that 
his  majesty,  in  accord  with  the  electors,  princes,  and 
states  of  the  empire,  has  the  right  to  proceed  in  this 
affair,  as  Roman  emperor,  guardian,  advocate,  and 
sovereign  protector  of  the  Church  and  of  our  most  holy 
faith."  Thus,  in  the  first  days  of  the  Reformation,  the 
Evangelical  Church  frankly  ranged  itself  under  the 
throne  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  the  Roman  Church  under 
the  sceptre  of  kings.  Enlightened  men,  even  among 
Protestants,  have  misunderstood  this  double  nature  of 
Protestantism  and  Popery. 

The  philosophy  of  Aristotle  and  the  hierarchy  of 
Rome,  thanks  to  this  alliance  with  the  civil  power, 
were  at  length  about  to  see  the  day  of  their  long- 
expected  triumph  arrive.     So  long  as  the  schoolmen 


HISTORY  OP  THE  REFORMATION. 


had  beeu  left  to  the  force  of  their  sjdlogisms  and  of 
their  abuse,  they  had  been  defeated ;  but  now  Charles 
the  Fifth  and  the  diet  held  out  their  hands  to  them ; 
the  reasonings  of  Faber,  Eck,  and  Wimpina  were  about 
to  be  countersigned  by  the  German  chancellor,  and 
confirmed  by  the  great  seals  of  the  empire.  Who 
could  resist  them?  The  Romish  error  has  never  had 
any  strength  except  by  its  union  with  the  secular  arm ; 
and  its  victories  in  the  Old  and  in  the  New  World  are 
owing,  even  in  our  days,  to  State  patronage. ' 

These  things  did  not  escape  the  piercing  eye  of 
Luther.  He  saw  at  once  the  weakness  of  the  argu- 
ment of  the  Papist  doctors  and  the  power  of  Charles's 
arm.  "You  are  waiting  for  your  adversaries'  answer," 
wrote  he  to  his  friends  in  Augsburg ;  "  it  is  already 
written,  and  here  it  is:  The  Fathers,  the  Fathers, 
the  Fathers ;   the  Church,  the  Church,  the  Church ; 

usage,  custom;  but  of  the  Scriptures nothing!" — 

"Then  the  emperor,  supported  by  the  testimony  of  these 
arbiters,  will  pronounce  against  you ;  and  then  will 
you  hear  boastings  from  all  sides  that  will  ascend  up 
to  heaven,  and  threats  that  will  descend  even  to  hell." 

Thus  changed  the  situation  of  the  Reform.  Charles 
was  obliged  to  acknowledge  his  weakness:  and,  to 
save  the  appearance  of  his  power,  he  took  a  decisive 
part  with  the  enemies  of  Luther.  The  emperor's  im- 
partiality disappeared :  the  State  turned  against  the 
Gospel,  and  there  remained  for  it  no  other  saviour 
than  God. 

At  first  many  gave  way  to  extreme  dejection :  above 
all,  Melancthon,  who  had  a  nearer  view  of  the  cabals 
of  the  adversaries,  exhausted,  moreover,  by  long  vigils, 
fell  almost  into  despair.  "In  the  presence  of  these  for- 
midable evils,"  cried  he,  "  I  see  uo  more  hope."  And 
then,  however,  he  added — "  Except  the  help  of  God." 

The  legate  immediately  set  all  his  batteries  to  work. 
Already  had  Charles  several  times  sent  for  the  elector 
and  the  landgrave,  and  had  used  every  exertion  to 
detach  them  from  the  evangelical  Confession.  Me- 
lancthon, uneasy  at  these  secret  conferences,  reduced 
the  Confession  to  its  minimum,  and  entreated  the 
elector  to  demand  only  the  two  kinds  in  the  Eucharist 
and  the  marriage  of  priests.  "  To  interdict  the  former 
of  these  points,"  said  he,  "  would  be  to  alienate  a  great 
number  of  Christians  from  the  communion ;  and  to 
forbid  the  second,  would  be  depriving  the  Church  of 
all  the  pastors  capable  of  edifying  it.  Will  they  de- 
stroy rehgiou  and  kindle  civil  war,  rather  than  apply 
to  these  purely  ecclesiastical  constitutions  a  mitigation 
that  is  neither  contrary  to  sound  morals  nor  to  faith?" 
The  Protestant  princes  begged  Melancthon  to  go  him- 
self and  make  these  proposals  to  the  legate. 

Melancthon  agreed :  he  began  to  flatter  himself  with 
success;  and,  in  truth,  there  were,  even  among  tlie 
Papists,  individuals  who  were  favourable  to  the  Refor- 
mation. There  had  recently  arrived  at  Augsburg, 
from  beyond  the  Alps,  certain  propositions  tolerably 
Lutheran,  and  one  of  the  emperor's  confessors  boldly 
professed  the  doctrine  of  justification  by  faith,  cursing 
"  those  asses  of  Germans,"  said  he,  "  who  are  inces- 
santly braying  against  this  truth."  One  of  Charles's 
chaplains  approved  even  the  whole  of  the  Confession. 
There  was  somethmg  further  still :  Charles  the  Fifth 


haviug  consulted  the  grandees  of  Spain,  who  were 
famous  for  their  orthodoxy:  "If  the  opinions  of  the 
Protestants  are  contrary  to  the  articles  of  the  faith," 
they  had  replied,  "let  your  majesty  employ  all  his 
power  to  destroy  this  faction ;  but  if  it  is  a  question 
merely  of  certain  changes  in  human  ordinances  and 
external  usages,  let  all  violence  be  avoided."  "  Ad- 
mirable reply!"  exclaimed  Melancthon,  who  persuaded 
himself  that  the  Romish  doctrine  was  at  the  bottom  in 
accordance  with  the  Gospel. 

The  Reformation  found  defenders  in  even  still  higher 
stations.  Mary,  sister  of  Charles  the  Fifth,  and  widow 
of  King  Louis  of  Hungary,  arriving  at  Augsburg  three 
days  after  the  reading  of  the  Confession,  with  her 
sister-in-law,  the  Queen  of  Bohemia,  Ferdinand's  wife, 
assiduously  studied  the  Holy  Scriptures;  she  carried 
them  with  her  to  the  hunting  parties,  in  which  she 
found  little  pleasure,  and  had  discovered  therein  the 
jewel  of  the  Reform, — the  doctrine  of  gratuitous  sal- 
vation. This  pious  princess  made  her  chaplain  read 
evangelical  sermons  to  her,  and  often  endeavoured, 
although  with  prudence,  to  appease  her  brother  Charles 
with  regard  to  the  Protestants. 

Melancthon,  encouraged  by  these  demonstrations, 
and  at  the  same  time  alarmed  by  the  threats  of  war 
that  tlie  adversaries  did  not  cease  from  uttering, 
thought  it  his  duty  to  purchase  peace  at  any  cost, 
and  resolved,  in  consequence,  to  descend  in  his  pro- 
positions as  low  as  possible.  He  therefore  demanded 
an  interview  with  the  legate,  in  a  letter  whose  authen- 
ticity has  been  unreasonably  doubted.  At  the  decisive 
moment  the  heart  of  the  reform  champion  fails, — his 
head  turns — he  staggers — he  falls ;  and  in  his  fall  he 
runs  the  risk  of  dragging  with  him  the  cause  which 
martyrs  have  already  watered  with  their  blood. 

Thus  speaks  the  representative  of  the  Reformation 
to  the  representative  of  the  Papacy : — 

"  There  is  no  doctrine  in  which  we  differ  from  the 
Roman  Church  ;  we  venerate  the  universal  authority  of 
the  Roman  Pontiff,  and  we  are  ready  to  obey  him, 
provided  he  does  not  reject  us,  and  that  of  his  clem- 
ency, which  he  is  accustomed  to  shew  towards  all 
nations,  he  will  kindly  pardon  or  approve  certain  little 
things  that  it  is  no  longer  possible  for  us  to  change. 
,  ,  =  Now,  tlien,  will  you  reject  those  who  appear 
as  suppliants  before  you  ?  Will  you  pursue  them  with 
fire  and  sword  ?  .  .  .  Alas !  notliing  draws  upon 
us  in  Germany  so  mucli  hatred,  as  the  unshaken  firm- 
ness with  which  we  maintain  the  doctrines  of  the 
Roman  Church.  But  with  the  aid  of  God,  we  will 
remain  faitliful,  even  unto  death,  to  Christ  and  to  the 
Roman  Church,  although  you  should  reject  us." 

Thus  did  Melancthon  humble  himself.  God  per- 
mitted this  fall,  that  future  ages  might  clearly  see  how 
low  the  Reformation  was  willing  to  descend  in  order  to 
maintain  unity,  and  that  no  one  miglit  doubt  that  the 
schism  had  come  from  Rome ;  but  also,  assuredly,  that 
they  might  learn  how  great,  in  every  important  work, 
is  tlie  weakness  of  the  noblest  instruments. 

Fortunately  there  was  then  another  man  who  up- 
held the  honour  of  the  Reformation.  At  this  very 
time  Luther  wrote  to  Melancthon :  "  There  can  be  no 
concord  between  Christ  and  Belial.  As  far  as  regards 
me,  I  will  not  yield  a  hair's-brcadth.     Sooner  than 


LUTHER  OPPOSES  CONCESSION 


yield,  I  should  prefer  suffering  everything;,  even  the 
most  terrible  evils.  Concede  so  much  the  less,  as  your 
adversaries  require  the  more.  God  will  not  aid  us 
until  we  ai-e  abandoned  by  all."  And  fearing  some 
weakness  on  the  part  of  his  friends,  Luther  added: 
"If  it  were  not  tempting  God,  you  would  long  ago 
have  seen  me  at  your  side !" 

Never,  in  fact,  had  Luther's  presence  been  so  neces- 
sary, for  the  legate  had  consented  to  an  interview,  and 
Melancthon  was  about  to  pay  court  to  Campcggio. 

The  8th  of  July  wixs  the  day  appointed  by  the 
legate.  His  letter  inspired  Philip  with  the  most  san- 
guine hopes.  "  The  cardinal  assures  me  that  he  will 
accede  the  usage  of  the  two  kinds,  and  the  marriage  of 
priests,"  said  he ;  "  I  am  eager  to  visit  him !" 

This  visit  might  decide  the  destiny  of  the  Church. 
If  the  legate  accepted  Philip's  ultimatum,  the  evangeli- 
cal countries  would  be  replaced  under  the  power  of  the 
Romish  bishops,  and  all  would  have  been  over  with 
the  Reformation ;  but  it  was  saved  through  the  pride 
and  blindness  of  Rome.  The  Papists,  believing  it  on 
the  brink  of  the  abyss,  thought  that  a  last  blow  would 
settle  it,  and  resolved,  like  Luther,  to  concede  nothing, 
"not  even  a  hair's-breadth."  The  legate,  however, 
even  while  refusing,  assumed  an  air  of  kindness,  and 
of  yielding  to  foreign  influence.  "I  might  have  the 
power  of  making  certain  concessions,  but  it  would  not 
be  prudent  to  use  it  without  the  consent  of  the  German 
princes  ;  their  will  must  be  done ;  one  of  them,  in  par- 
ticular, conjures  the  emperor  to  prevent  us  from  yield- 
ing the  least  thing.  I  can  grant  nothing."  The  Roman 
prince,  with  the  most  amiable  smile,  then  did  all  he 
could  to  gain  the  chief  of  the  Protestant  teachers. 
Melancthon  retired  filled  with  shame  at  the  advances 
he  had  made,  but  still  deceived  by  Canipeggio.  "No 
doubt,"  said  he,  "  Eck  and  Cochloeus  have  been  before- 
hand with  me  at  the  legate's."  Luther  entertained  a  dif- 
ferent opinion.  "  I  do  not  trust  to  any  of  these  Italians," 
said  he ;  "  they  are  scoundrels.  When  an  Italian  is 
good,  he  is  very  good ;  but  then  he  is  a  black  swan." 

It  was  truly  the  Italians  who  were  concerned. 
Shortly  after  the  12  th  of  July  arrived  the  pope's 
instructions.  He  had  received  the  Confession  by  ex- 
press, and  sixteen  days  had  sufficed  for  the  transmis- 
sion, the  deliberation,  and  the  return.  Clement  would 
hear  no  mention  either  of  discussions  or  of  council. 
Charles  was  to  march  straight  to  the  mark,  to  send  an 
army  into  Germany,  and  stifle  the  Reformation  by 
force.  At  Augsburg,  however,  it  was  thought  best 
not  to  go  so  quickly  to  work,  and  recourse  was  had  to 
other  means. 

"  Be  quiet ;  we  have  them,"  said  the  Romish  doctors. 
Sensible  of  the  reproach  that  had  been  made  against 
them,  of  having  misrepresented  the  Reformation,  they 
accused  the  Protestants  themselves  of  being  the  cause. 
"These  it  is,"  they  said,  "who  to  give  themselves  an 
air  of  being  in  accord  with  us,  now  dissemble  their 
heresy;  but  we  will  catch  them  in  their  own  nets.  If 
they  confess  to  not  having  inserted  in  their  Confession 
all  that  they  reject,  it  will  be  proved  that  they  are 
trifling  with  us.  If,  on  the  contrary,  they  pretend  to 
have  said  everything,  they  will  by  that  very  circum- 
stance be  compelled  to  admit  all  that  they  have  not 
condemned."    The  Protestant  princes  were,  therefore, 


called  together,  and  they  were  asked  if  the  Reforma- 
tion was  confined  to  the  doctrines  indicated  in  the 
Apology,  or  if  there  was  something  more. 

The  snare  was  skilfully  laid.  Tlie  Papacy  had  not 
even  been  mentioned  in  Melancthon's  Confession ;  other 
errors  besides  had  been  omitted,  and  Luther  himself 
complained  of  it  aloud.  "  Satan  sees  clearly,"  said  he, 
"  that  your  Apology  has  passed  lightly  over  the  articles 
of  purgatory,  the  worship  of  saints,  and,  above  all,  of 
the  Pojjc  and  of  Antichrist."  The  princes  requested 
to  confer  with  their  allies  of  the  towns ;  and  all  the 
Protestants  assembled  to  deliberate  on  this  momentous 
incident. 

They  looked  for  Melancthon's  explanation,  who  did 
not  decline  the  responsibility  of  the  affair.  Easily  de- 
jected through  his  own  anxiety,  he  became  bold  when- 
ever he  was  directly  attacked.  "All  the  essential 
doctrines,"  said  he,  "  have  been  set  forth  in  the  Con- 
fession, and  every  error  and  abuse  that  is  opposed  to 
them  has  been  pointed  out.  But  was  it  necessary  to 
plunge  into  all  those  questions,  so  full  of  contention  and 
animosity,  that  are  discussed  in  our  universities  ?  AVas 
it  necessary  to  ask  if  all  Christians  are  priests,  if  the 
primacy  of  the  pope  is  of  right  Divine,  if  there  can  be 
indulgences,  if  every  good  work  is  a  deadly  sin,  if  there 
are  more  than  seven  sacraments,  if  they  may  be  ad- 
ministered by  a  layman,  if  Divine  election  has  any 
foundation  in  our  own  merits,  if  sacerdotal  consecra- 
tion impresses  an  indelible  character,  if  auricular  con- 
fession is  necessary  to  salvation  ?  .  .  .  No,  no ! 
all  these  things  are  in  the  province  of  the  schools,  and 
by  no  means  essential  to  faith." 

It  cannot  be  denied  that  in  the  questions  thus  pointed 
out  by  Melancthon  there  were  important  points.  How- 
ever that  may  be,  the  evangelical  committee  were  soon 
agreed,  and  on  the  morrow  they  gave  an  answer  to 
Charles's  ministers,  drawn  up  with  as  much  frankness 
as  firmness,  in  which  they  said,  "  that  the  Protestants, 
desirous  of  arriving  at  a  cordial  understanding,  had  not 
wished  to  complicate  their  situation,  and  had  proposed 
not  to  specify  all  the  errors  that  had  been  introduced 
into  the  Church,  but  to  confess  all  the  doctrines  that 
were  essential  to  salvation ;  that  if,  nevertheless,  the 
adverse  party  felt  itself  urged  to  maintain  certain 
abuses,  or  to  put  forward  any  point  not  mentioned  in 
the  Confession,  the  Protestants  declared  themselves 
ready  to  reply  in  conformity  with  the  Word  of  God." 
The  tone  of  this  answer  shewed  pretty  clearly  that  the 
evangelical  Christians  did  not  fear  to  follow  their 
adversaries  wherever  the  latter  should  call  them. 
Accordingly  the  Roman  party  said  no  more  on  this 
business. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

The  Refutation— Charles's  Dissatisfaction— Interview  with  the  Princes— 
Tlie  Swiss  at  Augsburg— Tetrapolitan  Confession— Zwingle's  Confession 
—Afflicting  Dirisions— The  Elector's  Faith— His  Peace— The  Lion's 
Skin— The  Refutation— One  Concession— Scripture  and  the  Hierarchy 
— Imperial  Commands — Interview  between  Melancthon  and  Campeggio 
—Policy  of  Charles— Stormy  Meeting— Resolutions  of  the  Consistory— 
Tlie  Prayers  of  the  Church— Tivo  Miracles— The  Emperor's  Menace— 
The  Princes'  Coiuage— The  Mssk— Negotiations— The  Spectres  at  Spires 
—Tumult  in  Augstui-g. 

The  commission  charged  to  refute  the  Confession  met 


470 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


twice  a-day,  and  each  of  the  theologians  who  composed 
it  added  to  it  his  refutations  and  his  hatred. 

Ou  the  13th  July  the  work  was  finished.  "Eck, 
with  his  band,"  said  Melancthon,  "transmitted  it  to 
the  emperor."  Great  was  the  astonishment  of  this 
prince  and  of  his  ministers  at  seeing  a  work  of  two 
hundred  and  eighty  pages  filled  with  abuse.  "Bad 
workmen  waste  much  wood,"  said  Luther,  "  and  im- 
pious writers  soil  much  paper."  This  was  not  all :  to 
the  Refutation  were  subjoined  eight  appendices  on  the 
heresies  that  Melancthon  had  dissembled,  (as  they  said,) 
and  wherein  they  exposed  the  contradictions  and  "the 
horrible  sects  "  to  which  Lutheranism  had  given  birth. 
Lastly,  not  confining  themselves  to  this  official  answer, 
the  Eomish  theologians,  who  saw  the  sun  of  power 
shining  upon  them,  filled  Augsburg  with  insolent  and 
abusive  pamphlets. 

There  was  but  one  opinion  on  the  Papist  Refutation ; 
it  was  found  confused,  violent,  thirsting  for  blood. 
Charles  the  Fifth  had  too  much  good  taste  not  to  per- 
ceive the  difference  that  existed  between  this  coarse 
work  and  the  noble  dignity  of  Melancthou's  Confes- 
sion. He  rolled,  handled,  crushed,  and  so  damaged 
the  two  hundred  and  eighty  pages  of  his  doctors,  that 
when  he  returned  them  two  days  after,  says  Spalatin, 
there  were  not  more  than  twelve  entire.  Charles 
would  have  beeu  ashamed  to  have  such  a  pamphlet 
read  in  the  diet,  and  he  required,  in  consequence,  that 
it  should  be  drawn  up  anew,  shorter,  and  in  more 
moderate  language.  That  was  not  easy,  "for  the 
adversaries,  confused  and  stupified,"  says  Brentz,  "  by 
the  noble  simplicity  of  the  evangelical  Confession, 
neither  know  where  to  begin  nor  where  to  end ;  they 
accordingly  took  nearly  three  weeks  to  do  their  work 
over  again." 

Charles  and  his  ministers  had  great  doubts  of  its 
success ;  leaving,  therefore,  the  theologians  for  a  mo- 
ment, they  imagined  another  manoeuvre.  "Let  us 
take  each  of  the  Protestant  princes  separately,"  said 
they:  "isolated,  they  will  not  resist."  Accordingly, 
on  the  15th  July,  the  Margrave  of  Brandenburg  was 
visited  by  his  two  cousins,  the  Electors  of  Mentz  and 
of  Brandenburg,  and  by  his  two  brothers,  the  Mar- 
graves Frederick  and  John  Albert.  "  Abandon  this 
new  faith,"  said  they  to  him,  "and  return  to  that 
which  existed  a  century  ago.  If  you  do  so,  there  are 
no  favours  that  you  may  not  expect  from  the  emperor ; 
if  not,  di'ead  his  auger." 

Shortly  after,  the  Duke  Frederick  of  Bavaria,  the 
Count  of  Nassau,  De  Rogendorf,  and  Truchses,  were 
announced  to  the  elector  on  the  part  of  Charles. 
"  You  have  solicited  the  emperor,"  said  they,  "  to 
confirm  the  marriage  of  your  son  with  the  Princess  of 
Juliers,  and  to  invest  you  with  the  electoral  dignity; 
but  his  majesty  declares,  that  if  you  do  not  renounce 
the  heresy  of  Luther,  of  which  you  are  the  principal 
abettor,  he  cannot  accede  to  your  demand."  At  the 
same  time,  the  Duke  of  Bavaria,  employing  the  most 
urgent  solicitations,  accompanied  with  the  most  ani- 
mated gestures  and  the  most  sinister  threats,  called 
upon  the  elector  to  abandon  his  faith.  "It  is  asserted," 
added  Charles's  envoys,  "  that  you  have  made  an  alli- 
ance with  the  Swiss.  The  emperor  cannot  believe  it ; 
and  he  orders  you  to  let  him  know  the  truth." 


The  Swiss !  it  was  the  same  thing  as  rebellion.  Tliis 
alliance  was  the  phantom  incessantly  invoked  at  Augs- 
burg to  alarm  Charles  the  Fifth.  And  in  reality, 
deputies,  or,  at  least,  friends  of  the  Swiss,  had  already 
appeared  in  that  city,  and  thus  rendered  the  position 
still  more  serious. 

Bucer  had  arrived  two  days  before  the  reading  of 
the  Confession,  and  Capito  on  the  day  subsequent  to  it. 
There  was  even  a  report  that  Zwingle  would  join  them. 
But  for  a  long  time  all  in  Augsburg,  except  the  Stras- 
burg  deputation,  were  ignorant  of  the  presence  of  these 
doctors.  It  was  only  twenty-one  days  after  their 
arrival  that  Melancthon  learnt  it  positively,  so  great 
was  the  mystery  in  which  the  Zwinglians  were  forced 
to  enshroud  themselves.  This  was  not  without  reason  ; 
a  conference  with  Melancthon  having  been  requested 
by  them:  "Let  them  write,"  replied  he;  "I  should 
compromise  our  cause  by  an  interview  with  them." 

Bucer  and  Capito  in  their  retreat,  which  was  like  a 
prison  to  them,  had  taken  advantage  of  their  leisure  to 
draw  up  the  "  Tetrapolitan  Confession,"  or  the  Con- 
fession of  the  four  cities.  The  deputies  of  Strasburg, 
Constance,  Memmingen,  and  Lindau,  presented  it  to 
the  emperor.  These  cities  purged  themselves  from  the 
reproach  of  war  and  revolt  that  had  been  continually 
objected  against  them.  They  declared  that  their  only 
motive  was  Christ's  glory,  and  professed  the  truth 
"freely,  boldly,  but  without  insolence  and  without 
scurrility." 

Zwingle,  about  the  same  time,  caused  a  private  Con- 
fession to  be  communicated  to  Charles,  which  excited 
a  general  uproar.  "  Does  he  not  dare  to  say,"  ex- 
claimed the  Romanists,  "  that  the  mitred  and  ivitliered 
race  (by  which  he  means  the  bishops)  is,  in  the  Church, 
what  hump-backs  and  the  scrofula  are  in  the  body?" 
— "Does  he  not  insinuate,"  said  the  Lutherans;  "that 
we  are  beginning  to  look  back  after  the  onions  and 
garlic  of  Egypt?" — "One  might  say  with  great  truth 
that  he  had  lost  his  senses,"  exclaimed  Melancthon. 
"  All  ceremonies,  accoi-ding  to  him,  ought  to  be  abol- 
ished ;  all  the  bishops  ought  to  be  suppressed.  In  a 
word,  all  is  perfectly  Helvetic,  that  is  to  say,  supremely 
barbarous." 

One  man  formed  an  exception  to  this  concert  of 
reproaches,  and  this  was  Luther.  "Zwingle  pleases 
me  tolerably,"  wrote  he  to  Jonas,  "  as  well  as  Bucer." 
By  Bucer,  he  meant,  no  doubt,  the  "Tetrapolitan 
Confession  :"  this  expression  should  be  noted. 

Thus  three  Confessions,  laid  at  the  feet  of  Charles 
the  Fifth,  attested  the  divisions  that  were  rending 
Protestantism.  In  vain  did  Bucer  and  Capito  en- 
deavour to  come  to  an  understanding  with  Melanctiiou, 
and  write  to  him :  "  We  will  meet  where  you  will,  and 
when  you  will ;  we  will  bring  Sturm  alone  with  us, 
and,  if  you  desire  it,  we  will  not  even  bring  him."  All 
was  unavailing.  It  is  not  enough  for  a  Christian  to 
confess  Christ ;  one  disciple  shoidd  confess  another 
disciple,  even  if  the  latter  lies  under  the  shame  of  the 
world ;  but  they  did  not  then  comprehend  this  duty. 
"  Schism  is  in  the  schism,"  said  the  Romanists,  and  the 
emperor  flattered  himself  with  an  easy  victory.  "  Re- 
turn to  the  Church,"  was  the  cry  from  every  side,  "  which 
means,"  interrupted  the  Strasburgers,  "  let  us  put  the 
bit  in  your  mouths,  that  we  may  lead  you  as  we  please." 


THE  ELECTOR'S  FAITH. 


471 


All  these  things  deeply  afllicted  the  elector,  who  was, 
besides,  still  under  the  burden  of  Charles's  demauils 
and  threats.  The  emperor  had  not  once  spoken  to 
him,  and  it  was  everywhere  said  that  his  cousin, 
George  of  Saxony,  would  bo  proclaimed  elector  in  his 
stead. 

On  the  28th  July,  there  was  a  great  festival  at  the 
court.  Charles,  robed  in  his  imperial  garments,  whose 
value  was  said  to  exceed  200,000  gold  ducats,  and  dis- 
playing an  air  of  majesty  which  impressed  respect  and 
fear,  conferred  on  many  princes  the  investiture  of  their 
dignities ;  the  elector  alone  was  excluded  from  these 
favours.  Erelong  he  was  made  to  understand  more 
plainly  what  was  reserved  for  him,  and  it  was  insinu- 
ated, that  if  he  did  not  submit,  the  emperor  would 
expel  him  from  his  states,  and  inflict  upon  him  the 
severest  punishment. 

The  elector  turned  pale,  for  he  doubted  not  that 
such  would  certainly  be  the  termination.  How,  with 
his  small  territory,  could  he  resist  that  powerful  mon- 
arch who  had  Just  vanquished  France  and  Italy,  and 
now  saw  Germany  at  his  feet?  And  besides,  if  he 
could  do  it,  had  he  the  right?  Frightful  night- 
marcs  pursued  John  in  his  dreams.  He  beheld  him- 
self stretched  beneath  an  immense  mountain,  under 
which  he  lay  painfully  struggling,  while  his  cousin, 
George  of  Saxony,  stood  on  the  summit  and  seemed  to 
brave  him. 

John  at  length  came  forth  from  this  furnace.  "I 
must  either  renounce  God  or  the  world,"  said  he. 
"Well!  ray  choice  is  not  doubtful.  It  is  God  who 
made  me  elector, — me,  who  was  not  worthy  of  it.  I 
fling  myself  into  His  arms,  and  let  Him  do  with  me 
what  shall  seem  good  to  Him."  Thus  the  elector  by 
faith  stopped  the  moutlis  of  lions,  and  stcbducd  kingdoms, 
(Heb.  xi.  33,  34.) 

All  evangelical  Christendom  had  taken  part  in  the 
struggle  of  John  the  Persevering.  It  was  seen  that  if 
he  should  now  fall,  all  would  fall  with  him  ;  and  they 
endeavoured  to  support  him.  "Fear  not,"  cried  the 
Christians  of  Magdeburg,  "  for  your  highness  is  under 
Christ's  banner."  "  Italy  is  in  expectation,"  wrote 
they  f roni  Venice ;  "  if  for  Christ's  glory  you  must  die, 
fear  nothing."  But  it  was  from  a  higher  source  that 
John's  courage  was  derived.  /  beheld  Satan  as  liffht- 
ninrj  fall  from  heaven,  said  his  Master,  (Luke  x.  18.) 
The  elector,  in  like  manner,  beheld  in  his  dreams 
George  fall  from  the  top  of  the  mountain,  and  lie 
dashed  in  pieces  at  his  feet. 

Once  resolved  to  lose  everything,  .John,  free,  happy, 
and  tranquil,  assembled  his  theologians.  These  gener- 
ous men  desired  to  save  their  master.  '  Gracious  lord," 
said  Spalatin,  "  recollect  that  the  Word  of  God,  being 
the  sword  of  the  Spirit,  must  be  upheld,  not  by  the 
secular  power,  but  by  tlic  hand  of  the  Almighty." — 
"Yes  !"  said  all  the  doctors,  "we  do  not  wish  that,  to 
save  us,  you  should  risk  your  children,  your  subjects, 
your  states,  your  crown.  .  .  .  We  will  rather  give 
ourselves  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy,  and  conjure  him 
to  be  satisfied  with  our  blood."  John,  touched  by  this 
language,  refused,  however,  their  solicitations,  and 
firmly  repeated  these  words,  which  had  become  his 
device :  "  I  also  desire  to  confess  my  Saviour." 

It  was  on  the  20th  July  that  he  replied  to  the  press- 


ing arguments  by  which  Charles  had  endeavoured  to 
shake  him.  He  proved  to  the  emperor  that,  being  his 
brother's  legitimate  heir,  he  could  not  refuse  him  the 
investiture  which,  besides,  the  Diet  of  AVorms  had 
secured  to  him.  He  added,  that  he  did  not  blindly 
believe  what  his  doctors  said  ;  but  that,  having  recog- 
nised the  Word  of  God  to  be  the  foundation  of  their 
teaching,  he  confessed  anew,  and  without  any  hesita- 
tion, all  the  articles  of  the  Apology.  "I  therefore 
entreat  your  majesty,"  continued  he,  "  to  permit  me 
and  mine  to  render  an  account  to  God  alone  of  what 
concerns  the  salvation  of  our  souls."  The  Margrave  of 
Brandenburg  made  the  same  reply.  Thus  failed  this 
skilful  manccuvre,  by  which  the  Romanists  had  hoped 
to  break  tlie  strength  of  the  Reformation. 

Six  weeks  had  elapsed  since  the  Confession,  and 
as  yet  there  was  no  reply.  "  The  Papists,  from  the 
moment  they  heard  the  Apology,"  it  was  said,  "  sud- 
denly lost  their  voice."  At  length  the  Romish  theo- 
logians handed  their  revised  and  corrected  performance 
to  the  emperor,  and  persuaded  this  prince  to  present  it 
in  his  own  name.  The  mantle  of  the  State  seemed  to 
them  admirably  adapted  to  the  movements  of  Rome. 
"These  sycophants,"  said  Melancthou,  "have  desired 
to  clothe  themselves  with  the  lion's  skin,  to  appear  to 
us  so  much  the  more  terrible."  All  the  states  of  the 
empire  were  convoked  for  the  next  day  but  one. 

On  Wednesday,  3d  August,  at  two  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon,  the  emperor,  sitting  on  his  throne  in  the 
chapel  of  the  Palatinate  Palace,  attended  by  his  brother, 
with  the  electors,  princes,  and  deputies,  the  Elector  of 
Saxony  and  his  allies  were  introduced,  and  the  count- 
palatine,  who  was  called  "  Charles's  mouthpiece,"  said 
to  them :  "  His  majesty  having  handed  your  Confession 
to  several  doctors  of  different  nations,  illustrious  by 
their  knowledge,  their  morals,  and  their  impartiality, 
has  read  their  reply  with  the  greatest  care,  and  submits 
it  to  you  as  his  own." 

Alexander  Schweiss  then  took  the  papers  and  read 
the  Refutation.  The  Roman  party  approved  some 
articles  of  the  Confession,  condemned  others,  and  in 
certain  less  salient  passages,  it  distinguished  between 
what  must  be  rejected  and  what  accepted. 

It  gave  way  on  an  important  point ;  the  opus  opera- 
turn.  The  Protestants  having  said  in  their  13th  article 
that  faith  was  necessary  in  the  sacrament,  the  Romish 
party  assented  to  it ;  thus  abandoning  an  error  which 
the  Papacy  had  so  earnestly  defended  against  Luther 
in  that  very  city  of  Augsburg,  by  the  mouth  of  Cajetan. 

Moreover,  they  recognised  as  truly  Christian  the 
evangelical  doctrine  on  the  Trinity,  on  Christ,  on  bap- 
tism, on  eternal  punishment,  and  on  the  origin  of  evil. 

But  on  all  the  other  points,  Charles,  his  princes, 
and  his  theologians,  declared  themselves  immoveable. 
They  maintained  that  men  are  born  with  the  fear  of 
God,  that  good  works  are  meritorious,  and  that  they 
justify  in  union  with  faith.  They  upheld  the  seven 
sacraments,  the  mass,  transubstantiation,  the  with- 
drawal of  the  cup,  the  celibacy  of  priests,  the  invoca- 
tion of  saints,  and  denied  that  the  Church  was  an 
assembly  of  the  saints. 

This  Refutation  was  skilful  in  some  respects,  and, 
above  all,  iu  what  concerned  the  doctrine  of  works  and 
of  faith.    But  on  other  points, — ^in  particular,  on  the 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


withdrawal  of  the  cup  and  the  celibacy  of  priests, — 
its  arguments  were  lamentably  weak,  and  contrary  to 
the  weU-known  facts  of  history. 

While  the  Protestants  had  taken  their  stand  on 
the  Scriptures,  their  adversaries  supported  the  Divine 
origin  of  the  hierarchy,  and  laid  down  absolute  submis- 
sion to  its  laws.  Thus,  the  essential  character  which 
still  distinguishes  Rome  from  the  Reformation,  stood 
prominently  forth  in  this  first  combat. 

Among  the  auditors  who  flUed  the  chapel  of  the 
Palatinate  Palace,  concealed  in  the  midst  of  the  depu- 
ties of  Nuremberg,  was  Joachim  Camerarius,  who, 
while  Schweiss  was  reading,  leant  over  his  tablets, 
and  carefully  noted  down  all  he  could  collect.  At  the 
same  time  others  of  the  Protestants,  speaking  to  one 
another,  were  indignant,  and  even  laughed,  as  one  of 
theu-  opponents  assures  us.  "  Really,"  said  they,  with 
one  consent,  "  the  whole  of  this  Refutation  is  worthy 
of  Eck,  Faber,  and  Cochloeus !" 


^c^      . 


As  for  Charles,  little  pleased  with  these  theological 
dissertations,  he  slept  during  the  reading;  but  he  awoke 
when  Schweiss  had  finished,  and  his  awakening  was 
that  of  a  lion. 

The  count-palatine  then  declared  that  his  majesty 
found  the  articles  of  this  Refutation  orthodox,  catholic, 
and  conformable  to  the  Gospel ;  that  he,  therefore,  re- 
quired the  Protestants  to  abandon  their  Confession, 
now  refuted,  and  to  adhere  to  all  the  articles  which 
had  just  been  set  forth;  that,  if  they  refused,  the 
emperor  would  remember  his  office,  and  would  know 
how  to  shew  himself  the  advocate  and  defender  of  the 
Roman  Church. 

This  language  was  clear  enough :  the  adversaries 
imagined  they  had  refuted  the  Protestants  by  com- 
manding the  latter  to  consider  themselves  beaten. 
Violence — arms — war— were  all  contained  in  these 
cruel  words  of  Charles's  minister.  The  princes  repre- 
sented that,  as  the  Refutation  adopted  some  of  their 
articles,  and  rejected  others,  it  required  a  careful 
examination,  and  they  consequently  begged  a  copy 
should  be  given  them. 

The  Romish  party  had  a  long  conference  on  this 
demand :  night  was  at  hand ;  the  count-palatine  replied 


that,  considering  the  late  hour,  and  the  importance  of 
this  affair,  the  emperor  would  make  known  his  plea- 
sure somewhat  later.  The  diet  separated,  and  Charles 
the  Fifth,  exasperated  at  the  audacity  of  the  evangeli- 
cal princes,  says  Cochloeus,  returned  in  ill-humour  to 
his  apartments. 

The  Protestants,  on  the  contrary,  withdrew  full  of 
peace ;  the  reading  of  the  Refutation  having  given 
them  as  much  confidence  as  that  of  the  Confession 
itself.  They  saw  in  their  adversaries  a  strong  attach- 
ment to  the  hierarchy,  but  a  great  ignorance  of  the 
Gospel — a  characteristic  feature  of  the  Romish  party; 
and  this  thought  encouraged  them.  "  Certainly,"  said 
they,  "  the  Church  cannot  be  where  there  is  no  know- 
ledge of  Christ." 

Melancthon  alone  was  still  alarmed :  he  walked  by 
sight,  and  not  by  faith  ;  and,  remembering  the  legate's 
smiles,  he  had  another  interview  with  him,  as  early  as 
the  4th  August,  stUl  demanding  the  cup  for  the  laity, 
and  lawful  wives  for  the  priests.  "Then,"  said  he, 
"  our  pastors  will  place  themselves  again  under  the 
government  of  bishops,  and  we  shall  be  able  to  prevent 
those  innumerable  sects  with  which  posterity  is  threat- 
ened." Melancthon's  glance  into  the  future  is  remark- 
able :  it  does  not,  however,  mean  that  he,  like  many 
others,  preferred  a  dead  unity  to  a  liviug  diversity. 

Campeggio,  now  certain  of  triumphing  by  the  sword, 
disdainfully  handed  this  paper  to  Cochloeus,  who  has- 
tened to  refute  it.  It  is  hard  to  say  whether  Melanc- 
thon or  Campeggio  was  the  more  infatuated.  God 
did  not  permit  an  arrangement  that  would  have  en- 
slaved His  Church. 

Charles  passed  the  whole  of  the  4th,  and  the  morn- 
ing of  the  5th  August,  in  consultation  with  the  Ultra- 
montane party.  "It  will  never  be  by  discussion  that 
we  shall  come  to  an  imderstanding,"  said  some,  "and 
if  the  Protestants  do  not  submit  voluntarily,  it  only 
remains  for  us  to  compel  them."  They  nevertheless 
decided,  on  account  of  the  Refutation,  to  adopt  a 
middle  course.  During  the  whole  of  the  diet  Charles 
pursued  a  skilful  policy.  At  first  he  refused  everything, 
hoping  to  lead  away  the  princes  by  violence ;  then  he 
conceded  a  few  unimportant  points,  under  the  impres- 
sion that  the  Protestants,  having  lost  all  hope,  would 
esteem  so  much  the  more  the  little  he  yielded  to  them. 
This  was  what  he  did  again  under  the  present  cir- 
cumstances. In  the  afternoon  of  the  5th,  the  count- 
palatine  announced  that  the  emperor  would  give  them 
a  copy  of  the  Refutation,  but  on  these  conditions, — 
namely,  that  the  Protestants  should  not  reply,  that 
they  should  speedily  agree  with  the  emperor,  and  that 
they  would  not  print  or  communicate  to  any  one  the 
Refutation  that  should  be  confided  to  them. 

This  communication  excited  murmurs  among  the 
Protestants.  "  These  conditions,"  said  they  all,  "  arc 
inadmissible." — "The  Papists  present  us  with  their 
paper,"  added  the  Chancellor  Bruck,  "as  the  fox 
offered  a  thin  broth  to  his  gossip  the  stork. 

The  savoury  broth  upon  a  plate  by  Reynard  was  served  up, 
But  Mistress  Stork,  with  her  long  beak,  she  could  not  get  a  sup  I 

If  the  Refutation,"  continued  he,  "  should  come  to  be 
known  without  our  participation,  (and  how  can  we 
prevent  it?)  we  shall  be  charged  with  it  as  a  crime. 


RESOLUTIONS  OF  THE  CONSISTORY. 


Let  us  bewnrfi  of  accepting  so  perfidious  an  offer.  "We 
already  possess  in  tlie  notes  of  Camcrarius  several 
articles  of  this  paper,  and  if  we  omit  any  point,  no 
cue  will  have  the  right  to  reproach  us  with  it." 

On  the  next  day  (6th  August)  the  Protestants  de- 
clared to  the  diet  that  they  preferred  declining  the 
copy  thus  offered  to  them,  and  appealed  to  God  and 
to  his  majesty.  Tliey  thus  rejected  all  that  the  em- 
peror proposed  to  them,  even  what  he  considered  as  a 
favour. 

Agitation,  anger,  and  affright,  were  manifested  on 
every  bench  of  that  august  assembly.  This  reply  of 
the  Evangelicals  was  war — was  rebellion.  George  of 
Saxony,  the  Princes  of  Bavaria,  all  the  violent  adher- 
ents of  Rome,  trembled  with  indignation;  there  was 
a  sudden,  an  impetuous  movement ;  an  explosion  of 
murmurs  and  of  hatred;  and  it  might  have  been 
feared  that  the  two  parties  would  have  come  to  blows 
in  the  very  presence  of  the  emperor,  if  Archbishop 
Albert,  the  Elector  of  Brandenburg,  and  the  dukes  of 
Brunswick,  Pomcrania,  and  Mecklenburg,  rushing  be- 
tween them,  had  not  conjured  the  Protestants  to  put 
an  end  to  this  deplorable  combat,  and  not  drive  the 
emperor  to  extremities.  The  diet  separated,  their 
hearts  filled  with  emotion,  apprehension,  and  trouble. 

Never  had  the  diet  proposed  such  fatal  alternatives. 
The  hopes  of  agreement,  set  forth  in  the  edict  of  con- 
vocation, had  only  been  a  deceitful  lure:  now  the  mask 
was  thrown  aside;  submission  or  tlie  sword — such 
was  the  dilemma  offered  to  the  Reformation.  All 
announced  that  the  day  of  tentatives  was  passed,  and 
that  they  were  beginning  one  of  violence. 

In  truth,  on  the  6th  July,  the  pope  had  assembled 
the  consistory  of  cardinals  in  his  palace  at  Rome,  and 
had  made  known  to  them  the  Protestant  ultimatum ; 
namely,  the  cup  for  the  laity,  the  marriage  of  priests, 
the  omission  of  the  invocation  of  saints  in  the  sacrifice 
of  the  mass,  the  use  of  ecclesiastical  property  already 
secularized,  and  for  the  rest,  the  convocation  of  a  coun- 
cil. "These  concessions,"  said  the  cardinals,  "are 
opposed  to  the  religion,  discipline,  and  laws  of  the 
Church.  We  reject  them,  and  vote  our  thanks  to  the 
emperor  for  the  zeal  which  he  employs  in  bringing 
back  the  deserters."  The  pope  having  thus  decided, 
every  attempt  at  conciliation  became  useless. 

Campeggio,  on  his  side,  redoubled  in  zeal.  Ke 
spoke  as  if  in  his  person  the  pope  himself  were  present 
at  Augsburg.  "Let  the  emperor  and  the  right-think- 
ing princes  form  a  league,"  said  he  to  Charles ;  "  and 
if  these  rebels,  equally  insensible  to  threats  and  pro- 
mises, obstinately  persist  in  their  diabolical  course,  then 
let  his  majesty  seize  fire  and  sword,  let  him  take  pos- 
session of  all  the  property  of  the  heretics,  and  utterly 
eradicate  these  venomous  plants.  Then  let  him  appoint 
holy  inquisitors,  who  shall  go  on  the  track  of  the  rem- 
nants of  Reformation,  and  proceed  against  them,  as 
in  Spain  against  the  Moors.  Let  him  put  the  univer- 
sity of  Wittemberg  under  ban,  burn  the  heretical 
books,  and  send  back  the  fugitive  monks  to  their 
convents.  But  this  plan  must  be  executed  with  cour- 
age." 

Thus  the  jurisprudence  of  Rome  consisted,  accord- 
ing to  a  prophecy  uttered  against  the  city  which  is 
seated  on  seven  hills,  in  adorning  itself  with  pearls  that 


it  had  stolen,  and  in  becoming  drunk  with  the  blood  of 
the  saints,  (Rev.  xvii.  and  xviii.) 

While  Cliarles  was  thus  urged  on  with  blind  fury 
by  the  diet  and  the  pope,  the  Protestant  princes,  re- 
strained by  a  mute  indignation,  did  not  open  their 
mouths,  and  hence  they  seemed  to  betr.ay  a  weakness 
of  which  the  emperor  was  eager  to  profit.  But  there 
was  also  strengtii  concealed  under  this  weakness. 
"  We  have  nothing  left,"  exclaimed  Melancthon,  "  but 
to  embrace  our  Saviour's  knees."  In  this  they  laboured 
earnestly.  Melancthon  begged  for  Lutlier's  prayers ; 
Brentz  for  those  of  his  own  church  :  a  general  cry  of 
distress  and  of  faith  ran  through  evangelical  Germany. 
"  You  shall  have  sheep,"  said  Brentz,  "  if  you  will  send 
us  sheep :  you  know  what  I  mean."  The  sheep  that 
were  to  be  offered  in  sacrifice  were  the  prayers  of  the 
saints. 

The  Church  was  not  wanting  to  itself.  "Assembled 
every  day,"  wrote  certain  cities  to  the  electors,  "  we 
beg  for  you  strength,  grace,  and  victory, — victory  full 
of  joy."  But  the  man  of  prayer  and  faith  was  espe- 
cially Luther.  A  calm  and  sublime  courage,  in  which 
firmness  shines  at  the  side  of  joy — a  courage  that  rises 
and  exults  in  proportion  as  the  danger  increases — is 
what  Luther's  letters  at  this  time  present  in  every  line. 
Tlie  most  poetical  images  are  pale  beside  those  ener- 
getic expressions  which  issue  in  a  boiling  torrent  from 
the  reformer's  soul.  "  I  have  recently  witnessed  two 
miracles,"  wrote  he,  on  the  5th  August,  to  Chancellor 
Bruck  ;  "  this  is  the  first :  as  I  was  at  my  window,  I 
saw  the  stars,  and  the  sky,  and  that  vast  and  magnifi- 
cent firmament  in  which  the  Lord  has  placed  them.  I 
could  nowhere  discover  the  columns  on  which  the 
Master  has  supported  this  immense  vault,  and  yet  the 
heavens  did  not  fall.     .     .     . 

"And  here  is  the  second:  I  beheld  thick  clouds 
hanging  above  us  like  a  vast  sea.  I  could  neither  per- 
ceive ground  on  which  they  reposed,  nor  cords  by 
which  they  were  suspended ;  and  yet  they  did  not  fall 
upon  us,  but  saluted  us  rapidly  and  fled  away. 

"God,"  continued  he,  "will  choose  the  manner,  the 
time,  and  the  place  suitable  for  deliverance,  and  He 
will  not  linger.  What  the  men  of  blood  have  begun, 
they  have  not  yet  finished.  .  .  .  Our  rainbow  is 
faint  .  .  .  their  clouds  are  threatening  .  .  . 
the  enemy  comes  against  us  with  frightful  machines. 
.  .  .  But  at  last  it  will  be  seen  to  whom  belong  the 
ballistoe,  and  from  what  hands  the  javelins  are  launched. 
It  is  no  matter  if  Luther  perishes :  if  Christ  is  con- 
queror, Luther  is  conqueror  also." 

The  Roman  party,  who  did  not  know  what  was  the 
victory  of  faith,  imagined  themselves  certain  of  suc- 
cess. 

The  doctors  having  refuted  the  Confession,  the  Pro- 
testants ought,  they  imagined,  to  declare  themselves 
convinced,  and  all  would  then  be  restored  to  its  ancient 
footing:  such  was  the  plan  of  the  emperor's  campaign. 
He  therefore  urged  and  called  upon  the  Protestants ; 
but,  instead  of  submitting,  they  announced  a  refuta- 
tion of  the  Refutation.  Upon  this  Charles  looked  at 
his  sword,  and  all  the  princes  who  surrounded  him  did 
the  same. 

John  of  Saxony  understood  what  that  meant,  but  he 
remained  firm.      "The  straight  line,"  said  he,  (the 


4V4 


HISTORY  OF  THE  KEFORMATION. 


axiom  was  familiar  to  him,)  "is  the  shortest  road." 
It  is  this  iudomitable  firmness  that  has  secured  for  him 
in  history  the  name  of  John  the  Persevering.  He  was 
not  alone :  all  those  Protestant  princes  who  had  grown 
up  in  the  midst  of  courts,  and  who  were  habituated  to 
pay  an  humble  obedience  to  the  emperor,  at  that  time 
found  in  their  faith  a  noble  independence  that  con- 
founded Cliarlcs  the  Fifth. 

With  the  design  of  gaining  the  Marquis  of  Branden- 
burg, they  opened  to  him  the  possibility  of  according 
him  some  possessions  in  Silesia  on  which  he  had  claims. 
"  If  Christ  is  Christ,"  replied  ho,  "  the  doctrine  that  I 
have  confessed  is  truth." — "  But  do  you  know,"  quickly 
replied  his  cousin,  the  Elector  Joachim,  "what  is  your 
stake?" — "Certainly,"  replied  the  margrave,  "it  is 
said  I  shall  be  expelled  from  this  country.  Well !  may 
God  protect  me!"  One  day  Prince  Wolfgang  of 
Anhalt  met  Doctor  Eck.  "  Doctor,"  said  he,  "  you 
are  exciting  to  war,  but  you  wiU  find  those  who  wiU 
not  be  behindhand  with  you.  I  have  broken  many  a 
lance  for  my  friends  in  my  time.  My  Lord  Jesus 
Christ  is  assuredly  worthy  tiiat  I  should  do  as  much 
for  Him." 

At  the  sight  of  this  resolution  each  one  asked  him- 
self whether  Cliarles,  instead  of  curing  the  disease, 
was  not  augmenting  it.  Reflections,  criticisms,  jests, 
passed  between  the  citizens ;  and  the  good  sense  of 
the  people  manifested  in  its  own  fashion  what  they 
thought  of  the  folly  of  their  chief.  We  will  adduce  one 
instance. 

It  is  said  that  one  day,  as  the  emperor  was  at  table 
with  several  Roman  Catholic  princes,  he  was  informed 
that  some  comedians  begged  permission  (according  to 
custom)  to  amuse  their  lordships.  First  appeared  an 
old  man  wearing  a  mask,  and  dressed  in  a  doctor's 
robe,  who  advanced  with  difiiculty,  carrying  a  bundle 
of  sticks  in  his  arms,  some  straight  and  some  crooked. 
He  approached  the  wide  fireplace  of  the  Gothic  hall, 
threw  down  his  load  in  disorder,  and  immediately 
withdrew.  Charles  aud  the  courtiers  read  on  his  back 
the  inscription — John  Reuciilin.  Then  appeared  an- 
other mask  with  an  intelligent  look,  who  made  every 
exertion  to  pare  the  straight  and  the  crooked  pieces ; 
but  finding  his  labour  useless,  he  shook  his  head, 
turned  to  the  door,  and  disappeared.  They  read— 
EEASJirs  OF  RoTTEEUAsr.  Almost  immediately  after 
advanced  a  monk  with  bright  eye  and  decided  gait, 
carrying  a  brazier  of  lighted  coals.  He  put  the  wood 
in  order,  set  fire  to  it,  blew  and  stirred  it  up,  so  that 
the  flame  rose  bright  and  sparkling  into  the  air.  He 
then  retired,  and  on  his  back  were  the  words — Martin 

LCTDEE. 

Next  approached  a  magnificent  personage,  covered 
with  all  the  imperial  insignia,  who,  seeing  the  fire  so 
bright,  drew  his  sword,  and  endeavoured  by  violent 
thrusts  to  extinguish  it ;  but  the  more  he  struck,  the 
fiercer  burnt  the  flames,  and  at  last  he  quitted  the 
hall  in  indignation.  His  name,  as  it  would  seem,  was 
not  made  known  to  the  spectators,  but  all  divined  it. 
The  general  attention  was  soon  attracted  by  a  new 
character.  A  man,  wearing  a  surplice  and  a  mantle 
of  red  velvet,  with  an  alb  of  white  wool  that  reached 
to  his  heels,  and  having  a  stole  around  his  neck,  the 
ends  ornamented  with  pearls,  advanced  majestically. 


Beholding  the  flames  that  already  filled  the  hearth,  he 
wrung  his  hands  in  terror,  and  looked  around  for 
something  to  extinguish  them.  He  saw  two  vessels  at 
the  very  extremity  of  the  hall,  one  filled  with  water, 
and  the  other  with  oil.  He  rushed  towards  them, 
seized  unwittingly  on  that  containing  the  oil,  and 
threw  it  on  tiie  tire.  The  flame  then  spread  with  such 
violence  that  the  mask  fled  in  alarm,  raising  his  hands 
to  heaven ;  on  his  back  was  read  the  name  of  Leo  X. 

The  mystery  was  finished ;  but  instead  of  claiming 
their  remuneration,  the  pretended  actors  had  disap- 
peared.    No  one  asked  the  moral  of  this  drama. 

The  lesson,  however,  proved  useless;  and  the  majority 
of  the  diet,  assuming,  at  the  same  time,  the  part  assigned 
to  the  emperor  and  the  pope,  began  to  prepare  the 
means  necessary  for  extinguishing  the  fire  kindled  by 
Luther.  They  negotiated  in  Italy  with  the  Duke  of 
Blantua,  who  engaged  to  send  a  few  regiments  of 
light  cavalry  across  the  Alps ;  and  in  England  with 
Henry  VIIJ.,  who  had  not  forgotten  Luther's  reply, 
and  who  promised  Charles,  through  his  ambassador, 
an  immense  subsidy  to  destroy  the  heretics. 

At  the  same  time  frightful  prodigies  announced  the 
gloomy  future  which  threatened  the  Reform.  At 
Spires  fearful  spectres,  in  the  shape  of  monks  with 
angry  eyes  and  hasty  steps,  had  appeared  during  the 
night.  "What  do  you  want?"  they  had  been  asked. 
— "  We  are  going,"  they  replied,  "  to  the  Diet  of  Augs- 
burg !"  The  circumstance  had  been  carefully  investi- 
gated, and  was  found  perfectly  trustworthy.  "The 
interpretation  is  not  difficult,"  exclaimed  Melancthon : 
"Evil  spirits  are  coming  to  Augsburg  to  counteract 
our  exertions,  and  to  destroy  peace.  They  forebode 
horrible  troubles  to  us."  No  one  doubted  this.  "Every- 
thing is  advancing  towards  war,"  said  Erasmus.  "The 
diet  will  not  terminate,"  wrote  Brentz,  "  except  by  the 
destruction  of  all  Germany."  "  There  will  be  a  slaugh- 
ter of  the  saints,"  exclaimed  Bucer,  "  which  will  be 
such  that  the  massacres  of  Diocletian  will  scarcely 
come  up  to  it."  War  and  blood — this  was  the  general 
cry. 

Suddenly,  on  the  night  of  Saturday,  6th  August, 
a  great  disturbance  bi'oke  out  in  the  city  of  Augsburg, 
There  was  running  to  and  fro  in  the  streets ;  messen- 
gers from  the  emperor  were  galloping  in  every  direc- 
tion ;  the  senate  was  called  together,  and  received  an 
order  to  allow  no  one  to  pass  the  gates  of  the  city. 
All  were  afoot  in  the  imperial  barracks ;  the  soldiers 
got  ready  their  arms ;  the  regiments  were  drawn  up, 
and  at  daybreak  (about  three  o'clock  on  Sunday  morn- 
ing) the  emperor's  troops,  in  opposition  to  the  custom 
always  observed  in  the  diet,  relieved  the  soldiers  of  the 
city,  and  took  possession  of  the  gates.     At  the  same 
time  it  was  reported  that  these  gates  would  not  be 
opened,  and  that  Charles  had  given  orders  to  keep  a 
strict  watch  upon  the  elector  and  his  allies.    A  terrible     i 
awakening   for   those   who    still   flattered    themselves     j 
with  seeing  the  religious  debates  conclude  peacefully!     j 
Might  not  these  unheard-of  measures  be  the  commence-     j 
ment  of  wars,  and  the  signal  of  a  frightful  massacre  ?       \ 


UNION  RESISTED— THE  LANDGRAVE'S  DISSIMULATION. 


475 


CHAPTER  X. 

riiilip  of  Hosso—Tomptation— Union  Resisted— The  Landgrave's  Dissimu- 
lation—The  Emperor's  Order  to  the  Protestants— Brandenburg's  Tln-eat- 
cning  Speeclies— Resolution  ot  PliiUp  of  Hesse— Flight  from  Augsburg 
— Discovery- Charles's  Emotion— Revolution  in  the  Diet— Metamor- 
phosis—Unusual  Moderation— Peace,  Peace ! 

Trouble  aud  anger  prevailed  in  the  imperial  palace, 
and  it  was  the  landgrave  who  had  caused  them.  Firm 
as  a  rock  in  the  midst  of  the  tempest  with  which  he 
was  surrounded,  Philip  of  Hesse  had  never  bent  his 
head  to  the  blast.  One  d.ay,  in  a  public  assembly, 
addressing  the  bishops,  he  had  said  to  them:  "My 
lords,  give  peace  to  the  empire ;  we  beg  it  of  you.  If 
you  will  not  do  so,  aud  if  I  must  fall,  be  sure  that  I 
will  drag  one  or  two  of  you  along  with  me."  They 
saw  it  was  necessary  to  employ  milder  means  with  him, 
and  the  emperor  endeavoured  to  gain  him  by  shewing 
a  favourable  disposition  with  respect  to  the  county  of 
Katzeuellenbogcn,  about  which  he  was  at  variance 
with  Nassau,  and  to  "Wurtemberg,  which  he  claimed 
for  his  cousin  Ulrich.  On  his  side,  Duke  George  of 
Saxony,  his  father-in-law,  had  assured  him  that  he 
woidd  make  him  his  heir  if  he  would  submit  to  the 
pope.  "They  carried  him  to  an  exceeding  high  moun- 
tain, whence  they  shewed  him  all  the  kingdoms  of  the 
world  and  the  glory  thereof,"  says  a  chronicler,  but  the 
landgrave  resisted  the  temptation. 

One  day  he  heard  that  the  emperor  had  manifested 
a  desire  to  speak  to  him.  He  leaped  instantly  on  his 
horse  and  appeared  before  Charles.  The  latter,  who 
had  with  him  his  secretary,  Schweiss,  and  the  Bishop 
of  Constance,  represented  that  he  had  four  complaints 
against  him ;  namely,  of  having  violated  the  Edict  of 
Worms,  of  despising  the  mass,  of  having,  during  his 
absence,  excited  all  kinds  of  revolt,  and,  finally,  of 
having  transmitted  to  him  a  book  in  which  his  sove- 
reign rights  were  attacked.  The  landgrave  justified 
himself ;  and  the  emperor  said  that  he  accepted  his 
replies,  except  with  regard  to  the  faith,  and  begged 
him  to  shew  himself  in  that  respect  entirely  submissive 
to  his  majesty.  "  What  would  you  say,"  added  Charles, 
in  a  winning  tone,  "if  I  elevated  you  to  the  regal 
dignity.  But  if  you  shew  yourself  rebellious  to  my 
orders,  then  I  shall  behave  as  becomes  a  Roman  em- 
peror." 

These  words  exasperated  the  landgrave,  but  they  did 
not  move  him.  "I  am  in  the  flower  of  my  age," 
replied  he,  "  and  I  do  not  pretend  to  despise  the  joys 
of  life  and  the  favour  of  the  great ;  but  to  the  deceit- 
ful goods  of  this  world  I  shall  always  prefer  the  inef- 
fable grace  of  my  God."  Charles  was  stupified :  he 
could  not  understand  Philip. 

From  this  time  the  landgrave  had  redoubled  his 
exertions  to  uuite  the  adherents  of  the  Reformation. 
The  Zwinglian  cities  felt  that,  whatever  was  the  issue 
of  the  diet,  they  would  be  the  first  victims,  unless  the 
Saxons  should  give  them  their  hand.  But  this  there 
was  some  dirticulty  in  obtaining. 

"  It  docs  not  appear  to  nie  useful  to  the  public  weal,' 
or  safe  for  the  conscience,"  wrote  Melancthon  to  Bucer, 
"  to  load  our  princes  with  all  the  hatred  yoiu-  doctrine 


inspires."  The  Strasburgcrs  replied,  that  the  real 
cause  of  the  Papists'  hatred  was  not  so  much  the 
doctrine  of  the  Eucharist,  as  that  of  justification  by 
faith.  "All  we,  who  desire  to  belong  to  Christ,"  said 
they,  "  are  one,  and  have  nothing  to  expect  but  death." 

This  was  true ;  but  another  motive  besides  checked 
Melancthon.  If  all  the  Protestants  united,  they  would 
feel  their  strength,  and  war  would  be  inevitable. 
Therefore,  then,  no  union ! 

The  landgrave,  threatened  by  the  emperor,  rejected 
by  the  theologians,  began  to  ask  himself  what  he  did 
at  Augsburg.  Tlie  cup  was  full.  Charles's  refusal  to 
communicate  the  Romish  Refutation,  except  on  inad- 
missible conditions,  made  it  run  over.  Philip  of  Hesse 
saw  but  one  course  to  take — to  quit  the  city. 

Scarcely  had  the  emperor  made  known  the  condi- 
tions which  he  placed  on  the  communication  of  the 
reply,  than  on  Friday  evening,  5th  August,  the  land- 
grave, going  alone  to  the  count-palatine,  Charles's  min- 
ister, had  begged  for  an  immediate  audience  with  his 
majesty.  Charles,  who  did  not  care  to  see  him,  pre- 
tended to  be  busy,  and  put  off  Philip  until  the  following 
Sunday.  But  the  latter  answered  that  ho  could  not 
wait ;  that  his  wife,  who  was  dangerously  ill,  entreated 
him  to  return  to  Hesse  without  delay;  and  that,  being 
one  of  the  youngest  princes,  the  meanest  in  understand- 
ing, and  useless  to  Charles,  he  humbly  begged  his 
majesty  would  permit  him  to  leave  on  the  morrow. 
The  emperor  refused. 

We  may  well  understand  the  storms  this  refusal  ex- 
cited in  Philip's  mind :  but  he  knew  how  to  contain 
himself;  never  had  he  appeared  more  tranquU;  during 
the  whole  of  Saturday  (6th  August)  he  seemed  occu- 
pied only  with  a  magnificent  tourney  in  honour  of  the 
emperor  and  of  his  brother  Ferdinand.  He  prepared 
for  it  publicly;  his  servants  went  to  aud  fro;  but  under 
that  din  of  horses  and  of  armour  Philip  concealed  very 
different  designs.  "  The  landgrave  conducts  himself 
with  very  great  moderation,"  wrote  Melancthon  to 
Luther  the  same  day.  "  He  told  me  openly  that,  to 
preserve  peace,  he  would  submit  to  conditions  still 
harder  than  those  which  the  emperor  imposes  on  us, 
and  accept  all  that  he  could  without  dishonouring  the 
Gospel." 

Yet  Charles  was  not  at  ease.  The  landgrave's  de- 
maud  pursued  him;  all  the  Protestants  might  do  the 
same,  and  even  quit  Augsburg  unexpectedly.  The 
clue,  that  he  had  hitherto  so  skilfully  held  in  his 
hands,  was  perhaps  about  to  be  broken :  it  was  better 
to  be  violent  than  ridiculous.  The  emperor,  therefore, 
resolved  on  striking  a  decisive  blow.  The  elector,  the 
princes,  the  deputies,  were  still  in  Augsburg;  and  he 
must  at  every  risk  prevent  their  leaving  it.  Such  were 
the  heavy  thoughts  that  on  the  night  of  the  6th  August, 
while  the  Protestants  were  calmly  sleeping,  banished 
repose  from  Charles's  eyes ;  and  which  made  him 
hastily  arouse  the  councillors  of  Augsburg,  and  send 
his  messengers  and  soldiers  through  the  streets  of  the 
city. 

The  Protestant  princes  were  still  slumbering,  when 
they  received,  on  the  part  of  the  emperor,  the  unex- 
•pccted  order  to  repair  immediately  to  the  hall  of  the 
Chapter. 

It  was  eight  o'clock  when  they  arrived.    They  found 


476 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


there  the  electors  of  Brandenburg  and  Mentz,  the 
dukes  of  Saxony,  Brunswick,  and  Mecklenburg;,  the 
bishops  of  Salzburg,  Spires,  and  Strasburg,  George 
Truchses,  the  margrave  of  Baden's  representative, 
Count  Martin  of  (Elting,  the  Abbot  of  Weingarten, 
and  the  Provost  of  Bamberg.  These  were  the  commis- 
sioners nominated  by  Charles  to  terminate  this  great 
affair. 

It  was  the  most  decided  among  them,  Joachim  of 
Brandenburg,  who  began  to  speak.  "  You  know," 
said  he  to  the  Protestants,  "  with  what  mildness  the 
emperor  has  endeavoured  to  re-establish  unity.  If 
some  abuses  have  crept  into  the  Christian  Church,  lie 
is  ready  to  correct  tliem  in  conjunction  with  the  pope. 
But  how  contrary  to  the  Gospel  are  the  sentiments 
you  have  adopted !  Abandon,  then,  your  errors,  do  not 
any  longer  remain  separate  from  the  Church,  and  sign 
the  Refutation  without  delay.  If  you  refuse,  then 
through  your  fault  how  many  souls  will  be  lost,  how 
much  blood  shed,  what  countries  laid  waste,  what 
trouble  in  all  the  empire !  And  you,"  said  he,  turning 
towards  the  elector,  "  your  electorate,  your  life,  all  will 
be  torn  from  you,  and  certain  ruin  will  fall  upon  your 
subjects,  and  even  upon  their  wives  and  children." 

The  elector  remained  motionless.  At  any  time  this 
language  would  have  been  alarming :  it  was  still  more 
60  now  that  the  city  was  almost  in  a  state  of  siege. 
"  We  now  understand,"  said  the  Protestants  to  one 
another,  "  why  the  imperial  guards  occupy  the  gates  of 
the  city."  It  was  evident,  indeed,  that  the  emperor 
intended  violence. 

The  Protestants  were  unanimous :  surrounded  with 
soldiers,  at  the  very  gates  of  the  prison,  and  beneath 
the  thousand  swords  of  Charles,  they  remained  firm. 
All  these  threats  did  not  make  them  take  one  step 
backwards.  It  was  important  for  them,  however,  to 
consider  their  reply.  They  begged  for  a  few  minutes' 
delay,  and  retired. 

To  submit  voluntarily,  or  to  be  reduced  by  force, 
such  was  the  dilemma  Charles  proposed  to  the  evan- 
gelical Christians. 

At  the  moment  when  each  was  anxious  about  the 
issue  of  this  struggle,  in  which  the  destinies  of  Christ- 
ianity were  contending,  an  alarming  rumour  suddenly 
raised  the  agitation  of  all  minds  to  its  height. 

The  landgrave,  in  the  midst  of  his  preparations  for 
the  tournament,  meditated  the  most  serious  resolution. 
Excluded  by  Charles  from  every  important  delibera- 
tion, irritated  at  the  treatment  the  Protestants  had 
undergone  during  this  diet,  convinced  that  they  had 
no  more  chance  of  peace,  not  doubting  that  their 
liberty  was  greatly  endangered  in  Augsburg,  and  feel- 
ing unable  to  conceal,  under  the  appearance  of  modera- 
tion, the  indignation  with  which  his  soul  was  filled, 
being,  besides,  of  a  quick,  prompt,  and  resolute  cliarac- 
ter,  Philip  had  decided  on  quitting  the  city  and  repair- 
ing to  his  states,  in  order  to  act  freely,  and  to  serve  as 
a  support  to  the  Reformation. 

But  what  mystery  was  required  !  If  the  landgrave 
was  taken  in  the  act,  no  doubt  he  would  be  put  under 
arrest.  This  daring  step  might,  therefore,  become  the 
signal  of  those  extreme  measures  from  which  he  longed 
to  escape. 

It  was  Saturday,  the  6th  August,  the  day  for  which 


Philip  had  requested  the  emperor's  leave  of  absence. 
He  waits  until  the  commencement  of  the  night,  and 
then,  about  eight  o'clock,  disguised  in  a  foreign  dress, 
without  bidding  farewell  to  any  of  his  friends,  and 
taking  every  imaginable  precaution,  he  makes  for  the 
gates  of  the  city,  about  the  time  when  they  are  usually 
closed.  Five  or  six  cavaliers  follow  him  singly,  and 
at  a  little  distance.  In  so  critical  a  moment  will  not 
these  men-at-arms  attract  attention?  Philip  traverses 
the  streets  without  dauger,  approaches  the  gate,  passes 
with  a  careless  air  through  the  midst  of  the  guard,  be- 
tween the  scattered  soldiers ;  no  one  moves,  all  remain 
idly  seated,  as  if  nothing  extraordinary  was  going  on. 
Philip  has  passed  without  being  recognised.  His  five 
or  six  horsemen  come  through  in  like  manner.  Behold 
them  all  at  last  in  the  open  country.  The  little  troop 
immediately  spur  their  horses,  and  tice  with  headlong 
speed  far  from  the  walls  of  the  imperial  city. 

Yet  Philip  has  taken  his  measures  so  well  that  no 
one  as  yet  suspects  his  departure.  When,  during  the 
night,  Charles  occupies  the  gates  with  his  own  guards, 
he  thinks  the  landgrave  still  in  the  city.  When  the 
Protestants  were  assembled  at  eight  in  the  morning  in 
the  Chapter-hall,  the  princes  of  both  parties  were  a 
little  astonished  at  the  absence  of  Philip  of  Hesse. 
Tliey  were  accustomed,  however,  to  see  him  keep  aloof, 
and  thought  he  might  be  out  of  humour.  No  one  ima- 
gined he  was  between  twelve  and  fifteen  leagues  from 
Augsburg. 

After  the  termination  of  the  conference,  and  as  all 
were  returning  to  their  hotels,  the  Elector  of  Branden- 
burg and  his  friends  on  the  one  hand,  elated  at  the 
speech  they  had  delivered,  the  Elector  of  Saxony  and 
his  allies  on  the  other,  resolved  to  sacrifice  everything, 
inquiries  were  made  at  the  landgrave's  lodgings  as  to 
the  reason  of  his  absence ;  they  closely  questioned 
vSaltz,  Nuszbicker,  Mayer,  and  Schnepf.  At  last  the 
Hessian  councillors  could  no  longer  keep  the  secret. 
"  The  landgrave,"  said  they,  "  has  returned  to  Hesse." 
This  news  circulated  immediately  through  all  the  city, 
and  shook  it  like  the  explosion  of  a  mine.  Charles 
especially,  who  found  himself  mocked  and  frustrated 
in  his  expectations — Charles,  who  had  not  had  the 
least  suspicion,  trembled,  and  was  enraged.  The  Pro- 
testants, whom  the  landgrave  had  not  admitted  to  his 
secret,  were  as  much  astonished  as  the  Roman  Catho- 
lics themselves,  and  feared  that  this  inconsiderate 
departure  might  be  the  immediate  signal  for  a  terrible 
persecution.  There  was  only  Luther,  who,  the  moment 
he  heard  of  Philip's  proceeding,  highly  approved  of  it, 
and  exclaimed :  "  Of  a  truth  all  these  delays  and 
indignities  are  enough  to  fatigue  more  than  one  land- 
grave." 

The  Chancellor  of  Hesse  gave  the  Elector  of  Saxony 
a  letter  that  his  master  had  left  for  him.  Philip  spoke 
iu  this  ostensible  document  of  his  wife's  health ,  but 
he  had  charged  his  ministers  to  inform  the  elector  iu 
private  of  the  real  causes  of  his  departure.  He  an- 
nounced, moreover,  that  he  had  given  orders  to  his 
ministers  to  assist  the  Protestants  in  all  things,  and 
exhorted  his  allies  to  permit  themselves  in  no  manner  to 
be  turned  aside  from  the  Word  of  God.  "As  for  me," 
said  he,  '<  I  shall  fight  for  the  Word  of  God,  at  the 
risk  of  my  goods,  my  states,  my  subjects,  and  my  life." 


REVOLUTION  IN  THE  DIET— METAMORPHOSIS, 


477 


The  effect  of  the  liiudgrave's  departure  was  instan- 
taneous :  a  real  rcvolutiou  was  then  effected  in  the 
diet.  Tlie  Elector  of  Mcntz  and  the  bishops  of  Fran- 
conia,  Pliilip's  near  neighbours,  imagined  tliey  already 
saw  him  on  their  frontiers  at  the  head  of  a  powerfid 
army,  and  replied  to  the  Archbishop  of  Salzburg,  who 
expressed  astonishment  at  their  alarm :  "  Ah !  if  you 
were  in  our  place  you  would  do  the  same."  Ferdinand, 
knowing  the  intimate  relations  of  Philip  with  the  Duke 
of  Wurtemberg,  trembled  for  the  estates  of  this  prince, 
at  that  time  usurped  by  Austria;  and  Charles  the 
Fifth,  undeceived  with  regard  to  those  princes  whom 
he  had  believed  so  timid,  and  whom  he  had  treated 
with  so  much  arrogance,  had  no  doubt  that  this  sudden 
step  of  Philip's  had  been  maturely  deliberated  in  the 
common  council  of  the  Protestants.  All  saw  a  declara- 
tion of  war  in  the  landgrave's  hasty  departure.  They 
called  to  mind  that  at  the  moment  when  they  thought 
the  least  about  it,  they  might  see  him  appear  at  the 
head  of  his  soldiers,  on  the  frontiers  of  his  enemies, 
and  no  one  was  ready;  no  one  even  wished  to  be  ready! 
A  thunderbolt  had  fallen  in  the  midst  of  the  diet.  They 
repeated  the  news  to  one  another  with  troubled  eyes 
and  affrighted  looks.  All  was  confusion  in  Augsburg ; 
and  couriers  bore  afar,  in  every  direction,  astonishment 
and  consternation. 

This  alarm  immediately  converted  the  enemies  of  the 
Reform.  The  violence  of  Charles  and  of  the  princes 
was  broken  in  this  memorable  night  as  if  by  enchant- 
ment ;  and  the  furious  wolves  were  suddenly  trans- 
formed into  meek  and  docile  lambs. 

It  was  still  Sunday  morning :  Charles  the  Fifth  im- 
mediately convoked  the  diet  for  the  afternoon.  "The 
landgrave  has  quitted  Augsburg,"  said  Count  Fredei-ick 
from  the  emperor;  "his  majesty  flatters  himself  that 
even  the  friends  of  that  prince  were  ignorant  of  his 
departure.  It  is  without  the  emperor's  knowledge, 
and  even  in  defiance  of  his  express  prohibition,  that 
Philip  of  Hesse  has  left,  thus  failing  in  all  his  duties. 
He  has  wished  to  put  the  diet  out  of  joint.  But  the 
emperor  conjures  you  not  to  permit  yourselves  to  be 
led  astray  by  him,  and  to  contribute  rather  to  the 
happy  issue  of  this  national  assembly.  His  majesty's 
gratitude  will  thus  be  secured  to  you." 

The  Protestants  replied,  that  the  departure  of  the 
landgrave  had  taken  place  without  their  knowledge ; 
that  they  had  heard  of  it  with  pain,  and  that  they 
would  have  dissuaded  him.  Nevertheless  they  did  not 
doubt  that  tiiis  prince  had  solid  reasons  for  such  a  step ; 
besides,  he  had  left  his  councillors  with  full  powers, 
and  that,  as  for  them,  they  were  ready  to  do  every- 
thing to  conclude  the  diet  in  a  becoming  manner. 
Then,  confident  in  their  rights,  and  decided  to  resist 
Charles's  arbitrary  acts,  they  continued:  "It  is  pre- 
tended that  the  gates  were  closed  on  our  account.  We 
beg  your  majesty  to  revoke  this  order,  and  to  prevent 
any  similar  orders  being  given  in  future." 

Never  was  Charles  the  Fifth  less  at  ease;  he  had 
just  spoken  as  a  father,  and  they  remind  him  that  a 
few  hours  back  he  had  acted  like  a  tyrant.  Some 
subterfuge  was  requisite.  "It  is  not  on  your  account," 
replied  the  count-palatine,  "  that  the  emperor's  soldiers 
occupy  the  gates.     ,     .  Do  not  believe  those  who 

tell  you  so.     .     .     .     Yesterday  there  was  a  quarrel 


between  two  soldiers,  and  a  mob  was  collected.  .  .  . 
This  is  why  tiio  emperor  took  this  step.  Besides,  such 
things  will  not  be  done  again  without  the  Elector  of 
Saxony,  in  his  quality  of  marshal  of  the  empire,  being 
first  informed  of  them."  An  order  was  given  imme- 
diately to  re-open  the  gates. 

No  exertions  were  now  spared  by  the  Roman  party 
to  convince  the  Protestants  of  their  goodwill :  there 
was  an  unaccustomed  mildness  in  the  language  of  the 
count-palatine  and  in  the  looks  of  Charles.  The 
princes  of  the  papal  party,  once  so  terrible,  were 
similarly  transformed.  They  had  been  hastily  forced 
to  speak  out ;  if  they  desired  war,  they  must  begin  it 
instantly. 

But  they  shrunk  back  at  this  frightful  prospect. 
How,  with  the  enthusiasm  that  animated  the  Protes- 
tants, take  up  arms  against  them !  Were  not  the 
abuses  of  the  Church  everywhere  acknowledged,  and 
could  the  Roman  princes  be  sure  of  their  own  subjects? 
Besides,  what  would  be  the  issue  of  a  war  but  the  in- 
crease of  the  emperor's  power  ?  The  Roman  Catholic 
states,  and  the  Duke  of  Bavaria  in  particular,  would 
have  been  glad  to  see  Charles  at  war  with  the  Protes- 
tants, in  the  hope  that  he  would  thus  consume  his 
strength ;  but  it  was,  on  the  contrary,  with  their  own 
soldiers  that  the  emperor  designed  attacking  the  here- 
tics. Henceforth  they  rejected  the  instrumentality  of 
arms  as  eagerly  as  they  had  at  first  desired  it. 

Everything  had  thus  changed  in  Augsburg:  the 
Romish  party  was  paralyzed,  disheartened,  and  even 
broken  up.  The  sword  already  drawn  was  hastily 
thrust  back  in  the  sheath.  Peace !  peace !  was  the  cry 
of  all. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

The  Mixed  Commission— The  Three  Points— Romish  Dissimulation— Abuses 
— Concessions— The  Main  Question — Bishops  and  Pope  Conceded— Dan- 
ger of  Concession— Opposition  to  the  Pretended  Concord— Luther's  Op- 
posing  Letters — The  Word  above  the  Church — Melancthon's  Blindnes:! 
—Papist  Infatuation— A  Xew  Commission— Be  Men,  and  not  Women— 
The  Two  Pliantoms— Concessions — The  Three  Points— The  Great  Anti- 
thesis—Failure of  Conciliation— The  Gordion  Knot — A  Council  Granted 
— Charles's  Summons — Menaces — Altercations — Peace  or  War— Roman- 
ism Concedes— Protestantism  Resists— Luther  Recalls  his  Friends. 

The  diet  now  entered  upon  its  third  phasis,  and  as  the 
time  of  teutatives  had  been  followed  by  that  of  menaces, 
now  that  of  arrangements  was  to  succeed  the  period  of 
threatenings.  New  and  more  formidable  dangers  were 
then  to  bo  encountered  by  the  Reformation.  Rome, 
beholding  the  sword  torn  from  its  grasp,  had  seized 
the  net,  and  enlacing  her  adversaries  with  "cords  of 
humanity  and  bands  of  love,"  was  endeavouring  to 
drag  them  gently  into  the  abyss. 

At  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning  of  the  16th  August, 
a  mixed  commission  was  framed,  which  counted  on 
each  side  two  princes,  two  lawyers,  and  three  theolo- 
gians. In  the  Romish  party,  there  were  Duke  Henry 
of  Brunswick,  the  Bishop  of  Augsburg,  the  chancel- 
lors of  Baden  and  Cologne,  with  Eck,  Cochloius,  and 
Wimpina;  on  the  part  of  the  Protestants,  were  the 


478 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


Margrave  George  of  Brandenburg,  the  Prince  Electoral 
of  Saxony,  the  chancellors  Bnick  and  Heller,  with 
Melancthon,  Brentz,  and  Schnepf. 

They  agreed  to  take  as  a  basis  the  Confession  of 
the  evangelical  states,  and  began  to  read  it  article  by 
article.  The  Romish  theologians  displayed  an  unex- 
pected condescension.  Out  of  twenty-one  dogmatical 
articles,  there  were  only  six  or  seven  to  which  they 
made  any  objection.  Original  Sin  stopped  them  some 
time;  at  length  they  came  to  an  imderstandicg;  the 
Protestants  admitted  that  Baptism  removed  the  guilt 
of  the  sin,  and  the  Papists  agreed  that  it  did  not  wash 
away  concupiscence.  As  for  the  Church,  they  granted 
that  it  contained  sanctified  men  and  sinners ;  they  coin- 
cided also  on  Confession.  The  Protestants  rejected 
especially  as  impossible  the  enumeration  of  all  the  sins 
prescribed  by  Rome.     Dr.  Eck  yielded  this  point. 

There  remained  three  doctrines  only  on  which  they 
differed. 

The  first  was  that  of  Penance.  The  Romish  doctors 
taught  that  it  contained  three  parts  :  contrition,  confes- 
sion, and  satisfaction.  The  Protestants  rejected  the 
latter,  and  the  Romanists,  clearly  perceiving  that  with 
satisfaction  would  fall  indulgences,  purgatory,  and 
other  of  their  doctrines  and  profits,  vigorously  main- 
tained it.  "  We  agree,"  said  they,  "  that  the  penance 
imposed  by  the  priest  does  not  procure  remission  of 
the  guilt  of  sin :  but  we  maintain  that  it  is  necessary 
to  obtain  remission  of  the  penalty." 

The  second  controverted  point  was  the  Invocation  of 
Saints ;  and  the  third,  and  principal  one,  Justification 
by  Faith.  It  was  of  the  greatest  importance  for  the 
Romanists  to  maintain  the  meritorious  influence  of 
works :  all  their  system,  in  reality,  was  based  on  that. 
Eck,  therefore,  haughtily  declared  war  on  the  assertion 
that  faith  alone  justifies.  "That  word  sole,"  said  he, 
"  we  cannot  tolerate.  It  generates  scandals,  and  ren- 
ders men  brutal  and  impious.  Let  us  send  back  the 
sole  to  the  cobbler." 

But  the  Protestants  would  not  listen  to  such  reason- 
ing; and  even  when  they  put  the  question  to  each 
other.  Shall  we  maintain  that  faith  alone  justifies  us 
gratuitously?  "Undoubtedly,  undoubtedly!"  exclaimed 
one  of  them  with  exaggeration,  '■'•gratuitously  and  use- 
lessly." Theyeven  adduced  strange  authorities:  "Plato," 
said  they,  "  declares  that  it  is  not  by  external  works, 
but  by  virtue  that  God  is  to  be  adored ;  and  every  one 
knows  these  verses  of  Cato's : 

Si  Deus  est  animus,  nolria  ut  camiina  diciint, 
nie  tibi  pi-scipue  pura  sit  mente  colendus."! 

"Certaiuly,"  resumed  the  Romish  theologians,  "it 
is  only  of  works  performed  with  grace  that  we  speak ; 
but  we  say  that  in  such  works  there  is  something  meri- 
torious." The  Protestants  declared  they  could  not 
grant  it. 

They  had  approximated,  however,  beyond  all  hope. 
The  Roman  theologians,  clearly  understanding  their 
position,  had  purposed  to  appear  agreed  rather  than  be 
so  in  reality.  Every  one  knew,  for  instance,  that  the 
Protestants  rejected  transubstantiation :  but  the  article 
of  the  Confession  on  this  point,  being  able  to  be  taken 


in  the  Romish  sense,  the  Papists  had  admitted  it. 
Their  triumph  was  only  deferred.  The  general  ex- 
pressions that  were  used  on  the  controverted  points, 
would  permit,  somewhat  later,  a  Romish  interpretation 
to  be  given  to  the  Confession ;  ecclesiastical  authority 
would  declare  this  the  only  true  one;  and  Rome, 
tlianks  to  a  few  moments  of  dissimulation,  woidd 
thus  reascend  the  throne.  Have  we  not  seen  ia  our 
days  the  Thirty-nine  Articles  of  the  Anglican  Church 
interpreted  in  accordance  with  the  Council  of  Trent  ? 
There  are  causes  in  which  falsehood  is  never  awanting. 
This  plot  was  as  skilfully  executed  as  it  was  profoundly 
conceived. 

The  commissioners  were  on  the  best  terms  with  one 
another,  and  concord  seemed  restored.  One  single  un- 
easiness disturbed  that  happy  moment :  the  idea  of  the 
landgrave:  "Ignorant  that  we  are  almost  agreed,"  said 
they,  "this  young  madbrain  is  doubtless  already  assem- 
bling his  army;  we  must  bring  him  back,  and  make 
him  a  witness  of  our  cordial  union."  On  the  morning 
of  the  13th,  one  of  the  members  of  the  commission, 
(Duke  Henry  of  Brunswick,)  accompanied  by  a  coun- 
cillor of  the  emperor,  set  out  to  discharge  this  difficult 
mission.  Duke  George  of  Saxony  supplied  his  place 
as  arbitrator. 

They  now  passed  from  the  first  part  of  the  Confes- 
sion to  the  second :  from  doctrines  to  abuses.  Here 
the  Romish  theologians  could  not  yield  so  easily,  for 
if  they  appeared  to  agree  with  the  Protestants,  it  was 
all  over  with  the  honour  and  power  of  the  hierarchy. 
It  was  accordingly  for  this  period  of  the  combat  that 
they  had  reserved  their  cunning  and  their  strength. 

They  began  by  approaching  the  Protestants  as  near 
as  they  could,  for  the  more  they  granted,  the  more 
they  might  draw  the  Reform  to  them  and  stifle  it. 
"  We  think,"  said  they,  "  that  with  the  permission  of 
his  holiness,  and  the  approbation  of  his  majesty,  we 
shall  be  able  to  permit,  until  the  next  council,  the 
communion  in  both  kinds,  wherever  it  is  practised 
already;  only,  your  ministers  should  preach  at  Easter, 
that  it  is  not  of  Divine  institution,  and  that  Christ  is 
wholly  in  each  kind. 

"Moreover,  as  for  the  married  priests,"  continued 
they,  "  desirous  of  sparing  the  poor  women  whom  they 
have  seduced,  of  providing  for  the  maintenance  of  their 
innocent  children,  and  of  preventing  every  kind  of 
scandiil,  we  will  tolerate  them  until  the  next  council, 
and  we  shall  then  see  if  it  will  not  be  right  to  decree 
that  married  men  may  be  admitted  to  holy  orders,  as 
was  the  case  in  the  primitive  Church  for  many  cen- 
turies. 

"Finally,  we  acknowledge  that  the  sacrifice  of  the 
mass  is  a  mystery,  a  representation,  a  sacrifice  of  com- 
memoration, a  memorial  of  the  sufferings  and  death  of 
Christ,  accomplished  on  the  cross." 

This  was  yielding  much :  but  the  turn  of  the  Pro- 
testants was  come ;  for  if  Rome  appeared  to  give,  it 
was  only  to  take  in  return. 

The  grand  question  was  the  Church,  its  maintenance 
and  government:  who  should  provide  for  it?  They 
could  see  only  two  means :  princes  or  bishops.  If  they 
feared  the  bishops,  they  must  decide  for  the  princes ; 
if  they  feared  the  princes,  they  must  decide  for  the 
bishops.    They  were  at  that  time  too  distant  from  the 


DANGER  OF  CONCESSION. 


normal  state  to  discover  a  third  solution,  and  to  per- 
ceive that  the  Church  oiij;ht  to  be  maintained  by  the 
Church  itself — by  the  Cliristiau  people.  "Secular 
princes,  in  the  long  run,  will  be  defaulters  to  the  govern- 
ment of  the  Church,"  said  the  Saxon  divines,  in  the 
opinion  they  presented  on  the  18th  August ;  "  they  are 
not  fit  to  execute  it,  and,  besides,  it  would  cost  them 
too  dear ;  the  bishops,  on  the  contrary,  have  property 
destined  to  provide  for  this  charge." 

Thus,  the  presumed  incapacity  of  the  state,  and  the 
feai  they  entertained  of  its  indifference,  threw  the 
Protestants  into  the  arms  of  the  hierarchy. 

They  proposed,  therefore,  to  restore  to  the  bishops 
their  jurisdiction,  the  maintenance  of  discipline,  and 
the  superintendence  of  the  priests,  provided  they  did 
not  persecute  the  evangelical  doctrine,  or  oppress  the 
pastoi-s  with  impious  vows  and  burdens.  "We  may 
not,"  added  they,  "  without  strong  reasons,  rend  that 
order  by  which  bishops  are  over  priests,  and  which 
existed  in  the  Church  from  the  beginning.  It  is 
dangerous  before  the  Lord  to  change  the  order  of 
governments."  Their  argument  is  not  founded  upon 
the  Bible,  as  may  be  seen,  but  upon  ecclesiastical 
history. 

The  Protestant  divines  went  even  farther,  and, 
taking  a  last  step  that  seemed  decisive,  they  consented 
to  acknowledge  the  pope  as  being  (but  of  human  right) 
supreme  bishop  of  Christendom  "Although  the  pope 
is  Antichrist,  we  may  be  under  his  government,  as  the 
Jews  were  under  Pharaoh,  and,  in  later  days,  under 
Caiaphas."  We  must  confess  these  two  compari- 
sons were  not  flattering  to  the  pope.  "  Only,"  added 
the  doctors,  "  let  sound  doctrine  be  fully  accorded  to 
us." 

The  chancellor  Bruck  alone  appears  to  have  been 
conscious  of  the  truth  •-  he  wrote  on  the  margin,  with 
a  firm  hand :  "  We  cannot  acknowledge  the  pope,  be- 
cause we  say  he  is  Antichrist,  and  because  he  claims 
the  primacy  by  Divine  right." 

Finally,  the  Protestant  theologians  consented  to 
agi-ee  with  Rome  as  regards  indifferent  ceremonies, 
fasts,  and  forms  of  worsiiip ;  and  the  elector  engaged 
to  put  under  sequestration  the  ecclesiastical  property 
already  secularized,  until  the  decision  of  the  next 
council. 

Never  was  the  conservative  spirit  of  Lutheranism 
more  clearly  manifested.  "  We  have  promised  our 
adversaries  to  concede  to  them  certain  points  of  church 
government,  that  may  be  granted  without  wounding 
the  conscience,"  wrote  Melaucthon.  But  it  began  to 
be  very  doubtful  whether  ecclesiastical  concessions 
would  not  drag  with  them  doctrinal  concessions  also. 
The  Reform  was  drifting  away  .     .     still  a  few 

more  fathoms,  and  it  would  be  lost.  Already  disunion, 
trouble,  and  affright,  were  spreading  among  its  ranks. 
"Melancthon  has  become  more  childish  than  a  child," 
said  one  of  his  friends;  and  yet  he  was  so  excited, 
that  the  Chancellor  of  Luneburg  having  made  some 
objections  to  these  unprecedented  concessions,  the 
little  master  of  arts  proudly  raised  his  head,  and  said, 
with  a  sharp,  hai-sli  tone  of  voice :  "  He  who  dares 
assert  that  the  means  indicated  are  not  Christian  is  a 
liar  and  a  scoundrel."  On  which  the  chancellor  im- 
mediately repaid  him  in  his  own  coin.      These   ex- 


pressions cannot,  however,  detract  from  Melancthon's 
reputation  for  mildness.  After  so  many  useless  efforts, 
he  was  exhausted,  irritated,  and  his  words  cut  the 
deeper,  as  they  were  the  less  expected  from  him.  Ho 
was  not  the  only  one  demoralized.  Brentz  appeared 
clumsy,  rude,  and  uncivil;  Chancellor  Keller  had 
misled  the  pious  Margrave  of  Brandenburg,  and  trans- 
formed the  courage  of  this  prince  into  pusillanimity; 
no  otlior  human  support  remained  to  the  elector  than 
his  chancellor  Bruck.  And  even  this  firm  man  began 
to  grow  alarmed  at  his  isolation. 

But  he  was  not  alone :  the  most  earnest  protests 
were  received  from  without-,  "  If  it  is  true  that  you 
are  making  such  concessions,"  said  their  affrighted 
friends  to  the  Saxon  divines,  "  Christian  liberty  is  at 
an  end.  AVhat  is  your  pretended  concord?  a  thick 
cloud  that  you  raise  in  the  air  to  eclipse  the  sun  that 
was  beginning  to  illumine  the  Chmxh.  Never  will 
the  Christian  people  accept  conditions  so  opposed  to 
the  Word  of  God ;  and  your  only  gain  will  be  fur- 
nishing the  enemies  of  the  Gospel  with  a  specious 
pretext  to  butcher  those  who  remain  faithful  to  it" 
Among  the  laymen  these  convictions  were  general. 
"Better  die  with  Jesus  Christ,"  said  all  Augsburg, 
"  than  gain  the  favour  of  the  whole  world  without 
Him!" 

No  one  felt  so  much  alarm  as  Luther,  when  he  saw 
the  glorious  edifice  that  God  had  raised  by  his  hands 
on  the  point  of  falling  to  ruin  in  those  of  Slelancthon. 
The  day  on  which  this  news  arrived,  he  wrote  five 
letters, — to  the  elector,  to  Melancthon,  to  Spalatin,  to 
Jonas,  and  to  Brentz,  all  equally  filled  with  courage 
and  with  faith. 

"  I  learn,"  said  he,  "  that  you  have  begun  a  marvel- 
lous work,  namely,  to  reconcile  Luther  and  the  pope ; 
but  the  pope  will  not  be  reconciled,  and  Luther  begs  to 
be  excused.  And  if,  in  despite  of  them,  you  succeed 
in  this  affair,  then,  after  your  example,  I  will  bring  to- 
gether Christ  and  Belial. 

"  The  world,  I  know,  is  full  of  wranglers  who  obscure 
the  doctrine  of  justification  by  faith,  and  of  fanatics 
who  pei'secute  it.  Do  not  be  astonished  at  it,  but  con- 
tinue to  defend  it  with  courage,  for  it  is  the  heel  of 
the  seed  of  the  woman  that  shall  bruise  the  head  of  the 
serpent. 

"Beware  also  of  the  jurisdiction  of  the  bishops,  for 
fear  we  should  soon  have  to  recommence  a  more  terrible 
struggle  than  the  first.  They  wiU  take  our  concessions 
widely,  very  widely,  always  more  widely,  and  will  give 
us  theirs  narrowly,  very  narrowly,  and  always  more 
narrowly.  All  these  negotiations  are  impossible,  un- 
less the  pope  should  renounce  his  papacy. 

"A  pretty  motive,  indeed,  our  adversaries  assign! 
They  cannot,  say  they,  restrain  their  subjects,  if  we  do 
not  publish  everywhere  that  they  have  the  truth  on 
their  side :  as  if  God  only  taught  His  Word,  that  our 
enemies  might  at  pleasure  tyrannize  over  their  people. 

"They  cry  out  that  we  condemn  all  the  Church. 
No,  we  do  not  condemn  it ;  but  as  for  tliem,  they  con- 
demn all  the  AVord  of  God,  and  the  Word  of  God  is 
more  than  the  Church." 

This  important  declaration  of  the  reformers  decides 
the  controversy  between  the  evangelical  Christians  and 
the  Papacy;  unfortunately  we  have  often  seen  Protes- 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


tants  return,  on  this  fundamental  point,  to  the  error  of 
Rome,  and  set  the  visible  Chmxh  above  the  Word  of 
God. 

"I  write  to  you  now,"  continues  Luther,  "to  believe 
with  all  of  us,  (and  that  throiigh  obedience  to  Jesus 
Christ,)  that  Campeggio  is  a  famous  demon.  I  cannot 
tell  how  violently  I  am  agitated  by  the  conditions 
which  you  propose.  The  plan  of  Campeggio  and  the 
pope  has  been  to  try  us  first  by  threats,  and  then, 
if  these  do  not  succeed,  by  stratagems;  you  have 
triumphed  over  the  first  attack,  and  sustained  the 
terrible  coming  of  Cresar:  now,  then,  for  the  second. 
Act  with  courage,  and  yield  nothing  to  the  adversaries, 
except  what  can  be  proved  with  evidence  from  the 
very  Word  of  God. 

"  But  if,  which  Christ  forbid !  you  do  not  put  for- 
ward all  the  Gospel ;  if,  on  the  contrary,  you  shut  up 
that  glorious  eagle  in  a  sack  ;  Luther — doubt  it  not! — 
Lutlicr  will  come  and  gloriously  deliver  the  eagle.  As 
certainly  as  Christ  lives,  that  shall  be  done !" 

Thus  spoke  Luther,  but  in  vain  :  everything  in  Augs- 
burg was  tending  towards  approaching  ruin  ;  Melanc- 
thon  had  a  bandage  over  his  eyes  that  nothing  could 
tear  off.  He  no  longer  listened  to  Luther,  aud  cared 
not  for  popularity.  "It  does  not  become  us,"  said 
he,  "  to  be  moved  by  the  clamours  of  the  vulgar :  we 
must  think  of  peace  and  of  posterity.  If  we  repeal 
the  episcopal  jurisdiction,  what  will  be  the  consequence 
to  our  descendants  ?  The  secular  powers  care  nothing 
about  the  interests  of  religion.  Besides,  too  much 
dissimilarity  in  the  churches  is  injurious  to  peace :  we 
must  unite  with  the  bishops,  lest  the  infamy  of  schism 
should  overwhelm  us  for  ever." 

The  evangelicals  too  readily  listened  to  Melancthon, 
and  vigorously  laboured  to  bind  to  the  Papacy,  by  the 
bonds  of  the  hierarchy,  that  Church  which  God  had  so 
wonderfully  emancipated.  Protestantism  rushed  blind- 
fold into  the  nets  of  its  enemies.  Already  serious 
voices  announced  the  return  of  the  Lutherans  into  the 
bosom  of  the  Romish  Church.  "They  are  preparing 
their  defection,  and  are  passing  over  to  the  Papists," 
said  Zwingle.  The  politic  Charles  the  Fifth  acted  in 
such  a  manner,  that  no  haughty  word  should  compro- 
mise the  victory;  but  the  Roman  clergy  could  not 
master  themselves :  their  pride  and  insolence  increased 
every  day.  "  One  would  never  believe,"  said  Melanc- 
thon, "  the  airs  of  triumph  which  the  Papists  give 
themselves."  There  was  good  reason !  the  agi-eement 
was  on  the  verge  of  conclusion  :  yet  one  or  two  steps, 
.     .     .     and  then,  woe  to  the  Reformation ! 

Who  could  prevent  this  desolating  ruin?  It  was 
Luther  who  pronounced  the  name  towards  which  all 
eyes  should  be  turned  :  "  Christ  lives,"  said  he,  "  and 
He  by  whom  the  violence  of  our  enemies  has  been 
conquered  will  give  us  strength  to  surmount  their 
wiles."  This,  which  was  in  truth  the  only  resource, 
did  not  disappoint  the  Reformation. 

If  the  Roman  hierarchy  had  been  willing,  under 
certain  admissible  conditions,  to  receive  the  Protes- 
tants, who  were  ready  to  capitulate,  all  would  have 
been  over  with  them.  When  once  it  held  them  in  its 
arms,  it  would  have  stifled  them ;  but  God  blinded  the 
Papacy,  and  thus  saved  His  Church.  "No  conces- 
sions," had  declared  the  Romish  senate ;  and  Cam- 


peggio, elated  with  his  victory,  repeated,  "No  conces- 
sions!" He  moved  heaven  and  earth  to  inflame  the 
Catholic  zeal  of  Charles  in  this  decisive  moment. 
From  the  emperor  he  passed  to  the  princes.  "  Celi- 
bacy, confession,  the  withdrawal  of  the  cup,  private 
masses !"  exclaimed  he  :  "all  these  are  obligatory:  we 
must  have  all."  This  was  sayiug  to  the  evangelical 
Christians,  as  the  Samnites  to  the  ancient  Romans : 
"  Here  are  the  Caudine  Forks ;  pass  through  them  !" 

The  Protestants  saw  the  yoke,  and  shuddered.  God 
revived  the  courage  of  confessors  in  their  weakened 
hearts.  They  raised  their  heads,  and  rejected  this 
humiliating  capitulation.  The  commission  was  imme- 
diately dissolved. 

This  was  a  great  deliverance,  but  soon  appeared  a 
fresh  danger.  The  evangelical  Christians  ought  im- 
mediately to  have  quitted  Augsburg;  but,  said  one  of 
them,  "  Satan,  disguised  as  an  angel  of  light,  blinded 
the  eyes  of  their  understanding."     They  remained. 

AH  was  not  yet  lost  for  Rome,  and  the  spirit  of 
falsehood  and  of  cunning  might  again  renew  its  attacks. 

It  was  believed  at  court  that  this  disagreeable  termi- 
nation of  the  commission  was  to  be  ascribed  to  some 
wrong-headed  individuals,  and  particularly  to  Duke 
George.  They  therefore  resolved  to  name  another, 
composed  of  six  members  only:  on  the  one  side  Eck, 
with  the  chancellors  of  Cologne  and  Baden ;  on  the 
other,  Melancthon,  with  the  chancellors  Bruck  and 
Heller.  The  Protestants  consented,  and  all  was  begun 
anew. 

The  alarm  then  increased  among  the  most  decided 
followers  of  the  Reformation.  "If  we  expose  our- 
selves unceasingly  to  new  dangers,  must  we  not  suc- 
cumb at  last?"  The  deputies  of  Nuremberg,  in  parti- 
cular, declared  that  their  city  would  never  place  itself 
again  under  the  detested  yoke  of  the  bishops.  "It  is 
the  advice  of  the  undecided  Erasmus  that  Melanc- 
thon follows,"  said  they.  "  Say  rather  of  Ahithophel," 
(2  Sam.  XV.,)  replied  others.  "However  it  maybe," 
added  they;  "if  the  pope  had  bought  Melancthon,  the 
latter  could  have  done  nothing  better  to  secure  the 
victory  for  him." 

The  landgrave  was  especially  indignant  at  this  cow- 
ardice. "  Melancthon,"  wrote  he  to  Zwingle,  "  walks 
backwards  like  a  crab."  From  Friedwald,  whither  he 
had  repaired  after  his  flight  from  Augsburg,  Philip  of 
Hesse  endeavoured  to  check  the  fall  of  Protestantism. 
"  When  we  begin  to  yield,  we  always  yield  more," 
wrote  he  to  his  ministers  at  Augsburg.  "  Declare 
tlierefore  to  my  allies  that  I  reject  these  perfidious 
conciliations.  If  we  are  Christians,  what  we  should 
pursue  is,  not  our  own  advantage,  but  the  consolation 
of  so  many  weary  aud  afflicted  consciences,  for  whom 
there  is  no  salvation  if  we  take  away  tlie  Word  of  God. 
The  bishops  are  not  real  bishops,  for  they  speak  not 
according  to  the  Holy  Scriptures.  If  we  acknowledge 
them,  what  would  follow  ?  They  would  remove  our 
ministers,  silence  the  Gospel,  re-establish  ancient 
abuses,  and  the  last  state  would  be  worse  than  the 
first.  If  the  Papists  will  permit  the  free  preaching  of 
the  pure  Gospel,  let  us  come  to  an  understanding  with 
them ;  for  the  truth  will  be  the  strongest,  and  will  root 
out  all  the  rest.  But  if  not ! — No.  This  is  not  tlie 
moment  to  yield,  but  to  remain  firm  even  unto  death. 


FAILURE  OF  CONCILIATION. 


481 


Baffle  these  fearful  combinations  of  Mclancthon,  and 
tell  the  deputies  of  the  cities,  from  me,  to  be  men,  and 
not  women.     Let  us  fear  nothing :  God  is  with  us." 

Mclancthon  and  his  friends,  thus  attacked,  sought  to 
justify  themselves  :  on  the  one  hand,  they  maintained, 
that  if  they  preserved  the  doctrine  it  would  finally 
overtlirow  the  hierarchy.  But  then,  why  restore  it  ? 
Was  it  not  more  than  doubtful  whether  a  doctrine  so 
enfeebled  would  still  retain  strength  sufHcient  to  shake 
the  Papacy?  On  the  other  hand,  Mclancthon  and  his 
friends  pointed  out  two  phantoms  before  which  they 
shrunk  in  affright.  The  first  was  tvai;  which,  in  their 
opinion,  was  imminent.  "  It  will  not  only,"  said  they, 
"  bring  numberless  temporal  evils  with  it — the  devas- 
tation of  Germany,  murder,  viol.ation,  sacrilege,  rapine; 
but  it  will  produce  spiritual  evils  more  frightful  still, 
and  inevitably  bring  on  the  perturbation  of  all  religion." 
The  second  phantom  was  the  supremacy  of  the  State. 
Mclancthon  and  his  friends  foresaw  the  dependence  to 
which  the  princes  would  reduce  the  Church,  the  in- 
creasing secularization  of  its  institutions  and  of  its 
instruments,  the  spiritual  death  that  would  result,  and 
shrank  back  with  terror  from  the  frightful  i)rospect. 
"  Good  men  do  not  think  that  the  court  should  regu- 
late the  ministry  of  the  Church,"  said  Brcntz.  "  Have 
you  not  yourselves  experienced,"  added  he,  ironically, 
"  with  what  wisdom  and  mildness  these  boors  ('tis  thus 
I  denominate  the  oflicials  and  prefects  of  the  princes) 
treat  the  ministers  of  the  Church,  and  the  Church  it- 
self. Rather  die  seven  times!" — "I  see,"  exclaimed 
Mclancthon,  "what  a  Church  wc  shall  have  if  the 
ecclesiastical  government  is  abolished.  I  discover  in 
the  future  a  tyranny  far  more  intolerable  than  that 
which  has  existed  to  this  day."  Tiien,  bowed  down 
by  the  accusations  that  poured  upon  him  from  every 
side,  the  unhappy  Philip  exclaimed:  "If  it  is  I  who 
Lave  aroused  this  tempest,  I  pray  his  majesty  to  throw 
me,  like  Jonas,  into  the  sea,  and  to  drag  me  out  only 
to  give  me  up  to  torture  and  to  the  stake." 

If  the  Romish  episcopacy  w^erc  once  recognised,  all 
seemed  easy.  In  the  Commission  of  Sis,  they  conceded 
the  cup  to  the  laity,  mairiage  to  the  pastors,  and  the 
article  of  prayer  to  saints  appeared  of  little  importance. 
But  they  stopped  at  tliree  doctrines  which  the  Evan- 
gelicals could  not  yield.  The  first  was  the  necessity  of 
human  satisfaction  for  the  remission  of  the  penalties 
of  sin ;  the  second,  the  idea  of  something  meritorious 
in  every  good  work  ;  the  third,  the  utility  of  private 
masses.  "  Aii !"  ((uickly  replied  Campeggio  to  Charles 
the  Fifth,  "  I  would  rather  be  cut  in  pieces  than  con- 
cede anything  about  masses." 

" What !"  replied  the  politicians,  "when  you  agree 
on  all  the  great  doctrines  of  salvation,  will  you  for 
ever  rend  the  unity  of  the  Chiu-ch  for  three  such  trivi;il 
articles  ?  Let  the  theologians  make  a  last  effort,  and 
we  shall  see  the  two  parties  unite,  and  Rome  embrace 
Wittemberg." 

It  was  not  so:  under  these  three  points  was  con- 
cealed a  whole  system.  On  the  Roman  side,  they 
entertained  the  idea  that  certain  works  gain  the  Divine 
favour,  independently  of  the  disposition  of  him  who 
performs  them,  and  by  virtue  of  the  will  of  the  Church. 
On  the  Evangelical  side,  on  the  contrary,  they  felt  a 
conviction  that  these  external  ordinances  were  mere 


human  traditions,  and  that  the  only  thing  which  ])ro- 
cured  man  the  Divine  favour  was  the  work  that  God 
accomplished  by  Christ  on  the  cross ;  while  the  only 
thing  that  put  him  in  possession  of  this  favour  was  the 
work  of  regeneration  that  Christ  accomplishes  by  His 
Spirit  in  the  heart  of  the  sinner.  The  Romanists,  by 
maintaining  their  three  articles,  said-  "The  Church 
saves,"  which  is  the  essential  doctrine  of  Rome ;  the 
Evangelicals,  by  rejecting  them,  said:  "Jesus  Christ 
alone  saves,"  which  is  Christianity  itself.  This  is  the 
great  antithesis  which  then  existed,  and  which  still 
separates  the  two  churches.  With  these  three  points, 
which  placed  souls  under  her  dependence,  Rome  justly 
expected  to  recover  everything;  and  she  shewed,  by 
her  perseverance,  that  she  understood  her  position. 
But  the  Evangelicals  were  not  disposed  to  aban- 
don theirs.  The  Christian  principle  was  maintained 
against  the  ecclesiastical  principle,  which  aspired  to 
swallow  it  up :  Jesus  Christ  stood  firm  in  the  presence 
of  the  Church,  and  it  was  seen  that  henceforward  all 
conferences  were  superfluous. 

Time  pressed :  for  two  months  and  a-half  Charles 
the  Fifth  had  been  labouring  in  Augsburg,  and  his 
pride  suffered  because  four  or  five  theologians  checked 
the  triumphal  progress  of  the  conqueror  of  Pavia. 
"What!"  said  they  to  him,  "a  few  days  sufficed  to 
overthrow  the  King  of  France  and  the  pope,  and  you 
cannot  succeed  witli  these  Gospellers!"  They  deter- 
mimed  on  breaking  off  the  conferences.  Eck,  irritated 
because  neither  stratagem  nor  terror  had  been  effectual, 
could  not  master  himself  in  the  presence  of  the  Pro- 
testants. "Ah!"  exclaimed  he,  at  the  moment  of 
separation,  "  why  did  not  the  emperor,  when  he  en- 
tered Germany,  make  a  general  inquest  about  the 
Lutherans?  He  would  then  have  heard  arrogant 
answers,  witnessed  monsters  of  heresy,  and  his  zeal, 
suddenly  taking  fire,  would  have  led  him  to  destroy 
all  this  faction.  But  now  Bruck's  mild  language,  and 
Melancthon's  concessions,  prevent  him  from  getting  so 
angry  as  the  cause  requires."  Eck  said  these  words 
with  a  smile ;  but  they  expressed  all  his  thoughts. 
The  colloquy  terminated  on  the  30th  August. 

The  Romisii  states  made  their  report  to  the  emperor. 
They  were  face  to  face,  three  steps  only  from  each 
other,  without  either  side  being  able  to  approach 
ucarer,  even  by  a  liair's-brcadth. 

Thus,  then,  Melancthou  had  failed;  and  his  enor- 
mous concessions  were  found  useless.  From  a  false 
love  of  peace,  he  had  set  his  heart  on  an  impossibility. 
Mclancthon  was,  at  the  bottom,  a  really  Christian 
soul.  God  preserved  him  from  his  great  weakness, 
and  broke  the  clue  that  was  about  to  lead  him  to  de- 
struction. Nothing  could  have  been  more  fortunate 
for  the  Reformation  than  Melancthon's  failure;  but 
nothing  could,  at  the  same  time,  have  been  more  for- 
tunate for  himself.  His  friends  saw  that,  though  he 
was  willing  to  yield  much,  he  could  not  go  so  far  as  to 
yield  Christ  himself,  and  his  defeat  justified  him  in 
the  eyes  of  the  Protestants. 

The  Elector  of  Saxony  and  the  Margrave  of  Bran- 
denburg sent  to  beg  Charles's  leave  to  depart.  The 
latter  refused,  at  first  rather  rudely,  but  at  last  he  begau 
to  conjure  the  princes  not  to  create,  by  their  departure, 
new  obstacles  to  the  arrangements  they  soon  hoped  to 
2 1 


482 


HISTORY  OP  THE  REFORMATION'. 


be  able  to  conclude.  "We  stall  see  what  was  tlie  nature 
of  these  arrangements. 

The  Romanists  appeared  to  redouble  their  exertions. 
If  they  now  let  the  clue  slip,  it  is  lost  for  ever :  they 
laboured,  accordingly,  to  reunite  the  two  ends.  There 
were  conferences  in  the  gardens,  conferences  in  the 
churches,  at  St.  George's,  at  St.  Maurice's,  between 
the  Duke  of  Brunswick  and  John  Frederick  the  elec- 
tor's son,  the  chancellors  of  Baden  and  of  Saxony,  the 
Chancellor  of  Liege  and  Melancthon ;  but  all  these 
attempts  were  unavailing.  It  was  to  other  means  they 
were  going  to  have  recourse. 

Charles  the  Fifth  had  resolved  to  take  the  affair  in 
hand,  and  to  cut  the  Gordian  knot,  which  neither 
doctors  nor  princes  could  untie.  Irritated  at  seeing 
his  advances  spurned  and  his  authority  compromised, 
he  thought  that  the  moment  was  come  for  drawing  the 
sword.  On  the  4th  September,  the  members  of  the 
Eomau  party,  who  were  still  endeavouring  to  gain  over 
the  Protestants,  wliispered  these  frightful  intentions  in 
Melaucthon's  ears.  "We  scarcely  dare  mention  it," 
said  they:  "the  sword  is  already  in  the  emperor's 
hands,  and  certain  people  exasperate  hun  more  and 
more.  He  is  not  easily  enraged,  but  once  angry,  it  is 
impossible  to  quiet  him." 

Charles  had  reason  to  appear  exacting  and  ten'ible. 
He  had  at  length  obtained  from  Rome  an  unexpected 
concession — a  council.  Clement  VII.  had  laid  the 
emperor's  request  before  a  congi-egation :  "How  will 
men  who  reject  the  ancient  councils  submit  to  a  new 
one?"  they  had  replied.  Clement  himself  had  no  wish 
for  an  assembly,  which  he  dreaded  alike  on  account  of 
his  birth  and  conduct.  However,  his  promises  at  the 
Castle  of  St.  Angelo  and  at  Bologna  rendered  it  im- 
possible for  him  to  give  a  decided  refusal.  He  an- 
swered, therefore,  that  "the  remedy  would  be  worse 
than  the  disease  ;  but  that  if  the  emperor,  who  was  so 
good  a  Catholic,  judged  a  council  absolutely  necessary, 
he  would  consent  to  it,  under  the  express  condition, 
however,  that  the  Protestants  should  submit,  in  the 
meanwhile,  to  the  doctrines  and  rites  of  the  Church." 
Then,  as  the  place  of  meeting,  he  appointed  Rome ! 

Scarcely  had  news  of  this  concession  spread  abroad, 
than  the  fear  of  a  Reformation  froze  the  papal  court. 
The  public  charges  of  the  Papacy,  which  were  alto- 
gether venal,  immediately  fell,  says  a  cardinal,  and 
were  offered  at  the  lowest  price,  without  even  being 
able  to  find  purchasers.  The  Papacy  was  com- 
promised ;  its  merchandise  was  endangered ;  and  the 
price  current  immediately  declined  on  the  Roman  ex- 
change ! 

On  "Wednesday,  7th  September,  at  two  in  the  after- 
noon, the  Protestant  princes  and  deputies  having  been 
introduced  into  the  chamber  of  Charles  the  Fifth,  the 
count-palatine  said  to  them,  "that  the  emperor,  con- 
sidering their  small  number,  had  not  expected  they 
would  uphold  new  sects  against  the  ancient  usages  of 
the  universal  Chiu-ch ;  that,  nevertheless,  being  desir- 
ous of  appearing  to  the  last  full  of  kindness,  he  would 
require  of  his  holiness  the  convocation  of  a  council ; 
but  that,  in  the  meanwhile,  they  should  retm-n  im- 
mediately into  the  bosom  of  the  Catholic  Church,  and 
restore  everything  to  its  ancient  footing." 

The  Protestants  replied  on  the  morrow,  the  8th  Sep- 


tember, "that  they  had  not  stirred  up  new  sects  contrary 
to  the  Holy  Scriptures ;  that,  quite  the  reverse,  if  they 
had  not  agreed  with  their  adversaries,  it  was  because 
tliey  had  desii-ed  to  remain  faithful  to  the  Word  of 
God ;  that,  by  convoking  in  Germany  a  general,  free, 
■and  Christian  council,  it  would  only  be  doing  what 
preceding  diets  had  promised  ;  but  that  nothing  should 
compel  them  to  re-establish  in  their  churches  an  order 
of  things  opposed  to  the  commandments  of  God." 

It  was  eight  in  the  evening  when,  after  a  long  de- 
liberation, the  Protestants  were  again  called  in.  "  His 
majesty,"  said  George  Truchses  to  them,  "  is  equally 
astonished,  both  that  the  Catholic  members  of  the 
commissions  have  accorded  so  much,  and  that  the 
Protestant  members  have  refused  everything.  WTiat 
is  your  party  in  the  presence  of  his  imperial  majesty, 
of  his  papal  holiness,  of  the  electors,  princes,  estates  of 
the  empire,  and  other  kings,  rulers,  and  potentates  of 
Christendom  ?  It  is  but  just  that  the  minority  should 
yield  to  the  majority.  Do  you  desire  the  means  of 
conciliation  to  be  protracted,  or  do  you  persist  in  your 
answer?  Speak  frankly;  for  if  you  persist,  the  em- 
peror will  immediately  see  to  the  defence  of  the 
Church.  To-morrow,  at  one  o'clock,  you  will  bring 
your  final  decision." 

Never  had  such  threatening  words  issued  from 
Charles's  mouth.  It  was  evident  he  wished  to  subdue 
the  Protestants  by  terror;  but  this  end  was  not  at- 
tained. They  replied  the  next  day  but  one — a  day 
more  having  been  accorded  them — that  new  attempts 
at  conciliation  would  only  fatigue  the  emperor  and  the 
diet ;  that  they  only  requu'ed  regulations  to  maintain 
political  peace  until  the  assembling  of  the  council. 
" Enough,"  replied  the  redoubtable  emperor;  "I  will 
reflect  upon  it ;  but,  in  the  meantime,  let  no  one  quit 
Augsburg." 

Charles  the  Fifth  was  embarrassed  in  a  labyrinth 
from  which  he  knew  not  how  to  escape.  The  State 
had  resolved  to  interfere  with  the  Church,  and  saw  it- 
self compelled  to  have  immediate  recourse  to  its  ultima 
ratio — the  sword.  Charles  did  not  desire  war,  and  yet 
how  could  he  now  avoid  it  ?  If  he  did  not  execute  his 
threats,  his  dignity  was  compromised,  and  his  authority 
rendered  contemptible.  He  sought  an  outlet  on  one 
side  or  the  other,  but  could  tind  none.  It  therefore 
only  remained  for  him  to  close  his  eyes,  and  rush  for- 
ward, heedless  of  the  consequences.  These  thoughts 
disturbed  him :  these  cares  preyed  upon  him :  he  was 
utterly  confounded. 

It  was  now  that  the  elector  sent  to  beg  Charles  would 
not  be  offended  if  he  left  Augsburg.  "  Let  him  await 
my  answer,"  abruptly  replied  the  emperor :  and  the 
elector  having  rejoined  that  he  would  send  his  minis- 
ters to  explain  his  motives  to  his  majesty:  "not  so 
many  speeches,"  resumed  Charles,  with  irritation : 
"let  the  elector  say  whether  he  will  stay  or  not !" 

A  rumour  of  the  altercation  between  those  two 
powerful  princes  having  spread  abroad,  the  alarm  be- 
came universal ;  it  was  thought  war  would  break  out 
immediately,  and  there  was  a  great  disturbance  in 
Augsburg.  It  was  evening :  men  were  running  to  and 
fro  ;  they  rushed  into  the  hotels  of  the  princes,  and  of 
the  Protestant  deputies,  and  addressed  them  with  the 
severest  reproaches.      "His   imperial  majesty,"   said 


ALTERCATIONS -LUTHER'S  APPEAL. 


they,  "  is  about  to  have  recourse  to  the  most  energetic 
mesisiircs!"  They  even  declared  that  hostilities  had 
begun :  it  was  whispered  that  the  commander  of  Hor- 
neck,  (Walter  of  Kronberg,)  elected  by  the  emperor 
grand-master  of  the  Teutonic  order,  was  about  to  enter 
Prussia  with  an  army,  and  dispossess  Duke  Albert, 
converted  by  Luther.  Two  nights  successively  the 
same  tumult  was  repeated.  They  shouted,  they  quar- 
relled, they  fought,  particularly  in  and  before  the  man- 
sions of  the  princes :  the  war  was  nearly  commencing 
in  Augsburg. 

At  that  crisis  (12th  September)  John  Frederick, 
prince-electoral  of  Saxony,  quitted  the  city. 

On  the  same  day,  or  on  the  morrow,  Jerome  TVehe, 
chancellor  of  Baden,  and  Count  Truchses,  on  the  one 
side;  Chancellor  Bruck  and  Melancthon,  on  the  other, 
met  at  six  in  the  morning  in  the  church  of  St.  Maurice. 

Charles,  notwithstanding  his  threats,  could  not  decide 
on  emploj-ing  force.  He  might,  no  doubt,  by  a  single 
word  to  his  Spanish  bands  or  to  his  German  lansquenets, 
have  seized  on  these  inflexible  men,  and  treated  them 
like  Moors.  But  how  could  Charles,  a  Netherlander, 
a  Spaniard,  who  had  been  ton  years  absent  from  the 
empire,  dare,  without  raising  all  Germany,  offer  vio- 
lence to  the  favourites  of  the  nation  ?  Would  not  the 
Roman  Catholic  princes  themselves  see  in  this  act  an 
infringement  of  their  privileges  ?  War  was  imseason- 
able.  "  Lutheranism  is  extending  already  from  the 
Baltic  to  the  Alps,"  wrote  Erasmus  to  the  legate : 
"  You  have  but  one  thing  to  do  :  tolerate  it." 

The  negotiation  begun  in  the  church  of  St.  Maurice 
was  continued  between  the  Margrave  of  Brandenburg 
and  Count  Truchses.  The  Roman  party  only  sought 
to  save  appearances,  and  did  not  hesitate,  besides,  to 
sacrifice  everything.  It  asked  merely  for  a  few  theat- 
rical decorations — that  the  mass  should  be  celebrated 
in  the  sacerdotal  garment,  with  chanting,  reading, 
ceremonies,  and  its  two  canons.  All  the  rest  was 
referred  to  the  next  council ;  and  the  Protestants,  till 
then,  should  conduct  themselves  so  as  to  render  accoimt 
to  God,  to  the  coiuicil,  and  to  his  majesty. 

But  on  the  side  of  the  Protestants  the  wind  had  also 
changed.  Now  they  no  longer  desired  peace  with 
Rome :  the  scales  had  at  last  fallen  from  their  eyes, 
and  they  discovered  with  affright  the  abyss  into  which 
they  had  so  nearly  plunged.  Jonas,  Spalatin,  and  even 
Melancthon,  were  agreed.  "We  have  hitherto  obeyed 
the  commandment  of  St.  Paul,  Be  at  peace  with  all 
»»e«,"  said  they ;  "now  we  must  obey  this  command- 
ment of  Christ,  Beware  ye  of  the  leaven  of  the  Pharisees, 
ichich  is  hijpocrisij.  On  the  side  of  our  adversaries  is 
nothing  but  cunning  and  perfidy,  and  their  only  aim 
is  to  stifle  our  doctrine,  which  is  truth  itself.  They 
hope  to  save  the  abominable  articles  of  purgatory,  in- 
dulgences, and  the  Papacy,  because  we  have  passed 
them  by  in  silence.  Let  us  beware  of  betraying  Christ 
and  His  Word,  in  order  to  please  Antichrist  and  the 
devil." 

Luther,  at  the  same  time,  redoubled  his  entreaties 
to  withdraw  his  friends  from  Augsburg.  "Return, 
return,"  cried  he  to  them  ;  " return,  e\en  if  it  must  be 
so,  cursed  by  the  pope  and  the  emperor.  You  have 
confessed  Jesus  Christ,  offered  peace,  obeyed  Charles, 
supported  insiUts,   and   endured  blasphemies.     I  will 


canonize  you,  I,  as  faithful  members  of  Jesus  Christ. 
You  have  done  enough,  and  more  than  enough :  now 
it  is  for  the  Lord  to  act,  and  He  will  act !  They  have 
our  Confession,  they  have  the  Gospel ;  let  them  receive 

it,  if  they  will ;  and  if  they  will  not,  let  them  go . 

If  a  war  should  come,  let  it  come !  We  have  prayed 
enough ;  we  have  discussed  enough.  The  Lord  is  pre- 
paring our  adversaries  as  the  victim  for  the  sacrifice  ; 
He  will  destroy  their  magnificence,  and  deliver  His 
people.  Yes !  He  will  preserve  us  even  from  Babylon, 
and  from  her  burning  walls." 


CHAPTER  XU. 

The  Elector's  Preparatives  aiid  Indignation— Recess  of  Angsborg— Irritat' 
ing  Language — Apology  of  the  Confession— Intimidation — Final  Inter- 
\iew— Jlessagcs  of  Peace— Exasperation  of  the  Papists— Restoration  oi 
Poperj'- Tumult  in  the  Church— Union  of  the  Churches— The  Pope  and 
the  Emperor— Close  of  the  Diet — Armaments — Attack  on  Geneva — Joy 
of  tlie  Evangelicals- Establishment  of  Protestantism. 

Tous  Luther  gave  the  signal  of  departure.  They 
replied  to  the  reformer's  appeal,  and  all  prepared  to 
quit  Augsburg  on  Saturday,  17th  September.  At  ten 
at  night,  Duke  Ernest  of  Luneburg  assembled  the 
deputies  of  Nuremberg  and  the  ministers  of  the  land- 
grave in  his  hotel,  and  announced  to  them  that  the 
elector  was  determined  to  leave  the  next  morning, 
without  informing  any  one,  and  that  he  would  accom- 
pany him.  "  Keep  the  secret,"  said  he  to  them,  "  and 
know  that  if  peace  cannot  be  preserved,  it  will  be  a 
trifling  matter  for  me  to  lose,  combating  with  you,  all 
that  God  has  given  me." 

The  elector's  preparations  betrayed  his  intentions. 
In  the  middle  of  the  night  Duke  Henry  of  Brunswick 
arrived  hastily  at  his  hotel,  beseeching  him  to  wait ; 
and  towards  morning  counts  Truchses  and  Mansfeld 
announced  that,  on  the  morrow,  between  seven  and 
eight,  the  emperor  would  give  him  his  conge'. 

On  Monday,  19th  September,  the  elector,  purposing- 
to  leave  Augsburg  immediately  after  his  audience  with 
Charles,  breakfasted  at  seven  o'clock,  then  sent  off  his 
baggage  and  his  cooks,  and  ordered  his  oflicers  to  be 
ready  at  ten  o'clock.  At  the  moment  when  John 
quitted  the  hotel  to  wait  upon  the  emperor,  aU  the 
members  of  his  household  were  drawn  up  on  each  side, 
booted  and  spurred ;  but  having  been  introduced  to 
Charles,  he  was  requested  to  wait  two,  four,  or  six, 
days  longer. 

As  soon  as  the  elector  was  alone  with  his  allies,  his 
indignation  burst  forth,  and  he  even  became  violent. 
"This  new  delay  will  end  in  nothing,"  he  said;  "I  am 
resolved  to  set  out,  happen  what  may.  It  seems  to 
me,  from  the  manner  in  which  things  are  arranged, 
that  I  have  now  completely  the  air  of  a  prisoner." 
The  Margrave  of  Brandenburg  begged  him  to  be  calm. 
"I  shall  go,"  the  elector  still  replied.  At  last  He 
yielded,  and  having  appeared  again  before  Charles  the 
Fifth,  he  said :  "  I  will  wait  until  Friday  next ;  and,  if 
nothing  is  done  by  that  time,  I  shall  leave  forthwith." 

Great  was  the  anxiety  of   the  Protestants  during 


484 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


these  four  days  of  expectation.  Most  of  them  doubted 
not  that,  by  acceding  to  Charles's  prayers,  they  had 
delivered  themselves  into  the  hands  of  their  enemies. 
"The  emperor  is  deliberating  whether  he  ought  to 
hang  us  or  let  us  live,"  wrote  Brentz.  Fresh  negotia- 
tions of  Truchses  were  without  success. 

All  that  now  remained  for  the  emperor  was  to  draw 
up,  in  common  with  the  Romish  states,  the  recess  of 
the  diet.  This  was  done ;  and  that  the  Protestants 
might  not  complain  of  its  having  been  prepared  without 
their  knowledge,  he  assembled  them  in  his  palace  on 
Thursday,  22d  September,  the  day  previous  to  that 
fixed  for  the  elector's  departure,  and  had  his  project 
read  to  them  by  the  count-palatine.  This  project  was 
insult  and  war.  The  emperor  granted  to  the  elector, 
the  five  princes,  and  the  six  cities,'  a  delay  of  six 
months,  until  the  15th  April  next  year,  to  come  to  an 
arrangement  with  the  Church,  the  pope,  the  emperor, 
and  all  the  princes  and  monarchs  of  Christendom. 
This  was  clearly  announcing  to  them  that  the  Romanists 
were  very  willing  to  delay  untU  the  usual  period  for 
bringing  armies  into  the  field. 

Nor  was  this  all :  the  delay  was  granted  only  on  the 
express  condition  that  the  Protestants  should  imme- 
diately join  the  emperor  in  reducing  the  Anabap- 
tists, and  all  those  who  opposed  the  holy  sacrament, 
by  which  were  meant  the  Zwinglian  cities.  He  wished 
by  this  means  to  tie  the  hands  of  the  Protestants,  and 
prevent  the  two  families  of  the  Reformation  from 
uniting  during  the  wiutei'. 

Finally,  the  Protestants  were  forbidden  to  make  any 
innovations,  to  print  or  sell  anything  on  the  objects  of 
faith,  or  to  draw  any  one  whatever  to  their  sect,  "since 
the  Confession  had  been  soundly  refuted  by  the  Holy 
Scriptures."  Thus  the  Reformation  was  officially  pro- 
claimed a  sect,  and  a  sect  contrary  to  the  Word  of  God. 

Nothing  was  more  calculated  to  displease  the  friends 
of  the  Gospel,  who  remained  in  Charles's  presence, 
astonished,  alarmed,  and  indignant.  This  had  been 
foreseen ;  and,  at  the  moment  when  the  Protestants 
were  about  to  enter  the  emperor's  chamber,  Truchses 
and  Wehe,  making  signs  to  them,  mysteriously  slipped 
a  paper  into  their  hands,  containing  a  promise  that  if, 
on  the  15th  April,  the  Protestants  required  a  prolon- 
gation of  the  delay,  their  request  would  certainly  be 
granted.  But  Bruck,  to  whom  the  paper  was  given, 
was  not  deceived.  "  A  subtle  ambuscade,"  said  he ; 
"a  masterpiece  of  knavery!  God  will  save  His  own, 
and  will  not  permit  them  to  fall  into  the  snare."  This 
trick,  in  fact,  served  only  still  more  to  increase  the 
courage  of  the  Protestants. 

Bruck,  without  discussing  the  recess  in  a  political 
point  of  view,  confined  himself  to  what  was  principally 
at  stake,  the  Word  of  God.  "  We  maintain,"  said  he, 
"  that  our  Confession  is  so  based  on  the  holy  Word  of 
God,  that  it  is  impossible  to  refute  it.  We  consider  it 
as  the  very  truth  of  God,  and  we  hope  by  it  to  stand 
one  day  before  the  judgment  seat  of  the  Lord."  Ho 
theu  announced  that  the  Protestants  had  refuted  the 
Refutation  of  the  Romish  theologians,  and  holding  in 
his  hand  the  famous  Apology  of  the  Confession  of 
Augsburg,  written  by  Melancthon,  he  stepped  for- 
1  Nuremberg  and  Reutliugen,  to  which  were  added  the  cities  of  Kempten, 
Heilbronn,  'Windsheim,  and  Weissemburg. 


ward,  and  offered  it  to  Charles  the  Fifth.  The  count- 
palatine  took  it,  and  the  emperor  was  already  stretch- 
ing out  his  hand,  when  Ferdinand  having  whispered  a 
few  words,  he  beckoned  to  the  count,  who  immediately 
returned  the  Apology  to  Dr.  Bruck.  This  paper,  and 
the  "  Commonplaces,"  are  the  reformer's  masterpieces. 
The  embarrassed  emperor  told  the  Protestants  to  come 
again  at  eight  the  next  morning. 

Charles  the  Fifth,  resolving  to  employ  every  means 
to  get  his  decree  accepted,  began  by  entreaties;  and 
scarcely  was  the  Margrave  of  Brandenburg  seated  to 
take  his  evening  repast,  when  Truchses  and  Wehe 
appeared  before  him,  using  every  kind  of  discourse 
and  argument,  but  without  success. 

The  next  day  (Friday,  23d  September)  the  evan- 
gelical princes  and  the  deputies  of  the  cities  assembled 
at  five  in  the  morning  at  the  margrave's  hotel,  where 
the  recess  was  again  read  in  the  presence  of  Truchses 
and  Wehe,  Chancellor  Bruck  assigning  seven  reasons 
for  its  rejection.  "  I  undertake,"  said  Wehe,  "  to 
translate  the  recess  into  German  in  such  a  manner  that 
you  can  accept  it.  As  for  the  word  sect,  in  particular, 
it  is  the  clerk  who  placed  it  there  by  mistake."  The 
mediators  retired  in  haste  to  communicate  to  Charles 
the  complaints  of  the  Protestants. 

Charles  aiid  his  ministers  gave  up  every  idea  of 
reconciliation,  and  hoped  for  nothing  except  through 
fear.  The  Protestants  having  reached  the  imperial 
palace  at  eight  o'clock,  they  were  made  wait  an  hour ; 
the  Elector  of  Brandenburg  then  said  to  them  in 
Charles's  name:  "His  majesty  is  astonished  beyond 
measure  that  you  still  maintain  your  doctrine  to  bo 
based  on  the  Holy  Scriptures.  If  you  say  the  truth, 
his  majesty's  ancestors,  so  many  kings  aud  emperors, 
and  even  the  ancestors  of  the  Elector  of  Saxony,  were 
heretics !  There  is  no  Gospel,  there  is  no  Scripture, 
that  imposes  on  us  the  obligation  of  seizing  by  violence 
the  goods  of  another,  and  of  then  saying  that  we  can- 
not conscientiously  restore  them.  It  is  for  this  reason, 
added  Joachim,  after  these  words,  which  he  accom- 
panied with  a  sardonic  smile,  "I  am  commissioned  to 
inform  you,  that  if  you  refuse  the  recess,  all  the  Ger- 
manic states  will  place  their  lives  and  their  property  at 
the  emperor's  disposal,  and  his  majesty  himself  will 
employ  the  resources  of  all  his  kingdoms  to  complete 
this  affair  before  leaving  the  empire." 

"  We  do  not  accept  it,"  replied  the  Protestants  firmly. 
— "His  majesty  also  has  a  conscience,"  then  resumed  the 
Elector  of  Brandenburg,  in  a  harsh  tone ;  "  aud  if  you 
do  not  submit,  he  will  concert  with  the  pope  and  the 
other  potentates  on  the  best  means  of  extirpating  this 
sect  and  its  new  errors."  But  in  vain  did  they  add 
threat  to  threat :  the  Protestants  remained  calm,  re- 
spectful, and  unshaken.  "Our  enemies,  destitute  of 
all  confidence  in  God,"  said  they,  "  would  shake  like  a 
reed  in  presence  of  the  emperor's  anger,  and  they 
imagine  that  we  should  tremble  in  like  manner ;  but 
we  have  called  unto  God,  and  He  will  keep  us  faithful 
to  His  truth." 

The  Protestants  then  prepared  to  take  their  final 
leave  of  the  emperor.  This  prince,  whose  patience 
had  been  put  to  a  severe  trial,  approached  to  shake 
hands  according  to  custom ;  and  beginning  with  the 
Elector  of  Saxony,  he  said  to  him  in  a  low  voice: 


RESTORATION  OF  POPERY. 


485 


"  Uncle,  uncle !  I  should  never  have  expected  this  of 
you."  The  elector  was  deeply  affected  :  his  eyes  filled 
with  tears;  but,  firm  and  resolute,  he  bent  his  head  and 
quitted  Charles  without  reply.  It  was  now  two  in  the 
afternoon. 

"While  the  Protestants  were  returning  to  their  hotels, 
calm  and  happy,  the  Eomish  princes  retired  to  theirs, 
confused  and  dispirited,  uneasy  and  divided.  They 
doubted  not  that  the  conge  which  had  just  been  granted 
to  the  Protestants  would  be  regarded  by  them  as  a 
declaration  of  war,  and  that  on  quitting  Augsburg, 
they  would  rush  to  arms.  This  thought  terrified  them. 
Accordingly,  the  Elector  of  Saxony  had  hardly  reached 
his  palace,  when  he  saw  Dr.  Ruhel,  councillor  of  the 
Elector  of  Mentz,  hastening  towards  him,  commissioned 
by  his  master  to  deliver  this  message :  "  Although  my 
brother  the  elector  (Joachim  of  Brandenburg)  has 
declared  that  the  states  of  the  empire  are  ready  to 
support  the  emperor  against  you,  know  that  both  my- 
self, and  the  ministers  of  the  elector-palatine,  and  of 
the  Elector  of  Treves,  immediately  declared  to  his 
majesty  that  we  did  not  adhere  to  this  declaration, 
seeing  that  we  thought  very  favourably  of  you.  I 
intended  saying  this  to  the  emperor  in  your  presence, 
but  you  left  so  precipitately  that  I  was  unable." 

Thus  spoke  the  primate  of  the  German  Church,  and 
even  the  choice  of  his  messenger  was  significant :  Dr. 
Ruhel  was  Luther's  brother-in-law.  John  begged  him 
to  thank  his  master. 

As  tliis  envoy  retired,  there  arrived  one  of  the  gentle- 
men of  Duke  Henry  of  Brunswick,  a  zealous  Romanist. 
He  was  at  first  refused  admittance  on  account  of  the 
departure,  but  returned  hastily,  just  as  Brack's  carriage 
was  leaving  the  court-yard  of  the  hotel.  Approaching 
the  carriage-door,  he  said:  "The  duke  informs  the 
elector  that  he  will  endeavour  to  put  things  in  a  better 
train,  and  will  come  this  winter  to  kill  a  wild  boar 
with  him."  Shortly  after,  the  terrible  Ferdinand  him- 
self declared  that  he  would  seek  every  means  of  pre- 
venting an  outbreak.  All  these  manifestations  of  the 
affrighted  Roman  Catholics  shewed  on  which  side  was 
the  real  strength. 

At  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  the  Elector  of 
Saxony,  accompanied  by  the  dukes  of  Luneburg  and 
the  princes  of  Anhalt,  quitted  the  walls  of  Augsburg. 
"  God  be  praised,"  said  Luther,  "  that  our  dear  prince 
is  at  last  out  of  hell !" 

As  he  saw  these  intrepid  princes  thus  escaping  from 
his  hands,  Charles  the  Fifth  gave  way  to  a  violence 
that  was  not  usual  with  him.  "  They  want  to  teach 
me  a  new  faith,"  cried  he;  "but  it  is  not  with  the 
doctrine  that  we  shaU  finish  this  matter :  we  must  draw 
the  sword,  and  then  shall  we  see  who  is  the  strongest." 
All  around  him  gave  way  to  their  indignation.  They 
were  astonished  at  the  audacity  of  Bruck,  who  had 
dared  call  the  Romanists — heretics!  But  nothing 
irritated  them  so  much  as  the  spirit  of  proselytism 
which  in  those  glorious  days  characterized  evangelical 
Germany;  and  the  anger  of  tlie  Papists  was  particularly 
directed  against  the  Chancellor  of  Luneburg,  "  who," 
said  they,  "  had  sent  more  than  a  hundred  ministers 
into  different  places  to  preach  the  new  doctrine,  and 
who  had  even  publicly  boasted  of  it." — "  Our  adver- 
saries thirst  for  our  blood,"  wrote,  as  they  heard  these 


complaints,  the  deputies  of  Nuremberg,  who  remained 
almost  alone  at  Augsburg. 

On  the  4th  October,  Charles  the  Fifth  wrote  to  the 
pope ;  for  it  was  from  Rome  that  the  new  crusade  was 
to  set  out:  "The  negotiations  are  broken  off;  our 
adversaries  are  more  obstinate  than  ever ;  and  I  am 
resolved  to  employ  my  strength  and  my  person  in  com- 
bating them.  For  this  reason  I  beg  your  holiness  will 
demand  the  support  of  all  Christian  princes." 

The  enterprise  began  in  Augsburg  itself.  The  day 
on  which  he  wrote  to  the  pope,  Charles,  in  honour  of 
St.  Francis  of  Assisi,  whose  feast  it  was,  re-established 
the  Cordeliers  in  that  city,  and  a  monk  ascending  the 
pulpit  said  :  "All  those  who  preach  that  Jesus  Christ 
alone  has  made  satisfaction  for  our  sins,  and  that  God 
saves  us  without  regard  to  our  works,  are  thorough 
scoundrels.  There  are,  on  the  contrary,  two  roads  to 
salvation :  the  common  road — namely,  the  observance 
of  the  commandments ;  and  the  perfect  road — namely, 
the  ecclesiastical  state."  Scarcely  was  the  sermon 
finished  ere  the  congregation  began  to  remove  the 
benches  placed  in  the  church  for  the  evangelical 
preaching,  breaking  them  violently,  (for  they  were 
fixed  with  chains,)  and  throwing  them  one  upon  an- 
other. Within  these  consecrated  walls  two  monks,  in 
particular,  armed  with  hammers  and  pincers,  tossed 
their  arms,  and  shouted  liked  men  possessed.  "  From 
their  frightful  uproar,"  exclaimed  some,  "one  would 
imagine  they  were  pulling  down  a  house."  It  was  in 
truth  the  house  of  God  they  wished  to  begin  destroying. 

After  the  tumult  was  appeased,  they  sang  mass. 
As  soon  as  this  was  concluded,  a  Spaniard  desired  to 
recommence  breaking  the  benches,  and  on  being  pre- 
vented by  one  of  the  citizens,  they  began  to  hurl  chairs 
at  each  other ;  one  of  the  monks,  leaving  the  choir,  ran 
up  to  them  and  was  soon  dragged  into  the  fray;  at 
length  the  captain  of  police  arrived  with  his  men,  who 
distributed  their  well  directed  blows  on  every  side. 
Thus  began  in  Germany  the  restoration  of  Roman 
Catholicism  :  popular  violence  has  often  been  one  of  its 
most  powerful  allies. 

On  the  13th  October  the  recess  was  read  to  all  the 
Romish  states,  and  on  the  same  day  they  concluded  a 
Roman  league. 

Two  cities  had  signed  the  Confession,  and  two  others 
had  assented  to  it;  the  imperialists  hoped,  however, 
that  these  powerless  municipalities,  affrighted  at  the 
imperial  authority,  would  withdraw  from  the  Protest- 
ant union.  But  on  the  17th  October,  instead  of  two 
or  four  cities,  sLxteen  imperial  towns,  among  which 
were  the  most  important  in  Germany,  declared  it  was 
impossible  to  grant  any  support  against  the  Turks  so 
long  as  public  peace  was  not  secured  in  Germany  it- 
self. 

An  event  more  formidable  to  Charles  had  just  taken 
place.  The  unity  of  the  Reformation  had  prevailed. 
"We  are  one  in  the  fundamental  articles  of  faith,"  had 
said  theZwinglian  cities,  "and  in  particular,  (notwith- 
standing some  disputes  about  words  among  our  theo- 
logians,) we  are  one  in  the  doctrine  of  the  communion 
in  the  body  and  blood  of  our  Lord.  Receive  us."  The 
Saxon  deputies  immediately  gave  their  hands.  Nothing 
unites  the  childi-en  of  God  so  much  as  the  violence 
of  their  adversaries.     "Let  us  unite,"  said  all,  "for 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


the  consolation  of  our  brethren  and  the  terror  of  our 
enemies." 

In  vain  did  Charles,  who  was  intent  on  keeping  up 
division  among  the  Protestants,  convoke  the  deputies 
of  the  Zwinglian  cities;  in  vain,  desiring  to  render 
them  odious,  had  he  accused  them  of  fastening  a  con- 
secrated wafer  to  a  wall  and  firing  bullets  at  it ;  in 
vain  did  he  overwhelm  them  with  fierce  threats ; — all 
his  efforts  were  useless.  At  length  the  evangelical 
party  was  one. 

Tlie  alarm  increased  among  the  Roman  party,  who 
resolved  on  fresh  concessions.  "  The  Protestants  call 
for  public  peace,"  said  they;  "well,  then,  let  us  di-aw 
up  articles  of  peace."  But,  on  the  29th  October,  the 
Protestants  refused  these  offers,  because  the  emperor 
enjoined  peace  to  all  tlie  world,  without  binding  him- 
self. "  An  emperor  has  the  right  to  command  peace 
to  his  subjects,"  haughtily  answered  Charles;  "but  it 
has  never  been  heard  that  he  commanded  it  to  him- 
self." 

Nothing  remained  but  to  draw  the  sword ;  and  for 
that  Charles  made  every  preparation.  On  the  25th 
October,  he  wrote  to  the  cardinals  at  Rome :  "  We  in- 
form you  that  we  shall  spare  neither  kingdoms  nor 
lordships;  and  that  we  shall  venture  even  our  soul 
and  our  body  to  complete  such  necessary  matters." 

Scarcely  had  Charles's  letter  been  received,  before 
his  major-domo,  Pedro  de  la  Cueva,  arrived  in  Rome 
by  express.  "  The  season  is  now  too  far  advanced  to 
attack  the  Lutherans  immediately,"  said  he  to  the 
pope ;  "  but  prepare  everything  for  this  enterprise. 
His  majesty  thinks  it  his  duty  to  prefer,  before  all 
things,  the  accomplishment  of  your  designs."  Thus 
Clement  and  the  emperor  were  also  united,  and  both 
sides  began  to  concentrate  their  forces. 

On  the  evening  of  the  11th  November,  the  recess 
was  read  to  the  Protestant  deputies,  and  on  the  12th 
they  rejected  it,  declaring  that  they  did  not  acknow- 
ledge the  emperor's  power  to  command  in  matters  of 
faith.  The  deputies  of  Hesse  and  of  Saxony  departed 
immediately  after,  and  on  the  19th  November  the 
recess  was  solemnly  read  in  the  presence  of  Charles 
the  Fifth,  and  of  the  princes  and  deputies  who  were 
still  in  Augsburg.  This  report  was  more  hostile  than 
the  project  communicated  to  the  Protestants.  It  bore, 
among  other  things,  (and  this  is  only  a  sample  of  tlie 
urbanity  of  this  otficial  doctrine,)  that  "  to  deny  free 
will  was  the  error  not  of  man,  but  of  a  brute." — "We 
beg  his  majesty,"  said  the  Elector  Joachim,  after  it 
was  read,  "  not  to  leave  Germany,  until,  by  his  cares, 
one  sole  and  same  faith  be  re-established  in  all  the 
empire." 

The  emperor  replied  that  he  would  not  go  farther 
than  his  states  of  the  Low  Countries.  They  desired  that 
deeds  should  follow  close  upon  words.  It  was  then 
nearly  seven  in  the  evening ;  a  few  torches,  lighted  up 
here  and  there  by  the  ushers,  and  casting  a  pale  light, 
alone  illuminated  this  assembly:  they  separated  with- 
out seeing  each  other :  and  thus  ended,  as  it  were  by 
stealth,  that  diet  so  pompously  announced  to  the  Chris- 
tian world. 

On  the  22d  November,  the  recess  was  made  public ; 
and  two  days  after,  Charles  the  Fifth  set  out  for 
Cologne.     The  ruler  of  two  worlds  had  seen  all  his 


influence  baffled  by  a  few  Christians ;  and  he  who  had 
entered  the  imperial  city  in  triumph,  now  quitted  it 
gloomy,  silent,  and  dispirited.  The  mightiest  power 
of  the  earth  was  broken  against  the  power  of  God. 

But  the  emperor's  ministers  and  officers,  excited  by 
the  pope,  displayed  so  much  the  more  energy.  The 
states  of  the  empire  were  bound  to  f ui-uish  Charles,  for 
three  years,  40,000  foot,  8,000  horse,  and  a  consider- 
able sum  of  money;  the  Margrave  Henry  of  Zenete, 
the  Count  of  Nassau,  and  other  nobles,  made  consider- 
able levies  on  the  side  of  the  Rhine ;  a  captain  going 
through  the  Black  Forest  called  its  rude  inhabitants 
to  his  standard,  and  there  enrolled  six  companies  of 
lansquenets ;  King  Ferdinand  had  written  to  all  the 
knights  of  the  Tyrol  and  of  Wurtemberg  to  gird  on 
their  cuirasses  and  take  down  their  swords ;  Joachim 
of  Tallieim  collected  the  Spanish  bands  in  the  Low 
Countries,  and  ordered  them  towards  the  Rhine ;  Peter 
Scher  solicited  from  the  Duke  of  Lorraine  the  aid  of 
his  arms  ;  and  another  chief  hastily  moved  the  Spanish 
array  of  Florence  in  the  direction  of  the  Alps.  There 
was  every  reason  to  fear  that  the  Germans,  even  the 
Roman  Catholics,  would  take  Luther's  part ;  and  hence 
principally  foreign  troops  were  levied.  Nothing  but 
war  was  talked  of  in  Augsburg. 

On  a  sudden  a  strange  rumour  was  heard.  The 
signal  is  given,  said  every  one.  A  free  city,  lying  on 
the  confines  of  the  Germanic  and  Roman  world, — a 
city  at  war  with  its  bishop,  in  alliance  with  the  Pro- 
testants, and  which  passed  for  reformed  even  before 
really  being  so,  had  been  suddenly  attacked.  A  courier 
from  Strasburg  brought  this  news  to  Augsburg,  and  it 
circulated  through  the  town  with  the  rapidity  of  light- 
ning. Three  days  after  Michaelmas,  some  armed  men, 
sent  by  the  Duke  of  Savoy,  pillaged  the  suburbs  of 
Geneva,  and  threatened  to  take  possession  of  the  city, 
and  put  all  to  the  edge  of  the  sword.  Every  one  in 
Augsburg  was  amazed.  "Ho!"  exclaimed  Charles 
the  Fifth,  in  French,  "  the  Duke  of  Savoy  has  begun 
too  soon."  It  was  reported  that  Magaret,  governor  of 
the  Low  Countries,  the  pope,  the  dukes  of  Lorraine 
and  Gueldres,  and  even  the  King  of  France,  were 
directing  their  troops  against  Geneva.  It  was  there 
that  the  army  of  Rome  intended  fixing  its  point  d'appuL 
The  avalanche  was  gathering  on  the  first  slopes  of  the 
Alps,  whence  it  would  rush  over  all  Switzerland,  and 
then  roll  into  Germany,  burying  the  Gospel  and  the 
Reformation  under  its  huge  mass. 

This  sacred  cause  appeared  to  be  in  great  danger, 
and  never  in  reality  had  it  gained  so  noble  a  triumph. 
The  coup  de  main  attempted  on  those  hills,  where,  six 
years  later,  Calvin  was  to  take  his  station,  and  plant 
the  standard  of  Augsburg  and  of  Nazareth,  having 
failed,  all  fears  were  dispelled,  and  the  victory  of  the 
confessors  of  Christ,  for  an  instant  obscured,  shone 
forth  anew  in  all  its  splendour. 

While  the  emperor  Charles,  surrounded  by  a  numer- 
ous train  of  princes,  was  approaching  the  banks  of  the 
Rhine  sad  and  dispirited,  the  Evangelical  Christians 
were  returning  in  triumph  to  their  homes.  Luther  was 
the  herald  of  the  victory  gained  at  Augsburg  by  faith. 
"Though  our  enemies  should  have  around  them,  beside 
them,  with  them,  not  only  that  puissant  Roman  em- 
peror, Chai'les,  but  still  more  the  emperor  of  the  Turks 


ESTABLISHMENT  OF  PROTESTANTISM. 


487 


and  his  Mohammed,"  said  he,  "they  could  uot  iutiraidate, 
they  couUl  not  frighten  me.  It  is  I  who,  in  tiio  strength 
of  God,  am  resolved  to  frighten  and  overthrow  them. 
They  shall  yield  to  me,  they  shall  fall,  and  I  shall  re- 
main upright  and  lirm.  My  life  shall  be  their  heads- 
man, and  my  death  their  hell !  .  .  .  God  blinds 
them  and  hardens  their  hearts ;  He  is  driving  them 
towards  the  Red  Sea :  all  the  horses  of  Pharaoh,  his 
chariots  and  his  horsemen,  cainiot  escape  their  inevit- 
able destiny.  Let  them  go  then,  let  them  perish,  since 
they  will  it  so !     As  for  us,  the  Lord  is  with  us." 

Thus  the  Diet  of  Augsburg,  destined  to  crush  the 
Eeformation,  was  what  strengthened  it  for  ever.  It 
has  been  usual  to  consider  the  peace  of  Augsburg 
(1555)  as  the  period  when  the  Ileform  was  definitively 
established.  That  is  the  date  of  Icgid  Protestantism ; 
Evangelical  Christianity  has  another — the  autumn  of 


1530.  In  1555  was  the  victory  of  the  sword  and  of 
diplomacy;  in  1530  was  that  of  the  Word  of  God  and 
of  faith;  and  this  latter  victory  is,  in  our  eyes,  the 
truest  and  the  surest.  The  evangelical  history  of  the 
Reformation  in  Germany  is  nearly  finished  at  the  epoch 
we  have  reached,  and  the  diplomatic  history  of  legal 
Protestantism  begins.  Whatever  may  now  be  done, 
whatever  may  be  said,  the  Church  of  the  first  ages  has 
reappeared ;  and  it  has  reappeared  strong  enough  to 
shew  that  it  will  live.  There  will  still  be  conferences 
and  discussions;  there  will  still  be  leagues  and  combats; 
there  will  even  be  deplorable  defeats  ;  but  all  these  ai-e 
a  secondary  movement.  The  great  movement  is  ac- 
complished :  the  cause  of  faith  is  won  by  faith.  The 
effort  has  been  made :  the  evangelical  doctrine  has 
taken  root  in  the  world,  and  neither  the  storms  of  men 
nor  the  powers  of  hell  will  ever  be  able  to  tear  it  up. 


HISTORY  OP  THE  EEFORMATION. 


BOOK     XV. 


SWITZERLAND— CONQUESTS.— 1526-1530, 


CHAPTER  I. 

Origiuality  of  the  Swiss  Reform— Change— Three  Periods  of  Hoform— 
Switzerland  Eoniande— The  Two  Movements  in  the  Church— Aggres- 
sive Spirit — The  Schoolmaster— Farel's  New  Baptism — Mysticism  and 
Scholasticism — A  Door  is  Opened— Opposition — Lausanne — Manners  of 
the  Clergy— Farel  to  Galeotto— Farel  and  the  Monk— The  Tribunal— 
The  Monk  Cries  for  Paidon— Opposition  of  the  Ormonds— A  False  Con- 
vert—Christian Dnity. 

The  divisions  wliich  the  Eeformation  disclosed  within 
its  bosom,  ou  its  appearance  before  the  Diet  of  Augs- 
burg, humbled  it  and  compromised  its  existence ;  but 
■we  must  not  forget  that  the  cause  of  these  divisions 
was  one  of  the  conditions  of  the  existence  of  the  re- 
generated Church.  No  doubt  it  would  have  been  desir- 
able for  Germany  and  Switzerland  to  have  agreed ; 
but  it  was  of  still  greater  importance  that  Germany 
and  Switzerland  should  have  each  its  original  Eeform. 
If  the  Swiss  Eeformation  had  been  only  a  feeble  copy 
of  the  German,  there  would  have  been  uniformity,  but 
no  duration.  The  tree,  transplanted  into  Switzerland, 
without  having  taken  deep  root,  would  soon  have  been 
torn  up  by  the  vigorous  hand  that  was  erelong  about 
to  seize  upon  it.  The  regeneration  of  Christianity  in 
these  mountains  proceeded  from  forces  peculiar  to  the 
Helvetic  Church,  and  received  an  organization  in  con- 
formity with  the  ecclesiastical  and  political  condition 
of  that  country.  By  this  very  originality  it  communi- 
cated a  particular  energy  to  the  principles  of  the  Ee- 
formation, of  much  greater  consequence  to  the  common 
cause  than  a  servile  uniformity.  The  strength  of  an 
army  arises  in  great  measure  from  its  being  composed 
of  soldiers  of  different  arms. 

The  military  and  political  influence  of  Switzerland 
was  declining.  The  new  developments  of  the  Euro- 
pean nations,  subsequent  to  the  sixteenth  century,  were 
about  to  banish  to  their  native  mountains  those  proud 
Helvetians,  who  for  so  long  a  period  had  placed  their 
two-handed  swords  in  the  balance  in  which  the  desti- 
nies of  nations  were  weighed.  The  Eeformation  com- 
municated a  new  influence  in  exchange  for  that  which 
was  departing.  Switzerland,  where  the  Gospel  ap- 
peared in  its  simplest  and  purest  form,  was  destined 
to  give  in  these  new  times  to  many  nations  of  the  two 
worlds  a  more  salutary  and  glorious  impulse  than  that 
which  had  hitherto  proceeded  from  its  halberds  and  its 
arquebuses. 

The  history  of  the  Swiss  Eeformation  is  divided  into 
three  periods,  in  which  the  light  of  the  Gospel  is 
seen  spreading  successively  over  three  different  zones. 
From  1519  to  1526  Zmich  was  the  centre  of  the 
Eeformation,  which  was  then  entirely  German,  and 
was  propagated  in  the  eastern  and  northern  parts  of 


the  Confederation.  Between  1526  and  1532  the  move- 
ment was  communicated  from  Berne :  it  w.as  at  once 
German  and  French,  and  extended  to  the  centre  of 
Switzerland,  from  the  gorges  of  the  Jura  to  the  deepest 
valleys  of  the  Alps.  In  1532  Geneva  became  the 
focus  of  the  light;  and  the  Eeformation,  which  was 
here  essentially  French,  was  established  on  the  shores 
of  the  Lemau  Lake,  and  gained  strength  in  every 
quarter.  It  is  of  the  second  of  these  periods — that  of 
Berne — of  which  we  are  now  to  treat. 

Although  the  Swiss  Eeformation  is  not  yet  essen- 
tially French,  still  the  most  active  part  in  it  is  taken 
by  Frenchmen.  Switzerland  Romande '  is  yoked  to  the 
chariot  of  Eeform,  and  communicates  to  it  an  accele- 
rated motion.  In  the  period  we  are  about  to  treat  of 
there  is  a  mixture  of  races,  of  forces,  and  of  characters, 
from  which  proceeds  a  greater  commotion.  In  no  part 
of  the  Christian  world  will  the  resistance  be  so  stub- 
born ;  but  nowhere  will  the  assailants  display  so  much 
courage.  This  petty  country  of  Switzerland  Eomaude, 
enclosed  within  the  colossal  arms  of  the  Jura  and  the 
Alps,  was  for  centuries  one  of  the  strongest  fortresses 
of  the  Papacy.  It  is  about  to  be  carried  by  storm ;  it 
is  going  to  turn  its  arms  against  its  ancient  masters ; 
and  from  these  few  hillocks,  scattered  at  the  foot  of 
the  highest  mountains  in  Europe,  will  proceed  the 
reiterated  shocks  that  will  overthrow,  even  in  the  most 
distant  countries,  the  sanctuaries  of  Rome,  their  images, 
and  their  alt^irs. 

There  are  two  movements  in  the  Church,  one  is 
effected  inwardly,  and  its  object  is  its  preservation ; 
the  other  is  effected  outwardly,  and  the  object  aimed 
at  is  its  propagation.  There  is  thus  a  doctrinal  Church 
and  a  missionary  Church.  These  two  movements 
ought  never  to  be  separated,  and  whenever  they  are 
disunited,  it  is  because  the  spirit  of  man,  and  not  the 
Spirit  of  God,  prevails.  In  the  apostolic  ages  these 
two  tendencies  were  evolved  at  the  same  time,  and  with 
equal  power.  In  the  second  and  third  centuries  the 
external  tendency  prevailed ;  after  the  Council  of  Nice 
(325)  the  doctrinal  movement  resumed  the  superiority; 
at  the  epoch  of  the  irruption  of  the  northern  tribes  the 
missionary  spirit  revived ;  but  erelong  came  the  times 
of  the  hierarchy  and  of  the  schoolmen,  in  which  all 
doctrinal  powers  warred  within  the  Church  to  found 
therein  a  despotic  government  and  an  impure  doctrine 
— the  Papacy.  The  revival  of  Christianity  in  the 
sixteenth  century,  which  emanated  from  God,  was 
destined  to  renovate  these  two  movements,  but  by 
purifying  them.  Then,  indeed,  the  Spirit  of  God 
acted  at  once  externally  and  internally.  In  the  days 
of  the  Eeformation  there  were  tranquil  and  internal 

1  Tlie  French  part  of  Switzerland,  comprising  the  cantons  of  Geneva, 
Vaud,  Neufchatel,  and  part  of  those  of  Fiiburg,  Berne,  and  Valais. 


AOORESSIVE  SPIRIT-THE  SCHOOLMASTER. 


dtvelopmcnts ;  but  there  was  also  a  more  powerful  and 
aggressive  action.  Men  of  God  had  for  ages  studied 
the  Word,  and  had  peacefully  explained  its  salutary 
lessons.  Such  had  been  the  work  of  Vesalia,  Goch, 
Groot,  Radewiu,  Ruybrook,  Tauler,  Thomas  a  Kempis, 
and  John  Wessel ;  now,  something  more  was  required. 
The  power  of  action  was  to  be  combined  with  the 
power  of  thought.  The  Papacy  had  been  allowed  all 
necessary  time  for  laying  aside  its  errors;  for  ages  men 
had  been  in  expectation ;  it  had  been  warned,  it  had 
been  entreated;  all  had  been  unavailing.  Popery 
being  unwilling  to  reform  itself,  it  became  necessary 
for  men  of  God  to  take  its  accomplishment  upon  them- 
selves. The  calm  and  moderate  influence  of  the  pre- 
cursors of  the  Reform  was  succeeded  by  the  heroic  and 
lioly  revolutionary  work  of  the  Reformers;  and  the 
revolution  they  effected  consisted  in  overthrowing  the 
usurping  power  to  re-establish  the  legitimate  authority. 
"  To  everything  there  is  a  season,"  says  the  Preacher, 
"  and  a  time  to  every  purpose  under  heaven  :  a  time  to 
plant,  and  a  time  to  pluck  up  that  which  is  planted ;  a 
time  to  break  down,  and  a  time  to  build  up,"  (Eccles. 
iii.  1-3.)  Of  all  Reformers,  those  who  carried  the 
aggi-essive  spirit  to  its  highest  degree  were  the  men 
who  came  from  France,  and  more  especially  Farel, 
whose  labours  we  have  now  to  consider. 

Never  were  such  mighty  effects  accomplished  by  so 
puny  a  force.  In  the  government  of  God  we  pass  in 
an  instant  from  the  greatest  to  the  least  of  things.  "We 
now  quit  the  haughty  Charles  V.  and  all  that  court 
of  princes  over  which  he  presides,  to  follow  the  steps 
of  a  schoolmaster ;  and  leave  the  palaces  of  Augsburg 
to  take  our  seats  in  the  lowly  cottages  of  Switzer- 
land. 

The  Rhone,  after  issuing,  near  St.  Gothard,  from 
the  mountains  of  the  Furka,  from  beneath  an  immense 
sea  of  eternal  ice,  rolh  its  noisy  waters  through  a 
rugged  valley  scparatinir  tlie  tv^n  srreat  chains  of  the 
Alps;   tli(  n  "i-MiMiL'-  ti    Ml   til.    _   I  _.' of  St.  Maurice,  it 


wanders  through  a  more  smiling  and  fertile  country. 
The  sublime  Dent  du  Midi  on  the  south,  the  proud 
Dent  de  Morcles  on  the  north,  picturesquely  situated 
opposite  each  other,  point  out  from  afar  to  the  travel- 
ler's eye  the  beginning  of  this  latter  basin.  On  the 
tops  of  these  mountains  are  vast  glaciers  and  threat- 
ening peaks,  near  which  the  shepherds,  in  the  midst 
of  summer,  lead  their  numerous  flocks  to  pasture;  while, 


in  the  plain,  the  flowers  and  fruits  of  southern  climes 
grow  luxuriantly,  and  the  laurel  blooms  beside  the 
most  exquisite  grapes. 

At  the  opening  of  one  of  the  lateral  valleys  that  lead 
into  the  northern  Alps,  on  the  banks  of  the  Grande 
Eau,  that  falls  in  thunder  from  the  glaciers  of  the 
Diablerets,  is  situated  the  small  town  of  Aigle,  one  of 
the  most  southern  in  Switzerland.  For  about  fifty 
years  it  had  belonged  to  Berne,  with  the  four  parishes 
(marukmens)  which  are  under  its  jurisdiction,  namely, 
Aigle,  Bex,  Ollon,  and  the  chalets  scattered  in  the 
lofty  valleys  of  the  Ormonds.  It  is  in  this  country 
that  the  second  epoch  of  the  Swiss  Reformation  was 
destined  to  begin. 

In  the  winter  of  1526-1527,  a  foreign  schoolmaster, 
named  Ui'sinus,  arrived  in  this  humble  district.  He 
was  a  man  of  middle  stature,  with  red  beard  and  quick 
eyes,  and  who,  with  a  voice  of  thunder  (says  Beza) 
combined  the  feelings  of  a  hero :  his  modest  lessons 
were  intermingled  with  new  and  strange  doctrines. 
The  benefices  being  abandoned  by  their  titularies  to 
ignorant  curates,  the  people,  who  were  naturally  of 
rude  and  turbulent  habits,  had  remained  without  any 
cultivation.  Thus  did  this  stranger,  who  was  no  other 
than  Farel,  meet  with  new  obstacles  at  every  step. 

Whilst  Lefevre  and  most  of  his  friends  had  quitted 
Strasburg  to  re-enter  France,  after  the  deliverance  of 
Francis  I.,  Farel  had  turned  his  steps  towards  Swit- 
zerland ;  and  on  the  very  first  day  of  his  journey, 
he  received  a  lesson  that  he  frequently  recalled  to 
mind. 

He  was  on  foot,  accompained  by  a  single  friend. 
Night  had  closed  around  them,  the  rain  fell  in  torrents, 
and  the  travellers,  in  despair  of  finding  their  road,  had 
sat  down  midway,  drenched  with  rain.  "Ah!"  said 
Farel,  "  God,  by  shewing  me  my  helplessness  in  these 
little  things,  has  willed  to  teach  me  how  weak  I  am  in 
the  greatest  without  Jesus  Christ ! "  At  last  Farel, 
springing  up,  plunged  into  the  marshes,  waded  through 
the  waters,  crossed  vineyards,  fields,  hiUs,  forests,  and 
valleys,  and  at  length  reached  his  destination,  covered 
with  mud  and  soaked  to  the  skin. 

In  this  night  of  desolation  Farel  had  received  a  new 
baptism.  His  natural  energy  had  been  quelled :  he 
became  for  some  time,  at  least,  wise  as  a  serpent  and 
harmless  as  a  dove ;  and,  as  not  unfrequently  happens 
to  men  of  such  disposition,  he  at  first  overstepped  his 
aim.  Believing  that  he  was  following  the  example  of 
the  apostles,  he  sought,  in  the  words  of  Oicolampadius, 
'•  by  pious  frauds  to  circumvent  the  old  serpent  that 
was  hissing  around  him."  He  represented  himself  to 
be  a  schoolmaster,  and  waited  until  a  door  should  be 
opened  to  him  to  appear  as  a  reformer. 

Scarcely  had  Magister  Ursinus  quitted  the  school- 
room and  his  primers,  than,  taking  refuge  in  his 
modest  chamber,  he  became  absorbed  in  the  Greek 
and  Hebrew  Scriptures,  and  the  most  learned  treatises 
of  the  theologians.  The  struggle  between  Luther  and 
Zwiugle  was  commencing.  To  which  of  these  two 
chiefs  should  the  French  Reform  attach  itself '?  Luther 
had  been  known  in  France  for  a  much  longer  time 
than  Zwingle;  yet  Farel  decided  in  favom-  of  the 
latter.  Mysticism  had  characterized  the  Germanic 
nations  during  the  Middle  Ages,   and  scholasticism 


HISTORY  OF  THE  EEFORMATION. 


those  of  Koman  descent.  The  French  -were  ia  closer 
relation  with  the  dialectician  Zwingle,  than  with  the 
mystic  Luther;  or  rather,  they  were  the  mediators 
between  the  two  great  tendencies  of  the  Middle  Ages ; 
and,  while  giving  to  the  Christian  thought  that  correct 
form  which  seems  to  be  the  province  of  southern 
nations,  they  became  the  instruments  of  God  to  spread 
through  the  Church  the  fulness  of  life  and  of  the 
Spirit  of  Christ. 

It  was  in  his  little  chamber  at  Aigle  that  Farel  read 
the  first  publication  addressed  to  the  Germans  by  the 
Swiss  reformer.  "With  what  learning,"  cries  he, 
"  does  Zwingle  scatter  the  darkness !  with  what  holy 
ingenuity  he  gains  over  the  wise!  and  what  captivating 
meekness  he  unites  with  deep  erudition  !  Oh !  that  by 
the  grace  of  God  this  work  may  win  over  Luther,  so 
that  the  Church  of  Christ,  trembling  from  such  violent 
shocks,  may  at  length  find  peace !" 

The  schoolmaster  Ursiuus,  excited  by  so  noble  an 
example,  gradually  set  about  instructing  the  parents  as 
well  as  the  children.  He  at  first  attacked  the  doctrine 
of  Purgatory,  and  next  the  Invocation  of  Saints.  "As 
for  the  pope,  he  is  nothing,"  said  he,  "  or  almost  no- 
thing, in  these  parts ;  and  as  for  the  priests,  provided 
they  annoy  the  people  with  all  that  nonsense,  which 
Erasmus  knows  so  well  how  to  tiu-n  into  ridicule,  that 
is  enough  for  them." 

Ursinus  had  been  some  months  at  Aigle :  a  door  was 
opened  to  him ;  a  flock  had  been  collected  there,  and 
he  believed  the  looked-for  moment  had  arrived. 

Accordingly,  one  day  the  prudent  schoolmaster  dis- 
appears. "I  am  William  Farel,"  said  he,  "minister 
of  the  Word  of  God."  The  terror  of  the  priests  and 
magistrates  was  great,  when  they  saw  in  the  midst  of 
them  that  very  man  whose  name  had  already  become 
so  formidable.  The  schoolmaster  quitted  his  humble 
study;  he  ascended  the  pulpit,  and  openly  preached 
Jesus  Chi-ist  to  the  astonished  multitude.  The  work 
of  Ursinus  was  over .  Farel  was  himself  again.'  It  was 
then  about  the  month  of  March  or  April,  1527,  and  in 
that  beautiful  valley,  whose  slopes  were  brightening  in 
the  warm  rays  of  the  sun,  all  was  fermenting  at  the 
same  time — the  flowers,  the  vineyards,  and  the  hearts 
of  this  sensible  but  rude  people. 

Yet  the  rocks  that  the  torrent  meets  as  it  issues  from 
the  Diablerets,  and  against  which  it  dashes  at  every 
step  as  it  falls  from  eternal  snows,  are  more  trifling 
obstacles  than  the  prejudice  and  hatred  that  were 
shewn  erelong  in  this  populous  valley  to  the  Word  of 
God. 

The  Council  of  Berne,  by  a  license  of  the  9th  of 
March,  had  commissioned  Farel  to  explain  the  Holy 
Scriptures  to  the  people  of  Aigle  and  its  neighbour- 
hood. But  the  arm  of  the  civil  magistrate,  by  thus 
mingling  in  religious  affairs,  served  only  to  increase  the 
irritation  of  men's  minds.  The  rich  and  lazy  incum- 
bents, the  poor  and  ignorant  ciu-ates,  were  the  first  to 
cry  out.  "  If  tliis  man,"  said  they  one  to  another, 
"continues  preaching,  it  is  all  over  with  our  benefices 
and  our  Church." 

In  the  midst  of  this  agitation,  the  bailiff  of  Aigle 
and  the  governor  of  the  four  mandemens,  Jacques  de 


Koverea,  instead  of  supporting  the  minister  of  their 
excellencies  of  Berne,  eagerly  embraced  the  cause  of 
the  priests.  "The  emperor,"  said  they,  "is  about  to 
declare  war  against  all  innovators.  A  great  army  will 
shortly  arrive  from  Spain  to  assist  the  Archduke  Fer- 
dinand." Farel  stood  firm.  Upon  this,  the  bailiff  and 
Roverea,  exasperated  by  such  boldness,  interdicted  the 
heretic  from  every  kind  of  instruction,  whether  as 
minister  or  schoolmaster.  But  Berne  caused  to  be 
posted  on  the  doors  of  all  the  churches  in  the  four 
mandemens  a  new  decree,  dated  the  3d  of  July,  in 
which  their  excellencies,  manifesting  great  displeasure 
at  this  interdiction  "of  the  very  learned  Farel  from 
the  propagation  of  the  Divine  Word,  ordered  all  the 
otticers  of  the  state  to  allow  him  to  preach  publicly 
the  doctrines  of  the  Lord." 

This  new  proclamation  was  the  signal  of  revolt. 
On  the  25th  July,  great  crowds  assembled  at  Aigle,  at 
Bex,  at  OUou,  and  in  the  Ormonds,  crying  out :  "  No 
more  submission  to  Berne  !  down  with  Farel !"  From 
words  they  soon  proceeded  to  actions.  At  Aigle  the 
insurgents,  headed  by  the  fiery  syndic,  tore  down  the 
edict,  and  prepared  to  fall  upon  the  reformed.  These, 
promptly  united  and  surrounding  Farel,  resolved  to 
defend  liirn.  The  two  parties  met  face  to  face,  and 
blood  was  near  flowing.  The  firm  countenance  of  the 
friends  of  the  Gospel  checked  the  partisans  of  the 
priests,  who  dispersed,  and  Farel,  quitting  Aigle  for  a 
few  days,  carried  his  views  farther. 

In  the  middle  of  the  beautiful  valley  of  the  Leman, 
on  hills  which  overlook  the  lake,  stands  Lausanne,  the 
city  of  the  bishop  and  of  the  Virgin,  placed  under  the 
patronage  of  the  dukes  of  Savoy.  A  host  of  pilgrims, 
assembling  from  all  the  surrounding  places,  knelt  de- 
voutly before  the  image  of  Our  Lady,  and  made  costly 
purchases  at  the  great  fair  of  indulgences  that  was 
held  in  its  precincts.  Lausanne,  extending  its  episcopal 
crozier  from  its  lofty  towers,  pretended  to  keep  the 
whole  country  at  the  feet  of  the  pope.  But  owing 
to  the  dissolute  life  of  the  canons  and  priests,  the  eyes 
of  many  began  to  be  opened.  The  ministers  of  the 
Virgin  were  seen  in  public  playing  at  games  of  chance, 
which  they  seasoned  with  mockery  and  blasphemy. 
They  fought  in  the  churches;  disguised  as  soldiers, 
they  descended  by  night  from  the  cathedral  hill,  and 
roaming  through  the  streets,  sword  in  hand  and  in 
liquor,  surprised,  wounded,  and  sometimes  even  killed 
the  worthy  citizens ;  they  debauched  married  women, 
seduced  young  girls,  changed  theii-  residences  into 
houses  of  ill-fame,  and  heartlessly  turned  out  their 
young  children  to  beg  their  bread.  Nowhere,  perhaps, 
was  better  exempUfled  the  description  of  the  clergy 
given  us  by  one  of  the  most  venerable  prelates  at  the 
beginning  of  the  sixteenth  century:  "Instead  of  train- 
ing up  youth  by  their  learning  and  holiness  of  life,  the 
priests  train  birds  and  dogs ;  instead  of  books,  they 
have  children ;  they  sit  with  topers  in  the  taverns,  and 
give  way  to  drunkenness." 

Among  the  theologians  in  the  court  of  the  Bishop 
Sebastian  of  Montfaucon,  was  Natalis  Galeotto,  a  man 
of  elevated  rank  and  great  urbanity,  fond  of  the  society 
of  scholars,  and  himself  a  man  of  learning,  but  never- 
theless very  zealous  about  fasts  and  all  the  ordinances 
of  the  Church.     Farel  thought  that,  if  this  man  could 


FAREL  AND  THE  ISIONK. 


be  gained  over  to  the  Gospel,  Lausanne,  "  slumbering 
at  the  foot  of  its  steeples,"  would  perhaps  awaken,  and 
all  the  country  with  it.  lie  therefore  addressed  him- 
self to  him.  "Alas!  alas!"  said  Farel,  "religion  is 
now  little  better  than  an  empty  inockery,  since  people 
who  think  only  of  their  appetites  are  the  kings  of  the 
Church.  Christian  people,  instead  of  celebrating  in 
the  sacrament  the  death  of  the  Lord,  live  as  if  they 
commemorated  Mercury,  the  god  of  fraud.  Instead  of 
imitating  the  love  of  Christ,  they  enuilate  the  lewd- 
uess  of  Venus ;  and,  when  they  do  evil,  they  fear  more 
the  presence  of  a  wretched  swineherd  than  of  God 
Almighty." 

But  Galeotto  made  no  reply,  and  Farel  persevered. 
"  Knock ;  cry  out  with  all  your  might,"  wrote  he  in  a 
second  letter ;  "  redouble  your  attacks  upon  our  Lord." 
Still  there  was  no  answer.  Farel  returned  to  the 
charge  a  third  time,  and  Natalis,  fearing  perliaps  to 
reply  in  person,  commissioned  his  secretary,  who  for- 
warded a  letter  to  Farel  full  of  abusive  language.  For 
a  season  Lausanne  was  inaccessible. 

After  having  thus  contended  with  a  priest,  Farel 
was  destined  to  struggle  with  a  monk.  The  two  arms 
of  the  hierarchy  by  which  the  Middle  Ages  had  been 
governed  were  chivalry  and  monachism.  The  latter 
still  remained  for  the  service  of  the  Papacy,  although 
falling  into  decay.  "Alas!"  exclaimed  a  celebrated 
Carthusian,  "what  an  obstinate  devil  would  fear  to 
do,  a  reprobate  and  arrogant  monk  will  commit  with- 
out hesitation." 

A  mendicant  friar,  who  dared  not  oppose  the  reformer 
in  a  direct  manner  at  Aigle,  ventured  into  the  village 
of  Noville,  situated  on  the  low  grounds  deposited  by 
the  Rhone  as  it  falls  into  the  Lake  of  Geneva.  The 
friar,  ;iscending  the  pulpit,  exclaimed  :  "  It  is  the  devU 
himself  who  preaches  by  the  mouth  of  the  minister, 
and  all  those  who  listen  to  him  will  bo  damned." 
Then,  taking  courage,  he  slunk  along  the  bank  of  the 
Rhone,  and  aiTived  at  Aigle  with  a  meek  and  humble 
look,  not  to  appear  there  against  Farel,  whose  power- 
ful elo(iuence  terribly  alarmed  him,  but  to  beg  in  be- 
half of  his  convent  a  few  barrels  of  the  most  exquisite 
wine  in  all  Switzerland.  He  had  not  advanced  many 
steps  into  the  town  before  he  met  the  minister.  At 
this  sight  he  trembled  in  every  limb.  "Why  did  you 
preach  in  such  a  manner  at  Noville '?"  demanded  Farel. 
The  monk,  fearful  that  the  dispute  would  attract  pub- 
lic attention,  and  yet  desirous  of  replying  to  the  point, 
whispered  in  his  ear:  "I  have  heard  say  that  you  are 
a  heretic  and  misleader  of  the  people."  "  Prove  it," 
said  Farel.  Then  the  monk  "  began  to  storm,"  says 
Farel,  and,  hastening  down  the  street,  endeavoured  to 
shake  off  his  disagreeable  companion,  "  turning  now 
this  way,  now  that,  like  a  troubled  conscience."  A 
few  citizens  beginning  to  collect  around  them,  Farel 
said  to  them,  pointing  to  the  monk :  "  You  see  this  line 
father;  he  has  said  from  the  pulpit  that  I  preach  no- 
thing but  lies."  Then  the  monk,  blushing  and  stam- 
mering, began  to  speak  of  the  offerings  of  the  faithful, 
(the  precious  wine  of  Yvorne,  for  which  he  had  come 
begging,)  and  accused  Farel  of  opposing  them.  The 
crowd  had  now  increased  in  number,  and  Farel,  who 
only  sought  au  opportunity  of  proclaiming  the  true 
worship  of  God,  exclaimed  with  a  loud  voice :  "  It  is 


no  man's  business  to  ordain  any  other  way  of  serving- 
God  than  that  which  He  h;is  commanded.  We  must 
keep  His  commandments  without  turning  either  to  the 
right  hand  or  to  the  left.  Let  us  worship  God  alone 
in  spirit  and  in  truth,  offeiung  to  Him  a  broken  and 
a  contrite  heart." 

The  eyes  of  all  the  spectators  were  fixed  on  the  two 
actors  in  this  scene, — the  monk  with  his  wallet,  and 
the  reformer  with  his  glistening  eye.  Confounded  by 
Farel's  daring  to  speak  of  any  other  worship  than 
that  which  the  holy  Roman  Church  prescribed,  the 
friar  "was  out  of  his  senses;  he  trembled,  and  was 
agitated,  becoming  pale  and  red  by  turns.  At  last, 
taking  his  ca])  off  his  head,  from  under  his  hood,  he 
tlung  it  on  the  ground,  trampling  it  under  foot  and 
crying :  '  I  am  surprised  that  the  earth  does  not  gape 
and  swallow  us  up  !'"  .  .  .  Farel  wished  to  reply, 
but  in  vain.  The  friar  with  downcast  eyes  kept  stamp- 
ing on  his  cap,  "bawling  like  one  out  of  his  wits;" 
and  his  cries  resounding  through  the  streets  of  AJgle, 
drowned  the  voice  of  the  reformer.  At  length  one  of 
the  spectators,  who  stood  beside  him,  plucked  him  by 
the  sleeve,  and  said,  "  Listen  to  the  minister,  as  he  is 
listening  to  you."  The  affrighted  monk,  believing 
himself  ah-eady  half-dead,  started  violently  and  cried 
out :  "  Oh,  thou  excommuaicate !  layest  thou  thy  hand 
upon  me?" 

The  little  town  was  in  an  uproar ;  the  friar  at  once 
furious  and  trembling,  Farel  following  up  his  attack 
with  vigour,  and  the  people  confused  and  amazed.  At 
length  the  magistrate  appeared,  ordered  the  monk  and 
Farel  to  follow  him,  and  shut  them  up,  "one  in  one 
tower,  and  one  in  another." 

On  the  Saturday  morning  Fare!  was  liberated  from 
his  prison,  and  conducted  to  the  castle  before  the 
officers  of  justice,  where  the  monk  had  arrived  before 
him.  The  minister  began  to  addi'css  them :  "  Mv 
lords,  to  whom  our  Savioiu-  enjoins  obedience  without 
any  exception,  this  friar  has  said  that  the  doctrine 
which  I  preach  is  against  God.  Let  him  make  good 
his  words,  or  if  he  cannot,  permit  your  people  to  be 
edified."  The  violence  of  the  monk  was  over.  The 
tribunal  before  which  he  was  standing,  the  courage  of 
his  adversary,  the  power  of  the  movement  which  he 
could  not  resist,  the  weakness  of  his  cause, — all  alarmed 
him,  and  he  was  now  ready  to  make  matters  up. 
"  Then  the  friar  fell  upon  his  knees,  saying :  My  lords, 
I  entreat  forgiveness  of  you  and  of  God.  Next  turn- 
ing to  Farel:  And  also,  Magister,  what  I  preached 
against  you  was  grounded  on  false  reports.  I  have 
found  you  to  be  a  good  man,  and  your  doctrine  good, 
and  I  am  prepared  to  recall  my  words." 

Farel  was  touched  by  this  appeal,  and  said:  "My 
friend,  do  not  ask  forgiveness  of  me,  for  I  am  a  poor 
sinner  like  other  men,  putting  my  trust  not  in  my  own 
righteousness,  but  in  the  death  of  Jesus." 

One  of  the  lords  of  Berne  coming  up  at  this  time, 
the  friar,  who  already  imagined  himself  on  the  brink 
of  martyrdom,  began  to  wring  his  hands,  and  to  turn 
now  towards  the  Bernese  councillors,  now  towards  the 
tribunal,  and  then  to  Farel,  crying,  "Pardon,  pardon!" 
— "Ask  pardon  of  our  Saviour,"  replied  Farel.  The 
lord  of  Berne  added :  "  Come  to-morrow  and  hear  the 
minister's  sermon ;  if  he  appears  to  you  to  preach  the 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


truth,  you  shall  confess  it  openly  before  all;  if  not,  you 
will  declare  your  opinion :  this  promise  in  ray  hand." 
The  monk  held  out  his  hand,  and  the  judges  retired. 
"  Then  the  friar  went  away,  and  I  have  not  seen  him 
since,  and  no  promises  or  oaths  were  able  to  make  him 
stay."  Thus  the  Keformation  advanced  in  Switzer- 
land Romande. 

But  violent  storms  threatened  to  destroy  the  work 
that  was  hardly  begun.  Romish  agents  from  the  Valais 
and  from  Savoy  had  crossed  the  Rhone  at  St.  Maurice, 
and  were  exciting  the  people  to  energetic  resistance. 
Tumultuous  assemblages  took  place,  in  which  danger- 
ous projects  were  discussed ;  the  proclamations  of  the 
government  were  torn  down  from  the  church-doors ; 
troops  of  citizens  paraded  the  city;  the  drum  beat  in 
the  streets  to  excite  the  populace  against  the  reformer 
everywhere  prevailed  riot  and  sedition.  And  lience, 
when  Farel  ascended  the  pulpit  on  the  16th  February, 


M 


for  the  iirst  time  after  a  short  absence,  some  Papist 
bands  collected  round  the  gate  of  the  church,  raised 
their  hands  in  tumult,  uttered  savage  cries,  and  com- 
pelled the  minister  to  break  off  in  his  sermon. 

The  council  of  Berne  thereupon  decreed  that  the 
parishioners  of  the  four  mandemens  should  assemble. 
Those  of  Bex  declared  for  the  Reform ;  Aigle  followed 
their  example,  but  with  indecision ;  and  in  the  moun- 
tains above  Ollon,  the  peasants,  not  daring  to  maltreat 
Farel,  excited  their  wives,  who  rushed  upon  him  witli 
their  fulling-clubs.  But  it  was  especially  the  parish  of 
the  Ormonds  which,  calm  and  proud  at  the  foot  of  its 
glaciers,  signalized  itself  by  its  resistance.  A  companion 
of  Farel's  labours,  named  Claude,  (probably  Claude  de 
Gloutinis,)  when  preaching  there  one  day  with  great 
animation,  was  suddenly  interrupted  by  the  ringing  of 
the  bells,  whose  noise  was  such  that  one  might  have 
said  all  hell  was  busy  pulling  them.  "  In  fact,"  says 
another  herald  of  the  Gospel,  Jacques  Camralis,  who 
chanced  to  be  present,  "it  was  Satan  himself,  who, 
breathing  his  anger  into  some  of  his  agents,  tilled  the 
ears  of  the  auditors  with  all  this  uproar."     At  another 


time,  some  zealous  reformers  having  thrown  down  the 
altars  of  Baal,  according  to  the  language  of  the  times, 
the  evil  spirit  began  to  blow  with  violence  in  all  the 
chalets  scattered  over  the  sides  of  the  mountains ;  the 
shepherds  issued  precipitously  like  avalanches,  and  fell 
upon  the  Church  and  the  Evangelicals.  "Let  us  only 
tind  these  sacrilegious  wretches,"  cried  the  furious 
Ormondines ;  "  we  will  hang  them — we  will  cut  off 
their  heads — we  will  biurn  them — we  will  throw  their 
ashes  into  the  Great  Water."  Thus  were  these  moun- 
taineers agitated,  like  the  wind  that  roars  in  their  lofty 
valleys  with  a  fury  unknown  to  the  inhabitants  of  the 
plains. 

Other  ditficulties  overwhelmed  Farel.  His  fellow- 
labourers  were  not  all  of  them  blameless.  One  Chris- 
topher Ballista,  formerly  a  monk  of  Paris,  had  written 
to  Zwingle :  "  I  am  but  a  Gaul,  a  barbarian,  but  you 
will  find  me  pure  as  snow,  without  any  guile,  of  open 
heait,  through  whose 
./  windows  all    the  world 

I /^/  may  bee."     Zwingle  sent 

Ballista  to  Farel,  who 
«  IS  loudly  calling  for  la- 
1  UK  is  in  Christ's  vine- 
\  1  1  The  fine  language 
the  Parisian  at  first 
Limed  the  multitude; 

I  t    it   was  soon  found 
.  .  -siiy  to  beware  of 

pnests  and  monks 

ii-ted   with  Popery. 

uglit    up     in     the 

-»        ^pw"?        1        -^r     ;SHi.  ^  thtnlness  of  the  clois- 

^,  -^^fe^,,  1  vMr*       til   gluttonous  and  lazy," 

^\    "-^^V-         A /I       m      .  p_^j.g,^     "Ballista 

not    conform    to 

abstemiousness   and 

e  labours  of  the  evan- 

sts,  and  soon  began  to 

I I  j;i  et  his  monk's  hood. 
When  he  perceived  the 
people  beginning  to  dis- 
trust him,  he  became  like  a  furious  monster,  vomiting 
waggon-loads  of  threats."     Thus  ended  his  labours. 

Notwithstanding  all  these  trials,  Farel  was  not  dis- 
couraged. The  greater  the  ditficulties,  the  more  his 
energy  increased.  "Let  us  scatter  the  seed  everyv^'here," 
said  he,  "  and  let  civilized  France,  provoked  to  jealousy 
by  this  barbarous  nation,  embrace  piety  at  last.  Let 
there  not  be  in  Christ's  body  either  fingers,  or  hands, 
or  feet,  or  eyes,  or  ears,  or  arras,  existing  separately 
and  working  each  for  itself ;  but  let  there  be  only  one 
heart  that  nothing  can  divide.  Let  not  variety  in 
secondary  things  divide  into  many  separate  members 
that  vital  principle  which  is  one  and  simple.  Alas! 
the  pastures  of  the  Church  are  trodden  under  foot,  and 
its  waters  are  troubled !  Let  us  set  our  minds  to  con- 
cord and  peace.  When  the  Lord  shall  have  opened 
heaven,  there  will  not  be  so  many  disputes  about  bread 
and  water.^  A  fervent  charity — that  is  the  powerful 
battering-ram  with  which  we  shall  beat  down  those 
proud  walls,  those  material  elements,  with  which  men 
would  confine  us." 

1  An  allusion  to  the  controversies  on  Anabaptism  and  the  real  presence. 


STATE  RELIGION  IN  BERNE. 


403 


Thus  wrote  the  most  impetuous  of  the  reformers. 
These  words  of  Farel,  preserved  for  tlirec  centuries  in 
the  city  where  he  died,  disclose  to  us  more  clearly  the 
intimate  nature  of  the  great  Revolution  of  the  sixteenth 
century,  than  all  the  venturesome  assertions  of  its 
popish  interpreters.  Christian  unity  thus,  from  these 
earliest  moments,  found  a  zealous  apostle.  The  nine- 
teenth century  is  called  to  resume  the  work  which  the 
sixteenth  century  was  unable  to  accomplish. 


CHAPTER  II. 

Stato  Beligion  in  Berne — Irresolution  of  Berno— Almanac  of  Heretics — 
Evangelical  Majority— Haller—Zwingle's  Signal— Anabaptists  in  Bcmo 
—Victory  of  the  Gospel— Papist  Provocations— The  City  Companies- 
Proposed  Dispntation— Objections  of  the  Forest  Cantons— The  Church, 
the  Judge  of  Controversies— Unequal  Contest— Zwingic— A  Christian 
Band — The  Cordelier's  Church — Opening  of  the  Conference- The  Sole 
Head— Unity  of  Error— A  Priest  Converted  at  the  Altar— St.  Vincent's 
Day— The  Butchers — ^A  Strange  Argument — Papist  Bitterness— Ne- 
cessity of  Reform— Zmngle's  Sennon— Visit  of  the  King  of  kings — 
Edict  of  Reform— Was  the  Reformation  Political ! 

Or  all  the  Swiss  cantons,  Berne  appeared  the  least  dis- 
posed to  the  Reformation.     A  military  state  may  be 
zealous  for  religion,  but 
it  will  be  for  an  external  _ 

and  a  disciplined  religion:  -  =^gf 

it  requires  an  ecclesias-         ^Ss^^ 
tical  organization  that  it  ^  ^  — 

can  see,  and  touch,  and 
manage  at  its  will.  It 
fears  the  innovations  and 
the  free  movements  ot 
the  AVord  of  God:  it 
loves  the  form  and  not 
the  life.  Napoleon,  by 
restoring  religion  in 
France,  in  the  Concor- 
dat, has  given  us  a 
memorable  example  of 
this  truth.  Such,  also, 
was  the  case  with  Berne. 
Its  government,  beside^, 
was  absorbed  in  political 
interests ;  and  although 
it  had  little  regard  for 
the  pope,  it  cared  still 
less  to  see  a  reformer 
put  himself,  as  Zwingle 

did,  at  the  head  of  public  affairs.  As  for  the  people, 
feasting  on  "the  butter  of  their  kine,  and  milk  of 
their  sheep,  with  fat  of  lambs,"  they  remained  closely 
shut  up  within  the  narrow  circle  of  their  material 
wants.  Religious  questions  were  not  to  the  taste  either 
of  the  rulers  or  of  their  fellow-citizens. 

The  Bernese  government,  being  without  experience 
in  religious  matters,  had  proposed  to  check  the  move- 
ment of  the  Reform  by  its  edict  of  1523.  As  soon  as 
it  discovered  its  mistake,  it  moved  towards  the  cantons 
that  adhered  to  the  ancient  faith  ;  and  while  that  por- 
tion of  the  people  whence  the  Great  Council  was  re- 


cruited, listened  to  the  voice  of  the  reformers,  most  of 
the  p.atrician  families,  who  composed  the  Smaller  Coun- 
cil, believing  their  power,  their  interests,  and  their 
honour  menaced,  attached  themselves  to  the  old  order 
of  things.  From  this  opposition  of  the  two  councils 
there  arose  a  general  uneasiness,  but  no  violent  shocks. 
Sudden  movements,  repeated  starts,  announced  from 
time  to  time  that  incongruous  matters  were  fermenting 
in  the  nation ;  it  was  like  an  indistinct  earthquake, 
which  raises  the  whole  surface  without  causing  any 
rents :  then,  anon,  all  returns  to  apparent  tranquility. 
Berne,  which  was  always  decided  in  its  politics,  turned 
in  religious  matters  at  one  time  to  the  right,  and  at  an- 
other to  the  left ;  and  declared  that  it  would  be  neither 
popish  nor  reformed.  To  gain  time  was,  for  the  new 
faith,  to  gain  everything. 

"What  was  done  to  turn  aside  Berne  from  the  Refor- 
mation was  the  very  cause  of  precipitating  it  into  the 
new  way.  The  haughtiness  with  which  the  five  primi- 
tive cantons  arrogated  the  guardianship  of  their  con- 
federates, the  secret  conferences  to  which  Berne  was 
not  even  invited,  and  the  threat  of  addressing  the 
people  in  a  direct  manner,  deeply  offended  the  Bernese 
oligarchs.  Thomas  Murner,  a  Carmelite  of  Lucerne, 
one  of  those  rude  men  who  act  upon  the  populace,  but 


Wh( 


inspi 


minds,  made  the  cup 
the  Zurich  calendar,  in 


which   the   namcb   ot   the   ^unt^   had   been    puiposely     I 
omitted,  he  published,  in  opposition  to  it,  the  "Alma-     | 
nac  of  Heretics  and  Church-robbers," — a  tract  filled 
with  lampoons  and  invectives,  in  which  the  portraits     j 
of  the  reformers  and  of  their  adherents,  among  whom 
were  many  of  the   most  considerable  men   of  Berne, 
were  coupled  with  the  most  brutal  inscriptions.    Zurich 
and  Berne  in  conjunction  demanded  satisfaction,  and 
from  this  time  the  union  of  these  two  states  daily  be- 
came closer. 

This  change  was  soon   perceived  at  Berne.      The 
elections  of  1527  placed  a  considerable  number  of 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


friends  of  the  Eeforra  iu  the  Great  Council ;  and  this 
body,  forthwith  resuming  its  right  to  nominate  the 
members  of  the  Smaller  Council,  which  had  been 
usurped  for  twenty  years  by  the  Bannerets  and  the 
Sixteen,  removed  from  the  government  the  most  de- 
cided partisans  of  the  Romau  hierarchy,  and  among 
others,  Gaspard  do  Mulinen  and  Sebastian  de  Stein, 
and  filled  the  vacancies  with  members  of  the  evan- 
gelical majority.  The  union  of  Church  and  State, 
which  had  hitherto  checked  the  progress  of  the  Reform 
in  Switzerland,  was  now  about  to  accelerate  its  move- 
ments. 

The  reformer  Haller  was  not  alone  in  Berne.  Kolb 
had  quitted  the  Carthusian  monastery  at  Nuremberg, 
in  which  he  had  been  compelled  to  take  refuge,  and 
had  appeared  before  his  compatriots,  demanding  no 
other  stipend  than  the  liberty  of  preaching  Jesus 
Christ.  Already  bending  under  the  weight  of  years, 
his  head  crowned  wdth  hoary  locks,  Kolb,  young  in 
heart,  full  of  fire,  and  of  indomitable  courage,  presented 
boldly  before  the  chiefs  of  the  nation  that  Gospel 
which  had  saved  him.  Haller,  on  the  contrary, 
although  only  thirty-five  years  old,  moved  with  a 
measured  step,  spoke  with  gravity,  and  proclaimed  the 
new  doctrines  with  unusual  circumspection.  The  old 
man  had  taken  the  young  man's  part,  and  the  youth 
that  of  the  grey-beard. 

Zwingle,  whose  eye  nothing  escaped,  saw  that  a 
favourable  hour  for  Berne  was  coming,  and  imme- 
diately gave  the  signal.  "  The  dove  commissioned  to 
examine  the  state  of  the  waters  is  returning  with  an 
olive-branch  into  the  ark,"  -(vrote  he  to  Haller ;  "  come 
forth  now,  thou  second  Noah,  and  take  possession  of 
the  laud.  Enforce,  be  earnest,  and  fix  deeply  in  the 
hearts  of  men  the  hooks  and  grapnels  of  the  Word  of 
God,  so  that  they  can  never  again  be  rid  of  them." — 
"  Yoiu-  bears,"  wrote  ho  to  Thomas  ab  Hofen,  "  have 
again  put  forth  their  claws.  Please  God  that  they  do 
not  draw  them  back  until  they  have  torn  everything  in 
pieces  that  opposes  Jesus  Christ." 

Haller  and  his  friends  were  on  the  point  of  replying 
to  this  appeal,  when  their  situation  became  complicated. 
Some  Anabaptists,  who  formed  everywhere  the  extreme 
party,  arriving  at  Berne  in  1527,  led  away  the  people 
from  the  evangelical  preachers  "on  account  of  the  pre- 
sence of  idols."  Haller  had  a  useless  conference  with 
them.  "  To  what  dangers  is  not  Christianity  exposed," 
cried  he,  "  wherever  these  furies  have  ci-ept  in ! " 
There  has  never  been  any  revival  in  the  Church  without 
the  hierarchical  or  radical  sects  immediately  endeavour- 
ing to  disturb  it.  Haller,  although  alarmed,  still  main- 
tained his  imalterable  meekness.  "The  magistrates  are 
desirous  of  banishing  them,"  said  he;  "but  it  is  our 
duty  to  drive  out  their  errors,  and  not  their  persons. 
Let  us  employ  no  other  weapons  than  the  sword  of  the 
Spirit."  It  was  not  from  Popery  that  the  reformers 
had  learnt  these  principles.  A  public  disputation  took 
place.  Six  Anabaptists  declared  themselves  convinced, 
and  two  others  were  sent  out  of  the  country. 

The  decisive  moment  was  drawing  near.  The  two 
great  powers  of  the  age — the  Gospel  and  the  Papacy — 
were  stirring  -with  equal  energy ;  the  Bernese  councils 
were  to  speak  out.  They  saw,  on  the  one  hand,  the 
five  primitive  cantons  taking  daily  a  more  threatening 


attitude,  and  announcing  that  the  Austrian  would 
soon  reappear  in  Helvetia,  to  reduce  it  once  more  into 
subjection  to  Rome;  and  on  the  other,  they  beheld 
the  Gospel  every  day  gaining  ground  in  the  confedera- 
tion. Which  was  destined  to  prevail  in  Switzerland: 
the  lances  of  Austria  or  the  Word  of  God?  In  the 
uncertainty  in  which  the  councils  were  placed,  they 
resolved  to  side  with  the  majority.  Where  could  they 
discover  a  firm  footing  if  not  there?  Vox.  jwpiili,  vox 
Dei.  "  No  one,"  said  they,  "  can  make  any  change  of 
his  own  private  authority:  the  consent  of  all  is  neces- 
sary." 

The  government  of  Berne  had  to  decide  between  two 
mandates,  both  emanating  from  its  authority :  that  of 
1523,  in  favour  of  the  free  preaching  of  the  Gospel, 
and  that  of  1526,  in  favour  "  of  the  sacraments,  the 
saints,  the  mother  of  God,  and  the  ornaments  of  the 
churches."  State  messengers  set  out,  and  traversed 
every  parish :  the  people  gave  their  votes  against  every 
law  contrary  to  liberty,  and  the  councils,  supported  by 
the  nation,  decreed  that  "  the  Word  of  God  should  be 
preached  publicly  and  freely,  even  if  it  should  be  in 
opposition  to  the  statutes  and  doctrines  of  men."  Such 
was  the  victory  of  the  Gospel  and  of  the  people  over 
the  oligarchy  and  the  priests. 

Contentions  immediately  arose  throughout  the  canton, 
and  every  parish  became  a  battle-field.  The  peasants 
began  to  dispute  with  the  priests  and  monks,  in  reliance 
on  the  Holy  Scriptures.  "If  the  mandate  of  our  lords," 
said  many,  "accords  to  our  pastors  the  liberty  of 
preaching,  why  should  it  not  grant  the  flock  the  liberty 
of  acting  ?  " — "  Peace,  peace !  "  cried  the  councils, 
alarmed  at  their  own  boldness.  But  the  flocks  reso- 
lutely declared  that  they  would  send  away  the  mass, 
and  keep  their  pastors  and  the  Bible.  Upon  this  the 
papal  partisans  grew  violent.  The  banneret  Kuttler 
called  the  good  people  of  Emmenthal,  "heretics, 
rascals,  wantons ; "  but  these  peasants  obliged  him  to 
make  an  apology.  The  bailiff  of  Trachselwald  was 
more  cunning.  Seeing  the  inhabitants  of  Rudersweil 
listening  with  eagerness  to  the  Word  of  God,  which  a 
pious  minister  was  preaching  to  them,  he  came  with 
fifers  and  trumpeters,  and  interrupted  the  sermon,  in- 
viting the  village  girls,  by  words  and  by  lively  tunes, 
to  quit  the  church  for  the  dance. 

These  singular  provocations  did  not  check  the  Re- 
form. Six  of  the  city  companies  (the  shoemakers, 
weavers,  merchants,  bakers,  stone-masons,  and  car- 
penters) abolished  in  the  churches  and  convents  of 
their  district  all  masses,  anniversaries,  advowsons,  and 
prebends.  Three  others  (the  tanners,  smiths,  and 
tailors)  prepared  to  imitate  them ;  the  seven  remaining 
companies  were  undecided,  except  the  butchers,  who 
were  enthusiastic  for  the  pope.  Thus  the  majority  of 
the  citizens  had_  embraced  the  Gospel.  Many  parishes 
throughout  the  canton  had  done  the  same;  and  the 
avoyer  d'Erlach,  that  great  adversary  of  the  Reforma- 
tion, could  no  longer  keep  the  torrent  within  bounds. 

Yet  the  attempt  was  made :  the  bailiffs  were  ordered 
to  note  the  irregularities  and  dissolute  lives  of  the 
monks  and  nuns ;  all  women  of  loose  morals  were  even 
turned  out  of  the  cloisters.  But  it  was  not  against 
these  abuses  alone  that  the  Reformation  was  levelled ; 
it  was  against  the  institutions  themselves,  and  against 


PROPOSED  DISPUTATION. 


495 


Po])cry,  on  which  they  were  founded.  The  people 
oiiglit  tliercfore  to  decide. — "  The  Bernese  clcrgj',"  said 
the)',  "must  be  convoked,  as  at  Zurich,  and  let  tlie  two 
doctrines  be  discussed  in  a  solemn  conference.  We 
will  proceed  afterwards  in  conformity  with  the  result." 

On  the  Sunday  following  the  festival  of  St.  Martin, 
(lltli  November,)  the  council  and  citizens  unanimously 
resolved  that  a  public  disputation  should  take  place  at 
the  beginning  of  the  succeeding  year.  "Tiie  glory  of 
God  and  His  Word,"  said  they,  "will  at  length  appear!" 
Bernese  and  strangers,  priests  and  laymen,  all  were  in- 
vited by  letter  or  by  printed  notice  to  come  and  discuss 
the  controverted  points,  but  by  Scripture  alone,  with- 
out the  glosses  of  tlie  ancients,  and  renouncing  all 
subtleties  and  abusive  language.  Who  knows,  said 
they,  whether  all  the  members  of  the  ancient  Swiss 
confederation  may  not  be  thus  brought  to  unity  of 
faith? 

Thus,  within  the  walls  of  Berue,  the  struggle  was 
about  to  take  place  that  would  decide  the  fate  of 
Switzerland;  for  the  example  of  the  Bernese  must 
necessarily  lead  with  it  a  great  part  of  the  confedera- 
tion. 

The  Five  Cantons,  alarmed  at  this  intelligence,  met 
at  Lucerne,  where  they  were  joined  by  Friburg,  Soleure, 
and  Glaris.  There  was  nothing  either  in  the  letter  or 
in  the  spirit  of  the  federal  compact  to  obstruct  religious 
liberty.  "  Every  state,"  said  Zurich,  "  is  free  to  choose 
the  doctrine  that  it  desires  to  profess."  The  AVald- 
stettes,^  on  the  contrary,  wished  to  deprive  the  cantons 
of  tliis  independence,  and  to  subject  them  to  the  federal 
majority  and  to  the  pope.  They  protested,  therefore, 
in  the  name  of  the  confederation,  against  the  proposed 
discussion.  "Your  ministers,"  wrote  they  to  Berne, 
"  dazzled  and  confounded  at  Baden  by  the  brightness 
of  truth,  would  desire  by  this  new  discussion  to  hide 
their  shame ;  but  we  entreat  you  to  desist  from  a  plan 
so  contrary  to  our  ancient  alliances." — "  It  is  not  we 
who  have  infringed  them,"  replied  Berne ;  "  it  is  much 
rather  your  haughty  missive  that  has  destroyed  them. 
We  will  not  abandon  the  Word  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ."  Upon  this  the  Roman  cantons  decided  on 
refusing  a  safe-conduct  to  those  who  should  proceed  to 
Berne.     This  was  giving  token  of  sinister  intentions. 

The  bishops  of  Lausanne,  Constance,  Bale,  and 
Sion,  being  invited  to  the  conference  under  pain  of 
forfeiting  all  their  privileges  in  the  canton  of  Berne, 
replied,  that  since  it  was  to  be  a  disputation  according 
to  tiie  Scriptures,  they  had  nothing  to  do  with  it.  Thus 
did  these  priests  forget  the  words  of  one  of  the  most 
illustrious  Koman  doctors  of  the  fifteenth  century:  "  In 
heavenly  tilings  man  should  be  independent  of  his 
fellows,  and  trust  in  God  alone." 

The  Romanist  doctors  followed  the  example  of  the 
bishops.  Eck,  Murner,  Coclilirus,  and  many  others, 
said,  wherever  they  went :  "  We  have  received  the 
letter  of  this  leper,  of  this  accursed  heretic,  Zwingle. 
They  want  to  take  the  Bible  for  their  judge ;  but  has 
the  Bible  a  voice  against  those  who  do  it  violence?  We 
will  not  go  to  Berne  ;  we  will  not  crawl  into  that  ob- 
scure corner  of  the  world  ;  we  will  not  go  and  combat 
in  that  gloomy  cavern,  in  that  school  of  heretics.     Let 

1  Tlie  inliabit,inta  of  the  primitive  democratic  cantons,  Schwytz,  Uri, 
Undenvald,  imd  Lucerne,  to  which  Zug  may  be  added. 


these  villiaus  come  out  into  the  open  air,  and  contend 
with  us  on  level  ground,  if  they  have  the  Bible  on  their 
side,  as  they  say."  The  empci-or  ordered  the  discussion 
to  be  adjourned ;  but  on  the  very  day  of  its  opening, 
the  council  of  Berne  replied,  that  as  every  one  was 
already  assembled,  delay  would  be  impossible. 

Then,  in  despite  of  the  doctors  and  bishops,  the 
Helvetic  Church  assembled  to  decide  upon  its  doc- 
trines. Had  it  a  right  to  do  so?  No — not  if  priests 
and  bishops  were  appointed,  as  Rome  pretends,  to  form 
a  mystic  bond  between  the  Church  and  our  Lord  ;  Yes 
— if  they  were  established,  as  the  Bible  declares,  only 
to  satisfy  that  law  of  order  by  virtue  of  which  all 
society  should  have  a  directing  power.  The  opinions 
of  the  Swiss  reformers  in  this  respect  were  not  doubt- 
ful. The  gi-ace  which  creates  the  minister  comes  from 
the  Lord,  thought  they;  but  the  Church  examines  this 
gi'ace,  acknowledges  it,  proclaims  it  by  the  elders,  and 
in  every  act  in  which  faith  is  concerned  it  can  always 
appeal  from  the  minister  to  the  AVord  of  God.  Try  the 
spirits — 2'"''>ve  all  things^  it  says  to  the  faithful.  The 
Church  is  the  judge  of  controversies;  and  it  is  this 
duty,  in  which  it  should  never  bo  found  wanting,  that 
it  was  now  about  to  fulfil  in  the  disputation  at  Berne. 

The  contest  seemed  unequal.  On  one  side  appeared 
the  Roman  hierarchy,  a  giant  which  had  increased  in 
strength  during  many  centuries ;  and  on  the  other, 
there  was  at  first  but  one  weak  and  timid  man,  the 
modest  Berthold  Haller.  "  I  cannot  wield  the  sword 
of  the  Word,"  said  he  in  alarm  to  his  friends.  "If 
you  do  not  stretch  out  your  hands  to  me,  all  is  over." 
He  then  threw  himself  trembling  at  the  feet  of  the 
Lord,  and  soon  arose  enlightened,  and  exclaiming, 
"  Faith  in  the  Saviour  gives  me  courage,  and  scatters 
all  my  fears." 

Yet  he  could  not  remain  alone :  all  his  looks  were 
turned  toward  Zwingle :  "  It  was  I  who  took  the  bath 
at  Baden,"  wrote  QEcolampadius  to  Haller,  "  and  now 
it  is  Zwingle  who  should  lead  off  the  bear-dance  in 
Berne."" — "AYe  arc  between  the  hammer  and  the 
anvil,"  wrote  Haller  to  Zwingle;  "we  hold  the  wolf 
by  the  ears,  and  know  not  how  to  let  him  go.  The 
houses  of  De  Watteville,  Noll,  Tremp,  and  Berthold, 
are  open  to  you.  Come,  then,  and  command  the  battle 
in  person." 

Zwingle  did  not  hesitate.  He  demanded  permission 
of  the  council  of  Zurich  to  visit  Berne,  in  order  to  shew 
there  "  that  his  teaching  was  full  of  the  fear  of  God, 
and  not  blasphemous ;  mighty  to  spread  concord 
through  Switzerland,  and  not  to  cause  troubles  and 
dissension."  At  the  very  time  that  Haller  received 
news  of  Zwingle's  coming,  CEcolampadius  wrote  to 
him :  "  I  am  ready,  if  it  be  necessary,  to  sacrifice  my 
life.  Let  us  inaugurate  the  new  year  by  embracing 
one  another  to  the  glory  of  Jesus  Christ."  Other 
doctors  wrote  to  the  same  effect.  "These,  then,"  cried 
Haller  with  emotion,  "these  are  the  auxiliaries  that 
the  Lord  sends  to  my  infirmity,  to  aid  me  in  fighting 
this  rude  battle  I " 

It  was  necessary  to  proceed  wth  circumspection,  for 
the  violence  of  the  oligarchs  and  of  the  Five  Cantons 
is  well  known.     The  doctors  of  Glaris,  Schaffhausen, 

2  An  allusion  to  tbs  dispute  at  Baden,  a  celebrated  bathing-place,  and  to 
the  arms  of  Bemo. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


St.  Gall,  Constance,  Ulni,  Lindau,  and  Augsburg,  as- 
sembled at  Zurich,  to  proceed  under  the  same  escort 
as  Zwingle,  Pellican,  Collin,  Megander,  Grossman,  the 
commander  Schmidt,  Bullinger,  and  a  great  number 
of  the  rural  clergy,  selected  to  accompany  the  reformer. 
"  When  all  this  game  traverses  the  country,"  said  the 
pensioners,  "we  will  go  a-hunting,  and  see  if  we  cannot 
Icill  some,  or  at  least  catch  them  and  put  them  into  a 
cage." 

Three  hundred  chosen  men,  selected  from  the  com- 
panies of  Zurich  and  from  the  parishes  within  its  pre- 
cincts, donned  their  breastplates  and  shouldered  their 
arquebuses ;  but  in  order  not  to  give  the  journey  of 
these  doctors  the  appearance  of  a  military  expedition, 
they  took  neither  colours,  fife,  nor  drum;  and  the 
trumpeter  of  the  city,  a  civil  officer,  rode  alone  at  the 
head  of  the  company. 

On  Tuesday,  the  2d  of  January,  they  set  out.  Never 
had  Zwingle  appeared  more  cheerful.  "Glory  be  to 
the  Lord,"  said  he,  "my  courage  increases  every  day." 
The  liurgomaster  Roust,  the  town-clerk  of  Mangoldt, 
with  Funck  and  Jaiikli,  both  masters  of  arts,  and  all 
four  delegated  by  the  council,  were  on  horseback  near 
him.  They  reached  Berne  on  the  4th  of  January, 
having  had  only  one  or  two  unimportant  alarms. 

The  Cordeliers'  Church  was  to  serve  as  the  place  of 
conference.  Tillmann,  the  city  architect,  had  made 
arrangements  according  to  a  plan  furnished  by  Zwingle. 
A  large  platfoi-ra  had  been  erected,  on  which  were 
placed  two  tables,  and  around  them  sat  the  champions 
of  the  two  parties.  On  the  Evangelical  side  were  re- 
marked, besides  Haller,  Zwingle,  and  OEcolampadius, 
many  distinguished  men  of  the  Reformed  Church, 
.strangers  to  Switzerland,  as  Buccr,  Capito,  and  Am- 
brose Blarer.  On  the  side  of  the  Papacy,  Dr.  Treger 
of  Friburg,  who  enjoyed  a  high  reputation,  appeared 
to  keep  up  the  fire  of  the  combat.  As  for  the  rest, 
whether  through  fear  or  contempt,  the  most  famous 
Roman  doctors  were  absent. 

The  first  act  was  to  publish  the  regulations  of  the 
conference.  "No  proof  shall  be  proposed  that  is  not 
drawn  from  the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  no  explanation 
shall  be  given  of  those  Scriptures  that  does  not  come 
from  Scripture  itself,  explaining  obscure  texts  by  such 
as  are  clear."  After  this,  one  of  the  secretaries,  rising 
to  call  over  the  roll,  .shouted  with  a  loud  voice  that 
re-echoed  through  the  church, — ^The  Bishop  of  Con- 
stance! No  one  replied.  He  did  the  same  for  the 
bishops  of  Zion,  Bale,  and  Lausanne.  Neither  of  these 
prelates  was  present  at  this  meeting,  either  in  person 
or  by  deputy.  The  Word  of  God  being  destined  to 
reign  alone,  the  Roman  hierarchy  did  not  appear. 
These  two  powers  cannot  walk  together.  There  were 
present  about  three  hundred  and  fifty  Swiss  and 
German  ecclesiastics. 

On  Tuesday,  7th  January,  1528,  the  burgomaster 
Vadian,  of  St.  Gall,  one  of  tlie  presidents,  opened  the 
disputation.  After  him  the  aged  Kolb  stood  up  and 
said :  "  God  is  at  this  moment  agitating  the  whole 
world ;  let  us,  therefore,  humble  ourselves  before 
Him ;"  and  he  pronounced  with  fervour  a  confession 
of  sins. 

This  being  ended,  the  first  thesis  was  read.  It  ran 
thus  :  "  The  holy  Christian  Church,  of  which  Christ  is 


the  sole  head,  is  born  of  the  Word  of  God,  abideth  in 
it,  and  listeneth  not  to  the  voice  of  a  stranger." 

Alexis  Grat,  (a  Dominican  monk.) — "  The  word  sole 
is  not  in  Scripture.  Christ  has  left  a  vicar  here 
below." 

Haller. — "The  vicar  that  Christ  left  is  the  Holy 
Ghost." 

Treger. — "  See,  then,  to  what  a  pass  thing.s  have 
come  these  last  ten  years.  This  man  calls  himself  a 
Lutheran,  that  a  Zwinglian ;  a  third,  a  Carlstadtian ; 
a  fourth,  an  OScolampadist ;  a  fifth,  an  Anabaptist."  .  . 

Biicer. — "Whosoever  preaches  Jesus  as  the  only 
Saviour  we  recognise  as  our  brother.  Neither  Luther, 
nor  Zwingle,  nor  OEcolampadius,  desires  the  faithful 
to  bear  his  name.  Besides,  you  should  not  boast  so 
much  of  a  mere  external  unity.  When  Antichrist 
gained  the  upperhand  throughout  the  world, — in  the 
east  by  Mohammed,  in  the  west  by  the  pope,  he  was 
able  to  keep  the  people  in  unity  of  error.  God 
permits  divisions,  in  order  that  those  who  belong  to 
Him  may  learn  not  to  look  to  men,  but  to  the  testi- 
mony of  the  Word,  and  to  the  assurance  of  the  Holy 
Ghost  in  their  hearts.  Thus,  then,  dearly  beloved 
brethren,  to  the  Scriptures,  the  Scriptures !  O  Church 
of  Berne,  hold  fast  to  the  teaching  of  Him  who  said, 
Come  unto  me,  and  not.  Come  unto  mij  vicar .'" 

The  disputation  then  turned  successively  on  Tra- 
dition, the  merits  of  Christ,  Transubstantiation,  the 
Mass,  Prayer  to  the  Saints,  Purgatory,  Images, 
Celibacy,  and  the  disorders  of  the  clergy.  Rome 
found  numerous  defenders,  and  among  others,  Murer, 
priest  of  Rapperswyl,  who  had  said:  "If  they  wish  to 
burn  the  two  ministers  of  Berne,  I  wiU  undertake  to 
carry  them  both  to  the  stake." 

On  Sunday,  the  19th  of  January,  the  day  on  which 
the  doctrine  of  the  mass  was  attacked,  Zwingle, 
desirous  of  acting  on  the  people  also,  went  into  the 
pulpit,  and  reciting  the  Apostles'  Creed,  made  a  pause 
after  these  words :  "  He  ascended  into  heaven,  and 
sitteth  at  the  right  hand  of  God  the  Father  Almighty; 
from  thence  He  shall  come  to  judge  the  quick  and  the 
dead."  "  These  three  articles,"  said  he,  "  are  in  con- 
tradiction to  the  mass."  All  his  hearers  redoubled 
their  attention  ;  and  a  priest,  clothed  in  his  sacerdotal 
vestments,  who  was  preparing  to  celebrate  the  holy 
sacrifice  in  one  of  the  chapels,  stopped  in  astonishment 
at  Zwingle's  words.  Erect,  before  the  consecrated 
altar  on  which  lay  the  chalice  and  the  body  of  the 
Saviour,  with  eyes  fixed  upon  the  reformer,  whose 
words  electrified  the  people,  a  prey  to  the  most  violent 
struggles,  and  beaten  down  by  the  weight  of  truth,  the 
agitated  priest  resolved  to  give  up  everything  for  it. 
In  the  presence  of  the  whole  assembly,  he  stripped  off 
his  priestly  ornaments,  and  throwing  them  on  the  altar, 
he  exclaimed:  "Unless  the  mass  reposes  on  a  more 
solid  foundation,  I  can  celebrate  it  no  longer!"  The 
noise  of  this  conversion,  effected  at  the  very  foot  of 
the  altar,  immediately  spread  through  the  city,^  and  it 
was  regarded  as  an  important  omen.  So  long  as  the 
mass  remains,  Rome  has  gained  everything:  as  soon  as 
the  mass  falls,  Rome  has  lost  all.  The  mass  is  the 
creative  principle  of  the  whole  system  of  Popery. 

Three  days  later,  on  the  22d  January,  was  the  feast 

^  In  this  and  other  quott-xtions,  we  preserve  the  orthogr.iphy  of  tlic  times. 


ST.  VINCENT'S  DAY— A  STRANGE  ARGUMENT. 


of  St.  Vincent,  the  patron  of  the  city.  The  disputa- 
tion that  had  been  continued  during  Sunday  was  sus- 
pended on  that  day.  The  canons  asked  the  council 
what  they  were  to  do.  "  Such  of  you,"  replied  the 
council,  "as  receive  the  doctrine  of  the  thesis  ought 
not  to  say  mass;  the  others  may  perform  Divine  wor- 
ship as  usual.'"  Every  preparation  was  accordingly 
made  for  the  solemnity.  On  St.  Vincent's  eve  the  bells 
from  every  steeple  announced  the  festival  to  the  inhabi- 
tants of  Berne.  On  the  morrow,  the  sacristans  lit  up 
the  tapers;  incense  filled  the  temple,  but  no  one 
appeared.  No  priests  to  say  mass,  no  faithful  to  hear 
it!  Already  there  was  a  vast  chasm  in  the  Roman 
sanctuary,  a  deep  silence,  as  on  the  field  of  battle, 
where  none  but  the  dead  are  lying. 

In  the  evening  it  was  the  custom  for  the  canons  to 
chant  vespers  with  great  pomp.  The  organist  was  at 
his  post,  but  no  one  else  appeared.  The  poor  man  left 
thus  alone,  beholding  with  sorrow  the  fall  of  that  wor- 
ship by  which  he  gained  his  bread,  gave  utterance  to 
his  grief  by  plajdng  a  mourning-hymn  instead  of  the 
majestic  3Ia(jnijicat :  "  Oh,  wretched  Judas,  what  hast 
thou  done,  that  thou  hast  thus  betrayed  oui-  Lord?" 
After  this  sad  farewell,  he  rose  and  went  out.  Almost 
immediately,  some  men,  excited  by  the  passions  of  the 
moment,  fell  upon  his  beloved  organ,  an  accomplice,  in 
their  eyes,  of  so  many  superstitious  rites,  and  their 
violent  hands  broke  it  to  pieces.  No  more  mass,  no 
more  organ,  no  more  anthems!  A  new  Supper  and 
new  hymns  shall  succeed  the  rites  of  Popery. 

On  the  next  day  there  was  the  same  silence.  Sud- 
denl}',  however,  a  band  of  men,  with  loud  voices  and 
hasty  step,  was  heard.  It  was  the  Butchers'  Company 
that,  at  this  moment  so  fatal  to  Rome,  desired  to  sup- 
port it.  They  advanced,  carrying  small  fir-trees  and 
green  branches  for  the  decoration  of  their  chapel. 
In  the  midst  of  them  was  a  foreign  priest,  behind  whom 
walked  a  few  poor  scholars.  The  priest  otRciated;  the 
sweet  voices  of  the  scholars  supplied  the  place  of  the 
mute  organ,  and  the  butchers  retired  proud  of  their 
victory. 

The  discussion  was  drawing  to  a  close;  the  comba- 
tants had  dealt  vigorous  blows.  Burgauer,  pastor  of 
St.  Gall,  had  maintained  the  real  presence  in  the  host; 
but  on  the  19th  January,  he  declared  himself  convinced 
by  the  reasonings  of  Zwingle,  CEcolampadius,  and 
Bucer;  and  Matthias,  minister  of  Saengeu,  had  done 
the  same. 

A  conference  in  Latin  afterwards  took  place  between 
Farel  and  a  Parisian  doctor.  The  latter  advanced  a 
strange  argument.  "Christians,"  said  he,  "are  en- 
joined to  obey  the  devil;  for  it  is  said,  Submit  unto 
thine  adversary,  (Matt.  v.  25 ;)  now  our  adversary  is  the 
devil.  How  much  more,  then,  should  we  submit  to  the 
Church!"  Loud  bursts  of  laughter  greeted  this  re- 
markable syllogism.  A  discussion  with  the  Anabap- 
tists terminated  the  conference. 

The  two  councils  decreed  that  the  mass  should  be 

1  Bullingcr  says,  on  the  contrary,  that  tho  council  positively  forbade  the 
mass.  But  Bullinger,  who  is  a  very  animated  writer,  is  not  always  exact  in 
diplomatic  matters.  The  council  would  not  have  come  to  such  a  resolution 
before  the  close  of  the  discussion.  Other  contemporary  historians  and  offi- 
cial documents  leave  no  room  for  doubt  on  this  point  Stettler,  in  his 
Chronicle,  pars  ii.  6,  ad  annum  152S,  details  these  proceedings  as  in  the  text. 


abolished,  and  that  every  one  might  remove  from  the 
churches  the  ornaments  he  had  placed  there. 

Immediately  twenty-five  altars  and  a  great  number 
of  images  were  destroyed  in  the  cathedral,  yet  ^^^tIlOut 
disorder  or  bloodshed;  and  the  children  began  to  sing 
in  the  streets  (as  Luther  informs  us:) 

By  tho  word  at  length  wo  're  saved 
From  a  god  in  a  mortar  brayed. 

The  hearts  of  the  adherents  of  the  Papacy  were 
filled  with  bitterness  as  they  heard  the  objects  of  their 
adoration  fall  one  after  another.  "  Should  any  man," 
said  John  Schneider,  "  take  away  the  altar  of  the 
Butchers'  Company,  I  will  take  away  his  life."  Peter 
Thorman  compared  the  cathedral  stripped  of  its  orna- 
ments to  a  stable.  "When  the  good  folks  of  the 
Oberland  come  to  market,"  added  he,  "they  will  be 
happy  to  put  up  their  cattle  in  it."  And  John  Zehender, 
member  of  the  Great  Council,  to  shew  the  little  value 
he  set  on  such  a  place  of  worship,  entered  it  riding  on 
an  ass,  insulting  and  cursing  the  Reform.  A  Bernese, 
who  chanced  to  be  there,  having  said  to  him,  "  It  is  by 
God's  will  that  these  images  have  been  pulled  down," 
— "Say  rather  by  the  devil's,"  replied  Zehender; 
"  when  have  you  ever  been  with  God  so  as  to  learn 
His  will  ?  "  He  was  fined  twenty  livres,  and  expelled 
from  the  council.  "What  times!  what  manners!" 
exclaimed  many  Romanists ;  "  what  culpable  neglect ! 
How  easy  would  it  have  been  to  prevent  so  great 
a  misfortune !  Oh !  if  our  bishops  had  only  been  will- 
ing to  occupy  themselves  more  with  learning  and  a 
little  less  with  their  mistresses !" 

This  Reform  was  necessary.  When  Christianity  in 
the  fourth  century  had  seen  the  favour  of  princes 
succeed  to  persecution,  a  crowd  of  heathens,  rushing 
into  the  Church,  had  brought  with  them  the  images, 
pomps,  statues,  and  demigods  of  Paganism,  and  a  like- 
ness of  the  mysteries  of  Greece  and  Asia,  and  above 
all,  of  Egypt,  had  banished  the  Word  of  Jesus  Christ 
from  the  Christian  oratories.  This  Word  returning  in 
the  sixteenth  century,  a  purification  must  necessarily 
take  place ;  but  it  could  not  be  done  without  grievous 
rents. 

The  departure  of  the  strangers  was  drawing  near. 
On  the  28th  January,  the  day  after  that  on  which  the 
images  and  altars  had  been  thrown  down,  while  their 
piled  fragments  still  encumbered  here  and  there  the 
porches  and  aisles  of  the  cathedral,  Zwingle,  crossing 
these  eloquent  ruins,  once  more  ascended  the  pulpit  in 
the  midst  of  an  immense  crowd.  In  great  emotion, 
directing  his  eyes  by  turns  on  these  fragments  and 
on  the  people,  he  said :  "  Victory  has  declared  for 
the  truth,  but  perseverance  alone  can  complete  the 
triumph.  Christ  persevered  even  until  death.  Ferendo 
vincitur  fortima.  Cornelius  Scipio,  after  the  disaster  at 
Cannre,  having  learnt  that  the  generals  surviving  the 
slaughter  meditated  quitting  Italy,  entered  the  senate- 
house,  although  not  yet  of  senatorial  age,  and  drawing 
his  sword,  constrained  the  affrighted  chiefs  to  swear 
that  they  would  not  abandon  Rome.  Citizens  of 
Berne,  to  you  I  address  the  same  demand, — do  not 
abandon  Jesus  Christ." 

We  may  easily  imagine  the  effect  produced  on  the 
people  by  such  words,  pronounced  with  Zwingle's 
energetic  eloquence. 

2k 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


ThcD,  turnin.ac  towards  the  fragments  that  lay  near 
Lrai:  "Behold,"  said  he,  "behold  these  idols!  Be- 
hold them  conquered,  mute,  and  shattered  before  us ! 
These  corpses  must  bo  dragged  to  the  shambles,  and 
the  gold  you  have  spent  upon  such  foolish  images  must 
henceforward  be  devoted  to  comforting  in  their  misery 
the  living  images  of  God.  Feeble  souls,  ye  shed  teai-s 
over  these  sad  idols ;  do  ye  not  see  that  they  break, 
do  ye  not  hear  that  they  crack  like  any  other  wood,  or 
like  any  other  stone  ?  Look  !  here  is  one  deprived  of 
its  head.  .  .  .  (Zwiugle  pointed  to  the  image, 
and  all  the  people  fixed  their  eyes  upon  it;)  here  is 
another  maimed  of  its  arms.  If  this  ill-usage  had 
done  any  harm  to  the  saints  that  are  in  heaven,  and  if 
they  had  the  power  ascribed  to  them,  would  you  have 
been  able,  I  pray,  to  cut  off  their  arms  and  their 
heads  f ' 

"Now,  then,"  said  the  powerful  orator  in  con- 
clusion, "stand  fast  in  the  liberty  wherewith  Christ 
has  made  you  free,  and  be  not  entangled  again  with 
the  yoke  of  bondage,  (Gal.  v.  1.)  Fear  not!  That 
God  who  has  enlightened  you,  will  enlighten  your  con- 
federates also ;  and  Switzerland,  regenerated  by  the 
Holy  Ghost,  shall  flourish  iu  righteousness  and  peace." 

The  words  of  Zwingle  were  not  lost.  The  mercy 
of  God  called  forth  that  of  man.  Some  persons  con- 
demned to  die  for  sedition,  were  pardoned,  and  all  the 
exiles  were  recalled.  "  Shoidd  we  not  have  done  so," 
said  the  council,  "  had  a  great  prince  visited  us  1 
Shall  we  not  much  more  do  so,  now  that  the  King  of 
kings  and  the  Redeemer  of  our  souls  has  made  His 
entry  among  us,  bearing  an  everlasting  amnesty?" 

The  Romish  cantons,  exasperated  at  the  result  of 
the  discussion,  sought  to  harass  the  return  of  the 
doctors.  On  arriving  before  Bremgarten,  they  found 
the  gates  closed.  The  bailiff  Schutz,  who  had  accom- 
panied them  with  two  hundred  men-at-arms,  placed 
two  halberdiers  before  Zwingle's  horse,  two  behind 
him,  and  one  on  each  side ;  then  putting  himself  at  the 
Reformer's  left  hand,  while  the  burgomaster  Roust 
stationed  himself  on  the  right,  he  ordered  the  escort  to 
proceed,  lance  in  rest.  The  avoyers  of  the  town  being 
intimidated,  came  to  a  parley;  the  gates  were  opened; 
the  escort  traversed  Bremgarten  amidst  an  immense 
crowd,  and  on  the  1st  February  reached  Zurich  with- 
out accident,  which  Zwingle  re-entered,  says  Luther, 
like  a  conqueror. 

The  Roman  Catholic  party  did  not  dissemble  the 
check  they  had  received.  "  Our  cause  is  falling,"  said 
the  friends  of  Rome.  "  Oh !  that  we  had  had  men 
skilled  in  the  Bible!  The  impetuosity  of  Zmngle 
supported  our  adversaries ;  his  ardour  was  never  re- 
laxed. That  brute  has  more  knowledge  than  was 
imagined.  Alas  I  alas !  the  greater  party  has  van- 
quished the  better." 

The  Council  of  Berne,  desirous  of  separating  from 
the  pope,  relied  upon  the  people.  On  the  30th  January, 
messengers  going  from  house  to  house  convoked  the 
citizens;  and  on  the  2d  February,  the  burgesses  and 
inhabitants,  masters  and  servants,  uniting  in  the  cathe- 
dral, and  forming  but  one  family,  with  hands  upraised 
to  heaven,  swore  to  defend  the  two  councils  in  all  they 
should  undertake  for  the  good  of  the  State  or  of  the 
Church. 


On  the  7th  February,  1528,  the  council  published  a 
general  edict  of  Reform,  and  "  threw  for  ever  from  the 
necks  of  the  Bernese  the  yoke  of  the  four  bishops, 
who,"  said  they,  "  know  well  how  to  shear  their  sheep, 
but  not  how  to  feed  them." 

At  the  same  time  the  reformed  doctrines  were  spread- 
ing among  the  people.  In  every  quarter  might  be  heard 
earnest  and  keen  dialogues,  written  in  rhyme  by  Manuel, 
in  which  the  pale  and  expiring  mass,  stretched  on  her 
death-bed,  was  loudly  calling  for  all  her  physicians, 
and  finding  their  advice  useless,  at  length  dictating 
with  a  broken  voice  her  last  will  and  testament,  which 
the  people  received  with  loud  bursts  of  laughter. 

The  Reformation  generally,  and  that  of  Berne  in 
particular,  has  been  reproached  as  being  brought  about 
by  political  motives.  But,  on  the  contrary,  Berne, 
which  of  all  the  Helvetic  states  was  the  greatest 
favourite  of  the  court  of  Rome — which  had  in  its 
canton  neither  a  bishop  to  dismiss,  nor  a  powerful 
clergy  to  humiliate — Berne,  whose  most  influential 
families,  the  Weingartens,  Manuels,  Mays,  were  reluc- 
tant to  sacrifice  the  pay  and  the  service  of  the  foreigner, 
and  all  whose  traditions  were  conservative,  ought  to 
have  opposed  the  movement.  The  Word  of  God  was 
the  power  that  overcame  this  political  tendency. 

At  Berne,  as  elsewhere,  it  was  neither  a  learned,  nor 
a  democratic,  nor  a  sectarian  spirit  that  gave  birth  to 
the  Reformation.  Undoubtedly,  the  men  of  letters, 
the  liberals,  the  sectarian  enthusiasts,  rushed  into  the 
great  struggle  of  the  sixteenth  century;  but  the  dura- 
tion of  the  Reform  would  not  have  been  long  had  it 
received  its  life  from  them.  The  primitive  strength  of 
Christianity,  reviving  after  ages  of  long  and  complete 
prostration,  was  the  creative  principle  of  the  Reforma- 
tion ;  and  it  was  erelong  seen  separating  distinctly  from 
the  false  alhes  that  had  presented  themselves,  rejecting 
an  incredulous  learning  by  elevating  the  study  of  the 
Classics,  checking  all  demagogic  anarchy  by  upholding 
the  principles  of  true  liberty,  and  repudiating  the 
enthusiastic  sects  by  consecratiug  the  rights  of  the 
Word  and  of  the  Christian  people. 

But  while  wo  maintain  that  the  Reformation  was  at 
Berne,  as  elsewhere,  a  truly  Christian  work,  we  are 
far  from  saying  that  it  was  not  useful  to  the  canton  in 
a  political  sense.  All  the  European  states  that  have 
embraced  the  Reformation  have  been  elevated,  while 
those  which  have  combated  it  have  been  lowered. 


CHAPTER  HL 

The  Reform  Accepted  by  the  People— Faith,  Purity,  and  Charity— First 
E^'angelical  Communion — Bernese  Proposition  to  the  Diet — Cavern, 
and  Head  of  Beatus— Threatening  Storm  from  the  Mountains— Revolt- 
Confusion  in  Berne— Unterwalden  crosses  the  Brums- Energy  of  Berne 
—Victory— Political  Advantages. 

It  now  became  a  question  of  propagating  throughout 
all  the  canton  the  Reform  accomplished  in  the  city. 
On  the  17th  February,  the  council  invited  the  rural 
parishes  to  assemble  on  the  followiug  Sunday  to  receive 
ftucl  deliberate  upon   a   commuuication.     The  whole 


FIRST  EVANGELICAL  COMMUNION. 


Church,  according  to  the  ancient  usage  of  Christen- 
dom, was  about  to  decide  for  itself  on  its  dearest 
interests. 

The  assemblies  were  crowded;  all  conditions  and 
ages  were  jn-esent.  Beside  tiie  hoary  and  the  trem- 
bling head  of  the  aged  man  might  be  seen  the  sparkling 
eye  of  the  youthful  herdsman.  The  messengers  of  the 
council  first  read  the  edict  of  the  Reformation.  They 
next  proclaimed  that  those  who  accepted  it  should 
remain,  and  that  those  who  rejected  it  should  with- 
draw. 

Almost  all  the  assembled  parishioners  remained  in 
their  places.  An  immense  majority  of  the  people 
chose  the  Bible.  In  some  few  parishes  this  decision 
was  accompanied  with  energetic  demonstrations.  At 
Arberg,  Zofingcn,  Brugg,  Aran,  and  Buren,  the 
images  were  burnt.  "At  Stauffberg,"  it  was  said, 
"idols  were  seen  carrying  idols,  and  throwing  one 
another  into  the  flames."' 

The  images  and  the  mass  had  disappeared  from  this 
vast  canton.  "A  great  cry  resounded  far  and  wide," 
writes  BuUingcr.  In  one  day  Rome  had  fallen  through- 
out the  country,  without  treachery,  violence,  or  seduc- 
tion, by  the  strength  of  truth  alone.  In  some  places, 
however,  in  the  Hasli,  at  Frutigen,  Unterseen,  and 
Grindewald,  the  malcontents  were  heard  to  say:  "If 
they  abolish  the  mass,  they  should  also  abolish  tithes." 
Tiio  Roman  form  of  worship  was  preserved  in  the 
Upper  Simmentlial,  a  proof  that  there  was  no  compul- 
sion on  the  part  of  the  state. 

The  wishes  of  the  canton  being  thus  manifested, 
Berne  completed  the  Reformation.  All  excesses  in 
gambling,  drinking,  and  dancing,  and  all  imbecoming 
dress,  were  forbidden  by  proclamation.  The  houses 
of  ill-fame  were  destroyed,  and  their  wretched  inhabi- 
tants expelled  from  the  city.  A  consistory  was  ap- 
pointed to  watch  over  the  public  morals. 

Seven  days  after  the  edict,  the  poor  were  received 
into  the  Dominican  cloister,  and  a  little  later  the  con- 
vent of  the  Island  was  changed  into  an  hospital ;  the 
princely  monastery  of  Konigsfleld  was  .nlso  devoted  to 
the  same  useful  purpose.  Cliarity  followed  everywhere 
in  the  steps  of  faith.  "  Wc  will  shew,"  said  the  coun- 
cil, "  that  we  do  not  use  the  property  of  the  convents 
to  our  own  advantage;"  and  they  kept  their  word. 
The  poor  were  clothed  with  the  priests'  garments ;  the 
orphans  decorated  with  the  ornaments  of  the  church. 
So  strict  were  they  in  these  distributions,  that  the  state 
\vas  forced  to  borrow  money  to  pay  the  annuities  of 
the  monks  and  nuns ;  and  for  eight  days  there  was  not 
a  crowu  in  the  public  treasury.  Thus  it  was  that  the 
State,  as  it  has  been  continually  asserted,  gi-ew  rich 
with  the  spoils  of  the  Church!  At  the  same  time 
they  invited  from  Zurich  the  ministers  Hofmeistcr, 
Megander,  and  Rhellican,  to  spread  throughout  the 
canton  the  knowledge  of  the  Classics  and  of  the  Holy 
Scriptures. 

At  Easter  the  Lord's  Supper  was  celebrated  for  the 
first  time  according  to  the  evangelical  rites.  The  two 
councils  and  all  the  people,  with  few  exceptions,  par- 

1  A  man  whoso  business  it  was  to  shear  tlic  flocks,  and  who  liad  been  iiiok- 
nnmeil  GotMcheiw,  (idol-shearer,)  had  made  himself  very  distinguislieil 
among  those  who  carried  the  images  to  tlio  fire.  Such  w.is  the  orisin  of  litis 
popqlar  legend,  and  it  is  the  key  to  many  others. 


took  of  it.  Strangers  were  struck  with  the  solemnity 
of  this  first  communion.  The  citizens  of  Berne  and 
their  wives,  dressed  in  decent  garments,  which  re- 
called the  ancient  Swiss  simplicity,  approached  Christ's 
table  with  gravity  and  fervour ;  the  heads  of  the  state 
shewed  the  same  holy  devotion  as  the  people,  and  piously 
received  the  bread  from  the  hands  of  Beilhold  Ilaller. 
Each  one  felt  that  the  Lord  was  among  them.  Thus, 
Hofmeistcr,  charmed  at  this  solemn  service,  exclaimed: 
"  How  can  the  adversaries  of  the  AVord  refuse  to  em- 
brace the  truth  at  last,  seeing  that  God  himself  renders 
it  so  striking  a  testimony!" 

Yet  everything  was  not  changed.  The  friends  of 
the  Gospel  witnessed  with  pain  the  sons  of  the  chief 
families  of  the  republic  parading  the  streets  in  costly 
garments,  inhabiting  sumptuous  houses  in  the  city, 
dwelling  in  magnificent  mansions  in  the  country — true 
seignorial  abodes,  following  the  chase  with  hound  and 
horn,  sitting  down  to  luxurious  banquets,  conversing  in 
licentious  language,  or  talking  with  enthusiasm  of 
foreign  wars  and  of  the  French  party.  "Ah,"  said 
the  pious  people,  "  could  we  but  see  old  Switzerland 
revive  with  its  ancient  virtues  1 " 

There  was  soon  a  powerful  reaction.  The  annual 
renewal  of  the  magistracy  being  about  to  take  place, 
the  councillor  Butschelbach,  a  violent  adversary  of  the 
Gospel,  was  ejected  for  adultery:  fom-  other  senators 
and  twenty  members  of  the  Great  Council  were  also 
replaced  by  friends  of  the  Reformation  and  of  public 
morality.  Emboldened  by  this  victory,  the  Evangelical 
Bernese  proposed  in  the  diet  that  every  Swiss  should 
renounce  foreign  service.  At  these  words  the  warriors 
of  Lucerne  started  under  their  weighty  armour,  and 
replied  with  a  haughty  smile :  "  When  you  have  re- 
turned to  the  ancient  faith  we  will  listen  to  your 
homilies."  All  the  members  of  the  government,  as- 
sembled at  Berne  in  sovereign  couucil,  resolved  to  set 
the  example,  and  solemnly  abjured  the  pay  of  foreign 
princes.  Thus  the  Reformation  shewed  its  faith  by  its 
works. 

Another  struggle  took  place.  Above  the  lake  of 
Thun  rises  a  chain  of  steep  rocks,  in  the  midst  of 
which  is  situated  a  deep  cavern,  where,  if  we  may 
believe  tradition,  the  pious  Breton,  Beatus,  came  in 
ancient  times  to  devote  himself  to  all  the  austerities  of 
an  ascetic  life ;  but  especially  to  the  conversion  of  the 
surrounding  district  that  was  still  heathen.  It  was 
affirmed  that  the  head  of  this  saint,  who  had  died  in 
Gaul,  was  preserved  in  this  cavern ;  and  hence  pilgrims 
resorted  thither  from  every  quarter.  The  pious  citizens 
of  Zug,  Schwytz,  Uri,  and  Argovia,  groaned,  as  they 
thought  that  the  holy  head  of  the  apostle  of  Switzer- 
land would  hereafter  remain  in  a  land  of  heretics.  The 
abbot  of  the  celebrated  convent  of  Muri,  in  Argovia, 
and  some  of  his  friends  set  out,  as  in  ancient  times  the 
Argonauts  went  in  quest  of  the  golden  fleece.  They 
arrived  in  the  humble  guise  of  poor  pilgrims,  and 
entered  the  cavern  ;  one  skilfully  took  away  the  head, 
another  placed  it  mysteriously  in  his  hood,  and  they 
disappeared.  The  head  of  a  dead  man ! — and  this  was 
all  that  Rome  saved  from  the  ship^vreck.  But  even 
this  conquest  was  more  than  doubtful.  The  Bernese, 
wiio  had  gained  information  of  the  procession,  sent 
lliiec  deputies  on  the  18th  May,  who,  according  to 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


their  report,  found  this  famous  head,  and  caused  it  to 
be  decently  interred  before  their  eyes  in  the  cemetery 
belonging  to  the  convent  of  Interlakeu.  This  contest 
about  a  skull  characterizes  the  Church  that  had  just 
given  way  in  Berne  before  the  vivifying  breath  of  the 
Gospel.     Let  the  dead  bun/  their  dead. 

The  Reformation  had  triumphed  in  Berne;  but  a 
storm  was  gathering  unperceived  in  the  mountains, 
which  threatened  to  overthrow  it.  The  State,  in  union 
with  the  Church,  recalled  its  ancient  renown.  Seeing 
itself  attacked  by  arms,  it  took  up  arms  in  its  turn, 
and  acted  with  that  decision  which  had  formerly  saved 
Eome  in  similar  dangers. 


TT.^' 


A  secret  discontent  was  fermenting  among  the  people 
of  the  valleys  and  mountains.  Some  were  still  attached 
to  the  ancient  faith ;  others  had  only  quitted  the  mass 
because  they  thought  they  would  be  exempted  from 
tithes.  Ancient  ties  of  neighbourhood,  a  common 
origin,  and  similarity  of  manners,  had  united  the  in- 
habitants of  the  Obwald  (Unterwalden)  to  those  of  the 
Hasli  and  of  the  Bernese  Oberland,  which  were  sepa- 
rated only  by  Mount  Bruuig  and  the  high  pass  of  the 


^l^Ks 


Yoke.  A  rumour  had  been  set  afloat  that  the  govern- 
ment of  Berne  had  profaned  the  spot  where  the  precious 
remains  of  Beatus,  the  apostle  of  these  mountains,  were 
preserved,  and  indignation  immediately  filled  these 
pastoral  people,  who  adhere  firmer  than  others  to  the 
customs  and  superstitions  of  their  forefathers. 

But  while  some  were  excited  by  attachment  to  Eome, 
others  were  aroused  by  a  desire  for  liberty.  The  sub- 
jects of  the  monastery  of  Interlaken,  oppressed  by  the 
monkish  rule,  began  to  cry  out :  "  We  desire  to  become 
our  own  masters,  and  no  longer  pay  rent  or  tithes." 
The  provost  of  the  convent,  in  affright,  ceded  all  his 
rights  to  Berne  for  the  sum  of  one  hundred  thousand 
florins ;  and  a  bailiff,  accompanied 
by  several  councillors,  went  and  took 
possession  of  the  monastery.  A  re- 
port was  soon  spread  that  they  were 
about  to  transfer  all  the  property  of 
the  convent  to  Berne;  and  on  the 
21st  April,  bands  of  men  from  Grin- 
delwald,  Lauterbrunnea,  Ringelberg, 
Brienz,  and  other  places,  crossed  the 
lake,  or  issued  from  their  lofty  val- 
leys, and  taking  forcil)le  possession 
of  the  cloister,  swore  they  would  go 
even  to  Berne  in  quest  of  the  goods 
which  the  citizens  had  dared  to  take 
from  them. 

They  were  quieted  for  a  time ;  but 
in  the  beginning  of  June,  the  people, 
at  the  instigation  of  Unterwalden, 
again  arose  in  all  the  Hasli.  The 
Landsgemeinde,^  having  been  con- 
voked, it  decided,  by  a  majority  of 
forty  voices,  for  the  re-establishment  j 
^  of  the  mass.     The  pastor  Jaiikli  was 

immediately  expelled;  a  few  men 
crossed  the  Brunig,  and  brought 
back  some  priests  from  Unterwalden,  to  the  sound  of 
fifes  and  trumpets.  They  were  seen  from  afar  de- 
scending the  mountain,  and  shouts,  both  loud  and  long, 
replied  to  them  from  the  bottom  of  the  valley.  At 
last  they  arrived : — all  embraced  one  another,  and  the 
people  celebrated  the  mass  anew  with  great  demonstra- 
tions of  joy.  At  the  same  time,  the  people  of  Fruti- 
gen  and  of  the  fertile  valley  of  Adelboden  assailed  the 
castellan  Reuter,  carried  off  his  flocks,  and  established 
a  Roman  Catholic  priest  in  the  place  of  their  pastor. 
At  Aeschi  even  the  women  took  up  arms,  drove  out 
the  pastor  from  the  church,  and  brought  back  the 
images  in  triumph.  The  revolt  spread  from  hamlet  to 
hamlet,  and  from  valley  to  valley,  and  again  took  pos- 
session of  Interlaken.  All  the  malcontents  assembled 
there  on  the  22d  October,  and  swore,  with  hands  up- 
raised to  heaven,  boldly  to  defend  their  rights  and 
liberty. 

The  republic  was  in  great  danger.  All  the  kings  of 
Europe,  and  almost  all  the  cantons  of  Switzerland, 
were  opposed  to  the  Gospel.  The  report  of  an  army 
from  Austria,  destined  to  interpose  in  favour  of  the 
pope,  spread  through  the  reformed  cantons.  Seditious 
meetings  took  place  every  day,  and  the  people  refused 
to  pay  their  magistrates  either  quit-rent,  service,  tithes, 
J  The  assembly  of  all  the  people. 


CONFUSION  IN  BEENE. 


or  even  obedience,  unless  they  shut  their  eyes  to  the 
designs  of  the  Roman  Catholics.  The  council  became 
confused.  Amazed  and  confounded,  exposed  to  the 
mistrust  of  some,  and  to  the  insults  of  others,  tliey  had 
the  cowardice  to  separate  under  the  pretext  of  gather- 
ing the  \iiu;iu  ■.  ail. I.  I'MMin-  tU.lr  anas  in  the  presence 


With  rage  our  foes  tlicir  hateful  threats  denounce, 
Uccausc,  O  Lord,  wo  lovo  Theo  best  of  all ; 


wi^m 


of  this  great  danger,  they  waited  until  a  Messiah  should 
descend  from  heaven  (says  a  reformer)  to  save  the  re- 
public. The  ministers  pointed  out  the  danger,  fore- 
warned and  conjured  them ;  but  they  all  turned  a  deaf 
ear.     "  Christ  languishes  in  Berne,"  said  Ilallcr,  "  and 


m 


appears  nigh  perishing."  The  people  were  in  commo- 
tion :  they  assembled,  made  speeches,  murmured,  and 
shed  tears !  Everywhere — iu  all  their  tumultuous  meet- 
ings— might  be  heard  this  complaint  of  Manuel  on 
Papists  and  the  Papacy: 


Berne  was  like  a  troubled  sea,  and  Haller,  who  lis- 
tened to  the  roaring  of  the  waves,  wrote  in  the  deepest. 
anguish:  '"Wisdom  has  forsaken  the  wise,  counsel  has 
departed  from  the  councillors,  and  energy  fi-om  the 
chiefs  and  from  the  people.  The  number  of  the  sedi- 
tious augments  every  day.  Alas !  what  cau  the  Bear, 
oppressed  with  sleep,  oppose  to  so  many  and  to  such 
turdy  hunters?  If  Christ  withdi-aw  himself,  we  shall 
11  I  Lribh 

I  liese  fears  were  on  the  point  of  being  realized. 
1  m  iller  cantons  claimed  to  have  the  power  of  in- 
knng  in   matters  of  faith   without  infringing  the 

I  I  I  il  compact.     While  six  hundred  men  of  Uri  kept 

I I  uselves  ready  to  depart,  eight  hundred  men  of 
I  iiturwalden,    bearing    pine-branches    in    their   hats, 

>mbols  of  the  old  faith,  with  haughty  heads,  with 
gloomy  and  threatening  looks,  crossed  the  Brunig 
under  the  ancient  banner  of  the  country,  which  was 
borne  by  Ga^piid  de  Flue,  a  \(.rj  uu^\orth)  giandson 


of  the  great  Nicholas.  This  was  the  first  violation  of 
the  national  peace  for  many  a  year.  Uniting  at  Hasli 
with  the  men  of  Brienz,  this  little  army  crossed  the 
lake,  passed  under  the  civscadcs  of  Giesbach,  and 
arrived  at  Unterseen,  thirteea  hundred  strong    and 


HISTORY  OF  THE  KEFORMATION. 


ready  to  marcli  on  Berne  to  re-establish  the  pope, 
the  idols,  and  the  mass,  in  that  rebellious  city.  In 
Switzerland,  as  in  Germany,  the  Reformation,  at  its 
outset,  met  ivith  a  peasant  v;ar.  At  the  first  success 
new  combatants  would  arrive  and  pour  through  the 
passes  of  the  Brunig  upon  the  unfaithful  republic. 
The  army  was  only  six  leagues  from  Berne,  and 
already  the  sous  of  Uuterwalden  were  proudly  brand- 
ishing their  swords  on  the  banks  of  the  lake  of  Thun. 

Thus  -were  the  federal  alliances  trodden  under  foot 
by  those  very  persons  who  aspired  to  the  name  of  con- 
servatives. Berne  had  the  right  to  repel  this  criminal 
attack  by  force.  Suddenly  calling  to  mind  her  ancient 
virtues,  the  city  roused  herself,  and  vowed  to  perish 
rather  than  tolerate  the  intervention  of  Unterwalden, 
the  restoration  of  the  mass,  and  the  fiery  violence  of 
the  peasants.  There  was  at  that  moment  in  the  hearts 
of  the  Bernese  one  of  those  inspirations  that  come  from 
above,  and  which  save  nations  as  well  as  individuals. 
'■  Let  the  strength  of  the  city  of  Berne,"  exclaimed  the 
avoyer  d'Erlacb,  "  be  in  God  alone,  and  in  the  loyalty 
of  its  people."  All  the  council  aud  the  whole  body  of 
the  citizens  replied  by  noisy  acclamatious.  The  great 
banner  was  hastily  brought  forth,  the  townspeople  ran 
to  arms,  the  companies  assembled,  and  the  troops  of 
the  republic  marched  out  with  the  valiant  avoyer  at 
their  head. 

Scarcely  had  the  Bernese  government  acted  thus 
energetically,  before  it  saw  the  confidence  of  its  friends 
increase,  and  the  courage  of  its  adversaries  diminish. 
God  never  abandons  a  people  who  are  true  to  them- 
selves. Many  of  the  Oberlanders  became  intimidated, 
and  deserted  the  ranks  of  the  revolt.  At  the  same 
time  deputies  from  Biile  and  Lucerne  represented  to 
Unterwalden  that  it  was  trampling  the  ancient  alli- 
ances under  foot.  The  rebels,  disheartened  by  the 
firmness  of  the  republic,  abandoned  Unterseen,  and 
retired  to  the  convent  of  Interlaken.  And  soon  after, 
when  they  beheld  the  decision  of  their  adversaries, 
distressed  besides  by  the  cold  rains  that  fell  inces- 
santly, and  fearing  that  the  snow,  by  covering  the 
mountains,  would  prevent  their  return  to  their  homes, 
the  men  of  Unterwalden  evacuated  Interlaken  during 
the  night.  The  Bernese,  to  the  number  of  five  thou- 
sand men,  entered  it  immediately,  and  summoned  the 
inhabitants  of  the  Hasli  and  of  the  bailiwick  of  Inter- 
laken to  assemble,  on  the  4th  November,  in  tlie  plain 
that  surrounds  the  convent.'  The  day  beiug  arrived, 
the  Bernese  army  drev,'  up  in  order  of  battle,  and  then 
formed  a  circle,  within  which  D'Erlach  ordered  the 
peasauts  to  enter.  Hardly  had  he  placed  the  rebels  on 
the  left,  aud  the  loyal  citizens  on  the  right,  before  the 
muskets  and  artillery  fired  a  general  discharge,  whose 
report,  re-echoing  among  the  mountains,  filled  the  in- 
surgents with  terror.  They  thought  it  the  signal  of 
their  death.  But  the  avoyer  only  intended  to  shew 
that  they  were  m  the  power  of  the  republic.  D'Erlach, 
who  addressed  them  immediately  after  this  strange 
exordium,  had  not  finished  his  speech,  before  they  all 
fell  on  their  knees,  and,  confessing  their  crime,  begged 
for  pardon.  The  republic  was  satisfied :  the  rebellion 
was  over.     The  banners  of  the  district  were  carried  to 

1  Tiaditiou  Siiys  that  it  waa  on  tlie  spot  where  tlic  hotel  of  luteilaken  non- 


Berne,  and  the  Eagle  of  Interlaken  in  union  with  the 
Wild-goat  of  Hasli,  hung  for  a  time  beneath  the  Bear, 
as  a  trophy  of  this  victory.  Four  of  the  chiefs  were 
put  to  death,  and  an  amnesty  was  granted  to  the  re- 
mainder of  the  rebels.  "The  Bernese,"  said  Zwingle, 
"as  Alexander  of  Macedou  in  times  of  old,  have  cut 
the  Gordiau  knot  with  courage  and  with  glory."  Thus 
thought  the  reformer  of  Zurich;  but  experience  was 
one  day  to  teach  him,  that  to  cut  such  knots  is  re- 
quired a  different  sword  from  that  of  Alexander  and  of 
D'Erlach.  However  that  may  be,  peace  was  restored, 
and  in  the  valleys  of  the  Hasli  no  other  noise  was  heard 
than  the  sublime  tumult  borne  afar  by  the  Reichen- 
bach  and  the  surrounding  torrents,  as  they  pour  from 
the  mountain-tops  their  multitudinous  and  foaming 
waters. 

While  we  repudiate,  on  behalf  of  the  Church,  the 
swords  of  the  Helvetic  bands,  it  would  be  unwise  not 
to  acknowledge  the  political  advantages  of  this  victory. 
The  nobles  had  imagined  that  the  Reformation  of  the 
Church  would  endanger  the  very  existence  of  the  State. 
They  now  had  a  proof  to  the  contrary:  they  saw  that 
when  a  nation  receives  the  Gospel,  its  strength  is 
doubled.  The  generous  confidence  with  which,  in  the 
hour  of  danger,  they  had  placed  some  of  the  adversaries 
of  the  Reformation  at  the  head  of  affairs  and  of  the 
army,  produced  the  happiest  results.  All  were  now 
convinced  that  the  Reformation  would  not  trample  old 
recollections  under  foot;  prejudices  were  removed, 
hatred  was  appeased,  the  Gospel  gradually  rallied  all 
hearts  around  it,  and  then  was  verified  the  ancient  and 
remarkable  saying,  so  often  repeated  by  the  friends  and 
enemies  of  that  powerful  republic :  "  God  is  become  a 
citizen  of  Berne." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Eefoiiuatiou  of  St.  Gall— Nuus  of  St.  Catheriue— Reformation  of  Glaiis, 
Btrnc,  Appenzell,  the  Grisons,  Schaffhausen,  ami  the  Rhine  District— 
A  P"iiish  Miracle— Obstacles  in  Bale— Zeal  of  the  Citizens— CEcolam- 
pailius  Marries— Witticism  of  Erasmus— First  Action— Half  Measures— 
Pctiti-uoftheEcformeiL 

The  Reformation  of  Berne  was  decisive  for  several 
cantons.  The  same  wind  that  had  blown  from  on  high 
with  so  much  power  on  the  country  of  De  Watteville 
and  Haller,  threw  down  "  the  idols  "  in  a  great  part  of 
Switzerland.  In  many  places  the  people  were  indig- 
nant at  seeing  the  Reformation  checked  by  the  timid 
prudence  of  diplomatists ;  but  when  diplomacy  was  put 
to  flight  at  Berne,  the  torrent,  so  long  restrained,  poured 
violently  onwards. 

Vadian,  burgomaster  of  St.  Gall,  who  presided  at 
the  Bernese  disputation,  had  scarcely  returned  home, 
when  the  citizens,  with  the  authority  of  the  magistrates, 
removed  the  images  from  the  church  of  St.  Magnus, 
carried  to  the  mint  a  hand  of  the  patron  saint  in  silvei-, 
with  other  articles  of  plate,  aud  distributed  among  the 
poor  the  money  they  received  in  exchange ;  thus,  like 
Mary,  pouring  their  precious  ointment  on  the  head  of 
Christ.  The  people  of  St.  Gall,  being  curious  to  un- 
veil the  ancient  mysteries,  laid  their  hands  on  the  abbey 


EEFORMATION  OF  CLARIS,  WESEIC,  APPENZELL,  THE  GEISONS,  SCHAFFHAUSEN. 


itself,  on  the  shrines  and  crosses  which  had  so  long 
been  presented  to  their  adoration;  but  instead  of  saintly 
relics,  they  found,  to  their  great  surprise,  nothing  but 
some  resin,  a  few  pieces  of  money,  several  paltry  wooden 
images,  some  old  rags,  a  skull,  a  large  tooth,  and  a 
snail's  shell !  Rome,  instead  of  that  noble  fall  which 
marks  the  ends  of  great  characters,  sunk  in  the  midst 
of  stupid  superstitions,  shameful  frauds,  and  the  ii-ouical 
laughter  of  a  whole  nation. 

Such  discoveries  unfortunately  excited  the  passions 
of  tlic  multitude.  One  evening  some  evil-disposed 
persons,  wishing  to  alarm  the  poor  nuns  of  St.  Cathe- 
rine, who  had  obstinately  resisted  the  Reform,  siu-- 
rounded  the  convent  with  loud  cries.  In  vain  did 
the  nuns  barricade  the  doors:  the  walls  were  soon 
scaled,  and  the  good  wine,  meat,  confcctionarics,  and 
all  the  far  from  ascetic  delicacies  of  the  cloister,  be- 
came the  prey  of  these  rude  jesters.  Another  persecu- 
tion awaited  them.  Doctor  Schappeler  having  been 
appointed  their  catechist,  they  were  recommended  to  lay 
aside  their  monastic  dress,  and  to  attend  his  heretical 
sermons  "clothed  like  all  the  world,"  said  the  sister 
AViborath.  Some  of  them  embraced  the  Reform,  but 
thirty  others  preferred  exile.  On  the  5th  February, 
1528,  a  numerous  synod  framed  the  constitution  of  the 
church  of  St.  Gall. 

The  struggle  was  more  violent  at  Glaris.  The  seeds 
of  the  Gospel  truth,  which  Zwingle  had  scattered  there, 
prospered  but  little.  The  men  in  power  anxiously  re- 
jected every  innovation,  and  the  people  loved  bettor 
"  to  leap  and  dance,  and  work  miracles,  glass  in  hand" 
as  an  old  chronicle  says,  "than  to  busy  themselves 
about  the  Gospel."  The  Landsgemeinde  having  pro- 
nounced, on  the  15th  May,  1528,  in  favour  of  the 
mass  by  a  majority  of  thirty-three  voices,  the  two 
parties  were  marked  out  with  greater  distinctness  :  the 
images  were  broken  at  Matt,  Elm,  and  Bettschwanden, 
and  as  each  man  remained  aloof  in  his  own  house  and 
village,  there  was  no  longer  in  the  canton  either  council 
of  state  or  tribunal  of  justice.  At  Schwanden,  the 
minister,  Peter  Rumelin,  having  invited  the  Roman 
Catholics  to  a  disputation  with  him  in  the  church,  the 
latter,  instead  of  discussing,  marched  in  procession  to 
the  sound  of  drums  round  the  place  of  worship  in  which 
the  Reformed  were  assembled,  and  then  rushing  into 
the  pastor's  house,  which  was  situated  in  the  middle  of 
the  city,  destroyed  the  stoves  and  the  windows :  the 
irritated  Reformed  took  theii-  revenge,  and  broke  the 
images.  On  the  15th  April,  1529,  an  agreement  was 
concluded,  by  virtue  of  which  every  man  was  free  to 
choose  between  the  mass  and  the  sermon. 

At  "Wesen,  where  Schwytz  exercised  sovereignty  con- 
jointly with  Glaris,  the  deputies  of  the  former  canton 
threatened  the  people.  Upon  this  the  young  men  took 
the  images  out  of  the  churches,  carried  them  to  an 
open  place  near  the  banks  of  the  picturesque  lake  of 
Wallenstadt,  above  which  soar  the  mountains  of  the 
Amnion  and  of  the  Seven  Electors,  and  cried  :  "Look  ! 
this  road  (that  by  the  lake)  leads  to  Coire  and  to  Rome  ; 
that  (to  the  south)  to  Glaris ;  this  other  (to  the  west) 
to  Schwytz;  and  the  fourth  (by  the  Ammon)  to  St. 
Gall.  Take  which  you  please!  But  if  you  do  not 
move  off,  you  shall  be  burnt!"  After  waiting  a  few 
moments,   these   young  people  flung   the   motionless 


images  into  the  fire,  and  the  Schwytz  deputies,  eye- 
witnesses of  this  execution,  withdrew  in  consternation, 
and  filled  the  whole  canton  with  projects  of  vengeance 
that  were  but  too  soon  realized. 

In  the  canton  of  Appenzell,  where  a  conference  had 
been  opened,  iherj  suddenly  appeared  a  band  of  Roman 
Catholics,  armed  with  whips  and  clubs,  and  crying  out : 
"Where  are  these  preachers?  we  are  resolved  to  put 
them  out  of  the  village."  These  strange  doctors 
wounded  the  ministers  and  dispersed  the  assembly  with 
their  whips.  Out  of  the  eight  parishes  of  the  canton, 
six  embraced  the  Reform,  and  Appenzell  became 
linally  divided  into  two  little  sections,  the  one  Romanist 
and  the  other  Reformed. 

In  the  Grisons  religious  liberty  was  proclaimed ;  the 
parishes  had  the  election  of  their  pastors,  several 
castles  were  razed  to  the  ground  to  render  all  return  to 
arbitrary  government  impossible,  and  the  affrighted 
bishop  went  and  hid  in  the  Tyrol  his  anger  and  his 
desire  for  vengeance.  "  The  Grisons,"  said  Zwingle, 
"advance  daily.  It  is  a  nation  that  by  its  courage 
reminds  us  of  the  ancient  Tuscans,  and  by  its  candour 
of  the  ancient  Swiss." 

Schaffhausen,  after  having  long  "halted  between  two 
opinions,"  at  the  summons  of  Zurich  and  of  Berue 
removed  the  images  from  its  churches  without  tumult 
or  disorder.  At  the  same  time  the  Reformation  invaded 
Thurgovia,  the  valley  of  the  Rhine,  and  other  baili- 
wicks subordinate  to  these  cantons.  In  vaiu  did  the 
Roman  Catholic  cantons,  that  were  in  the  majority, 
protest  against  it.  "  When  temporal  affairs  are  con- 
cerned," replied  Zurich  and  Berne,  "we  will  not  oppose 
a  plurality  of  votes ;  but  the  Word  of  God  cannot  be 
subjected  to  the  suffrages  of  men."  All  the  districts 
that  lie  along  the  banks  of  Thur,  of  the  lake  of  Con- 
stance, and  of  the  upper  Rhine,  embraced  the  Gospel. 
The  inhabitants  of  Mammeren,  near  the  place  where 
the  Rhine  issues  from  the  lake,  flung  their  images  into 
the  water.  But  the  statue  of  St.  Blaise,  after  remain- 
ing some  time  upright,  and  contemplating  the  ungrate- 
ful spot  whence  it  was  banished,  swam  across  the  lake 
to  Catahorn,  situated  on  the  opposite  shore,  if  we  may 
believe  the  account  of  a  monk  named  Lang.  Even 
while  running  away.  Popery  worked  its  miracles. 

Thus  were  the  popular  superstitions  overthrown 
in  Switzerland,  and  sometimes  not  without  violence. 
Every  great  development  in  human  affairs  brings  with 
it  an  energetic  opposition  to  that  which  has  existed. 
It  necessarily  contains  an  aggressive  element,  which 
ought  to  act  freely,  and  by  that  means  opens  the  new 
path.  In  the  times  of  the  Reformation  the  doctors 
attacked  the  pope,  and  the  people  the  images.  The 
movement  almost  always  exceedod  a  just  moderation. 
In  order  that  human  nature  may  make  one  step  ia 
advance,  its  pioneers  must  take  many.  Every  super- 
fluous step  should  be  condemned,  and  yet  we  must 
acknowledge  their  necessity.  Let  us  not  forget  this  in 
the  history  of  the  Reformation,  aud  especially  in  that 
of  Switzerland.  Zurich  w.is  reformed ;  Berne  had  just 
become  so :  Bale  stiU  remained,  before  the  great  cities 
of  the  Confederation  were  gained  over  to  the  evangeli- 
cal faith.  The  reformation  of  this  learned  city  was 
the  most  important  consequence  resulting  from  that  of 
the  warlike  Berne. 


HISTOKY  OP  THE  REFORMATION. 


For  six  years  the  Gospel  had  been  preached  in  Bale. 
The  meek  and  pious  Qiicolampadius  was  always  wait- 
ing for  happier  times.  "  The  darkness,"  said  he,  "  is 
about  to  retu-e  before  the  rays  of  truth."  But  his  ex- 
pectation was  vain.  A  triple  aristocracy — the  superior 
clergy,  the  nobles,  and  the  university — checked  the  free 
expansion  of  Christian  convictions.  It  was  the  middle 
classes  who  were  destined  to  effect  the  triumph  of  the 
Reformation  in  Bale.  Unhappily  the  popular  wave  in- 
vades nothing  without  tossing  up  some  foul  scum. 


It  is  true  that  the  Gospel  had  many  friends  in  the 
councils ;  but  being  men  of  a  middle  party,  they  tacked 
backwards  and  forwards,  like  Erasmus,  instead  of  sail- 
ing straight  to  the  port.  They  ordered  "the  pure 
preaching  of  the  Word  of  God ; "  but  stipulated,  at  the 
same  time,  that  it  should  be  "without  Lutheranism." 
The  ased  ind  piuus  Bi-.Ii()p  UtcnlKini,  ■who  'w  i    li\  iii_' 


^"^^ 


in  retirement  at  Bruntrut,  tottered  daily  into  the  church, 
supported  by  two  domestics,  to  celebrate  mass  with  a 
broken  voice.  Gundelsheim,  an  enemy  of  the  Refor- 
mation, succeeded  him  erelong ;  and  on  the  23d  Sep-  | 
tember,  followed  by  many  exiles,  aud  with  a  train  of 
forty  horses,  he  made  his  triumphal  entry  into  Biile, 
proposing  to  restore  everything  to  its  ancient  footing. 
This  made  CEcolampadius  write  in  alarm  to  Zwingle  : 
"  Our  cause  hangs  upon  a  thread." 


But  in  the  citizens  the  Reform  found  a  compensa- 
tion for  the  disdain  of  the  great,  and  for  the  terrors 
inspired  by  the  new  bishop.  They  organized  repasts 
for  fifty  and  a  hundred  guests  each :  Qicolampadius 
and  his  colleagues  took  their  seats  at  these  tables  with 
the  people,  where  energetic  acclamations  and  reiterated 
cheers  greeted  the  work  of  the  Reformation.  In  a 
short  time  even  the  council  appeared  to  incline  to 
the  side  of  the  Gospel.  Twenty  feast-days  were  re- 
trenched, and  the  priests  were  permitted  to  refuse 
celebrating  the  mass.  "It  is  all  over  with  Rome," 
was  now  the  cry.  But  Qilcolampadius,  shaking  his 
head,  replied:  "I  am  afraid  that,  by  wishing  to  sit  on 
two  >t.„,l~,  V,-<h-  will  at  last  fall  to  the  ground." 

This  was  at  the  period 
5^  of  his  return  from  the 

.     iliscussion  at  Berne.    He 
arrived  in  time  to  close 
.  ilm:    eyes    of   his    pious 
iiintlier;    and   then    the 
I'rf (inner  found  himself 
:il(.iiie,  succumbing  under 
I     ^^  eight  of  public  and 
1  Kstic  cares;    for  his 
1  e  was   like   an  inn 
1    all  fugitive   Christ- 
1  ins      "  I  shall  marry  a 
"\IunKa,"'he  had  often 
ud,  "  or  else  I  shall  re- 
in un  a  bachelor."      He 
thought  he  had  now  dis- 
(o\cied  the  "Christian 
ftister  "  of  whom  he  was 
in    search.      This    was 
Wihbiandis,  daughter  of 
one     of     the     Emperor 
Maximilian's       knights. 


m. 


i  Tho  ) 


t  of  St.  Augustiiie'a 


FIRST  ACTION— HALF-MEASUEES. 


503 


and  widow  of  a  master  of  arts  named  Keller, — a  woman 
already  proved  by  many  trials.  He  married  her,  say- 
ing: "I  look  to  the  ordinances  of  God,  and  not  to  the 
scowling  faces  of  men."  This  did  not  i)revent  the  sly 
Erasmus  from  exclaiming:  "Luther's  affair  is  called  a 
tragedy,  but  I  maintain  it  is  a  comedy,  for  each  act  of 
the  drama  ends  in  a  wedding."  This  witticism  has 
been  often  repeated.  For  a  long  time  it  was  the 
fashion  to  account  for  the  Reformation  by  the  desire 
of  the  princes  for  the  Church  property,  and  of  the 
priests  for  marriage.  This  vulgar  method  is  now 
stigiiiatized  by  the  best  Roman  controversialists  as  "  a 
proof  of  a  singularly  narrow  mind.  The  Reformation 
originated,"  add  they,  "in  a  true  and  Christian,  al- 
though unenlightened  zeal." 

The  return  of  ODcolampadius  had  still  more  impor- 
tant consequences  for  Brde  than  it  had  for  himself. 
The  discussion  at  Berne  caused  a  great  sensation  there. 
"Berne,  the  powerful  Berne,  is  reforming!"  was 
passed  from  mouth  to  mouth.  "  How,  then  !"  said  the 
people  one  to  another,  "the  fierce  boar  has  come  out 
of  his  den     ,     .  he  is  gi-oping  about  for  the  ra}s 

of  the  sun  .  .  .  and  Bale,  the  city  of  learning — 
Bide,  the  adopted  city  of  Erasmus  and  of  CEcolam- 
padius,  remains  in  darkness ! " 

On  Good  Friday,  (10th  April,  1528,)  without  the 
knowledge  of  the  council  aud  OScolampadius,  five 
workmen  of  the  Spinners'  Company  entered  the  church 
of  St.  Martin,  which  was  that  of  the  reformer,  and 
where  the  mass  was  already  abolished,  and  carried 
away  all  the  "  idols."  On  Easter  Monday,  after  the 
evening  sermon,  thirty-four  citizens  removed  all  the 
images  from  the  church  of  the  Augustines. 

This  was  going  too  far.  Were  they  desirous,  then, 
of  drawing  Bale  aud  its  councils  from  that  just  medium 
in  whicli  they  had  till  this  moment  so  wisely  halted .' 
The  council  met  hastily  on  Tuesday  moruiug,  aud  sent 
the  five  men  to  prison  ;  but,  on  the  intercession  of  the 
burghers,  they  were  released,  and  the  images  suppresscil 
in  five  other  churches.  These  half-measures  sufficed 
for  a  time. 

On  a  sudden  the  flame  burst  out  anew  with  gi-eate:- 
violence.  Sermons  were  preached  at  St.  Martin's  and 
St.  Leonard's  against  the  abominations  of  the  cathc- 
di-al ;  and  at  the  cathedral  the  reformers  were  called 
"  heretics,  knaves,  and  profligates."  The  Papists  cele- 
brated mass  upon  mass.  The  burgomaster  Meyer,  a 
friend  of  the  Reform,  had  with  him  the  majority  of  the 
people  ;  the  burgomaster  Meltinger,  an  intrepid  leader 
of  the  partisans  of  Rome,  prevailed  in  the  councils :  a 
collision  became  inevitable.  "The  fatal  hour  ap- 
proaches," says  a:colampadius,  "terrible  for  the 
enemies  of  God!" 

On  Wednesday,  the  SSd  December,  two  days  before 
Christmas,  three  hundred  citizens  from  all  the  com- 
panies, pious  and  worthy  men,  assembled  in  the  hall  of 
the  Gardeners'  Company,  and  there  drew  np  a  petition 
to  the  senate.  Duriug  this  time  the  friends  of  Popery, 
who  resided  for  the  most  part  in  Little  Bale  and  the 
suburb  of  St.  Paul,  took  up  arras,  and  brandished  their 
swords  and  lances  against  the  reformed  citizens  at  the 
very  moment  that  the  latter  were  bearing  their  petition 
to  the  council,  and  endeavoured,  although  ineffectually, 
to  bar  their  road.    Meltinger  haughtily  refused  to  re- 


ceive the  petition,  and  charged  the  burghei-s,  on  the 
faith  of  their  civic  oath,  to  return  to  their  homes.  The 
burgomaster  Meyer,  however,  took  the  address,  and 
the  senate  ordered  it  to  be  read. 

"  Honoured,  wise,  and  gracious  Lords,"  it  ran,  "  we, 
your  dutiful  fellow-citizens  of  the  companies,  address 
you  as  well-beloved  fathers,  whom  we  are  ready  to 
obey  at  the  cost  of  our  goods  and  of  our  lives.  'Take 
God's  glory  to  heart;  restore  peace  to  the  city;  and 
oblige  all  the  pope's  preachers  to  discuss  freely  with 
the  ministers  If  the  mass  be  true,  we  desire  to  have 
it  in  our  churches :  but  if  it  is  an  abomination  before 
God,  why,  through  love  for  the  priests,  should  we  draw 
down  His  terrible  auger  upon  ourselves  and  upon  our 
children?" 


CATHEDRAL.     STRASBURG. 

Thus  spoke  the  citizens  of  Bale.  There  was  nothing 
revolutionary  either  in  their  language  or  in  their  pro- 
ceedings. They  desired  what  was  right  with  decision, 
but  also  with  calmness.  All  might  still  proceed  with 
order  and  decorum.  But  here  begins  a  new  period : 
the  vessel  of  reform  is  about  to  enter  the  port,  but  not 
until  it  has  passed  through  violent  storms. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


CHAPTER  V. 

Crisis  in  Bale— Half-Measures  Rejected— Eeformed  Propositions— A  Night 
of  Terror— Idols  Broken  in  the  Cathedral— The  Hour  of  Madness— Idols 
Broken  in  all  the  Churches— Befonn  Legalized— Erasmus  in  Bale— A 
Great  Transformation — Revolution  and  Reformation. 

The  bishop's  partisans  first  departed  from  the  legal 
course.  Filled  with  terror  on  learning  that  mediators 
were  expected  from  Zurich  and  Berne,  they  ran  into 
the  city,  crying  that  an  Austrian  army  was  coming  to 
their  aid,  and  collected  stones  in  their  houses.  The 
reformed  did  the  same.  The  disturbance  increased 
hourly,  and  in  the  night  of  the  25th  December  the 
Papists  met  imder  arms:  priests,  with  arquebuse  in 
Land,  were  numbered  among  their  ranks. 

Scarcely  had  the  reformed  learnt  this,  when  some  of 
them,  running  hastily  from  house  to  house,  knocked  at 
the  doors  and  awoke  their  friends,  who,  starting  out 
of  bed,  seized  their  muskets  and  repaired  to  the  Gar- 
deners' Hall,  the  rendezvous  of  their  party.  They  soon 
amounted  to  three  thousand. 

Both  parties  passed  the  night  under  arms.  At  every 
moment  a  civil  war,  and  what  is  worse,  "  a  war  of 
hearths,"  might  break  out.  It  was  at  last  agi-eed  that 
each  party  should  nominate  delegates  to  treat  with  the 
senate  on  this  matter.  The  reformed  chose  thirty  men 
of  respectability,  courage,  faith,  and  experience,  who 
took  up  their  quarters  at  the  Gardeners'  Hall.  The 
partisans  of  the  ancient  faith  chose  also  a  commission, 
but  less  numerous  and  less  respectable  r  their  station 
was  at  the  Fishmongers'  Hall.  The  council  was  con- 
stantly sitting.  All  the  gates  of  the  city,  except  two, 
were  closed ;  strong  guards  were  posted  in  every  quar- 
ter. Deputies  from  Lucerne,  Uri,  Schaffhausen,  Zug, 
Schwytz,  Mulhausen,  and  Strasburg,  arrived  succes- 
sively. The  agitation  and  tumult  increased  from  hour 
to  hour. 

It  was  necessary  to  put  an  end  to  so  violent  a  crisis. 
The  senate,  faithful  to  its  ideas  of  half-measures,  decreed 
that  the  priests  should  continue  to  celebrate  the  mass ; 
but  that  all,  priests  and  ministers,  should  preach  the 
Word  of  God,  and  for  this  purpose  should  meet  once 
a-week  to  confer  upon  the  Holy  Scriptures.  They 
theu  called  the  Lutherans  together  in  the  Franciscan 
church,  and  the  Papists  in  that  belonging  to  the  Do- 
minicans. The  senate  first  repaired  to  the  former 
church,  where  they  found  two  thousand  five  hundred 
citizens  assembled.  The  secretary  had  hardly  read  the 
ordinance  before  a  great  agitation  arose.  "  That  shall 
not  be,"  cried  one  of  the  people.  "  We  will  not  put  up 
with  the  mass,  not  even  a  single  one ! "  exclaimed  an- 
other; and  all  repeated,  "No  mass — no  mass — we  will 
die  sooner!" 

The  senate  having  next  visited  the  Dominican  church, 
all  the  Romanists,  to  the  number  of  six  hundred,  among 
whom  were  many  foreign  servants,  cried  out:  "AVe 
are  ready  to  sacrifice  oiu-  lives  for  the  mass.  We 
swear  it,  we  swear  it ! "  repeated  they  with  uplifted 
hands.     "  If  they  reject  the  mass — to  arms  !  to  arms  1" 

The  senate  withdrew  more  embarrassed  than  ever. 

The  two  parties  were  again  assembled  three  days 
after.     CEcolampadius  was  iu  the  pulpit.     "  Be  meek 


and  tractable,"  said  he;  and  he  preached  with  such 
unction  that  many  were  ready  to  burst  into  tears.  The 
assembly  offered  up  prayers,  and  then  decreed  that  it 
would  accept  a  new  ordinance,  by  virtue  of  which, 
fifteen  days  after  Pentecost,  there  should  be  a  public 
disputation,  in  which  no  arguments  should  be  employed 
but  such  as  were  drawn  from  the  Word  of  God :  after 
this  a  general  vote  should  take  place  upon  the  mass, 
that  the  majority  should  decide  the  question,  and  that 
iu  the  meanwhile  the  mass  should  be  celebrated  in 
three  churches  only;  it  being  however  understood,  that 
nothing  should  be  taught  there  that  was  in  opposition 
to  the  Holy  Scriptures. 

The  Romanist  minority  rejected  these  propositions . 
"  Bale,"  said  they,  "  is  not  like  Berne  and  Zurich.  Its 
revenues  are  derived,  in  great  measure,  from  countries 
opposed  to  the  Reformation !"  The  priests  having  re- 
fused to  resort  to  the  weekly  conferences,  they  were 
suspended;  and  during  a  fortnight  there  was  neither 
sermon  nor  mass  at  the  cathedral,  or  in  the  churches 
of  St.  Ulrich,  St.  Peter,  and  St.  Theodore. 

Those  who  remained  faithful  to  Rome  resolved  upon 
an  intrepid  defence.  Meltiuger  placed  Sebastian  Mul- 
ler  in  the  pulpit  at  St.  Peter's,  from  which  he  had 
been  interdicted,  and  this  hot-headed  priest  vented  such 
abusive  sarcasms  against  the  Reform,  that  several  of 
the  Evangelicals,  who  were  listening  to  the  sermon, 
were  insulted  and  nearly  torn  in  pieces. 

It  was  necessary  to  arouse  B;de  from  this  nightmare, 
and  strike  a  decisive  blow.  "Let  us  remember  our 
liberty,"  said  the  reformed  citizens,  "and  what  we 
owe  to  the  glory  of  Christ,  to  public  justice,  and  to 
our  posterity."  They  then  demanded  that  the  enemies 
of  the  Reformation,  friends  and  relations  of  the  priests, 
who  were  the  cause  of  all  these  delays  and  of  all  these 
troubles,  should  no  longer  sit  in  the  councils  until  peace 
was  re-established.  This  was  the  8th  February.  The 
council  notified  that  they  would  return  an  answer  on 
the  morrow. 

At  six  o'clock  in  the  evening,  twelve  hundred  citi- 
zens were  assembled  in  the  corn-market.  They  began 
to  fear  that  the  delay  required  by  the  senate  concealed 
some  evil  design.  "  AVe  must  have  a  reply  this  very 
night,"  they  said.  The  senate  was  convoked  in  great 
haste. 

From  that  period  affairs  assumed  a  more  threatening 
attitude  in  Brde.  Strong  guards  were  posted  by  the 
burghers  in  the  halls  of  the  different  guilds ;  armed 
men  patrolled  the  city,  and  bivouacked  in  the  public 
places,  to  anticipate  the  machinations  of  their  adver- 
saries;  the  chains  were  stretched  across  the  streets; 
torches  were  lighted,  and  resinous  trees,  whose  flicker- 
ing light  scattered  the  darkness,  were  placed  at  inter- 
vals through  the  town;  six  pieces  of  artillery  were 
planted  before  the  town-hall ;  and  the  gates  of  tiie  city, 
as  well  as  the  arsenal  and  the  ramparts,  were  occupied. 
B;"de  was  in  a  state  of  siege. 

There  was  no  longer  any  hope  for  the  Romish  party. 
The  burgomaster  Meltinger,  an  intrepid  soldier,  and 
one  of  the  heroes  of  Mariguan,  where  he  had  led  eight 
hundred  men  into  battle,  lost  courage.  In  the  dark- 
ness he  gained  the  banks  of  the  Rhine  with  his  son- 
in-law,  the  councillor  Eglof  d'Offenburgh,  embarked 
unnoticed  in  a  small  boat,  and  rapidly  descended  the 


DESTRUCTION  OF  THE  IDOLS. 


507 


stream  amid  the  fogs  of  the  night.  Other  members  of 
the  coimcil  escaped  ia  a  similar  manner. 

Tliis  gave  rise  to  new  alarms.  '-Let  us  beware  of 
their  secret  maureuvrcs,"  said  the  peoi)lc.  "  Perhaps 
they  are  gone  to  fetch  tlie  Aiistriaus,  with  whom  they 
have  so  often  threatened  us  !"  The  alTrightcd  citizens 
collected  ar)n3  from  every  quarter,  and  at  break  of  day 
they  had  two  thousand  mcu  on  foot.  The  beams  of 
the  rising  sun  fell  on  this  resolute  but  calm  assembly. 

It  was  mid-day.  The  senate  had  come  to  no  decision : 
the  impatience  of  the  burghers  could  be  restrained  no 
longer.  Forty  men  were  detached  to  visit  the  posts. 
As  this  patrol  was  passing  the  cathedral,  they  entered 
it,  and  one  of  the  citizens,  impelled  by  curiosity,  opened 
a  closet  with  his  halberd,  in  which  some  images  had 
been  hidden.  One  of  them  fell  out,  and  was  broken 
into  a  thousand  pieces  against  the  stone  pavement. 
The  sight  of  these  fragments  powerfully  moved  the 
spectators,  who  began  throwing  down  one  after  another 
all  the  images  that  were  concealed  in  this  place.  None 
of  them  offered  any  resistance :  heads,  feet,  and  hands, 
all  were  heaped  in  confusion  before  the  halberdiers. 
"  I  am  much  surprised,"  said  Erasmus,  "  that  they 
performed  no  miracle  to  save  themselves ;  formerly  tlie 
saints  worked  frequent  prodigies  for  much  smaller 
offences."  Some  priests  ran  to  the  spot,  and  the  patrol 
withdrew. 

A  rumour,  however,  having  spread  that  a  disturb- 
ance had  taken  place  in  this  church,  three  hundred 
men  came  to  the  support  of  the  forty.  "  Why,"  said 
they,  "should  we  spare  the  idols  that  light  up  the 
tiames  of  discord  ?"  The  priests,  in  alarm,  had  closed 
the  gates  of  the  sanctuary,  drawn  the  bolts,  raised 
barricades,  and  prepared  everything  for  maintaining  a 
siege.  But  the  townspeople,  whose  patience  had  been 
exhausted  by  the  delays  of  the  council,  dashed  against 
one  of  the  doors  of  the  church ;  it  yielded  to  their 
blows,  and  they  rushed  into  the  cathedral.  The  hour 
of  madness  had  arrived.  These  men  were  no  longer 
recognisable,  as  they  brandished  their  swords,  rattled 
their  pikes,  and  uttered  formidable  cries :  were  they 
Goths,  or  fervent  worshippers  of  God,  animated  by 
the  zeal  which  in  times  of  yore  inflamed  the  prophets 
and  the  kings  of  Israel?  However  that  may  have 
been,  these  proceedings  were  disorderly,  since  public 
authority  alone  can  interfere  in  public  reforms.  Images, 
altars,  pictures — all  were  thrown  down  and  destroyed. 
The  priests  who  had  fled  into  the  vestry,  and  there 
concealed  themselves,  trembled  in  every  limb  at  the 
terrible  noise  made  by  the  fall  of  their  holy  decora- 
tions. The  work  of  destruction  was  completed  with- 
out one  of  them  venturing  to  save  the  objects  of  his 
worship,  or  to  make  the  slightest  remonstrance.  The 
people  next  piled  up  the  fragments  in  the  squares  and 
set  fire  to  them  ;  and  during  the  chilly  night  the  armed 
burghers  stood  round  and  warmed  themselves  at  the 
crackling  flame. 

The  senate  collected  in  amazement,  and  desired  to 
interpose  their  authority  and  appease  the  tumult ;  but 
they  might  as  well  have  striven  to  command  the  winds. 
The  enthusiastic  citizens  replied  to  their  magistrates  in 
these  haughty  words :  "  What  you  have  not  been  able 
to  effect  in  three  years,  we  will  complete  in  one  hour." 

In  truth  the  anger  of  the  people  was  no  longer  con- 


fined to  the  cathedral.  They  respected  all  kinds  of 
private  property;  but  they  attacked  the  churches  of 
St.  Peter,  St.  Ulrich,  St.  Alban,  and  of  the  Domini- 
cans ;  and  in  all  these  temples  the  "  idols  "  fell  under 
tlie  blows  of  these  good  citizens  of  Bale,  who  were 
inflamed  by  an  extraordinary  zeal.  Already  they  were 
makuig  preparations  to  cross  the  bridge  and  enter 
Little  Bale,  which  was  devoted  to  the  cause  of  Popery, 
when  the  alarmed  inhabitants  begged  to  be  allowed  to 
remove  the  images  themselves ;  and  with  heavy  hearts 
they  hastily  carried  tliera  into  the  upper  chambers  of 
the  church,  whence  they  hoped  to  be  able,  after  a  time, 
to  restore  them  to  their  old  position. 

They  did  not  stop  at  these  energetic  demonstrations  ; 
the  most  excited  talked  of  going  to  the  town-hall,  and 
of  constraining  the  senate  to  accede  to  the  wishes  of 
the  people  ;  but  the  good  sense  of  the  majority  treated 
these  brawlers  as  they  deserved,  and  checked  their 
guilty  thoughts. 

The  senators  now  perceived  the  necessity  of  giving  a 
legal  character  to  this  popular  movement,  and  of  thus 
changing  a  tumultuous  revolution  into  a  durable  refor- 
mation. Democracy  and  the  Gospel  were  thus  estab- 
lished simultaneously  in  Bale.  The  senate,  after  an 
hour's  deliberation,  granted  that  in  future  the  burghers 
should  participate  in  the  election  of  the  two  councils;  that 
from  this  day  the  mass  and  images  should  be  abolished 
throughout  all  the  cauton ;  and  that  in  every  delibera- 
tion which  concerned  the  glory  of  God  or  the  good  of 
the  state  the  opinion  of  the  guilds  should  be  taken. 
The  people,  delighted  at  having  obtained  these  con- 
ditions, which  secured  their  political  and  religious 
liberty,  returned  joyful  to  their  houses.  It  was  now 
the  close  of  day. 

On  the  morrow.  Ash- Wednesday,  it  was  intended  to 
distribute  the  ruins  of  the  altars  and  other  ornaments 
of  the  church  among  the  poor,  to  serve  them  for  fire- 
wood. But  these  unhappy  creatures,  in  their  eager- 
ness for  the  fragments,  having  begun  to  dispute  about 
them,  great  piles  were  constructed  in  the  cathedral  close 
and  set  on  fire.  "  The  idols,"  said  some  wags,  "  are 
really  keeping  their  Ash- Wednesday  to-day!"  "The 
friends  of  Popery  turned  away  their  horror-stricken 
eyes  from  this  sacrilegious  sight,"  says  G^coiampadius, 
"  and  shed  tears  of  blood."  "Thus  severely  did  they 
treat  the  idols,"  continues  the  reformer,  "  and  the  mass 
died  of  grief  in  consequence."  On  the  following 
Sunday  hymns  in  German  were  sung  at  every  Church ; 
and  on  the  IStli  February  a  general  amnesty  was  pub- 
lished. Everything  was  changed  in  Bale.  The  last 
had  become  first,  and  the  first  last.  While  CEcolam- 
padius,  who  a  few  years  before  had  entered  the  city 
as  a  stranger,  without  resources  and  without  power, 
found  himself  raised  to  the  first  station  in  the  Church, 
Erasmus,  disturbed  in  the  quiet  study  wheuce  during 
so  long  a  period  he  had  issued  his  absolute  commands 
to  the  world  of  letters,  saw  himself  compelled  to  de- 
scend into  the  arena.  But  this  king  of  the  schools  had 
no  desire  to  lay  down  his  sceptre  before  the  sovereign 
people.  For  a  long  time  he  used  to  turn  aside  his  head 
when  he  met  his  friend  CEcolampadius.  Besides,  he 
feared,  by  remaining  at  B;ile,  to  compromise  himself 
with  his  protectors.  "The  ton-ent,"  said  he,  "which 
was  hidden  underground  has  burst  forth  with  violence, 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


and  committed  frightful  ravages.  My  life  is  in  danger : 
CEcolampadius  possesses  all  the  churches.  People  are 
continually  bawling  in  my  ears ;  I  am  besieged  with 
letters,  caricatures,  and  pamphlets.  It  is  all  over:  I 
am  resolved  to  leave  Bale.  Only  shall  I  or  shall  I  not 
depart  by  stealth'      The  one  is   nmrc  becoming,  the 

Otho    .11    1 


confession  of  faith,  one  of  the  most  precious  documents 
of  this  epoch. 

Thus  had  a  great  transformation  been  effected  with- 
out the  loss  of  a  single  drop  of  blood.  Popery  had 
fallen  in  Bale  in  despite  of  the  secular  and  spiritual 


power. 


^n  'f 


CPYPT,    BALE    CATHEDRAL. 

Wishing  as  much  as  possible  to  make  his  honour  and 
his  prudence  agree,  Erasmus  desired  the  boatman  with 
whom  he  was  to  descend  the  Rhine  to  depart  from  an 
unfrequented  spot.  This  was  opposed  by  the  senate, 
and  the  timid  philosopher  was  compelled  to  enter  the 
boat  as  it  lay  near  the  bridge,  at  that  time  covered  with 
a  crowd  of  people.  He  floated  down  the  river,  sadly 
bade  adieu  to  the  city  he  had  so  much  loved,  and  retired 
to  Friburg,  in  Brisgau,  with  several  other  learned  men. 

New  professors  were  invited  to  fill  the  vacant  chairs 
in  the  university,  and  in  particular,  Oswald  Myconius, 
Phrygio,  Sebastian  Mun^ll•r,  and  Synioii  Gryn;vii,-^.  At 
the  same  time  was  i)iilili>luMl  an  (■.•rl.'^ia^liral  onl.a- and 


F  R  I  B  U  R  Q. 


The  wedge  of  the  Lord,"  says  QScolam- 
has  split  this  hard  knot." 

We  cannot,  however,  help  acknowledging 
that  the  Bale  Reformation  may  afford  ground 
for  some  objections.  Luther  had  opposed 
Iiiinself  to  the  power  of  the  many.  "When 
ilio  people  prick  up  their  ears,  do  not  whistle 
loo  loud.  It  is  better  to  suffer  at  the  hand 
<<{  one  tyrant,  that  is  to  say,  of  a  king,  than 
lit'  a  thousand  tyrants,  that  is  to  say,  of  the 
jicople."  On  this  account  the  German  Re- 
former has  been  reproached  for  acknowledg- 
ing no  other  policy  than  servilism. 

Perhaps  when   the   Swiss   Reformation   is 
canvassed,  a  contrary  objection  will  be  made 
against  it,  and  the  Reform  at  Bale  in  par- 
ticular, will  be  looked  upon  as  a  revolution. 
The  Reformation   must  of   necessity  boar 
~       the  stamp  of  the  country  in  which  it  is  ac- 
complished :   it  will  be  monarchical  in  Ger- 
many, republican  in  Switzerland.     Neverthe- 
less, in  religion  as  in  politics,  there  is  a  great 
difference  between  reformation  and  revolution. 

In  no  sphere  does  Christianity  desire  either  despo- 
tism, servitude,  stagnation,  retrogression,  or  doith.  But 
while  looking  for  progress,  it  seeks  to  accomplish  it  by 
reformation,  and  not  by  revolution. 

Reformation  works  by  the  power  of  the  Word,  of 
doctrine,  cultivation,  and  truth ;  while  revolution,  or 
rather  revolt,  operates  by  the  power  of  riot,  of  the 
sword,  and  of  the  club. 

Christianity  proceeds  by  the  inner  man,  and  charters 

themselves,  if  they  stand  alone,  cannot  satisfy  it.     No 

dnulit  piilitical  constitutions  are  one  of  the  blessings  of 

>>m-  au;!^ ;   but  it  is  not  sufficient  for  these  securities  to 

be  committed  to  parchment :  they 

must  be  written  in  the  heart,  and 

guaranteed  by  the  manners  of  the 

people. 

Such   were   the   principles    of 

the  Swiss  Reformers ;  such  were 

those  of  the  Reform  at  Bale,  and 

"         ^'§\   by  these  it  is  distinguished  from 

;.^  a  revolution. 

,;«  There  were,  it  is  true,  some 
;  excesses.  Never,  perhaps,  has  a 
reformation  been  accomplished 
among  men  without  some  mix- 
ture of  revolution.  But  it  was 
doctrines,  however,  that  were  in 
question  at  Bale  :  these  doctrines 
had  acted  powerfully  on  the 
moral  convictions  and  on  the 
lives  of  the  people ;  the  move- 
ment had  taken  place  within 
before  it  shewed  itself  without. 
But  more  than  this :  the  Refor- 
mation was  not  satisfied  with 
taking  away;  it  gave  more  than 


FAREL  AT  LAUSANNE. 


it  took ;  and,  far  from  confining  itself  to  the  work  of 
(lestruotion,  it  scattered  rich  blessings  over  all  the 
people. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Farcl's  Commission— Favel  at  Lausanne  and  Morot— NeuMiatcI— Favcl 
rrcaclies  at  Serriire— Enters  Noufchatel— Sermon— The  Monks— Farel's 
Preaching- Popery  in  Neufchatel— Canons  and  Monlo  Unite— Farel  at 
Jlorat  and  in  the  Vully— Reformation  of  the  Bishopric  of  Bile— Farcl 
again  in  Nenfchatel— Placards— The  Hospital  Cliapel— Civil  Power  In- 
voked by  the  Romanists. 

TnE  recoil  of  the  discussion  at  Berne  had  overthrown 
Popery  in  a  considerable  part  of  German  Switzerland. 
It  was  also  felt  in  many  of  the  churclies  of  French 
Switzerland,  lying  at  the  foot  of  the  Jura,  or  scattered 
amid  the  pine-forests  of  its  elevated  valleys,  and  which, 
up  to  this  time,  had  shewn  the  most  absolute  devotion 
to  the  Roman  pontiff. 

Farel,  seeing  the  Gospel  established  in  the  places 
where  the  Rhone  mingles  its  sandy  waters  with  the 
crystal  Leman,  turned  his  eyes  to  another  quarter.  He 
was  supported  by  Berne.  This  state,  which  possessed 
jointly  with  Friburg  the  bailiwicks  of  Morat,  Orbe, 
and  Granson,  and  which  had  alliances  with  Lausanne, 
Avouches,  Payerue,  Neufchatel,  and  Geneva,  saw  that 
both  its  interest  and  its  duty  alike  called  it  to  have 
the^Gospel  preached  to  its  allies  and  subjects.  Farel 
was  empowered  to  carry  it  among  them,  provided  he 
obtained  the  consent  of  the  respective  governments. 

One  day,  therefore,  journej-ing  towards  Morat,  Farel 
arrived  and  preached  the  Gospel  at  the  foot  of  those 
towers  and  battlements  that  had  been  attacked,  at  three 
different  periods,  by  the  armies  of  Conrad  the  Salic, 
Rodolph  of  Hapsburg,  and  Charles  the  Bold.  Erelong 
the  friends  of  the  Reform  amounted  to  a  great  number. 
A  general  vote  having,  nevertheless,  declared  in  favour 
of  the  pope,  Farel  proceeded  to  Lausanne. 

He  was  at  first  driven  away  by  the  bishop  and  the 
clergy,  but  soon  reappeared  provided  with  a  letter  from 
the  lords  of  Berne.  "  We  send  him  to  you,"  said  their 
excellencies  to  the  authorities  of  the  city,  "  to  defend 
his  own  cause  and  ours.  Allow  him  to  preach  the 
Word  of  God,  and  beware  that  you  touch  not  a  hair  of 
his  head." 

There  was  great  confusion  in  the  councils.  Placed 
between  Berne  and  the  bishop,  what  could  they  do.^ 
Tiie  Council  of  Twenty-four,  finding  the  matter  very 
serious,  convoked  the  Council  of  Sixty;  and  this  body 
excusing  itself,  they  convoked  the  Council  of  Two 
Hundred,  on  the  14th  November,  1529.  But  these  in 
their  turn  referred  the  business  to  the  Smaller  Couucil. 
No  one  would  have  anything  to  do  with  it.  The  iu- 
habitants  of  Lausanne,  it  is  true,  complained  loudly  of 
the  holy  members  of  their  chapters,  whose  lives  (they 
said)  were  one  long  train  of  excesses ;  but  when  their 
eyes  turned  on  the  austere  countenance  of  Reform, 
they  were  still  more  terrified.  Besides,  how  deprive 
Lausanne  of  her  bishop,  her  court,  and  her  dignitaries? 
What!  no  more  pilgrims  in  the  churches, — no  more 
suitors  in  the  ecclesiastical  courts, — no  more  purchasers 


in  the  markets,  or  boon  companions  in  the  taverns ! — 
The  widowed  and  desolate  Lausanne  would  no  longer 
behold  the  noisy  throng  of  people,  that  were  at  once 
her  wealth  and  her  glory! — Better  far  a  disorder  that 
enriches,  than  a  reform  that  impoverishes !  Farel  was 
compelled  to  depart  a  second  time. 

He  returned  to  Morat,  and  soon  the  Word  gained 
over  the  hearts  of  the  people.  On  feast-days,  the  roads 
from  Paycrnc  and  Avenches  were  covered  with  merry 
bands,  who  laughingly  said  to  one  another :  "  Let  us 
go  to  Morat  and  hear  the  preachers ! "  and  exhorted 
each  other  slily,  as  they  went  along  the  road,  "  not  to 
fall  into  the  nets  of  the  heretics."  But  at  night  all  was 
changed.  Grasped  by  the  strong  hand  of  truth,  these 
very  people  returned, — some  in  deep  thought,  others 
discussing  with  animation  the  doctrines  they  had  heard. 
The  fire  was  sparkling  throughout  all  this  district,  and 
spreading  in  every  direction  its  long  rays  of  light. 
This  was  enough  for  Farel :  he  required  new  con- 
quests. 

At  a  short  distance  from  Morat  lay  one  of  the  strong- 
holds of  Popery — the  earldom  of  Neufchatel.  Joan  of 
Hochberg,  who  had  inherited  this  principality  from  her 
ancestors,  had  married,  in  1504,  Louis  of  Orleans,  duke 
of  Longueville.  This  French  nobleman  having  sup- 
ported the  King  of  France,  in  1512,  in  a  war  against 
the  Swiss,  the  cantons  had  taken  possession  of  Neuf- 
chatel, but  had  restored  it  to  his  widow  in  1529. 

Few  countries  could  have  presented  greater  difficul- 
ties to  the  daring  reformer.  The  Princess  of  Longue- 
ville, residing  in  France  in  the  suite  of  Francis  I.,  a 
woman  of  courtly  habits,  vain,  extravagant,  always  in 
debt,  and  thinking  of  Neufchatel  only  as  a  farm  that 
should  bring  her  in  a  large  revenue,  was  devoted  to  the 
pope  and  Popery.  Twelve  canons,  with  several  priests 
and  chaplains,  formed  a  powerful  clergy,  at  whose 
head  was  the  provost  Oliver  of  Hochberg,  natural 
brother  to  the  princess.  Auxiliaries  full  of  zeal  flanked 
this  main  army.  On  the  one  side  there  was  the  abbey 
of  the  Premonstrantes  of  Fontaine-Andre,  three- 
quarters  of  a  league  beyond  the  town,  the  monks  of 
which,  after  having  in  the  12th  century  cleared  the 
ground  with  their  own  hands,  had  gradually  become 
powerful  lords ;  and  on  the  other  side,  the  Benedictines 
of  the  Island  of  St.  John,  whose  abbot,  having  been 
deposed  by  the  Bernese,  had  taken  refuge,  burning 
with  hatred  and  vengeance,  in  his  priory  at  Corcelles. 

The  people  of  Neufchatel  had  a  great  respect  for 
ancient  rights,  and  it  was  easy  to  take  advantage  of 
this  state  of  feeling,  considering  the  general  ignorance, 
to  maintain  the  innovations  of  Popery.  The  canons 
improved  the  opportunity.  For  the  instructions  of  the 
Gospel  they  substituted  pomps  and  shows.  The  church, 
situated  on  a  steep  rock,  was  filled  with  altars,  chapels, 
and  images  of  saints ;  and  religion,  descending  from 
this  sanctuary,  ran  up  and  down  the  streets,  and  was 
travestied  in  dramas  and  mysteries,  mingled  with  in- 
dulgences, miracles,  and  debauchery. 

The  soldiers  of  Neufchatel,  however,  who  had  made 
the  campaign  of  1529  with  the  Bernese  army,  brought 
back  to  their  homes  the  liveliest  enthusiasm  for  the 
evangelical  cause.  It  was  at  this  period  that  a  frail 
boat,  quitting  the  southern  bank  of  the  lake,  on  the 
side  opposite  Morat,  and  carrying  a  Frenchman   of 


510 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFOEISIATION. 


mean  appearance,  steered  towards  the  Neufcliatel  shore. 
Farel — for  it  was  he — had  learnt  that  the  village  of 
Serriere,  situated  at  the  gates  of  Keiifchatel,  depended, 
as  to  spiritualities,  on  the  evangelical  city  of  Bienne, 
and  that  Emer  Beynon,  the  priest  of  the  place,  "  had 
some  liking  for  the  Gospel."  The  plan  of  his  campaign 
was  immediately  drawn  up.  He  appeared  before  par- 
son  Emer,  who  received  him  with  joy;  but  what  could 
be  done  ?  for  Farel  had  been  interdicted  from  preach- 
ing in  an}'  church  whatever  in  the  earldom.  The  poor 
j  priest  thought  to  reconcile  everything  by  permitting 
Farel  to  mount  on  a  stone  in  the  cemetery,  and 
thus  preach  to  the  people,  tm-ning  his  back  upon  the 
church.' 

A  great  disturbance  arose  in  Neufchatel.  On  one 
side  the  government,  the  canons,  and  the  priests,  cried, 
"Heresy!"  but  ou  the  other,  "some  inhabitants  of 
Neufchate!,  to  whom  God  had  given  a  knowledge  of 
the  truth,"  flocked  to  Serriere.  In  a  short  time  these 
last  could  not  contain  themselves  :  "  Come,"  said  they 
to  Farel,  "  and  preach  to  us  in  the  town." 

Tliis  was  at  the  beginning  of  December.  They 
entered  by  the  gate  of  the  castle,  and  leaving  the 
church  on  the  hill  to  the  left,  they  passed  in  front  of 
the  canons'  houses,  and  descended  to  the  narrow  streets 
i  inhabited  by  the  citizens.  On  reaching  the  market- 
cross,  Farel  ascended  a  platform  and  addressed  the 
crowd,  which  gathered  together  from  all  the  neigh- 
bourhood,—  weavers,  vine-dressers,  husbandmen,  a 
worthy  race,  possessing  more  feeling  than  imagina- 
tion. The  preachers  exterior  was  grave,  his  dis- 
course energetic,  his  voice  like  thunder :  his  eyes, 
his  features,  his  gestures,  all  shewed  him  a  man  of 
intrepidity.  The  citizens,  accustomed  to  run  about 
the  streets  after  the  mountebanks,  were  touched  by 
his  powerful  language.  "Farel  preached  a  sermon 
of  such  great  efficacy,"  says  a  manuscript,  "that  he 
gained  over  much  people." 

Some  monks,  however,  with  shaven  crowns,  glided 
among  his  hearers,  seeking  to  excite  them  against  the 
heretical  minister.  "Let  us  beat  out  his  brains,"  said 
some.  "  Duck  him,  duck  him  I"  cried  others,  advanc- 
ing to  throw  Farel  into  a  fountain,  which  may  stiU 
be  seen  near  the  spot  where  he  preached.  But  the 
reformer  stood  firm. 

This  first  preaching  was  succeeded  by  others.  To 
this  Gospel  missionary  every  place  was  a  chm-ch;  every 
stone,  every  bench,  every  platform,  was  a  pulpit.  Al- 
ready the  cutting  winds  and  the  snows  of  December 
should  have  kept  the  Neufchatelans  around  their  fire- 
sides ;  "  the  cauons  made  a  vigorous  defence ;"  and  in 
every  quarter  "the  shorn  crowns"  were  in  agitation, 
supplicating,  menacing,  shouting,  and  threatening — 
but  all  was  useless.  Ko  sooner  did  this  man  of  small 
stature  rise  up  in  any  place,  with  his  pale  yet  sunburnt 
complexion,  with  red  and  uncombed  beard,  with  spark- 
ling eye  and  expressive  mouth,  than  the  monks'  labour 
was  lost :  the  people  collected  around  him,  for  it  was 
the  Word  of  God  that  fell  from  his  lips.  All  eyes 
were  fixed  on  him:  with  open  mouth  aud  attentive 
ears  they  hung  upon  his  words.  And  scarcely  did  he 
begin  to  speak,  when — "  Oh!  wonderful  work  of  God !" 


he  himself  exclaims — "this  multitude  believed  as  if  it 
had  but  one  soul." 

The  Word  of  God  carried  the  town,  as  it  were,  at 
the  first  assault ;  and  throwing  down  the  devices  Rome 
had  taken  ages  to  compose,  established  itself  in  triumph 
on  the  ruins  of  human  traditions.  Farel  saw,  in 
imagination,  Jesus  Christ  himself  walking  in  spirit 
through  the  midst  of  this  crowd,  opening  the  eyes 
of  the  blind,  softening  the  hard  heart,  and  working 
miracles,  ...  so  that  scarcely  had  lie  returned 
to  his  humble  residence  before  he  wrote  to  his  friends 
with  a  heart  full  of  emotion  :  "  Render  thanks  with  me 
to  the  Father  of  mercies,  in  that  He  has  shewn  His 
favour  to  those  bowed  down  by  a  weighty  tyranny;" 
and  falling  on  his  knees,  he  worshipped  God. 

But  during  this  time  what  were  the  adherents  of  the 
pope  doing  in  Neufchatel  ? 

The  canons,  members  of  the  General  Audiences,  of 
which  they  formed  the  first  estate,  treated  both  priests 
and  laymen  with  intolerable  haughtiness.  Laying  the 
burden  of  their  offices  on  poor  curates,  they  publicly 
kept  dissolute  women,  clothed  them  sumptuously,  en- 
dowed their  children  by  public  acts,  fought  in  the 
church,  haunted  the  streets  by  night,  or  went  into  a 
foreign  couutry  to  enjoy  in  secret  the  produce  of  their 
avarice  and  of  their  intrigues.  Some  poor  lepers 
placed  in  a  house  near  the  city  were  maintained  by  the 
produce  of  certain  offerings.  The  rich  canons,  in  the 
midst  of  their  banquets,  dared  take  away  the  bread  of 
charity  from  these  unhappy  wretches. 

The  Abbey  of  Fontaine-Andre  was  at  a  little  dis- 
tance from  the  town.  Now  the  canons  of  Neufchatel 
and  the  monks  of  Fontaine  were  at  open  war.  These 
hostile  powers,  encamped  on  their  two  hills,  disputed 
each  other's  property,  wrested  away  each  other's  privi- 
leges, launched  at  one  another  the  coarsest  insults,  and 
even  came  to  blows.  "  Debaucher  of  women !"  said 
the  canons  to  the  Abbot  of  Fontaine-Andre',  who  re- 
turned the  compliment  in  the  same  coin.  It  is  the 
Reformation  which,  through  faith,  has  re-established 
the  moral  law  in  Christendom — a  law  that  Popery  had 
trodden  under  foot. 

For  a  long  time  these  conventual  wars  had  disturbed 
the  country.  On  a  sudden  they  ceased.  A  strano-e 
event  was  passing  in  Neufchatel — the  Word  of  God 
was  preached  there.  The  canons,  seized  with  affright 
in  the  midst  of  their  disorders,  looked  down  from  their 
lofty  dwellings  on  this  new  movement.  The  report 
reached  Fontaine- Andre.  The  monks  and  priests  sus- 
pended their  orgies  and  their  quarrels.  The  heathen 
sensualism  that  had  invaded  the  Church  was  put  to 
the  rout ;  Christian  spirituahsm  had  re-appeared. 

Immediately  the  monks  and  canons,  so  long  at  war, 
embrace  and  unite  against  the  reformer.  "  We  must 
save  religion,"  said  they,  meaning  their  tithes,  ban- 
quets, scandals,  and  privileges.  Not  one  of  them  could 
oppose  a  doctrine  to  the  doctrine  preached  by  Farel : 
to  insult  him  was  their  sole  weapon.  At  Corcelles, 
however,  they  went  farther.  As  the  minister  was  pro- 
claiming the  Gospel  near  the  priory,  the  monks  fell 
upon  him :  in  the  midst  of  them  was  the  prior  Rodolph 
de  Benoit,  storming,  exciting,  and  striving  to  augment 
the  tempest.  He  even  had  a  dagger  in  his  hand, 
according  to  one  writer.     Farel  escaped  with  difficulty. 


FAREL  IN  MORAT  AND  THE  VULLY. 


511 


This  was  not  enough.  Popery,  as  it  has  always 
done,  had  recourse  to  the  civil  power.  The  canons, 
the  abbot,  and  the  prior,  solicited  the  governor  George 
de  Rive  at  the  same  time.  Farel  stood  firm.  "The 
glory  of  Jesus  Christ,"  said  he,  "  and  the  lively  affec- 
tion His  sheep  bear  to  His  Word,  constrain  me  to  en- 
dure sufferings  greater  tlian  tongue  can  describe."  Ere- 
long, however,  he  was  compelled  to  yield.  Farol  again 
crossed  the  lake ;  but  this  passage  was  very  different 
from  the  former.  The  fire  was  kindled  ! — On  the  22d 
December  he  was  at  Morat ;  and  shortly  after  at  Aigle. 

lie  was  recalled  tiience.  On  the  7tli  January,  reli- 
gion was  put  to  the  vote  at  Morat,  and  the  majority 
was  in  favour  of  the  Gospel.  But  the  Romish  min- 
ority, supported  by  Friburg,  immediately  undertook  to 
recover  its  ancient  position  by  insults  and  bad  treat- 
ment.    "  Farel !  Farel !"  cried  the  reformed  party. 

A  few  days  after  this,  Farel,  accompanied  by  a  Ber- 
nese messenger,  scaled  that  magnificent  amphitheatre 
of  mountains  above  Vevay,  whence  the  eye  plunges 
into  the  waters  of  the  Leman ;  and  soon  he  crossed  the 
estates  of  Count  John  of  Gruyere,  wlio  was  in  the 
habit  of  sayiug,  "We  must  burn  this  French  Luther!" 
Scarcely  had  Farel  reached  the  heights  of  St.  Martin 
de  Vaud,'  when  he  saw  the  vicar  of  the  place  with  two 
priests  runniriu' to  iiicct  him.  "Heretic!  devil !"  cried 
the}'.  ]'>ut  till'  kniuht,  through  fear  of  Berne,  remained 
behind  his  w  alls,  and  Farel  passed  on. 

The  reformer,  not  allowing  himself  to  be  stopped  by 
the  necessity  of  defending  himself  in  Morat,  or  by  the 
inclemency  of  the  season,  immediately  carried  the 
Gospel  to  those  beautiful  hills  that  soar  between  the 
smiling  waters  of  lakes  Morat  and  Neufchatel,  into  the 
villages  of  the  Vully.  Tin's  nianojuvre  was  crowned 
with  the  most  complete  success.  On  the  15tli  Feb- 
ruary, four  deputies  from  the  \'ully  came  to  Morat  to 
demand  permission  to  embrace  the  Reform,  which  was 
immediately  granted  them.  "Let  our  ministers  preach 
the  Gospel,"  said  their  excellencies  of  Berne  to  the 
Friburgers,  "and  we  will  let  your  priests  play  their 
monkey  tricks.  We  desire  to  force  no  man."  The 
Reform  restored  freedom  of  will  to  the  Christian 
people.  It  was  about  this  time  that  Farel  wrote  his 
beautiful  letter  "To  all  lords,  people,  and  pastors," 
which  we  have  so  often  quoted. 

The  indefatigable  reformer  now  went  forward  to  new 
conquests.  A  chain  of  rocks  separates  the  Juran  valley 
of  Erguel,  already  evangelized  by  Farel,  from  the 
country  of  the  ancient  Rauraci,  and  a  passage  cut 
through  the  rock  serves  sis  a  communication  between 
the  two  districts.  It  v;as  the  end  of  April  when  Fare], 
passing  tiirough  the  Pierre-Pertuis,  descended  to  the 
village  of  Tavannes,  and  entered  the  church  just  as  the 
priest  was  saying  mass.  Farel  went  into  the  pulpit : 
the  astonished  priest  stopped, — the  minister  filled  his 
hearers  with  emotion,  and  seemed  to  them  an  angel 
come  down  from  heaven.  Immediately  the  images  and 
the  altars  fell,  and  "  the  poor  priest  who  was  chanting 
the  mass  could  not  finisli  it."  To  put  down  Popery 
had  required  much  less  time  than  the  priest  had  spent 
at  the  altar. 

A  great  part  of  the  bishopric  of  Bale  was  in  a  few 
weeks  gained  over  to  the  Reformation. 

•  To  tlie  left  of  tlie  modem  road  from  Vevay  to  Fiiburg. 


During  this  time  the  Gospel  was  fermenting  in 
Neufchatel.  The  young  men  who  had  marched  with 
Berne  to  deliver  Geneva  from  the  attacks  of  Savoy, 
recounted,  in  their  jovial  meetings,  the  exploits  of  the 
campaign,  and  related  how  the  soldiers  of  Berne,  feel- 
ing cold,  had  taken  the  images  from  the  Domiuicau 
church  at  Geneva,  saying:  "Idols  of  wood  are  of  no 
use  but  to  make  a  fire  with  in  winter." 

Farel  re-appeared  in  Neufchatel.  Being  master  of 
the  lower  part  of  the  town,  he  raised  his  eyes  to  the 
lofty  rocks  on  which  soared  the  cathedral  and  the 
castle.  The  best  plan,  thought  he,  is  to  bring  these 
proud  priests  down  to  us.  One  morning  his  young 
friends  spread  themselves  in  the  streets,  and  posted 
up  large  placards  bearing  these  words  :  '■^  All  those  ii-ho 
sai/  mass  are  robbers,  murderers,  and  seducers  of  the 
people."  Great  was  the  uproar  in  Neufchatel.  The 
canons  summoned  their  people,  called  together  the 
clerks,  and  marching  at  the  head  of  a  large  troop, 
armed  with  swords  and  clubs,  descended  into  the  town, 
tore  down  the  sacrilegious  placards,  and  cited  Farel 
before  the  tribunal  as  a  slanderer,  demanding  ten 
thousand  crowns  damages. 

The  two  parties  appeared  in  court,  and  this  was  all 
that  Farel  desired.  "I  confess  the  fact,"  said  he, 
"  but  I  am  justified  in  what  I  have  done.  Where  are 
there  to  be  found  more  horrible  murderers  than  these 
seducers  who  sell  paradise,  and  thus  nullify  the  merits 
of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ?  I  will  prove  my  assertion 
by  the  Gospel."  And  he  prepared  to  open  it,  when  the 
canons,  flushed  with  auger,  cried  out :  "  The  common 
law  of  Neufchatel,  and  not  the  Gospel,  is  in  question 
here!  Where  are  the  witnesses?"  But  Farel,  con- 
stantly reverting  to  that  fearful  assertion,  proved  by 
the  Word  of  God  that  the  canons  were  really  guilty  of 
murder  and  robbery.  To  plead  such  a  cause  was  to 
ruin  Popery.  The  coiu-t  of  Neufchatel,  that  had  never 
heard  a  similar  case,  resolved,  according  to  ancient 
custom,  to  lay  it  before  the  council  of  Besangou,  which, 
not  daring  to  pronounce  the  first  estate  of  the  General 
Audiences  guilty  of  murder  and  robbery,  referred  the 
matter  to  the  emperor  and  to  a  general  coimcil.  Bad 
causes  gain  nothing  by  making  a  disturbance. 

At  every  step  they  wished  to  drive  him  back,  Farel 
made  one  in  advance.  The  streets  and  the  houses  were 
still  his  temple.  One  day  when  the  people  of  Neuf- 
chatel were  around  him,  "  Why,"  cried  they,  "  should 
not  the  Word  of  God  be  proclaimed  in  a  church '?" 
They  then  hurried  Farel  along  with  them,  opened  the 
doors  of  the  Hospital  Chapel,  set  the  minister  in  the 
pulpit,  and  a  numerous  crowd  stood  silent  before  him. 
"  In  like  manner  as  Jesus  Christ,  appearing  in  a  state 
of  poverty  and  humility,  was  born  in  a  stable  at  Beth- 
lehem," said  the  reformer  ;  "so  this  hospital,  this  abode 
of  the  sick  and  of  the  poor,  is  to-day  become  His  birth- 
place in  the  town  of  Neufchatel."  Then,  feeling  ill  at 
ease  in  the  presence  of  the  painted  and  carved  figures 
that  decorated  the  chapel,  he  laid  his  hands  on  these  ob- 
jects of  idolatry,  removed  them,  and  broke  them  in  pieces. 

Popery,  which  anger  had  blinded,  now  took  a  step 
that  it  undoubtedly  had  a  right  to  take,  but  which 
destroyed  it :  it  had  recourse  to  the  secular  arm,  and 
the  governor  sent  a  deputation  to  the  Bernese  council, 
praying  the  removal  of  Farel  and  his  companions. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  EEFORMATION. 


But  almost  at  the  same  time  deputies  from  the  towns- 
people arrived  at  Berne.  "Did  not  these  hands  bear  arras 
at  Interlaken  and  at  Bremgarten  to  support  your  Refor- 
mation," said  they,  "and  will  you  abandon  us  iu  ours?" 

Berne  hesitated.  A  public  calamity  was  at  that  time 
filling  the  whole  city  with  mourning.  One  of  the  most 
illustrious  citizens  of  the  republic,  the  Banneret  of 
Weingarten,  attacked  by  the  plague,  was  expiring  amid 
the  teai's  of  his  sons  and  of  bis  fellow-citizens.  Being 
informed  of  the  arrival  of  the  Neufchatelans.  he  rallied 
his  waning  strength,  "Go,"  said  he,    "and   l^-j    tli^' 


senate  in  my  name  to  ask  for  a  general  assembly  of 
the  people  of  Neufchatel  for  Sunday  nest."  This 
message  of  the  dying  banneret  decided  the  council. 

The  deputies  from  Berne  arrived  in  Neufchatel  on 
the  7th  August.  Farel  thought  tliat  during  the  debates 
he  had  time  to  make  a  new  conquest,  and  quitted  the 
city.  His  zeal  can  be  compared  only  to  St.  Paul's. 
His  body  was  small  and  feeble,  but  his  activity  was 
wholly  apostolic :  danger  and  bad  treatment  wasted 
him  every  day,  but  he  had  within  him  a  Divine  power 
lli:it  i-.Midored  him  victorious. 


CHAPTER  Vn. 

Valangin— Guillemette  de  Vergy— Farel  goes  to  tlie  Val  de  Rnz— The  Mass 
interrupted— Farel  dragged  to  the  Elver— Farel  ia  Prison— Apostles 
and  Reformers  compared— Farel  Preaching  at  Neufchatel- Installed 
in  the  Cathedral— A  Whirlwind  sweeps  over  the  People— The  Idols 
Destroyed— Interposition  of  the  Governor— Triumph  of  the  Reformed. 

At  the  distance  of  a  league  from  Neufchatel,  beyoud 
the  mountain,  extends  the  Val  de  Ruz,  and  near  its 
entrance,  in  a  jirecipitous  situation,  where  roars  an  im- 
petuous torrent,  surrounded  by  steep  crags,  stands  the 
town  of  Valangin.  An  old  castle  built  on  a  rock  raises 
its  vast  walls  into  the  air,  overlooking  the  humble  dwell- 
ings of  the  townspeople,  and  extending  its  jurisdiction 
over  five  valleys  of  these  lofty  and  severe  mountains, 
at  that  time  covered  with  forests  of  pine,  but  now 
peopled  by  the  most  active  industry. 

In  this  castle  dwelt  Guillemette  de  Vergy,  dowager- 
countess  of  Valangin,  strongly  attached  to  the  Romish 
religion,  and  full  of  i-espect  for  the  memory  of  her 
husband.  A  hundred  priests  had  chanted  high  mass 
at  the  count's  burial ;  when  many  penitent  young 
women  had  been  married,  and  large  alms  distributed ; 
the  curate  of  Locle  had  been  sent  to  Jerusalem,  and 
Guillemette  herself  had  made  a  pilgrimage  for  the 
repose  of  the  soul  of  her  departed  lord. 

Sometimes,  however,  the  Countess  of  Gruyere  and 
other  ladies  would  come  and  visit  the  widow  of  Vergy, 


who  assembled  in  the  castle  a  number  of  young  lords. 
The  fife  and  tambourine  re-echoed  under  its  vaulted 
roofs,  chattering  groups  collected  in  the  immense  em- 
brasures of  its  Gothic  windows,  and  merry  dances  fol- 
lowed hard  upon  a  long  silence  and  gloomy  devotien. 
There  was  but  one  sentiment  that  never  left  Guille- 
mette— this  was  her  hatred  against  the  Reformation, 
in  which  she  was  warmly  seconded  by  her  intendant, 
the  Sieur  of  Bellegarde. 

Guillemette  and  the  priests  had,  in  fact,  reason  to 

1   tremble.     The  15  th  August  was  a  great  Romish  festi- 

[   val — Our  Lady  of  August,  or  the  Assumption,  which 

all  the  faithful  of  the  Val  de  Ruz  were  preparing  to 

keep.     This  was  the  very  day  Farel  selected.     Ani- 

!    mated  by  the  fire  and  courage  of  Elijah,  he  set  out  for 

j   Valangin,  and  a  young  man,  his  fellow-countryman, 

and,  as  it  would  appear,  a  distant  relation.     Anthony 

Boyve,   an  ardent    Christian   and  a  man   of   decided 

character,   accompanied   him.      The   two  missionaries 

climbed  the  mountain,  plunged  into   the  pine  forest, 

and  then  descending  again  into  tlie  valley,  traversed 

Valangin,  where  the  vicinity  of  the  castle  did  not  give 

them  much  encouragement  to  pause,  and  arrived  at  a 

village,  probably  Boudevilliers,  proposing  to  preach  the 

Gospel  there. 

Already  on  all  sides  the  people  were  thronging  to  the 
church  ;  Farel  and  his  companion  entered  also  with  a 
small  number  of  the  inhabitants  who  had  heai'd  him  at 


FAREL  DRAGGED  TO  THE  RIVER. 


513    I 


Neufcliatel.  The  reformer  immediately  ascended  tlie 
pulpit,  and  the  priest  prepared  to  celebrate  mass.  The 
combat  bcfjan.  Wliile  Farel  was  preaching  Jesus 
Christ  and  His  promises,  the  priest  and  the  choir 
were  chanting  the  missal.  The  solemn  moment  ap- 
proached :  the  iueffablc  transubstantiatiou  was  about 
to  take  place:  the  priest  in-nuniuiccd  the  sacred  words 
over  the  elements.  At  tlii<  in-hnil  (lie  people  hesitate 
no  longer;  ancient  habits,  an  iriTsi-liblc  influence,  draw 
them  towards  the  altar;  tiic  preacher  is  deserted;  the 
kneeling  crowd  has  recovered  its  old  worship ;  Rome 
is  triumphant.  .  .  .  Suddenly  a  young  man  springs 
from  the  throng — traverses  the  choir — rushes  to  the 
altar — snatches  the  host  from  the  hands  of  the  priest, 
and  cries,  as  he  turns  towards  the  people  :  "  This  is  not 
the  God  whom  you  should  worship.  He  is  above — in 
heaven — in  the  majesty  of  the  Father,  and  not,  as  you 
believe,  in  the  hands  of  a  priest."  This  man  was 
Anthony  I'ovve. 


PI E  R  R  E-PE 


Such  a  diiiing  act  at  first  produced  the  desired  effect. 
The  mass  was  interrupted,  the  chanting  ceased,  and  the 
crowd,  as  if  struck  by  a  supernatural  intervention,  re- 
mained silent  and  motionless.  Farel,  who  was  still  in 
the  pulpit,  immediately  took  advantage  of  this  calm, 
and  proclaimed  that  Christ  tvhom  the  heaven  must  receive 
witil  the  times  of  restitution  of  all  things.  Upon  this  the 
priests  and  choristers  with  their  adherents  rushed  to  the 
towers,  ran  up  into  the  belfry,  and  sounded  the  tocsin. 

These  means  succeeded:  a  crowd  was  collected,  and 
if  Farel  had  not  retired,  his  death  and  Boyve's  would 
have  been  inevitable.  "  But  God,"  says  the  chronicle, 
"  delivered  them."  They  crossed  the  interval  that 
separates  Boudevilllers  from  Valangin,  and  drew  near 
the  steep  gorges  of  the  torrent  of  the  Seyou.  But 
how  travei-se  that  town,  which  the  tocsin  had  already 
alarmed  ? 

Leaving  Chauraont  and  its  dark  forests  to  the  left, 
these  two  heralds  of  the  Gospel  took  a  narrow  path 
that  wound  beneath  the  castle:  they  were  stealing 
cautiously  along,  when  suddenly  a  shower  of  stones 
assailed  them,  and  at  the  same  time  a  score  of  indivi- 
duals,— priests,  men,  and  women, — armed  with  clubs, 
fell  furiously  upon  them.  "  The  priests  had  not  the 
gout  either  in  their  feet  or  arms,"  says  a  chronicler ; 
"  the  ministers  were  so  beaten  that  they  nearly  lost 
their  lives." 


Madame  de  Vergy,  who  descended  to  the  terrace,  far 
from  moderating  the  anger  of  the  priests,  cried  out: 
"Drown  them — drown  them!  throw  them  into  the 
Seyon — these  Lutheran  dogs,  who  have  despised  the 
host !"  In  fact,  the  priests  were  beginning  to  drag  the 
two  heretics  towards  the  bridge.  Never  was  Farel 
nearer  death. 

On  a  sudden,  from  behind  the  last  rock  that  hides 
Valangin  in  the  direction  of  the  mountain,  there  ap- 
peared "certain  good  persons  of  the  Val  de  Ruz,  com- 
ing from  Ncufchatel,"  and  descending  into  the  valley. 
"  What  are  you  doing?"  asked  they  of  the  priests,  with 
the  intention,  no  doubt,  of  saving  Farel ;  "put  them 
rather  in  a  place  of  safety,  that  they  may  answer  for 
their  proceedings  ?  Would  you  deprive  yourselves  of 
the  only  means  in  your  power  of  discovering  those  in- 
fected by  the  poison  of  Iprr^y.''' 


k    :e^. 


The  priests  left  off  at  these  words,  and  conducted 
the  prisoners  to  the  castle.  As  they  were  passing  be- 
fore a  little  chapel,  which  contained  an  image  of  the 
Virgin,  "  Kneel  down,"  said  they  to  Farel  and  Boyve, 
shewing  them  the  statue  ;  "  prostrate  yourselves  before 
Our  Lady!"  Farel  began  to  admonish  them  :  "Wor- 
ship one  God  alone  in  spirit  and  in  truth,"  said  he  to 
them,  "and  not  dumb  images  without  life  or  power." 
But  they,  continues  the  chronicle,  "  greatly  vexed  at 
his  words  and  his  firmness,  inflicted  on  him  so  many 
blows  that  he  was  covered  with  blood,  which  even 
spirted  on  the  walls  of  the  chapel.  For  a  long  time 
after  the  traces  of  it  might  still  be  seen." 

They  resumed  their  march — they  entered  the  town — 
they  climbed  the  steep  road  that  led  to  the  esplanade 
where  Guillemette  de  Vergy  and  her  attendants  waited 
for  the  "Lutherans;"  so  that,  continues  the  chronicle, 
"from  beating  them  thus  continually,  they  were  con- 
ducted, all  covered  with  filth  and  blood,  to  the  prisons, 
and  let  down  almost  lifeless  into  the  dungeon  (croton) 
of  the  castle  of  Valangin."  Thus  had  Paul  at  Lystra 
been  stoned  by  the  Jews,  drawn  out  of  the  city,  and 
left  for  dead.  The  Apostles  and  the  Reformers  preached 
the  same  doctrine  and  suffered  the  same  treatment. 

It  may  perhaps  be  said  that  Farel  and  Boyve  were 
too  violent  in  tlieir  attack ;  but  the  Church  of  the 
Middle  Ages,  which  had  fallen  back  into  the  legal 
spirit  of  Judaism,  and  into  all  the  corruptions  that 
flow  from  it,  needed  an  energetic  opposition  to  lead  it 
again  to  the  principle  of  grace.     Augustine  and  St. 


51^ 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION, 


Paul  i-e.appearefl  in  the  Churcli  of  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury; and  when  we  read  of  Boyve  rushing  in  great 
emotion  on  those  who  were  about  to  worship  the  bread 
of  tlie  mass,  may  we  not  recall  to  mind  the  action  of 
St.  Paul,  rending  his  clothes,  and  rnnning  in  among 
the  people  who  were  desirous  of  worshipping  men  of 
lib:  passions  irith  themselves? 

Farel  and  Boyve,  thrust  into  the  dungeons  of  the 
castlo,  could,  like  Paul  and  Silas  in  the  prison  at 
Philippi,  sinr/  pt-alses  unto  God.  Messire  de  Bellegardo, 
ever  ready  to  persecute  the  Gospel,  was  preparing  for 
them  a  cruel  end,  when  some  townsmen  of  Neufchafcl 
arrived  to  claim  them.  Madame  de  Valangiu  dared 
not  refuse,  and  at  the  demand  of  the  Bernese  even 
instituted  an  inquiry,  "  to  put  a  good  face  on  the 
matter,"  says  a  manuscript.  "Nevertheless,  the  priest 
who  had  beaten  Farel  most  never  after  failed  to  eat 
daily  at  the  lady's  table,  by  way  of  recompense."  But 
this  was  of  little  consequence :  the  seed  of  truth  had 
been  sown  in  the  Val  de  Ruz. 

At  Neufchatel  the  Bernese  supported  the  evangelical 
citizens.  The  governor,  whose  resources  were  ex- 
hausted, sent  deputies  to  the  princess,  "begging  her  to 
cross  the  mountains,  to  appease  her  people,  who  were 
in  terrible  trouble  in  consequence  of  this  Lutheran 
religion." 

Meantime  the  ferment  increased.  The  townspeople 
prayed  the  canons  to  give  up  the  mass  :  they  refused  ; 
whereupon  the  citizens  presented  them  their  reasons  in 
writing,  and  begged  them  to  discuss  the  question  with 
Farel.  Still  the  same  refusal! — "But,  for  goodness' 
sake,  speak  either  for  or  against!"  It  was  all  of  no 
use ! 

On  Sunday,  the  23d  of  October,  Farel,  who  had  re- 
turned to  Neufchatel,  was  preaching  at  the  hospital. 
lie  knew  that  the  magistrates  of  the  city  had  deliberated 
on  the  expediency  of  consecrating  the  cathedral  itself 
to  the  evangelical  worship.  "  What,  then,"  said  he, 
"  will  you  not  pay  as  much  honour  to  the  Gospel  as 
the  other  party  does  to  the  mass?  .  .  .  And  if 
this  superstitious  act  is  celebrated  in  the  high  church, 
shall  not  the  Gospel  be  proclaimed  there  also?  At 
these  words  all  his  hearers  arose.  "To  the  church!" 
cried  they;  "  to  the  church  !"  Impetuous  men  are  de- 
sirous of  putting  their  hands  to  the  work,  to  accomplish 
what  the  prudence  of  the  burgesses  had  proposed.^ 
Tliey  leave  tlie  hospital,  and  take  Farel  with  them. 
They  climb  the  steep  street  of  the  castle :  in  vain 
would  the  canons  and  their  frightened  followers  stop 
the  crowd  :  they  force  a  passage.  Convinced  that  they 
are  advancing  for  God's  glory,  nothing  can  check  them. 
Insults  and  shouts  assail  them  from  every  side,  but  in 
the  name  of  the  truth  they  are  defending  they  pro- 
ceed :  they  open  the  gates  of  the  Church  of  Our  Lady; 
they  enter,  and  here  a  fresh  struggle  begins.  The 
canons  and  their  friends  assembled  around  the  pulpit 
endeavoured  to  stop  Farel ;  but  all  is  useless.  Tliey 
have  not  to  deal  with  a  band  of  rioters.     God  has  pro- 

1  This  is  the  conclusion  I  draw  from  various  papers,  and  in  particular 
fiiiiu  the  report  of  the  meeting  held  at  Neufchatel  by  the  Bernese  deputies, 
ill  ivliieli  the  huaJs  of  the  burgesses  declare,  that  it  appeared  to  them  a  very 

i' '  iiwttrr  to  tal:c  down  the  altars,  £c.    Hitherto  only  one  phasis  of  this 

aiiioii  luis  i)ci:n  seen,— the  popular  movement;  and  the  other,  namely,  the 
legiil  resolution  of  the  magistrates  of  the  city,  appears  to  have  been  ovcr- 


nounced  in  His  Word,  and  the  magistrates  themselves 
have  passed  a  definitive  resolution.  The  townspeople 
advance,  therefore,  against  the  sacerdotal  coterie  ;  they 
form  a  close  battalion,  in  the  centre  of  which  they 
place  the  reformer.  They  succeed  in  making  their  way 
through  the  opposing  crowd,  and  at  last  place  the 
minister  in  the  pulpit  without  auy  harm  befalling 
him. 

Immediately  all  is  calm  within  the  church  and  with- 
out ;  even  the  adversaries  are  silent,  and  Farel  delivers 
"one  of  the  most  effective  sermons  he  had  hitherto 
preached."  Their  eyes  ai'e  opened ;  their  emotion  in- 
creases ;  their  hearts  are  melted ;  the  most  obstinate 
appear  converted ;  and  from  every  part  of  the  old 
church  these  cries  resound:  "We  will  follow  the 
evangelical  religion,  both  we  and  our  children,  and 
in  it  will  we  live  and  die." 

Suddenly  a  whirlwind,  as  it  were,  sweeps  over  this 
multitude,  and  stirs  it  up  like  a  vast  sea.  Farel's 
hearers  desire  to  imitate  the  pious  King  Josiah.  "  If 
we  take  away  these  idols  from  before  our  eyes,  will  it 
not  be  aiding  us,"  said  they,  "  in  taking  them  from  our 
own  hearts  ?  Once  these  idols  broken,  how  many  souls 
among  our  fellow-citizens,  now  disturbed  and  hesitat- 
ing, will  be  decided  by  this  striking  manifestation  of 
the  truth !     We  must  save  them  as  it  were  by  fire." 

This  latter  motive  decided  them,  and  then  began  a 
scene  that  filled  the  Romanists  with  horror,  and  which 
must,  according  to  them,  bring  down  the  terrible  judg- 
ment of  God  on  the  city. 

The  very  spot  where  this  took  place  would  seem  to 
add  to  its  solemnity.  To  the  north,  the  castle-walls 
rise  above  the  pointed  crags  of  the  gloomy  but  pic- 
turesque valley  of  the  Seyon,  and  the  mountain  in  front 
of  the  castle  presents  to  the  observer's  eye  little  more 
than  bare  rocks,  vines,  and  black  firs.  But  to  the 
south,  beneath  the  terrace  on  which  this  tumultuous 
scene  was  passing,  lay  the  wide  and  tranquil  waters  of 
the  lake,  with  its  fertile  and  picturesque  shores ;  and 
in  the  distance  the  continuous  summits  of  the  higher 
Alps,  with  their  dazzling  snows,  their  immense  glaciers, 
and  gigantic  peaks,  stretch  far  away  before  the  enrap- 
tured eye. 

On  this  platform  the  people  of  Neufchatel  were  in 
commotion,  paying  little  attention  tp  these  noble  scenes 
of  nature.  The  governor,  whose  castle  adjoined  the 
church,  was  compelled  to  remain  an  idle  spectator  of 
the  excesses  that  he  could  not  prevent;  he  was  content 
to  leave  us  a  description  of  them.  "These  daring  fel- 
lows," says  he,  "  seize  mattocks,  hatchets,  and  hammers, 
and  thus  march  against  the  images  of  the  saints."  They 
advance — they  strike  the  statues  and  the  altars — they 
dash  them  to  pieces.  The  figures  carved  in  the  four- 
teenth century  by  the  "  imagers  "  of  Count  Louis  are 
not  spared;  and  scarcely  do  the  statues  of  the  counts 
themselves,  which  were  mistaken  for  idols,  escape 
destruction.  The  townspeople  collect  all  these  frag- 
ments of  an  idolatrous  worship ;  they  carry  them  out 
of  the  church,  and  throw  them  from  the  top  of  the 
rock.  The  paintings  meet  with  no  better  treatment. 
"It  is  the  devil,"  thought  they  with  the  early  Christ- 
ians, "who  taught  the  world  this  art  of  statues,  images, 
and  all  sorts  of  likenesses."  They  tear  out  the  eyes  in 
the  pictures  of  the  saints,  and  cut  off  their  noses.     The 


TRIUMPH  OF  THE  REFORM. 


crucifix  itself  is  tlirowii  down,  for  this  wooden  figure 
usurps  the  liomage  that  Jesus  Ciirist  claims  in  the 
lioart.  One  image,  the  most  venerated  of  all,  still 
remains:  it  is  Our  Lady  of  Mercy,  which  Mary  of 
Savoy  had  preseuted  to  the  collegiate  church ;  but  Our 
Lady  herself  is  not  spared.  A  hand  more  daring  than 
the  rest  strikes  it,  as  in  the  fourth  century  the  coloss.al 
statue  of  Scrapis  was  struck.  "  They  have  even  bored 
out  the  eyes  of  Our  Lady  of  Mercy,  which  the  departed 
lady  your  mother  had  caused  to  be  made,"  wrote  the 
governor  to  the  Duchess  of  Lougueville. 

The  reformed  went  still  further:  they  seized  the 
patens  iu  which  lay  the  corpus  Domini,  and  flung  them 
from  the  top  of  the  rock  into  the  torrent;  after  which, 
being  desirous  of  shewing  that  the  consecrated  wafers 
are  mere  bread,  and  not  God  himself,  they  distributed 
them  one  to  another  and  ate  them.  ...  At  this 
sight  the  canons  and  chaplains  could  no  longer  remain 
quiet.  A  cry  of  horror  was  heard;  they  ran  up  with 
their  .adherents,  ,ind  opposed  force  to  force.  At  length 
began  the  struggle  that  had  been  so  much  dreaded. 

The  provost  Oliver  of  ITochberg,  the  canons  Simon 
of  Neufchatel  and  Pontus  of  Soleilant,-all  three  mem- 
bers of  the  privy  council,  had  repaired  hastily  to  the 
castle,  as  well  as  the  other  councillors  of  the  princess. 
Until  this  moment  they  had  remained  silent  spectators 
of  the  scene ;  but  when  they  saw  the  two  parties  com- 
ing to  blows,  they  ordered  all  "  the  supporters  of  the 
evangelical  doctrine"  to  appear  before  the  governor. 
This  was  like  trying  to  chain  the  winds.  Besides, 
wliy  should  the  reformers  stop?  They  were  not  acting 
without  legitimate  authority.  "Tell  the  governor," 
replied  the  townspeople  haughtily,  "  that  in  the  con- 
cerns of  God  and  of  our  souls  he  has  no  command  over 
us." 

George  de  Rive  then  discovered  that  his  authority 
failed  against  a  power  superior  to  his  own.  He  must 
yield,  and  save  at  least  some  remnants.  He  hastened, 
therefore,  to  remove  the  images  that  still  remained, 
and  to  shut  them  up  iu  secret  chambers.  The  citizens 
of  Xeufchatel  allowed  him  to  execute  this  measure. 
"  Save  your  gods,"  thought  they,  "  preserve  them  under 
strong  bars,  lost  perchance  a  robber  should  deprive  you 
of  the  objects  of  your  adoration !"  By  degrees  the 
tumult  died  away,  tlie  popular  torrent  returned  within 
its  channel,  and  a  short  time  after,  in  commemoration 
of  this  great  day,  these  words  were  inscribed  on  a  pillar 
of  the  church : — 

l'aX,    1530,    LE    23    OCTOBKE    FCT    OTEE    ET   ABATTUE 

l'idolatrie  de  ceast  pau  les  bourgeois.' 

An  immense  revolution  had  been  effected.  Doubt- 
less it  would  have  been  better  if  the  images  had  been 
taken  away  and  the  Gospel  substituted  in  their  place 
with  calmness,  as  at  Zurich;  but  we  must  take  into  con- 
sideration the  dilliculties  that  so  profound  and  contested 
a  change  brings  with  it,  and  make  allowance  for  the 
inexperience  and  excesses  inseparable  from  a  first 
explosion.  He  who  should  see  in  this  revolution  its 
excesses  only,  would  betray  a  singularly  narrow  mind. 
It  is  the  Gospel  that  triumphed  on  the  esplanade  of 
the  castle.     It  was  no  longer  a  few  pictures  or  legends 

1  On  the  23d  of  Oetober,  1530,  idolatry  was  overthrown  .nnd  removed  from 
this  church  by  the  citizens. 


that  were  to  speak  to  the  imagination  of  the  Ncuf- 
chatelans:  the  revelation  of  Christ  and  of  the  Apostles, 
as  it  had  been  preserved  in  the  Holy  Scriptures,  was 
restored  to  them.  In  place  of  the  mysteries,  symbols, 
and  miracles  of  Popery,  the  Reformatio:!  brought 
them  sublime  tenets,  powerfnl  doctrines,  holy  and 
eternal  truths.  Instead  of  a  mass,  void  of  God,  and 
tilled  with  human  puerilities,  it  restored  to  them  the 
Supper  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  His  invisible  yet  real 
and  mighty  presence.  His  promises  giving  peace  to  the 
soul,  and  His  Spirit,  which  changes  the  heart,  aud  is  a 
sure  pledge  of  a  glorious  resurrection.  All  is  gain  in 
such  an  exchange. 


CHAPTER  YIIL 

Tlio  Romanists  Demand  a  Ballot— Tho  Bernese  in  Favour  of  tho  Ri-forra— 
Both  Parties  come  to  the  Poll— Tho  Prudhomraes  of  Neufchatel- Pro- 
posed Delay— The  Romanists  grasp  the  Sword— The  Voting— Majority 
for  Reform— Protestantism  Pci-petual— The  Image  of  Saint  John— A 
Jliracle— Retreat  of  the  Canons— Popery  and  the  Gos;iel. 

The  governor  and  his  trusty  friends  had  not,  however, 
lost  all  hope.  '•  It  is  only  a  minority,"  said  they  at  tho 
civstle,  '•  which  lias  taken  part  in  the  destruction  of  the 
images:  the  majority  of  the  nation  still  obeys  the 
ancient  doctrine."  M.  de  Rive  had  yet  to  learn  that 
if,  in  a  popular  movement,  the  minority  only  appears, 
it  is  in  some  cases  because  the  majority,  being  of  the 
same  mind  with  it,  prefers  leaving  the  action  to  others. 
However  that  may  be,  the  governor,  thinking  himself 
upon  sure  ground,  resolved  to  put  the  preservation  of 
the  mass  to  the  vote.  If  the  majority  were  doubtful, 
the  combined  influence  of  the  government  and  clergy 
would  make  it  incline  to  the  side  of  Rome.  The  friends 
of  the  Reformation  perceiving  this  trick,  and  feeling 
the  necessity  of  securing  the  integrity  of  the  votes,  de- 
manded the  presence  of  Bernese  commissioners.  This 
was  at  first  refused.  But  Neufchatel,  divided  into  two 
hostile  parties,  might  at  any  time  see  her  streets  run 
blood :  De  Rive,  therefore,  called  Berne  to  his  aid. 

Anthony  Noll  and  Sulpice  Archer,  both  members  of 
the  council,  with  Jacques  Tribolet,  bailiff  of  the  Isle  of 
St.  John,  all  three  devoted  to  the  Reform,  made  their 
entry  into  Neufchatel  on  the  4th  November, — an  event- 
ful day  for  the  principality,  and  one  which  would  de- 
cide its  reformation.  The  deputies  proceeded  to  the 
castle,  where  they  spoke  with  great  haughtiness. 
"  Their  excellencies  of  Berne,"  said  they  to  the  gover- 
nor, "  are  much  astonished  that  yon  should  oppose  tho 
true  and  pure  Word  of  God.  Desist  immediately,  or 
else  your  state  and  lordsiiip  may  suffer  for  it." 

George  de  Rive  was  amazed ;  he  had  thought  to 
summon  helpers,  and  he  had  found  masters.  He  made, 
however,  an  attempt  to  escape  from  the  strait  in  which 
he  was  caught.  The  Roman  Catholic  cantons  of 
Lucerne,  Friburg,  and  Soleure,  were  also  allies  of  the 
state.  The  governor  insinuated  to  the  Bernese  deputies 
that  he  might  well  claim  their  intervention.  At  these 
words  the  deputies  indignantly  arose,  and  declared  to 
M.  dc  Rive,  that  if  he  did  so,  he  might  be  the  cause  of 
his  sovereign's  losing  Neufchatel.     The  governor  saw 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


the  impossibility  of  escaping  from  tlie  uet  into  which  he 
had  fallen.  There  remained  no  alternative  but  sub- 
mission, and  to  watch  the  current  of  events  which  it 
was  impossible  for  him  to  direct. 

It  was  not  thus  with  the  canons  and  the  nobles.  Not 
considering  themselves  beaten,  they  surrounded  the 
Bernese ;  and  mingling  religion  and  politics,  as  is  their 
wont  in  similar  cases,"  endeavoured  to  shake  them. 
"Do  you  not  see,"  said  they,  ''that  unless  we  support 
the  spiritual  power,  we  shall  compromise  the  civil 
power?  The  surest  bulwark  of  the  throne  is  the  altar ! 
These  men,  whose  defenders  you  have  become,  are  but 
a  handful  of  mischief-makers :  the  majority  are  for  the 
mass!" — "Turn  which  way  you  like,"  replied  one  of 
the  stubborn  Bernese,  "  even  though  the  majority 
should  be  on  your  side,  still  you  must  go  that  way; 
never  will  our  lordships  abandon  the  defenders  of  the 
evangelical  faith. 

The  people  assembled  at  the  castle  for  the  definitive 
vote.  The  destiny  of  Neufchatel  was  about  to  be 
decided.  On  oue  hand  were  crowded  around  the  gov- 
ernor the  privy  council,  the  canons,  and  the  most 
zealous  of  the  Romanists ;  on  the  other  were  to  be 
seen  the  four  aldermen,  the  town-council,  and  a  great 
number  of  the  citizens,  gravely  ascending  the  steep 
avenue  leading  to  the  government  house,  aud  drawing 
up  in  front  of  their  adversaries.  On  both  sides  there 
was  the  same  attachment  to  their  faith  and  the  same 
decision ;  but  arouud  the  canons  were  many  anxious 
minds,  troubled  hearts,  and  downcast  eyes,  while  the 
friends  of  the  Reform  advanced  with  uplifted  heads, 
firm  looks,  and  hearts  full  of  hope. 

George  de  Rive,  wishing  to  gain  over  their  minds, 
began  to  address  them.  He  described  the  violence 
with  which  the  reformed  had  broken  the  images  and 
thrown  down  the  altars.  "And  yet,"  continued  he, 
"  who  founded  this  church  ?  It  was  the  princess's  pre- 
decessors, aud  not  the  citizens.  For  which  reason,  I 
demand  that  all  those  who  have  violently  infringed  our 
sovereign's  authority,  be  obliged  to  restore  what  they 
have  taken  away,  so  that  the  holy  mass  and  the  canoni- 
cal hours  may  be  celebrated  anew." 

Upon  this  the  jinid/iommes  of  Neufchatel  advanced. 
They  were  not  a  troop  of  young  and  giddy  persons,  as 
the  Papists  had  pretended ;  they  were  grave  citizens, 
whose  liberties  were  guaranteed,  and  who  had  weighed 
what  they  had  to  say.  "  By  the  illumination  of  the 
Holy  Ghost,"  replied  they,  "  and  by  the  holy  doctrines 
of  the  Gospel,  which  are  taught  us  in  the  pure  Word 
of  God,  we  will  shew  that  the  mass  is  an  abuse,  with- 
out any  utility,  and  which  conduces  much  more  to  the 
damnation  than  to  the  salvation  of  souls.  And  we  are 
ready  to  prove  that  by  taking  away  the  altars,  we  have 
done  nothing  that  was  not  right  and  acceptable  to 
God." 

Thus  the  two  parties  met  face  to  face  with  "great 
haired  and  division,"  says  the  Bernese  report.  The 
arbitrators  consulted  together.  The  governor  persisted, 
feeling  that  this  movement  would  decide  the  future.  A 
few  votes  would  sutlice  for  the  triumph  of  Rome,  and 
he  reckoned  on  gaining  them  by  his  assurance.  "  You 
should  understand,"  said  he,  "  that  the  majority  of  this 
towu,  men  and  women,  adhere  firmly  to  the  ancient 
faith.     The  others  are  hot-headed  young  soldiers,  vain 


of  their  persons,  and  puffed  up  with  the  new  doctrine." 
— "  AVell !"  replied  the  Bernese  deputies,  "to  prevent 
all  mischief,  let  us  settle  this  difference  by  the  phu-ality 
of  suffrages,  in  accordance  with  the  treaty  of  peace 
made  at  Bremgarten  between  the  cantons." 

This  was  what  the  reformed  desired.  "  The  vote ! 
the  vote !"  cried  they,  according  to  the  expression  con- 
secrated to  such  cases.  But  the  lord  of  Prangins  and 
the  priests,  who  had  desired  it  when  they  were  alone, 
shrunk  back  in  the  presence  of  Berne.  "  "We  ask  for 
time,"  said  they.  If  the  reformed  allowed  themselves 
to  be  cheated  by  these  dilatory  measures,  all  was  over. 
When  once  the  Bernese  had  quitted  Neufchatel,  the 
governor  and  the  clergy  would  easily  have  the  upper- 
hand.  They  therefore  remained  firm.  "No,  no," 
said  they,  "now! — no  delay! — not  a  day!  not  an 
hour!"  But  the  governor,  in  the  face  of  a  proceeding 
that  would  decide  the  legal  fall  of  Popery,  trembled'^ 
and  obstinately  opposed  the  cries  of  the  people.  The 
magistrates  were  already  iudignaut,  the  burghers  mur- 
mui-ed,  aud  the  most  violent  looked  at  their  swords. 
"  They  were  resolved  to  compel  us,  sword  in  hand," 
wrote  the  governor  to  the  princess.  A  fresh  storm 
was  gathering  over  Neufchatel.  Yet  a  few  more 
miuutes'  resistance,  and  it  would  burst  forth  upon 
the  church,  the  town,  and  the  castle,  destroying  not 
only  statues,  images,  and  altars,  but  "there  would 
have  remained  dead  men,"  said  the  lord  of  Rive. 
He  gave  way  in  trouble  and  affright. 

At  the  news  of  this  concession,  the  partisans  of 
Rome  saw  all  their  danger.  They  conferred,  they  con- 
certed their  measures,  and  in  an  instant  their  resolu- 
tion was  taken:  they  were  resolved  to  fight.  "My 
lord,"  said  they,  turuing  to  M.  de  Rive,  and  touching 
the  hilt  of  their  swords,  "  all  of  us  who  adhere  to  the 
holy  Sacrament  are  resolved  to  die  martyrs  for  our 
holy  faith."  This  demonstration  did  not  escape  the 
notice  of  the  young  soldiers  who  had  returned  from  the 
Genevese  war.  Oue  minute  more  and  the  swords 
would  have  been  drawn,  and  the  platform  changed 
into  a  battle-field. 

Monseigneur  de  Prangins,  more  wily  than  orthodox, 
shuddered  at  the  thought.  "  I  cannot  suffer  it,"  said 
he  to  the  most  violent  of  his  party;  "such  an  enter- 
prise would  forfeit  my  mistress's  state  and  lordship." — 
"I  consent,"  said  he  to  the  Bernese,  "to  take  the  votes, 
with  reserve,  nevertheless,  of  the  sovereignty,  rights, 
and  lordship  of  Madame." — "And  we,"  replied  the 
townspeople,  "  with  the  reserve  of  our  liberties  and 
privileges." 

The  Romanists,  seeing  the  political  power  they  had 
invoked  now  failing  them,  felt  that  all  was  lost.  They 
will  save  their  honour  at  least  in  this  great  shipwreck ; 
they  will  subscribe  their  names,  that  posterity  may 
know  who  had  remained  faithful  to  Rome.  These 
proud  supporters  of  the  hierarchy  advanced  towards 
the  governor ;  tears  coursed  down  their  rough  cheeks, 
betraying  thus  their  stifled  anger.  They  wrote  their 
signatures  as  witnesses  at  the  foot  of  the  solemn  testa- 
ment that  Popery  was  now  drawing  up  iu  Neufchatel, 
in  the  presence  of  the  Bernese  deputies.  They  then 
asked,  with  tears  in  their  eyes,  "  that  the  names  and 
surnames  of  the  good  and  of  the  perverse  should  be 
written  in  perpetual  memory,  and  declared  that  they 


PROTESTANTISM  PERPETUAL. 


517 


were  still  sood  and  faithful  burghers  of  Madame,  and 
would  do  her  service  unto  death  !" 

The  reformed  burgesses  were  convinced  that  it  was 
only  by  frankly  bearing  testimony  to  their  religious 
convictions  that  they  could  discharge  their  duty  before 
(iod,  their  sovereign,  and  their  fellow-citizens.  So 
tluit  the  Catholics  had  scarcely  protested  their  fidelity 
towards  their  lady,  when,  turning  towards  the  governor, 
the  reformed  cried  out :  "  We  say  the  same  in  every 
other  thing  in  which  it  shall  please  our  Mistress  to 
command  us,  save  and  except  the  evangelical  faith,  in 
which  we  will  live  and  die." 

Everything  was  then  prepared  for  taking  the  votes. 
The  Church  of  Our  Lady  was  opened,  and  the  two 
parties  advanced  between  the  shattered  altars,  torn 
l)ictures,  mutilated  statues,  and  all  those  ruins  of 
i'upery,  which  clearly  foretold  to  its  partisans  the  last 
and  irrevocable  defeat  it  was  about  to  undergo.  The 
tliree  lords  of  Berne  took  their  station  beside  the 
governor  as  arbitrators  of  the  proceedings  and  presi- 
dents of  the  assembly,  and  the  voting  began. 

George  de  Rive,  notwithstanding  the  despondency  of 
his  friends,  was  not  altogether  without  hope.  All  the 
partisans  of  the  ancient  worship  in  Neufchatcl  had 
been  forewarned ;  and  but  a  few  days  previously  the 
reformed  themselves,  by  refusing  a  poll,  had  acknow- 
ledged the  numerical  superiority  of  their  adversaries. 
But  the  friends  of  the  Gospel  in  Neufchatel  had  a 
courage  and  a  hope  that  seemed  to  repose  on  a  firmer 
basis.  Were  they  not  the  victorious  party,  and  could 
they  be  vanquished  in  the  midst  of  their  triumph? 

The  two  parties,  however,  moved  forward,  con- 
founded with  one  another,  and  each  man  gave  his  vote 
in  silence.  They  counted  each  other :  the  result  ap- 
peared uncertain  ;  fear  froze  each  party  by  turns.  At 
length  the  majority  seemed  to  declare  itself ; — they 
took  out  the  votes, — the  result  was  proclaimed.  A 
majority  of  eighteen  voices  gave  the  victory  to  the 
Kefoi-mation,  and  the  last  blow  to  the  Papacy ! 

The  Bernese  lords  immediately  hastened  to  profit  by 
this  advantage.  "Live  henceforth,"  said  they,  "in 
good  understanding  with  one  another ;  let  the  mass  be 
no  longer  celebrated;  let  no  injury  be  done  to  the 
priests ;  and  pay  to  your  Lady,  or  to  whomsoever  they 
may  be  justly  due,  all  tithes,  quit-rent,  cense,  and 
revenues."  These  different  points  were  proclaimed  by 
the  assembly,  and  a  report  was  immediately  drawn  up, 
to  which  the  deputies,  the  governors,  and  the  magis- 
trates of  the  city  of  Neufchatel  affixed  their  respective 
seals. 

Farel  did  not  appear  in  all  this  business  :  one  might 
have  said  that  the  reformer  was  not  at  Neufchatel :  the 
citizens  appealed  only  to  the  Word  of  God ;  and  the 
governor  himself,  in  his  long  report  to  the  princess, 
does  not  once  mention  him.  It  was  the  Apostles  of 
our  Lord,  St.  Peter,  St.  John,  St.  Paul,  and  St.  James, 
who,  by  their  Divine  writings,  re-established  the  true 
foundations  of  the  Church  in  the  midst  of  the  people 
of  Neufchatel.  The  AVord  of  God  was  the  law  of  the 
pniMommes.  In  vain  will  the  Eomau  Church  say, 
"  But  these  very  Scriptures, — it  is  I  who  gave  them  to 
you ;  you  cannot  therefore  believe  in  them  without 
believing  in  me."  It  is  not  from  the  Church  of  Home 
that  the  Protestant  Church  receives  the  Bible.     Pro- 


testantism has  always  existed  in  the  Church.  It  has 
existed  alone  in  every  place  where  men  have  been  en- 
gaged iu  the  study  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  of  their 
Divine  origin,  of  their  interpretation,  and  iu  their  dis- 
semination. The  Protestantism  of  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury received  the  Bible  from  the  Protestantism  of  every 
age.  When  Rome  speaks  of  the  hierarchy,  she  is  on 
her  own  ground ;  as  soon  as  she  speaks  of  the  Scrip- 
tures, she  is  on  ours.  If  Farel  had  been  put  forward 
in  Neufchatel,  he  would  not  perhaps  have  been  able 
to  stand  against  the  pope ;  but  the  AVord  of  Christ 
alone  was  concerned,  and  Rome  must  fall  before 
Jesus. 

Thus  terminated,  by  a  mutual  contract,  that  day  at 
first  so  threatening.  If  the  Reformed  had  sacrificed 
any  of  their  convictions  to  a  false  peace,  disorder 
would  have  been  perpetuated  in  Neufchatel.  A  bold 
manifestation  of  the  truth,  and  the  inevitable  shocks 
that  accompanied  it,  far  from  destroying  society,  pre- 
served it.  This  manifestation  is  the  wind  that  lifts 
the  vessel  from  the  rocks  and  brings  it  into  the  har- 
bour. 

The  lord  of  Prangins  felt  that,  between  fellow- 
citizens,  "  it  is  better  to  touch  one  another,  even  if  it 
be  by  collision,  than  to  avoid  each  other  continually." 
The  free  explanation  that  had  taken  place  had  rendered 
the  opposition  of  the  two  parties  less  irritating.  "I 
give  my  promise,"  said  the  governor,  "  to  undertake 
nothing  against  the  vote  of  this  day,  for  I  am  myself 
a  witness  that  it  has  been  honest,  upright,  without 
danger,  and  without  coercion." 

It  was  necessary  to  dispose  of  the  spoils  of  the  van- 
quished party:  the  governor  opened  the  castle  to  them. 
Thither  were  transported  the  relics,  the  ornaments  of 
the  altars,  the  church  papers,  and  even  the  organ;  and 
the  mass,  expelled  from  the  city,  was  there  mournfully 
chanted  every  day. 

All  the  ornaments,  however,  did  not  take  this  road. 
Some  days  after,  as  two  citizeus,  named  Fauche  and 
Sauge,  were  going  out  together  to  their  vineyards,  they 
passed  a  little  chapel,  in  which  the  latter  had  set  up  a 
wooden  figure  of  St.  John.  He  said  to  his  companion, 
"  There  is  an  image  I  shall  heat  my  stove  with  to- 
morrow." And,  iu  fact,  as  he  returned,  he  carried 
away  the  saint  and  laid  it  down  in  front  of  his  house. 

The  next  morning  he  took  the  image  and  put  it 
on  the  fire.  Immediately  a  horrible  explosion  spread 
dismay  through  this  humble  family.  The  trembling 
Fauche  doubted  not  that  it  was  a  miracle  of  the  saint, 
and  hastened  to  return  to  the  mass.  In  vain  did  his 
neighbour  Sauge  protest  to  him  upon  oath  that,  during 
the  night,  he  had  made  a  hole  in  the  statue,  filled  it 
with  gunpowder,  and  closed  it  up  again.  Fauche  would 
listen  to  nothing,  and  resolved  to  fiee  from  the  ven- 
geance of  the  saints.  He  went  and  settled  with  his 
family  at  Morteau  iu  Tranche  Comte.  Such  are  the 
miracles  upon  which  the  divinity  of  Rome  reposes  ! 

By  degrees  everything  became  settled:  some  of 
the  canons,  as  Jacques  Baillod,  AVilliam  de  Pur}-, 
and  Benedict  Chambrier,  embraced  the  Reformation. 
Others  were  recommended  by  the  governor  to  the 
priory  of  Motiers,  in  the  Val  de  Travers ;  and,  in  the 
middle  of  November,  at  the  time  when  the  winds 
began  to  rage  among  the  mountains,  several  canons, 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


surrouuded  by  a  few  singing-boys, — sad  relics  of  the 
nucient,  powerful,  rich,  voluptuous,  and  hatighty  chap- 
ter of  Neufcliatel, — painfully  climbed  the  gorges  of  the 
Jura,  and  went  to  conceal  in  these  lofty  and  pictur- 
esque valleys  the  disgrace  of  a  defeat,  which  their  long 
disorders  and  their  insupportable  tyranny  had  but  too 
justly  provoked. 

During  this  time  the  new  worship  was  organized. 
In  room  of  the  high-altar  were  substituted  two  marble 
tables  to  receive  the  bread  and  wine ;  and  the  Word 
of  God  was  preached  from  a  pulpit  stripped  of  every 
ornament.  The  pre-eminence  of  the  Word,  which 
characterizes  the  evangelical  worship,  replaced  in  the 
church  of  Neufcliatel  the  pre-eminence  of  the  sacra- 
ment, which  characterizes  Popery.  Towards  the  end 
of  the  second  century,  Rome,  that  ancient  metropolis 
of  all  religions,  after  having  welcomed  the  Christian 
worship  iu  its  primitive  purity,  had  gradually  trans- 
formed it  into  mysteries;  a  magic  power  had  been 
ascribed  to  certain  forms ;  and  the  reign  of  the  sacri- 
fice offered  by  the  priest  had  succeeded  to  the  reign  of 
the  Word  of  God.  The  pi-eaching  of  Farel  had  re- 
stored the  AVord  to  the  rights  which  belonged  to  it ; 
and  those  vaulted  roofs  which  the  piety  of  Count 
Ulrich  II.  had,  on  his  return  from  Jerusalem,  dedicated 
to  the  worship  of  the  Virgin,  served  at  last,  after  four 
centuries,  to  nourish  the  faithful,  as  iu  the  time  of  the 
Apostles,  "iu  the  words  of  faith  and  of  good  doctrine." 


CHAPTER  IX 

Keaction  preparing— Failure  of  the  Plot— Parol  iu  Valangin  and  near  the 
Lake — De  Bely  at  Fontaine — Farel's  Sntferings — Marcourt  at  Valangin 
— Disgi-accful Expedient— Vengeance— The  Reform Eatabliahed-French 
Switzerland  characterized— Gathering  Tempest. 

The  convention,  drawn  up  under  the  mediation  of 
Berne,  stipulated  that  "  the  change  should  take  place 
only  in  the  city  and  parish  of  Neufchatel."  Must  the 
rest  of  the  country  remain  in  darkness?  This  was  not 
Farel's  wish,  and  the  zeal  of  the  citizens,  iu  its  first 
fervour,  etfectually  seconded  him.  They  visited  the 
surrounding  villages,  exhorting  some,  combating  others. 
Those  who  were  compelled  to  labour  with  their  hands 
during  the  day  went  thither  at  night.  "Now,  I  am 
informed,"  writes  the  governor  to  the  princess,  "  that 
they  are  working  at  a  reformation  night  and  day." 

George  de  Eive,  in  alarm,  convoked  the  magistrates 
of  all  the  districts  in  the  earldom.  These  good  folks 
believed  that  their  consciences,  as  well  as  their  places, 
depended  upon  Madame  de  Longueville.  Affrighted 
at  the  thought  of  freely  receiving  a  new  conviction 
fi'om  the  Word  of  God,  they  were  quite  ready  to 
accept  it  from  the  countess  as  they  would  a  new  im- 
post;— a  sad  helolism,  in  which  religion  springs  from 
the  soil,  instead  of  descending  from  heaven !  "  We 
desire  to  live  and  die  under  the  protection  of  our  Lady," 
said  the  magistrates  to  the  lord  of  Eive,  "  without 
changing  the  ancient  faith,  until  it  he  so  ordered  by  her." 
Home,  eveu  after  her  fall,  could  not  receive  a  deeper 
insult. 


These  assurances  of  fidelity  and  the  absence  of  the 
Bernese  restored  De  Rive's  confidence,  and  he  secretly 
prepared  a  reaction  among  the  nobles  and  the  lower 
classes.  There  is  in  every  historical  catastrophe,  in 
the  fall  of  groat  establishments,  and  in  the  spectacle  of 
their  ruins,  something  which  excites  and  improves  the 
mind.  This  was  what  happened  at  the  period  in  ques- 
tion. Some  were  more  zealous  for  Popery  after  its  fall 
than  in  its  day  of  power.  The  clergy  gliding  into  the 
houses  said  mass  to  a  few  friends  mysteriously  called 
together  around  a  temjiorary  altar.  If  a  child  was 
born,  the  priest  noiselessly  arrived,  breathed  on  the  in- 
fant, made  the  sign  of  the  cross  on  its  forehead  and 
breast,  and  baptized  it  according  to  the  Roman  ritual. 
Thus  they  were  rebuilding  iu  secret  what  had  been 
overthrown  iu  the  light  of  day.  At  length  a  counter- 
revolution was  agreed  upon ;  and  Christmas-day  was 
selected  for  the  restoration  of  Roman  Catholicism. 
While  the  Christians'  songs  of  joy  should  be  rising  to 
heaven,  the  partisans  of  Rome  were  to  rush  into  the 
chnrch,  expel  the  heretical  assembly,  overthrow  the 
pulpit  and  the  holy  table,  restore  the  images,  and  cele- 
brate the  mass  in  triumph.  Such  was  the  plan  of  the 
Neufchatelau  vespers. 

The  plot  got  wind.  Deputies  from  Berne  arrived  at 
Neufchatel  on  the  very  eve  of  the  festival.  "You 
must  see  to  this,"  said  they  to  the  governor:  if  the 
reformed  are  attacked,  we,  their  co-bui'ghers,  will  pro- 
tect them  with  all  our  power."  The  conspirators  laid 
down  their  ai-ms,  and  the  Christmas  hymns  were  not 
disturbed. 

This  signal  deliverance  augmented  the  devotion  and 
zeal  of  the  friends  of  the  Gospel.  Already  Emer  Bey- 
nou  of  Serriere,  where  Farel  had  one  day  landed  from 
a  small  boat,  ascending  the  pulpit,  had  said  to  his 
parishioners :  "  If  I  have  been  a  good  priest,  I  desire 
by  the  grace  of  God  to  be  a  still  better  pastor."  It 
was  necessary  for  these  words  to  be  heard  from  every 
pulpit.  Farel  recommenced  a  career  of  laboui's,  fatigues, 
and  struggles,  which  the  actions  of  the  apostles  aud 
missionaries  alone  can  equal. 

Towards  the  end  of  the  year  1530,  he  crossed  the 
mountain  in  the  middle  of  winter,  entered  the  church 
of  Yalangin,  went  into  the  pulpit,  and  began  to  preach 
at  the  very  moment  that  Guillemette  de  Vergy  was 
coming  to  mass.  She  endeavoured  to  shut  the  re- 
former's mouth,  but  in  vain,  and  the  aged  aud  noble 
dowager  retired  precipitately,  saying:  "I  do  not  think 
this  is  according  to  the  old  Gospels  ;  if  there  are  any 
new  ones  that  encourage  it,  I  am  quite  amazed."  The 
peo])le  of  Valangiu  embraced  the  Gospel.  The  af- 
frighted lieutenaut  ran  to  Neufchatel,  thence  to  Berne, 
aud  on  the  11th  February,  1531,  laid  his  complaint 
before  the  council ;  but  all  was  useless.  "  Why,"  said 
their  excellencies  of  Berne  to  him,  "  why  should  you 
disturb  the  water  of  the  river?  let  it  flow  freely  on." 

Farel  immediately  turned  to  the  parishes  on  the 
slopes  between  the  lake  aud  Mount  Jura.  At  Cor- 
celles  a  fanatic  crowd,  well  armed  and  led  on  by  the 
curate  of  Neufchatel,  rushed  into  the  church  where  the 
minister  was  preaching,  and  he  did  not  escape  without 
a  wound.  At  Bcvay,  the  abbot  John  of  Livron  and 
his  monks  collected  a  numerous  body  of  friends,  sur- 
rounded the  church,  and  having  thus  completed  the 


DE  BELY  AT  FONTAINE— FAREL'S  SUFFERINGS. 


blockade,  catered  the  buikling,  dragged  the  miuistei 
from  the  puli)it,  aud  drove  liiiii  out  with  blows  and 
insults.  Eucii  time  he  reappeared,  they  pursued  him 
ns  far  as  Auvernier  with  stones  aud  gunshots. 

While  Farel  was  thus  preaching  iu  the  plain,  he  sent 
one  of  his  brethren  into  the  valley:  it  was  John  de 
Ucly,  a  man  of  good  family  from  Crest  in  Dauphiny. 
IJeyond  Valangin,  at  a  little  distance  from  Fontaine, 
on  the  left  side  of  the  road  to  Cernier,  was  a  stone 
that  remains  to  this  day.  Here  in  the  open  air,  as  if 
in  a  magnificent  temple,  this  herald  of  the  Gospel  be- 
gan to  proclaim  salvation  by  grace.'  Before  him 
stretched  the  declivity  of  Chaumont,  dotted  with  the 
pretty  villages  of  Fenin,  Villars,  Sole,  and  Savaguier; 
and  beyond,  where  the  mountains  fell  away,  might  be 
seen  the  distant  and  picturesque  chain  of  the  Alps. 
The  most  zealous  of  his  hearers  entreated  him  to  enter 
the  church.  He  did  so ;  but  suddenly  the  priest  and 
his  curate  "arrived  with  gi-eat  noise."  They  proceeded 
to  the  pulpit,  dragged  Bely  down ;  and  then  turning  to 
the  women  and  young  persons  of  the  place,  "excited 
them  to  boat  him  and  drive  him  away." 

John  do  Bcly  returned  to  Neufchatel,  hooted  and 
bruised,  like  his  friend  after  the  affair  at  Valangin  ; 
but  these  evangelists  followed  the  traces  of  the  Apostle 
Paul,  whom  neither  whips  nor  scourges  could  arrest. 
Do  Bely  often  returned  to  Fontaine.  The  mass  was 
abolished  erelong  in  this  village :  Bely  was  its  pastor 
for  twenty-seven  years ;  his  descendants  have  more 
than  once  exercised  the  ministry  there,  and  now  they 
form  the  most  numerous  family  of  agi-iciilturists  in  the 
place. 

Farel,  after  evangelizing  the  shores  of  the  lake  to 
the  south  of  Neufchatel,  had  gone  to  the  north  and 
preached  at  St.  Blaise.  The  populace,  stirred  up  by 
the  priests  and  the  lieutenant,  had  fallen  upon  him, 
and  Farel  escaped  from  their  hands,  severely  beaten, 
spitting  blood,  aud  scarcely  to  be  recognised.  His 
friends  had  thrown  him  hurriedly  into  a  boat,  and  con- 
veyed him  to  Morat,  where  his  wounds  detained  him 
for  some  time. 

At  the  report  of  this  violence  the  reformed  Neuf- 
chatclans  felt  their  blood  boil.  If  the  lieutenant,  the 
priest,  and  his  flock,  have  bruised  the  body  of  Christ's 
servant,  which  is  truly  the  altar  of  the  living  God, 
why  should  they  spare  dead  idols  ?  Immediately  they 
rnsli  to  St.  Blaise,  throw  down  the  images,  and  do  the 
same  at  the  abbey  of  Fontaine-Andre, — a  sanctuary  of 
the  ancient  worship. 

The  images  still  existed  at  Valangin,  but  their  last 
hour  was  about  to  strike.  A  Frenchman,  Anthony 
Marcourt,  had  been  nominated  pastor  of  Neufchatel. 
Treading  in  Farel's  footsteps,  he  repaired  with  a  few 
of  the  citizens  to  Valangin  on  the  14th  June,  a  gi-eat 
holiday  in  that  town.*  Scarcely  had  they  arrived  when 
a  numerous  crowd  pressed  around  the  minister,  listen- 
ing to  his  words.  The  canons,  who  were  on  the  watch 
in  their  houses,  and  Madame  de  Vergy  and  M.  de 

1  It  doc3  not  appear  that  Bely  could  have  stood  and  preached  on  thia 
stone,  as  is  generally  said,  unless  what  now  remains  is  but  a  fragment  of 
tJic  original. 

s  This  incident  is  generally  attributed  to  Faiel,  but  Choupard,  following 
an  older  manuscript,  says  It  minUtre  de  XcK/'^alcl,  by  which  title  he  always 
means  Marcourt,  and  never  Faiel. 


Bclicgarde  from  then-  towers,  .sought  how  they  could 
make  a  diversion  against  this  heretical  preaching.' 
They  could  not  employ  force  because  of  Berne.  They 
hud  recourse  to  a  brutal  expedient,  worthy  of  the 
darkest  days  of  Popery,  and  which,  by  insulting  the 
minister,  might  divert  (they  imagined)  the  attention  of 
the  people,  and  change  it  into  shouts  and  laughter.  A 
canon,' assisted  by  the  countess's  coachman,  went  to 
the  stables  and  took  thence  two  auimals,  which  they 
led  to  the  spot  where  Marcourt  was  preaching.  We 
will  throw  a  veil  over  this  scene :  it  is  one  of  those 
disgraceful  subjects  that  the  pen  of  history  refuses  to 
transcribe.  But  never  did  ])uuishment  follow  closer 
upon  crime.  The  conscience  of  the  hearers  was  aroused 
at  the  sight  of  this  infamous  spectacle.  The  torrent, 
that  such  a  proceeding  was  intended  to  check,  rushed 
out  of  its  channel.  The  indignant  people,  undertaking 
the  defence  of  that  religion  which  their  opponents  had 
wished  to  insult,  entered  the  church  like  an  avenging 
wave ;  the  ancient  windows  were  broken,  the  shields 
of  the  lords  wore  demolished,  the  relics  scattered  about, 
the  books  torn,  the  images  thrown  down,  and  the  altar 
overturned.  But  this  was  not  enough :  the  popular 
wave,  after  sweeping  out  the  church,  flowed  back 
again,  and  dashed  against  the  canons'  houses.  Their 
inhabitants  fled  in  consternation  into  the  forests,  aud 
everything  was  destroyed  iu  their  dwellings. 

Guillemette  de  Vergy  aud  M.  de  Bellegarde,  agitated 
and  trembling  behind  their  battlements,  repented,  but 
too  late,  of  their  monstrous  expedient.  They  were  the 
only  ones  who  had  not  yet  felt  the  popular  vengeance. 
Their  restless  eyes  watched  the  motions  of  the  indig- 
nant townspeople.  The  work  is  completed:  the  last 
house  is  sacked!  The  burghers  consult  together. — 
O  horror ! — they  turn  towards  the  castle, — they  ascend 
the  hill, — they  draw  near.  Is,  then,  the  abode  of  the 
noble  counts  of  Arberg  about  to  be  laid  waste?  But 
no  I — "  We  come,"  said  the  delegates  standing  near  the 
gate  of  the  castle, — "we  are  come  to  demand  justice 
for  the  outrage  committed  against  religion  and  its  minis- 
ter." They  are  permitted  to  enter,  aud  the  trembling 
countess  orders  the  poor  wretches  to  be  punished  who 
had  acted  solely  by  her  orders.  But  at  the  same  time 
she  sends  deputies  to  Berne,  complaining  of  the  "great 
insults  that  had  been  offered  her."  Berne  declared 
that  the  reformed  should  pay  for  the  damage ;  but  that 
the  countess  should  grant  them  the  free  exercise  of 
their  worship.  Jacques  Veluzat,  a  native  of  Cham- 
pagne, was  the  first  pastor  of  Valangin.  A  little 
later  we  shall  see  new  struggles  at  the  foot  of  Mount 
Jura. 

Thus  was  the  Reformation  established  at  Valangin, 
as  it  had  been  at  Neufchatel :  the  two  capitals  of  these 
mountains  were  gained  to  the  Gospel.  Erelong  it  re- 
ceived a  legal  sanction.  Francis,  marquis  of  Rotheliu, 
son  of  the  Duchess  of  Longueville,  arrived  in  the 
principality  in  March,  15.31,  with  the  intention  of 
playing  on  this  small  theatre  the  part  of  a  Francis  I. 
But  he  soon  found  out  that  there  are  revolutions  which 
an  irresistible  hand  has  accomplished,  and  that  must 
be  submitted  to.     Rothelin  excluded  from  the  estates 

3  Some  histori.ins  say  '*  the  coatdmtan  of  the  countess ; "  but  Choupai-d, 
on  three  different  occasions,  writes  a  canon.  The  latter  is  no  doubt  more 
revolting;  but  there  is  nothing  incredible  in  it 


HISTORY  OP  THE  REFORMATION. 


of  the  earldom  the  canous  who  had  hitherto  formed  the 
first  power,  and  replaced  them  by  four  bannerets  and 
four  burgesses.  Then,  availing  himself  of  the  principle 
that  all  abandoned  property  falls  to  the  state,  he  laid 
his  hands  upon  their  rich  heritage,  and  proclaimed 
freedom  of  conscience  throughout  the  whole  country. 
All  the  necessary  forms  having  been  observed  with 
Madame,  the  politic  M.  de  Rive  became  reformed  also. 
Such  was  the  su])port  Rome  received  from  the  state, 
to  which  she  had  looked  for  her  deliverance. 

A  great  energy  characterized  the  Reformation  of 
French  Switzerland ;  and  this  is  shewn  by  the  events 
we  have  just  witnessed.  Men  have  attributed  to  Farel 
this  distinctive  feature  of  his  work ;  but  no  man  has 
e\  3r  created  his  own  times ;  it  is  always,  on  the  con- 
trary, the  times  that  create  the  man.  The  greater  the 
epoch,  the  less  do  individualities  prevail  in  it.  All  the 
good  contained  in  the  events  we  have  just  related  came 


from  that  Almighty  Spu-it,  of  which  the  strongest  men 
are  but  weak  instruments.  All  the  evil  proceeded  from 
the  character  of  the  people ;  and,  indeed,  it  was  almost 
always  Popery  that  began  these  scenes  of  violence. 
Farel  submitted  to  the  influence  of  his  times,  rather 
than  the  times  received  his.  A  great  man  may  be  the 
personification  and  the  type  of  the  epoch  for  which 
God  destines  him  :  he  is  never  its  creator. 

But  it  is  time  to  quit  the  Jura  and  its  beautiful 
valleys,  brightened  by  the  vernal  sun,  to  direct  our 
steps  towards  the  Alps  of  German  Switzerland,  along 
which  thick  clouds  and  horrible  tempests  are  gathering. 
The  free  and  courageous  people,  who  dwell  there  below 
the  eternal  glaciers,  or  on  the  smiling  banks  of  the 
lakes,  daily  assume  a  fiercer  aspect,  and  the  collision 
threatens  to  be  sudden,  violent,  and  terrible.  We  have 
just  been  witnessing  a  glorious  conquest :  a  dreadful 
catastrophe  awaits  us. 


CHRISTIAN  WARFARE. 


BOOK     XVL 


SWITZEllLAKD — CATASTROPHE. — 1528-1531. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Two  groat  Lessons— Christian  Warfare— Zwinglc,  Pastor,  Statesman,  and 
Goner.il— His  noble  Character— Persecutions— Swiss  Catliolics  seek  an 
Alliance  with  Austria— Great  Dissatisfiiction— Deputation  to  the  Forest 
Cantons— Zwingle's  Proposal— Moderation  of  Benie— Keyser's  Martyr- 
dom— Zwiugle  and  War- Zwingle's  Error. 

It  was  the  will  of  God  tliat  at  the  very  gates  of  His 
revived  Church  there  should  be  two  great  examples  to 
serve  as  lessous  for  future  generations.  Luther  and 
the  German  Reformation,  declining  the  aid  of  the 
temporal  jiower,  rejecting  the  force  of  arms,  and  look- 
ing for  victory  only  in  the  confession  of  the  truth,  were 
destined  to  see  their  faith  crowned  with  the  most  bril- 
liant success ;  while  Zwingle  and  the  Swiss  Reforma- 
tion, stretching  out  their  hands  to  the  mighty  ones  of 
the  earth,  and  grasping  the  sword,  were  fated  to  wit- 
ness a  horrible,  cruel,  and  bloody  catastrophe  fall  upon 
the  AVord  of  God — a  catastrophe  which  threatened  to 
engulf  the  evangelical  cause  iu  the  most  furious  whirl- 
pool. God  is  a  jealous  God,  and  gives  not  His  glory 
to  another ;  He  claims  to  perform  His  own  work  him- 
self, and  to  attain  His  ends  sets  other  springs  in  motion 
than  those  of  a  skilful  diplomacy. 

AVe  are  far  from  forgetting  that  we  are  called  upon 
to  relate  facts  and  not  to  discuss  theories ;  but  there  is 
a  principle  which  the  history  we  are  narrating  sets 
forth  iu  ca])ital  letters :  it  is  that  professed  in  the 
Gospel,  where  it  says:  The  weapons  ok  our  war- 

FAUE   ARE   NOT   CARNAL,  BUT  MIGHTY   TIlROUGn    GOD  ! 

1  In  maintaining  this  truth  we  do  not  place  ourselves  on 
the  ground  of  any  particular  school,  but  on  that  of 
universal  conscience  and  of  the  Word  of  God. 

Of  all  carnal  support  that  religion  can  invoke,  there 
is  none  more  injurious  to  it  than  arms  and  diplomacy. 
The  latter  throws  it  into  tortuous  ways;  the  former 
hurries  it  info  paths  of  bloodshed ;  and  religion,  from 
whose  brow  has  been  torn  the  double  wreath  of  truth 
and  meekness,  presents  but  a  degraded  and  humiliated 
countenauce  that  no  person  can,  that  no  person  desires 
to  recognise. 

It  was  the  \ery  extension  of  the  Reform  in  Switzer- 
land that  exposed  it  to  the  dangers  under  which  it 
sunk.  So  long  as  it  was  concentrated  at  Zurich,  it 
continued  a  religious  matter ;  but  when  it  had  gained 
Berne,  Bale,  Schaffhausen,  St.  Gall,  Glaris,  Appenzell, 
and  numerous  bailiwicks,  it  formed  inter-cantonal  rela- 
tions ;  and — here  was  the  error  and  misfortune — while 
the  connection  should  have  taken  place  between  church 
and  church,  it  was  formed  between  state  and  state. 

As  soon  as  spiritual  and  political  matters  became 
mingled  together,  the  latter  took  the  upperhand. 
Zwingle  erelong  thought  it  his  duty  to  examine  not 
only   doctrinal,    but   also    federal   questions;   and  the 


illustrious  reformer  might  be  seen,  unconscious  of  the 
snares  beneath  his  feet,  precipitating  himself  into  a 
course  strewn  with  rocks,  at  the  end  of  which  a  cruel 
death  awaited  him. 

The  primitive  Swiss  cantons  had  resigned  the  right 
of  forming  new  alliances  without  the  consent  of  all ; 
but  Zurich  and  Berne  had  reserved  the  power.  Zwingle 
thought  himself  therefore  cpiite  at  liberty  to  promote 
an  alliance  with  the  evangelical  states.  Constance 
was  the  first  city  that  gave  her  adhesion.  But  this 
Christian  co-burghery,  which  might  become  the  germ 
of  a  new  confederation,  immediately  raised  up  numer- 
ous adversaries  against  Zwingle,  even  among  the  par- 
tisans of  the  Reformation. 

There  was  yet  time:  Zwiugle  might  withdraw 
from  public  affairs,  and  occupy  himself  entirely  with 
those  of  the  Gospel.  But  no  one  iu  Zurich  had,  like 
him,  that  application  to  labour,  that  correct,  keen,  and 
sure  eye,  so  necessary  for  politicians.  If  he  retired, 
the  vessel  of  the  state  would  be  left  without  a  pilot. 
Besides,  he  was  convinced  that  political  acts  alone 
could  save  the  Reform.  He  resolved,  therefore,  to  be 
at  one  and  the  same  time  the  man  of  the  State  and 
of  the  Church.  The  registers  prove  that  in  his  later 
years  he  took  part  in  the  most  important  deliberations ; 
and  he  was  commissioned  by  the  councils  of  his  can- 
ton to  write  letters,  compose  proclamations,  and  draw 
up  opinions.  Already,  before  the  dispute  with  Berne, 
looking  upon  war  as  possible,  he  had  traced  out  a  very 
detailed  plan  of  defence,  the  manuscript  of  which  is 
still  in  existence.  In  1528  he  did  still  more;  he  shewed, 
in  a  remarkable  paper,  how  the  republic  should  act 
with  regard  to  the  empire,  France,  and  other  European 
states,  and  with  respect  to  the  several  cantons  and 
bailiwicks.  Then,  as  if  he  had  grown  grey  at  the  head 
of  the  Helvetic  troops,  (and  it  is  but  just  to  remark  that 
he  had  long  lived  among  soldiers,)  he  explained  the 
advantages  there  would  be  in  surprising  the  enemy; 
and  described  even  the  nature  of  the  arms,  and  the 
manner  of  employing  them.  In  truth,  an  important 
revolution  was  then  taking  place  in  the  art  of  war. 
The  pastor  of  Zurich  is  at  once  the  head  of  the  state 
and  general  of  the  army:  this  double — this  triple  part 
of  the  reformer  was  the  ruin  of  the  Reformation  and 
of  himself.  Undoubtedly  we  must  make  allowances 
for  the  men  of  this  age,  who,  being  accustomed  to  see 
Rome  wield  two  swords  for  so  many  centuries,  did  not 
understand  that  they  must  take  up  one  and  leave  the 
other.  We  must  admire  the  strength  of  that  superior 
genius,  which,  while  pursuing  a  political  course,  in 
which  the  greatest  minds  would  have  been  absorbed, 
ceased  not,  however,  to  display  an  indefatigable  activity 
as  pastor,  preacher,  divine,  and  author.  We  must 
acknowledge  that  the  republican  education  of  Zwiugle 


HISTORY  OP  THE  EEFORMATION. 


had  taiiglit  liim  to  confound  his  country  with  his 
religion,  and  tliat  there  was  in  this  great  man  enough 
to  iill  up  many  lives.  We  must  appreciate  that  indomi- 
table courage  which,  relying  upon  justice,  feared  not,  at 
a  time  when  Zurich  had  but  one  or  two  weak  cities  for 
allies,  to  confront  the  redoubtable  forces  of  the  empire 
and  of  the  confederation  ;  but  we  should  also  see  in  the 
great  and  terrible  lesson  that  God  gave  him,  a  precept 
for  all  times  and  every  nation ;  and  finally,  understand 
what  is  often  forgotten,  that  the  kinr/dom  of  Christ  is  not 
of  this  woi-ld. 

The  Roman  Catholic  cantons,  on  hearing  of  the  new 
alliances  of  the  reformed,  felt  a  violent  indignation. 
William  of  Diesbach,  deputy  from  Berne  at  the  diet, 
was  forced  to  submit  to  the  keenest  reproaches.  The 
sitting,  for  a  while  interrupted,  was  resumed  imme- 
diately after  his  departure.  "  They  may  try  to  patch 
up  the  old  faith,"  said  the  Bernese,  as  he  withdrew ; 
"  it  cannot,  however,  last  any  longer."  In  truth,  they 
patched  away  with  all  their  might,  but  with  a  sharp 
and  envenomed  needle  that  drew  blood.  Joseph  Am 
Berg  of  Schwytz  and  Jacques  Stocker  of  Zug,  bailiffs 
of  Thurgovia,  behaved  with  cruelty  towards  all  who 
were  attached  to  tlie  Gospel.  They  enforced  against 
them  fines,  imprisonment,  torture,  the  scourge,  confis- 
cation, and  banishment ;  they  cut  out  the  ministers' 
tongues,  beheaded  them,  or  condemned  them  to  be 
burnt.  At  the  same  time  they  took  away  the  Bibles  and 
all  the  evangelical  books ;  and  if  any  poor  Lutherans, 
fleeing  from  Austria,  crossed  the  Rhine  and  that  low 
valley  where  its  calm  waters  flow  between  the  Alps  of 
the  Tyrol  and  of  Ajipenzell — if  these  poor  creatures, 
tracked  by  the  lansquenets,  came  to  seek  a  refuge  in 
Switzerland,  they  were  cruelly  given  up  to  their  perse- 
cutors. 

The  heavier  lay  the  hands  of  the  bailiffs  on  Thur- 
govia and  the  Rheinthal,  the  greater  conquests  did  the 
Gospel  make.  The  Bishop  of  Constance  wrote  to  the 
Five  Cantons,  that  if  they  did  not  act  with  firmness, 
all  the  country  would  embrace  the  Reform.  In  conse- 
quence of  this,  the  cantons  convoked  at  Frauenfeld  all 
tlie  prelates,  nobles,  judges,  and  persons  of  note  in  the 
district ;  and  a  second  meeting  taking  place  six  days 
after  (Gth  December,  1528)  at  Weinfeld,  deputies  from 
Berne  and  Zurich  entreated  the  assembly  to  consider 
the  honour  of  God  above  all  things,  and  in  no  respect 
to  care  for  the  threats  of  the  world.  A  great  agitation 
followed  upon  this  discourse.  At  last  a  majority  called 
for  the  preaching  of  the  Word  of  God;  the  people 
came  to  the  same  decision  ;  and  the  Rheinthal,  as  well 
as  Bremgarten,  followed  this  example. 

AVhat  was  to  be  done?  The  flood  had  become 
hourly  more  encroaching.  Must,  then,  the  Forest  Can- 
tons open  their  valleys  to  it  at  last  1  Religious  anti- 
jsathies  put  an  end  to  national  antipathies ;  and  these 
proud  mountaineers,  directing  their  looks  beyond  the 
Rhine,  thought  of  invoking  the  succour  of  Austria, 
which  they  had  vanquished  at  Morgarten  and  at  Sem- 
pach.  The  fanatical  German  party  that  had  crushed 
the  revolted  Swabian  peasants  was  all-powerful  on  the 
frontiers.  Letters  were  exchanged ;  messengers  passed 
to  and  fro  across  the  river;  at  last  they  took  advantage 
of  a  wedding  in  high  rank  that  was  to  take  place  at 
Feldkirch  in  Swabia,  six  leagues  from  Appenzell.     On 


the  16th  February,  1529,  the  marriage-party,  forming 
a  brilliant  cavalcade,  in  the  midst  of  which  the  depu- 
ties of  the  Five  Cantons  were  concealed,  made  their 
entry  into  Feldkirch,  and  Am  Berg  had  an  immediate 
interview  with  the  Austrian  governor.  "  The  power 
of  the  enemies  of  our  ancient  faith  has  so  increased," 
said  the  Swiss,  "that  the  friends  of  the  Church  can 
resist  them  no  longer.  We  therefore  turn  our  eyes  to 
that  illustrious  prince  who  has  saved  in  Germany  the 
faith  of  our  fathers." 

This  alliance  was  so  very  unnatural,  that  the  Austrlans 
had  some  difliculty  in  believing  it  to  be  sincere.  "  Take 
hostages,"  said  the  Waldstettes,  "  write  the  articles  of 
the  treaty  with  your  own  hands ;  command  and  we  will 
obey!" — "Very  good!"  replied  the  Austriaus;  "in  two 
months  you  will  find  us  again  at  Waldshut,  and  we  will 
let  you  know  our  conditions." 

A  rumour  of  these  negotiations  which  spread  abroad 
excited  great  dissatisfaction,  even  in  the  partisans  of 
Rome.  lu  no  place  did  it  burst  out  with  greater  force 
than  in  the  council  of  Zug.  The  opposing  parties  were 
violently  agitated  ;  they  stamped  their  feet,  they  started 
from  their  seats,  and  were  nearly  coming  to  blows ; 
but  hatred  prevailed  over  patriotism.  The  deputies  of 
the  Forest  Cantons  appeared  at  Waldshut,  they  sus- 
pended the  arms  of  their  cantons  by  the  side  of  those 
of  the  oppressors  of  Switzerland ;  decorated  their  hats 
with  peacocks'  feathers,  (the  badge  of  Austria,)  and 
laughed,  drank,  and  chattered  with  the  Imperialists. 
This  strange  alliance  was  at  last  concluded.  "  Who- 
ever shall  form  new  sects  among  the  peoi)le,"  it  ran, 
"  shall  be  punished  with  death ;  and,  if  need  be,  with 
the  help  of  Austria.  This  power,  in  case  of  emergency, 
shall  send  into  Switzerland  six  thousand  foot  soldiers, 
and  four  hundred  horse,  with  all  requisite  artillery.  If 
necessary,  the  reformed  cantons  shall  be  blockaded,  and 
all  provisions  intercepted."  To  the  Romish  cantons, 
then,  belongs  the  initiative  of  this  measure  so  much 
decried.  Finally,  Austria  guaranteed  to  the  Wald- 
stettes the  possession,  not  only  of  the  common  baili- 
wicks, but  of  all  the  conquests  that  might  be  made  on 
the  left  bank  of  the  Rhine. 

Dejection  and  consternation  immediately  pervaded 
all  Switzerland.  This  national  complaint,  which 
Bullinger  has  preserved,  was  sung  in  every  direc- 
tion : — 

Wail,  Helvetians,  wail, 

For  the  peacock's  plume  of  prido 
To  tlie  Forest  Cantons'  savago  I)"ll 

In  friendsliiiJ  is  allied. 

All  the  cantons  not  included  in  this  alliance,  with 
the  exception  of  Friburg,  assembled  in  diet  at  Zurich, 
and  resolved  to  send  a  deputation  to  their  mountain 
confederates,  with  a  view  to  reconciliation.  The  de- 
putation, admitted  at  Schwytz  in  the  jiresence  of  the 
people,  was  able  to  execute  its  mission  without  tumult. 
At  Zug  there  was  a  cry  of  "No  sermon!  no  sermon  !" 
At  Altorf  the  answer  was :  "  Would  to  God  that  your 
new  faith  was  buried  for  ever!"  At  Lucerne  they 
received  this  haughty  i-eply:  "  We  shall  know  how  to 
defend  ourselves,  our  children,  and  our  children's  chil- 
dren, from  the  poison  of  your  I'ebellious  priests."  It 
was  at  Unterwalden  that  the  deputation  met  with  the 
worst  reception.    "We  declare  our  alliance  at  an  end," 


ZWINGLE  AND  WAR. 


said  tlicj'.  "  It  is  wc, — it  is  tlic  other  'Waldstettcs  who 
are  tiie  real  Swiss.  Wc  graciously  admitted  you  into 
our  coufederation,  and  now  you  claim  to  become  our 
masters ! — Tlie  emperor,  Austria,  France,  Savoy,  and 
Vahiis  will  assist  us ! "  The  deputies  retired  in  as- 
toiiishmout,  shuddering  as  they  passed  before  the 
house  of  tlic  secretary  of  state,  wlierc  they  saw  the 
arms  of  Zurich,  Berne,  Bfde,  and  Strasburg,  hanging 
from  a  lofty  gibbet. 

The  deputation  had  scarcely  returned  to  Zurich  and 
made  their  report,  when  men's  minds  were  inflamed. 
Zwingle  proposed  to  grant  no  peace  to  Unterwaldcn, 
if  it  would  not  renounce  foreign  service,  the  alliance 
with  Austria,  and  the  government  of  the  common  baili- 
wicks. "No!  no!"  said  Berne,  that  had  just  stilled 
a  civil  war  in  its  own  canton,  "let  us  not  be  so  hasty. 
When  the  rays  of  the  sun  shine  forth,  each  one  wishes 
to  set  out ;  but  as  soon  a.s  it  begins  to  rain,  every  man 
loses  heart !  The  Word  of  God  enjoins  peace.  It  is 
not  with  pikes  and  lances  that  faith  is  made  to  enter 
the  heart.  For  this  re;\sou,  in  the  name  of  our  Lord's 
sufferings,  we  entreat  you  to  moderate  your  anger." 

This  Christian  exhortation  would  have  succeeded,  if 
the  fearful  news  that  reached  Zurich,  on  the  very  day 
when  the  Bernese  delivered  their  moderate  speecli,  had 
uot  rendered  it  unavailing. 

On  Saturday,  the  22d  May,  Jacques  Keyser,  a  pastor 
and  father  of  a  family  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the 
(ireiffenscc,  after  coasting  the  fertile  shores  of  this 
litllo  lake,  crossed  the  rich  pastures  of  the  bailiwick  of 
( Jruningen,  passed  near  the  Teutonic  house  of  Bubikon 
and  the  convent  of  Ruti,  and  reached  that  simple  and 
wild  district  bathed  by  the  upper  part  of  Lake  Zurich. 
Jlaking  his  way  to  Oberkirk,  a  parish  in  the  Gaster 
district,  between  the  two  lakes  of  Zurich  and  Wallen- 
sladt,  of  which  he  had  been  nominated  pastor,  and 
where  he  was  to  preach  on  the  morrow,  he  crossed  on 
foot  the  lengthened  and  rounded  Hanks  of  the  Buch- 
berg,  fronting  the  picturesque  heights  of  the  Ammon. 
He  was  confidently  advancing  into  those  woods  which 
for  many  weeks  he  had  often  traversed  without  ob- 
struction, when  he  w-as  suddenly  seized  by  six  men, 
posted  there  to  surprise  him,  and  carried  off  to 
Schwytz.  "The  bailiffs,"  said  they  to  the  magistrates, 
"  have  ordered  all  innovating  ministers  to  be  brought 
before  tlie  tribunals:  here  is  one  that  wc  bring  you." 
Although  Zurich  and  Glaris  interposed ;  although 
the  government  of  Gaster,  where  Kc3-ser  had  been 
taken,  did  not  then  belong  to  Schwytz;  the  lands- 
gemeinde  desired  a  victim,  and  on  the  29th  May, 
tliey  condemned  the  minister  to  be  burnt  alive.  On 
beitig  informed  of  his  sentence,  Keyser  burst  into  tears, 
liut  wlien  the  hour  of  execution  arrived  he  walked 
cheerfully  to  death,  freely  confessed  his  faith,  and 
gave  thanks  to  the  Lord  even  witii  his  latest  breatii. 
"Go  and  tell  them  at  Zurich  how  he  thanks  lis!"  said 
one  of  the  Schwytz  magistrates,  with  a  sarcastic  smile, 
to  the  Zurich  deputies.  Thus  had  a  fresh  martyr 
fallen  under  the  hands  of  that  formidable  power  that 
is  drunk  icit/i  the  blood  of  the  saints. 

The  cup  was  full.  The  flames  of  Keyscr's  pile  be- 
came the  signal  of  war.  Exasperated  Zurich  uttered 
a  cry  that  resounded  through  all  the  confederation. 
Zwingle,    above    all,    called  for   energetic   mejisures. 


Everywhere, — in  the  streets,  in  the  councils,  and  even 
in  the  pulpits, — he  surpassed  in  daring  even  the  most 
valiant  captains.  He  spoke  at  Zurich, — he  wrote  to 
Berne.  "Let  us  be  firm,  and  fear  not  to  take  up  arms," 
said  he.  "This  peace,  which  some  desire  so  niucli,  is 
not  peace,  but  war:  while  the  war  that  wc  call  for  is 
not  war,  but  peace.  Wo  thirst  for  no  man's  blood,  but 
we  will  clip  the  wings  of  the  oligarchy.  If  we  shun  it, 
the  truth  of  the  Gospel  and  the  miuisters'  lives  will 
never  be  secure  among  us." 

Thus  spoke  Zwingle.  In  every  part  of  Europe  he 
beheld  the  mighty  ones  of  the  earth  aiding  one  another 
to  stifle  the  reviving  animation  of  the  Church ;  and  he 
thought  that  without  some  decisive  and  energetic 
movement,  Christianity,  overwhelmed  by  so  many 
blows,  would  soon  fall  back  into  its  ancient  slavery. 
Luther  under  similar  circumstances  arrested  the  swords 
ready  to  be  crossed,  and  demanded  that  tlie  Word  of 
God  alone  should  appear  on  the  field  of  battle. 
Zwingle  thought  not  thus.  lu  his  opinion  war  was 
not  revolt,  for  Switzerland  had  no  master.  "  Un- 
doubtedly," said  he,  "we  must  trust  in  God  alone ;  but 
when  He  gives  us  a  just  cause,  we  must  also  know  how 
to  defend  it,  and  like  Joshua  and  Gideon,  shed  blood 
in  behalf  of  our  country  and  our  God." 

If  we  adopt  the  principles  of  justice  which  govern 
the  rulers  of  nations,  the  advice  of  Zwingle  was  judi- 
cious and  irreproachable.  It  was  the  duty  of  the 
Swiss  magistrates  to  defend  the  oppressed  against  the 
oppressor.  But  is  uot  such  language,  which  might 
have  been  suitable  in  the  mouth  of  a  magistrate, 
blamable  in  a  minister  of  Christ  ?  Perhaps  Zwingle 
forgot  his  quality  of  pastor,  and  considered  himself 
only  as  a  citizen,  consulted  by  his  fellow-citizens ; 
perhaps  he  wisiied  to  defend  Switzerland,  and  uot  the 
Church,  by  his  counsels;  but  it  is  a  question  if  he  ought 
ever  to  have  forgotten  the  Church  aud  his  ministry. 
We  think  we  may  go  even  further ;  and  while  grant- 
ing all  that  may  be  urged  in  favour  of  the  contrary 
supposition,  we  may  deny  that  tlie  secular  power 
ought  ever  to  interfere  with  the  sword  to  protect  the 
faith. 

To  accomplish  his  designs,  the  reformer  needed, 
even  in  Zurich,  the  greatest  unity.  But  there  were 
many  meu  in  that  city  devoted  to  interests  and  super- 
stitious which  were  opposed  to  him.  "  How  long," 
he  had  exclaimed  in  the  pulpit,  on  the  1st  December, 
1528,  "how  long  will  you  support  in  the  council  these 
unbelievers,  these  impious  men,  who  oppose  tlie  AV^ord 
of  God?"  They  had  decided  upon  purging  the  coun- 
cil, as  required  by  the  reformer  ;  they  had  examined 
the  citizens  iudividually ;  and  then  had  excluded  all 
the  hostile  members. 


CHAPTER  IL 

Free  Picaoliingof  thcGosp  1  n.  ■  i;    us  the  Common 

li:uli\vicks— M'ar— Zwin                                  .  AniiyThreatens 

Zus— TlicI.an.lammanA.                                    ,  ■     ,1 ..  lu-lc'sOpposi- 

liun-Swiss  L'urdiaiitj— <,n  : i      ^  '    'iif.ieuce— Peace 

Restored— Austrian   Treaty  iDm-Zwiu^lt'a  ll.vmu— Xuns    of   Saint 
Catliorinc. 

On  Saturday,  the  15th  June,  1529,  seven  days  after 


524 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


Keyser's  martyrdom,  all  Zuricli  was  in  commotion. 
The  moment  was  come  when  Unterwalden  should  send 
a  governor  to  the  common  bailiwicks ;  and  the  images, 
having  been  burnt  in  those  districts,  Unterwalden  had 
sworn  to  take  a  signal  revenge.  Thus  the  consterna- 
tion had  become  general.  "  Keyser's  pile,"  thought 
they,  "  will  be  rekindled  in  all  our  villages."  Many  of 
the  inhabitants  flocked  to  Zurich,  and  ou  their  alarmed 
and  agitated  features,  one  might,  in  imagination,  have 
seen  reflected  the  flames  that  had  just  consumed  the 
martyr. 

These  unhappy  people  found  a  powerful  advocate  in 
Zwingle.  The  reformer  imagined  that  he  had  at  last 
attained  the  object  he  never  ceased  to  pursue — the  free 
preaching  of  the  Gospel  in  Switzerland.  To  inflict  a 
linal  blow  would,  in  his  idea,  suftice  to  bring  this  enter- 
prise to  a  favourable  issue.  "  Greedy  pensioners,"  said 
Zwingle  to  the  Zurichers,  "profit  by  the  ignorance  of 


the  mountaineers  to  stir  up  these  simple  souls  against 
the  friends  of  the  Gospel.  Let  us  therefore  be  severe 
upon  these  haughty  chiefs.  The  mildness  of  the  lamb 
would  only  serve  to  render  the  wolf  more  ferocious. 
Let  us  propose  to  the  Five  Cantons  to  allow  the  free 
preaching  of  the  Woi-d  of  the  Lord,  to  renounce  their 
wicked  alliances,  and  to  punish  the  abettors  of  foreign 
service.  As  for  the  mass,  idols,  rites,  and  supersti- 
tions, let  no  one  be  forced  to  abandon  them.  It  is  for 
the  Word  of  God  alone  to  scatter  with  its  powerful 
bi-eath  all  this  idle  dust.  Be  firm,  noble  lords,  and  in 
despite  of  certain  black  horses,  as  black  at  Zurich  as 
they  are  at  Lucerne,  but  whose  malice  will  never  suc- 
ceed in  overturning  the  chariot  of  Reform,  we  shall 
clear  this  diflicult  pass,  and  arrive  at  the  unity  of 
Switzerland  and  at  unity  of  faith."  Thus  Zwingle, 
while  calling  for  force  against  political  abuses,  asked 
only  liberty  for  the  Gospel ;  but  he  desired  a  prompt 


intervention,  in  order  that  this  liberty  might  be  secured 
to  it.  O^colampadius  thought  the  same  :  "  It  is  not  a 
time  for  delay,"  said  he :  "  it  is  not  a  time  for  parsi- 
mony and  pusillanimity!  So  long  as  the  venom  shall 
not  be  utterly  removed  from  this  adder  in  our  bosoms 
we  shall  be  exposed  to  the  greatest  dangers. 

The  council  of  Zurich,  led  away  by  the  reformer, 
promised  the  bailiwicks  to  support  religious  liberty 
among  them ;  and  no  sooner  had  they  learnt  that 
Anthony  ab  Acker  of  Unterwalden  was  proceeding  to 
Baden  Avith  an  army,  than  they  ordered  five  hundred 
men  to  set  out  for  Bremgarten  with  four  pieces  of 
artilleiy.  This  was  the  5th  June,  and  on  the  same 
evening  the  standard  of  Zurich  waved  over  the  con- 
vent of  Mouri. 

The  war  of  religion  had  begun.  The  horn  of  the 
AYaldstettes  re-echoed  afar  in  the  mountains  :  men  were 
arming  in  every  direction,  and  messengers  were  sent 
off  in  haste  to  invoke  the  assistance  of  the  Valais  aud 
of  Austria.     Three  days  later,  (Tuesday,  the  8th  June,) 


six  hundred  Zurichers,  under  the  command  of  Jacques 
AVerdmiiller,  set  out  for  Rapperschwyl  and  the  district 
of  Gaster ;  and,  ou  the  morrow,  four  thousand  men 
repaired  to  Cappel,  imder  the  command  of  the  valiant 
Captain  George  Berguer,  to  whom  Conrad  Schmidt, 
pastor  of  Kussnacht,  had  been  appointed  chaplain. 
"  We  do  not  wish  you  to  go  to  the  war,"  said  Burgo- 
master Roust  to  Zwingle;  "for  the  pope,  the  Arch- 
duke Ferdinand,  the  Romish  cantons,  the  bishops,  the 
abbots,  aud  the  prelates,  hate  you  mortally.  Stay  with 
the  council:  we  have  need  of  you." — "No!"  rejilied 
Zwingle,  who  was  unwilling  to  confide  so  important  an 
enterprise  to  any  one  ;  "  when  my  brethren  expose  their 
lives  I  will  not  remain  quietly  at  home  by  my  fireside. 
Besides,  the  army  also  requires  a  watchful  eye,  that 
looks  continually  around  it."  Then,  taking  down  his 
glittering  halberd,  which  he  had  carried  (as  they  say) 
at  Marignan,  and  placing  it  on  his  shoulder,  the  re- 
former mounted  his  horse  and  set  out  with  the  army. 
The  walls,  towers,  and  battlements  were  covered  with 


ZWINGLE'S  OPPOSITION— SWISS  CORDIALITY. 


a  crowd  of  old  men,  children,  and  women,  among 
whom  was  Anna,  Zwingle's  wife. 

Zurich  li.ad  called  for  tho  aid  of  Berne ;  but  that 
city,  whose  inhabitants  shewed  little  disposition  for  a 
religious  war,  and  which  besides  was  not  pleased  at 
seeing  tho  increasing  influence  of  Zurich,  replied, 
"  Since  Zurich  has  begun  the  war  without  us,  let  her 
finish  it  in  like  manner."  The  evangelical  states  were 
disunited  at  the  very  moment  of  the  struggle. 

The  Romish  cantons  did  not  act  thus.  It  was  Zug 
that  issued  the  first  summons ;  and  the  men  of  Uri,  of 
Schwytz,  and  of  Unterwalden,  had  immediately  begun 
to  march.  On  the  8th  .June,  the  great  banner  floated 
before  tho  towuhouse  of  Lucerne,  and  on  the  next  day 
the  army  set  out  to  the  sound  of  the  autique  horns 
that  Lucerne  pretended  to  have  received  from  the 
Emperor  Charlemagne. 

On  the  10th  Juno,  the  Zurichers,  who  were  posted 
af  C.ippcl,  sent  a  herald  at  daybreak  to  Zug,  who  was 
(•omiiii-MoniMl,  according  to  custom,  to  denounce  to  the 
I'"i\c  Ciiiiiniis  ilie  rupture  of  the  alliance.  Immediately 
Ziii;-  was  lilLiI  with  cries  and  alarm.  Tills  canton,  the 
smallest  in  Switzerland,  not  having  yet  received  all  the 
confederate  contingents,  was  not  in  a  condition  to  de- 
fend itself.  Tho  people  ran  to  and  fro,  sent  off  mes- 
sengers, and  hastily  prepared  for  battle  ;  the  warriors 
fitted  on  their  armour,  the  women  shed  tears,  and  the 
children  shrieked. 

Already  the  first  division  of  the  Zurich  army,  amount- 
ing to  two  thousand  men,  under  the  command  of  "Wil- 
liam Thoming,  and  stationed  near  the  frontier  below 
Cappel,  was  preparing  to  march,  when  they  observed, 
in  the  direction  of  Baar,  a  horseman  pressing  the  flanks 
of  his  steed,  and  galloping  up  as  fast  as  the  mountain 
which  he  had  to  ascend  would  permit.  It  was  Aebli, 
landamnian  of  Claris.  "The  Five  Cantons  are  pre- 
pared," said  he,  as  he  arrived,  "  but  I  have  prevailed 
upon  them  to  halt,  if  you  will  do  the  same.  For  this 
reason  I  entreat  my  lords  and  the  people  of  Zurich,  for 
the  love  of  God  and  the  safety  of  the  confederation,  to 
suspend  their  march  at  the  present  moment."  As  he 
uttered  these  words,  the  brave  Helvetian  shed  tears. 
"  In  a  few  hours,"  continued  he,  "  I  shall  be  back 
again.  I  hope  with  God's  grace  to  obtain  an  honour- 
able peace,  and  to  prevent  our  cottages  from  being 
filled  with  widows  and  orphans." 

Aebli  was  known  to  be  an  honourable  man,  friendly 
to  the  Gospel,  and  opposed  to  foreign  service :  his 
words,  therefore,  moved  the  Zurich  captains,  who  re- 
solved to  halt.  Zw  ingle  alone,  motionless  and  uneasy, 
beheld  in  his  friend's  iutervention  the  machinations  of 
the  adversary.  Austria,  occupied  in  repelling  the 
Turks,  and  unable  to  succour  the  Five  Cantons,  had 
exhorted  them  to  peace.  This,  in  Zwingle's  opinion, 
was  the  cause  of  the  propositions  brought  to  them  by 
the  landamman  of  Glaris.  So  at  the  moment  Aebli 
turned  round  to  return  to  Zug,  Zwingle,  .approaching 
him,  said  with  earnestness:  "  Gossip  landamman,  you 
will  render  to  God  an  account  of  all  this.  Our  ad- 
versaries are  caught  in  a  sack ;  and  hence  they  give 
you  sweet  words.  By  and  by  they  will  fall  upon  us 
unawares,  and  tlicre  will  be  none  to  deliver  us." 
rrophclio  words,  whose  fulfilment  went  beyond  all 
foresight!     "Dear  gossip!"    replied   the   landamman, 


"  I  have  confidence  in  God  that  all  will  go  well.  Let 
each  one  do  his  best."    And  he  departed. 

The  army,  instead  of  advancing  upon  Zug,  now 
began  to  erect  tents  along  the  edge  of  the  forest  and 
the  brink  of  the  torrent,  a  few  paces  from  the  sentinels 
of  the  Five  Cantons  ;  while  Zwingle,  seated  in  his  tent, 
silent,  sad,  and  in  deep  thought,  anticipated  some  dis- 
tressing news  from  hour  to  hour. 

He  had  not  long  to  wait.  The  deputies  of  the 
Zurich  council  came  to  give  reality  to  his  fears.  Berne, 
maintaining  the  character  that  it  had  so  often  filled  as 
representative  of  the  federal  policy,  declared,  that  if 
Zurich  or  the  cantons  would  not  make  peace,  they 
would  find  means  to  compel  them :  this  state,  at  the 
same  time  convoked  a  diet  at  Aran,  and  sent  five 
thousand  men  into  the  field,  under  the  command  of 
Sebastian  Diesbach.  Zwingle  was  struck  with  constei'- 
natiou. 

Aebli's  message,  supported  by  that  of  Berne,  was 
sent  back  by  the  council  to  the  army;  for,  according 
to  the  principles  of  the  time,  "wherever  the  banner 
waves,  there  is  Zurich." — "  Let  us  not  be  staggered," 
cried  the  reformer,  ever  decided  and  firm  ;  "  our  des- 
tiny depends  upon  our  courage ;  to-day  they  beg  and 
entreat,  and  in  a  month,  when  we  have  laid  down  our 
arms,  tliey  will  crush  us.  Let  us  stand  firm  in  God. 
Before  all  things,  let  us  be  just :  peace  will  come  after 
that."  But  Zwingle,  transformed  to  a  statesman,  began 
to  lose  the  influence  which  he  had  gained  as  a  servant 
of  God.  Many  could  not  understand  him,  and  asked 
if  what  they  had  heard  was  really  the  language  of  a 
minister  of  the  Lord.  "  Ah  !"  said  one  of  his  friends, 
who  perhaps  knew  him  best,  Oswald  Myconius, 
"  Zwingle  certainly  was  an  intrepid  man  in  the  midst 
of  danger ;  but  he  always  had  a  horror  of  blood,  even 
of  that  of  his  most  deadly  enemies.  The  freedom  of 
his  country,  the  virtues  of  our  forefathers,  and,  above 
all,  the  glory  of  Christ,  were  the  sole  end  of  all  his 
designs. — I  speak  the  truth,  as  if  in  the  presence  of 
God,"  adds  he. 

AV'hile  Zurich  was  sending  deputies  to  Arau,  the  two 
armies  received  reinforcements.  The  men  of  Thur- 
govia  and  St.  Gall  joined  their  banners  to  that  of 
Zurich :  the  Valaisans  and  the  men  of  St.  Gothard 
united  with  the  Romanist  cantons.  The  advanced 
posts  were  in  sight  of  each  other  at  Thun,  Leematt, 
and  Goldesbrunnen,  on  the  delightful  slopes  of  tho 
Albis. 

Never,  perhaps,  did  Swiss  cordiality  shine  forth 
brighter  with  its  ancient  lustre.  The  soldiers  called 
to  one  another  in  a  friendly  manner,  and  shook  hands, 
styling  themselves  confederates  and  brothers.  "We 
shall  not  fight,"  said  they.  "A  storm  is  passing  over 
our  heads,  but  we  will  pray  to  God,  and  He  will  pre- 
serve us  from  every  harm."  Scarcity  afllicted  the 
army  of  the  Five  Cantons,  while  abundance  reigned 
in  the  camp  of  Zurich.  Some  young  famishing  Wald- 
steltcs  one  day  passed  the  outposts :  the  Zurichers 
made  them  prisoners,  conducted  them  to  the  camp,  and 
then  sent  them  back  laden  with  provisions,  with  still 
greater  good-nature  than  was  shewn  by  Henry  IV.  at 
the  siege  of  Paris.  At  another  time,  some  warriors  of 
the  Five  Cantons,  having  placed  a  bucket  filled  with 
milk  on  the  frontier-line,  cried  out  to  the  Zurichers 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


that  tliey  had  no  bread.  The  latter  came  down  im- 
mediately, and  cut  their  bread  into  the  enemies'  milk, 
upon  which  the  soldiers  of  the  two  parties  began  with 
jokes  to  eat  out  of  the  same  dish — some  on  this  side, 
some  on  that.  The  Zurichers  were  delighted  that  not- 
withstanding the  prohibition  of  their  priests,  the  Wald- 
sti'tlc's  ate  with  heretics.  When  one  of  the  troop  took 
.1  morsel  that  was  on  the  side  of  his  adversaries,  the 
latter  sportively  struck  him  with  their  spoons,  and  said: 
"  Do  not  cross  tiie  frontier !"  Thus  did  these  good 
Helvetians  make  war  upon  one  another ;  and  heuce  it 
was  that  the  Burgomaster  Sturm  of  Strasburg,  one  of 
the  mediators,  exclaimed :  "  You  confederates  are  a 
sini;;ular  people!  When  you  are  disunited,  you  live 
still  in  liarmouy  with  one  another,  and  your  ancient 
friendship  never  slumbers." 

The  most  perfect  order  reigued  in  the  camp  of 
Zurich.  Every  day  Zwingle,  the  commander  Schmidt, 
Zink,  abbot  of  Cappel,  or  some  other  minister,  preached 
among  the  soldiers.  No  oath  or  dispute  was  heard ; 
all  disorderly  women  were  turned  out  of  the  camp  ; 
prayers  were  offered  up  before  and  after  every  meal ; 
and  each  man  obeyed  his  chiefs.  There  were  no  dice, 
no  cards,  no  games  calculated  to  excite  quarrels ;  but 
psalms,  hymns,  national  songs,  bodily  exercise,  wrest- 
ling, or  pitching  the  stone,  were  the  military  recrea- 
tions of  the  Zurichers.  The  spirit  that  animated  the 
reformer  had  passed  into  the  army. 

The  assembly  at  Aran,  transported  to  Steinhausen 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  two  camps,  decreed  that 
each  army  should  hear  the  complaints  of  the  opposite 
party.  The  reception  of  the  deputies  of  the  Five  Can- 
tons by  the  Zurichers  was  tolerably  calm  ;  it  was  not 
so  in  the  other  camp. 

On  the  15th  June,  fifty  Zurichers,  surrronnded  by  a 
crowd  of  peasants,  proceeded  on  horseback  to  the 
Waldstettes.  The  sound  of  the  trumpet,  the  roll  of 
the  drum,  and  repeated  salvos  of  artillery  announced 
their  arrival.  Nearly  twelve  thousand  men  of  the 
smaller  cantons,  in  good  order,  with  uplifted  heads  and 
arrogant  looks,  were  under  arms.  Escher  of  Zurich 
spoke  first,  and  many  persons  from  the  rural  districts 
enumerated  their  grievances  after  him,  which  the 
Waldstettes  thought  exaggerated.  "When  have  we 
ever  refused  you  the  federal  right '?"  asked  they.  "Yes, 
yes  !"  replied  Funk,  Zwingle's  friend ;  "  we  know  how 
you  exercise  it.  That  pastor  (Keyser)  appealed  to  it, 
and  you  referred  him — to  the  executioner !"  "  Funk, 
you  would  have  done  better  to  have  held  your  tongue," 
said  one  of  his  friends.  But  the  words  had  slipped 
out :  a  dreadful  tumult  suddenly  arose ;  all  the  army  of 
the  Waldstettes  was  in  agitation;  the  most  prudent 
begged  the  Zurichers  to  retire  promptly,  and  protected 
their  departure. 

At  length  the  treaty  was  concluded  on  the  20th 
June,  1529.  Zwingle  did  not  obtain  all  he  desired. 
Instead  of  the  free  preaching  of  the  Word  of  God,  the 
treaty  stipulated  only  liberty  of  conscience ;  it  declared 
that  the  common  bailiwicks  should  pronounce  for  or 
against  the  Reform  by  a  majority  of  votes.  Without 
decreeing  the  abolition  of  foreign  pensions,  it  was 
recommended  to  the  Romish  cantons  to  renounce  the 
alliance  formed  with  Austria ;  the  Five  Cantons  were 
to  pay  the  expenses  of  the  war,  Miu-ner  to  retract  his 


insulting  words,   and   an   indemnity  was   secured  to 
Keyser's  family. 

An  incontrovertible  success  had  just  crowned  the 
warlike  demonstration  of  Zurich.  The  Five  Cantons 
felt  it.  Gloomy,  irritated,  silently  champing  the  bit 
that  had  been  placed  in  their  mouths,  their  chiefs 
could  not  decide  upon  giving  u])  thf  dcrd  of  their 
alliance  with  Austria.  Zurich  iinnii'ili:it(ly  recalled 
her  troops,  the  mediators  redoubled  tlnii-  solicitutidus, 
and  the  Bernese  exclaimed:  "If  you  do  not  deliver  up 
this  document,  we  will  ourselves  go  in  procession  and 
tear  it  from  your  archives."  At  last  it  was  brought  to 
Cappel  on  the  2Gth  June,  two  hours  after  midnight. 
All  the  army  was  drawn  out  at  eleven  in  the  forenoon, 
and  they  began  to  read  the  treaty.  The  Zurichers 
looked  with  astonishment  at  its  breadth  and  excessive 
length,  and  the  nine  seals  which  had  been  affixed,  one 
of  which  was  in  gold.  But  scarcely  had  a  few  words 
been  read,  when  Aebli,  snatching  the  parchment,  cried 
out,  "Enough,  enough!" — "Read  it,  read  it!"  said  the 
Zurichers  ;  "we  desire  to  learn  their  treason  !"  But  the 
Bailiff  of  Glaris  replied  boldly:  "I  would  rather  bo  cut 
in  a  thousand  pieces  than  permit  it."  Then  dashing 
his  knife  into  the  parchment,  he  cut  it  in  pieces  in  the 
presence  of  Zwingle  and  the  soldiers,  and  threw  the 
fragments  to  the  secretary,  who  committed  them  to  the 
flames.  "  The  paper  was  not  Swiss,"  says  Bullinger, 
with  sublime  simplicity. 

The  bainicis  amtc  inunediately  struck.  The  men  of 
Unterwaldiii  ntii-.d  in  anger;  those  of  Schywtz  swore 
they  woidil  Inr  i\ii  preserve  their  ancient  faith  ;  while 
the  troops  of  Zuricli  returned  in  triumph  to  their  homes. 
r>Ht  the  most  opposite  thoughts  agitated  Zwingle's  mind. 
"  I  hope,"  said  he,  doing  violence  to  his  feelings,  "  that 
we  bring  back  an  honourable  peace  to  our  dwellings. 
It  was  not  to  shed  blood  that  we  set  out.  God  has 
once  again  shewn  the  great  ones  of  the  earth  that  they 
can  do  nothing  against  us."  Whenever  he  gave  way 
to  his  natural  disposition,  a  very  different  order  of 
thoughts  took  possession  of  his  mind.  He  was  seen 
walking  apart  in  deep  dejection,  and  anticipating  tlic 
most  gloomy  future.  In  vain  did  the  people  surround 
him  with  joyful  shouts.  "This  peace,"  said  he,  "which 
you  consider  a  triumph,  you  will  soon  repent  of,  strik- 
ing your  breasts."  It  was  at  this  time  that,  venting 
his  sorrow,  he  composed,  as  he  was  descending  the 
Albis,  a  celebrated  hymn,  often  repeited  to  the  sound 
of  music  in  the  fields  of  Switzerland,  among  the 
burghers  of  the  confederate  cities,  and  even  in  the 
palaces  of  kings.  The  hymns  of  Luther  and  of 
Zwingle  play  the  same  part  in  the  German  and  Swiss 
Reformation  as  the  Psalms  in  that  of  France. 

Do  thou  direct  thy  chariot,  Lord, 

And  guide  it  at  tliy  wi.l ; 
Without  thy  aid  our  strength  is  vain, 

And  useless  all  our  sl;ill. 
Look  down  upon  thy  saints  brought  low, 
And  ju-ostrate  laid  beneath  the  foe. 


1  Satan's  iuuuus  hand. 


CONQUESTS  OF  KEFORM  IN  SCHAFFHAUSEN  AND  ZURZACK. 


Send  down  tliy  pcaco,  aiul  bauisli  strife, 

Let  bitterness  dopart; 
Revive  tlie  spir''  °f  "'«  I'^^t 

In  every  Swit2er*s  heart ; 
Thin  ahull  thy  Churuh  for  over  sing 
Tlie  praises  other  heavenly  King, 

An  edict,  published  in  the  iinme  of  the  confederates, 
ordered  tlie  rcvivnl  everywhere  of  tlie  old  friendship 
ami  brotherly  coneord ;  but  decrees  are  powerless  to 
work  such  miracles. 

This  treaty  of  peace  was,  nevertheless,  favourable  to 
the  Reform.  Undoubtedly  it  met  with  a  violent 
opposition  in  sonic  places.  The  nuns  of  the  vale  of 
St.  Catherine,  in  Tliur^'ovia,  deserted  by  their  priests, 
and  excited  by  some  noblemen  beyond  the  Rhine,  who 
styled  them  in  their  letters,  "Chivalrous  women  of  the 
house  of  God,"  sang  mass  themselves,  and  appointed 
one  of  their  number  preacher  to  the  convent.  Certain 
deputies  from  the  Protestant  cantons  having  had  an 
interview  with  them,  the  abbess  and  three  of  the  nuns 
secretly  crossed  the  river  by  night,  carrying  with  them 
papers  of  the  monastery  and  the  ornaments  of  the 
church.  But  such  isolated  resistance  as  this  was  un- 
availing. Already,  in  1529,  Zwinglc  was  able  to  hold 
a  synod  in  Thurgnvi:i,  which  orL'aiiized  the  Church 
there,  and  d.  rr.M'd  lint  th>>  iiropiTty  of  the'  convents 
shoidd  be  cin.-rc-i-alrd  1..  lli.-  iii-liiiclinu  of  pious  young 
men  in  sacred  leiiriiinj;-.  Thus  eiuieord  and  peace  seemed 
at  last  to  be  rc-cstabiishcd  in  the  confederation. 


CHAPTER  in. 

Conquests  of  Reform  in  Sehaffhausen  anil  Zurzack— Reform  in  Claris— 
lo-ilay  tlio  Cowl,  To-morrow  the  Reverse— Italian  Bailiwicks— The 
Monk  of  Corao— Egidio'b  Hope  for  Italy— Call  of  the  Monk  of  Locamo 
— Uopcs  of  Reforming  Italy— The  Monks  of  Wettingen— Abbey  of  Saint 
GaU— Kilian  Kouffl— Saint  Gall  Recovers  its  Liberty— The  Reform  in 
Soleure- Miracle  of  Saint  Onrs— Popery  Triumphs— Tlie  Grisons  In- 
vaded by  the  Spaniards— Address  of  the  Ministers  to  the  Romish 
Coutons— God's  Word  the  Means  of  Unity— CEcolampadius  for  Spiritual 
TnlUiencc— Autonomy  of  the  Church. 

■WiiENKVER  a  conqueror  abandons  himself  to  his 
triumph,  in  that  very  confidence  he  often  finds  de- 
struction. Zurich  and  Zwingle  were  to  exemplify  this 
mournful  lesson  of  history.  Taking  advantage  of  the 
national  peace,  they  redoubled  their  exertions  for  the 
tiiumph  of  the  Gospel.  This  was  a  legitimate  zeal, 
but  it  was  not  always  wisely  directed.  To  attain  the 
unity  of  Switzerland  by  unity  of  faith  was  the  object 
of  the  Zurichers ;  but  they  forgot  that,  by  desiring  to 
force  on  a  unity,  it  is  broken  to  pieces,  and  that  free- 
dom is  the  only  medium  in  which  contr.try  elements 
can  be  dissolved,  and  a  salutary  union  establi-hed. 
"While  Rome  aims  at  unity  by  anathemas,  imprison- 
ment, and  the  stake.  Christian  truth  demands  unity 
through  liberty.  And  let  us  not  fear  that  liberty, 
expanding  each  individuality  beyond  measure,  will 
produce  by  this  means  an  infinite  multiplicity.  While 
wo  urge  every  mind  to  attach  itself  to  the  Word  of 
God,  we  give  it  up  to  a  power  capable  of  restoring  its 
diverging  opinions  to  a  wholesome  unity. 


Zwingle  at  first  signalized  his  victory  by  legitimate 
conquests.  He  advanced  with  courage.  "His  eye 
and  his  arm  were  everywhere."  "A  few  wretched 
mischief-makers,"  says  Salat,  a  Romanist  chronicler, 
"penetrating  into  the  Five  Cantons,  troubled  men's 
souls,  distributed  their  frippery,  scattered  everywhere 
little  poems,  tracts,  and  testaments,  and  were  con- 
tinually repeating  that  the  people  ought  not  to  believe 
the  priests."  This  was  not  all :  while  the  Reform  was 
destined  to  be  confined  around  the  lake  of  the  Wald- 
slettes  to  a  few  fruitless  efforts,  it  made  brilliant  con- 
quests among  the  cantons — the  allies  and  sulijccts  of 
Switzerland ;  and  all  the  blows  there  inflicted  on  the 
Papacy  re-echoed  amoug  the  lofty  valleys  of  the  primi- 
tive cantons,  and  filled  them  with  affright.  Nowhere 
had  Popery  shewn  itself  more  determined  than  in  the 
Swiss  mountains.  A  mixture  of  Romish  despotism 
and  Helvetian  roughness  existed  there.  Rouie  was 
resolved  to  conquer  all  Switzerland,  and  yet  she  beheld 
her  most  important  positions  successively  wrested  from 
her. 

On  the  29th  September,  1529,  the  citizens  of  Sehaff- 
hausen removed  the  "  great  God  "  from  the  cathedral, 
to  the  deep  regret  of  a  small  number  of  devotees  whom 
the  Roman  worship  still  counted  iu  this  city;  then  they 
abolished  the  mass,  and  stretched  out  their  hands  to 
Zurich  and  to  Berne. 

At  Zurzack,  near  the  confluence  of  the  Rhine  and 
the  Aar,  at  the  moment  when  the  priest  of  the  place, 
a  man  devoted  to  the  ancient  worship,  was  preaching 
with  zeal,  a  person  named  Tufel,  (devil.)  raising  his 
head,  observed  to  him :  "  Sii',  you  are  heaping  insults 
on  good  men,  and  loading  the  pope  and  the  saints  of 
the  Roman  calendar  with  honour;  pray,  where  do  we 
find  that  iu  the  Holy  Scriptures?"  This  question,  put 
in  a  serious  tone  of  voice,  raised  a  sly  smile  on  many 
faces,  and  the  congregation,  with  their  eyes  fixed  on  the 
pulpit,  awaited  the  reply.  The  priest,  in  astonishment 
and  at  his  wits's  end,  answered  with  a  trembling  voice: 
"  Devil  is  thy  name ;  thou  actest  like  the  devil,  and 
thou  art  the  devil !  For  this  reason  I  will  have  no- 
thing to  do  with  thee."  He  then  hastily  left  the  pulpit, 
and  ran  away  as  if  Satan  himself  had  been  behind 
him.  Immediately  the  images  were  torn  down,  and 
the  mass  abolishetl.  The  Roman  Catholics  sought  to 
console  themselves  by  repeating  everywhere:  "At 
Zurzack  it  was  the  devil  who  introduced  the  Refor- 
mation." 

The  priests  and  warriors  of  the  Forest  Cantons  be- 
held the  overthrow  of  the  Romish  faith  in  countries 
that  lay  nearer  to  them.  In  the  canton  of  Glaris, 
whence  by  the  steep  passes  of  the  Klaus  and  the 
Pragel,'  the  Reform  might  suddenly  fall  upon  Uri  and 
Schwytz,  two  men  met  face  to  face.  At  Mollis, 
Fridoliu  Brunner  who  questioned  himself  every  day  by 
what  means  he  could  advance  the  cause  of  Christ, 
attacked  the  abuses  of  the  Church  with  the  energy  of 
his  friend  Zwingle,  and  endeavoured  to  spread  among 
the  people,  who  were  passionately  fond  of  war,  the 
peace  and  charity  of  the  Gospel.  At  Glaris,  on  the 
contrary,  Valentine  Tschudi  studied  with  all  the  cir- 
cumspection of  his  friend  Erasmus  to  preserve  a  just 
medium  between  Rome  and  the  Reform.   And  although, 

1  Tliis  is  the  road  by  which  the  army  of  Su\raroff  escaped  in  1799. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


ia  consequence  of  Fridolin's  preaching,  the  doctrines 
of  purgatory,  indulgences,  meritorious  works,  and  in- 
tercession of  the  saints,  were  looked  at  by  the  Glaro- 
nais  as  mere  follies  and  fables,  they  still  believed,  with 
Tschudi,  that  the  body  and  blood  of  Christ  were  sub- 
stantially in  the  bread  of  tlic  Lord's  Supper. 

At  the  same  time  a  movement  in  opposition  to  the 
Reform  was  taking  place  in  that  high  and  savage 
valley,  where  the  Linth,  roaring  at  the  foot  of  vast 
rocks  with  jagged  crests, — enormous  citadels  which 
seem  built  in  the  air, — bathes  the  villages  of  Schwanden 
and  Euti  with  its  waters.  The  Roman  Catholics, 
alarmed  at  the  progress  of  the  Gospel,  and  wishing  to 
save  these  mountains  at  least,  had  scattered  with 
liberal  hands  tlie  money  they  derived  from  their 
foreign  pensions ;  and  from  that  time  violent  hostility 
divided  old  friends,  and  men  who  appeared  to  have 
been  won  over  to  the  Gospel  basely  sought  for  a  pre- 
text to  conceal  a  diNiriaCL'tul  iliirlit.      "Peter  and  I." 


wrote  liaMliPitcr,  pastor  of  Ruti.  in  dcspau-,  "are 
labouring  in  the  vineyard,  but,  alas !  the  gi-apes  we 
gathered  are  not  employed  for  the  sacrifice,  and  the 
very  birds  do  not  eat  them.  "We  fish,  but  after  having 
toiled  all  night,  we  find  that  wo  have  only  caught 
leeches.  Alas !  we  are  casting  pearls  before  dogs,  and 
roses  before  swine  ! "  The  spirit  of  revolt  against  the 
Gospel  soon  descended  from  these  valleys,  with  the 
noisy  waters  of  the  Linth,  as  far  as  Glaris  and  Mollis. 
"The  council,  as  if  it  had  been  composed  only  of  silly 
women,  shifted  its  sails  every  day,"  said  Rasdorfer ; 
"  one  day  it  will  have  the  cowl,  on  the  next  it  will  not." 
Glaris,  like  a  leaf  carried  along  on  the  bosom  of  one  of 
its  torrents,  and  which  the  waves  and  eddies  drive  in 
different  directions,  wavered,  wheeled  about,  and  was 
nearly  swallowed  up. 

But  this  crisis  came  to  an  end :  the  Gospel  suddenly 
regained  strength,  and  on  Easter  Monday,  1630,  a 
general  assembly  of  the  people  "  put  the  mass  and  the 
altars  to  the  vote."    A  powerful  party  that  relied  upon 


the  Five  Cantons  vainly  opposed  the  Reform.  It  was 
proclaimed,  and  its  vanquished  and  disconcerted  enemies 
were  forced  to  content  themselves,  says  BuUinger,  witli 
mysteriously  concealing  a  few  idols,  which  they  re- 
served for  better  days. 

In  the  meanwhile,  the  Reform  advanced  in  the 
exterior  Rhodes  of  Appenzell,  and  in  the  district  of 
Sargans.  But  what  most  exasperated  the  cantons  that 
remained  faithful  to  the  Romisli  doctrines,  was  to  see 
it  pass  the  Alps  and  appear  in  Italy,  in  those  beautiful 
districts  round  Lake  Maggiore,  where,  near  the  em- 
bouchure of  the  Maggia,  within  the  walls  of  Locarno, 
in  the  midst  of  laurels,  pomegranates,  and  cypresses, 
flourished  the  noble  families  of  Orelli,  Muralto,  Ma- 
goria,  and  Duni,  and  where  floated,  since  1512,  the 
sovereign  standard  of  the  cantons.  "What!"  said 
the  Waldstettes,  "is  it  not  enough  that  Zurich  and 
Zwingle  infest  Switzerland !  They  have  the  impu- 
dence to  carry  their  pretended  reform  even  into  Italy, 
— even  into  the  country 
of  the  pope  1" 

Ore  it      irregularities 
picv  uled    there    among 
tlie    clergy:    "Whoever 
wishes    to    be    damned 
must  become  a  priest," 
was  a  common  saying. 
Hut  the  Gospel  succeed- 
1   in    making   its   way 
n   uito  that    district. 
\  iiionkof  Como,  Egidio 
I'oi  ta,  who  had  taken 
cowl  in  1511,  against     j 
^\  )3lies  of  his  family,     j 
i  uggied    for   years    in 
ic  Augustine  convent, 
nd  nowhere  found  peace 
for  his  soul.    Motionless, 
environed,  as  it  appeared     { 
to  him,   with   profound     ] 
night,   he    cried    aloud :     , 
"  Lord,  what  wilt  thou 
that  I  should  do?"  Ere-     ! 
long  the  monk  of  Como     ! 
thought  he  heard  these  words  in  his  heart :   "  Go  to     ! 
Ulrich   Zwingle   and   he   will   tell   thee."      He    rose 
trembling  with  emotion.      "It  is  you,"  wrote  he  to 
Zwingle  immediately,  "  but  no !  it  is  not  you,  it  is  God 
who,  tlirough  you,  will  deliver  nie  from  the  nets  of  the 
hunters."    "  Translate  the  New  Testament  into  Italian," 
replied  Zwingle;  "I  will  undertake  to  get  it  printed  at 
Zurich."     This  is  what  the  Reform  did  for  Italy  more 
than  three  centuries  ago. 

Egidio  therefore  remained.  He  commenced  trans- 
lating the  Gospel ;  but  at  one  time  lie  had  to  beg  for 
tlie  convent,  at  another  to  repeat  his  "  hours,"  and  then 
to  accompany  one  of  the  fathers  on  his  journeys. 
Everything  that  surrounded  him  increased  his  distress. 
He  saw  his  country  reduced  to  the  greatest  misery  by 
desolating  wars — men  formerly  rich,  holding  out  their 
hands  for  alms — crowds  of  women  driven  by  want  to 
the  most  shameful  degradation.  He  imagined  that  a 
great  political  deliverance  could  alone  bring  about  the 
religious  independence  of  his  fellow-countrymen. 


THE  MONK  OF  LOCARNO. 


Ou  a  sudden  he  thought  tliat  this  happy  hour  was 
arrived.  He  perceived  a  band  of  Lutiieran  hms- 
queuets  descending  the  Alps.  Their  sen-ied  pluihiuxes, 
tiieir  threatening  looks,  were  directed  towards  the 
banks  of  the  Tiber.  At  their  head  marched  Freuuds- 
berg,  wearing  a  chain  of  gold  around  his  neck,  and 
saying:  "If  I  reach  Rome  I  will  make  use  of  it  to 
hang  the  pope." — "  God  wills  to  save  us,"  wrote  Egidio 
to  Zwingle :  "  write  to  the  constable ;  entreat  him  to 
deliver  the  people  over  whom  he  rules — to  take  from 
the  shaven  crowns,  whose  God  is  their  belly,  the 
wealth  which  renders  them  so  proud — and  to  distri- 
bute it  among  the  people  who  are  dying  of  hunger. 
Then  let  each  one  preach  without  fear  the  pure  Word 
of  the  Lord. — The  strength  of  Antichrist  is  near  its 
fall !" 

Thus,  about  the  end  of  1526,  Egidio  already  dreamt 
of  the  Reformation  of  Italy.  From  that  time  his  letters 
coase  :  the  monk  disappeared.  There  can  be  no  doubt 
that  the  arm  of  Rome  was  able  to  reach  him,  and  that, 
like  so  many  others,  he  was  plunged  into  the  gloomy 
dungeon  of  some  convent. 

In  the  spring  of  1530,  a  new  epoch  commenced 
for  the  Italian  bailiwicks.  Zuricli  appointed  Jacques 
Werdmiiller  bailiff  of  Locarno ;  he  was  a  grave  man, 
respected  by  all,  and  who  even,  in  1524,  had  kissed  the 
feet  of  the  pope;  he  had  since  then  been  won  over 
to  the  Gospel,  and  had  sat  down  at  the  feet  of  the 
Saviour.  "Go,"  said  Zurich,  "and  bear  yourself  like 
a  Christian,  and  in  all  that  concerns  the  Word  of  God 
conform  to  the  ordinances."  Werdmiiller  met  with 
nothing  but  darkness  in  every  quarter.  Yet,  in  the 
midst  of  this  gloom,  a  feeble  glimmering  seemed  to 
issue  from  a  convent  situated  on  the  delightful  shores 
of  Lake  Maggiore.  Among  the  Carmelites  at  Locarno 
was  a  monk  named  Fontana,  skilled  in  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures, aud  animated  with  the  same  spirit  that  had 
enlightened  the  monk  of  Como.  The  doctrine  of  sal- 
vation, u-itlwut  moni'i/  and  icithovt  price,  which  God 
proclaims  in  the  Gospel,  filled  him  with  love  and  joy. 
"As  long  as  I  live,"  said  he,  "I  will  preach  upon  the 
Epistles  of  St.  Paul ;"  for  it  was  particularly  in  these 
epistles  that  he  had  found  the  truth.  Two  monks,  of 
wiiose  names  we  are  ignorant,  shared  his  sentiments. 
Fontana  wrote  a  letter  "to  all  the  Chm-ch  of  Christ  in 
Germany,"  which  was  forwarded  to  Zwingle.  We 
may  imagine  we  hear  that  man  of  Macedonia,  who 
appeared  in  a  vision  to  Paul  in  the  night,  calling  him 
to  Europe,  and  saying.  Come  over  and  help  us. — "  Oh  ! 
trusty  and  well-beloved  of  Christ  Jesus,"  cried  the 
monk  of  Locarno  to  Germany,  "remember  Lazarus, 
the  beggar,  in  the  Gospel — remember  that  humble 
Canaanitish  woman,  longing  for  the  crumbs  that  fell 
from  the  Lord's  table !  Hungry  as  David,  I  have  re- 
course to  the  shew-bread  placed  upon  the  altar.  A 
poor  traveller  devoured  by  thirst,  I  rush  to  the  springs 
of  living  water.  Plunged  in  darkness,  bathed  in  tears, 
we  cry  to  you  who  know  the  mysteries  of  God  to  send 
us  by  the  hands  of  the  munificent  J.  Werdmiiller  all 
the  ^^Titings  of  the  divine  Zwingle,  of  the  famous 
Luther,  of  the  skilful  Melaucthon,  of  the  mild  (Ecolam- 
padius,  of  the  ingenious  Pomerauus,  of  the  learned 
Lambert,  of  the  elegant  Breutz,  of  the  penetrating 
Bucer,  of  the  studious  Leo,  of  the  vigilant  HUtten, 


and  of  the  other  illustrious  doctors,  if  there  are  any 
more.  Excellent  princes,  pivots  of  the  Church,  our 
holy  mother,  make  haste  to  deliver  from  the  slavery 
of  Babylon  a  city  of  Lombardy  that  has  not  yet  known 
the  Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ.  A\'e  are  but  three  wlio 
have  combined  together  to  fight  on  behalf  of  the  truth  ; 
but  it  Wius  beneath  the  blows  of  a  small  body  of  men, 
chosen  by  God,  and  not  by  the  thousands  of  Gideon, 
that  Midian  fell.  Who  knows  if,  from  a  small  spark, 
God  may  not  cause  a  great  conflagration  ?" 

Thus  three  men  on  the  banks  of  the  Maggia  hoped 
at  that  time  to  reform  Italy.  They  uttered  a  call  to 
wliich,  for  three  centuries,  the  evangelical  world  has  not 
replied.  Zurich,  however,  in  these  days  of  its  strength 
and  of  its  faith,  displayed  a  holy  boldness,  and  dared 
extend  her  heretical  arms  beyond  the  Alps.  Hence 
L^ri,  Schwytz,  Uuterwalden,  and  all  tlie  Romanists  of 
Switzerland,  gave  vent  to  loud  and  terrible  threats, 
swearing  to  arrest,  even  in  Zurich  itself,  the  course  of 
these  presumptuous  invasions. 

But  the  Zurichers  did  not  confine  themselves  to  this  : 
they  gave  the  confederates  more  serious  cause  of  fear, 
by  waging  incessant  war  against  the  convents — those 
centres  of  ultramontane  fanaticism.  The  extensive 
monastery  of  Wettiugen,  around  which  roll  the  waters 
of  the  Limmat,  and  which,  by  its  proximity  to  Zurich, 
was  exposed  more  than  any  other  to  the  breath  of 
reform,  was  in  violent  commotion.  Ou  the  23d  August, 
1529,  a  great  change  took  place  ;  the  monks  ceased  to 
sing  mass;  they  cut  off  each  other's  beards,  not  with- 
out shedding  a  few  tears ;  they  laid  down  their  frocks 
and  their  hoods,  and  clothed  themselves  in  becoming 
secular  dresses.  Then,  in  astonishment  at  this  meta- 
morphosis, they  listened  devoutly  to  the  sermon  which 
Sebastian  Benli  of  Zurich  came  and  preached  to  them, 
and  erelong  employed  themselves  in  propagating  the 
Gospel,  and  in  singing  psalms  in  German.  Thus 
Wettingen  fell  into  the  current  of  that  river  which 
seemed  to  be  everywhere  reviving  the  confederation. 
The  cloister,  ceasing  to  be  a  house  for  gaming,  glut- 
tony, and  drunkenness,  was  changed  into  a  school. 
Two  monks  alone  in  all  the  monastery  remained  faith- 
ful to  the  cowl. 

The  commander  of  Mulinen,  without  troubling  him- 
self about  the  threats  of  the  Romish  cantons,  earnestly 
pressed  the  commandery  of  St.  John  at  Hitzkirch  to- 
wards the  Reformation.  The  question  was  put  to  the 
vote,  and  the  majority  declared  in  favour  of  the  Word 
of  God.  "Ah!"  said  the  commander,  "I  have  been 
long  pushing  behind  the  chariot."  On  the  4th  Septem- 
ber the  commandery  was  reformed.  It  was  the  same 
with  that  of  Wadenswyl,  with  the  convent  of  Pfeffers, 
and  others  besides.  Even  at  Mury  the  majority  de- 
clared for  the  Gospel ;  but  the  minority  prevailed 
through  the  support  of  the  Five  Cantons.  A  new 
triumph,  aud  one  of  greater  value,  was  destined  to 
indemnify  the  Reform,  and  to  raise  the  indignation  of 
the  Waklstettes  to  tlie  iiighest  pitch. 

Tlie  Abbot  of  St.  Gall,  by  his  wealth,  by  the  number 
of  his  subjects,  and  the  influence  which  he  exercised  in 
Switzerland,  was  one  of  the  most  formidable  adver- 
saries of  the  Gospel.  In  1529,  therefore,  at  the 
moment  when  the  army  of  Zurich  took  the  field  against 
the  Five  Cantons,  the  Abbot  Francis  of  Geisberg,  in 
2  m 


HISTORY  OF  THE  EEFOEMATION. 


alarm  and  at  the  brink  of  death,  caused  himself  to  be 
hastily  removed  into  the  strong  castle  of  Rohrschach, 
not  thinking  himself  secure  except  within  its  walls. 
Four  days  after  this,  the  illustrious  Vadian,  burgo- 
master of  St.  Gall,  entered  the  convent,  and  announced 
the  intention  of  the  people  to  resume  the  use  of  their 
cathedral-church,  and  to  remove  the  images.  The 
monks  were  astonished  at  such  audacity,  and  having 
in  vain  protested  and  cried  for  help,  put  their  most 
precious  effects  in  a  place  of  safety,  and  fled  to  Ein- 
sidlen. 

Among  these  was  Kilian  KoufR,  head-steward  of  the 
abbey,  a  cunning  and  active  monk,  and,  like  Zwingle,  a 
native  of  the  Tockenburg.  Knowing  how  important 
it  was  to  find  a  successor  to  the  abbot  before  the  news 
of  his  death  was  bruited  abroad,  he  came  to  an  under- 
standing with  those  who  waited  on  the  prelate ;  and 
the  latter  dying  on  Tuesday  in  Holy  Week,  the  meals 
were  carried  as  usual  into  his  chamber,  and  with  down- 
cast eyes  and  low  voice  the  attendants  answered  every 
inquiry  about  his  health.  While  this  farce  was  going 
on  round  a  dead  body,  the  monks  who  had  assembled 
at  Eiusidlen  repaired  in  all  haste  to  Rapperschwyl,  in 
the  territory  of  St.  Gall,  and  there  elected  Kilian,  who 
had  so  skilfully  managed  the  affair.  The  new  abbot 
went  immediately  to  Rohrschach,  and  on  Good  Friday 
he  there  proclaimed  his  own  election  and  the  death  of 
his  predecessor.  Zurich  and  Glaris  declared  they  would 
not  recognise  him,  unless  he  could  prove  by  the  Holy 
Scriptures  that  a  monkish  life  was  in  conformity  with 
the  Gospel.  "  We  are  ready  to  protect  the  house  of 
God,"  said  they;  "and  for  this  reason  we  require  that 
it  be  consecrated  anew  to  the  Lord.  But  we  do  not 
forget  that  it  is  our  duty  also  to  protect  the  people. 
The  free  Church  of  Christ  should  raise  its  head  in 
the  bosom  of  a  free  people."  At  the  same  time  the 
ministers  of  St.  Gall  published  forty-two  theses,  in 
which  they  asserted  that  convents  were  not  "  houses  of 
God,  but  houses  of  the  devil."  The  abbot,  supported 
by  Lucerne  and  Schwytz,  which  with  Zurich  and 
Glaris  exercised  sovereign  power  in  St.  Gall,  replied 
that  he  could  not  dispute  about  rights  which  he  held 
from  kings  and  emperors.  The  two  natives  of  the 
Tockenburg,  Zwingle  and  Kilian,  were  thus  struggling 
around  St.  Gall, — the  one  claiming  the  people  lor  the 
abbey,  and  the  other  the  abbey  for  the  people.  The 
array  of  Zurich  having  approached  Wyl,  Kilian  seized 
upon  the  treasures  and  muniments  of  the  convent,  and 
fled  precipitantly  beyond  the  Rhine.  As  soon  as  peace 
was  concluded,  the  crafty  monk  put  on  a  secular  dress, 
and  crept  mysteriously  as  far  as  Einsidlen,  whence  on 
a  sudden  he  made  all  Switzerland  re-echo  with  his  cries. 
Zurich,  in  conjunction  with  Glaris,  replied  by  publish- 
ing a  constitution,  according  to  which  a  governor, 
"  confirmed  in  the  evangelical  faith,"  should  preside 
over  the  district,  with  a  council  of  twelve  members, 
while  the  election  of  pastors  was  left  to  the  parishes. 
Not  long  afterwards,  the  abbot,  expelled  and  a  fugitive, 
while  crossing  a  river  near  Bregeutz,  fell  from  his  horse, 
got  entangled  in  his  frock,  and  was  drowned.  Of  the 
two  combatants  from  the  Tockenburg,  it  was  Zwingle 
who  gained  the  victory. 

The  convent  was  put  up  to  sale,  and  was  purchased 
by  the  town  of  St.  Gall,  "with  the  exception,"  says 


BuUinger,  "  of  a  detached  building,  called  Hell,  where 
the  monks  were  left  who  had  not  embraced  the  Reform." 
The  time  having  arrived  when  the  governor  sent  by 
Zurich  was  to  give  place  to  one  from  Lucerne,  the 
people  of  St.  Gall  called  upon  the  latter  to  swear  to 
their  constitution.  "A  governor  has  never  been  known," 
replied  he,  "  to  make  an  oath  to  peasants ;  it  is  the 
peasants  who  should  make  the  oath  to  the  governor!" 
Upon  this  he  retired :  the  Zurich  governor  remained, 
and  the  indignation  of  the  Five  Cantons  against  Zurich, 
which  so  daringly  assisted  the  people  of  St.  Gall  in 
recovering  their  ancient  liberties,  rose  to  the  highest 
paroxysm  of  auger. 

A  few  victories,  however,  consoled  in  some  degree 
the  partisans  of  Rome.  Soleure  was  for  a  long  time 
one  of  the  most  contested  battle-fields.  The  citizens 
and  the  learned  were  in  favour  of  Reform :  the  patri- 
cians and  canons  for  Popery.  Philip  Grotz  of  Zug 
was  preaching  the  Gospel  there,  and  the  council  desir- 
ing to  compel  him  to  say  mass,  one  hundred  of  the 
reformed  appeared  iu  the  hall  of  assembly  on  the  13th 
September,  1529,  and  with  energy  called  for  liberty  of 
conscience.  As  Zurich  and  Berne  supported  this  de- 
mand, their  prayer  was  granted. 

Upon  this  the  most  fanatical  of  the  Roman  Catholics, 
exasperated  at  the  concession,  closed  the  gates  of  the 
city,  pointed  the  guns,  and  made  a  show  of  expelling 
the  friends  of  the  Reform.  The  council  prepare  to 
punish  these  agitators,  when  the  reformed,  willing  to 
set  an  example  of  Christian  moderation,  declared  they 
would  forgive  them.  The  Great  Council  then  pub- 
lished throughout  the  canton  that  the  dominion  of  con- 
science belonging  to  God  alone,  and  faith  being  the 
free  gift  of  His  grace,  each  one  might  follow  the  reli- 
gion which  he  thought  best.  Thirty- four  parishes 
declared  for  the  Reformation,  and  only  two  for  the 
mass.  Almost  all  the  rural  districts  were  in  favour  of 
the  Gospel ;  but  tiie  majority  in  the  city  sided  with  the 
pope.  Haller,  whom  the  reformed  of  Soleure  had 
sent  for,  arrived,  and  it  was  a  day  of  triiunph  for 
them.  It  was  in  the  middle  of  winter:  "To-day," 
ironically  observed  one  of  the  evangelical  Christians, 
"  the  patron  saint  (St.  Ours)  will  sweat !"  And  in 
truth — oh  !  wonderful ! — drops  of  moisture  fell  from 
the  holy  image !  It  was  simply  a  little  Jioly  water 
that  had  frozen  and  then  thawed.  But  the  Romanists 
would  listen  to  no  raillery  on  so  illustrious  a  prodigy, 
which  may  remind  us  of  the  blood  of  St.  Januarius  at 
Naples.  All  the  city  resounded  with  piteous  cries — 
the  bells  were  tolled — a  general  procession  moved 
through  the  streets  —  and  high  mass  was  sung  iu 
honour  of  the  heavenly  prince  who  had  shewn  in  so 
marvellous  a  manner  the  pangs  he  felt  for  his  dearly 
beloved.  "It  is  the  fat  minister  of  Berne  (Haller) 
who  is  the  cause  of  the  saint's  alarm,"  said  the  devout 
old  women.  One  of  them  declared  that  she  would 
thrust  a  knife  into  his  body;  and  certain  Roman 
Catholics  threatened  to  go  to  the  Cordeliers'  church 
and  murder  the  pastors  who  preached  there.  Upon 
this  the  reformed  rushed  to  that  ciiurch  and  demanded 
a  public  discussion  :  two  hundred  of  their  adversaries 
posted  themselves  at  the  same  time  in  the  church  of 
St.  Ours,  and  refused  all  inquiry.  Neither  of  the  two 
parties  was  willing  to  be  the  first  to  abandon  the  camp 


THE  ORISONS  INVADED  BY  THE  SPANIARDS. 


in  which  it  was  entrenched.  The  senate,  wishing  to 
clear  the  two  churches  tiius  in  a  manner  transformed 
into  citadels,  announced  tliat  at  Martinmas — /.  e.,  nine 
months  later — a  public  disputation  should  take  place. 
But  as  the  reformed  found  the  delay  too  long,  both  par- 
tics  remained  for  a  whole  week  more  under  arms.  Com- 
merce was  interrupted — the  public  olliccs  were  closed 
— messengers  ran  to  and  fro — arrangements  were  pro- 
posed ;  but  the  people  were  so  stiff-necked,  that  no  one 
would  give  way.  The  city  was  in  a  state  of  siege. 
At  last  all  were  agreed  about  the  discussion,  and  the 
ministers  eominitfcd  four  tlieses  to  writing,  which  the 
canons  immediately  attempted  to  refute. 

Neverlheloss,  they  judged  it  a  still  better  plan  to 
elude  them.  Nothing  alarmed  the  Romanists  so  much 
as  a  disputation.  '•  What  need  have  we  of  any  ?"  said 
they.  "  Do  not  the  writings  of  the  two  parties  declare 
their  sentiments'?"  The  conference  was  therefore  put 
off  until  tlio  following  year.  Many  of  the  reformed, 
indignant  at  these  delays,  imprudently  quitted  the  city; 
and  the  councils,  charmed  at  this  result,  which  they 
were  far  from  expecting,  hastily  declared  that  the  people 
j  should  be  free  in  the  canton,  but  that  in  the  city  no 
one  should  attack  the  mass.  From  that  time  the  re- 
formed were  compelled  every  Sunday  to  leave  Solenrc 
and  repair  to  tlie  village  of  Zuchswyl  to  hear  the 
Word  of  God.  Thus  Popery,  defeated  in  so  many 
places,  triumphed  in  Soleure. 

Zurich  and  the  other  reformed  cantons  attentively 
watched  these  successes  of  their  adversaries,  and  lent  a 
fearful  ear  to  the  threats  of  the  Roman  Catholics,  who 
were  continually  announcing  the  intervention  of  the 
emperor ;  when  on  a  sudden  a  report  was  heard  that 
nine  hundred  Spaniards  had  entered  the  Grisons ; 
that  they  were  led  by  the  chatclain  of  Musso,  recently 
invested  with  the  title  of  marquis  by  Charles  the  Fifth  ; 
that  the  chatelain's  brother-in-law,  Didier  d'Embs, 
was  also  marching  against  the  Swiss  at  the  head  of 
three  thousand  imperial  lansquenets ;  and  that  the  em- 
peror himself  was  ready  to  support  them  with  all  his 
forces.  The  Grisons  uttered  a  cry  of  alarm.  The 
AValdstettes  remained  motionless ;  but  all  the  reformed 
cantons  assembled  their  troops,  and  eleven  thousand 
men  began  their  march.  The  emperor  and  the  Duke 
of  Milan  having  soon  after  declared  that  they  would 
not  support  the  chatelain,  this  adventurer  beheld  his 
castle  razed  to  the  ground,  and  was  compelled  to  retire 
to  the  banks  of  the  Sesia,  giving  guarantees  of  future 
tranquility;  while  the  Swiss  soldiers  returned  to  their 
homes,  fired  with  indignation  against  the  Five  Cantons, 
who,  by  their  inactivity,  had  infringed  the  federal  alli- 
ance. "  Our  promi»t  and  enci-getic  resistance,"  said 
they,  "  has  undoubtedly  ballled  their  perfidious  designs; 
but  the  reaction  is  only  adjourned.  Although  the 
parchment  of  the  Austrian  alliance  has  been  torn  in 
pieces,  the  alliance  itself  still  exists.  The  truth  has 
freed  us,  but  soon  the  imperial  lansquenets  will  come 
and  try  to  place  us  again  under  the  yoke  of  slavery." 

Thus,  in  consequence  of  so  many  violent  shocks,  the 
two  parties  that  divided  Switzerland  had  attained  the 
highest  degree  of  irritation.  The  gulf  that  separated 
them  widened  daily.  The  clouds — the  forerunners  of 
the  tempest — drove  swiftly  along  the  mountains,  and 
gathered  threateningly  abo^-e  the  valleys.     Under  these 


circumstances  Zwingle  and  his  friends  thought  it  their 
duty  to  raise  their  voices,  and  if  possible  to  avert  the 
storm.  In  like  manner  Nicholas  de  Flue  had,  in  for- 
mer days,  thrown  himself  between  the  hostile  parties. 

On  the  5th  September,  1530,  the  principal  ministers 
of  Zurich,  Berne,  Bille,  and  Strasburg, — O^colampa- 
dius,  Capito,  Megander,  Leo  Juda,  and  Myconius, — 
were  assembled  at  Zurich  in  Zwingle's  house.  De- 
sirous of  taking  a  solemn  step  with  the  Five  Cantons, 
they  drew  up  an  address  that  was  presented  to  the 
Confederates  at  the  meeting  of  the  diet  at  Baden. 
However  unfavourable  the  deputies  were,  as  a  body, 
to  these  heretical  ministers,  they  nevertheless  listened 
to  this  epistle,  but  not  without  signs  of  impatience  and 
weariness.  "  You  are  aware,  gracious  lords,  that  con- 
cord increases  the  power  of  states,  and  that  discord 
overthrows  them.  You  arc  yourselves  a  proof  of  the 
fii-st  of  these  truths.  Setting  out  from  a  small  begin- 
ning, you  have,  by  a  good  understanding  one  with 
another,  arrived  at  a  great  end.  May  God  condescend 
to  prevent  you  also  from  giving  a  striking  proof  of  the 
second !  Whence  comes  disunion,  if  not  from  selfish- 
ness? and  how  can  we  destroy  this  fatal  passion 
except  by  receiving  from  God  the  love  of  the  common 
weal  ?  For  this  reason  we  conjure  you  to  allow  the 
Word  of  God  to  be  freely  preached  among  you,  as  did 
your  pious  ancestors.  When  has  there  ever  existed  a 
government,  even  among  the  heathens,  which  saw  not 
that  the  hand  of  God  alone  upholds  a  nation  ?  Do  not 
two  drops  of  quicksilver  unite  as  soon  as  you  remove 
that  which  separates  them?  Away,  then,  with  that 
which  separates  you  from  our  cities,  that  is,  the 
absence  of  the  Word  of  God ;  and  immediately  the 
Almighty  will  unite  us,  as  our  fathers  were  united. 
Then,  placed  in  your  mountains  as  in  the  centre  of 
Christendom,  you  will  be  an  example  to  it,  its  protec- 
tion and  its  refuge ;  and  after  having  passed  through 
this  vale  of  tears,  being  the  terror  of  the  wicked  and 
the  consolation  of  the  faithful,  you  will  at  last  be 
established  in  eternal  happiness." 

Tiius  frankly  did  these  men  of  God  address  their 
brothers,  the  Waldstettes.  But  then-  voice  was  not 
attended  to.  "The  ministers'  sermon  is  rather  long," 
said  some  of  the  deputies  yawning  and  stretching  their 
arms,  while  others  pretended  to  find  in  it  a  new  cause 
of  complaint  against  the  cities. 

This  proceeding  of  the  ministers  was  useless:  the 
Waldstettes  rejected  the  AVord  of  God,  which  they 
had  been  entreated  to  admit ;  they  rejected  the  hands 
that  were  extended  towards  them  in  the  name  of  Jesus 
Christ.  They  called  for  the  pope  and  not  for  the 
Gospel.     All  hope  of  reconciliation  appeared  lost. 

Some  persons,  however,  had  at  that  time  a  glimpse 
of  what  might  have  saved  Switzerland  and  the  Refor- 
mation— the  aiitonomi/  (self-government)  of  the  Church, 
and  its  independence  of  political  interests.  Had  they 
been  wise  enough  to  decline  the  secular  power  to 
secure  the  triumph  of  the  Gospel,  it  is  probable  that 
harmony  might  have  been  gradually  established  in  the 
Helvetic  cantons,  and  that  the  Gospel  would  have  con- 
quered by  its  Divine  strength.  The  power  of  the 
AVord  of  God  presented  chances  of  success  that  were 
not  afforded  by  pikes  and  muskets.  The  energy  of 
faith,  the  influence  of  charity,  would  have  proved  a 


532 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


securer  protection  to  Christians  against  the  burning 
piles  of  the  WaWstettes  than  diplomatists  and  men-at- 
arms.  None  of  the  reformers  understood  this  so  clearly 
as  CEcolampadius.  His  handsome  countenance,  the 
serenity  of  his  features,  the  mild  expression  of  his  eyes, 
his  long  and  venerable  beard,  the  spirituality  of  his 
expression,  a  certain  dignity  that  inspired  confidence 
and  respect,  gave  him  rather  the  air  of  an  apostle  than 
of  a  reformer.  It  was  the  power  of  the  inner  word  that 
he  particularly  extolled ;  perhaps  he  even  went  too  far 
in  spiritualism.  But,  however  that  may  be,  if  any 
man  could  have  saved  Reform  from  the  misfortunes 
that  were  about  to  befall  it — that  man  was  he.  In 
separatmg  from  the  Papacy,  he  desired  not  to  set  up 
the  magistracy  in  its  stead.  "The  magistrate  who 
should  take  away  from  the  churches  the  authority  that 
belongs  to  them,"  wrote  he  to  Zwingle,  "  would  be 
more  intolerable  than  Antichrist  himself,  (L  e.,  the 
pope.)" — "The  hand  of  the  magistrate  strikes  with 
the  sword,  but  the  hand  of  Christ  heals.  Christ  has 
not  said.  If  tliy  brother  will  not  hear  thee,  tell  it  to  the 
magistrate,  but — tell  it  to  the  Ohnrch.  The  functions 
of  the  State  are  distinct  from  those  of  the  Church. 
The  State  is  free  to  do  many  things  which  the  purity 


of  the  Gospel  condemns."  Qilcolampadius  saw  how 
important  it  was  that  his  convictions  should  prevail 
among  the  reformed.  This  man,  so  mild  and  so 
spiritual,  feared  not  to  stand  forth  boldly  in  defence  of 
doctrines  then  so  novel.  He  expounded  them  before 
a  synodal  assembly,  and  next  developed  them  before 
the  senate  of  Bale.  It  is  a  strange  circumstance  that 
these  ideas,  for  a  moment  at  least,  were  acceptable  to 
Zwingle  ;  but  they  displeased  an  assembly  of  the  breth- 
ren to  whom  he  communicated  them ;  the  politic  Bucer, 
above  all,  feared  that  this  independence  of  the  Church 
would,  in  some  measure,  check  the  exercise  of  the 
civil  power.  The  exertions  of  Qilcolampadius  to  con- 
stitute the  Church  were  not,  however,  entirely  unsuc- 
cessful. In  February,  1531,  a  diet  of  four  reformed 
cantons,  (Bale,  Zurich,  Berne,  and  St.  Gall,)  was  held 
at  Bale,  in  which  it  was  agreed,  that  whenever  any 
difficulty  should  arise  with  regard  to  doctrine  or  wor- 
ship, an  assembly  of  divines  and  laymen  should  be 
convoked,  which  should  examine  what  the  Word  of 


God  said  on  the  matter.  This  resolution,  by  givin 
greater  unity  to  the  renovated  Church,  gave  it  als 
fresh  strength. 


CHAPTER  IV, 

Zwingle  and  the  Christian  State— Zwingle's  Double  Part — Zwingle  and 
Luther  in  Relation  to  Politics — Philip  of  Hesse  and  the  Free  Cities- 
Projected  Union  between  Zwingle  and  Luther  —  Zwingle's  Political 
Action— Project  of  Alliance  against  the  Emperor— Zwingle  Advocates 
Active  Resistance— He  Destines  the  Imperial  Crown  lor  Philip— Faults 
of  the  Reformation— Embassy  to  Venice- Giddiness  of  the  Reformation 
— Projected  Alliance  with  France  — Zwingle's  Plan  of  Alliance — Ap- 
proaching Ruin— Slanders  in  the  Five  Cantons— Violence— Mysterious 
Paper — Berne  and  Bale  Vote  for  Peace — General  Diet  at  Baden — Evan- 
gelical Diet  at  Zurich— Political  Reformation  of  Switzerland— Activity 
of  Zurich. 

But  it  was  too  late  to  tread  in  this  path  which  would 
have  prevented  so  many  disasters.  The  Reformation 
had  already  entered,  with  all  her  sails  set,  upon  the 
stormy  ocean  of  politics,  and  terrible  misfortunes  were 
gathering  over  her.  The  impulse  communicated  to 
the  Reform  came  from  another  than  CEcolampadius. 
Zwingle's  proud  and  piercing  eyes — his  harsh  features 
— his  bold  step — all  proclaimed  in  him  a  resolute  mind 
and  the  man  of  action.  Nurtured  in  the  exploits  of 
the  heroes  of  antiquity,  he  threw  himself,  to  save 
Reform,  in  the  footsteps  of  Demosthenes  and  Cato, 
rather  than  in  those  of  St.  John  and  St.  Paul.  His 
prompt  and  penetrating  looks  were  turned  to  the  right 
and  to  the  left — to  the  cabinets  of  kings  and  the  coun- 
cils of  the  people,  whilst  they  should  have  been  directed 
•siilely  to  God.  We  have  already  seen,  that  as  early  as 
l."»27,  Zwingle,  observing  how  all  the  powers  were 
rising  against  the  Reformation,  had  conceived  the  plan 
(if  a  co-burfjhery,  or  Christian  State,  which  should  unite 
all  the  friends  of  the  Word  of  God  iu  one  holy  and 
powerful  league.  This  was  so  much  the  easier  as 
Zwingle's  reformation  had  won  over  Strasburg,  Augs- 
burg, Ulm,  Reutlingen,  Lindau,  Memmingen,  and 
other  towns  of  Upper  Germany.  Constance  in  De- 
cember, 1527,  Berne  in  June,  1528,  St.  Gall  in  Novem- 
ber of  the  same  year,  Bienne  in  January,  1529,  Mul- 
hausen  in  February,  Bale  in  March,  Schaffhausen  in 
September,  and  Strasburg  in  December,  entered  into 
this  alliance.  This  political  phasis  of  Zwingle's  charac- 
ter is,  in  the  eyes  of  some  persons,  his  highest  claim  to 
glory;  we  do  not  hesitate  to  acknowledge  it  as  his 
greatest  fault.  The  reformer,  deserting  the  paths  of 
the  apostles,  allowed  himself  to  be  led  astray  by  the 
perverse  example  of  Popery.  The  primitive  Church 
never  oppose  their  persecutors  but  with  the  sentiments 
derived  from  the  Gospel  of  peace.  Faith  was  the  only 
sword  by  which  it  vanquished  the  mighty  ones  of  the 
earth.  Zwingle  felt  clearly  that  by  entering  into  the 
ways  of  worldly  politicians,  he  was  leaving  those  of  a 
minister  of  Christ ;  he  therefore  sought  to  justify  him- 
self. "  No  doubt  it  is  not  by  human  strength,"  said 
he,  "  it  is  by  the  strength  of  God  alone  that  the  Word 
of  the  Lord  should  be  upheld.  But  God  often  makes 
use  of  men  as  instruments  to  succour  men.  Let  us 
therefore  unite,  and  from  the  sources  of  the  Rhine  to 
Strasburg,  let  us  form  but  one  people  and  one  alliance." 


PROJECTED  UNION— ZWINGLE'S  FORESIGHT. 


533 


Zwingle  played  two  parts  at  once — lie  was  a  reformer 
and  a  magistrate.  But  these  are  two  cliaracters  that 
ought  not  more  to  be  united  tlian  those  of  a  minister 
and  of  a  soUlier.  We  will  not  altogether  blame  the 
soldiers  and  the  magistrates:  in  forming  leagues  and 
drawing  the  sword,  even  for  the  sake  of  religion,  they 
act  according  to  their  point  of  view,  although  it  is  not 
the  same  as  ours ;  but  we  must  decidedly  blame  the 
Christian  minister  who  becomes  a  diplomatist  or  a 
general. 

In  October,  1529,  as  we  have  already  observed, 
Zwingle  repaired  to  Marburg,  whitlier  he  had  been 
invited  by  Philip  of  Hesse ;  and  while  neither  of  them 
had  been  able  to  come  to  an  understanding  with  Luther, 
tlie  landgrave  and  the  Swiss  reformer,  animated  by  the 
same  bold  and  enterprising  spirit,  soon  agreed  together. 

The  two  reformers  differed  not  less  in  their  political 
than  in  their  religious  system.  Luther,  brought  up  iu 
tiie  cloister  and  in  monastic  submission,  was  imbued  in 
youtii  with  the  writings  of  the  Fathers  of  the  Cliurch ; 
Zwingle,  on  the  other  hand,  reared  in  the  midst  of 
Swiss  liberty,  had,  during  those  early  years  which 
decide  the  course  of  all  the  rest,  imbibed  the  history  of 
the  ancient  republics.  Thus,  while  Luther  was  iu 
favour  of  a  passive  obedience,  Zwingle  advocated  re- 
sistance against  tyrants. 

These  two  men  were  the  faithful  representatives  of 
their  respective  nations.  In  the  north  of  Germany,  the 
princes  and  nobility  were  the  essential  part  of  the 
nation,  and  the  people — strangers  to  all  political  liberty 
— had  only  to  obey.  Thus,  at  the  epoch  of  the  Refor- 
mation they  were  content  to  follow  the  voice  of  their 
doctors  and  chiefs.  In  Switzerland,  in  the  south  of 
Germany,  and  on  the  Rhine,  on  the  contrary,  many 
cities,  after  long  and  violent  struggles,  had  won  civil 
liberty ;  and  hence  we  find  in  almost  every  place  the 
people  taking  a  decided  part  in  the  reform  of  the 
Cliurch.  There  was  good  in  this;  but  evil  was  close  at 
hand.  The  reformers,  themselves  men  of  the  people, 
who  dared  not  act  upon  princes,  might  be  tempted  to 
hurry  away  the  people.  It  was  easier  for  the  Refor- 
mation to  unite  with  republics  than  with  kings.  This 
facility  nearly  proved  its  ruin.  The  Gospel  was  thus 
to  learn  that  its  alliance  is  in  heaven. 

There  was,  however,  one  prince  with  whom  the 
reformed  party  of  the  free  states  desired  to  be  in  union  : 
this  was  Philip  of  Hesse.  It  was  he  who  in  great 
measure  prompted  Zwingle's  warlike  projects.  Zwingle 
desired  to  make  him  some  return,  and  to  introduce  his 
new  friend  into  the  evangelical  league.  But  Berne, 
watchful  to  avert  anything  that  might  iiTitate  the 
emperor  and  ita  ancient  confederates,  rejected  this 
proposal,  and  thus  excited  a  lively  discontent  in  the 
"Christian  State." — "What!"  cried  the}',  "do  the 
Bernese  refuse  an  alliance  that  would  be  honourable 
for  us,  acceptable  to  Jesus  Christ,  and  terrible  to  our 
adversaries  ?"  "  The  Bear,"  said  the  high-spirited 
Zwingle,  "  is  jealous  of  the  Lion  (Zurich ;)  but  there 
will  be  an  end  to  all  these  artifices,  and  victory  will 
remain  with  the  bold."  It  would  appear,  indeed, 
according  to  a  letter  in  cipher,  that  the  IJernese  at  last 
sided  with  Zwingle,  requiring  only  that  this  alliance 
with  a  priuce  of  the  empire  should  not  be  made  public. 

Still  CEcolampadius  had  not   given  way,  and  his 


meekness  contended,  although  modestly,  with  the  bold- 
ness of  his  impetuous  friend.  He  was  convinced  that 
faith  was  destined  to  triumph  only  by  the  cordial  union 
of  all  believers.  A  valuable  relief  occurred  to  rc-ani- 
matc  his  exertions.  The  deputies  of  the  Christian  co- 
burghcry  having  assembled  at  Biile  in  ly.30,  the  envoys 
from  Strasburg  endeavoured  to  reconcile  Luther  and 
Zwingle.  Qicolampadius  wrote  to  Zwingle  on  the 
subject,  begging  him  to  hasten  to  Bale,  and  not  shew 
himself  too  unyielding.  "  To  say  that  the  body  and 
blood  of  Christ  are  really  in  the  Lord's  Supper,  may 
appear  to  many  too  hard  an  expression,"  said  he,  "  but 
is  it  not  softened,  when  it  is  added — spiritually  and  not 
bodily?" 

Zwingle  was  immoveable.  "  It  is  to  flatter  Luther 
that  you  hold  such  language,  and  not  to  defend  the 
truth.  Edere  est  credere."  Nevertheless  there  were 
men  present  at  the  meeting  who  were  resolved  upon 
energetic  measures.  Brotherly  love  was  on  the  eve  of 
triumphing:  peace  was  to  be  obtained  by  union.  The 
Elector  of  Saxony  himself  proposed  a  concord  of  all 
evangelical  Christians,  to  which  the  Swiss  cities  were 
invited  by  the  landgrave  to  accede.  A  report  spread 
that  Luther  and  Zwingle  were  about  to  make  the  same 
confession  of  faith.  Zwingle,  calling  to  mind  the  early 
professions  of  the  Saxon  reformer,  said  one  day  at  table 
before  many  witnesses,  that  Luther  would  not  think  so 
erroneously  about  the  Eucharist  if  be  were  not  misled 
by  Melancthou.  The  union  of  the  whole  of  the  Refor- 
mation seemed  about  to  be  concluded :  it  would  have 
vanquished  by  its  own  weapons.  But  Luther  soon 
proved  that  Zwingle  was  mistaken  in  his  expectations. 
He  required  a  written  engagement  by  which  Zwingle 
and  CEcolampadius  should  adhere  to  his  sentiments, 
and  the  negotiations  were  broken  off  in  consequence. 
Concord  having  failed,  there  remained  nothing  but 
war.  CEcolampadius  must  be  silent,  and  Zwingle 
must  act. 

And  iu  truth  from  that  hour  Zwingle  advanced 
more  and  more  along  that  fatal  path  into  which  he 
was  led  by  his  character,  his  patriotism,  and  his 
early  habits.  Stunned  by  so  many  violent  shocks, 
attacked  by  his  enemies  and  by  his  brethren,  he  stag- 
gered, and  his  head  grew  dizzy.  From  this  period  the 
reformer  almost  entirely  disappears,  and  we  see  in  his 
place  the  politician,  the  great  citizen,  who  beholding 
a  formidable  coalition  preparing  its  chains  for  every 
nation,  stands  up  energetically  against  it.  The  em- 
peror had  just  formed  a  close  alliance  with  the  pope. 
If  his  deadly  schemes  were  not  opposed  it  would  be  all 
over,  in  Zwingle's  opinion,  with  reformation,  wi  h 
religious  and  political  liberty,  and  even  with  the  ccn- 
federation  itself.  "  The  emperor,"  said  he,  "  is  stir- 
ring up  friend  against  friend,  enemy  against  enemy: 
and  then  he  endeavours  to  raise  out  of  this  confusion 
the  glory  of  the  Papacy,  and,  above  all,  his  own  power. 
He  excites  the  Chatelain  of  JIusso  against  the  Grisons 
— Duke  George  of  Saxony  against  Duke  John  —  the 
Bishop  of  Constance  against  the  city — the  Duke  of 
Savoy  against  Berne — the  Five  Cantons  against  Zurich 
— and  the  bishops  of  the  Rhine  against  the  landgrave ; 
then,  when  the  confusion  shall  have  become  general, 
he  will  fall  upon  Germany,  will  offer  himself  as  a  me- 
diator, and  ensnare  princes  and  cities  by  fine  speeches, 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


until  he  has  them  all  under  his  feet.  Alas !  what  dis- 
cord, what  disasters,  under  the  pretence  of  re-estab- 
lishing the  empire  and  restoring  religion !"  Zwingle 
went  farther.  The  reformer  of  a  small  town  in  Swit- 
zerland, rising  to  the  most  astonishing  political  concep- 
tions, called  for  a  European  alliance  against  such  fatal 
designs.  The  son  of  a  peasant  of  the  Tockenburg  held 
up  his  head  against  the  heir  of  so  many  crowns.  "  That 
man  must  either  be  a  traitor  or  a  coward,"  wrote  he  to 
a  senator  of  Constance,  "  who  is  content  to  stretch  and 
yawn,  when  he  ought  to  be  collecting  men  and  arms 
on  every  side,  to  convince  the  emperor  that  in  vain  he 
strives  to  re-establish  the  Eomish  faith,  to  enslave  the 
free  cities,  and  to  subdue  the  Helvetians.  He  shewed 
us  only  six  months  ago  how  he  would  proceed.  To- 
day he  will  take  one  city  iu  hand,  to-morrow  another; 
and  so,  step  by  step,  until  they  are  all  reduced.  Then 
their  arms  will  be  taken  away,  theu-  treasures,  their 
machines  of  war,  and  all  their  power.  .  .  .  Arouse 
Lindau  and  all  your  neighbours  ;  if  they  do  not  awake 
public  liberty  will  perish  under  the  pretext  of  religion. 
We  must  place  no  confidence  in  the  friendship  of 
tyrants.  Demosthenes  teaches  us  that  there  is  nothing 
so  hateful  in  their  eyes  as  tiiv  tuv  voXiuv  (XevBepim.^  The 
emperor  with  one  hand  offers  us  bread,  but  iu  the 
other  he  conceals  a  stone."  And  a  few  months  later 
Zwingle  wrote  to  hia  friends  iu  Constance:  "Be  bold; 
fear  not  the  schemes  of  Charles.  The  razor  will  cut 
him  who  is  sharpening  it." 

Away,  then,  with  delay!  Should  they  wait  until 
Charles  the  Fifth  claimed  the  ancient  castle  of  Haps- 
burg?  The  Papacy  and  the  empire,  it  was  said  at 
Zurich,  are  so  confounded  together,  that  one  cannot 
exist  or  perish  without  the  other.  Whoever  rejects 
Popery  should  reject  the  empire,  and  whoever  rejects 
the  emperor  should  reject  the  pope. 

It  appears  that  Zwingle's  thoughts  oven  went  beyond 
a  simple  resistance.  When  once  the  Gospel  had  ceased 
to  be  his  principal  study,  there  was  nothing  that  could 
arrest  him.  "  A  single  individual,"  said  he,  "  must  not 
take  it  into  his  head  to  dethrone  a  tyrant ;  this  would 
be  a  revolt,  and  the  kingdom  of  God  commands  peace, 
righteousness,  and  joy.  But  if  a  whole  people  with 
common  accord,  or  if  the  majority  at  least  rejects  him, 
without  committing  any  excess,  it  is  God  himself  who 
acts."  Charles  V.  was  at  that  time  a  tyrant  in  Zwingle's 
eyes ;  and  the  reformer  hoped  that  Europe,  awakening 
at  length  from  its  long  slumber,  would  be  the  hand  of 
God  to  hurl  him  from  his  throne. 

Never  since  the  time  of  Demosthenes  and  of  the  two 
Catos  had  the  world  seen  a  more  energetic  resistance 
to  the  power  of  its  oppressors.  Zwingle,  in  a  political 
point  of  view,  is  one  of  the  greatest  characters  of 
modern  times :  we  must  pay  him  this  honour,  which 
is,  perhaps,  for  a  minister  of  God,  the  greatest  reproach. 
Everything  was  prepared,  in  his  mind,  to  bring  about 
a  revolution  that  would  have  changed  the  history  of 
Europe.  He  knew  what  he  desired  to  substitute  in 
place  of  the  power  he  wished  to  overthrow.  He  had 
already  cast  his  eyes  upon  the  prince  who  was  to  wear 
the  imperial  crown  instead  of  Charles.  It  was  his 
friend  the  landgi-ave.  "Most  gracious  prince,"  wrote 
he,  on  the  2d  November,  1529,  "if  I  write  to  you  as  a 

1  "The  freedom  of  cities."    These  words  are  iu  Greek  in  the  original. 


child  to  a  father,  it  is  because  I  hope  that  God  has 
chosen  you  for  great  events.  ...  I  dare  think, 
but  I  dare  not  speak  of  them.  .  .  .  However,  we 
must  bell  the  cat  at  last.  .  .  .  All  that  I  can  do 
with  my  feeble  means  to  manifest  the  truth,  to  save 
the  universal  Church,  to  augment  your  power  and  the 
power  of  those  who  love  God — with  God's  help,  1  will 
do."  Thus  was  this  great  man  led  astray.  It  is  the 
will  of  God  that  there  be  spots  even  in  those  who 
shine  brightest  iu  the  eyes  of  the  world,  and  that  only 
one  upon  earth  shall  say,  \V7iich  of  ijoii]  coiivinceth  me 
of  sin?  We  are  now  viewing  the  faults  of  the  Refor- 
mation :  they  arise  from  the  imion  of  religion  with 
politics.  I  could  not  take  upon  myself  to  pass  them 
by;  the  recollection  of  the  errors  of  our  predecessors  is 
perhaps  the  most  useful  legacy  they  have  bequeathed 
to  us. 

It  appears  that  already  at  Mai'burg  Zwingle  and  the 
landgrave  had  drawn  out  the  first  sketch  of  a  general 
alliauce  against  Charles  V.  The  landgrave  had  under- 
taken to  bring  over  the  princes,  Zwingle  the  free  cities 
of  Southern  Germany  and  Switzerland.  He  went  still 
farther,  and  formed  a  plan  of  gaining  over  to  this 
league  the  republics  of  Italy — the  powerful  Venice  at 
least — that  she  might  detain  the  emperor  beyond  the 
Alps,  and  prevent  him  from  leading  all  his  forces  into 
Germany.  Zwingle,  who  had  earnestly  pleaded  against 
all  foreign  alliances,  and  proclaimed  on  so  many  occa- 
sions that  the  only  ally  of  the  Swiss  should  be  the  arm 
of  the  Almighty,  began  now  to  look  around  for  what 
he  had  condemned,  and  thus  prepared  the  way  for  the 
terrible  judgment  that  was  about  to  strike  his  family, 
his  country,  and  his  Church. 

He  had  hardly  returned  from  Marburg,  and  had 
made  no  official  communication  to  the  Great  Council, 
when  he  obtained  from  the  senate  the  nomination  of 
an  ambassador  to  Venice.  Great  men,  after  their  first 
success,  easily  imagine  that  they  can  do  everything.  It 
was  not  a  statesman  who  was  charged  with  this  mission, 
but  one  of  Zwingle's  friends,  who  had  accompanied 
him  into  Germany,  to  the  court  of  the  future  chief  of 
the  new  empire — the  Greek  professor,  Rodolph  Collins, 
a  bold  and  skilful  man,  and  who  knew  Italian.  Thus 
the  Reform  stretched  its  hands  to  the  Doge  and  the 
Procurator  of  St.  Marc.  The  Bible  was  not  enough 
for  it — it  must  have  the  Golden  Book:  never  did  a 
greater  humiliation  befall  God's  work.  The  opinion 
which  Protestants  then  entertained  of  Venice  may, 
however,  partly  excuse  Zwingle.  There  was  in  that 
city  more  independence  of  the  pope,  more  freedom  of 
thought,  than  in  all  the  rest  of  Italy.  Luther  himself 
about  this  time  wrote  to  Gabriel  Zwilliug,  pastor  at 
Torgau :  "  With  what  joy  do  I  learn  what  you  write  to 
me  concerning  the  Venetians.  God  be  praised  and 
glorified,  for  that  they  have  received  His  Word!" 

Collins  was  admitted,  on  the  2Gth  December,  to  an 
audience  with  the  doge  and  senate,  who  looked  with  an 
air  of  astonishment  at  this  schoolmaster,  this  strange 
ambassador,  without  attendants,  and  without  parade. 
They  could  not  even  understand  his  credentials,  in  so 
singular  a  style  were  they  drawn  up,  and  Collins  was 
forced  to  explain  their  meaning.  "I  am  come  to  you," 
said  he,  "in  the  name  of  the  council  of  Zurich  and  of 
the  cities  of  the  Christian  co-burghery — free  cities,  like 


PROJECTED  ALLIANCE  WITH  FEANCE. 


Venice,  and  to  ■\vliich  common  interests  should  unite 
you.  The  power  of  the  emperor  is  formidable  to 
ropublics ;  he  is  aiming  at  a  universal  monarchy  in 
Europe ;  if  he  succeeds,  all  the  free  states  will  perish. 
AVe  must  therefore  check  him."  Tlie  doge  replied  that 
the  republic  had  just  concluded  an  alliance  with  the 
emperor,  and  betrayed  the  distrust  that  so  mysterious 
a  mission  excited  in  the  Venetian  senate.  But  after- 
wards, in  a  private  conference,  the  doge,  wishing  to 
preserve  a  retreat  on  both  sides,  added,  that  Venice 
gratefully  received  the  message  from  Zurich,  and  that 
a  Venetian  regiment,  armed  and  paid  by  the  republic 
itself,  should  be  always  ready  to  support  the  evangelical 
Swiss.  The  chancellor,  covered  with  his  purple  robe, 
attended  Collins  to  the  door,  and,  at  the  very  gates  of 
the  ducal  palace,  confirmed  the  promise  of  support. 
The  moment  the  Reformation  passed  the  magnificent 
porticos  of  St.  Marc  it  was  seized  with  giddiness ;  it 
could  but  stagger  onwards  to  the  abyss.  They  dis- 
missed poor  Collins  by  placing  iu  his  hands  a  present 
of  twenty  crowns.  The  rumour  of  these  negotiations 
soon  s{)read  abroad,  and  the  less  suspicious,  Capito  for 
example,  shook  their  heads,  and  could  see  in  this  pre- 
tended agreement  nothing  but  the  accustomed  perfidy 
of  Venice. 

This  was  not  enough.  The  cause  of  the  Reform  was 
fated  to  drink  the  cup  of  degradation  to  the  veiy  dregs. 
Zwiugle,  seeing  that  his  adversaries  in  the  empire  in- 
creased daily  in  numbers  and  in  power,  gradually  lost 
his  ancient  aversion  for  France;  and,  although  there 
was  now  a  greater  obstacle  than  before  between  him 
and  Francis  I., — the  blood  of  his  brethren  shed  by  that 
monarch, — he  shewed  Iiimself  favourably  disposed  to  a 
union  that  he  had  once  so  forcibly  condemned. 

Lambert  Maigret,  a  French  general,  who  appears  to 
have  had  some  leaning  to  the  Gospel — which  is  a  slight 
excuse  for  Zwingle — entered  into  correspondence  with 
the  reformer,  giving  him  to  understand  that  the  secret 
designs  of  Charles  V.  called  for  an  alliance  between 
the  King  of  France  and  the  Swiss  republics.  "  Apply 
yourself,"  said  this  diplomatist  to  him,  in  1530,  "to 
a  work  so  agreeable  to  our  Creator,  and  which,  by 
God's  gi-aco,  will  be  very  easy  to  your  mightiness." 
Zwingle  was  at  first  astonished  at  these  overtures. 
"The  King  of  France,"  thought  he,  "cannot  know 
which  way  to  turn.  Twice  he  took  no  heed  of  this 
prayer ;  but  the  envoy  of  Francis  I.  insisted  that  the 
reformer  should  communicate  to  him  a  plan  of  alliance. 
At  the  third  attempt  of  the  ambassador,  the  simple 
cliild  of  the  Tockenburg  mountains  could  no  longer 
resist  his  advances.  If  Charles  V.  must  fall,  it  cannot 
be  without  French  assistance ;  and  why  should  not  the 
Reformation  contract  an  alliance  with  Francis  I.,  the 
object  of  which  would  be  to  establish  a  power  iu  the 
empire  that  should  in  its  turn  oblige  the  king  to  tole- 
rate the  Reform  in  his  own  dominions  ?  Everything 
seemed  to  meet  the  wishes  of  Zwingle ;  the  fall  of  the 
tyrant  was  at  hand,  and  he  would  drag  the  pope  along 
with  him.  lie  communicated  the  general's  overtiu-es 
to  the  secret  council,  and  Collins  set  out,  commissioned 
to  bear  the  reipiired  project  to  the  French  ambassador. 
"In  ancient  times,"  it  ran,  "no  kings  or  people  ever 
resisted  the  Roman  empire  with  such  firmness  as  those 
of  France  and  Switzerland,    Let  us  not  degenerate 


from  the  virtues  of  our  ancestors.  His  most  Christian 
]\Iajcsty — all  whose  wishes  arc  that  the  purity  of  the 
Gospel  may  remain  undefiled — engages  therefore  to 
conchidc  an  alliance  with  the  Christian  co-burghery 
that  shall  be  in  acc<n-dance  with  tlic  Divine  law,  and 
that  shall  be  submitted  to  the  censure  of  the  evangeli- 
cal theologians  of  Switzerland."  Then  followed  an 
outline  of  the  different  articles  of  the  treaty. 

Lanzcrant,  another  of  the  king's  envoys,  replied  the 
same  day  (27th  February)  to  this  astonishing  project 
of  alliance  about  to  be  concluded  between  the  reformed 
Swiss  and  the  persecutor  of  the  French  reformed,  under 
reserve  of  the  censure  of  tJie  theolotjians.  ,  .  .  This 
was  not  what  France  desired :  it  was  Lombardy,  and 
not  the  Gospel,  that  the  king  wanted.  For  that  pur- 
pose he  needed  the  support  of  all  the  Swiss.  But  an 
alliance  which  ranged  the  Roman  Catholic  cantons 
against  him,  would  not  suit  him.  Being  satisfied, 
therefore,  for  the  present  with  knowing  the  sentiments 
of  Zurich,  the  French  envoys  began  to  look  coolly 
upon  the  reformers'  scheme.  "  The  matters  you  have 
submitted  to  us  arc  admirably  drawn  up,"  said  Lau- 
zerant  to  the  Swiss  commissioner ;  "  but  I  can  scarcely 
understand  them,  no  doubt  because  of  the  weakness  of 
my  mind.     .  "Wc  must  not  put  any  seed  into 

the  ground,  unless  the  soil  be  properly  prepared  for  it." 

Thus  the  Reform  acquii-ed  nothing  but  shame  from 
these  propositions.  Since  it  had  forgotten  these  pre- 
cepts of  the  Word  of  God :  Be  ye  not  unequalli)  yoked 
torjether  with  unbelievers !  how  could  it  fail  to  meet  with 
striking  reverses?  Already  Zwingle's  friends  began 
to  abandon  him.  The  landgrave,  who  had  pushed 
hun  into  this  diplomatic  career,  drew  towards  Luther, 
and  sought  to  check  the  Swiss  reformer,  particularly 
after  this  saying  of  Erasmus  had  sounded  in  the  ears 
of  the  great :  "  They  ask  us  to  open  our  gates,  crying 
aloud — the  Gospel !  the  Gospel !  .  .  .  Raise  the 
cloak,  and  under  its  mysterious  folds  you  will  find- 
democracy." 

While  the  Reform,  by  its  culpable  proceedings,  was 
calling  down  the  chastisement  of  Heaven,  the  Five 
Cantons,  that  were  to  be  the  instruments  of  its  punish- 
ment, accelerated  with  all  their  might  those  fatal  days 
of  auger  and  of  vengeance.  They  were  irritated  at  the 
progress  of  the  Gospel  throughout  the  confederation, 
while  the  peace  they  had  signed  became  every  day 
more  irksome  to  them.  "  We  shall  have  no  repose," 
said  they,  "  until  we  have  broken  these  bonds  and 
regained  our  former  liberty."  A  general  diet  was  con- 
voked at  Baden  for  the  8tli  .January,  1531.  The  Five 
Cantons  then  declared  that  if  justice  was  not  done  to 
their  grievances,  particularly  with  respect  to  the  abbey 
of  St.  Gall,  they  would  no  more  appear  in  diet.  "  Con- 
federates of  Glaris,  Schaffhausen,  Fribm-g,  Solem'e, 
and  Appeuzell,"  cried  they,  "  aid  us  in  making  our 
ancient  alliances  respected,  or  we  will  ourselves  con- 
trive the  means  of  checking  this  guilty  violence;  and 
may  the  Holy  Trinity  assist  us  in  this  work!" 

They  did  not  confine  themselves  to  threats.  The 
treaty  of  peace  had  expressly  forbidden  all  insulting 
language — "  for  fear,"  it  is  said,  "  that  by  insults  and 
calumnies,  discord  should  again  be  excited,  and  greater 
troubles  than  the  former  should  arise."  Thus  was 
concealed  in  the  treaty  itself  the  spark  whence  the 


536 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


conflagration  was  to  proceed.  lu  fact,  to  restrain  the 
rude  tongues  of  the  Waldstettes  was  impossible.  Two 
Zurichers,  the  aged  prior  Kaveusbiihler,  and  the  pen- 
sioner Gaspard  Godli,  who  had  been  compelled  to 
renounce,  the  one  his  convent,  and  the  other  his  pen- 
sion, especially  aroused  the  anger  of  the  people  against 
their  native  city.  They  used  to  say  everywhere  in  these 
valleys,  and  with  impunit}',  that  the  Zurichers  were 
heretics ;  that  there  was  not  one  of  them  who  did  not 
indulge  in  unnatural  sins,  and  who  was  not  a  robber  at 
the  very  least ;  that  Zwingle  was  a  thief,  a  murderer, 
and  an  arch-heretic ;  and  that,  on  one  occasion  at  Paris, 
(where  he  had  never  been,)  he  had  committed  a  horrible 
offence,  in  which  Leo  Juda  had  been  his  pander.  "  I 
shall  have  no  rest,"  said  a  pensioner,  "until  I  have 
thrust  my  sword  up  to  the  hilt  in  the  heart  of  this 
impious  wretch."  Old  commanders  of  troops,  who 
were  feared  by  all  on  account  of  their  unruly  charac- 
ter ;  the  satellites  who  followed  in  their  train ;  inso- 
lent young  people,  sons  of  the  first  persons  in  the 
state,  who  thought  everything  lawful  against  miser- 
able preachers  and  their  stupid  flocks ;  priests  inflamed 
with  hatred,  and  treading  in  the  footsteps  of  these  old 
captains  and  giddy  young  men,  who  seemed  to  take 
the  pulpit  of  a  church  for  the  bench  of  a  pot-house : 
all  poured  torrents  of  insults  on  the  Eeform  and  its 
adherents.  "  The  townspeople," .  exclaimed  with  one 
accord  these  drunken  soldiers  and  fanatic  priests,  "  are 
heretics,  soul-stealers,  conscience-slayers,  and  Zwingle 
— that  horrible  man,  who  commits  infamous  sins — is 
the  Lutheran  God." 

They  went  still  farther.  Passing  from  words  to 
deeds,  the  Five  Cantons  persecuted  the  poor  people 
among  them  who  loved  the  Word  of  God,  flung  them 
into  prison,  imposed  fines  upon  them,  brutally  tor- 
mented them,  and  mercilessly  expelled  them  from  their 
country.  The  people  of  Schwytz  did  even  worse. 
Not  fearing  to  announce  their  sinister  designs,  they 
appeared  at  a  landsgemeinde  wearing  pine  branches  in 
their  hats,  in  sign  of  war,  and  no  one  opposed  them. 
"The  Abbot  of  St.  Gall,"  said  they,  "is  a  prince  of 
the  empire,  and  holds  his  investiture  from  the  emperor. 
Do  they  imagine  that  Charles  V.  will  not  avenge  him  V 
— "Have  not  these  heretics,"  said  others,  "dared  to 
form  a  Christian  fraternity,  as  if  old  Switzerland  was  a 
heathen  country?"  Secret  councils  were  continually 
held  in  one  place  or  another.  New  alliances  were 
sought  with  tlie  Valais,  the  pope,  and  the  emperor, — 
blameable  alliances,  no  doubt,  but  such  as  they  might 
at  least  justify  by  the  proverb :  "  Bu'ds  of  a  feather  go 
together ;"  which  Zurich  and  Venice  could  not  say. 

The  Valaisaus  at  first  refused  their  support:  they 
preferred  remaining  neuter;  but  on  a  sudden  their 
fanaticism  was  inflamed.  A  sheet  of  paper  was  found 
on  an  altar — such  at  least  was  the  report  circulated  in 
their  valleys — in  which  Zurich  and  Berne  were  accused 
of  preaching,  that  to  commit  an  offence  against  nature 
is  a  smaller  crime  than  to  hear  mass  !  Who  had  placed 
this  mysterious  paper  on  the  altar?  Came  it  from 
man  ?  Did  it  fall  from  heaven  ?  .  .  .  They  know 
not ;  but  however  that  might  be,  it  was  copied,  circu- 
lated, and  road  everywhere ;  and  the  effects  of  this 
fable,  invented  by  some  villain,  says  Zwingle,  was  such 
that  Valais  immediately  granted  the  support  it  had  at 


first  refused.  The  Waldstettes,  proud  of  their  strength, 
then  closed  their  ranks ;  their  fierce  eyes  menaced  the 
heretical  cantons;  and  the  winds  bore  from  their  moun- 
tains to  their  neighbours  of  the  towns  a  formidable 
clang  of  arms. 

At  the  sight  of  these  alarming  manifestations  the 
evangelical  cities  were  in  commotion.  They  first  as- 
sembled at  Bale,  in  February,  1531,  then  at  Zurich,  in 
March.  "  What  is  to  be  done?"  said  the  deputies  from 
Zurich,  after  setting  forth  their  grievances  ;  "  how  can 
we  punish  these  infamous  calumnies,  and  force  these 
threatening  arms  to  fall?" — "We  understand,"  replied 
Berne,  "  that  you  would  have  recourse  to  violence ;  but 
think  of  these  secret  and  formidable  alliances  that  are 
forming  with  the  pope,  the  emperor,  the  King  of 
France,  mth  so  many  princes,  in  a  word,  with  all  the 
priests'  party,  to  accelerate  our  ruin  ;  think  on  the  in- 
nocence of  so  many  pious  souls  in  the  Five  Cantons, 
who  deplore  these  perfidious  machinations ;  think  how 
easy  it  is  to  begin  a  war,  but  that  no  one  can  tell  when 
it  wiU  end."  Sad  foreboding !  which  a  catastrophe, 
beyond  all  human  foresight,  accomplished  but  too  soon. 
"  Let  us  therefore  send  a  deputation  to  the  Five  Can- 
tons," continued  Berne ;  "  let  us  call  upon  them  to 
punish  these  infamous  calumnies  in  accordance  with 
the  treaty;  and  if  they  refuse,  let  us  break  off  all  inter- 
course with  them." — "What  will  be  the  use  of  this 
mission  ?"  asked  B;"de.  "  Do  we  not  know  the  brutality 
of  this  people  ?  And  is  it  not  to  be  feared,  that  the 
rough  treatment  to  which  our  deputies  will  be  exposed, 
may  make  the  matter  worse  ?  Let  us  rather  convoke 
a  general  diet."  Schaffhausen  and  St.  Gall  having 
concun-ed  in  this  opinion,  Berne  summoned  a  diet  at 
Baden  for  the  10th  April,  at  which  deputies  from  all 
the  cantons  were  assembled. 

Many  of  the  principal  men  among  the  Waldstettes 
disapproved  of  the  violence  of  the  retired  soldiers  and 
of  the  monks.  They  saw  that  these  continually  re- 
peated insults  would  injure  their  cause.  "The  insults 
of  which  you  complain,"  said  they  to  the  diet,  "afflict 
us  no  less  than  you.  We  shall  know  how  to  punish 
them,  and  we  have  already  done  so.  But  there  are 
violent  men  on  both  sides.  The  other  day,  a  man  of 
Bale  having  met  on  the  high  road  a  person  who  was 
coming  from  Berne,  and  having  learnt  that  he  was 
going  to  Lucerne :  'To  go  from  Berne  to  Lucerne,' 
exclaimed  he,  '  is  passing  from  a  father  to  an  arrant 
knave !'"  The  mediating  cantons  invited  the  two  par- 
ties to  banish  every  cause  of  discord. 

But  the  war  of  the  chatelain  of  Musso  having  then 
broken  out,  Zwingle  and  Zurich,  who  saw  in  it  the 
first  act  of  a  vast  conspiracy,  destined  to  stifle  the 
Reform  in  every  place,  called  their  allies  together. 
"  We  must  waver  no  longer,"  said  Zwingle ;  "  the  rup- 
ture of  the  alliance  on  the  part  of  the  Five  Cantons, 
and  the  unheard-of  insults  with  which  they  load  us, 
impose  upon  us  the  obligation  of  marching  against  our 
enemies,  before  the  emperor,  who  is  still  detained  by 
the  Turks,  shall  have  expelled  the  landgrave,  seized 
upon  Strasburg,  and  subjugated  even  ourselves."  All 
the  blood  of  the  ancient  Swiss  seemed  to  boil  in  this 
man's  veins ;  and  while  Uri,  Schwytz,  and  Uuter- 
walden  basely  kissed  the  hand  of  Austria,  this  Zuricher, 
— the  greatest  Helvetian  of  the  age, — faithful  to  the 


EVANGELICAL  DIET  AT  ZURICH. 


537 


memory  of  old  Switzerland,  but  not  so  to  still  holier 
traditions,  followed  in  the  glorious  steps  of  Stauffacher 
and  Winkelricd. 

The  warlike  tone  of  Zurich  alarmed  its  confederates. 
I5:"de  proposed  a  smnmons,  and  then,  in  case  of  refusal, 
the  rupture  of  the  alliance.  Schaffliausen  and  St.  Gall 
were  frightened  even  at  this  step :  "  The  mountaineers, 
so  proud,  indomitable,  and  exasperated,"  said  they, 
"  will  accept  with  joy  the  dissolution  of  the  confedera- 
tion, and  then  shall  we  be  more  advanced  ?"  Such  was 
the  posture  of  affairs,  when,  to  the  great  astonishment 
of  all,  deputies  from  Uri  and  Schwytz  made  their 
appearance.  They  were  coldly  received ;  the  c\ip  of 
honour  was  not  offered  to  them  ;  and  they  had  to  walk, 
according  to  their  own  account,  in  the  midst  of  the 
insulting  cries  of  the  people.  They  unsuccessfully  en- 
deavoured to  excuse  their  conduct.  '"  AVe  have  long 
been  waiting,"  was  the  cold  reply  of  the  diet,  "  to  see 
your  actions  and  your  words  agree."  The  men  of 
Schwytz  and  of  Uri  returned  in  sadness  to  their  homes  ; 
and  the  assembly  broke  up,  full  of  sorrow  and  distress. 

Zwingle  beheld  with  pain  the  deputies  of  the  evan- 
gelical towns  separating  without  having  come  to  any 
decision.  He  no  longer  desired  only  a  reformation  of 
the  Church ;  he  wished  for  a  transformation  in  the 
confederacy;  and  it  was  this  latter  reform  that  he  now 
was  preaching  from  the  pulpit,  according  to  what  we 
learn  from  Bulliuger.  He  was  not  the  only  person 
who  desired  it.  For  a  long  time  the  inhabitants  of  the 
most  populous  and  powerful  towns  of  Switzerland  had 
complained  that  the  Waldstettes,  whose  contingent  of 
men  and  money  was  much  below  theirs,  had  an  equal 
share  in  the  deliberations  of  the  diet,  and  in  the  fruits 
of  their  victories.  This  had  been  the  cause  of  division 
after  the  Burgundiau  war.  The  Five  Cantons,  by 
means  of  their  adherents,  had  the  majority.  Now 
Zwingle  thought  that  the  reins  of  Switzerland  should 
be  placed  in  the  hands  of  the  great  cities,  and,  above 
all,  in  those  of  the  powerful  cantons  of  Berne  and 
Zurich.  New  times,  in  his  opinion,  called  for  new 
forms.  It  was  not  sutRcient  to  dismiss  from  every 
public  ofRce  the  pensioners  of  foreign  princes,  and  sub- 
stitute pious  men  in  their  place ;  the  federal  compact 
must  be  remodelled,  and  settled  upon  a  more  equitable 
basis.  A  national  constituent  assembly  would,  doubt- 
less, have  responded  to  his  wishes.  These  discourses, 
which  were  rather  those  of  a  tribune  of  the  people 
than  of  a  minister  of  Jesus  Christ,  hastened  on  the 
terrible  catastrophe. 

And  indeed  the  animated  words  of  the  patriot  re- 
former passed  from  the  church,  where  they  had  been 
delivered,  into  the  councils  and  the  halls  of  the  guilds, 
into  the  streets  and  the  fields.  The  burning  words  that 
fell  from  this  man's  lips  kindled  the  hearts  of  his 
fellow-citizens.  The  electric  spark,  escaping  with 
noise  and  commotion,  was  felt  even  in  the  most  dis- 
tant cottage.  The  ancient  traditions  of  wisdom  and 
prudence  seemed  forgotten.  Public  opinion  declared 
itself  energetically.  On  the  2'.)th  and  30th  April,  a 
number  of  horsemen  rode  hastily  out  of  Zurich ;  they 
were  envoys  from  the  council,  commissioned  to  remind 
all  the  allied  cities  of  the  encroachment  of  the  Five 
Cantons,  and  to  call  for  a  prompt  and  definitive  de- 
cision.   Reaching  their  several  destinations,  the  mes- 


sengers recapitulated  the  grievances.'  "  Take  care," 
said  they  in  conclusion;  "great  dangers  are  impending 
over  all  of  us.  The  emperor  and  King  Ferdinand  are 
making  vast  preparations;  they  arc  about  to  enter 
Switzerland  with  large  sums  of  money,  and  with  a 
numerous  army." 

Zurich  joined  actions  to  words.  This  state,  being 
resolved  to  make  every  exertion  to  establish  the  free 
preaching  of  the  Gospel  in  those  bailiwicks  where  it 
shared  the  sovereignty  with  the  Roman  Catholic  can- 
tons, desired  to  interfere  by  force  wherever  negotia- 
tions could  not  prevail.  The  federal  rights,  it  must 
be  confessed,  were  trampled  under  foot  at  St.  Gall,  in 
Thurgovia,  in  the  Rhcinthal ;  and  Zurich  substituted 
arbitrary  decisions  in  their  place,  that  excited  the  in- 
dignation of  the  Waldstettes  to  the  highest  degree. 
Thus  the  number  of  enemies  to  the  Reform  kept  in- 
creasing ;  the  tone  of  the  Five  Cantons  became  daily 
more  threatening,  and  the  inhabitauts  of  the  canton  of 
Zurich,  whom  their  business  called  into  the  mountains, 
were  loaded  with  insults,  and  sometimes  badly  treated. 
These  violent  proceedings  excited  in  turn  the  anger  of 
the  reformed  cantons.  Zwingle  traversed  Thurgovia, 
St.  Gall,  and  the  Tockenburg,  eveiywhere  organizing 
synods,  taking  part  in  their  proceedings,  and  preaching 
before  excited  and  enthusiastic  crowds.  In  all  parts 
he  met  with  confidence  and  respect.  At  St.  Gall  an 
immense  crowd  assembled  under  his  windows,  and  a 
concert  of  voices  and  instruments  expressed  the  public 
gratitude  in  harmonious  songs.  "  Let  us  not  abandon 
ourselves,"  he  repeated  continually,  "  and  all  will  go 
well."  It  was  resolved  that  a  meeting  should  be  held 
at  Aran  on  the  12th  May,  to  deliberate  on  a  posture  of 
affairs  that  daily  became  more  critical.  This  meeting 
was  to  be  the  beginning  of  sorrows. 


CHAPTER  V. 

Diet  of  Arau— Helvetic  Unity— Bemc  proposes  to  close  tlie  Markets— Oppo- 
sition of  Zurich— Proposition  Agreed  to  and  Published— Zwingle's  War 
Sermon— Blockade  of  the  Waldstettes— Xo  Bread,  no  Wine,  no  Salt- 
Indignation  of  the  Forest  Cantons — The  Roads  Blockaded — Processions 
— Cry  of  Despair — France  tries  to  Conciliate— Diet  at  Bremgarten— Hope 
—The  Cantons  InBexible- The  Streusjth  of  Zurich  Broken— Discontent 
— Zwingle's  False  Position  — Zwingle  Demands  his  Dismission— The 
Council  Remonsti-ate- He  Remains- Zwingle  at  Bremgarten— Zwingle*3 
Farewell  to  Bullinger- Zwingle's  Agony— Tlie  Forest  Cantons  Reject 
all  Conciliation — Frightful  Omens— The  Comet — Zwingle's  Tranquility. 

Z^vtngle's  scheme  with  regard  to  the  establishment  of 
a  new  Helvetian  constitution  did  not  prevail  in  the  diet 
of  Arau.  Perhaps  it  was  thought  better  to  see  the 
result  of  the  crisis.  Perhaps  a  more  Christian,  a  more 
federal  view — the  hope  of  procuring  the  unity  of  Swit- 
zerland by  uuity  of  faith — occupied  men's  minds  more 
than  the  pre-eminence  of  the  cities.  In  truth,  if  a 
certain  number  of  cantons  remained  with  the  pope, 
the  unity  of  the  confederation  was  destroyed,  it  might 
be  for  ever.  But  if  all  the  confederation  was  brought 
over  to  the  same  faith,  the  ancient  Helvetic  unity  would 

1  They  are  to  be  foun 


538 


HISTORY  OF  THE  EEFOEMATIO^T. 


be  established  on  the  strongest  and  surest  foundation. 
Kow  was  the  time  for  acting — or  never ;  and  there 
must  be  no  fear  of  employing  a  violent  remedy  to 
restore  the  whole  body  to  health. 

Nevertheless,  the  allies  shrank  back  at  the  thought 
of  restoring  religious  liberty  or  political  unity  by  means 
of  arms ;  and  to  escape  from  the  difficulties  in  which 
the  confederation  was  placed,  they  sought  a  middle 
course  between  war  and  peace.  "  There  is  no  doubt," 
said  the  deputies  from  Berne,  "  that  tlie  behaviour  of 
the  Cantons  with  regard  to  the  Word  of  God  fully 
authorizes  an  armed  intervention ;  but  the  perils  that 
threaten  us  on  the  side  of  Italy  and  the  empire — the 
danger  of  arousing  the  lion  from  his  slumber — the 
general  want  and  misery  that  afflict  our  people — the 
rich  harvests  that  will  soon  cover  our  fields,  and  which 
the  war  would  infallibly  destroy — the  great  number  of 
pious  men  among  the  Waldstettes,  and  whose  innocent 
blood  would  flow  along  with  that  of  the  guilty:  all 
these  motives  enjoin  us  to  leave  the  sword  in  the 
scabbard.  Let  us  rather  close  our  markets  against  the 
Five  Cantons;  let  us  refuse  them  corn,  salt,  wine, 
steel,  and  iron  ;  we  shall  thus  impart  authority  to  the 
friends  of  peace  among  them,  and  innocent  blood  will 
be  spared."  The  meeting  separated  forthwith  to  carry 
this  intermediate  proposition  to  the  different  evangeli- 
cal cantons;  and  on  the  15th  May  again  assembled  at 
Zurich. 

Convinced  that  the  means  apparently  the  most 
violent  were,  nevertheless,  both  the  surest  and  most 
humane,  Zurich  resisted  the  Bernese  proposition  with 
all  its  might.  "By  accepting  this  proposition,"  said 
they,  "we  sacrifice  the  advantages  that  we  now  possess, 
and  we  give  the  Five  Cantons  time  to  arm  themselves, 
and  to  fall  upon  us  first.  Let  us  take  care  that  the 
emperor  does  not,  then,  assail  us  on  one  side,  while  our 
ancient  confederates  attack  us  on  the  other ;  a  just  war 
is  not  in  opposition  to  the  Word  of  God ;  but  this  is 
contrary  to  it — taking  the  bread  from  the  mouths  of 
the  innocent  as  well  as  the  guilty ;  straitening  by  hunger 
the  sick,  tlie  aged,  pregnant  women,  children,  and  aU 
who  are  deeply  afflicted  by  the  injustice  of  the  Wald- 
stettes.  We  should  beware  of  exciting  by  this  means 
the  auger  of  the  poor,  and  transforming  into  enemies 
many  who  at  the  present  time  are  oiu-  friends  and 
brothers!" 

We  must  acknowledge  that  this  language,  which  was 
Zwingle's,  contained  much  truth.  But  the  other  cantons, 
and  Berne  in  particular,  were  immoveable.  '•  When  we 
have  once  shed  the  blood  of  our  brothers,"  said  they, 
"  we  shall  never  be  able  to  restore  life  to  those  who 
have  lost  it ;  while  from  the  moment  the  Waldstettes 
have  given  us  satisfaction,  we  shall  be  able  to  put  an 
end  to  all  these  severe  measures.  We  are  resolved  not 
to  begin  the  war."  There  were  uo  means  of  running 
counter  to  such  a  declaration.  The  Zurichers  consented 
to  refuse  supplies  to  the  Waldstettes ;  but  it  was  with 
hearts  full  of  anguish,  as  if  they  had  foreseen  all  that 
this  deplorable  measure  would  cost  them.  It  was  agi-eed 
that  the  severe  step  that  was  now  about  to  be  taken 
shoidd  not  be  suspended  except  by  common  consent, 
and  that,  as  it  would  create  great  exasperation,  each 
one  should  hold  himself  prepared  to  repel  the  attacks 
of  the  enemy.     Ziuich  and  Berne  were  commissioned 


to  notify  this  determination  to  the  Five  Cantons ;  and 
Zurich,  discharging  its  task  with  promptitude,  im- 
mediately forwarded  an  order  to  every  bailiwick  to 
suspend  all  communication  with  the  Waldstettes,  com- 
manding them  at  the  same  time  to  abstain  from  ill 
usage  and  hostile  language.  Thus  the  Reformation, 
becoming  imprudently  mixed  up  with  political  com- 
binations, marched  from  fault  to  fault ;  it  pretended  to 
preach  the  Gospel  to  the  poor,  and  was  now  about  to 
refuse  them  bread! 

On  the  Sunday  following — it  was  Whitsunday — the 
resolution  was  published  from  the  pulpits.  Zwingle 
walked  towards  his,  where  an  immense  crowd  was 
waiting  for  him.  The  piercing  eye  of  this  gi'eat  man 
easily  discovered  the  dangers  of  the  measure  in  a 
political  point  of  view,  and  his  Christian  heart  deeply 
felt  all  its  cruelty.  His  soul  was  overbm-dened,  his 
eyes  downcast.  If  at  this  moment  the  true  character 
of  a  minister  of  the  Gospel  had  awoke  within  him ; — 
if  Zwingle,  with  his  powerful  voice,  had  called  on  th© 
people  to  humiliation  before  God,  to  forgiveness  of  tres- 
passes, and  to  prayer,  safety  might  yet  have  dawned 
on  "  broken-hearted  "  Switzerland.  But  it  was  not  so. 
More  and  more  the  Christian  disappears  in  the  reformer, 
and  the  citizen  alone  remains ;  but  in  that  character  he 
soars  far  above  all,  and  his  policy  is  undoubtedly  the 
most  skilful.  He  saw  clearly  that  every  delay  may 
ruin  Zurich ;  and  after  having  made  his  way  through 
the  congregation,  and  closed  the  book  of  the  Prince  of 
Peace,  he  hesitated  not  to  attack  the  resolution  which 
he  had  just  communicated  to  the  people,  and  on  the 
very  festival  of  the  Holy  Ghost  to  preach  war.  "  He 
who  fears  not  to  call  his  adversary  a  criminal,"  said  he, 
in  his  usual  forcible  language,  "must  be  ready  to  follow 
the  word  with  a  blow.  K  he  does  not  strike  he  wiU 
be  stricken.  Men  of  Zurich !  you  deny  food  to  the 
Five  Cantons,  as  to  evil  doers ;  well !  let  the  blow 
follow  the  threat,  rather  than  reduce  poor  innocent 
creatures  to  starvation.  If,  by  not  taking  the  offensive, 
you  appear  to  believe  that  there  is  not  sufficient  reason 
for  punishing  the  Waldstettes,  and  yet  you  refuse  them 
food  and  drink,  you  will  force  them,  by  this  line  of 
conduct,  to  take  up  arms,  to  raise  their  hands,  and  to 
inflict  punishment  upon  you.  This  is  the  fate  that 
awaits  you." 

These  words  of  the  eloquent  reformer  moved  the 
whole  assembly.  Zwingle's  politic  mind  already  so 
influenced  and  misled  all  the  people,  that  there  were 
few  souls  Christian  enough  to  feel  how  strange  it  was, 
that  on  the  very  day  when  they  were  celebrating  the 
outpouring  of  the  Spirit  of  peace  and  love  upon  the 
Christian  Church,  the  mouth  of  a  minister  of  God 
should  utter  a  provocation  to  v»ar.  They  looked  at 
this  sermon  only  in  a  political  point  of  view:  "It  is  a 
seditious  discourse ;  it  is  an  excitement  to  civU  war !" 
said  some.  "  No,"  replied  others,  "  it  is  the  language 
that  the  safety  of  the  state  requires !"  All  Zurich  was 
agitated.  "  Zurich  has  too  much  fire,"  said  Berne. 
"  Berne  has  too  much  cunning,"  replied  Ziunch. 
Zwingle's  gloomy  prophecy  was  too  soon  to  be  ful- 
filled ! 

No  sooner  had  the  reformed  cantons  communicated 
this  pitOess  decree  to  the  Waldstettes  than  they  hast- 
ened its  execution;  and  Zurich  shewed  the  greatest 


BLOCKADE  OP  THE  WALDSTETTES. 


strictness  respecting  it.  Not  only  the  markets  of 
Zurich  and  of  Berne,  but  also  those  of  the  free  baili- 
wicks of  St.  Gall,  of  the  Tockenbur;;,  of  the  district 
of  Sargans,  and  of  the  valley  of  the  Rhine, — a  country 
partly  under  the  sovereignty  of  the  Waldstettes, — were 
shut  against  the  Five  Cantons.  A  formidable  power 
had  suddenly  encompassed  with  barrenness,  famine, 
and  death,  the  noble  founders  of  Helvetian  liberty. 
Uri,  Schwytz,  Unterwaldcu,  Zug,  and  Lucerne,  were, 
as  it  seemed,  iu  the  midst  of  a  vast  desert.  Their  own 
subjects,  thought  they  at  least,  the  communes  that  have 
taken  the  oath  of  allegiance  to  them,  would  range 
themselves  on  their  side !  But  no ;  Brcmgarten,  and 
even  McUingcu,  refused  all  succour.  Their  last  hope 
was  in  Wesen  and  the  Gastal.  Neither  Berne  nor 
Zurich  had  anything  to  do  there ;  Schwytz  and  Glaris 
alone  ruled  over  them ;  but  the  power  of  their  enemies 
had  penetrated  everywhere.  A  majority  of  thirteen 
votes  had  declared  in  favour  of  Zurich  at  the  landsge- 
meinde  of  Glaris  ;  and  Glaris  closed  the  gates  of  Wesen 
and  of  the  Gastal  against  Schwytz.  In  vain  did  Berne 
itself  cry  out:  "  How  can  you  compel  subjects  to  refuse 
supplies  to  their  lords?"  In  vain  did  Scliwytz  raise 
its  voice  in  indignation,  Zurich  immediately  sent  to 
Wesen — gunpowder  and  bullets.  It  was  upon  Zurich, 
therefore,  that  fell  all  the  odium  of  a  measure  which 
that  city  had  at  first  so  earnestly  combated.  At  Aran, 
at  Brcmgarten,  at  Mellingen,  in  the  free  bailiwicks, 
were  several  carriages  laden  with  provisions  for  the 
Waldstettes.  They  were  stopped,  unloaded,  and  up- 
set :  with  them  barricades  were  erected  on  the  roads 
leading  to  Lucerne,  Schwytz,  and  Zug.  Already  a 
year  of  dearth  had  made  provisions  scarce  in  the  Five 
Cantons ;  already  had  a  frightful  epidemic,  the  Sweat- 
ing Sickness.,  scattered  everywhere  despondency  and 
death:  but  now  the  hand  of  man  was  joined  to  the 
hand  of  God;  the  evil  increased,  and  the  poor  in- 
habitants of  these  mountains  beheld  unheard-of  calami- 
ties approach  with  hasty  steps.  No  more  bread  for 
their  children — no  more  wine  to  revive  their  exhausted 
strength — no  more  salt  for  their  flocks  and  herds! 
Everything  failed  them  that  man  requires  for  subsist- 
ence. One  could  not  see  such  things,  and  be  a  man, 
without  feeling  his  heart  wrung.  In  the  confederate 
cities,  and  out  of  Switzerland,  numerous  voices  were 
raised  against  this  implacable  measure.  What  good 
can  result  from  it?  Did  not  St.  Paul  write  to  the 
Komans:  If  thine  enemy  Imnger,  fiedhim ;  if  he  thirst, 
give  him  drink:  for  in  so  doing  thou  shcdt  heap  coals  of 
fire  on  his  head?  (Rom.  xii.  20.)  And  when  the  magis- 
trates wished  to  convince  certain  refractory  communes 
of  the  utility  of  the  measure :  "  We  desire  no  religious 
war,"  cried  they.  "  If  the  Waldstettes  will  not  believe 
in  God,  let  them  stick  to  the  devil!" 

But  it  was  especially  in  the  Five  Cantons  that  ear- 
nest complaints  were  lieard.  The  most  pacific  indivi- 
duals, and  even  the  secret  partisans  of  the  Reform, 
seeing  famine  invade  their  habitations,  felt  the  deepest 
indignation.  The  enemies  of  Zurich  skilfully  took 
advantage  of  this  disposition  ;  they  fostered  these  mur- 
nrurs ;  and  soon  the  cry  of  anger  and  distress  re-echoed 
from  all  the  mountains.  In  vain  did  Berne  represent 
to  the  Waldstettes  that  it  is  more  cruel  to  refuse  men 
the  nourishment  of  the  soul  than  to  cut  off  that  of  the 


body.  "God,"  replied  these  mountaineers  in  their 
despair, — "  God  causes  the  fruits  of  the  earth  to  grow 
freely  for  all  men!"  They  were  not  content  with 
groaning  in  their  cottages,  and  venting  their  indigna- 
tion in  the  councils ;  they  filled  all  Switzerland  with 
complaints  and  menaces.  "They,  wish  to  employ 
famine  to  tear  us  from  our  ancient  faith ;  they 
wish  to  deprive  our  wives^  and  our  children  of 
bread,  that  they  may  take  from  us  the  liberty  we 
derive  from  our  forefathers.  When  did  such  things 
ever  take  place  iu  the  bosom  of  the  confederation  ? 
Did  we  not  see,  in  the  last  war,  the  confederates  with 
arms  in  their  hands,  and  who  wore  ready  to  draw  the 
sword,  eating  together  from  the  same  dish?  They 
tear  in  pieces  old  friendships — they  trample  our  an- 
cient manners  under  foot — they  violate  treaties — they 
break  alliances.  .  .  .  We  invoke  the  charters  of 
our  ancestors.  Help !  help  I  .  .  ,  AVise  men  of 
our  people,  give  us  your  advice,  and  all  you  who  know 
how  to  handle  the  sling  and  the  sword,  come  and 
maintain  witli  us  the  sacred  possessions,  for  which 
our  fathers,  delivered  from  the  yoke  of  the  sti'anger, 
united  their  arms  and  their  hearts." 

At  the  same  time  the  Five  Cantons  sent  into  Alsace, 
Brisgau,  and  Swabia,  to  obtain  salt,  wine,  and  bread ; 
but  the  administration  of  the  cities  was  implacable ;  the 
orders  were  everywhere  given,  and  everywhere  strictly 
executed.  Zurich  and  the  other  allied  cantons  inter- 
cepted all  communication,  and  sent  back  to  Germany 
the  supplies  that  had  been  forwarded  to  their  brethren. 
The  Five  Cantons  were  like  a  vast  fortress,  all  the 
issues  from  which  are  closely  guarded  by  watchful 
sentinels.  The  afilicted  Waldstettes,  on  beholding 
themselves  alone  with  famine  between  their  lakes 
and  their  mountains,  had  recourse  to  the  observances 
of  their  worship.  All  sports,  dances,  and  every  kind 
of  amusement,  were  interdicted ;  prayers  were  directed 
to  be  offered  up ;  and  long  processions  covered  the 
roads  of  Einsidlcn  and  other  resorts  of  pilgrims.  They 
assumed  the  belt,  and  staff,  a:id  arms  of  the  brother- 
hood to  which  they  each  belonged ;  each  man  carried  a 
chaplet  in  his  hands,  and  repeated  paternosters  ;  the 
mountains  and  the  valleys  re-echoed  with  their  plain- 
tive hymns.  But  the  Waldstettes  did  still  more :  they 
grasped  their  swords — they  sharpened  the  points  of 
their  halberds — they  brandished  their  weapons  in  the 
direction  of  Zurich  and  of  Berne,  and  exclaimed  with 
rage  :  "  They  block  up  their  roads,  but  we  wUi  op<m 
them  with  our  right  arms!"  No  one  replied  to  this 
cry  of  despair;  but  there  is  a  just  Judge  iu  heaven  to 
wliom  vengeance  belongs,  and  who  will  soon  reply  in  a 
terrible  manner,  by  punishing  those  misguided  persons, 
who,  forgetful  of  Christian  mercy,  and  making  an  im- 
pious mixture  of  political  and  religious  matters,  pretend 
to  secure  the  triumph  of  the  Gospel  by  famine  and  by 
armed  men. 

Some  attempts,  however,  were  made  to  arrange  mat- 
ters ;  but  these  very  efforts  proved  a  great  humiliation 
for  Switzerland  and  for  the  Reform.  It  was  not  the 
ministers  of  the  Gospel,  it  was  France — more  than 
once  an  occasion  of  discord  to  Switzerland — that  offered 
to  restore  peace.  Every  proceeding  calculated  to  in- 
crease its  influence  among  the  cantons  was  of  service 
to  its  policy.    On  the  14th  May,  Maigret  and  Dangertin, 


HISTORY  OP  THE  REFORMATION. 


(the  latter  of  whom  had  received  the  Gospel  truth,  and 
consequently  did  not  dare  return  to  France,)  after  some 
allusions  to  the  spirit  which  Zurich  had  shewn  in  this 
affair — a  spirit  little  in  accordance  with  the  Gospel — 
said  to  the  council :  "  The  king,  our  master,  has  sent 
you  two  gentlemen  to  consult  on  the  means  of  preserv- 
ing concord  among  you.  If  war  and  tumult  invade 
Switzerland,  all  the  society  of  the  Helvetians  will  be 
destroyed,  and  whichever  party  is  the  conqueror,  he 
will  be  as  much  ruined  as  the  other."  Zurich  having 
replied,  that  if  the  Five  Cantons  would  allow  the  free 
preaching  of  the  Word  of  God,  the  reconciliation  would 
be  easy,  the  French  secretly  sounded  the  Waldstettes, 
whose  answer  was :  "We  will  never  permit  the  preach- 
ing of  the  Word  of  God  as  the  people  of  Zurich  under- 
stand it." 

These  more  or  less  interested  exertions  of  the  for- 
eigners having  failed,  a  general  diet  became  the  only 
chance  of  safety  that  remained  for  Switzerland.  One 
was  accordingly  convoked  at  Bremgarten.  It  was 
opened  in  presence  of  deputies  from  France,  from  the 
Duke  of  Milan,  from  the  Countess  of  Neufchatel,  from 
the  Grisons,  Valais,  Thurgovia,  and  the  district  of 
Sargans ;  and  met  on  five  different  occasions, — on  the 
14th  and  20th  of  June,  on  the  9th  July,  and  the  10th 
and  23d  August.  The  chronicler  Bullinger,  who  was 
pastor  of  Bremgarten,  delivered  an  oration  at  the  open- 
ing, in  which  he  earnestly  exhorted  the  confederates  to 
union  and  peace. 

A  gleam  of  hope  for  a  moment  cheered  Switzerland. 
The  blockade  had  become  less  strict ;  friendship  and 
good  neighbourhood  had  prevailed  in  many  places  over 
the  decrees  of  the  state.  Unusual  roads  had  been 
opened  across  the  wildest  mountains  to  convey  supplies 
to  the  Waldstettes.  Provisions  were  concealed  in  bales 
of  merchandise ;  and  while  Lucerne  imprisoned  and 
tortured  its  own  citizens  who  were  found  with  the 
pamphlets  of  the  Zurichers,  Berne  punished  but  slightly 
the  peasants  who  had  been  discovered  bearing  food  for 
Unterwalden  and  Lucerne ;  and  Glaris  shut  its  eyes 
at  the  frequent  violation  of  its  orders.  The  voice  of 
charity,  that  had  been  momentarily  stifled,  pleaded  with 
fresh  energy  the  cause  of  their  confederates  before  the 
reformed  cantons. 

But  the  Five  Cautons  were  inflexible.  "We  will 
not  listen  to  any  proposition  before  the  raising  of  the 
blackade,"  said  they.  "  We  will  not  raise  it,"  replied 
Berne  and  Zurich,  "before  the  Gospel  is  allowed  to 
be  freely  preached,  not  only  in  the  common  bailiwicks, 
but  also  in  the  Five  Cantons."  This  was  undoubtedly 
going  too  far,  even  according  to  the  natural  law  and 
the  principles  of  the  confederation.  The  councils  of 
Zurich  might  consider  it  their  duty  to  have  recourse  to 
war  for  maintaining  liberty  of  conscience  in  the  common 
bailiwicks ;  but  it  was  unjust — it  was  a  usurpation,  to 
constrain  the  Five  Cantons  in  a  matter  that  concerned 
their  own  territory.  Nevertheless  the  mediators  suc- 
ceeded, not  without  much  trouble,  in  drawing  up  a  plan 
of  conciliation  that  seemed  to  harmonize  with  the  wishes 
of  both  parties.  The  conference  was  broken  up,  and 
this  project  was  hastily  transmitted  to  the  different 
states  for  their  ratification. 

The  diet  met  again  a  few  days  after  ;  but  the  Five 
Cantons  persisted  in  their  demand,  without  yielding  in 


any  one  point.  In  vain  did  Zurich  and  Berne  represent 
to  them,  that  by  persecuting  the  reformed,  the  cantons 
violated  the  treaty  of  peace ;  in  vain  did  the  mediators 
exhaust  their  strength  in  warnings  and  entreaties.  The 
parties  appeared  at  one  time  to  approximate,  and  then  on 
a  sudden  they  were  more  distant  and  more  irritated  than 
ever.  The  Waldstettes  at  last  broke  up  the  third  con- 
ference by  declaring,  that  far  from  opposing  the  evan- 
gelical truth,  they  would  maintain  it,  as  it  had  been 
taught  by  the  Redeemer,  by  His  holy  apostles,  by  the 
four  doctors,  and  by  their  holy  mother,  the  Churcli, — a 
declaration  that  seemed  a  bitter  irony  to  the  deputies 
from  Zurich  and  Berne.  Nevertheless  Berne,  turning 
towards  Zurich  as  they  were  separating,  observed : 
"  Beware  of  too  much  violence,  even  should  they  at- 
tack you  !" 

Tliis  exhortation  was  unnecessary.  The  streiigth  of 
Zurich  had  passed  away.  The  first  appearance  of  the 
Reformation  and  of  the  reformers  had  been  greeted 
with  joy.  The  people,  who  groaned  under  a  twofold 
slavery,  believed  they  saw  the  dawn  of  liberty.  But 
their  minds,  abandoned  for  ages  to  superstition  and 
ignorance,  being  unable  immediately  to  realize  the 
hopes  they  had  conceived,  a  spirit  of  discontent  soon 
spread  among  the  masses.  The  change  by  which 
Zwingle,  ceasing  to  be  a  man  of  the  Gospel,  became 
a  man  of  the  State,  took  away  from  the  people  the 
enthusiasm  necessary  to  resist  the  terrible  attacks  they 
would  have  to  sustain.  The  enemies  of  the  Reform 
had  a  fair  chance  against  it,  so  soon  as  its  friends 
abandoned  the  position  that  gave  them  strength.  Be- 
sides, Christians  could  not  have  recourse  to  famine  and 
to  war  to  secure  the  triumph  of  the  Gospel,  without 
their  consciences  becoming  troubled.  The  Zurichers 
ivalked  not  in  the  Spirit,  but  in  the  flesh;  now,  the  works 
of  the  flesh  are  hatred,  variance,  emulations,  xorath,  strife, 
seditions,  (Gal.  v.  10,  20.)  The  danger  without  was 
increasing,  while  within,  hope,  union,  and  courage,  were 
far  from  being  augmented :  men  saw,  on  the  contrary, 
the  gradual  disappearance  of  that  harmony  and  lively 
faith  which  had  been  the  strength  of  the  Reform. 
The  Reformation  had  grasped  the  sword,  and  that 
very  swoi-d  pierced  its  heart. 

Occasions  of  discord  were  multiplied  in  Zurich.  By 
the  advice  of  Zwingle,  the  number  of  nobles  was 
diminished  in  the  two  councils,  because  of  their  op- 
position to  the  Gospel ;  and  this  measure  spread  dis- 
content among  the  most  honourable  families  of  the 
canton.  The  millers  and  bakers  were  placed  under 
certain  regulations,  which  the  dearth  rendered  neces- 
sary, and  a  great  part  of  the  townspeople  attributed 
this  proceeding  to  the  sermons  of  the  reformer,  and 
became  irritated  against  him.  Rodolph  Lavater,  bailiff 
of  Kibourg,  was  appointed  captain-general;  and  the 
oSicers  who  were  of  longer  standing  than  he  were 
offended.  Many  who  had  been  formerly  the  most  dis- 
tinguished by  their  zeal  for  the  Reform,  now  openly 
opposed  the  cause  they  had  supported.  The  ardour 
with  which  the  ministers  of  peace  demanded  war 
spread  in  every  quarter  a  smothered  dissatisfaction, 
and  many  persons  gave  vent  to  their  indignation. 
This  unnatural  confusion  of  Church  and  State,  which 
had  corrupted  Christianity  after  the  age  of  Constantine, 
was  hurrying  on  the  ruin  of  the  Reformation.     The 


ZWIXGLE  AT  BREMGARTEN. 


541 


majority  of  tho  Great  Council,  ever  ready  to  adopt 
important  and  salutary  resolutions,  was  destroyed. 
Tho  old  magistrates,  who  were  still  at  the  head  of 
affaii-s,  allowed  themselves  to  be  carried  away  by  feel- 
ings of  jealousy  against  men  whoso  non-ollicial  influ- 
ence prevailed  over  tlieirs.  All  those  wlio  hated  the 
doctrine  of  the  Gospel,  whether  from  love  of  tho  world 
or  from  love  to  the  pope,  boldly  raised  their  heads  in 
Zurich.  The  partisans  of  the  monks,  the  friends  of 
foreign  service,  tiie  malcontents  of  every  class,  coalesced 
in  pointing  out  Zwiugle  i\s  the  author  of  all  the  suffer- 
ings of  the  people. 

Zwinglc  was  heart-broken.  He  saw  that  Zurich  and 
the  Keforraation  were  hastening  to  their  ruin,  and  he 
conld  not  check  them.  How  could  he  do  so,  since, 
without  suspecting  it,  he  had  been  the  principal  accom- 
plice in  these  disasters  ?  What  was  to  be  done  ?  Should 
the  pilot  remain  in  the  ship  which  he  is  no  longer  per- 
mitted to  save?  There  was  but  one  means  of  safety 
for  Zurich  and  for  Zwingle.  He  should  have  retired 
from  the  political  stage,  and  fallen  back  on  that  kingdom 
which  is  not  of  this  world;  he  should,  like  Moses,  have 
kept  his  hands  and  his  heart  night  and  day  raised  to- 
wards heaven,  and  energetically  preached  repentance, 
faith,  and  peace.  But  religious  and  political  matters 
were  united  in  the  mind  of  this  great  man  by  such  old 
and  dear  ties,  that  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  distin- 
guish their  line  of  separation.  This  confusion  had 
become  his  dominant  idea ;  the  Christian  and  the  citi- 
zen were  for  him  one  and  the  same  character;  and 
hence  it  resulted,  that  all  resources  of  the  state — even 
cannons  and  arquebuses — were  to  be  placed  at  the  ser- 
vice of  the  Truth.  When  one  peculiar  idea  thus  seizes 
upon  a  man,  we  see  a  false  conscience  formed  within 
him,  which  approves  of  many  things  condemned  by  the 
Word  of  the  Lord. 

This  was  now  Zwingle's  condition.  War  appeared 
to  him  legitimate  and  desirable  ;  and  if  that  was  re- 
fused, he  had  only  to  withdraw  from  public  life :  he 
was  for  everything,  or  nothing.  He  therefore,  on  the 
26th  July,  appeared  before  the  Great  Council  with 
dimmed  eyes  and  disconsolate  heart:  "For  eleven 
yc-irs,"  said  he,  "I  have  been  preaching  the  Gospel 
among  you,  and  have  warned  you  faithfully  and  pater- 
nally of  the  woes  that  are  hanging  over  you ;  but  no 
attention  has  been  paid  to  my  words ;  the  friends  of 
foreign  alliances,  the  enemies  of  the  Gospel,  are  elected 
to  the  council,  and  while  you  refuse  to  follow  my  ad- 
vice, I  am  made  responsible  for  every  misfortune.^  I 
cannot  accept  such  a  position,  and  I  ask  for  my  dis- 
mission."    The  reformer  retired  bathed  in  tears. 

The  council  shuddered  as  they  heard  these  words. 
All  the  old  feelings  of  respect  which  they  had  so  long 
entertained  for  Zwingle  were  revived ;  to  lose  him  now 
was  to  ruin  Zurich.  The  burgomaster  and  the  other 
magistrates  received  orders  to  persuade  him  to  recall 
his  fatal  resolution.  The  conference  took  place  on  the 
same  day;  Zwingle  asked  time  for  consideration.  For 
three  days  and  three  nights  he  sought  the  road  that  he 
should  follow.  Seeing  the  dark  storm  that  w.as  col- 
lecting from  all  quarters,  he  considered  whether  he 
ought  to  quit  Zurich  and  seek  refuge  on  the  lofty  hills 
of  the  Tockenburg,  where  he  had  been  reared,  at  a 
time  when  his  country  and  his  Church  were  on  the 


point  of  being  assailed,  and  beaten  down  by  their 
enemies  like  corn  by  tiie  hail-storm.  He  groaned  and 
cried  to  the  Lord.  He  would  have  put  away  the  cup  of 
bitterness  that  was  presented  to  his  soul,  but  could  not 
gather  up  the  resolution.  At  length  the  sacrifice  was 
accomplished,  and  tho  victim  was  placed  sliuddering 
upon  the  altar.  Three  days  after  the  first  conference, 
Zwingle  reappeared  in  the  council :  "  I  will  stay  with 
you,"  said  he,  "  and  I  will  labour  for  the  public  safety 
— until  deiith !" 

From  this  moment  he  displayed  new  zeal.  On  the 
one  hand,  he  endeavoured  to  revive  harmony  and  cour- 
age in  Zurich ;  on  the  other,  he  set  about  arousing  and 
exciting  the  allied  cities  to  increase  and  concentrate  all 
the  forces  of  the  Reformation.  Faithful  to  the  politi- 
cal vocation  he  imagined  to  have  received  from  God 
himself — persuaded  that  it  was  in  the  doubts  and  want 
of  energy  of  the  Bernese  tluit  he  must  look  for  the 
cause  of  all  the  evil,  the  reformer  repaired  to  Brem- 
garten  with  Collius  and  Steiner,  during  the  fourth  con- 
ference of  the  diet,  although  he  incurred  great  danger 
in  the  attempt.  He  arrived  secretly  by  night,  and 
having  entered  the  house  of  his  friend  and  disciple, 
BuUinger,  he  invited  the  deputies  of  Berne  (J.  J.  de 
AVatteville  and  Im  Hag)  to  meet  him  there  with  the 
greatest  secrecy,  and  prayed  them  in  the  most  solemn 
tone  earnestly  to  reflect  upon  the  dangei-s  of  the 
Reform.  "  I  fear,"  said  he,  "  that  in  consequence  of 
our  unbelief,  this  business  will  not  succeed.  By  refus- 
ing supplies  to  the  Five  Cantons,  we  have  begun  a 
work  that  will  be  fatal  to  us.  Wliat  is  to  be  done  ? 
Withdraw  the  prohibition?  The  cantons  will  then  be 
more  insolent  and  haughty  than  ever.  Enforce  it? 
They  will  take  the  offensive,  and  if  their  attack  suc- 
ceed you  will  behold  our  fields  red  with  the  blood  of 
the  believers,  the  doctrine  of  truth  cast  down,  the 
Church  of  Christ  laid  waste,  all  social  relations  over- 
thrown, our  adversaries  more  hardened  and  irritated 
against  the  Gospel,  and  crowds  of  priests  and  monks 
again  filling  our  rural  districts,  streets,  and  temples. 
.  .  .  And  yet,"  added  Zwingle,  after  a  few  instants 
of  emotion  and  silence,  "  that  also  will  have  an  end." 
The  Bernese  were  filled  with  agitation  by  the  solemn 
voice  of  the  reformer.  "  We  see,"  replied  they,  "  all 
that  is  to  be  feared  for  our  common  cause,  and  we  will 
employ  every  care  to  prevent  such  great  disasters." — 
"  I  who  write  these  things  was  present  and  heard  them," 
adds  Bullinger. 

It  was  feared  that  if  the  presence  of  Zwingle  at 
Bremgarten  became  known  to  the  deputies  of  the 
Five  Cantons,  they  would  not  restrain  their  violence. 
During  this  nocturnal  conference  three  of  the  town- 
councillors  were  stationed  as  sentinels  in  front  of 
Bullinger's  house.  Before  daybreak,  the  reformer  and 
his  two  friends,  accompanied  by  Bullinger  and  the 
three  councillors,  passed  through  the  deserted  streets 
leading  to  the  gate,  on  the  road  to  Zurich.  Three  dif- 
ferent times  Zwinglc  took  leave  of  Bullinger,  who  was 
erelong  to  be  his  successor.  His  mind  was  filled  with 
a  presentiment  of  his  approaching  death  ;  he  could  not 
tear  himself  from  that  young  friend  whose  face  he  was 
never  to  see  again;  he  blessed  him  amidst  floods  of 
tears.  "O  my  dear  Henry!"  said  he,  "may  God  pro- 
tect you !     Be  faithful  to  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  and  to 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


His  Church."  At  length  they  separated ;  but  at  that 
very  moment,  says  Bullinger,  a  mysterious  personage, 
clad  in  a  robe  as  white  as  snow,  suddenly  appeared, 
and  after  frightening  the  soldiers  who  guarded  the 
gate,  plunged  suddenly  into  the  water,  and  vanished. 
Bullinger,  Zwingle,  and  their  friends,  did  not  perceive 
it ;  Bullinger  himself  sought  for  it  all  around,  but  to  no 
purpose ;  still  the  sentinels  persisted  in  the  reality  of 
this  frightful  apparition.  Bullinger,  in  great  agitation, 
returned  in  darkness  and  in  silence  to  his  house.  His 
mind  involuntarily  compared  the  departure  of  Zwingle 
and  the  white  phantom  ;  and  he  shuddered  at  the  fright- 
ful omen  which  the  thought  of  this  spectre  impressed 
upon  his  mind. 

Sufferings  of  another  kind  pursued  Zwingle  to  Zurich. 
He  had  thought  that  by  consenting  to  remain  at  the 
head  of  affairs,  he  would  recover  all  his  ancient  in- 
fluence. But  he  was  deceived :  the  people  desired  to 
see  him  there,  and  yet  they  would  not  follow  him.  The 
Zurichcrs  daily  became  more  and  more  indisposed  to- 
wards the  war  which  they  had  at  first  demanded,  and 
identified  themselves  with  the  passive  system  of  Berne. 
Zwingle  remained  for  some  time  stupificd  and  motion- 
less before  this  inert  mass,  which  his  most  vigorous 
exertions  could  not  move.  But  soon  discovering  in 
every  quarter  of  the  horizon  the  prophetic  signs,  pre- 
cursors of  the  storm  about  to  burst  upon  the  ship  of 
which  he  was  the  pilot,  he  uttered  cries  of  anguish,  and 
shewed  the  signal  of  distress.  "I  see,"  exclaimed  he 
one  day  to  the  people  from  the  pulpit,  whither  he  had 
gone  to  give  utterance  to  his  gloomy  forebodings, — "  I 
see  that  the  most  faithful  warnings  cannot  save  you ; 
you  will  not  punish  the  pensioners  of  the  foreigner. 
.  .  .  They  have  too  firm  a  support  among  us !  A 
chain  is  prepared — behold  it  entire — it  unrolls  link 
after  link, — soon  will  they  bind  me  to  it,  and  more 
than  one  pious  Zuricher  with  me.  ...  It  is  against 
me  they  are  enraged!  I  am  ready;  I  submit  to  the 
Lord's  will.  But  these  people  shall  never  be  my 
masters.  ...  As  for  thee,  O  Zurich,  they  will 
give  thee  thy  reward ;  they  will  strike  thee  ou  the  head. 
Thou  wiliest  it.  Thou  refusest  to  punish  them  :  well ! 
it  is  they  who  will  punish  thee.  But  God  will  not  the 
less  preserve  His  Word,  and  their  haughtiness  shall 
come  to  an  end."  Such  was  Zwingle's  cry  of  agony; 
but  the  immobility  of  death  alone  replied.  The  hearts 
of  the  Zurichers  were  so  hardened  that  the  sharpest 
arrows  of  the  reformer  could  not  pierce  them,  and  they 
fell  at  his  feet  blunted  and  useless. 

But  events  were  pressing  on,  and  justified  all  his 
fears.  The  Five  Cantons  had  rejected  every  proposi- 
tion that  had  been  made  to  them.  "  Why  do  you  talk 
of  punishing  a  few  wrongs?"  they  had  replied  to  the 
mediators;  "it  is  a  question  of  quite  another  kind. 
Do  you  not  require  that  we  shoidd  receive  back  among 
us  the  heretics  whom  we  have  banished,  and  tolerate 
no  other  priests  than  those  who  preach  conformably  to 
the  Word  of  God  ?  We  know  what  that  means.  No 
— no — we  will  not  abandon  the  religion  of  our  fathers ; 
and  if  we  must  see  our  wives  and  our  children  deprived 
of  food,  our  hands  will  know  how  to  conquer  what  is 
refused  to  us :  to  that  we  pledge  our  bodies — our  goods 
,  — our  lives."  It  was  with  this  threatening  language 
that  the  deputies  quitted  the  diet  of  Bremgarten,    They 


had  proudly  shaken  the  folds  of  their  mantles,  and  war 
had  fallen  from  them. 

The  terror  was  general,  and  the  alarmed  citizens 
beheld  everywhere  frightful  portents,  terrific  signs, 
apparently  foreboding  the  most  horrible  events.  It 
was  not  only  the  white  phantom  that  had  appeared  at 
Bremgarten  at  Zwingle's  side :  the  most  fearful  omens, 
passing  from  mouth  to  mouth,  tilled  the  people  with 
the  most  gloomy  presentiments.  The  history  of  these 
phenomena,  however  strange  it  may  appear,  character- 
izes the  period  of  which  we  write.  We  do  not  create 
the  times  :  it  is  our  simple  duty  to  paint  them  as  they 
really  were. 

On  the  26th  July,  a  widow,  chancing  to  be  alone 
before  her  house,  in  the  village  of  Castelcnschloss, 
suddenly  beheld  a  frightful  spectacle — blood  springing 
from  the  earth  all  around  her.  She  rushed  in  alarm 
into  the  cottage ;  .  .  .  but,  oh  horrible!  blood  is 
flowing  everywhere — from  the  wainscot  and  from  the 
stones ;  it  falls  in  a  stream  from  a  basin  on  a  shelf, 
and  even  the  child's  cradle  overflows  with  it.  The 
woman  imagines  that  the  invisible  hand  of  an  assassin 
has  been  at  work,  and  rushes  in  distraction  out  of 
doors,  crying,  "  Murder !  murder  ! "  The  villagers 
and  the  monks  of  a  neighbouring  convent  assemble 
at  the  noise — they  succeed  in  partly  effacing  the  bloody 
stains ;  but  a  little  later  in  the  day,  the  other  inhabi- 
tants of  the  house,  sitting  down  in  terror  to  eat  their 
evening  meal  under  the  projecting  eaves,  suddenly  dis- 
cover blood  bubbling  up  in  a  pond — blood  flowing 
from  the  loft — blood  covering  all  the  walls  of  the 
house.  Blood — blood — everywhere  blood  !  The  bailiff 
of  Schenkenberg  and  the  pastor  of  Dalheim  arrive — 
inquire  into  the  matter — and  immediately  report  it  to 
the  lords  of  Berne  and  to  Zwingle. 

Scarcely  had  this  horrible  recital — the  particulars  of 
which  are  faithfully  preserved  in  Latin  and  in  German 
— filled  all  minds  with  the  idea  of  a  horrible  butchery, 
than  ia  the  western  quarter  of  the  heavens  there 
appeared  a  frightful  comet,  whose  immense  train,  of 
a  pale  yellow  colour,  turned  towards  the  south.  At 
the  time  of  its  setting,  this  apparition  shone  in  the 
sky  like  the  fire  of  a  furnace.  One  night — on  the 
15th  August,  as  it  would  appear — Zwingle  and  George 
Miiller,  formerly  abbot  of  Wettingen,  being  together 
in  the  cemetery  of  the  cathedral,  both  fixed  their  eyes 
upon  this  terrific  meteor.  "  This  ominous  globe,"  said 
Zwingle,  "  is  come  to  light  the  path  that  leads  to  my 
grave.  It  will  be  at  the  cost  of  my  life  and  of  many 
good  men  with  me.  Although  I  am  rather  short-sighted, 
1  foresee  gi-eat  calamities  in  the  future.  The  truth  and 
the  Church  will  mourn ;  but  Christ  will  never  forsake 
us.  It  was  not  only  at  Zurich  that  this  flaming  star 
spread  consternation.  Vadian,  being  one  night  on  an 
eminence  in  the  neighbourhood  of  St.  Gall,  surrounded 
by  his  friends  and  disciples,  after  having  explained  to 
them  the  names  of  the  stars  and  the  miracles  of  the 
Creator,  stopped  before  this  comet,  which  denounced 
the  anger  of  God ;  and  the  famous  Theophrastus  de- 
clared that  it  foreboded  not  only  great  bloodshed,  but 
most  especially  the  death  of  learned  and  illustrious 
men.  This  mysterious  phenomenon  prolonged  its  fright- 
ful visitation  until  the  3d  September. 

AVhen  once  the  noise  of  these  omens  was  spread 


ZWINGLE'S  TRANQUILITY. 


abroad,  men  could  no  longer  contain  themselves.  Their 
imaginations  were  excited;  they  heaped  fright  upon 
fright :  each  place  had  its  terrors.  Two  banners,  wav- 
ing iu  the  clouds,  liad  been  seen  on  the  mountain  of  the 
Bruuig ;  at  Zug  a  buckler  had  appeared  in  the  heavens  ; 
on  the  banks  of  the  Reuss,  reiterated  explosions  were 
heard  during  the  night ;  on  tiie  lake  of  the  Four  Can- 
tons, ships  with  aerial  combatants  cai-eered  about  in 
every  direction.  War — war;  blood — blood! — these 
were  the  general  cries. 

la  the  midst  of  all  this   agitation   Zwingle   alone 
seemed  tranquil.     He  rejected  none  of  these  presenti- 
ments, but  contemplated  them   with   calmness.      "A 
heart   that   fears  God,"  said  he,   "cares  not  for  the 
threats  of  the  world.     To  forward  the  designs  of  God, 
whatever  may  happen — this  is  his  task.     A  carrier 
I    who  has  a  long  road  to  go  must  make  up  his  mind  to 
wear  his  waggon  and  his  gear  during  the  journey.     If 
'    he  carry  his  merchandise  to  the  appointed  spot,  that  is 
enough  for  him.     We  are  the  waggon  and  the  gear  of 
God.     There  is  not  one  of  the  articles  tliat  is  not  worn, 
■    twisted,  or  broken ;  but  our  great  Driver  will  not  the 
less  accomplish  by  our  means  His  vast  designs.     Is  it 
not  to  those  who  fall  upon  the  field  of  battle  that  the 
j    noblest  crown  belongs '?     Take  courage,  then,  in  the 
'    midst  of  all  these  dangers,  through  which  the  cause  of 
Jesus  Christ  must  pass.     Be  of  good  cheer !  although 
I    we  should  never  here  below  see  its  triimiphs  with  our 
I    own  eyes.     The  Judge  of  the  combat  beholds  us,  and 
I    it  is  He  who  confers  the  crown.     Others  will  enjoy 
upon  earth  the  fruits  of  our  labours ;  while  we,  already 
in  heaven,  shall  enjoy  an  eternal  reward." 

Thus  spoke  Zwingle,  as  he  advanced  calmly  towards 
the  threatening  noise  of  the  tempest,  which,  by  its 
repeated  li;ishes  and  sudden  explosions,  foreboded  death. 


CHAPTER  YI. 

The  Five  Cantons  decide  for  War— Deceitful  Calm — Fatal  Inactivity — Zurich 
Forewarned— Banner  of  Lucerne  Planted— Manifesto— The  Bailiwicks 
Pillaged — The  Monastery  of  Cappel — Letter — Infatuation  of  Zuricli — 
New  Warnings— The  War  Begins— The  Tocsin— A  Fearful  Night— The 
War — Banner  and  Anny  of  Zurich — Zwingle's  Departure — Zwingle's 
Hoi-sc- Anna  Zwingle. 

The  Five  Cantons,  assembled  in  diet  at  Lucerne,  ap- 
peared full  of  determination,  and  war  was  decided 
upon.  "  AVe  will  call  upon  the  cities  to  respect  our 
alliances,"  said  they,  "  and  if  they  refuse,  we  will  enter 
the  common  bailiwicks  by  force  to  procure  provisions, 
and  unite  our  banners  in  Zug  to  attack  the  enemy." 
The  AValdstettes  were  not  alone.  The  nuncio,  being 
solicited  by  his  Lucerne  friends,  had  required  that 
auxiliary  troops,  paid  by  the  pope,  should  be  put  in 
motion  towards  Switzerland,  and  he  announced  their 
near  arrival. 

These  resolutions  carried  terror  into  Switzerland; 
the  mediating  cantons  met  again  at  Aran,  and  drew  up 
a  plan  that  should  leave  the  religious  question  just  as  it 
had  been  settled  by  the  treaty  of  152'J.  Deputies 
immediately  bore  these  propositions  to   the  different 


councils.  Lucerne  haughtily  rejected  them.  "Tell 
those  who  sent  you,"  w:ts  the  reply,  "  that  we  do  not 
acknowledge  them  as  our  schoolmasters.  We  would 
rather  die  than  yield  the  least  thing  to  the  prejudice  of 
our  faith."  The  mediators  returned  to  Arau,  trembling 
and  discouraged.  This  useless  attempt  increased  the 
disagreement  among  the  reformed,  and  gave  the  Wald- 
stettes  still  greater  confidence.  Zurich,  so  decided  for 
the  reception  of  the  Gospel,  now  became  daily  more 
irresolute  !  The  members  of  tiie  council  distrusted  each 
other;  the  people  felt  no  interest  in  this  war,  and 
Zwingle,  notwithstanding  his  unshaken  faith  in  the 
justice  of  his  cause,  liad  no  hope  for  the  struggle  that 
was  about  to  take  place.  Berne,  on  its  side,  did  not 
cease  to  entreat  Zurich  to  avoid  precipitation.  "  Do 
not  let  us  expose  ourselves  to  the  reproach  of  too  much 
haste,  as  in  li32'J,"  w;xs  the  general  remark  in  Zurich. 
"  We  have  sure  friends  in  the  midst  of  the  Waldstettes  ; 
let  us  wait  until  they  announce  to  us,  as  they  have  pro- 
mised, some  real  danger." 

It  was  soon  believed  that  these  temporizers  were 
right.  In  fact,  the  alarming  news  ceased.  That  con- 
stant rumour  of  war,  which  incessantly  came  from  the 
Waldstettes,  discontinued.  There  were  no  more  alarms 
— no  more  fears  !  Deceitful  omen  !  Over  the  moun- 
tains and  valleys  of  Switzerland  hangs  that  gloomy 
and  mysterious  silence,  the  forerunner  of  the  tempest. 

Whilst  they  were  sleeping  at  Zurich,  the  Waldstettes 
were  preparing  to  conquer  their  rights  by  force  of  arms. 
The  chiefs,  closely  united  to  each  other  by  common 
interests  and  dangers,  found  a  powerful  support  in  the 
indignation  of  the  people.  In  a  diet  of  the  Five  Can- 
tons, held  at  Brunneu,  on  the  banks  of  the  Lake  of 
Lucerne,  opposite  Grutli,  the  alliances  of  the  confede- 
ration were  read ;  and  the  deputies,  having  been  sum- 
moned to  declare  by  their  votes  whether  they  thought 
the  war  just  and  lawful,  all  hands  were  raised  with  a 
shudder.  Immediately  the  Waldstettes  had  prepared 
their  attack  with  the  profoundest  mystery.  All  the 
passes  had  been  guarded — aU  communication  between 
Zurich  and  the  Five  Cantons  had  been  rendered  im- 
possible. The  friends  upon  whom  the  Zuriehers  had 
reckoned  on  the  banks  of  the  Lakes  Lucerne  and  Zug, 
and  who  had  promised  them  intelligence,  were  like 
prisoners  in  their  mountains.  The  terrible  avalanche 
was  about  to  slip  from  the  icy  summits  of  the  moun- 
tain, and  to  roll  into  the  valleys,  even  to  the  gates  of 
Zurich,  overthrowing  everything  in  its  passage,  without 
the  least  forewarning  of  its  fall.  The  mediators  had 
returned  discouraged  to  their  cantons.  A  spirit  of 
imprudence  and  of  error — sad  forerunner  of  the  fall  of 
republics  as  well  as  of  kings — had  spread  over  the 
whole  city  of  Zurich.  The  council  had  at  first  given 
orders  to  call  out  the  militia ;  then,  deceived  by  the 
silence  of  the  Waldstettes,  it  had  imprudently  revoked 
the  decree,  and  Lavater,  the  commander  of  the  army, 
had  retired  in  discontent  to  Rybourg,  and  indignantly 
thrown  far  from  him  that  sword  which  they  had  com- 
manded him  to  leave  in  the  scabbard.  Thus  the  winds 
were  about  to  be  unchained  from  the  mountains ;  the 
waters  of  the  great  deep,  aroused  by  a  terrible  earth- 
quake, were  about  to  open ;  and  yet  the  vessel  of  the 
state,  sadly  abandoned,  sported  up  and  down  with  in- 
difference over  a  frightful  gulf, — its  yard  struck,  its 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


sails  loose  and  motionloss — without  compass  or  crew — • 
without  pilot,  watch,  or  helm. 

"Whatever  were  the  exertions  of  the  Waldstettes, 
they  could  not  entirely  stifle  tlie  rumour  of  war,  which 
from  chalet  to  chalet  called  all  their  citizens  to  arras. 
God  permitted  a  cry  of  alarm — a  single  one,  it  is  true 
— to  resound  in  the  ears  of  the  people  of  Zurich.  On 
the  4th  October,  a  little  boy,  who  knew  not  what  he 
was  doing,  succeeded  in  crossing  the  frontier  of  Zug, 
and  presented  himself  with  two  loaves  at  the  gate  of 
the  reformed  monastery  of  Cappel,  situated  in  the  far- 
thest limits  of  the  canton  of  Zurich.  He  was  led  to 
the  abbot,  to  whom  the  child  gave  the  loaves,  without 
saying  a  word.  The  superior,  with  whom  there 
chanced  to  be  at  that  time  a  councillor  from  Zurich, 
Henry  Peyer,  sent  by  his  government,  turned  pale 
at  the  sight.  "  If  the  Five  Cantons  intend  entering 
by  force  of  arms  into  the  free  bailiwicks,"  had  said 
these  two  Zurichers  to  one  of  their  friends  in  Zug, 
"  you  will  send  your  son  to  us  with  one  loaf ;  but  you 
will  give  him  two  if  they  are  marching  at  once  upon 
the  bailiwicks  and  upon  Zurich."  The  abbot  and  the 
councillor  wrote  with  all  speed  to  Zurich.  "  Bo  upon 
your  guard!  take  up  arms,"  said  they;  but  no  credit 
was  attached  to  this  information.  The  council  were 
at  that  time  occupied  in  taking  measures  to  prevent  the 
supplies  that  had  arrived  from  Alsace  from  entering 
the  cantons.  Zwingle  himself,  who  had  never  ceased 
to  anuounce  war,  did  not  believe  it.  "  These  pen- 
sioners are  really  clever  fellows,"  said  the  reformer. 
"  Their  preparations  may  be,  after  all,  nothing  but  a 
French  manccuvre." 

He  was  deceived — they  were  a  reality.  Four  days 
were  to  accomplish  the  ruin  of  Zurich.  Let  us  retrace 
in  succession  the  history  of  these  disastrous  moments. 


r~- 


On  Sund  ly,  Sth  Octobu,  a  messenger  appealed  at 
Zuiich,  and  demanded,  m  the  name  ot  the  Fne  Can- 
tons, letters  of  perpetual  alliance.  The  majority  saw 
in  this  step  nothing  but  a  trick ;  but  Zwingle  began  to 
discern  the  thunderbolt  in  the  black  cloud  that  was 
drawing  near.  He  was  in  the  pulpit:  it  was  the  last 
time  he  was  destined  to  appear  in  it ;  and  as  if  he  had 
seen  the  formidable  spectre  of  Eome  rise  frightfully 
above  the  Alps,  calling  upon  him  and  upon  his  people 
to  abandon  the  faith: — "No — no!"  cried  he,  "never 
will  I  deny  my  Redeemer!" 

At  the  same  moment  a  messenger  arrived  in  haste 
from  Muliuen,  commander  of  the  Kuights-hospitallers 


of  St.  John  at  Hitzkylch.  "  On  Friday,  6th  October," 
said  he  to  the  councils  of  Zurich,  "  the  people  of  Lucerne 
planted  their  banner  in  the  Great  Square.  Two  men 
that  I  sent  to  Lucerne  have  been  thrown  into  prison. 
To-morrow  morning,  (Monday,  9th  October,)  the  Five 
Cantons  will  enter  the  bailiwicks.  Already  the  coun- 
try-people, frightened  and  fugitive,  are  running  to  us 
in  crowds." — "  It  is  an  idle  story,"  said  the  councils. 
Nevertheless  they  recalled  the  commander-in-chief 
Lavater,  who  sent  off  a  trusty  man,  nephew  of  James 
Winckler,  with  orders  to  repair  to  Cappel,  and  if  pos- 
sible, as  far  as  Zug,  to  reconnoitre  the  arrangements  of 
the  cantons. 

The  Waldstettes  were  in  reality  assembling  round  the 
banner  of  Lucerne.  The  people  of  this  canton ;  the 
men  of  Schwytz,  Uri,  Zug,  and  Unterwalden  ;  refugees 
from  Zurich  and  Berue,  with  a  few  Italians,  formed 
the  main  body  of  the  army,  which  had  been  raised  to 
invade  the  free  bailiwicks.  Two  manifestoes  were 
published — one  addressed  to  the  cantons,  the  other  to 
foreign  princes  and  nations. 

The  Five  Cantons  energetically  set  forth  the  attacks 
made  upon  the  treaties,  the  discord  sown  throughout 
the  confederation,  and  iinally,  the'  refusal  to  sell  them 
provisions — a  refusal  whose  only  aim  was  (according 
to  them)  to  excite  the  people  against  the  magistrates, 
and  to  establish  the  Reform  by  force.  "  It  is  not  true," 
added  they,  "  that — as  they  are  continually  crying  out 
— we  oppose  the  preaching  of  the  truth  and  the  reading 
of  the  Bible.  As  obedient  members  of  the  Church,  we 
desire  to  receive  aU  that  our  holy  mother  receives.  But 
we  reject  the  books  and  the  innovations  of  Zwingle  and 
his  companions." 

Hardly  had  the  messengers  chai'ged  with  these  mani- 
festoes departed,  before  the  first  division  of  the  army 
began  to  march,  and  arrived  in  the  evening  iu  the  free 
bailiwicks.  The  soldiers  having  entered  the  deserted 
churches,  and  seen  the  images  of  the  saints  removed, 
and  the  altars  broken,  their  anger  was  kindled ;  they 
spread  like  a  torrent  over  the  whole  country,  pillaged 
everything  they  met  with,  and  were  particularly  enraged 
against  the  houses  of  the  pastors,  where  they  destroyed 
the  furniture  with  oaths  and  maledictions.  At  the 
same  time  the  division  that  was  to  form  the  main 
army  marched  upon  Zug,  thence  to  move  upon  Zurich. 

Cappel,  at  three  leagues  from  Zurich,  and  about  a 
league  from  Zug,  was  the  first  place  they  would  reach 
in  the  Zurich  territory,  after  crossing  the  frontier  of 
the  Five  Cantons.  Near  the  Albis,  between  two  hills 
of  similar  height, — the  Granges  on  the  north,  and  the 
Ifelsberg  on  the  south, — in  the  midst  of  delightful  pas- 
tures, stood  the  ancient  and  wealthy  convent  of  the 
Cistercians,  in  whose  church  were  the  tombs  of  many 
ancient  and  noble  families  of  these  districts.  The 
Abbot  Wolfgang  Joner,  a  just  and  pious  man,  a  great 
friend  of  the  arts  and  letters,  and  a  distinguished 
preacher,  had  reformed  his  convent  in  1527.  Full  of 
compassion,  rich  in  good  works,  particularly  towards 
the  poor  of  the  canton  of  Zug  and  the  free  bailiwicks, 
he  was  held  in  great  honour  throughout  the  whole 
country.  He  predicted  what  would  be  the  termination 
of  the  war;  yet  as  soon  as  danger  approached,  he  spared 
no  labour  to  serve  his  country. 

It  was  on  Sunday  night  that  the  abbot  received  posi- 


THE  WAR  BEGINS. 


tive  intelligenco  of  the  preparations  at  Ziig.  He  paced 
lip  and  down  his  cell  ■with  hasty  steps;  sleep  fled  from 
his  eyes ;  he  drew  near  his  lamp,  and  addressing  his 
intimate  friend,  Peter  Simmler,  wlio  succeeded  him, 
and  who  was  then  residing  at  Kylchbcrg,  a  village  on 
tlic  borders  of  the  lake,  and  about  a  league  from  the 
town,  he  hastily  wrote  these  words:  "The  great  anxiety 
and  trouble  which  agitate  me,  prevent  mc  from  busying 
myself  with  the  management  of  the  house,  and  induce 
mo  to  write  to  you  all  that  is  preparing.  The  time  is 
come,  .  .  .  the  scourge  of  God  appears.  .  .  . 
After  many  journeys  and  inquiries,  we  have  learnt  that 
the  Five  Cantons  will  march  to-day  (Monday)  to  seize 
upon  llitzkylch,  while  the  main  army  assembles  its 
banners  at  Baar,  between  Zug  and  Cappel.  Those  from 
tlie  v.alley  of  the  Adige  and  the  Italians  will  arrive 
to-day  or  to-morrow."  This  letter,  through  some  un- 
foreseen circumstance,  did  not  reach  Zurich  till  the 
evening. 

Meanwhile  the  messenger  whom  Lavater  had  sent — 
the  nephew  of  J.  Winckler — creeping  on  his  belly, 
gliding  unperceived  past  the  sentinels,  and  clinging  to 
the  shrubs  that  overhung  the  precipices,  had  succeeded 
in  making  his  way  where  no  road  had  been  cleared. 
On  arriving  near  Zug,  he  had  discovered  with  alarm 
the  banner  and  the  militia  hastening  from  all  sides  at 
beat  of  drum :  then  traversing  again  these  unknown 
passes,  he  had  returned  to  Zurich  with  this  informa- 
tion. 

It  was  high  time  that  the  bandage  should  fall  from 
the  eyes  of  the  Zurichers  i  but  the  delusion  was  to 
endure  until  the  end.  The  council  which  was  called 
together  met  in  small  number.  "  The  Five  Cantons," 
said  they,  "are  making  a  little  noise  to  frighten  us,  and 
to  make  us  raise  the  blockade."  The  council,  however, 
decided  on  sending  Colonel  Rodolph  Dumysen  and 
Ulrich  Funck  to  Cappel,  to  see  what  was  going  on ; 
and  each  one,  tranquilized  by  this  unmeaning  step, 
retired  to  rest. 

They  did  not  slumber  long.  Every  hour  brought 
fresh  messengers  of  alarm  to  Zurich.  "The  banners 
of  four  cantons  are  assembled  at  Zug,"  said  they. 
'•They  are  only  waiting  for  Uri.  The  people  of  the 
free  bailiwicks  are  flocking  to  Cappel,  and  demanding 
arms.     .     .     .     Help!  help!" 

Before  the  break  of  day  the  council  was  again  as- 
sembled, and  it  ordered  the  convocation  of  the  Two 
Hundred.  An  old  man,  whose  hair  had  grown  grey 
on  the  battle-field  and  in  the  council  of  the  state — tlie 
banneret  John  Schweitzer — raising  his  head  enfeebled 
by  age,  and  darting  the  last  beam,  as  it  were,  fi-om  his 
eyes,  exclaimed :  "Xow — at  this  very  moment,  in  God's 
name,  send  an  advanced-guard  to  Cappel,  and  let  the 
army,  promptly  collecting  round  the  banner,  follow  it 
immediately."  He  said  no  more ;  but  the  charm  was 
not  yet  broken.  "The  peasants  of  the  free  bailiwicks," 
said  some,  "we  know  to  be  hasty,  and  easily  carried 
away.  They  make  the  matter  greater  than  it  really  is. 
The  wisest  plan  is  to  wait  for  the  report  of  the  coun- 
cillors." In  Zurich  there  was  no  longer  either  arm  to 
defend  or  head  to  advise. 

It  was  seven  in  the  morning,  and  the  assembly  was 
still  sittbg,  when  Rodolph  Gwerb,  pastor  of  Riffer- 
schwyl,  near  Cappel,  arrived  in  haste.     "The  people 


of  the  lordship  of  Knonau,"  said  he,  "are  crowding 
round  the  convent,  and  loudly  calling  for  chiefs  and  for 
aid.  The  enemy  is  approaching.  Will  our  lords  of 
Zurich  (say  they)  abandon  themselves,  and  us  with 
them?  Do  they  wish  to  give  us  up  to  slaughter?" 
The  pastor,  who  had  witnessed  these  mournful  scenes, 
spoke  with  animation.  The  councillors,  whose  infatua- 
tion was  to  be  prolonged  to  the  last,  were  offended  at 
his  message.  "They  want  to  make  us  act  impru- 
dently," replied  they,  turning  in  their  arm-chairs. 

They  had  scarcely  ceased  speaking  before  a  new 
messenger  appeared,  wearing  on  his  features  the  marks 
of  the  greatest  terror :  it  was  vSchwytzer,  laudlord  of 
the  "Beech  Tree"  on  Mount  Albis.  "My  lords 
Dumysen  and  Funck,"  said  he,  "  have  sent  me  to  you 
with  all  speed  to  announce  to  the  council  that  the  Five 
Cantons  have  seized  upon  llitzkylch,  and  that  they  are 
now  collecting  all  their  troops  at  Baar.  Sly  lords 
remain  in  the  bailiwicks  to  aid  the  frightened  inhabi- 
tants." 

This  time  the  most  confident  turned  pale.  Terror, 
so  long  restrained,  passed  like  a  flash  of  lightning 
through  every  heart.  Hitzkylch  was  in  the  power  of 
the  enemy,  and  the  war  was  begun. 

It  was  resolved  to  expedite  to  Cappel  a  flying  camp 
of  six  hundred  men  with  six  guns ;  but  the  command 
was  intrusted  to  George  Giidh',  whose  brother  was  in 
the  army  of  the  Five  Cantons,  and  he  was  enjoined  to 
keep  on  the  defensive.  Gcidli  and  his  troops  had  just 
left  the  city,  when  the  captain-general  Lavater,  sum- 
moning into  the  hall  of  the  Smaller  Council  the  old 
banneret  Schweitzer,  William  Toning,  captain  of  the 
arquebusiers,  J.  Deunikon,  captain  of  the  artillery, 
Zwingle,  and  some  others,  said  to  them :  "  Let  us  de- 
liberate promptly  on  the  means  of  saving  the  canton 
and  the  city.  Let  the  tocsin  immediately  call  out 
all  the  citizens."  The  captain-general  feared  that  the 
councils  would  shrink  at  this  proceeding,  and  he  wished 
to  raise  the  landsturm  by  the  simple  advice  of  the  chiefs 
of  the  army  and  of  Zwingle.  "We  cannot  take  it  upon 
ourselves,"  said  they;  "the  two  councils  are  still 
sitting;  let  us  lay  this  proposition  before  them."  They 
hastened  towards  the  place  of  meeting;  but  fatal  mis- 
chance !  there  were  only  a  few  members  of  the  Smaller 
Council  on  the  benches.  "The  consent  of  the  Two 
Hundred  is  necessary,"  said  they.  Again  a  new  delay, 
and  the  enemy  were  on  their  march.  Two  hours  after 
noon  the  Great  Council  met  again,  but  only  to  make 
long  and  useless  speeches.  At  length  the  resolution 
was  taken,  and  at  seven  in  the  evening  the  tocsin  be- 
gan to  sound  in  all  the  country  districts.  Treason 
united  with  this  dilatoriness,  and  persons  who  pre- 
tended to  be  envoys  from  Zurich  stopped  the  landsturm 
in  many  places,  as  being  contrary  to  the  opinion  of  the 
council.  A  great  number  of  citizens  went  to  sleep 
again. 

It  was  a  fearful  night.  The  thick  darkness — a  violent 
storm — the  alarm-bell  ringing  from  every  steeple — 
the  people  running  to  arms — the  noise  of  swords  and 
guns — the  sound  of  trumpets  and  of  drums,  combined 
with  the  roaring  of  the  tempest,  the  distrust,  discontent, 
and  even  treason,  which  spread  afHiction  in  every  quar- 
ter— the  sobs  of  women  and  of  children — the  cries 
which  accompanied  many  a  heart-rending  adieu — an 
2n 


HISTORY  OF  THE  EEFOfiMATION. 


earthquake  which  occurred  about  nine  o'clock  at  night, 
as  if  nature  herself  had  shuddered  at  the  blood  that  was 
about  to  be  spilt,  and  which  violently  shook  the  moun- 
tains and  the  valleys :  all  increased  the  terrors  of  this 
fatal  night — a  night  to  be  followed  by  a  still  more 
fatal  day. 

While  these  events  were  passing,  the  Zurichers 
cncannjed  on  the  heights  of  Cappcl  to  the  number  of 
about  one  thousand  men,  fixed  their  eyes  on  Zug  and 
upon  the  lake,  attentively  watching  every  movement. 
On  a  sudden,  a  little  before  night,  they  perceived  a  few 
barks  filled  with  soldiers  coming  from  the  side  of  Arth, 
aud  rowing  across  the  lake  towards  Zug.  Their  num- 
ber increases — one  boat  follows  another — soon  they 
distinctly  hear  the  bellowing  of  the  Bull  (the  horn)  of 
Uri,  and  discern  the  banner.  The  barks  draw  near 
Zug;  they  are  moored  to  the  shore,  which  is  lined  with 
au  immense  crowd.  The  warriors  of  Uri  and  the  ar- 
quebiisiers  of  the  Adige  spring  up  and  leap  on  shore, 
where  they  are  received  with  acclamations,  and  take 
up  their  quarters  for  the  uight:  behold  the  enemies 
assembled!     The  council  arc  informed  with  all  speed. 

The  agitation  was  still  greater  at  Zurich  than  at 
Cappel ;  the  confusion  was  increased  by  uncertaiuty. 
The  enemy  attacking  them  on  different  sides  at  once, 
they  knew  not  where  to  carry  assistance.  Two  hours 
after  midnight  five  hundred  men  with  four  guns  quitted 
the  city  for  Bremgarten,  and  three  or  four  hundred 
meu  with  five  guns  for  Wadenschwyl.  They  turned 
to  the  right  and  to  the  left,  while  the  enemy  was  in 
front. 

Alarmed  at  its  own  weakness,  the  council  resolved 
to  apply  without  delay  to  the  cities  of  the  Christian 
co-burghery.  "As  this  revolt,"  wrote  they,  "has  no 
other  origin  than  the  Word  of  God,  we  entreat  you 
once — twice — thrice,  as  loudly,  as  seriously,  as  firmly, 
and  as  earnestly,  as  our  ancient  alliances  and  our 
Christian  co-burghery  permit  and  command  us  to  do — 
to  set  forth  without  delay  with  all  your  forces.  Haste  ! 
haste !  haste !  Act  as  promptly  as  possible — the  dan- 
ger is  yours  as  well  as  ours."  Thus  spake  Zurich ;  but 
it  was  already  too  late. 

At  break  of  day  the  banner  was  raised  before  the 
town-house ;  instead  of  flaunting  proudly  in  the  wind, 
it  hung  drooping  down  the  staff — a  sad  omen  that 
filled  many  minds  with  fear.  Lavater  took  up  his 
station  under  this  standard ;  but  a  long  period  elapsed 
before  a  few  hundred  soldiers  could  be  got  together. 
In  the  square  and  in  all  the  city  disorder  and  confusion 
prevailed.  The  troops,  fatigued  by  a  hasty  march  or 
by  long  waiting,  were  faint  and  discouraged. 

At  ten  o'clock  only  700  men  were  under  arms.  The 
selfish,  the  lukewarm,  the  friends  of  Rome  and  of  the 
foreign  pensioners,  had  remained  at  home.  A  few  old 
men  who  had  more  courage  than  strength — several 
members  of  the  two  couucils  who  were  devoted  to  the 
holy  cause  of  God's  Word — many  ministers  of  the 
Church  who  desired  to  live  and  die  with  the  Reform 
— the  boldest  of  the  townspeople,  and  a  certain  num- 
ber of  peasants,  especially  those  from  the  neighbour- 
hood of  the  city — such  were  the  defenders  who, 
wanting  that  moral  force  so  necessary  for  victory, 
incompletely  armed,  and  without  uniform,  crowded  iu 
disorder  around  the  banner  of  Zurich. 


The  army  shovdd  have  numbered  at  least  4000  men  ; 
they  waited  still ;  the  usual  oath  had  not  been  adminis- 
tered ;  and  yet  courier  after  courier  arrived  breathless 
and  in  disorder,  announcing  the  terrible  danger  that 
threatened  Zurich.  All  this  disorderly  crowd  was 
violently  agitated — they  no  longer  waited  for  the  com- 
mands of  their  chiefs,  and  many  without  taking  the 
oath  rushed  through  the  gates.  About  200  men  thus 
set  out  iu  confusion.  All  those  who  remained  prepared 
to  depart. 

Zwingle  was  now  seen  issuing  from  a  house  before 
which  a  caparisoned  horse  was  stampiug  impatiently: 
it  was  his  own.  His  look  was  firm,  but  dimmed  by 
sorrow.  He  parted  from  his  wife,  his  children,  and 
his  numerous  friends,  without  deceiving  himself,  and 
with  a  bruised  heart.  He  observed  the  thick  water- 
spout, which,  driven  by  a  terrible  wind,  advanced 
whirling  towards  him.  Alas!  he  had  himself  called 
up  this  hurricane  by  quitting  the  atmosphere  of  the 
Gospel  of  peace,  and  throwing  himself  into  the  midst 
of  political  passions.  He  was  convinced  that  he  would 
be  its  first  victim.  Fifteen  days  before  the  attack  of 
the  Waldstettes,  he  had  said  from  the  pulpit:  "I  know 
the  meaning  of  all  this :  I  am  the  person  specially 
pointed  at.  All  this  comes  to  pass — in  order  tliat  I 
may  die."  Tlie  council,  according  to  an  ancient 
custom,  had  called  upon  him  to  accompany  the  army 
as  its  chaplain.  Zwingle  did  not  hesitate.  He  prepared 
himself  without  surprise  and  without  anger, — with  the 
calmness  of  a  Christian  who  places  himself  confidently 
iu  the  hands  of  his  God.  If  the  cause  of  Reform 
was  doomed  to  perish,  he  was  ready  to  perish  with  it. 
Surrounded  by  his  weepiug  wife  and  friends — by  his 
children  who  clung  to  his  garments  to  detain  him,  he 
quitted  that  house  where  he  had  tasted  so  much  happi- 
ness. At  the  moment  that  his  hand  was  upon  his 
horse,  just  as  he  was  about  to  mount,  the  animal  vio- 
lently started  back  several  paces,  and  when  he  was  at 
last  in  the  saddle  it  refused  for  a  time  to  move,  rearing 
iind  prancing  backwards,  like  that  horse  which  the 
greatest  captain  of  modern  times  had  mounted  as  he 
was  about  to  cross  the  Niemen.  Many  iu  Zurich  at 
that  time  thought  with  the  soldier  of  the  Grand  Army 
when  he  saw  Napoleon  ou  the  ground :  "  It  is  a  bad 
omen  !  a  Roman  would  go  back  ! "  Zwingle  having  at 
last  mastered  his  horse,  gave  the  reins,  applied  the  spur, 
started  forward,  and  disappeared. 

At  eleven  o'clock  the  flag  was  struck,  aad  all  who 
remained  in  the  square — about  500  men — began  their 
march  along  with  it.  The  greater  part  were  torn  with 
difficulty  from  the  arms  of  their  families,  and  walked 
sad  and  silent,  as  if  they  were  going  to  the  scaffold 
instead  of  battle.  There  was  no  order — no  plan ;  the 
meu  were  isolated  and  scattered,  some  running  before, 
some  after  the  colours,  their  extreme  confusion  pre- 
senting a  fearful  appearance ;  so  much  so,  that  those 
who  remained  behind — the  women,  the  children,  aud 
the  old  men,  filled  with  gloomy  forebodings,  beat  their 
breasts  as  they  saw  them  pass ;  and  mauy  years  after, 
the  remembrauce  of  this  day  of  tumult  aud  sadness 
drew  this  groan  from  Oswald  Myconius :  "  Whenever 
I  recall  it  to  mind,  it  is  as  if  a  sword  pierced  my  heart." 
Zwingle,  armed  according  to  the  usage  of  the  chaplains 
of  the  confederation,  rode  mournfully  behind  this  dis- 


THE  ENEMY  AT  ZUG. 


(racted  multituilo.  Mycoiiiiis,  when  he  saw  him,  was 
nigh  fainting.  Zwinglo  disappeared,  and  Oswald  rc- 
luained  behind  to  weep. 

lie  did  not  shed  tears  alone;  in  all  quarters  were 
heard  lamentations,  and  every  house  was  changed  into 
a  house  of  prayer.  In  tiie  midst  of  this  universal 
sorrow,  one  woman  remained  silent ;  her  only  cry  was 
a  bitter  heart,  her  only  language  the  mild  and  suppliant 
eye  of  faith : — this  was  Anna,  Zwiugle's  wife.  She 
had  seen  her  husband  depart — her  son,  her  brother,  a 
great  number  of  intimate  friends  and  near  relations, 
whose  approaching  death  she  foreboded.  But  her  soul, 
strong  as  that  of  Ikt  husband,  offered  to  God  the  sacri- 
fice of  her  hulicst  atlVctious.  Gradually  the  defenders 
of  Zurich  precipitated  their  march,  and  the  tumult  died 
away  in  tiie  distance. 


CHAPTER  Vn. 

The  Scene  ot  War— The  Enemy  at  Zug— Declaration  of  War— Coiuicil— Ai-my 
of  the  Forest  Cantons  appears— The  fii-st  Guu  fired— Zwingle's  Gravity 
and  SoiTOw— Zurich  Amiy  ascending  tlie  Albis— Halt  and  Council  at 
the  Beech  Tree — They  quicken  their  March— Jauch's  Reconnaissance — 
Uis  Appeal— J 


This  night,  which  was  so  stormy  in  Zurich,  had  not 
been  calmer  among  the  inhabitants  of  Cappel.  They 
had  received  the  most  alarming  reports  one  after  an- 
other. It  was  necessary  to  take  up  a  position  that 
■would  allow  the  troops  assembled  round  the  convent 
to  resist  the  enemy's  attack  until  the  arrival  of  the 
reinforcements  that  were  expected  from  the  city.  They 
cast  their  eyes  on  a  small  hill,  which,  lying  to  tlie  north 
towards  Zin-ich,  and  traversed  by  the  highroad,  pre- 
sented an  uneven  but  suliiciently  extensive  surface.  A 
deep  ditch  that  surrounded  it  on  three  sides  defended 
the  approaches ;  but  a  small  bridge,  that  was  the  only 
issue  on  the  side  of  Zurich,  rendered  a  precipitate 
retreat  very  dangerous.  On  the  south-west  was  a 
I  wood  of  beech  trees ;  on  the  south,  in  the  direction  of 
'  Zug.  was  the  highroad  and  a  marshy  valley.  "  Lead 
us  to  the  Granges,"  cried  all  the  soldiers.  They  were 
conducted  thither.  The  artillery  was  stationed  near 
some  ruins.  The  line  of  battle  was  drawn  up  on  the 
side  of  the  monastery  and  of  Zug,  and  sentinels  were 
placed  at  the  foot  of  the  slope. 

Meantime,  the  signal  was  given  at  Zug  and  Baar ; 
the  drums  beat :  the  soldiers  of  the  Five  Cantons  took 
lip  their  arms.  A  univereal  feeling  of  joy  animated 
them.  The  churches  were  opened,  the  bells  rang,  and 
the  serried  ranks  of  the  cantons  entered  the  cathedral 
of  St.  Oswald,  where  mass  was  celebrated  and  the  host 
offered  up  for  the  sins  of  the  people.  All  the  army 
began  their  march  at  nine  o'clock,  with  banners  flying. 
The  avoyer  John  Colder  commanded  the  contingent  of 
Lucerne  ;  the  landamman  James  Troguer  that  of  Uri ; 
the  landamman  Eychmuth,  a  mortal  enemy  of  the 
Reformation,  that  of  Schwytz  ;  the  landamman  Zellger, 
that  of  L^nterwalden  ;  and  Oswald  Dooss  that  of  Zug. 
Eight  thousand  men  marched  in  order  of  battle  :  all  the 
picked  men  of  the  Five  Cantons  were  there.     Fresh 


and  active  after  a  quiet  night,  and  having  only  one 
short  league  to  cross  before  reaching  the  enemy,  these 
haughty  Waldstettes  advanced  with  a  firm  and  regular 
step  under  the  command  of  their  chiefs. 

On  reaching  the  common  meadow  of  Zug,  they  halted 
to  take  tlie  oath  :  every  hand  was  upraised  to  heaven, 
and  all  swore  to  avenge  themselves.  They  were  about 
to  resume  their  march,  when  some  aged  men  made 
signs  to  them  to  stop.  "  Comrades,"  said  they,  "  we 
have  long  offended  God.  Our  bla-sphemies,  our  oaths, 
our  wars,  our  revenge,  our  pride,  our  drunkenness,  our 
adulteries,  the  gold  of  the  stranger  to  whom  our  hands 
have  been  extended,  and  all  tlie  disorders  in  which  we 
have  indulged,  have  so  provoked  His  anger,  that  if  He 
should  punish  us  to-day,  we  should  only  receive  the 
desert  of  our  crimes."  The  emotion  of  the  chiefs  had 
passed  into  the  ranks.  All  the  army  bent  the  knee 
in  the  midst  of  the  plain ;  deep  silence  prevailed,  and 
every  soldier,  with  bended  head,  crossed  himself  de- 
voutly, and  repeated  in  a  low  voice  five  paters,  as 
many  aves,  and  the  credo.  One  might  have  said  that 
they  were  for  a  time  in  the  midst  of  a  vast  and  stilly 
desert.  Suddenly  the  noise  of  an  immense  crowd  was 
again  heard.  The  army  rose  up.  "  Soldiers,"  said  the 
captains,  "  you  know  the  cause  of  this  war.  Bear  your 
wives  and  your  children  continually  before  your  eyes." 

Then  the  chief  usher  (grand  sautier)  of  Lucerne, 
wearing  the  colours  of  the  canton,  approached  the 
chiefs  of  the  army:  they  placed  in  his  hands  the 
declaration  of  war,  dated  on  that  very  day,  and  sealed 
with  the  arms  of  Zug.  He  then  set  off  on  horseback, 
preceded  by  a  trumpeter,  to  carry  this  paper  to  the 
commander  of  the  Zurichers. 

It  was  eleven  in  the  morning.  The  Zurichers  soon 
discovered  the  enemy's  army,  and  cast  a  sorrowful 
glance  on  the  small  force  they  were  able  to  oppose  to 
it.  Every  minute  the  danger  increased.  All  bent  their 
knees,  their  eyes  were  raised  to  heaven,  and  every 
Zurichcr  uttered  a  cry  from  the  bottom  of  his  heart, 
praying  for  deliverance  from  God.  As  soon  as  the 
prayer  was  ended,  they  got  ready  for  battle.  There 
were  at  that  time  about  twelve  hundred  men  under 
arms. 

At  noon  the  trumpet  of  the  Five  Cantons  sounded 
not  far  from  the  advanced  posts.  Gtidli,  having  col- 
lected the  members  of  the  two  councils  who  happened 
to  be  with  the  m-my,  as  well  as  the  commissioned  and 
non-commissioned  officers,  and  having  ranged  them  in 
a  circle,  ordered  the  secretary  Rheiuhard  to  read  the 
declaration  of  which  the  Sautier  of  Lucerne  was  the 
bearer.  After  the  reading,  Godli  opened  a  coimcil  of 
war.  "  We  are  few  in  number,  and  the  forces  of  our 
adversaries  are  great,"  said  Landolt,  bailiff  of  Marpac, 
"  but  1  will  here  await  the  enemy  in  the  name  of  God." 
"Wait!"  cried  the  captain  of  the  halberdiers,  Rodolph 
Zigler :  "  Impossible !  let  us  rather  take  advantage  of 
the  ditch  that  cuts  the  road  to  effect  our  retreat,  and 
let  us  everywhere  raise  a  levee  en  masse."  This  was 
in  truth  the  only  means  of  safety.  But  Rudi  Gallmann, 
considering  every  step  backwards  as  an  act  of  cowar- 
dice, cried  out,  stamping  his  feet  forcibly  on  the  earth, 
and  casting  a  fiery  glance  around  him,  "  Here — here 
shall  be  my  grave!" — "It  is  now  too  late  to  retire 
with  honour,"  said  other  officers.     "  This  day  is  in  the 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


hands  of  God.     Let  us  suffer  ■whatever  He  hiys  npou 
us."     It  was  put  to  the  vote. 

The  members  of  the  council  had  scarcely  raised 
their  hands  in  token  of  assent,  when  a  great  noise  was 
heard  around  them.  "The  captain!  the  captain!" 
cried  a  soldier  from  the  outposts  who  arrived  in  haste. 
"Silence,  silence!"  replied  the  ushers,  driving  him 
back  ;  "  they  are  holding  a  council ! " — "It  is  no  longer 
time  to  hold  a  council,"  replied  the  soldier.  "  Conduct 
me  immediately  to  the  captain."  ..."  Our  senti- 
nels are  falling  back,"  cried  he  with  an  agitated  voice, 
as  he  arrived  before  Godli.  "The  enemy  is  there — 
they  are  aJvaneiiig  tliruu^uli  the  forest  with  all  their 


forces  and  with  great  tumult."  He  had  not  ceased 
speaking  before  the  sentinels,  who  were  in  truth  retir- 
ing ou  all  sides,  ran  up,  and  the  army  of  the  Five 
Cantons  was  soon  seen  climbing  the  slope  of  Ifelsbcrg 
in  face  of  the  Granges,  and  pointing  their  guns.  The 
loaders  of  the  Waldstettes  were  examining  the  position, 
and  seeking  to  discover  by  what  means  their  army  could 
reach  that  of  Zurich.  The  Zurichers  were  asking  them- 
selves the  same  question.  The  nature  of  the  ground 
prevented  the  Waldstettes  from  passing  below  the  con- 
vent, but  they  could  arrive  by  another  quarter.  Ulricli 
Briider,  under-bailiff  of  Husen  in  the  canton  of  Zurich, 
fixed  his  anxious  look  on  the  beech-wood.      "It  is 


ZWINQLE     LEA 

thence  that  the  enemy  will  fall  uiion  us!"  "Axes — 
axes ! "  immediately  cried  several  voices :  "  let  us  cut 
down  the  trees  ! "  Giidli,  the  abbot,  and  several  others 
were  opposed  to  this :  "  If  we  stop  up  the  wood,  by 
throwing  down  the  trees,  we  shall  ourseh-es  be  luiablo 
to  work  our  guns  in  tliat  direction,"  said  they. — "Well! 
at  least  let  us  place  some  arquebusiers  in  that  quarter." 
— "  We  are  already  so  small  a  number,"  replied  tlie 
captain,  "that  it  will  be  imprudent  to  divide  the 
forces."  Neither  wisdom  nor  courage  were  to  save 
Zurich.  They  once  more  invoked  the  help  of  God, 
and  waited  in  expectation. 

At  one  o'clock  the  Five  Cantons  fired  the  first  gun : 


VINQ     ZURICH. 

the  ball  passing  over  the  convent  fell  below  the  Granges ; 
a  second  passed  over  the  line  of  battle ;  a  third  struck 
a  hedge  close  to  the  ruins.  The  Zurichers,  seeing  the 
battle  was  begun,  replied  with  courage ;  but  the  slow- 
ness and  awkwardness  with  which  the  artillery  was 
served  in  those  days  prevented  any  gi-eat  loss  being 
inflicted  on  either  side.  When  the  enemy  perceived 
this,  they  ordered  their  advanced  guard  to  descend 
from  Ifelsberg  and  to  reach  the  Granges  througli  the 
meadow ;  and  soon  the  ivhole  army  of  the  cantons 
advanced  in  this  direction,  but  with  difficulty  and 
over  bad  roads.  Some  arquebusiers  of  Zuricli  came 
and  announced  the  disorder  of  the  cantons.     "Brave 


ZURICH  ARMY  ASCENDING  THE  ALBIS. 


549 


Ziiriclicrs,"  cried  Rudi  Gallmaii,  "if  wc  attack  them 
now,  it  is  all  over  wilij  thciu."  At  these  words  some 
of  the  soldiers  prepared  to  enter  the  wood  on  the  left, 
to  fall  upon  the  disheartened  Waldstettes.  But  Godii 
l)orceivinp;  this  movement,  cried  out :  "  Where  arc  you 
f^uing? — do  you  not  know  that  wc  have  agreed  not  to 
separate?"  He  then  ordered  the  skirmishers  to  be  re- 
called, so  that  the  wood  remained  entirely  open  to  the 
enemy.  They  were  satislieil  with  discharging  a  few 
random  shots  frimi  time  to  time  to  prevent  the  cantons 
from  establishing  themselves  there.  The  firing  of  the 
artillery  continued  until  three  o'clock,  and  announced 
far  and  wide,  even  to  Bremgartea  and  Zurich,  that  the 
bailie  had  begun. 

In  the  meanwhile  the  great  banner  of  Zurich  and  all 
those  who  surrounded  it,  among  whom  was  Zwingle, 
came  advancing  in  disorder  towards  the  Albis.  For  a 
year  past  the  gaiety  of  the  reformer  had  entirely  dis- 
appeared :  he  was  gra^e,  melancholj',  easily  moved ; 
having  a  weight  on  his  heart  that  seemed  to  crush  it. 
Often  would  he  throw  himself  weeping  at  the  feet  of 
his  Master,  and  seek  in  prayer  the  strength  of  which 
he  stood  in  need.  No  one  had  ever  observed  in  him 
any  irritation;  on  the  contrary,  he  had  received  with 
mildii"^  .i^^/l'c  counsels  that  had  been  offered,  and  had 
remamed  tenderly  attached  to  men  whose  convictions 
were  not  the  same  as  his  own.  He  was  now  advanc- 
ing mournfully  along  the  road  to  Cappel ;  and  John 
Maaler  of  AVinterthour,  who  was  riding  a  few  paces 
behind  him,  heard  his  groans  aud  sighs,  intermingled 
with  fervent  prayers.  If  any  one  spoke  to  him,  he  was 
found  firm  and  strong  in  the  peace  that  proceeds  from 
faith  ;  but  he  did  not  conceal  his  conviction  that  he 
should  uover  sec  his  family  or  church  again.  Thus 
advanced  the  forces  of  Zurich.  A  woeful  mai-ch  I  re- 
sembling rather  a  funeral  procession  than  an  army 
going  to  battle. 

As  they  approached  they  saw  express  after  express 
galloping  along  the  road  from  Cappel,  begging  the 
Zurichers  to  hasten  to  the  defence  of  their  brothers. 

At  Adliswyl,  having  passed  the  bridge  under  which 
flow  the  impetuous  waters  of  the  Sihl,  and  traversed 
the  village  through  the  midst  of  women,  children,  and 
old  men,  who,  standing  before  their  cottages,  looked 
with  sadness  on  this  disorderly  troop,  they  began  to 
ascend  the  Albis.  They  were  about  half-way  from 
Cappel  when  the  first  cannon-shot  was  heard.  They 
stop,  they  listen:  a  secoud,  a  third  succeeds.  .  .  . 
There  is  no  longer  any  doubt.  The  glory,  the  very 
existence  of  the  republic  are  endangered,  and  they  are 
not  present  to  defend  it !  The  blood  curdles  in  their 
veins.  On  a  sudden  they  arouse,  and  each  one  begins 
to  rmi  to  the  support  of  his  brothers.  But  the  road 
over  the  Albis  was  much  steeper  than  it  is  in  our  days. 
The  badly  harnessed  artillery  could  not  ascend  it ;  the 
old  men  and  citizens,  little  habituated  to  marching,  and 
covered  with  weighty  armour,  advanced  with  difficulty: 
and  yet  they  formed  the  greater  portion  of  the  troops. 
They  were  seen  stopping  one  after  another,  panting 
and  exhausted,  along  the  sides  of  the  road  near  the 
thickets  aud  ravines  of  the  Albis,  leaning  against  a 
beech  or  au  ash  tree,  and  looking  with  dispirited  eyes 
to  the  summit  of  the  mountain  covered  with  thick 
pines. 


They  resumed  their  march,  however;  the  horsemen 
and  the  most  intrepid  of  the  fool-soldiers  hastened  on- 
wards, and  having  reached  the  "  Beech  Tree,"  on  the 
top  of  the  mountain,  halted  to  take  counsel. 

What  a  prospect  then  extended  before  their  eyes ! 
Zurich,  the  lake  and  its  smiling  shores — those  orchards, 
those  fertile  fields,  those  vine-clad  hills,  almost  the 
whole  of  the  canton.  Alas !  soon,  perhaps,  to  be  de- 
vastated by  the  forest-bands. 

Scarcely  had  these  noble-minded  men  begun  to  de- 
liberate, when  fresh  messengers  from  Cappel  appeared 
before  them,  exclaiming,  "  Hasten  forwards  ! "  At 
these  words  many  of  the  Zurichers  prepared  to  gallop 
towards  the  enemy.  Toning,  the  captain  of  the  arque- 
busiers,  stopt  them.  "  My  good  friends,"  cried  he  to 
them,  "against  such  great  forces  what  can  we  do 
alone?  Let  us  wait  here  imtil  our  people  arc  assem- 
bled, and  then  let  us  fall  upon  the  enemy  with  the 
whole  army." — "  Yes,  if  we  had  an  army,"  bitterly  re- 
I)lied  the  captain-general,  who,  in  despair  of  saving  the 
republic,  thought  only  of  dying  with  glory;  "  but  we 
have  only  a  banner  and  no  soldiers." — "  How  can  we 
stay  calmly  upon  these  heights,"  said  Zwingle,  "while 
we  hoar  the  shots  that  are  fired  at  our  fellow-citizens? 
In  the  name  of  God  I  will  march  towards  my  brother 
warriors,  prepared  to  die  in  order  to  save  them." — 
"And  I  to,"  added  the  aged  banneret  Schweitzer. 
"As  for  you,"  continued  he,  turning  with  a  contemp- 
tuous look  towards  Toning,  "  wait  tiU  you  are  a  little 
recovered." — "I  am  quite  as  much  refreshed  as  you," 
replied  Toning,  the  colour  mantling  on  his  face,  "  and 
you  shall  soon  see  whether  I  cannot  fight."  All 
hastened  their  steps  towards  the  field  of  battle. 

The  descent  was  rapid ;  they  plunged  into  the  woods, 
passed  through  the  village  of  Huscn,  and  at  length 
arrived  near  the  Granges.  It  was  three  o'clock  when 
the  banner  crossed  the  narrow  bridge  that  led  thither : 
and  there  were  so  few  soldiers  round  it  that  every  one 
trembled  as  he  beheld  this  venerated  standard  thus  ex- 
posed to  the  attacks  of  so  formidable  an  enemy.  The 
army  of  the  Cantons  was  at  that  moment  deploying 
before  the  eyes  of  the  new-comers.  Zwingle  gazed 
upon  this  terrible  spectacle.  Behold,  then,  these  pha- 
lanxes of  soldiers! — a  few  minutes  more,  and  the  la- 
bours of  eleven  years  wUl  be  destroyed  perhaps  for 
ever!     ,     .     . 

A  citizen  of  Zurich,  one  Leonard  Bourkhard,  who 
was  ill-disposed  towards  the  reformer,  said  to  him  in  a 
harsh  tone :  "  AVell,  Master  Ulrich,  what  do  you  say 
about  this  business?  Are  the  radishes  salt  enough? 
,  who  will  eat  them  now?" — "I,"  replied 
Zwingle,  "  and  many  a  brave  man  who  is  here  in  the 
hands  of  God ;  for  we  are  His  in  life  and  in  death." 
"And  I  too — I  will  help  to  cat  them,"  resumed  Bourk- 
hard immediately,  ashamed  of  his  brutality, — "I  wiU 
risk  my  life  for  them."  And  he  did  so,  and  many 
others  with  him,  adds  the  chronicle. 

It  was  four  o'clock ;  the  sun  was  sinking  rapidly; 
the  AValdstettes  did  not  advance,  and  the  Zurichers 
began  to  think  that  the  attack  would  be  put  off  till  the 
morrow.  In  fact,  the  chiefs  of  the  Five  Cantons 
seeing  the  great  banner  of  Zurich  arrive,  the  night 
near  at  hand,  and  the  impossibility  of  crossing,  under 
the  fire  of  the  Zurichers,  the  marsh  and  the  ditch  that 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


separated  the  combatants,  were  looking  for  a  place  in 
which  their  troops  might  pass  the  night.  "If  at  this 
moment  any  mediators  had  appeared,"  says  Bullinger, 
"  their  proposals  would  have  been  accepted." 

The  soldiers,  observing  the  hesitation  of  their  chiefs, 
began  to  miu-mur  loudly.  "The  big  ones  abandon  us," 
said  one.  "  The  captains  fear  to  bite  the  fox's  tail," 
said  another.  "  Not  to  attack  them,"  cried  they  all, 
"is  to  ruin  our  cause."  During  this  time  a  daring 
man  was  preparing  the  skilful  manceuvre  that  was  to 
decide  the  fate  of  tlie  day.  A  warrior  of  Uri,  John 
Jauch,  formerly  bailiff  of  Sargans,  a  good  marksman 
and  experienced  soldier,  having  taken  a  few  men  with 
him,  moved  towards  the  right  of  the  array  of  the  Five 
Cantons,  crept  into  the  midst  of  the  clump  of  beech- 
trees  that,  by  forming  a  semicircle  to  the  east,  unite 
the  hill  of  Ifelsberg  to  that  of  the  Granges,'  found  the 
wood  empty,  arrived  to  within  a  few  paces  of  the 
Zurichers,  and  there,  hidden  behind  the  trees,  re- 
marked, unperceived,  the  smallness  of  their  numbers, 
and  their  want  of  caution.  Then,  stealthily  retiring, 
he  went  to  the  chiefs  at  the  very  moment  the  discon- 
tent was  on  the  point  of  bursting  out.  "  Now  is  the 
time  to  attack  the  enemy,"  cried  he.  "Dear  gossip," 
replied  Troguer,  captain-in-chief  of  Uri,  "you  do 
not  mean  to  say  that  we  should  set  to  work  at  so 
late  an  hour;  besides,  the  men  are  preparing  their 
quarters,  and  everybody  knows  what  it  cost  our  fathers 
at  Naples  and  Marignan  for  having  commenced  the 
attack  a  little  before  night.  And  then  it  is  Innocent's 
day,  and  our  ancestors  have  never  given  battle  ou  a 
feast-day." — "  Don't  think  about  the  Innocents  of  the 
calendar,"  replied  Jauch,  "  but  let  us  rather  remember 
the  innocents  that  we  have  left  in  our  cottages." 
Gaspard  Giidli  of  Zurich,  brother  of  the  commander 
of  the  Granges,  added  his  entreaties  to  those  of  the 
warrior  of  Uri.  "  'We  must  either  beat  the  Zurichers 
to-night,"  said  he,  "  or  be  beaten  by  them  to-morrow. 
Take  your  choice." 

All  was  unavailing;  the  chiefs  were  inflexible,  and  the 
army  prepared  to  take  up  its  quarters.  Upon  this  the 
warrior  of  Uri,  understanding,  like  his  fellow-country- 
man Tell,  that  great  evils  require  great  remedies,  drew 
his  sword  and  cried :  "Let  all  true  confederates  follow 
me."  Then  hastily  leaping  to  his  saddle,  he  spurred 
his  horse  into  the  forest,  and  immediately  arquebusiers, 
soldiers  from  the  Adige,  and  many  other  warriors  of 
the  Five  Cantons,  especially  from  Untcrwalden — in  all 
about  300  men,  rnshed  into  the  wood  after  him.  At 
this  sight  Jauch  no  longer  doubted  of  the  victory  of 
the  Waldstettes.  He  dismounted  and  fell  upon  his 
knees,  "for,"  says  Tschudi,  "he  was  a  man  who 
feared  God."  All  his  followers  did  the  same,  and  to- 
gether invoked  the  aid  of  God,  of  His  holy  mother, 
and  of  all  the  heavenly  host.  They  then  advanced ; 
but  soon  the  warrior  of  Uri,  wishing  to  expose  no  one 
but  himself,  halted  his  troops,  and  glided  from  tree  to 
tree  to  the  verge  of  the  wood.  Observing  that  the 
enemy  was  as  incautious  as  ever,  he  rejoined  his  arque- 
busiers, led  them  stealthily  forward,  and  posted  them 
silently  behind  the  trees  of  the  forest,  enjoining  them 

1  Tliis  wood  no  longer  connects  tlie  two  bills.  Tlic  present  pastor  of 
Cappel  told  me  that  when  first  he  went  into  that  district  the  wood  was 
much  more  extensive  than  it  is  at  present. 


to  take  their  aim  so  as  not  to  miss  their  men.  During 
this  time  the  chiefs  of  the  Five  Cantons,  foreseeing 
that  this  rash  man  was  about  to  bring  on  the  action, 
decided  against  their  will,  and  collected  their  soldiers 
around  the  banners. 


CHAPTER  VIIL 

Unforeseen  Change— The  whole  Army  Advances— Universal  Disorder- The 
Banneret's  Death— The  Banner  in  Danger — Tlie  Banner  Saved— Terrible 
Slaughter— Slaughter  of  the  Pastors— Zwingle's  Ijist  Words— Barbarity 
of  the  Victors — The  Furnace  of  Trial— Zwingle's  dying  Moments — Day 
after  the  Battle— Homage  and  Outrage. 

The  Zurichers,  fearing  that  the  enemy  would  seize 
upon  the  road  that  led  to  their  capital,  were  then 
directing  part  of  their  troops  and  their  guns  to  a  low 
hill  by  which  it  was  commanded.  At  the  very  mo- 
ment that  the  invisible  arquebusiers  stationed  among 
the  beech-trees  were  taking  their  aim,  this  detachment 
passed  near  the  little  wood.  The  deepest  silence  pre  - 
vailed  in  this  solitude :  each  one  posted  there  picked 
out  the  man  he  desired  to  bring  down,  and  Jyik^"  ex- 
claimed:  "In  the  name  of  the  Holy  Trinity — -of  God 
the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Holy  Ghost — of  the  Holy 
Slother  of  God,  and  of  all  the  heavenly  host — fire  I " 
At  the  word  the  deadly  balls  issued  from  the  wood, 
and  a  murderous  carnage  in  the  ranks  of  Zurich  fol- 
lowed this  terrible  discharge.  The  battle,  which  had 
begun  four  hours  ago,  and  which  had  never  appeared 
to  be  a  serious  attack,  now  underwent  an  unforeseen 
change.  The  sword  was  not  again  to  be  returned  to 
the  scabbard  until  it  had  been  bathed  in  ton-euts  of 
blood.  Those  of  the  Zurichers  who  had  not  fallen  at 
this  first  discharge,  lay  fiat  on  the  ground,  so  that  the 
balls  passed  over  their  heads;  but  they  soon  sprang  up, 
saying:  "Shall  we  allow  ourselves  to  be  butchered? 
No !  let  us  rather  attack  the  enemy ! "  Lavater  seized 
a  lance,  and  rushing  into  the  foremost  rank  exclaimed : 
"  Soldiers,  uphold  the  honour  of  God  and  of  our  lords, 
and  behave  like  brave  men ! "  Zwingle,  silent  and 
collected,  like  nature  before  the  bursting  of  the  tempest, 
was  there  also,  halberd  in  hand.  "  Master  Ulrich,"  said 
Bernard  Sprnngli,  "speak  to  the  people  and  encourage 
them." — "Warriors!"  said  Zwingle,  "fear  nothing. 
If  we  are  this  day  to  be  defeated,  still  our  cause  is 
good.     Commend  yourselves  to  God ! " 

The  Zurichers  quickly  turned  the  artillery  they  were 
dragging  to  another  quarter,  and  pointed  it  against  the 
wood ;  but  their  bullets,  instead  of  striking  the  enemy, 
only  reached  the  top  of  the  trees,  and  tore  off  a  few 
branches  that  fell  upon  the  skirmishers. 

Eychmuth,  the  laudamman  of  Schwytz,  came  up  at 
a  gallop  to  recall  the  volunteers  ;  but  seeing  the  battle 
begun,  he  ordered  the  whole  army  to  advance.  Im- 
mediately the  five  banners  moved  forward. 

But  already  Jauch's  skirmishers,  rushing  from 
among  the  trees,  had  fallen  impetuously  upon  the 
Zurichers,  charging  with  their  long  and  pointed  hal- 
berds. "Heretics!  sacrilegists ! "  cried  they,  "we 
have  you  at  last!" — "Man-sellers,  idolaters,  impious 
papists!"  replied  the  Zurichers,   "is  it  really  you?" 


UNIVERSAL  DISORDER— THE  BANNERET'S  DEATH. 


At  first  a  shower  of  stones  fell  from  both  parties  and 
wounded  several ;  immediately  they  came  to  close 
quarters.  The  resistance  of  the  Zurichcrs  was  teirible. 
Each  sirnck  with  the  sword  or  with  the  halberd :  at 
last  the  soldiers  of  the  Five  Cantons  were  driven  back 
in  disorder.  The  Zurichcrs  advanced,  but  in  so  doing 
lost  the  advantajrcs  of  their  position,  and  got  entangled 
in  the  marsh.  Some  IJonian  Catholic  historians  pre- 
tend that  this  fliglit  of  their  troops  was  a  stratagem  to 
draw  the  Zurichcrs  into  the  snare. 

In  the  meantime  the  army  of  the  Five  Cantons 
hastened  through  the  wood.  Burning  with  courage 
and  with  anger,  they  eagerly  quickened  their  steps; 
from  the  midst  of  the  beech-trees  there  resounded  a 
confused  and  savage  noise — a  frightful  murmur ;  the 
ground  shook ;  one  might  have  imagined  that  the 
forest  was  uttering  a  horrible  roar,  or  that  witches 
were  holding  their  nocturnal  revels  in  its  dark  re- 
cesses. In  vain  did  the  bravest  of  the  Zurichcrs  offer 
nn  intrepid  resistance :  the  Waldstettes  had  the  advan- 
tage in  every  quarter.  "They  are  surrounding  us," 
cried  some.  "  Our  men  are  fleeing,"  said  others.  A 
man  from  the  canton  of  Zug,  mingling  with  the 
Zurichcrs,  and  pretending  to  be  of  tlieir  party,  ex- 
claimed: "Fly,  fly,  brave  Zurichcrs,  you  are  betrayed!" 
Thus  everything  is  against  Zurich.  Even  the  hand  of 
Ilim  who  is  tlie  disposer  of  battles  turned  against  this 
people.  Thus  was  it  also  in  times  of  old  that  God 
frequently  chastised  His  own  people  of  Israel  by  the 
Assyrian  sword.  A  panic-terror  seized  upon  the 
bravest,  and  the  disorder  spread  everywhere  with 
frightful  raiiidity. 

In  the  meanwhile  the  aged  Schweitzer  had  raised 
the  great  banner  with  a  firm  hand,  and  all  the  picked 
men  of  Zurich  were  drawn  up  around  it ;  but  soon 
their  ranks  were  thinned.  John  Kammli,  charged 
with  the  defence  of  the  standard,  having  observed  the 
small  number  of  combatants  that  remained  upon  the 
field  of  battle,  said  to  the  banneret:  "Let  us  lower  the 
banner,  my  lord,  and  save  it,  for  our  people  are  flying 
shamefully." — "  Warriors,  remain  firm  !"  replied  the 
aged  banneret,  whom  no  danger  had  ever  shaken. 
The  disorder  augmented — the  number  of  fugitives  in- 
creased every  minute  ;  the  old  man  stood  fast,  amazed 
and  immoveable  as  an  aged  oak  beaten  by  a  frightful 
hurricane.  He  received  unflinchingly  the  blows  that 
fell  upon  him,  and  alone  resisted  the  terrible  storm. 
Kammli  seized  him  by  the  arm :  "  My  lord,"  said  he 
again,  "  lower  the  banner,  or  else  we  shall  lose  it ; 
there  is  no  more  glory  to  be  reaped  here!"  The 
banneret,  who  was  already  mortally  wounded,  ex- 
claimed: "Alas!  must  the  city  of  Zurich  be  so  pun- 
ished .'"  Then,  dragged  off  by  Kammli,  who  held  him 
by  the  arm,  he  retreated  as  far  as  the  ditch.  The 
weight  of  years,  and  the  wounds  with  which  he  was 
covered,  did  not  permit  him  to  cross  it.  He  fell  in  the 
mire  at  the  bottom,  still  holding  the  glorious  standard, 
whose  folds  dropped  on  the  other  bank. 

The  enemy  ran  up  with  loud  shouts,  being  attracted 
by  the  colotn-s  of  Zurich,  as  the  bull  by  the  gladiator's 
flag.  Kammli  seeing  this,  unhesitatingly  leapt  to  the 
bottom  of  the  ditch,  and  laid  hold  of  the  stiff  and  dying 
hands  of  his  chief,  in  order  to  preserve  the  precious 
ensign,  which  they  tightly  grasped.     But  it  was  iu 


vain  :  the  hands  of  the  aged  Schweitzer  would  not  loose 
the  standard.  "My  lord  banneret!"  cried  tliis  faithful 
servant,  "it  is  no  longer  in  your  ]>ower  to  defend  it." 
The  hands  of  the  banneret,  already  stiffened  in  death, 
still  refused ;  upon  which  Kammli  violently  tore  away 
the  sacred  standard,  leapt  upon  the  other  bank,  and 
rushed  with  his  treasure  far  from  the  stei)s  of  the 
enemy.  The  last  Zurichcrs  at  this  moment  reached 
the  ditch;  they  fell  one  after  another  upon  the  expir- 
ing banneret,  and  thus  hastened  his  death. 

Kammli,  however,  having  received  a  wound  from 
a  gun-shot,  his  march  was  retarded,  and  soon  the 
A7aldstettes  surrounded  him  with  their  swords.  The 
Zuricher,  holding  the  banner  in  one  hand,,  and  his 
sword  in  the  other,  defended  himself  bravely.  One  of 
the  AValdstcttes  caught  hold  of  the  staff — another 
seized  the  flag  itself  and  tore  it.  Kammli,  with  one 
blow  of  his  sword,  cut  down  the  former,  and  striking 
around  him,  called  out :  "  To  the  rescue,  brave  Zurich- 
ers !  save  the  honour  and  the  banner  of  our  lords." 
The  assailants  increased  in  number,  and  the  warrior 
was  about  to  fall,  when  Adam  K;eff  of  Wollenwyd 
rushed  up,  sword  in  hand,  and  the  head  of  the  "Wald- 
stette  who  had  torn  the  colours  rolled  upon  the  plain, 
and  his  blood  gushed  out  upon  the  flag  of  Zurich. 
Dumyseu,  member  of  the  Smaller  Council,  supported 
Na^ff  with  his  halberd,  and  both  dealt  such  lusty  blows, 
that  they  succeeded  in  disengaging  the  standard-bearer. 
He,  although  dangerously  wounded,  sprang  forward, 
holding  the  blood-stained  folds  of  the  banner  in  one 
hand,  which  he  carried  off  hastily,  dragging  the  staff 
behind  him.  With  fierce  look  and  fiery  eye,  he  thus 
passed,  sword  in  hand,  through  the  midst  of  friends 
and  enemies :  he  crossed  plains,  woods,  and  marshes, 
everywhere  leaving  traces  of  his  blood,  which  flowed 
from  numerous  wounds.  Two  of  his  enemies,  one  from 
Schwytz,  the  other  from  Zug,  were  particularly  eager 
in  his  pursuit.  "Heretic!  villain!"  cried  thev,  sur- 
render and  give  us  the  banner." — "  You  shall  have  my 
life  first,"  replied  the  Ziu-icher.  Then  the  two  hostile 
soldiers,  who  were  embarrassed  by  their  cuirasses, 
stopped  a  moment  to  take  them  off.  Kammli  took 
advantage  of  this  to  get  in  advance:  he  ran;  Huber, 
Dumysen,  and  Dantzler,  of  Nacnikon,  were  at  his  side. 
They  all  four  thus  arrived  near  Ilusen,  half-way  up 
the  Albis.  They  had  still  to  climb  the  steepest  part 
of  the  mountain.  Huber  fell  covered  with  wounds. 
Dumysen,  the  colonel-general,  who  had  fought  as  a 
private  soldier,  almost  reached  the  church  of  Huseu, 
and  there  he  dropt  lifeless :  and  two  of  his  sons,  iu 
the  flower  of  youth,  soon  lay  stretched  on  the  battle- 
field that  had  drunk  their  father's  blood.  Kammli 
took  a  few  steps  farther ;  bnt  halted  erelong,  exhausted 
and  panting,  near  a  hedge  that  he  would  have  to  clear, 
and  discovered  his  two  enemies  and  other  Waldstettes 
running  from  all  sides,  like  birds  of  prey,  towards 
the  wavering  standard  of  Zurich.  The  strength  of 
Kammli  was  sinking  rapidly,  his  eyes  gi-ew  dim,  thick 
darkness  surrounded  him:  a  hand  of  lead  fastened 
him  to  the  ground.  Then,  mustering  all  his  expiring 
strength,  he  flung  the  standard  on  the  otiier  side  of  the 
hedge,  exclaiming:  "Is  there  any  brave  Zuricher  near 
me  ?  Let  him  preserve  the  banner  and  the  honour  of 
our  lords  1    As  for  me,  I  can  do  uo  more!"     Then 


552 


HISTORY  OF  THE  EEFORMATION 


casting  a  last  look  to  heaven,  he  added:  "May  God 
be  my  helper  1 "  He  fell  exhausted  by  this  last  eif ort. 
Dautzler,  who  came  up,  flung  away  his  sword,  sprung 
over  the  hedge,  seized  the  banner,  and  cried,  ""With 
tlie  aid  of  God  I  will  carry  it  off."  He  then  rapidly 
climbed  the  Albis,  and  at  last  placed  the  ancient  stand- 
ard of  Zurich  in  safety.  God,  on  whom  these  warriors 
fixed  all  their  hopes,  had  heard  their  prayers,  but  the 
noblest  blood  of  the  republic  had  been  spilt. 

The  enemy  were  victorious  at  all  points.  The  sol- 
diers of  the  Five  Cantons,  and  particularly  those  of 
Uuterwalden,  long  hardened  in  the  wars  of  the  Milanese, 
shewed  themselves  more  merciless  towards  their  con- 
federates thfin  they  had  ever  been  towards  foreigners. 
At  the  beginning  of  the  battle,  Giidli  had  taken  flight, 
and  soon  after  he  quitted  Zurich  for  ever.  Lavater, 
the  captain-general,  after  having  fought  valiantly,  had 
fallen  into  the  ditch.  He  was  dragged  out  by  a  soldier, 
and  escaped. 

Tlie  most  distinguished  men  of  Zurich  fell  one  after 
another  under  the  blows  of  the  Waldstettes.  Rudi 
Gallman  found  the  glorious  tomb  he  had  wished  for, 
and  his  two  brothers  stretched  beside  him  left  their 
father's  house  desolate.  Toning,  captain  of  the  arque- 
busiers,  died  for  his  country  as  he  had  foretold.  All 
the  pride  of  the  population  of  Zurich,  seven  members 
of  the  Smaller  Council,  nineteen  members  of  the  Two 
Hundred,  sixty-five  citizens  of  the  town,  four  hundred 
and  seventeen  from  the  rural  districts :  the  father  in 
the  midst  of  his  children — the  son  sun-ounded  by  his 
brothers — lay  on  the  field. 

Gerold  Meyer  of  Kuonau,  son  of  Anna  Zwingle,  at 
that  time  twenty-two  years  of  age,  and  already  a  mem- 
ber of  the  council  of  Two  Hundred, — a  husband  and  a 
father, — had  rushed  into  the  foremost  ranks  with  all 
the  impetuosity  of  youth.  "  Surrender,  and  your  life 
shall  be  spared,"  cried  some  of  the  warriors  of  the  Five 
Cantons,  who  desired  to  save  him.  "  It  is  better  for 
me  to  die  with  honour  thau  to  yield  with  disgi-ace," 
replied  the  son  of  Anna,  and  immediately,  struck  by  a 
mortal  blow,  he  fell  and  expired  not  far  from  the  castle 
of  his  ancestors. 

The  ministers  were  those  who  paid  proportionally 
the  greatest  tribute  on  this  bloody  day.  The  sword 
that  was  at  work  on  the  heights  of  Cappel  thirsted  for 
their  blood :  twenty-five  of  them  fell  beneath  its  stroke. 
The  Waldstettes  trembled  with  rage  whenever  they 
discovered  one  of  these  heretical  preachers,  and  sacri- 
ficed him  with  enthusiasm,  as  a  chosen  victim  to  the 
Virgin  and  the  saints.  There  has,  perhaps,  never 
been  any  battle  in  which  so  many  men  of  the  Word 
of  God  have  bitten  the  dust.  Almost  everywhere 
the  pastors  had  marched  at  the  head  of  their  flocks. 
One  might  have  said  that  Cappel  was  an  assembly  of 
Christiac  churches,  rather  than  an  army  of  Swiss  com- 
panies. The  Abbot  Joncr,  receiving  a  mortal  wound 
near  the  ditch,  expired  in  sight  of  his  own  monastery. 
The  people  of  Zug,  in  pursuit  of  the  enemy,  uttered  a 
cry  of  anguish  /is  they  passed  his  body,  remembering 
all  the  good  he  had  done  them.  Schmidt  of  Kuss- 
nacht,  stationed  on  the  field  of  battle  in  the  midst  of 
his  parishioners,  fell  surrounded  by  forty  of  their 
bodies.  Geroldsek,  John  Haller,  and  many  other 
pastors,  at  the  head  of  then-  flocks,  suddenly  met,  in 


a  terrible  and  unforeseen  manner,  the  Lord  whom  they 
had  preached. 

But  the  death  of  one  individual  far  surpassed  all 
others.  Zwingle  was  at  the  post  of  danger,  the  helmet 
on  his  head,  the  sword  hanging  at  his  side,  the  battle- 
axe  in  his  hand.^  Scarcely  had  the  action  begun,  when, 
stooping  to  console  a  dying  man,  says  J.  J.  Ilottinger, 
a  stone  hurled  by  the  vigorous  arm  of  a  Waldstette 
struck  hits  on  the  head  and  closed  his  lips.  Yet 
Zwingle  arose,  when  two  other  blows,  which  hit  him 
successively  on  the  leg,  threw  him  down  again.  Twice 
more  he  stands  up ;  but  a  fourth  time  he  receives  a 
thrust  from  a  lance,  he  staggers,  and  sinking  beneath 
so  many  wounds,  falls  on  his  knees.  Does  not  the 
darkness  that  is  spreading  around  him  announce  a 
still  thicker  darkness  that  is  about  to  cover  the  Church? 
Zwingle  turns  away  from  such  sad  thoughts ;  once 
more  he  uplifts  that  head  which  had  been  so  bold,  and 
gazing  with  calm  eye  upon  the  trickling  blood,  exclaims; 
"What  matters  this  misfortune?  They  may  indeed 
kill  the  body,  but  they  cannot  kill  the  soul !"  These 
were  his  last  words. 

He  had  scarcely  uttered  them  ere  he  fell  backwards. 
There,  under  a  tree,  (Zwingle's  Pear-tre;^,)  in  a  meadow, 
he  remained  lying  on  his  back,  with  clasped  hand,  and 
eyes  upturned  to  heaven. 

While  the  bravest  were  pursuing  the  scattered  sol- 
diers of  Zurich,  the  stragglers  of  the  Five  Cantons  had 
pounced  like  hungry  ravens  on  the  field  of  battle. 
Torch  in  hand,  these  wretches  prowled  among  the  dead, 
casting  looks  of  irritation  around  them,  and  lighting  up 
the  features  of  their  expiring  victims  by  the  dull  glim- 
mering of  these  funereal  torches.  They  turned  over 
the  bodies  of  the  wounded  and  the  dead ;  they  tortured 
and  stripped  them.  If  they  found  any  who  were  still 
sensible,  they  cried  out,  "  Call  upon  the  saints  and  con- 
fess to  our  priests !"  If  the  Zurichers,  faithful  to  their 
creed,  rejected  these  cruel  invitations,  these  men,  who 
were  as  cowardly  as  they  were  fanatical,  pierced  them 
with  their  lances,  or  dashed  out  their  brains  with  the 
butt-ends  of  their  arquebuses.  The  Roman  Catholic 
historian,  Salat  of  Lucerne,  makes  a  boast  of  this. 
"  They  were  left  to  die  like  infidel  dogs,  or  were  slain 
with  the  sword  or  the  spear,  that  they  might  go  so 
much  the  quicker  to  the  devil,  with  whose  help  they 
had  fought  so  desperately."  If  any  of  the  soldiers  of 
the  Five  Cantons  recognised  a  Zuricher  against  whom 
they  had  any  grudge,  with  dry  eyes,  disdainful  mouth, 
and  features  changed  by  anger,  they  drew  near  the 
unhappy  creature,  writhing  in  the  agonies  of  death, 
and  said :  "  AVell !  has  your  heretical  faith  preserved 
you?  Ah,  ha!  it  was  pretty  clearly  seen  to-day  who 
had  the  true  faith.  ,  ,  .  To-day  we  have  dragged 
your  Gospel  in  the  mud,  and  you  too,  oven  you  are 
covered  with  your  own  blood.  God,  the  Virgin,  and 
the  saints,  have  punished  you."  Scarcely  had  they 
uttered  these  words  before  they  plunged  their  swords 
into  their  enemy's  bosom.  "  Mass  or  death !"  was  their 
watchword. 

Thus  triumphed  the  Waldstettes,  but  the  pious 
Zurichers  who  expired  on  the  field  of  battle  called 
to   mind  that  they  had  for  God  one  who  has  said: 

1  Tlie  chaplains  of  the  Swiss  troops  still  wear  a  sword.  Zwingle  did  not 
make  use  of  his  arms. 


DEATH  OF  ZWINGLE. 


553 


If  ye  endure  cliastentng,  God  dealeth  with  you  as  tvith 
sons ;  for  what  son  is  he  whom  the  father  chasteneth  not  ? 
— Though  he  slay  me.  yet  will  I  trust  in  Him.  It  is  in 
the  furnace  of  triul  that  the  God  of  the  Gospel  con- 
ceals tlie  pure  gold  of  His  most  precious  blessings. 
This  punishment  was  necessary  to  turn  aside  the 
Church  of  Zurich  from  the  '-broad  ways"  of  the 
Avorld,  and  lead  it  back  to  the  "  narrow  ways "  of 
the  Spirit  and  the  life.  In  a  political  history,  a 
defeat  like  tliat  of  Cappcl  would  be  styled  a  great 
misfortune;  but  in  a  history  of  the  Church  of  Jesus 
Christ,  such  a  blow,  inflicted  by  the  hand  of  the 
Father  himself,  ought  rather  to  be  called  a  great 
blessing. 

Meanwhile  Zwingle  lay  extended  under  the  tree, 
near  the  road  by  which  the  mass  of  the  people  was 
passing.  The  shouts  of  the  victors,  the  groans  of  the 
dying,  those  flickering  torches  borne  from  corpse  to 
corpse ;  Zurich  humbled,  the  cause  of  Keform  lost — 
all  cried  aloud  to  him  that  God  punishes  His  servants 
when  they  have  recourse  to  the  arm  of  man.  If  the 
German  reformer  had  been  able  to  approach  Zwingle 
at  this  solemn  moment,  and  pronounce  those  oft-re- 
peated, words, -^"Christians,  fight  not  with  sword  and 
arfiuebuse,  but  with  sufferings  and  with  the  cross," 
Zwingle  would  have  stretched  out  his  dying  hand, 
and  said,  "  Amen." 

Two  of  the  soldiers  who  were  prowling  over  the 
field  of  battle,  having  come  near  the  reformer  without 
recognising  him,  "  Do  you  wish  for  a  priest  to  confess 
yourself? "  asked  they.  Zwingle,  without  speaking,  (for 
lie  had  not  strength,)  made  signs  in  the  negative.  "If 
you  cannot  speak,"  replied  the  soldiers,  "  at  least  think 
in  thy  heart  of  the  Mother  of  God,  and  call  upon  the 
saints  !"  Zwingle  again  shook  his  head,  and  kept  his 
eyes  still  fixed  on  heaven.  Upon  this  the  irritated 
soldiers  began  to  curse  him.  "No  doubt,"  said  they, 
"you  are  one  of  the  heretics  of  the  city!"  One  of 
them,  being  curious  to  know  who  he  was,  stooped  down 
and  turned  Zwingle's  head  in  the  direction  of  a  fire 
that  Ii.id  been  lighted  near  the  spot.  The  soldier  im- 
mediately let  him  fall  to  the  ground.  "I  think,"  said 
he,  surprised  and  amazed, — "I  think  it  is  Zwingle!" 
At  this  moment  Captain  Fockiuger  of  Unterwalden, 
a  veteran  and  a  pensioner,  drew  near :  ho  had  heard 
the  last  words  of  the  soldier.  "Zwingle!"  exclaimed 
he;  "that  vile  heretic  Zwingle!  that  rascal,  that  traitor!" 
Then  raising  his  sword,  so  long  sold  to  the  stranger, 
he  struck  the  dying  Christian  on  the  throat,  exclaim- 
ing, in  a  violent  passion,  "Die,  obstinate  heretic!" 
Yielding  under  this  last  blow,  the  reformer  gave  up 
the  ghost :  he  was  doomed  to  perish  by  the  sword  of  a 
mercenary.  Precious  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord  is  the 
death  of  His  saints.  The  soldiers  ran  to  other  victims. 
All  did  not  shew  tlie  same  barbarity.  The  night  was 
cold ;  a  thick  hoar-frost  covered  the  fields  and  the 
bodies  of  the  dying.  The  Protestant  historian,  BuUin- 
gcr,  informs  us  that  some  Waldstettcs  gently  raised 
the  wounded  in  their  arms,  bound  up  their  wounds, 
and  carried  them  to  the  fires  lighted  on  the  field  of 
battle.  "Ah!"  cried  they,  "why  have  the  Swiss  thus 
slaughtered  one  another !" 

The  main  body  of  the  army  had  remained  on  the 
field  of  battle  near  the  standards.     The  soldiers  con- 


versed around  the  fires,  interrupted  from  time  to  time 
by  the  cries  of  the  dying.  During  this  time  the  chiefs 
assembled  in  the  convent  sent  messengers  to  carry  the 
news  of  their  signal  victory  to  the  coiifcderate  cantons, 
and  to  the  Konian  Catholic  powers  of  Germany. 

At  length  the  day  appeared.  The  AValdstettes  spread 
over  the  field  of  battle,  running  here  and  there,  stop- 
ping, eoiitcmphiting,  struck  with  surprise  at  the  sight 
of  their  most  formidable  enemies  stretched  lifeless  on 
tlie  plain ;  but  sometimes  also  shedding  tears  as  they 
gazed  on  corpses  w-liich  reminded  them  of  old  and 
sacred  tics  of  friendship.  At  length  they  reached  the 
pear-tree  under  which  Zwingle  lay  dead,  and  an  im- 
mense crowd  collected  around  it.  His  countenance 
still  beamed  with  expression  aud  with  life.  "He  has 
the  look,"  said  Bartholomew  Stocker  of  Zug,  who  had 
loved  him, — "  he  has  the  look  of  a  living,  rather  than 
of  a  dead  man.  Such  was  he  when  he  kindled  the 
peojile  by  the  fire  of  his  eloquence."  All  eyes  were 
fixed  upon  the  corpse.  John  Schonbrunner,  formerly 
canon  of  Zurich,  who  had  retired  to  Zug  at  the  epoch 
of  the  Reformation,  could  not  restrain  his  tears : 
"Whatever  may  have  been  thy  creed,"  said  he,  "I 
know,  Zwingle,  that  thou  hast  been  a  loyal  confed- 
erate !     May  thy  soul  rest  with  God !" 

But  the  pensioners  of  the  foreigner,  on  whom  Zwingle 
had  never  ceased  to  make  war,  required  that  the  body 
of  the  heretic  should  be  dismembered,  and  a  portion 
sent  to  each  of  the  Five  Cantons.  "  Peace  be  to  the 
dead!  and  God  alone  bo  their  judge!"  exclaimed  the 
avoyer  Golder  and  the  landamman  Thoss  of  Zug. 
Cries  of  fury  answered  their  appeal,  and  compelled 
them  to  retire.  Immediately  the  drums  beat  to  muster; 
the  dead  body  was  tried,  and  it  was  decreed  that  it 
should  be  quartered  for  treason  against  the  confedera- 
tion, and  then  burnt  for  heresy.  The  executioner  of 
Lucerne  carried  out  the  sentence.  Flames  consumed 
Zwingle's  disjointed  members  ;  the  ashes  of  swine  were 
mingled  with  his ;  aud  a  lawless  multitude  rushing 
upon  his  remains  flung  them  to  the  four  winds  of 
heaven. 

Zwingle  was  dead.  A  great  light  had  been  extin- 
guished in  the  Church  of  God.  Mighty  by  the  Word 
as  were  the  other  reformers,  he  had  been  more  so  than 
they  in  action;  but  this  very  power  had  been  his 
weakness,  and  he  had  fallen  under  the  weight  of  his 
own  strength.  Zwingle  was  not  forty-eight  years  old 
when  he  died.  If  the  might  of  God  always  accom- 
panied the  might  of  man,  what  would  he  not  have 
done  for  the  IJeformation  in  Switzerland,  and  even  in 
the  empire!  But  he  had  wielded  an  arm  that  God  had 
forbidden ;  the  helmet  had  covered  his  head,  and  he 
had  grasped  the  halberd.  His  more  devoted  friends 
were  themselves  astonished,  and  exclaimed :  "  We 
know  not  what  to  say!  ...  A  bishop  in  arms!" 
The  bolt  had  furrowed  the  cloud,  the  blow  had  reached 
the  reformer,  aud  his  body  was  no  more  than  a  hand- 
ful of  dust  in  the  palm  of  a  soldier. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  EEFORMATION. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Ciiistcmatioii  in  Zuvidi— Violence  of  the  Populace— Grief  and  Distress— 
Zwingle  is  dead !— Funeral  Oration— Army  of  Zurich- Another  Reverse 
on  the  Gouhel— Inactivity  of  the  Bernese— Hopes  and  Plan  of  Charles 
v.— End  of  the  War— Treaty  of  Peace. 

Frightful  darkness  hung  over  Zurich  diirnig  the 
night  that  followed  the  afflicting  day  of  Cappcl.  It 
was  seven  in  the  evening  when  tlie  first  news  of  the 
disaster  arrived.  .  .  .  Vague  but  alarming  reports 
spread  at  first  with  the  rapidity  of  lightning.  It  v/as 
known  that  a  terrible  blow  had  been  inflicted,  but  not 
of  what  kind ;  soou  a  few  wounded  men,  who  arrived 
from  the  field  of  battle,  cleared  up  the  frightful 
mystery.  "Then,"  said  BuUinger,  whom  we  shall 
allow  to  speak,  '-there  arose  suddenly  a  loud  and 
horrible  cry  of  lamentation  and  tears,  bewailing  and 
groaning."  The  consternation  was  so  much  the  greater 
because  no  one  had  expected  such  a  disaster.  "  There 
is  not  enough  for  a  breakfast,"  had  said  some  haughty 
worldly  men  ;  "  With  one  blow  we  shall  be  masters  of 
tlie  Five  Chalets"  had  said  another ;  and  an  old  soldier 
added  with  disdainful  sneer,  "  We  shall  soon  have 
scattered  these  five  dunghills."  The  Christian  portion, 
convinced  that  Zurieli  was  fighting  in  a  good  cause,  had 
not  doubted  that  victory  would  be  on  the  side  of  truth. 
.  .  .  Thus  their  first  stupefaction  was  succeeded  by 
a  violent  outburst  of  rage.  With  blind  fury  the  mob 
accused  all  their  chiefs,  and  loaded  with  insults  even 
tlioso  who  had  defended  their  country  at  the  price  of 
their  blood.  An  immense  crowd — agitated,  pale,  and 
bewildered,  filled  all  the  streets  of  the  city.  They 
met,  they  questioned,  and  replied ;  they  questioned 
again,  and  the  answer  could  not  be  heard,  for  the 
shouts  of  the  people  interrupted  or  drowned  the  voice 
of  the  speakers.  The  councillors  who  had  remained 
in  Zurich  repaired  in  haste  to  the  town-hall.  The 
people,  who  had  already  assembled  there  in  crowds, 
looked  on  with  threatening  eyes.  Accusations  of 
treason  burst  from  every  mouth,  and  the  patricians 
were  pointed  out  to  the  general  indignation.  They 
must  have  victims.  "  Before  going  to  fight  against 
the  enemy  on  the  frontiers,"  said  the  mob,  "we  should 
defend  ourselves  against  those  who  are  within  our 
walls."  Sorrow  and  fear  excited  the  minds  of  all. 
That  savage  instinct  of  the  populace,  which  in  great 
calamities  leads  them,  like  a  wild  beast,  to  thirst  for 
blood,  was  violently  aroused.  A  hand  from  the  midst 
of  the  crowd  points  out  the  council-hall,  and  a  harsh 
and  piercing  voice  exclaims:  "Let  us  chop  off  the 
heads  of  some  of  the  men  who  sit  in  these  halls,  and 
let  their  blood  ascend  to  heaven,  to  beg  for  mercy  in 
behalf  of  those  whom  they  have  slain." 

But  tliis  fury  is  nothing  in  comparison  with  that 
which  broke  out  against  the  ministers,  against  Zwingle, 
and  all  those  Ciirislians  who  were  the  cause  (s.ay  they) 
of  the  ruin  of  the  country.  Fortunately  the  sword  of 
the  Waldstettes  had  withdrawn  them  from  the  rage  of 
their  fellow-citizens  ;  nevertheless,  there  still  remained 
some  who  could  pay  for  the  others.  Leo  Juda,  whom 
Zwingle's  death  was  about  to  raise  to  the  head  of 
religious  affairs,  had  scarcely  recovered  from  a  serious 


illness  ;  it  was  on  him  they  rushed.  They  threatened, 
tliey  pursued  him ;  a  few  worthy  citizens  carried  him 
off  and  hid  him  in  their  houses.  The  rage  of  these 
madmen  was  not  appeased :  they  continued  shouting 
that  atonement  must  be  made  for  the  slaughter  at 
Cappe],  by  a  still  more  frightful  slaughter  within  the 
very  walls  of  the  city.  But  God  placed  a  curb  in  the 
mouths  of  these  infuriate  beasts  of  prey,  and  subdued 
them. 

On  a  sudden,  grief  succeeded  to  rage,  and  sobs 
choked  the  utterance  of  the  most  furious.  All  those 
whose  relatives  had  marched  to  Capjiel,  imagined  that 
they  were  among  the  number  of  the  victims.  Old  men, 
women,  and  cliildren,  went  forth  in  the  darkness  by 
the  glimmering  light  of  torches,  with  haggard  eyes 
and  hurried  steps  ;  and  as  soon  as  some  wounded  man 
arrived,  they  questioned  him  with  trembling  voice 
about  those  whom  they  were  seeking.  Some  replied : 
"  I  saw  him  fall  close  by  my  side." — "  Pie  was  sur- 
rounded by  so  many  enemies,"  said  others,  "  that  there 
was  no  chance  of  safety  for  him."  At  these  words  the 
distracted  family  dropt  their  torches,  and  filled  the  air 
with  shrieks  and  groans. 

Anna  Zwingle  had  heard  from  her  house  the  repeated 
discharges  of  artillery.  As  wife  and  mother,  she  had 
passed  in  expectation  many  long  hours  of  anguish, 
offering  fervent  prayers  to  heaven.  At  length  the  most 
terrible  accounts,  one  after  another,  burst  upon  her. 

In  the  midst  of  those  whose  cries  of  despair  re-echoed 
along  the  road  to  Cappcl,  was  Oswald  Myconius,  who 
inquired  with  anxiety  what  had  become  of  his  friend. 
Soon  he  heard  one  of  the  unfortunate  wretches  who 
had  escaped  from  the  massacre,  relating  to  those  around 
him  that  Zwingle  had  fallen  !  .  .  .  Zwingle  is  no 
more !  Zwingle  is  dead !  Tiic  cry  was  repeated :  it  | 
ran  through  Zurich  with  the  rapidity  of  lightning,  and 
at  length  reached  the  unhappy  widow.  Anna  fell  on  j 
her  knees.  But  the  loss  of  her  husband  was  not  enough  : 
God  had  inflicted  other  blows.  Messengers  following 
each  other  at  short  intervals  announced  to  her  the 
death  of  her  son  Gerold  of  Knonau,  of  her  brother  the 
bailiff  of  Reinhard,  of  her  son-in-law  Antony  Wirz, 
of  John  Lutsciii,  the  husband  of  her  dear  sister,  as  well 
as  of  all  her  most  intimate  friends.  This  woman  re- 
mained alone — alone  with  her  God;  alone  with  her 
young  children,  who,  as  they  saw  her  tears,  wept  also, 
and  tlirew  themselves  disconsolate  into  their  mother's 
arms. 

On  a  sudden  the  alarm-bell  rang.  The  council,  dis- 
tracted by  the  most  contrary  opinions,  had  at  last 
resolved  to  summon  all  the  citizens  towards  the  Albis. 
But  the  sound  of  the  tocsin  re-echoing  through  the 
darkness,  the  lamentable  stories  of  the  wounded,  and  l 
the  distressful  groans  of  bereaved  families,  still  further 
increased  the  tumult.  A  numerous  and  disorderly  troop 
of  citizens  rushed  along  the  road  to  Cappel.  Among 
them  was  the  Valaisan,  Thomas  Plater.  Here  he  met 
with  a  man  that  had  but  one  hand, — there  were  others 
who  supported  their  wounded  and  bleeding  heads  with 
both  hands ;  further  still  was  a  soldier  whose  bowels 
protruded  from  his  body.  In  front  of  these  unhappy  | 
creatures  peasants  were  walking  with  liglited  torches, 
for  the  night  was  very  dark.  Plater  wished  to  return ;  j 
but  he  could  not,  for  sentinels  placed  on  the  bridge     i 


FUNERAL  OKATION— ARMY  OF  ZURICH. 


555 


over  tlic  Silil  allowed  persons  to  quit  Zurich,  but  pcr- 
jnitleil  no  one  to  rc-eutcr. 

On  tlic  morrow  the  news  of  the  disgraceful  treat- 
ment of  Zwiugle's  corpse  aroused  all  the  anger  of 
Zurich  ;  and  his  friends,  uplifting  tiieir  tear-bedimmed 
eyes,  exclaimed:  '•These  men  may  fall  upon  his  body; 
they  may  kindle  their  piles,  and  brand  his  innocent 
life  ;  .  .  .  but  he  lives — this  invincible  hero  lives 
in  eternity,  and  leaves  behind  him  an  immortal  monu- 
ment of  glory  that  no  flames  can  destroy.  God,  for 
whose  honour  he  has  laboured,  even  at  the  price  of  his 
blood,  will  make  his  memory  eternal."  "And  I,"  adds 
Leo  Juda, — "I,  upon  whom  he  has  heaped  so  many 
blessings,  will  endeavour,  after  so  many  others,  to  de- 
fend his  renown,  and  to  extol  his  virtues."  Thus  Zurich 
consecrated  to  Zwingle  a  funeral  oration  of  tears  and 
sighs,  of  gratitude  and  cries  of  anguish.  Never  was 
there  a  funeral  speech  more  eloquent! 

Zurich  rallied  her  forces.  John  Steiner  had  col- 
lected on  the  Albis  some  scattered  fragments  of  the 
army  for  the  defence  of  the  pass;  they  bivouacked 
awund  their  fires  on  the  summit  of  the  mountain,  and 
all  were  in  disorder.  Plater,  benumbed  with  cold,  (it 
is  himself  who  gives  us  the  account.)  had  drawn  off 
liis  boots  to  warm  his  feet  at  the  watchfire.  On  a  sud- 
den an  alarm  was  given,  the  troop  was  hastily  drawn 
up,  and,  while  Plater  was  getting  ready,  a  trumpeter, 
who  had  escaped  from  the  battle,  seized  his  halberd. 
Plater  took  it  back,  and  stationed  himself  in  the  raidis  ; 
before  him  stood  the  trumpeter,  without  hat  or  shoes, 
and  armed  with  a  long  pole.  Such  was  the  army  of 
Zurich. 

The  chief  captain,  Lavater,  rejoined  the  army  at  day- 
break. Gradually  the  allies  came  up ;  1.500  Grisons, 
mulcr  the  orders  of  the  captain-general  Frey  of  Zurich, 
l.iOO  Thurgovians,  600  Tockenburgers,  and  other  auxi- 
liaries besides,  soon  formed  an  army  of  12,000  men. 
All,  even  children,  ran  to  ai-ms.  The  council  g.ave 
orders  that  these  young  folks  should  be  sent  back  to 
share  in  the  domestic  duties  with  the  women. 

Another  reverse  erelong  augmented  the  desolation 
of  the  reformed  party.  While  the  troops  of  Berne, 
Zurich,  Bale,  and  Bienne,  amounting  to  24,000  men, 
were  assembling  at  Brcmgarten,  the  Five  Cantons  in- 
trenched themselves  at  Baar,  near  Zug.  But  Zwingle 
was  wanting  to  the  reformed  army,  and  he  would  have 
been  the  only  man  capable  of  inspiring  them  with 
courage.  A  gust  of  wind  having  throwndown  a  few 
fir-trees  in  the  forests  where  the  Zurichers  were  en- 
camped, and  caused  the  death  of  some  of  their  soldiers, 
they  failed  not  to  see  in  this  the  signal  of  fresh 
reverses. 

Nevertheless,  Frcy  called  loudly  for  battle ;  but  the 
Bernese  commandant,  Diesbach,  refused.  Upon  this 
the  Zurich  captain  set  off  in  the  night  of  the  2;3d  Octo- 
ber, at  the  head  of  1000  men  of  Zurich,  Schaffhansen, 
Biile,  and  St.  Gall;  and,  while  the  Bernese  were  sleep- 
ing quietly,  he  turned  the  AValdstettes,  drove  their  out- 
posts beyond  the  Sihl,  and  took  his  station  on  the 
heights  that  overlook  the  Goubel.  His  imprudent 
soldiers,  believing  victory  to  be  certain,  proudly  waved 
their  banners,  and  then  sunk  into  a  heavy  sleep.  The 
"Waldstettes  had  observed  all.  On  the  24th  October, 
at  two  in  the  morning,  by  a  bright  moonlight,  they 


quitted  their  camp  in  profound  silence,  leaving  their 
fires  burning,  and  wearing  white  shirts  over  their 
dresses,  that  they  might  recognise  one  another  in  the 
obscurity. 

Their  watchword  was  "  Mary,  the  mother  of  God." 
They  glided  stealthily  into  a  pine  forest,  near  which 
the  reformed  troo|)s  were  encamped.  The  men 
stationed  at  the  advaticed  guard  of  the  Zurichers 
having  perceived  the  enemy,  ran  up  to  the  fires  to 
arouse  their  friends,  but  they  had  scarcely  reached 
the  third  fire  before  the  Waldstettes  appeared,  uttering 
a  frightful  shout.  "Mar — liar — liar — liar!  .  .  . 
AVhere  are  these  impious  heretics?  .  .  .  Har — liar 
— liar — liar!"  The  army  of  the  cities  at  first  made  a 
vigorous  resistance,  and  many  of  the  white  shirts  fell 
covered  with  blood;  but  this  did  not  continue  long. 
The  bravest,  with  the  valiant  Frey  at  their  head, 
having  bitten  the  dust,  the  rout  became  general,  and 
800  men  were  left  on  the  field  of  battle. 

In  the  midst  of  these  afflictions  the  Bernese  remained 
stubborn  and  motionless.  Francis  Kolb,  who,  not- 
withstanding his  advanced  age,  had  accompanied  the 
Bernese  contingent  as  chaplain,  reproached  in  a  sermon 
the  negligence  and  cowardice  of  his  party.  "Your 
ancestors,"  said  he,  "  would  have  swmn  .across  the 
Rhine,  and  you — this  little  stream  stops  you!  They 
went  to  battle  for  a  word,  and  you  even  the  Gospel 
cannot  move.  For  us  it  only  remains  to  commit  our 
cause  to  God."  Many  voices  were  raised  against  the 
imprudent  old  man,  but  others  took  up  his  defence ; 
and  the  captain,  James  IM.ay,  being  as  indignant  as  the 
aged  chaplain  at  the  delays  of  his  fellow-citizens,  drew 
his  sword,  and  thrusting  it  into  the  folds  of  the  Ber- 
nese banner,  pricked  the  bear  that  was  represented  on 
it,  and  cried  out  in  the  presence  of  the  whole  army: 
"  You  knave,  will  you  not  shew  your  claws  ? "  But 
the  bear  remained  motionless. 

The  whole  of  the  Reformation  was  compromised. 
Scarcely  had  Ferdinand  received  intelligence  of  the 
death  of  the  arch-heretic  Zwingle,  and  of  the  defeat 
at  Cappel,  than,  with  an  exclamation  of  joy,  he  for- 
warded these  good  news  to  his  brother  the  Emperor 
Charles  the  Fifth,  saying:  "This  is  the  first  of  the 
victories  destined  to  restore  the  faith."  After  the  de- 
feat at  the  Goubel,  he  wrote  again,  saying,  that  if  the 
emperor  were  not  so  near  at  hand,  he  would  not  hesi- 
tate, however  weak  he  might  be,  to  rush  forward  in 
person,  sword  in  hand,  to  terminate  so  righteous  an 
enterprise.  "  Remember,"  said  he,  "  that  )'ou  are  the 
first  prince  in  Christendom,  and  that  you  will  never 
have  a  better  opportunity  of  covering  yourself  with 
glory.  Assist  the  cantons  with  your  troops ;  the 
German  sects  will  perish  when  they  arc  no  longer 
supported  by  heretical  Switzerland." — "The  more  I 
reflect,"  replied  Charles,  "  the  more  I  am  pleased  with 
your  advice.  The  inqicrial  dignity  with  which  I  am 
invested,  the  protection  that  I  owe  to  Christendom  and 
to  public  order,  in  a  word,  the  safety  of  the  house  of 
Austria, — everything  appeals  to  me ! " 

Already  about  two  thousand  Italian  soldiers,  sent  by 
the  pope,  and  commanded  by  the  Genoese  De  ITsola,  had 
unfolded  their  seven  standards,  and  united  near  Zug 
with  the  army  of  the  Five  Cantons.  Auxiliary  troops, 
diplomatic  negotiations,  and  even  missionaries  to  con- 


HISTORY  OP  THE  EBFORMATION. 


vert  the  heretics,  were  not  spared.  The  Bishop  of 
Vcroli  arrived  iu  Switzerland  in  order  to  bring  back 
the  Lutherans  to  the  Eoman  faith  by  means  of  his 
friends  and  of  his  money.  The  Roman  politicians 
hailed  the  victory  at  Cappel  as  the  signal  of  the  re- 
storation of  the  papal  autliority,  not  only  in  Switzer- 
land, but  throughout  the  whole  of  Christendom.  At 
last  this  presumptuous  reformation  was  about  to  be 
repressed.  Instead  of  the  great  deliverance  of  which 
Zwingle  had  dreamt,  the  imperial  eagle,  let  loose  by 
the  Papacy,  was  about  to  pounce  on  all  Europe,  and 
strangle  it  in  its  talons.  The  cause  of  liberty  had  per- 
ished on  the  Albis. 

But  the  hopes  of  the  Papists  were  vain :  the  cause  of 
the  Gospel,  although  humbled  at  this  moment,  was 
destined  finally  to  gain  a  glorious  victory.  A  cloud 
may  hide  the  sun  for  a  time ;  but  the  cloud  passes  and 
the  sun  reappears.  Jesus  Christ  is  always  the  same, 
and  the  gates  of  hell  may  triumph  on  the  battle-field, 
but  cannot  prevail  against  His  Church. 

Nevertheless  everything  seemed  advancing  towards 
a  grand  catastrophe.  The  Tockenburgers  made  peace 
and  retired.  The  Thurgovians  followed  them;  and 
next  the  people  of  Gaster.  The  evangelical  array  was 
thus  gradually  disbanded.  The  severity  of  the  season 
was  joined  to  these  dissensions.  Continual  storms  of 
wind  and  rain  drove  the  soldiers  to  their  homes. 

Upon  this  the  Five  Cantons,  with  the  undisciplined 
bands  of  the  Italian  general,  ITsola,  threw  themselves 
on  the  left  bank  of  the  Lake  of  Zurich.  The  alarm-bell 
was  rung  on  every  side ;  the  peasants  retired  in  crowds 
into  the  city,  with  their  weeping  wives,  their  frightened 
children,  and  their  cattle  that  filled  the  air  with  sullen 
lowings.  A  report,  too,  was  circulated  that  the  enemy 
intended  laying  siege  to  Zurich.  The  country-people, 
in  alarm,  declared  that  if  the  city  refused  to  make 
terms,  they  would  treat  on  their  own  account. 

The  peace  party  prevailed  in  the  council ;  deputies 
were  elected  to  negotiate.  "Above  all  thiugs  preserve 
the  Gospel,  and  then  our  honour,  as  far  as  may  be 
possible!"  Such  were  their  instructions.  On  the  16th 
November,  the  deputies  from  Zurich  ai'rived  in  a 
meadow  situated  near  the  frontier,  on  the  banks  of 
the  Sihl,  iu  which  the  representatives  of  the  Five 
Cantons  awaited  them.  Tliey  proceeded  to  the  delibe- 
rations. "  In  the  name  of  the  most  honourable,  holy, 
and  Divine  Trinity,"  began  the  treaty.  "  Firstly,  we 
the  people  of  Zurich  bind  ourselves  and  agree  to  leave 
our  trusty  and  well-beloved  confederates  of  the  Five 
Cantons,  their  well-beloved  co-burghers  of  the  Valais, 
and  all  their  adherents,  lay  and  ecclesiastic,  in  their 
true  and  indubitable  Christian  faith,  renouncing  all 
evil  intention,  wiles,  and  stratagems.  And,  on  our 
side,  we  of  the  Five  Cantons  agree  to  leave  our  con- 
federates of  Zurich  and  their  allies  in  possession  of 
their  faith."  At  the  same  time,  Eapperschwyl,  Gaster, 
Wesen,  Bremgarten,  Mellingen,  and  the  common  baili- 
wicks, were  abandoned  to  the  Five  Cantons. 

Zurich  had  preserved  its  faith ;  and  that  was  all. 
The  treaty  having  been  read  and  approved  of,  the 
plenipotentiaries  got  off  their  horses,  fell  upon  their 
knees,  and  called  upon  the  name  of  God.  Then  the 
new  captain-general  of  the  Zurichers,  Escher,  a  hasty 
and  eloquent  old  man,  rising  up,  said,  as  he  turned 


towards  the  Waldstettes :  "  God  be  praised  that  I  can 
again  call  you  my  well-beloved  confederates!"  and 
approaching  them,  he  shook  hands  successively  with 
Golder,  Hug,  Troguer,  Rychmuth,  Marquart,  Zellger, 
and  Thoss,  the  terrible  victors  at  Cappel.  All  eyes 
were  filled  with  tears.  Each  took  with  trembling 
hand  the  bottle  suspended  at  his  side,  and  offered  a 
draught  to  one  of  the  chiefs  of  the  opposite  party. 
Shortly  after  a  similar  treaty  was  concluded  with 
Berne. 


CHAPTER  X. 

Restoration  of  Popery  at  Bremgarten  and  RappersulmTl  —  Priests  and 
Monks  everywhere— Sorrow  of  (Bcolampadius  — A  Tranqnil  Scene- 
Peaceful  death  of  (Ecolampadius— Henry  BuIIinger  at  Zurich— Contri- 
tion and  ExiUtation— The  Great  Lesson — Conciusiou. 

The  restoration  of  Popery  immediately  commenced  in 
Switzerland,  and  Rome  shewed  herself  everywhere 
proud,  exacting,  and  ambitious. 

After  the  battle  of  Cappel  the  Romish  minority  at 
Glaris  had  resumed  the  upper-hand.  It  marched  with 
Scliwytz  against  Wesen  and  the  district  of  the  Gfister. 
On  the  eve  of  the  invasion,  at  midnight,  twelve  deputies 
came  and  threw  themselves  at  the  feet  of  the  Schwytzer 
chiefs,  who  were  satisfied  with  confiscating  the  national 
banners  of  these  two  districts,  with  suppressing  their 
tribunals,  annulling  their  ancient  liberties,  and  con- 
demning some  to  banishment,  and  others  to  pay  a 
heavy  fiue.  Next  the  mass,  the  altars,  and  images, 
were  everywhere  re-established,  and  exist  until  the 
present  day.     Such  was  the  pardon  of  Schwytz ! 

It  was  especially  on  Bremgarten,  Mellingen,  and  the 
free  bailiwicks,  that  the  cantons  proposed  to  inflict  a 
terrible  vengeance.  Berne  having  recalled  its  army, 
Mutschli,  the  avoj^er  of  Bremgarten,  followed  Diesbach 
as  far  as  Aran.  In  vain  did  the  former  remind  the 
Bernese  that  it  was  only  according  to  the  orders  of 
Berne  and  Zurich  that  Bremgarten  had  blockaded  the 
Five  Cantons.  "  Bend  to  circumstances,"  replied  the 
general.  On  this  the  wretched  Mutschli,  turning  away 
from  the  pitiless  Bernese,  exclaimed.;  "The  pi'ophet 
Jeremiah  has  well  said,  Cursed  be  he  that  trusteth  in  inan!" 
The  Swiss  and  Italian  bands  entered  furiously  into 
these  flourishing  districts,  brandishing  their  weapons, 
inflicting  heavy  fines  on  all  the  inhabitants,  compelling 
the  Gospel  ministers  to  flee,  and  restoring  everywhere, 
at  the  point  of  the  sword,  mass,  idols,  and  altars. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  lake  the  misfortune  was 
still  greater.  On  the  18th  November,  while  the  re- 
formed of  Rappcrschwyl  were  sleeping  peacefully  in 
reliance  on  the  treaties,  an  army  from  Schwytz  silently 
passed  the  wooden  bridge,  nearly  2000  feet  long,  which 
crosses  the  lake,  and  was  admitted  into  the  city  by  the 
Romish  party.  On  a  sudden  the  reformed  awoke  at 
the  loud  pealing  of  the  bells,  and  the  tumultuous  voices 
of  the  Catholics:  the  greater  part  quitted  the  city. 
One  of  them,  however,  by  name  Michael  Wohlgemuth, 
barricaded  his  house,  placed  arquebuses  at  every  wia- 
dow,  and  repelled  the  attack.  The  exasperated  enemy 
brought  up  some  heavy  pieces  of  artillery,  besieged  this 


PEACEFUL  DEA.TH  OF  (ECOLAMPABIUS. 


557 


extemporaneous  citadel  in  regular  form,  and  Wolilgc- 
nnith  was  soon  taken  and  put  to  dcatli  in  the  midst  of 
horrible  tortures. 

Nowlicre  liud  the  struggle  been  more  violent  than  at 
Solcurc;  tlio  two  parties  were  drawn  up  in  battle-array 
on  each  side  of  the  Aar,  and  the  Romanists  had  already 
discharged  one  ball  against  tlio  opposite  bank,  another 
was  about  to  follow,  when  the  avoyer  Wcnge,  tlirow- 
ing  himself  on  the  mouth  of  tlie  cannon,  cried  out  ear- 
nestly: "Fellow-citizens,  let  there  be  no  bloodslied,  or 
else  let  me  be  your  first  victim  !"  The  astonished  mul- 
titude dropped  their  arms;  but  seventy  evaiigelieul 
families  were  obliged  to  emigrate,  and  Soleure  returned 
under  the  papal  yoke. 

The  deserted  cells  of  St.  Gall,  Muri,  EiusiJlen,  Wet- 
tingcn,  Klieiuau,  St.  Catherine,  llermetschwyll,  and 
Guadeuthall,  witnessed  the  triumphant  return  of  Bene- 
dictines, Franciscans,  Doniiuicans,  and  all  the  Komish 
militia ;  priests  and  monks,  into.xicated  with  their  vic- 
tory, overran  country  and  town,  and  prepared  for  new 
conquests. 

The  wind  of  adversity  was  blowing  with  fury;  the 
evangelical  churches  fell  one  after  another,  like  the 
pines  in  the  forest  whose  fall  before  the  battle  of  the 
Gonbcl  had  raised  s«ch  gloomy  presentiments.  The 
Five  Cantons,  full  of  gratitude  to  the  Virgin,  made  a 
solemn  pilgrimage  to  her  temple  at  Eiiisidlen.  The 
cliaphiins  celebrated  anew  their  mysteries  in  this  deso- 
lated sauctuar)';  the  abbot,  who  had  no  monks,  sent  a 
niiMilior  of  youths  into  Swabia,  to  be  trained  up  in  the 
rules  of  the  order;  and  this  famous  chapel,  which 
Zwinglc's  voice  had  converted  into  a  sanctuary  for  the 
'Word,  became  for  Switzerland,  what  it  has  remained 
until  tliis  day,  the  centre  of  the  power  and  of  the  in- 
trigues of  the  Papacy. 

But  this  Wius  not  enough.  At  the  very  time  that 
these  nourishing  churches  were  falling  to  the  ground, 
the  Reform  witnessed  the  extinction  of  its  brightest 
lights.  A  blow  from  a  stone  had  slain  the  energetic 
Zwingle  on  the  field  of  battle,  and  the  rebound  reached 
the  pacilic  CEcolamp.adius  at  Bale,  in  the  midst  of  a 
life  that  was  wholly  evangelical.  The  death  of  his 
friend,  the  severe  judgments  with  which  they  pursued 
his  memory,  the  terror  that  had  suddenly  taken  the 
jilace  of  the  hopes  he  had  entertained  of  the  future, — 
all  these  stjrrows  rent  the  heart  of  (Ecolampadius,  and 
."■Don  his  head  and  his  life  inclined  sadly  to  the  tomb. 
"  Alas  !"  cried  he,  "  that  Zwingle,  whom  I  have  so  long 
regarded  as  my  right  arm,  has  fallen  under  the  blows 
of  cruel  enemies !"  He  recovered,  however,  sufficient 
energy  to  defend  the  memory  of  his  brother.  "It  was 
not,"  said  he,  "  on  the  heads  of  the  most  guilty  that 
the  wrath  of  Pilate  and  the  tower  of  Siloam  fell.  The 
judgment  began  in  the  house  of  God  ;  our  presumption 
has  been  punished ;  let  our  trust  be  placed  now  on  the 
Lord  alone,  and  this  will  be  an  inestimable  gain." 
CEcolanipadiiis  declined  the  call  of  Zurich  to  take  the 
l)lace  of  Zwingle.  "My  post  is  here,"  said  he,  as  he 
j     looked  upon  Bale. 

He  was  not  destined  to  hold  it  long.  Illness  fell 
upon  him  in  addition  to  so  many  atllictions ;  the  plague 
was  in  the  city,  a  violent  inflammation  attacked  him, 
and  erelong  a  tranquil  scene  succeeded  the  tumult  of 
Cappel.     A  peaceful  death  calmed  the  agitated  hearts 


of  the  faithful,  and  replaced  by  sweet  and  heavenly 
emotions  the  terror  and  distress  with  which  a  horrible 
disaster  had  tilled  them. 

On  hearing  of  the  danger  of  Qicolampadius,  all  the 
city  was  plunged  into  mourning;  a  crowd  of  men  of 
every  age  and  of  every  rank  rushed  to  his  house. 
"  Rejoice,"  said  the  reformer,  with  a  meek  look,  "  I  am 
going  to  a  |)lace  of  everlasting  joy."  He  then  com- 
memorated the  death  of  our  Lord,  with  his  wife,  his 
relations,  and  domestics,  who  shed  floods  of  tears. 
"This  supper,"  said  the  dying  man,  "  is  a  sign  of  my 
real  faith  in  Jesus  Christ  my  Redeemer." 

On  the  morrow  he  sent  for  his  colleagues :  "  My 
brethren,"  said  ho,  "the  Lord  is  there;  He  calls  me 
away.  Oh !  my  brethren,  what  a  black  cloud  is  ap- 
pearing on  the  horizon — what  a  tempest  is  approaching! 
15e  stcadfiist ;  the  Lord  will  preserve  His  own."  He 
then  held  out  his  hand,  and  all  these  faithful  ministers 
clasped  it  with  veneration. 

On  the  23d  November,  he  called  his  children  around 
him,  the  eldest  of  whom  was  barely  three  years  old. 
"  Eusebius,  Irene,  Alothea,"  said  he  to  them  as  he  took 
their  little  hands,  "love  God  who  is  your  Father." 
Their  mother  having  promised  for  them,  the  children 
retired  with  the  blessing  of  the  dying  servant  of  the 
Lord.  The  night  that  followed  this  scene  was  his  last. 
All  the  pastors  were  around  his  bed :  "  What  is  the 
news?"  asked  QScolampadius  of  a  friend  who  came  in. 
"  Nothing,"  was  the  reply.  "  Well,"  said  the  faithful 
disciple  of  Jesus,  "I  will  tell  you  something  new." 
His  friends  awaited  in  astonishment.  "In  a  short 
time  I  shall  be  with  the  Lord  Jesus."  One  of  his 
friends  now  asking  him  if  he  was  incommoded  by  the 
light,  he  replied,  putting  his  hand  on  his  heart :  "  There 
is  light  enough  here."  The  day  began  to  break ;  he 
repeated  in  a  feeble  voice  the  51st  Psalm:  Have  mercij 
upon  me,  0  Lord,  according  to  ihj  lovinij-kindness.  Then 
remaining  silent,  as  if  he  wished  to  recover  strength, 
he  said,  "  Lord  Jesus,  help  me !"  The  ten  pastors  fell 
on  their  knees  around  his  bed  with  uplifted  hands ;  at 
this  moment  the  sun  rose,  and  darted  his  earliest  rays 
on  a  scene  of  sorrow  so  great  and  so  afllicting  with 
which  the  Church  of  God  was  again  stricken. 

The  death  of  this  servant  of  the  Lord  was  like  his 
life,  full  of  light  and  peace.  Oicolampadius  was  in  an 
especial  degree  the  Christian  spiritualist  and  biblical 
divine.  The  importance  he  attached  to  the  study  of 
the  books  of  the  Old  Testament  imprinted  one  of  its 
most  essential  characters  on  the  reformed  theology.' 
Considered  as  a  man  of  action,  his  moderation  and 
meekness  placed  him  in  the  second  rank.  Had  he 
been  able  to  exert  more  of  this  peaceful  spirit  over 
Zwingle,  great  misfortunes  might,  perhaps,  have  been 
avoided.  But  like  all  men  of  meek  disposition,  his 
peaceful  character  yielded  too  much  to  the  energetic 
will  of  the  minister  of  Zurich;  and  he  thus  renounced, 
in  part  at  least,  the  legitimate  influence  that  he  might 
have  exercised  over  the  reformer  of  Switzerland  and  of 
the  Chui-ch. 

Zwingle  and  Qicolampadius  had  fallen.     There  was 

1  See  his  Commentaries  on  Isaiah,  (1525,)  1st  chai)ter ;  on  Ezekiel,  (152";) 
ITaggai,  Zechariah,  Malachi,  (1S27;)  Daniel,  (1530 ;)  and  the  Commentaries 
published  after  his  death,  with  interpretations  on  Jeremiah,  Ezekiel,  Hosea, 
Joel,  Amos,  Obadiah,  Jonah,  and  the  1st  and  2d  cliapters  of  3Iicah. 


HISTOEY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


a  gi-eat  void  aud  gi-eat  sorrow  iu  the  Churcli  of  Christ. 
Disseusious  vanished  before  these  two  graves,  aud  no- 
thing couhl  be  seen  but  tears.  Luther  himself  was 
moved.  On  receiving  the  news  of  these  two  deaths, 
he  called  to  mind  the  days  he  had  passed  with  Zwingle 
and  CEcolampadius  at  Marburg;  and  the  blow  inflicted 
on  him  by  their  sudden  decease  was  such,  that  many 
years  after,  he  said  to  Bullinger:  '"Their  death  filled  me 
with  such  intense  sorrow,  that  I  was  near  dying  myself." 

The  youthful  Henry  Bullinger,  threatened  with  the 
scaffold,  had  been  compelled  to  flee  from  Bremgarten, 
Lis  native  town,  with  his  aged  father,  his  colleagues, 
aud  sixty  of  the  principal  inhabitants,  who  abandoned 
their  houses  to  be  pillaged  by  the  Waldstettes.  Three 
days  after  this  he  was  preaching  in  tlie  cathedral  of 
Zurich:  "No!  Zwingle  is  not  dead !"  exclaimed  My- 
couius ;  or,  like  the  phcenix,  he  has  risen  again  from 
his  ashes."  Bullinger  was  nnanimously  chosen  to  suc- 
ceed the  great  reformer.  He  adopted  Zwingle's  or- 
phan children, — Wilhelm,  Kegula,  aud  Ulrich, — and 
endeavoured  to  supply  the  place  of  their  father.  This 
young  man,  scarcely  twenty-eight  years  of  age,  and  who 
presided  forty  years  with  wisdom  and  blessing  over 
this  chui'ch,  was  everywhere  greeted  as  the  apostle  of 
Switzerland. 

Yet  as  the  sea  roars  long  after  the  violent  tempest 
has  subsided,  so  the  people  of  Zurich  were  still  iu  com- 
motion. Many  were  agitated  from  on  high.  They 
came  to  themselves ;  they  acknowledged  their  error ; 
the  weapons  of  their  warfare  had  been  carnal ;  they 
were  now  of  a  contrite  and  humble  spirit ;  they  arose 
and  went  to  their  P'ather,  and  confessed  their  sin.  In 
those  days  there  was  great  mourning  in  Zurich.  Some, 
however,  stood  up  with  pride,  protested  by  the  mouth 
of  their  ministers  agaiust  the  work  of  the  diplomatists, 
and  boldly  stigmatized  the  shameful  compact.  "  If 
the  shepherds  sleep,  the  dogs  must  bark,"  exclaimed 
Leo  Juda  iu  the  cathedral  of  Zurich.  '-My  duty  is  to 
give  warning  of  the  evil  they  arc  about  to  do  to  my 
Master's  house." 

Nothing  could  equal  the  sorrow  of  this  city,  except 
the  exultation  of  the  Waldstettes.  The  noise  of  drums 
aud  fifes,  the  firing  of  guns,  the  ringing  of  bells,  had 
long  resouuded  on  the  banks  of  their  lakes,  and  even 
to  their  highest  valleys.  Now  the  noise  was  less,  but 
the  effect  greater.  The  Five  Cantons,  iu  close  alliance 
with  Friburg  and  Soleure,  formed  a  perpetual  league 
for  the  defence  of  the  ancient  Christian  faith  with  the 
Bishop  of  Sion  and  the  tithings  of  the  Valais ;  and 
henceforward  carried  their  measures  in  the  federal 
affairs  with  boldness.  But  a  deep  conviction  was 
formed  at  that  period  in  the  hearts  of  the  Swiss 
Reformed.  "Faith  comes  from  God,"  said  they;  "its 
success  does  not  depend  on  the  life  or  death  of  a  man. 
Let  our  adversaries  boast  of  our  ruin,  we  will  boast 
only  in  the  Cross." — "  God  reigns,"  wrote  Berne  to 
Zurich,  "and  lie  will  not  permit  the  bark  to  founder." 
This  conviction  was  of  more  avail  than  the  victory  of 
CappeL 


Thus  the  Reformation,  that  had  deviated  from  the 
right  path,  was  driven  back  by  the  very  violence  of 
the  assault  into  its  primitive  course,  having  no  other 
power  than  the  Word  of  God.  An  inconceivable  in- 
fatuation had  taken  possession  of  the  friends  of  the 
Bible.  They  had  forgotten  that  our  warfare  is  not 
carnal ;  and  had  appealed  to  arms  and  to  battle.  But 
God  reigns ;  He  punishes  the  churches  aud  the  people 
who  turn  aside  from  His  ways.  We  have  taken  a  few 
stones,  and  piled  them  as  a  monumeut  on  the  battle- 
field of  Cappel,  in  order  to  remind  the  Church  of  the 
great  lesson  which  this  terrible  catastrophe  teaches. 
As  we  bid  farewell  to  this  sad  scene,  we  inscribe  on 
these  monumental  stones,  on  the  one  side,  these  words 
from  God's  Book :  Some  trust  in  chariots,  and  some  in 
Iiorscs ;  but  we  loill  remember  the  name  of  the  Lord  our 
God.  They  are  browjlit  doion  and  fallen :  but  we  are 
risen  and  stand  iipri(jht.  And  on  the  other,  this  declar- 
ation of  the  Head  of  the  Church :  J///  kingdom  is  not 
of  this  world.  If,  from  the  ashes  of  the  martyrs  at 
Cappel,  a  voice  could  be  heard,  it  woidd  be  in  these 
very  words  of  the  Bible  that  these  noble  confessors 
would  address,  after  three  centuries,  the  Christians  of 
our  days.  That  the  Church  has  no  other  king  than 
Jesus  Christ ;  that  she  ought  not  to  meddle  with  the 
policy  of  the  world,  derive  from  it  her  inspu-ation,  and 
call  for  its  swords,  its  prisons,  its  treasures  ;  that  she 
will  conquer  by  the  spmtual  powers  which  God  has 
deposited  in  her  bosom,  and,  above  all,  by  the  reign  of 
her  adorable  Head;  that  she  must  not  expect  upon 
earth  thrones  aud  mortal  triumphs  ;  but  that  her  march 
resembles  that  of  her  King,  from  the  manger  to  the 
cross,  aud  from  the  cross  to  the  crown : — such  is  the 
lesson  to  be  read  on  the  blood-stained  page  that  has 
crept  into  our  simple  and  evangelical  narrative.' 

But  if  God  teaches  His  people  great  lessons,  Ho  also 
gives  them  great  deliverances.  The  bolt  had  fallen 
from  heaven.  The  Reformation  seemed  to  be  little 
better  than  a  lifeless  body  cumbering  the  ground,  aud 
whose  dissevered  limbs  were  about  to  be  reduced  to 
ashes.  But  God  raises  up  the  dead.  New  and  more 
glorious  destinies  were  awaiting  the  Gospel  of  Jesus 
Christ  at  the  foot  of  tlie  Alps.  At  the  south-west 
extremity  of  Switzerland,  iu  a  great  valley  which  the 
white  giant  of  the  mountains  points  out  from  afar ;  on 
the  banks  of  the  Leman  lake,  at  the  spot  where  the 
Riione,  clear  and  blue  as  the  sky  above  it,  rolls  its 
majestic  waters ;  on  a  small  hill  that  the  foot  of  Cajsar 
had  once  trod,  and  on  which  the  steps  of  another  con- 
queror, of  a  Gaul,  of  a  Picardine,-  were  destined  ere- 
long to  leave  their  ineffaceable  aud  glorious  traces, 
stood  an  ancient  city,  as  yet  covered  with  the  dense 
shadows  of  Popery;  but  which  God  was  about  to  raise 
to  be  a  beacon  to  the  Church,  and  a  bulwark  to 
Christendom. 

1  Zwinslc's  Pear-tm  liaring  lu-rislicd,  a  rock  lias  hcax  pLiccl  ovcv  the  spot 
lions,  cliiieitnt,  liowcvcr,  from  tliose  in  the  text. 


THE  GOSPEL  CARRIED  TO  BRITAIN. 


BOOK     XVII, 


EXGL.VND   BEFORE   THE   KEFORMATION. 


CIIAPTER  I. 

Introdaction— Work  of  the  Sixteenth  Century— Unity  and  Diversity— Neces- 
sity of  considering  the  entire  Religious  History  of  England— Establish- 
ment of  Christianity  in  Great  Britain  —  Formation  of  Ecclesiastical 
Catholicism  in  the  Roman  Empire— Spiritual  Christianity  received  by 
Britain— Slavery  and  Conversion  of  Succat— His  Mission  to  hclaud— 
Anglo  Saxons  Re-establish  Paganism  in  England— Columba  at  lona— 
Evangelical  Teaching— Presbytery  and  Episcopacy  in  Gi'eat  Britain- 
Continental  Missions  of  the  Britons— An  Omission. 

Those  heavenly  powers  ■which  had  lain  dormant  in  the 
Church  since  tlie  first  ages  of  Christianity,  awoke  from 
their  slumber  in  the  sixteenth  century,  and  this  awak- 
ening called  the  modern  times  into  existence.  The 
Cliurch  was  created  anew,  and  from  tliat  regeneration 
have  flowed  the  great  developments  of  literature  and 
science,  of  morality,  liberty,  and  industry,  which  at 
present  characterize  the  nations  of  Christendom.  None 
of  tliese  things  would  have  existed  without  the  Refor- 
mation. "Whenever  society  outers  upon  a  new  era,  it 
requires  the  baptism  of  faith.  In  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury God  gave  to  man  this  consecration  from  on  high, 
by  leading  him  back  from  mere  outward  profession 
and  the  mechanism  of  works  to  an  inward  and  lively 
faith. 

This  transformation  was  not  effected  without  struggles 
— struggles  which  presented  at  first  a  remarkable  unity. 
On  the  day  of  battle  one  and  the  same  feeliug  animated 
every  bosom :  after  the  victory  they  became  divided. 
Unity  of  faith  indeed  remained,  but  the  difference  of 
nationalities  brought  into  the  Church  a  diversity  of 
forms.  Of  this  we  arc  about  to  witness  a  striking 
example.  The  Reformation,  which  had  begun  its 
triumphal  march  in  Germany,  Switzerland,  France, 
and  several  other  parts  of  the  continent,  was  destined 
to  receive  new  strength  by  the  conversion  of  a  cele- 
brated country,  long  known  as  the  Isle  of  Saints.  This 
island  was  to  add  its  banner  to  the  trophy  of  Protes- 
tantism; but  that  banner  preserved  its  distinctive 
colours.  When  England  became  reformed,  a  puissant 
individualism  joined  its  might  to  the  great  unity. 

If  we  search  for  the  characteristics  of  the  British 
Reformation,  we  shall  find  that,  beyond  any  other, 
they  were  social,  national,  and  truly  human.  There  is 
no  people  among  whom  the  Reformation  has  produced 
to  the  same  degree  that  morality  and  order,  that 
liberty,  public  spirit,  and  activity,  which  are  the  very 
essence  of  a  nation's  greatness.  Just  as  the  Papacy 
bas  degraded  the  Spanish  peninsula,  has  the  Gospel 
exalted  the  British  islands.  Hence  the  study  upon 
which  we  are  entering  possesses  an  interest  peculiar  to 
itself. 

In  order  that  this  study  may  be  useful,  it  should 
have  a  character  of  universality.  To  confine  the  his- 
tory of  a  people  within  the  space  of  a  few  years,  or 


even  of  a  century,  would  deprive  that  history  of  both 
truth  and  life.  AVe  might  indeed  have  traditions, 
chronicles,  and  legends,  but  there  would  be  no  history. 
History  is  a  wonderful  organization,  no  part  of  which 
can  be  retrenched.  To  understand  the  present,  we 
must  know  the  past.  Society,  like  man  himself,  has 
its  infancy,  youth,  maturity,  and  old  age.  Ancient  or 
Pagan  society,  which  Iiad  spent  its  infancy  in  the  East, 
in  the  midst  of  the  antihcllenic  races,  had  its  youth  in 
the  animated  epoch  of  the  Greeks,  its  manhood  in  the 
stern  period  of  Roman  greatness,  and  its  old  age  under 
the  decline  of  the  empire.  Modern  society  has  passed 
through  analogous  stages :  at  the  time  of  the  Reforma- 
tion it  attained  that  of  the  full-grown  man.  We  shall 
now  proceed  to  trace  the  destinies  of  the  Church  in 
England  from  the  earliest  times  of  Christianity.  These 
long  and  distant  preparations  are  one  of  the  distinctive 
characteristics  of  its  reformation. 

Before  the  sixteenth  century  this  Church  had  passed 
through  two  great  phases. 

The  first  was  that  of  its  formation — the  second  that 
of  its  corruption. 

In  its  formation  it  was  oriento-apostolical. 

In  its  corruption  it  was  successively  national-papisti- 
cal and  royal-papistical. 

After  these  two  degrees  of  decline  came  the  last  and 
great  phasis  of  the  Reformation. 

In  the  second  century  of  the  Christian  era,  vessels 
were  frequently  sailing  to  the  savage  shores  of  Britain 
from  the  ports  of  Asia  Minor,  Greece,  Alexandria,  or 
the  Greek  colonies  in  Gaul.  Among  the  merchants 
busied  in  calculating  the  profits  they  could  make  upon 
the  produce  of  the  East  with  which  their  ships  were 
laden,  would  occasionally  be  found  a  few  pious  men 
from  the  banks  of  the  Meander  or  the  Hermus,  con- 
versing peacefully  with  one  another  about  the  birth, 
life,  death,  and  resurrection,  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth ;  and 
rejoicing  at  the  prospect  of  saving  by  these  glad  tidings 
the  pagans  towards  whom  they  were  steering.  It  would 
appear  that  some  British  prisoners  of  war,  having 
learnt  to  know  Christ  during  their  captivity,  bore  also 
to  their  fellow-countrymen  the  knowledge  of  this 
Saviour.  It  may  be,  too,  that  some  Ciiristiau  soldiers, 
the  Corneliuses  of  those  imperial  armies  whose  ad- 
vanced posts  reached  the  southern  parts  of  Scotland, 
desirous  of  more  lasting  concpicsts,  may  have  read  to 
the  people  whom  they  had  subdued  the  writings  of 
Matthew,  Joliu,  and  Paul.  It  is  of  little  consequence 
to  know  whether  one  of  these  first  converts  was, 
according  to  tradition,  a  prince  named  Lucius.  It  is 
certain  that  the  tidings  of  the  Son  of  Man,  cruci- 
fied and  raised  again,  under  Tiberius,  spread  through 
these  islands  more  rapidly  than  the  dominion  of  the 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


emperors,  aud  that  before  the  end  of  the  second  century 
many  churches  worshipped  Christ  beyond  the  walls  of 
Adrian ;  in  those  mountains,  forests,  aud  western  isles, 
which  for  centuries  past  the  Druids  had  filled  with 
their  mysteries  and  their  sacrifices,  and  on  which  even 
the  Koman  eagles  had  never  stooped.  These  churches 
were  formed  after  the  Eastern  type :  the  Britons  would 
have  refused  to  receive  the  type  of  that  Kome  whose 
yoke  they  detested. 

The  first  thing  which  the  British  Christians  received 
from  the  capital  of  the  empire  was  persecution.  But 
Diocletian,  by  striking  the  disciples  of  Jesus  Christ  in 
Britain,  only  increased  their  number.  Many  Christians 
from  the  southern  part  of  the  island  took  refuge  in 
Scotland,  where  they  raised  their  humble  roofs,  and 
under  the  name  of  Ciihkes,  prayed  for  the  salvation  of 
their  protectors.  When  the  surrounding  pagans  saw 
the  holiness  of  these  men  of  God,  they  abandoned  in 


great  numbers  their  sacred  oaks,  their  mysterious 
caverns,  and  their  blood-stained  altars,  and  obeyed 
the  gentle  voice  of  the  Gospel.  After  the  death  of 
these  pious  refugees,  their  cells  were  transformed  into 
houses  of  prayer.'  In  305,  Coustantius  Chlorus  suc- 
ceeded to  the  throne  of  the  Crcsars,  and  put  an  end  to 
the  persecution. 

The  Christianity  which  was  brought  to  these  people 
by  merchants,  soldiers,  or  missionaries,  although  not 
the  ecclesiastical  Catholicism  already  creeping  into  life 
in  the  Roman  empire,  was  not  the  primitive  evangelism 
of  the  apostles.  The  East  and  the  South  could  only 
give  to  the  North  of  what  tliey  possessed.  The  mere 
human  period  had  succeeded  to  the  creative  and  mira- 
culous period  of  the  Church.  After  the  extraordinary 
manifestations  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  which  had  produced 
the  Apostolic  age,  the  Church  had  been  left  to  the 

'  "  Many  Clirislians  from  Britain,  fearing  the  cruelty  of  Diocletian,  took 
refuge  among  the  Scots,  ...  and  the  cells  in  which  their  holy  Uvcs 
Were  ppent  were  changed  into  churches."— Buchanan,  iv.,  e.  xxxv. 


inward  power  of  the  Word  and  of  the  Comforter.  But 
Christians  did  not  generally  comprehend  the  spiritual 
life  to  which  they  were  called.  God  had  been  pleased 
to  give  them  a  Divine  religion  ;  and  this  they  gradually 
assimilated  more  and  more  to  the  religious  of  human 
origin.  Instead  of  saying,  in  the  spirit  of  the  Gospel, 
the  Word  of  God  first,  and  through  it  the  doctrine  aud 
the  life — the  doctrine  and  the  life,  and  through  them 
the  forms  ;  they  said,  forms  first,  aud  salvation  by  these 
forms.  They  ascribed  to  bishops  a  power  which  be- 
longs only  to  Holy  Scripture.  Instead  of  ministers  of 
the  Word,  they  desired  to  have  priests ;  instead  of  an 
inward  sacrifice,  a  sacrifice  offered  on  the  altar ;  and 
costly  temples  iustead  of  a  living  church.  They  began 
to  seek  in  men,  in  ceremonies,  aud  in  holy  places,  what 
they  could  find  only  in  the  Word  and  in  the  lively  faith 
of  the  children  of  God.  In  this  manner  evangelical 
religion  gave  place  to  Catholicism,  and  by  gradual  de- 
generation in  after  years,  Catholicism 
gave  birth  to  Popery. 

This  grievous  transformation  took 
place  more  particularly  in  the  East,  in 
Africa,  and  in  Italy.  Britain  was  at 
first  comparatively  exempt.  At  the 
very  time  that  the  savage  Picts  and 
Scots,  rushing  from  their  heathen 
-__  homes,  were  devastating  the  country, 

;::  :  spreading  terror  on  all  sides,  and  reduc- 

ing the  people  to  slavery,  we  discover 
here  and  there  some  humble  Christian 
receiving  salvation,  not  by  a    clerical 
,  -  sentimentalism,  but  by  the  work  of  the 

--""  Holy  Ghost  in  the  heart.     At  the  end 

- c  of  the  fourth  century  we  meet  with  an 

.  "^  illustrious  examjile  of  such  conversions. 

'''■X^^  On    the   picturesque    banks    of   the 

^^■~  Clyde,  not  far  from  Glasgow,  in   the 

Christian   village    of    Bonavern,    now 
Kilpatrick,  a  little  boy,  of  tender  heart, 
lively  temperament,   aud  indefatigable 
activity,    passed    the    earlier    days    of 
his    life.      He   was    born    about    the 
year   372  a.  d.,    of   a  British  family, 
and  was  named  Succat.'     His  father, 
Calpurnius,    deacon   of    the   church   of   Bonavern,   a 
simple-hearted  pious  man,  and  his  mother,  Couchessa, 
sister  to  the  celebrated  Martin,  archbishop  of  Tours, 
and  a  woman  superior  to  the  majority  of  her  sex,  had 
endeavoured  to  instil  into  his  heart  the   doctrines  of 
Christianity;  but  Succat  did  not  understand  them.    He 
was  fond  of  pleasure,  aud  delighted  to  be  the  leader  of 
his  youthful  companions.    In  the  midst  of  his  frivolities 
he  committed  a  serious  fault. 

Some  few  years  later,  his  parents  having  quitted 
Scotland  and  settled  in  Armorica,  (Bretagne,)  a  terrible 
calamity  befell  them.  One  day  as  Succat  was  playing 
near  the  sea-shore  with  two  of  his  sisters,  some  Irish 
pirates,  commanded  by  O'Neal,  carried  them  all  three 
off  to  their  boats,  and  sold  them  in  Ireland  to  the 
petty  chieftain  of  some  pagan  clan,  Succat  was  sent 
into  the  fields  to  keep  swine.  It  was  while  alone  in 
these  solitary   pastures,    without   priest   and   without 

1  "At  his  baptism  he  was  named  by  liis  pai-ents  not  Patrick,  but  Succat" 
—Usser.  Bnt.  Ecd.  Anliq.,  p.  428. 


PATRICK'S  MISSION  TO  IRELAND. 


temple,  that  tlie  young  slave  called  to  mind  the  Divine 
lessons  which  his  pious  mother  had  so  often  read  to  him. 
The  fault  which  lie  had  committed  pressed  heavily 
niglit  and  day  upon  iiis  soul :  lie  groaned  in  heart,  and 
wept,  lie  turned  repenting  towards  that  meelv  Saviour 
of  whom  Concliessa  had  so  often  spoken  ;  he  fell  at  His 
knees  in  tliat  heathen  land ;  and  imagined  he  felt  the 
arms  of  a  father  uplifting  tiie  prodigal  son.  Succat  was 
then  born  from  on  high,  but  by  an  agent  so  spiritual,  so 
internnl,  that  he  knew  not  tvhatce  it  coineth  or  ivhil/ier  it 
goctli.  Tiie  Gospel  was  written  with  the  finger  of  God 
on  the  tablets  of  Iiis  heart.  "I  was  sixteen  years  old," 
said  he,  "and  knew  not  the  true  God;  but  in  that 
strange  land  tlie  Lord  opened  my  unbelieving  eyes,  and, 
nltliough  late,  I  called  my  sins  to  mind,  and  was  con- 
verted with  my  whole  heart  to  the  Lord  my  God,  wlio 
regarded  ray  low  estate,  had  pity  on  my  youth  and 
ignorance,  and  consoled  me  as  a  father  consoles  his 
children." 

Such  words  as  these  from  the  lips  of  a  swineherd  in 
the  green  pastures  of  Ireland,  set  clearly  before  us  the 
Christianity  which  in  the  fourth  and  fifth  centuries 
converted  many  souls  in  the  British  isles.  In  after 
yeai-s  Rome  established  the  dominion  of  the  priest  and 
salvation  by  forms,  independently  of  the  dispositions  of 
the  heart ;  but  the  iirimitive  religion  of  these  celebrated 
islands  was  that  living  Christianity  whose  substance 
is  the  grace  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  whose  power  is  the 
grace  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  The  herdsman  from  tlic 
banks  of  the  Clyde  was  then  undergoing  tlioso  experi- 
ences which  so  many  evangelical  Christians  in  those 
countries  have  subsequently  undergone.  "The  love  of 
God  increased  more  and  more  in  me,"  said  he,  "  with 
faith  and  the  fear  of  His  name.  The  Spirit  urged  me 
to  such  a  degree  that  I  poured  forth  as  many  as  a 
hundred  prayers  in  one  day.  And  even  during  the 
night,  in  the  forests  and  on  the  mountains  where  I 
kejit  ray  flock,  the  rain,  and  snow,  and  frost,  and 
sufferings,  wliich  I  endured,  excited  me  to  seek  after 
God.  At  that  time  I  felt  not  the  indifference  whicli 
now  I  feel :  the  Spirit  fermented  in  my  heart."  Evan- 
gelical faith  even  then  existed  in  the  British  islands  iu 
the  person  of  this  slave,  and  of  some  few  Christians 
born  again,  like  him,  from  on  high. 

Twice  a  captive,  and  twice  rescued,  Succat,  after 
returning  to  his  family,  felt  an  irresistible  appeal  in  liis 
heart.  It  was  his  duty  to  carry  the  Gospel  to  those 
Irish  pagan?  among  whom  he  had  found  Jesus  Christ. 
His  parents  and  his  friends  endeavoured  in  vain  to 
detain  him  ;  the  same  ardent  desire  pursued  him  in  his 
dreams.  During  the  silent  watches  of  the  night  he 
fancied  he  heard  voices  calling  to  him  from  the  dark 
forests  of  Erin :  "  Come,  holy  child,  and  walk  once 
more  among  us."  lie  awoke  in  tears,  his  breast  filled 
with  the  keenest  emotion.  He  tore  himself  from  the 
arms  of  his  parents,  and  rushed  forth — not  jis  hereto- 
fore with  his  playfellows,  when  he  would  climb  the 
summit  of  some  lofty  hill — but  with  a  heart  full  of 
charity  in  Christ.  He  departed :  "  It  was  not  done  of 
my  own  strength,"  said  he ;  "  it  was  God  who  over- 
came all." 

Succat,  afterwards  known  as  Saint  Patrick,  and  to 
■which  name,  as  to  that  of  St.  Peter  and  other  servants 
of  God,  many  superstitions  have  been  attached,  returned 


to  Ireland,  but  without  visiting  Rome,  as  an  historian 
of  the  twelfth  century  has  asserted.  Ever  active,  i 
prompt,  and  ingenious,  he  collected  the  pagan  tribes  in  ' 
the  fields  by  beat  of  drum,  and  then  narrated  to  them 
in  their  own  tongue  the  history  of  the  Son  of  God. 
Erelong  his  simple  recitals  exercised  a  Divine  power 
over  their  rude  hearts,  and  many  souls  were  converted, 
not  by  external  sacraments  or  by  the  worship  of  images, 
but  by  the  preaching  of  the  Word  of  God.  The  sou 
of  a  chieftain,  whom  Patrick  calls  Beuignus,  learnt 
from  him  to  proclaim  the  Gospel,  and  was  destined  to 
succeed  him.  The  court  bard,  Dubrach  Mac  Valubair, 
no  longer  sang  Druidical  hymns,  but  canticles  addressed 
to  Jesus  Christ.  Patrick  was  not  entirely  free  from 
the  errors  of  the  time ;  perhaps  he  believed  in  pious 
miracles  ;  but  generally  speaking  we  meet  with  nothing 
but  the  Gospel  in  the  earlier  days  of  the  British  Church. 
The  time,  no  doubt,  will  come  when  Ireland  will  again 
feel  the  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  which  had  once 
converted  it  by  the  ministrations  of  a  Scotchman. 

Shortly  before  the  evangelization  of  Patrick  in 
Ireland,  a  Briton  named  Pelagius,  having  visited 
Italy,  Africa,  and  Palestine,  began  to  teach  a  strange 
doctrine.  Desirous  of  making  head  against  the  moral  | 
indifference  into  which  most  of  the  Christians  in  those  | 
countries  had  fallen,  and  which  would  appear  to  have 
been  iu  strong  contrast  with  the  British  austerity,  he 
denied  the  doctrine  of  original  sin,  extolled  free-will, 
and  maintained  that,  if  man  made  use  of  all  the  powers 
of  his  nature,  he  would  attain  perfection.  We  do  not 
find  that  he  taught  these  opinions  iu  his  own  country; 
but  from  the  Continent,  where  he  disseminated  them, 
they  soon  reached  Britain.  The  British  churches 
refused  to  receive  this  "  perverse  doctrine,"  their  his- 
torian tells  us,  "  and  to  bhuspheme  the  grace  of  Jesus 
Christ."  They  do  not  appear  to  have  held  the  strict 
doctrine  of  Saint  Augustine:  they  believed,  indeed,  that 
man  has  need  of  an  inward  change,  and  that  this  the 
Divine  power  alone  can  effect ;  but  like  the  churches 
of  Asia,  from  which  they  had  sprung,  they  seem  to 
have  conceded  something  to  our  natural  strength  in  the 
work  of  conversion  ;  and  Pelagius,  with  a  good  inten- 
tion it  would  appear,  went  still  further.  However 
that  nuiy  be,  these  churches,  strangers  to  the  contro- 
versy, were  unacquainted  with  all  its  subtleties.  Two 
Gaulish  bishops,  Germ.auus  and  Lupus,  came  to  their 
aid,  and  those  who  had  been  perverted  returned  into 
the  way  of  truth. 

Shortly  after  this,  events  of  great  importance  took 
place  in  Great  Britain,  and  the  light  of  faith  dis- 
appeared in  profound  night.  In  449,  Hengist  and 
llorsa,  with  their  Saxon  followers,  being  invited  by  the 
wretched  inhabitants  to  aid  them  against  the  cruel 
ravages  of  the  Picts  and  Scots,  soon  turned  their 
swords  against  the  people  they  had  come  to  assist. 
Christianity  was  driven  back  with  the  Britons  into 
the  mountains  of  AVales  and  the  wild  moors  of  North- 
umberland and  Cornwall.  Many  British  families  re- 
mained in  the  midst  of  the  conquerors,  but  without 
exercising  any  religious  influence  over  them.  While 
the  conquering  races,  settled  at  Paris,  Ravenna,  or 
Toledo,  gradually  laid  aside  their  paganism  and  savage 
manners,  the  barbarous  customs  of  the  Saxons  pre- 
vailed unmoderated  throughout  the  kingdoms  of  the 


HISTORY  OF  THE  BEFORMATION. 


Heptarchy,  and  ia  every  quarter  temples  to  Thor  rose 
above  the  churches  in  which  Jesus  Christ  had  been 
worshipped.  Gaul  aud  the  south  of  Europe,  which 
still  exhibited  to  the  eyes  of  the  barbarians  the  last 
vestiges  of  Romau  grandeur,  alone  had  the  power  of 
inspiring  some  degree  of  respect  in  the  formidable 
Germans,  aud  of  transforming  their  faith.  From 
this  period,  the  Greeks  and  Latins,  and  even  the 
converted  Goths,  looked  at  this  island  with  unutter- 
able dread.  The  soil,  said  they,  is  covered  with  ser- 
pents ;  the  air  is  thick  with  deadly  exhalations ;  the 
souls  of  the  departed  are  transported  thither  at  mid- 
night from  the  shores  of  Gaul.  Ferrymen,  sons  of 
Erobns  and  Night,  admit  these  invisible  shades  into 
their  boats,  and  listen,  with  a  shudder,  to  their  my- 
sterious whisperings.  England,  whence  light  was  one 
day  to  be  shed  over  the  habitable  globe,  was  then  the 
trysting-place  of  the  dead.  And  yet  the  Christianity 
of  the  British  isles  was  not  to  be  annihilated  by  tliese 
barbarian  invasions ;  it  possessed  a  strength  which 
rendered  it  capable  of  energetic  resistance. 

In  one  of  the  churches  formed  by  Succat's  preach- 
ing, there  arose  about  two  centuries  after  him  a  pious 
man  named  Columba,  son  of  Feidlimyd,  the  son  of 
I  Fergus.  Valuing  the  cross  of  Christ  more  highly  than 
I  the  royal  blood  that  flowed  in  his  veins,  he  resolved  to 
j  devote  himself  to  the  King  of  heaven.  Shall  he  not 
repay  to  the  couutry  of  Succat  what  Succat  had  im- 
I  parted  to  his?  "I  will  go,"  said  he,  "and  preach 
the  Word  of  God  in  Scotland ;"  for  the  "Word  of  God, 
and  not  an  ecclesiastical  hierarchisni,  was  then  the  con- 
verting agency.  The  grandson  of  Fergus  communi- 
cated the  zeal  which  animated  him  to  the  hearts  of 
several  fellow-Christians.  They  repaired  to  the  sea- 
shore, and  cutting  dowu  the  pliant  branches  of  the 
osier,  constructed  a  frail  bark,  which  they  covered 
with  the  skins  of  beasts.  In  this  rude  boat  they  em- 
barked in  the  year  5(J5  ;  and  after  being  driven  to  and 
fro  on  the  oceau,  the  little  missionary  band  reached 
the  waters  of  the  Hebrides.  Columba  landed  near  the 
barren  rocks  of  Mull,  to  the  south  of  the  basaltic 
caverns  of  Staffa,  aud  fixed  his  abode  in  a  small 
island,  afterwards  known  as  lona  or  Icolmkill,  "  the 
island  of  Columba's  cell."  Some  Christian  Culdees, 
driven  out  by  the  dissensions  of  the  Picts  and  Scots, 
had  already  found  a  refuge  in  the  same  retired  spot. 
Here  the  missionaries  erected  a  chapel,  whose  walls,  it 
is  said,  still  exist  among  the  stately  ruins  of  a  later 
age.^  Some  authors  have  placed  Columba  in  the  first 
rank  after  the  apostles.  True,  we  do  not  find  in  him 
the  faith  of  a  Paul  or  a  John  ;  but  he  lived  as  iu  the 
sight  of  God ;  he  mortified  the  flesh,  and  slept  on  the 
ground  with  a  stone  for  his  pillow.  Amid  this  solemn 
scenery,  and  among  customs  so  rude,  the  form  of  the 
missionary,  illumined  by  a  light  from  heaven,  shone 
with  love,  and  manifested  the  joy  and  serenity  of  his 
heart.  Although  subject  to  the  same  passions  as  our- 
selves, he  wrestled  against  his  weakness,  and  would 
not  have  one  moment  lost  for  the  glory  of  God.  He 
prayed  and  read,  he  wrote  and  taught,  he  preached 
and  redeemed  the  time.  "With  indefatigable  activity 
he  went  from  house  to  house,  and  from  kingdom  to 

1 1  visited  lona,  in  1845,  with  Dr.  Patrick  M'Farlan,  and  saw  these  ruins. 
One  portion  of  the  building  seems  to  be  of  primitive  architecture. 


kindom.  The  king  of  the  Picts  was  converted,  as  were 
also  many  of  his  people;  precious  manuscripts  were 
conveyed  to  lona ;  a  school  of  theology  was  founded 
there,  in  which  the  AVord  was  studied;  and  many 
received  through  faith  the  salvation  which  is  in  Christ 
Jesus.  Erelong  a  missionary  spirit  breathed  over  this 
ocean  rock,  so  justly  named  '•  the  light  of  the  western 
world." 

The  Judaical  sacerdotalism  which  was  beginning  to 
extend  in  the  Christian  Church  found  no  support  iu 
lona.  They  had  forms,  but  not  to  them  did  they  look 
for  life.  It  was  the  Holy  Ghost,  Columba  maintained, 
that  made  a  servant  of  God.  When  the  youth  of 
Caledonia  assembled  around  the  elders  on  these  savage 
shores,  or  in  their  humble  chapel,  these  ministers  of 
the  Lord  would  say  to  them :  '•  The  Holy  Scriptures 
are  the  only  rule  of  faith.  Throw  aside  all  merit  of 
works,  and  look  for  salvation  to  the  grace  of  God 
alone.  Beware  of  a  religion  which  consists  of  outward 
observances :  it  is  better  to  keep  your  heart  pure  before 
God  than  to  abstain  from  meats.  One  alone  is  your 
head,  Jesus  Christ.  Bishops  and  presbyters  are  equal; 
they  should  be  the  husbands  of  one  wife,  and  have 
their  children  in  subjection." 

The  sages  of  lona  knew  nothing  of  transubstantia- 
tion,  or  of  the  withdrawal  of  the  cup  in  the  Lord's 
Supper,  or  of  auricular  confession,  or  of  prayers  to  the 
dead,  or  tapers,  or  incense ;  they  celebrated  Easter  on 
a  different  day  from  Home ;  synodal  assemblies  regu- 
lated the  affairs  of  the  Church,  and  the  papal  supremacy 
was  unknown.  The  sun  of  the  Gospel  shone  iqion 
these  wild  and  distant  shores.  In  after  years  it  was 
the  privilege  of  Great  Britain  to  recover  with  a  purer 
lustre  the  same  sun  and  the  same  Gospel. 

loua,  governed  by  a  simple  elder, ^  had  become  a 
missionary  college.  It  has  been  sometimes  called  a 
montistery;  but  the  dwelling  of  the  grandson  of  Fergus 
in  nowise  resembled  the  popish  convents.  When  its 
youthful  inmates  desired  to  spread  the  knowledge  of 
Jesus  Christ,  they  thought  not  of  going  elsewhere  in 
quest  of  episcopal  ordination.  Kneeling  iu  the  chapel 
of  Icolmkill,  they  were  set  apart  by  the  laying  on  of 
the  hands  of  the  elders :  they  were  called  bishoptf,  but 
remained  obedient  to  the  eldei'  or  presbyter  of  lona. 
They  even  consecrated  other  bishops  :  thus  Finau  laid 
bauds  upon  Diuma,  bishop  of  Middlesex.  These  Bri- 
tisii  Christians  attached  great  importance  to  the  minis- 
try; but  not  to  one  form  in  preference  to  another. 
Presbytery  and  episcopacy  were  with  them,  as  with 
the  primitive  Church,  almost  identical.'  Somewhat 
later  we  find  that  neither  the  venerable  Bade,  nor  Lan- 
franc,  nor  Anselm — the  two  last  were  archbishops  of 
Canterbury — made  any  objection  to  the  ordination  of 

s  "Moreover,  it  was  always  the  custom  to  have  as  governor  in  that  island 
.an  abbot  who  is  a  presbyter,  to  whose  direction  the  entire  province  and  also 
the  bishops,  contrary  to  the  usual  method,  are  subject,  according  to  the 
example  of  their  first  teacher,  who  was  not  a  bishop,  but  a  presbyter  and 
mimk."—Beda,  Hist.  Eccl,  iii.,  cap.  iv. 

3  "A  presbyter,  accordingly,  is  the  same  as  a  bishop ;  and  before  that,  by 
a  suggestion  of  the  devil,  party  strife  entered  into  religion,  .  .  ,  the 
chinches  were  governed  by  a  common  council  of  presbyters.  Paul  spako 
wjtliuut  any  distinction  between  bishops  and  presbytere.  .  .  .  The 
bishops  know  that  it  is  to  custom,  rather  than  to  any  actual  direction  of  the 
Lord,  that  they  owe  their  superiority  to  presbyters." — Hkroiajmus  iul  Tititiiif 


CONTINENTAL  MISSIONS  OF  THE  BRITONS. 


6G3 


British  liisliops  liy  plain  presbyters.'  The  religious 
mill  iiionil  i-leineiit  tliat  boloii.ii.s  to  Christianity  still 
prciloniiimtiHl ;  the  snccnlotiil  element,  which  chiirac- 

or  I'lsewlierc,  w;is  ]ii-;;innin;,'  Id  .slicw  itself;  but  in  f;re:it 
Britain,  at  least,  it  held  a  very  subordinate  station. 
Christianity  was  still  a  religion,  ami  not  a  caste.  They 
did  not  reipiire  of  the  servant  of  God,  as  a  warrant  of 
his  capacity,  a  long  list  of  names  succeeding  one  another 
like  the  beads  of  a  rosary;  they  entertained  serious, 
noble,  and  holy  ideas  of  tlie  ministry;  its  authority 
proceeded  wholly  from  Jesus  Christ  its  head. 

The  missionary  fire,  which  the  grandson  of  Fergus 
had  kindled  in  a  solitary  islaud,  soon  spread  over  Giroat 
Britain.  Not  in  loiia  alone,  but  at  Bangor  and  other 
places,  the  spirit  of  evangelization  burst  out.  A  fond- 
ness for  travelling  had  already  become  a  second  nature 
in  this  people.'  Men  of  God,  burning  with  zeal,  re- 
solved to  carry  the  evangelical  torch  to  the  Continent — 
to  the  vast  wilderness  sprinkled  here  and  tliere  with 
barbarous  and  heathen  tribes.  They  did  not  set  forth 
as  antagonists  of  Rome,  for  at  that  epoch  there  was  no 
place  for  such  antagonism;  but  lona  and  Bangor,  less 
illustrious  than  Rome  in  the  history  of  nations,  pos- 
sessed a  more  lively  faith  than  the  city  of  the  Ca-sars ; 
and  that  faith — unerring  sign  of  the  presence  of  Jesus 
Christ — gave  those  whom  it  inspired  a  right  to  evan- 
gelize the  world,  which  Home  could  not  gainsay. 

The  missionary  bishops^  of  Britain  accordingly  set 
forth  and  traversed  the  Low  Countries,  Gaul,  Switzer- 
land, Germany,  and  even  Italy.*  The  free  church  of 
the  Scots  and  Britons  did  more  for  the  conversion  of 
central  Europe  than  the  half-enslaved  church  of  the 
Romans.  These  missionaries  were  not  haughty  and 
insolent,  like  the  priests  of  Italy;  but  supported  them- 
selves by  the  work  of  their  hands.  Columbanus,  (whom 
we  must  not  confound  with  Columba,)"  "feeling  in 
his  heart  the  burning  of  the  lire  which  the  Lord  had 
kindled  upon  earth,"  quitted  Bangor  in  5'JO,  with 
twelve  other  missionaries,  and  carried  the  Gospel  to 
the  Burgiuidians,  Fianks,  and  Swiss.  He  continued  to 
preach  it  amidst  frequent  persecutions,  left  his  disciple. 
Gall,  in  Helvetia,  and  retired  to  Bobbio,  where  he  died; 
honouring  Christian  Rome,  but  placing  the  church  of 
Jerusalem  above  it, — exhorting  it  to  beware  of  cor- 
ruption, and  declaring  that  the  power  would  remain 
with  it  so  long  only  as  it  retained  the  true  doctrine, 
(recla  mlio.)  Thus  was  Britain  faithful  in  planting  the 
standard  of  Christ  in  the  heart  of  Europe.  We  mi^ht 
almost  imagine  this  unknown  people  to  be  a  new  Israel, 
and  Icolmkill  and  Bangor  to  have  inherited  the  virtues 
of  Ziou. 

1  Bishop  Mimtcr  Diakes  tliis  remark  in  his  dissertation  "On  Hie  Ancient 
Britisli  Cliurch,"  about  the  primitive  identity  of  bishops  and  priests,  and 
episcopal  consecration. 

a  "Tlie  nation  of  tho  Scots,  in  whom  the  habit  of  travelling  abroad  had 
already  .almost  become  a  second  nature."— Kfla  S.  GoHi,  sec.  47. 

3  Tlicy  were  called  tpiscopi  ngionarii,  because  they  had  no  settled  diocese. 

<  "  In  ancient  times  tlio  most  learned  teachers  were  accustomed  to  come 
from  Ireland  to  Britain,  Gaul,  and  lUily,  and  to  make  numerous  journeys 
among  the  clmrclies  of  Christ"— .Jlcuin,  Epp.  ccxxi. 

5  Tliicrrj',  in  his  "  Hist,  de  la  Conquete  de  1'  Anglcterrc,"  makes  Columba 
and  Columbanus  one  pereonage.  ColumlM  preached  the  Gospel  in  Scotland 
about  SCO,  and  <Ucd  in  597;  Columb.-inus  pre-ichcd  among  the 
iu  000,  and  died  in  015. 


Yet  they  should  have  done  more  :  they  should  have 
preached — not  only  to  the  continental  heathens,  to 
those  in  the  north  of  Scotland  and  the  distant  Ireland, 
liiit  also  to  the  still  pagan  Saxons  of  England.  It  is 
true  that  they  made  several  atleinpts;  but  while  the 
Britons  considered  their  conijuerors  as  the  enemies  of 
God  and  man,  and  shuddered  while  they  pronounced 
their  name,  the  Saxons  refused  to  be  converted  by  the 
voice  of  their  slaves.  By  neglecting  this  field,  the 
Britons  left  room  for  other  workmen,  and  thus  it  was 
that  England  yielded  to  a  foreign  power,  beneath 
whose  heavy  yoke  it  long  groaned  in  vain. 


CHAPTER  IL 

P.jpc  Gregory  the  Great— Desires  to  reduce  Britain— Pulicy  of  Gregoiy  and 
Augustine — An'ival  of  the  Mission— Appreciation — Britain  superior  to 
Home— Dionoth  at  B.ingor— First  and  Second  Komish  Aggressions- 
Anguish  of  the  Britons— Pride  of  Rome- Rome  has  recourse  to  the 
Sword — Massacre — Saint  Peter  Scourges  an  Archbishop— Oswald— His 
Victory— Connan— Mission  of  Oswald  and  Aidan— Death  of  Oswald. 

It  is  matter  of  fact  that  the  si)iritual  life  had  waned  in 
Italian  Catholicism;  and  in  proportion  as  the  heavenly 
spirit  had  become  weak,  the  lust  of  dominion  had  grown 
strong.  The  Roman  metropolitans  and  their  delegates 
soon  became  impatient  to  mould  all  Christendom  to 
their  peculiar  forms. 

About  the  end  of  the  sixth  century  an  eminent  inau 
filled  the  see  of  Rome.    Gregory  was  born  of  senatorial 
family,  and  already  ou  the  high  road  to  honour,  when 
he  suddenly  renounced  the  world,  and  transformed  the     | 
palace  of  his  fathers  into  a  convent.     But  his  ambition     j 
had  only  changed  its  object.     In  his  views,  the  whole 
Church  should  submit  to  the  ecclesiastical  jurisdiction 
of  Rome.    True,  he  rejected  tlie  title  of  uiiivt-iva/  hi<Iiop,     \ 
assumed  by  the  patriarch  of  Constantinople ;  but  if  he 
desired  not  the  name,  he  was  not  the  less  eager  for  the 
substance."     Ou  the  borders  of  the  West,  in  the  island 
of  Great  Britain,  was  a  Christian  church  independent 
of  Rome :  this  must  be  conquered,  and  a  favourable 
opportunity  soon  occurred. 

Before  his  elevation  to  the  primacy,  and  while  ho 
was  as  yet  only  the  monk  Gregory,  he  chanced  one 
day  to  cross  a  market  iu  Rome  where  certain  foreign 
dealers  were  exposing  their  wares  for  sale.  Among 
them  he  perceived  some  fair-haired  youthful  slaves, 
whose  noble  bearing  attracted  his  attention.  On  draw- 
ing near  them,  he  learned  that  the  Anglo-Saxon  nation, 
to  which  they  belonged,  had  refused  to  received  the  | 
Gospel  from  the  Britons.  "When  he  afterwards  be-  I 
came  bishop  of  Rome,  this  crafty  and  energetic  pontiff, 
"  the  last  of  the  good  and  the  first  of  the  bad,"  as  he 
has  been  called,  determined  to  convert  these  proud 
conquerors,  and  make  use  of  them  in  subduing  the 
British  church  to  the  papacy,  as  he  had  already  made 
use  of  the  Frank  monarchs  to  reduce  the  Gauls. 
Rome  has  often  shewn  herself  more  eager  to  bring 

a  He  says,  (Ei>p.,  lib.  ix.,  ep.  xii. :)  "  Concerning  the  church  of  Constan- 
tinople, who  doubts  that  it  is  subject  to  the  apostolical  sec*" 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


Christians  rather  than  idolaters  to  the  pope.*  Was  it 
thus  with  Gregory'  We  must  leave  the  question  uu- 
answored. 

Eilielbert,  king  of  Kent,  having  married  a  Christian 
princess  of  Frank  descent,  the  Roman  bishop  thought 
the  conjuncture  favourable  for  his  design,  and  de- 
spatched a  mission  under  the  direction  of  one  of  his 
friends,  named  Augustine,  a.d.  59G  At  first  the  mis- 
sionaries recoiled  from  the  task  appointed  them  ;  but 
Gregory  was  firm.  Desirous  of  gaining  the  assistance 
of  the  Frank  kings,  Theodoric  and  Theodebert,  he 
affected  to  consider  them  as  the  lords  paramount  of 
England,  and  commended  to  them  the  conversion  of 
their  suhjects.  Nor  was  this  all.  He  claimed  also  the 
support  of  the  powerful  Brunehilda,  grandmother  of 
these  two  kings,  and  equally  notorious  for  her  treachery, 
her  irregularities,  and  her  crimes  ;  and  did  not  scruple 
to  extol  the  (jood  worlcs  and  goclhj  fear  of  this  modern 
Jezebel.  Under  such  auspices  the  Romish  mission 
arrived  in  England.      The  pope  had  made  a  skilful 


choice  of  his  delegate.  Augustine  posse'-«ed,  even  to  a 
greater  extent  than  Gregory  himself,  a  mixture  of  am- 
bition and  devotedness,  of  superstition  and  piety,  of 
cunning  and  zeal.  He  thought  that  faith  and  holiness 
were  less  essential  to  the  Church  than  authority  and 
power;  and  that  its  prerogative  was  not  so  much  to 
save  souls  as  to  collect  all  the  human  race  under  the 
sceptre  of  Rome.*  Gregory  himself  was  distressed  at 
Augustine's  spiritual  pride,  and  often  exhorted  him  to 
humility. 

Success  of  that  kind  which  Popery  desires  soon 
crowned  the  labours  of  its  servants.  The  forty-one 
missionaries  having  landed  in  the  isle  of  Thanet,  in  the 
year  597,  the  King  of  Kent  consented  to  receive  them, 
but  in  the  open  air,  for  fear  of  magic.  They  drew  up 
in  such  a  manner  as  to  produce  an  effect  on  the  rude 
islanders.  The  procession  was  opened  by  a  monk 
bearing  a  huge  cross,  on  which  the  figure  of  Christ 

1  We  know  the  histoiy  of  Taliiti,  and  of  other  motleni  missions  of  the 
Romish  Chui-ch. 

•  We  find  the  same  idea  in  Wiseman,  Lect  ix.,  "  On  the  principal  doc- 
trines and  practices  of  the  Catholic  Church."    London,  1836. 


was  represented :  his  colleagues  followed,  chanting  their 
Latin  hymns ;  and  thus  they  approached  the  oak  ap- 
pointed for  the  place  of  conference.  They  inspired 
sufficient  confidence  in  Ethelbert  to  gain  permission  to 
celebrate  their  worship  in  an  old  ruinous  chapel  at 
Durovern,  (Canterbury,)  where  British  Ciiristians 
had  in  former  times  adored  the  Saviour  Christ.  The 
king  and  thousands  of  his  subjects  received  not  long 
after,  with  certain  forms,  and  certain  Christian  doc- 
trines, the  errors  of  the  Roman  pontiffs — as  purgatory, 
for  instance,  which  Gregory  was  advocating  with  the 
aid  of  the  most  absurd  fables.  Augustine  baptized  ten 
thousand  pagans  in  one  day.  As  yet  Rome  had  only 
set  her  foot  in  Great  Britain,  she  did  not  fail  erelong 
to  establish  her  kingdom  there. 

We  should  be  unwilling  to  undervalue  the  religious 
element  now  placed  before  the  Anglo-Saxons,  and  we 
can  readily  believe  that  many  of  the  missionaries  sent 
from  Italy  desired  to  work  a  Christian  work.  We 
think,  too,  that  the  Middle  Ages  ought  to  be  appre- 
ciated with  more  equitable 
sentiments  than  have  always 
been  found  in  the  persons  who 
have  written  on  that  period 
Man's  conscience  lived,  spoke, 
and  groaned,  during  the  long 
dominion  of  Popery;  and  like 
a  plant  growing  among  thorns, 
it  often  succeeded  in  forcing  a 
])assage  through  the  obstacles 
of  traditioualisiu  and  hierar- 
chy, to  blossom  in  the  quick- 
tiiiug  sun  of  God's  grace. 
The  Christian  element  is  even 
strongly  marked  in  some  of  the 
most  eminent  men  of  the  tiieo- 
cracy — in  Anselm,  for  instance. 
Yet  as  it  is  our  task  to  re- 
late the  history  of  the  struggles 
which  took  place  between  pri- 
mitive Christianity  and  Roman 
Catholicism,  we  cannot  for- 
bear pointing  out  the  superiority  of  the  former  in  a 
religious  light,  while  we  acknowledge  the  superiority  of 
the  latter  in  a  political  point  of  view.  We  believe 
(and  we  shall  presently  have  a  proof  of  it)  that  a  visit 
to  lona  would  have  taught  the  Anglo-Saxons  much 
more  than  their  frequent  pilgrimages  to  the  banks  of 
the  Tiber.  Doubtless,  as  has  been  remarked,  these 
pilgrims  contemplated  at  Rome  "  the  noble  monuments 
of  antiquity,"  but  there  existed  at  that  time  in  the  Bri- 
tish islands— and  it  has  been  too  often  overlooked — a 
Christianity  ^vhich,  if  not  perfectly  pure,  was  at  least 
better  than  that  of  Popery.  The  British  Church, 
which  at  the  beginning  of  the  seveuth  century  carried 
faith  and  civilization  into  Burgundy,  the  Vosges  moun- 
tains, and  Switzerland,  might  well  have  spread  them 
both  over  Britain.  The  influence  of  the  arts,  whose 
civilizing  influence  we  are  far  from  depreciating,  would 
have  come  later. 

But  so  far  was  the  Christianity  of  the  Britons  from 
converting  the  Saxon  heptarchy,  that  it  was,  alas!  the 
Romanism  of  the  heptarchy  which  was  destined  to  con- 
quer Britain.    These  struggles  between  the  Roman  and 


FIRST  AND  SECOND  ROISIISH  AGGRESSION. 


Uritish  churches,  which  fill  all  the  seventh  century,  are 
of  the  highest  importance  to  the  English  Ciiurch,  for 
they  establish  clearly  its  primitive  liberty.  They  pos- 
sess also  great  interest  for  the  other  churches  of  the 
AVcst,  as  sliewing  in  the  most  striking  characters  the 
usurping  acts  by  which  the  papacy  eventually  reduced 
them  beneath  its  yoke. 

Augustine,  appointed  archbishop  not  only  of  the 
Saxons,  but  of  the  free  Britons,  was  settled  by  papal 
ordinance,  first  at  London,  and  afterwards  at  Canter- 
bury. Being  at  the  head  of  a  hierarchy  composed  of 
twelve  bishops,  he  soon  attempted  to  bring  all  the 
Christians  of  Britain  under  the  Roman  jurisdiction. 
At  that  time  there  existed  at  Bangor,  in  Nortli  Wales, 
a  large  Christian  society,  amounting  to  nearly  three 
thousand  individuals,  collected  togetiier  to  work  with 
their  own  hands,  to  study,  and  to  pray,  and  from 
whose  bosom  numerous  missionaries  (Columbanns  was 
among  the  number)  had  from  time  to  time  gone  forth. 
The  president  of  this  church  was  Dionoth,  a  faithful 
teacher,  ready  to  serve  all  men  in  charity,  yet  firmly 
convinced  that  no  one  should  have  supremacy  in  the 
Lord's  vineyard.  Although  one  of  the  most  influential 
men  in  the  British  Church,  he  was  somewhat  timid 
and  hesitating ;  he  would  yield  to  a  certain  point  for 
the  love  of  peace;  but  would  never  flinch  from  his 
duty.  He  was  another  apostle  John,  full  of  mildness, 
and  yet  condemning  the  Diotrephes,  xrho  love  to  have 
pre-eminence  amonj  tlie  brethren.  Augustine  thus  ad- 
dressed him :  "  Acknowledge  the  authority  of  the 
Bishop  of  Rome."  These  are  the  first  words  of  the 
Papacy  to  the  ancient  Christians  of  Britain.  "  "We 
desire  to  love  all  men,"  meekly  replied  the  vener- 
able Briton ;  "  and  what  we  do  for  you,  we  will  do 
for  him  also  whom  you  call  the  pope.  But  he  is  not 
[  entitled  to  call  himself  the  father  of  fathers ;  and 
I  the  only  submission  we  can  render  him  is  that  wliich 
we  owe  to  every  Christian."  This  was  not  what 
Augustine  asked. 

He  was  not  discouraged  by  this  first  check.  Proud 
of  the  pallium  which  Rome  liad  sent  him,  and  relying 
on  the  swords  of  the  Anglo-Saxons,  he  convoked,  in 
601,  a  general  assembly  of  British  and  vSaxon  bisliops. 
The  meeting  took  place  in  the  open  air,  beneath  a 
venerable  oak,  near  Wigornia,  (Worcester  or  Here- 
ford ;)  and  here  occurred  the  second  Romish  aggression. 
Dionoth  resisted  with  firmness  the  extravagant  pre- 
tensions of  Augustine,  who  again  summoned  him  to 
recognise  the  authority '  of  Rome.  Another  Briton 
protested  against  the  presumption  of  the  Romaus,  wlio 
ascribed  to  their  consecration  a  virtue  which  they 
refused  to  that  of  loua  or  of  the  Asiatic  churches. 
"  The  Britons,"  exclaimed  a  third,  "  canuot  submit 
either  to  the  haughtiness  of  the  Romans  or  the  tyranny 
of  the  Saxous."  To  no  purpose  did  the  archbishop 
lavish  his  arguments,  prayers,  censures,  and  miracles 
even  ;  the  Britons  were  firm.  Some  of  them  who  had 
eaten  with  the  Saxons  while  they  were  as  yet  heathens, 
refused  to  do  so  now  that  they  had  submitted  to  the 
pope.  Tiie  Scotch  were  particularly  inflexible ;  for  one 
of  their  number,  by  name  Dagam,  would  not  only  take 
no  food  at  the  same  table  with  the  Romaus,  but  not  even 
luuler  the  same  roof.  Thus  did  Augustine  fail  a  second 
time,  and  the  independence  of  Britain  appeared  secure. 


And  yet  the  formidable  power  of  the  popes,  aided  by 
the  sword  of  the  conrpiorors,  alarmed  the  Britons. 
They  imagined  they  saw  a  mysterious  decree  once 
more  yoking  the  nations  of  the  earth  to  the  triumphal 
car  of  Rome,  and  many  left  Wigornia  unesisy  and  sad 
at  Iieart.  How  is  it  possible  to  save  a  cause,  when 
even  its  defenders  begin  to  despair?  It  was  not  long 
before  they  were  summoned  to  a  new  council.  "What 
is  to  be  done?"  they  exclaimed  with  sorrowful  fore- 
bodings. Popery  was  not  yet  thoroughly  known :  it 
was  hardly  formed.  The  half -enlightened  consciences 
of  these  believers  were  a  prey  to  the  most  violent  agita- 
tion. They  asked  themselves  whether,  in  rejecting 
this  new  power,  they  might  not  be  rejecting  God  him- 
self. A  pious  Christian,  who  led  a  solitary  life,  had 
acquired  a  groat  reputation  in  the  surrounding  district. 
Some  of  the  Britons  visited  him,  and  inquired  whether 
they  should  resist  Augustine  or  follow  him.  "  If  he  is 
a  man  of  God,  follow  him,"  replied  the  hermit.  "And 
how  shall  wc  know  that .' " — "If  he  is  meek  and  humble 
of  heart,  he  bears  Christ's  yoke;  but  if  he  is  violent 
and  proud  he  is  not  of  God."  "What  sign  shall  we 
have  of  his  humility?" — "If  he  rises  from  his  seat 
when  you  enter  the  room."  Thus  spoke  the  oracle  of  I 
Britain :  it  would  have  been  better  to  have  consulted  | 
the  Holy  Scriptures.  j 

But  humility  is  not  a  virtue  that  flourishes  among  1 
Romish  pontiffs  and  legates:  they  love  to  remain  ! 
seated  while  others  court  and  worship  them.  The  I 
British  bishops  entered  the  council-hall,  and  the  arch- 
bishop, desirous  of  indicating  his  superiority,  proudly 
kept  his  seat.  Astonished  at  this  sight,  the  Britons 
would  hear  no  more  of  the  authority  of  Rome.  For 
the  third  time  they  said  No — they  know  no  other  master 
but  Christ.  Augustine,  who  expected  to  see  these 
bishops  prostrate  their  churches  at  his  feet,  was  sur- 
prised and  indignant.  He  had  reckoned  on  the  im- 
mediate submission  of  Britain,  and  the  pope  had  now 
to  learn  that  his  missionary  had  deceived  him.  .  .  . 
Animated  by  that  insolent  spirit  which  is  found  too 
often  in  the  ministers  of  the  Romish  Church,  Augustine 
exclaimed:  "If  you  will  not  receive  brethren  who 
bring  you  peace,  you  shall  receive  enemies  who  will 
bring  you  war.  If  you  will  not  unite  with  us  in  shew- 
ing the  Saxons  the  way  of  life,  you  shall  receive  from 
them  the  stroke  of  death."  Having  thus  spoken,  the 
haughty  archbishop  withdrew,  and  occupied  his  last 
days  in  preparing  the  accomplishment  of  his  ill- 
omened  prophecy.  Argument  had  failed  :  now  for  the 
sword. 

Shortly  after  the  death  of  Augustine,  Edelfrid,  one 
of  the  Anglo-Saxon  kings,  and  who  was  still  a  heathen, 
collected  a  numerous  army,  and  advanced  towards 
Bangor,  the  centre  of  British  Christianity.  Alarm 
spread  through  those  feeble  churches.  They  wept  and 
prayed.  The  sword  of  Edelfrid  drew  nearer.  To 
whom  can  they  apply,  or  where  shall  they  find  help? 
The  magnitude  of  the  danger  seemed  to  recall  the 
Britons  to  their  pristine  piety:  not  to  men,  but  to  the 
Lord  himself  will  they  turn  their  thoughts.  Twelve 
hundred  and  fifty  servants  of  the  living  God,  calling  to 
mind  what  are  the  arras  of  Christian  warfare,  after 
preparing  themselves  by  fasting,  met  together  in  a 
retired   spot  to  send   up   their   prayers  to   God.     A 


5G6 


HISTORY  OP  THE  REFORMATION. 


British  chief,  named  Brocmail,  moved  by  tender 
compassion,  stationed  himself  near  tliem  witli  a  few 
soldiers;  but  the  cruel  Edelfrid,  observing  from  a 
distance  this  band  of  kueeliug  Christians,  demanded: 
'•Who  are  these  people,  and  what  are  they  doing?" 
On  being  informed,  he  added:  "They  are  fighting, 
then,  against  us,  although  unarmed;"  and  immediately 
he  ordered  liis  soldiers  to  fall  upon  the  prostrate  crowd. 
Twelve  hundred  of  tlicm  were  slain.  They  prayed 
and  they  died.  The  Saxons  forthwith  proceeded  to 
Bangor,  the  chief  seat  of  Christian  learning,  and  razed 
it  to  tlie  ground.  Romanism  was  triumphant  in 
England.  Tlie  news  of  these  massacres  tilled  the 
country  inth  ivceping  caul  great  mourning;  but  the 
priests  of  Ilomish  consecration  (and  the  venerable 
Bedo  shared  their  sentiments)  beheld  in  this  cruel 
slaughter  the  accomplishment  of  the  prophecy  of  the 
/lol^  pontiff  Augustine ;  and  a  national  tradition  among 
the  Welsh  for  many  ages  pointed  to  him  as  the  insti- 
gator of  this  cowardly  butchery.  Thus  did  Rome  loose 
the  savage  Pagan  against  the  primitive  Church  of 
Britain,  and  fastened  it,  all  dripping  with  blood,  to  her 
triumphal  car.  A  great  mystery  of  iniquity  was  ac- 
complishing. 

But  while  the  Saxon  sword  appeared  to  have  swept 
everything  from  before  the  papacy,  the  ground  trem- 
bled imder  its  feet,  and  seemed  about  to  swallow  it 
up.  The  hierarchical  ratlier  than  Christian  conversions 
effected  by  the  priests  of  Rome  were  so  unreal  that  a 
vast  number  of  neophytes  suddenly  returned  to  the 
worship  of  their  idols.  Eadbald,  king  of  Kent,  was 
himself  among  the  number  of  apostates.  Such  i-ever- 
sious  to  paganism  are  not  unfrequent  in  the  history  of 
the  Romish  missions.  The  bishops  fled  into  Gaul: 
Mellitus  and  Justus  had  already  reached  the  continent 
in  safety,  and  Lawrence,  Augustine's  successor,  was 
about  to  follow  them.  While  lying  in  the  church 
where  he  had  desired  to  pass  the  night  before  leaving 
England,  he  groaned  in  spirit  as  he  saw  the  work 
founded  by  Augustine  perishing  in  his  hands.  He 
saved  it  by  a  miracle.  The  next  morning  he  presented 
himself  before  the  king  with  his  clothes  all  disordered 
and  his  body  covered  with  wounds.  "Saint  Peter," 
he  said,  "appeared  to  me  during  the  night  and  scourged 
me  severely  because  I  was  about  to  forsake  his  flock." 
Tlie  scourge  was  a  means  of  moral  persuasion  which 
Peter  had  forgotten  in  his  epistles.  Did  Lawrence 
cause  these  blows  to  be  inflicted  by  others — or  did  he 
inflict  them  himself — or  is  the  whole  account  an  idle 
dream?  We  should  prefer  adopting  the  latter  hy- 
pothesis. The  superstitious  prince,  excited  at  the 
news  of  this  supernatural  intervention,  eagerly  acknow- 
ledged the  authority  of  the  pope,  the  vicar  of  an  apostle 
who  so  mercilessly  scourged  those  who  had  the  mis- 
fortune to  displease  him.  If  the  dominion  of  Rome 
had  then  disappeared  from  England,  it  is  probable 
that  the  Britons,  regaining  their  courage,  and  favoured 
in  other  respects  by  the  wants  which  would  have  been 
felt  by  the  Saxons,  would  have  recovered  from  their 
defeat,  and  would  have  imparted  their  free  Chris- 
tianity to  their  conquerors.  But  now  the  Roman 
bishop  seemed  to  remain  master  of  England,  and  the 
faith  of  the  Britons  to  be  crushed  for  ever.  B>it  it 
was  not  so.     A  young  man,  sprung  from  the  energetic 


race  of  the  conquerors,  was  about  to  become  the  cham- 
pion of  truth  and  liberty,  and  .almost  the  whole  island 
to  be  freed  from  the  Roman  yoke. 

Oswald,  an  Anglo-Saxon  prince,  son  of  the  heathen 
and  cruel  Edelfrid,  had  been  compelled  by  family 
reverses  to  take  refuge  in  Scotland,  when  very  young, 
accompanied  by  his  brother  Oswy  and  several  other 
youthful  chiefs.  He  had  acquired  the  language  of  the 
country,  been  instructed  in  the  truths  of  Holy  Writ, 
converted  by  the  grace  of  God,  and  baptized  into  the 
Scottish  Church.  He  loved  to  sit  at  the  feet  of  the 
elders  of  lona  and  listen  to  their  words.  They  shewed 
him  Jesus  Christ  going  from  place  to  place  doing  good, 
and  he  desired  to  do  so  likewise ;  they  told  him  that 
Christ  was  the  only  head  of  the  Chiu'ch,  and  he  pro- 
mised never  to  acknowledge  any  other.  Being  a 
single-hearted  generous  man,  he  was  especially  ani- 
mated with  tender  compassion  towards  the  poor,  and 
would  take  off  his  own  cloak  to  cover  the  nakedness  of 
one  of  his  brethren.  Often,  while  mingling  in  the 
quiet  assemblies  of  the  Scottish  Christians,  he  had 
desired  to  go  as  a  missionary  to  the  Anglo-Saxons. 
It  w.as  not  long  before  he  conceived  the  bold  design  of 
leading  the  people  of  Northumberland  to  the  Saviour; 
but  being  a  prince  as  well  as  a  Christian,  he  deter- 
mined to  begin  by  reconquering  the  throne  of  his 
fathers.  There  was  in  this  young  Englishman  the 
love  of  a  disciple  and  the  courage  of  a  hero.  At 
the  head  of  an  army — small  indeed,  but  strong  by 
faith  in  Christ — he  entered  Northumberland,  knelt 
with  his  troops  in  prayer  on  the  held  of  battle,  and 
gained  a  signal  victory  over  a  powerful  enemy,  634  a.d. 

To  recover  the  kingdom  of  his  ancestors  was  only  a 
part  of  his  task.  Oswald  desired  to  give  his  people  the 
benefits  of  the  true  faith.  The  Christianity  taught  iu 
025  to  King  Edwin  and  the  Northumbrians  by  Pendin 
of  York  had  disappeared  amidst  tlie  ravages  of  the 
pagan  armies.  Oswald  requested  a  missionary  from 
the  Scots  who  had  given  him  an  asylum,  and  they 
accordingly  sent  one  of  the  brethren  named  Cormau,  a 
pious  but  uncultivated  and  austere  man.  He  soon 
returned  dispirited  to  loua :  "  The  people  to  whom 
you  sent  me,"  he  told  the  elders  of  that  island,  "  are 
so  obstinate  tli.at  we  must  renounce  all  idea  of  chang- 
ing their  manners."  As  Aidan,  one  of  their  number, 
listened  to  this  report,  he  said  to  himself:  "If  thy  love 
had  been  offered  to  this  people,  oh,  my  Saviour,  many 
hearts  would  have  been  touched !  .  .  .  I  will  go 
and  make  thee  known — tliee  who  breaketh  not  the 
bruised  reed."  Then,  turning  to  the  missionary  with  a 
look  of  mild  repi-oach,  he  added:  "Brother,  you  have 
been  too  severe  towards  hearers  so  dull  of  heart.  You 
should  have  given  them  spiritual  milk  to  drink  until 
they  were  able  to  receive  more  solid  food."  All  eyes 
were  fixed  on  the  man  who  spoke  so  wisely.  "Aidan 
is  worthy  of  the  episcopate,"  exclaimed  the  brethren  of 
Zona ;  and,  like  Timotliy,  he  was  consecrated  by  the 
laying  on  of  the  hands  of  the  company  of  elders.' 

Oswald  received  Aidan  as  an  angel  from  heaven;  and 
as  the  missionary  was  ignorant  of  the  Saxon  language, 

1  "  Aiilau  liavmg  received  the  dignity  of  a  bishop  at  tlie  time  wlien  Sego- 
iiiiis,  aljliot  and  presbyter,  presided  over  that  monastery." — Beda,lih.  iii,, 
cap.  V.  VTiieu  Bede  tells  us  that  a  plain  priest  was  president,  he  excludes 
the  idea  that  there  were  hishops  in  the  assembly.    See  1  Timothy  iv.  14. 


DEATH  OF  OSWALD. 


567 


tlie  king  nccompanicd  him  evcrjnvherc,  standing  by  his 
side,  and  interpreting  his  gentle  discourses.  The  people 
crowded  joyfully  around  Oswald,  Aidan,  and  other 
missionaries  from  Scotland  and  Ireland,  listening  eagerly 
to  the  Word  of  God.  The  king  preached  by  his  works 
still  more  than  by  his  words.  One  day  during  Eiister, 
as  lie  was  about  to  take  his  seat  at  table,  he  was  in- 
formed that  a  crowd  of  his  subjects,  driven  by  hunger, 
had  collected  before  his  palace  gates.  Instantly  he 
ordered  the  food  prepared  for  himself  to  be  carried  out 
and  distributed  among  them ;  and  taking  the  silver 
vessels  which  stood  before  him,  he  broke  them  in 
pieces,  and  commanded  his  servants  to  divide  them 
among  the  poor.  He  also  introduced  the  knowledge  of 
the  Saviour  to  the  people  of  Wessex,  whither  he  had 
gone  to  marry  the  king's  daughter ;  and  after  a  reign 
of  nine  years,  he  died  at  the  head  of  his  army  while 
repelling  an  invasion  of  the  idolatrous  Mercians,  headed 
by  the  cruel  Penda,  (5th  August,  G42  a.d.)  As  he 
fell  he  exclaimed :  "  Lord,  have  mercy  on  the  souls  of 
my  people !"  This  youthful  prince  has  left  a  name 
dear  to  the  churches  of  Great  IJritain. 

His  death  did  not  interrupt  the  labours  of  the  mis- 
sionaries. Their  meekness  and  the  recollection  of 
Oswald  endeared  them  to  all.  As  soon  as  the  vil- 
lagers caught  sight  of  one  on  the  high-road,  they 
woidd  throng  round  him,  begging  him  to  teach  them 
the  Word  of  life.  The  faith  which  the  terrible  Edel- 
frid  thought  he  had  washed  away  in  the  blood  of  the 
worshippers  of  God,  was  re-appearing  in  every  direc- 
tion ;  and  Rome,  which  once  already,  in  the  days  of 
Honorius,  had  been  forced  to  leave  Britain,  might  be, 
jicrhaps,  a  second  time  compelled  to  flee  to  its  ships 
from  before  the  face  of  a  people  who  asserted  their 
liberty. 


CHAPTER  HI. 

Cliarai-ter  of  Oswy— DiMtli  of  .\id.aii— Wilfrid  at  Rome— At  Oswald's  Coiirtr- 
Fiuan  and  Colman— Indciiendence  of  the  Chm-cli  Attiicked— Oswj's 
Conquests  and  Troubles— 5y»odiw  Pliarcnsis — Cedda— Degeneration — 
The  Disputation— Peter,  the  Gatekeeper— Triunii*  of  Rome— Grief  of 
tlic  Britons— Popedom  Organized  in  England— Papal  Exultation— An.li- 
bisliopTlicodore- Ccddare-ordained- Discord  in  the  Church— Disi,'r;i'-e 
and  Treachery  of  Wilfrid— His  End— Scotland  Attacked— Artanman— 
lona  Resists— A  King  Converted  by  Architects— The  Monk  Egbert  at 
lona— His  Histoiy— Monkish  Visions— Fall  of  lona. 

Then  up  rose  the  Papacy.  If  victory  remained  with 
the  Britons,  their  church,  becoming  entirely  free,  might 
even  in  these  early  times  head  a  strong  opposition 
against  the  papal  monarchy.  If,  on  the  contrary,  the 
last  champions  of  liberty  are  defeated,  centuries  of 
slavery  awaited  the  Christian  Church.  We  shall  have 
to  witness  the  struggle  that  took  place  erelong  in  the 
very  palace  of  the  Northumbrian  kings. 

Oswald  was  succeeded  by  his  brother  Oswy,  a  prince 
instructed  in  the  free  doctrine  of  the  Britons,  but  whose 
religion  was  all  external.  His  heart  overflowed  with 
ambition,  and  he  shrank  from  no  crime  that  might  in- 
crease his  power.  The  throne  of  Dcira  was  filled  by 
his  relative,  Oswin,  an  amiable  king,  much  beloved  by 


his  people.  Oswy,  conceiving  a  deadly  jealousy  to- 
wards him,  marched  against  him  at  the  head  of  an 
army,  aud  Oswin,  desirous  of  avoiding  bloodshed,  took 
shelter  with  a  chief  whom  he  had  loaded  with  favom-s. 
But  the  latter  offered  to  lead  Oswy's  soldiers  to  his 
hidiug-place,  and  at  dead  of  night  the  fugitive  king 
was  basely  assassinated,  one  only  of  his  servants  fight- 
ing in  his  defence.  The  geutle  Aidan  died  of  sor- 
row at  his  cruel  fate.  Such  was  the  first  exploit  of 
that  monarch  who  surrendered  England  to  the  Papacy. 
Various  circumstances  tended  to  draw  Oswy  nearer 
Rome.  He  looked  upon  the  Christian  religion  as  a 
means  of  combining  the  Christian  princes  against  the 
heathen  Penda ;  and  such  a  religion,  in  which  expe- 
diency predominated,  was  not  very  unlike  Popery. 
And  further,  Oswy's  wife,  the  proud  Eanfeld,  was  of 
the  Romish  communion.  The  private  chaplain  of  this 
bigoted  princess  was  a  priest  named  Eomanus,  a  man 
worthy  of  the  name.  He  zealously  maintained  the 
rites  of  the  Latin  Chiuxh,  and  accordingly  the  festival 
of  Easter  was  celebrated  at  court  twice  in  the  year; 
for  while  the  king,  following  the  Eastern  rule,  was 
joyfully  commemorating  the  i-esurrection  of  our  Lord, 
the  queen,  who  adopted  the  Roman  i-itual,  was  keeping 
Palm  Sunday  with  fasting  and  humiliation.  Eanfeld 
aud  Romanus  would  often  converse  together  on  the 
means  of  winning  over  Northumberland  to  the  Papacy. 
But  the  first  step  was  to  increase  the  number  of  its 
partisans,  and  the  opportunity  soon  occurred. 

A  young  Northumbrian,  named  Wilfrid,  was  one 
day  admitted  to  an  audience  of  the  queen.  He  was  a 
comely  man,  of  extensive  knowledge,  keen  wit,  aud 
enterprising  character,  of  indefatigable  activity,  and 
insatiable  ambition.  In  this  interview  he  remarked  to 
Eanfeld :  "  The  way  which  the  Scotch  teach  us  is  not 
perfect;  I  will  go  to  Rome  and  learn  in  the  very 
temples  of  the  apostles."  She  approved  of  his  project, 
aud  with  her  assistance  and  directions  he  set  out  for 
Italy.  Alas!  he  was  destined,  at  uo  very  distant  day, 
to  chain  the  whole  British  Church  to  the  Roman  see. 
After  a  short  stay  at  Lyons,  where  the  bishop,  de- 
lighted at  his  talents,  would  have  desired  to  keep  him, 
he  arrived  at  Rome,  and  immediately  became  on  the 
most  friendly  footing  with  archdeacon  Boniface,  the 
pope's  favourite  councillor.  He  soon  discovered  that 
the  priests  of  France  aud  Italy  possessed  more  power, 
both  in  ecclesiastical  and  secular  matters,  than  the 
humble  missionaries  of  lona;  and  his  thirst  for  honours 
was  inflamed  at  the  court  of  the  pontiifs.  If  he  should 
succeed  in  making  England  submit  to  the  Papacy, 
there  was  no  dignity  to  which  he  might  not  aspire. 
Henceforward  this  was  his  only  thought,  and  he  had 
hardly  returned  to  Northumberland  before  Eanfeld 
eagerly  summoned  him  to  court.  A  fanatical  queen, 
from  whom  he  might  hope  everything — a  king  with  no 
religious  convictions,  and  enslaved  by  political  interests 
— a  pious  aud  zealous  prince,  Alfred,  the  king's  son, 
who  was  desirous  of  imitating  his  noble  uncle  (Oswald, 
and  converting  the  pagans,  but  who  had  neither  the 
discernment  nor  the  piety  of  the  illustrious  disciple  of 
lona;  such  were  the  materials  Wilfrid  had  to  work 
upon.  He  saw  clearly  that  if  Rome  had  gained  her 
first  victory  by  the  sword  of  Edelfrid,  she  could  only 
expect  to  gain  a  second  by  craft  aud  management. 


568 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


He  came  to  an  understanding  on  the  subject  with  the 
queen  and  Eomanus,  and  having  been  placed  about  the 
person  of  the  young  prince,  by  adroit  flattery  he  soon 
gained  over  Alfred's  mind.  Then  finding  himself 
secure  of  two  members  of  the  royal  family,  he  turned 
all  his  attention  to  Oswy. 

The  elders  of  lona  could  not  shut  their  eyes  to  the 
dangers  which  threatened  Northumberland.  They  had 
sent  Finan  to  supply  Aidau's  place,  and  this  bishop, 
consecrated  by  the  jiresbytcrs  of  lona,  had  witnessed 
the  progress  of  Popery  at  the  court ;  at  first  humble 
and  inoffensive,  and  then  increasing  year  by  year  in 
ambition  and  audacity.  He  had  openly  opposed  the 
pontiff's  agents,  and  his  frequent  contests  had  con- 
firmed him  in  the  truth.  He  was  dead,  and  the 
presbyters  of  the  Western  Isles,  seeing  more  clearly 
than  ever  the  wants  of  Northumbria,  had  sent  thither 
Bishop  Colman,  a  simple-minded,  but  stout-hearted 
man, — one  determined  to  oppose  a  front  of  adamant 
to  the  wiles  of  the  seducers. 

Yet  Eanfeld,  Wilfrid,  and  Eomanus  were  skilfully 

I  digging  the  mine  that  was  to  destroy  the  apostolic 
Church  of  Britain.  At  first  Wilfrid  prepared  his 
attack  by  adroit  insinuations ;  and  next  declared  him- 
self openly  in  the  king's  presence.  If  Oswy  withdrew 
into  his  domestic  circle,  he  there  found  the  bigoted 
Eanfeld,  who  zealously  continued  the  work  of  the 
Eoman  missionary.  No  opportunities  were  neglected : 
in  the  midst  of  the  diversions  of  the  court,  at  table,  and 
even  during  the  chase,  discussions  were  perpetually 
raised  on  the  controverted  doctrines.  Men's  minds 
became  excited:  the  Romanists  already  assumed  the 
air  of  conquerors ;  and  the  Britons  often  withdrew  full 

<     of  anxiety  and  fear.     The  king,  placed  between  his 

j  wife  and  his  faith,  and  wearied  by  these  disputes,  in- 
clined first  to  one  side,  and  then  to  the  other,  as  if  he 
would  soon  fall  altogether. 

The  Papacy  had  more  powerful  motives  than  ever 
for  coveting  Northumberland.  Oswy  had  not  only 
usurped  the  throne  of  Deira,  but  after  the  death  of  the 
cruel  Penda,  who  fell  in  battle  in  G54,  he  had  con- 
quered his  states,  with  the  exception  of  a  portion 
governed  by  his  son-in-law,  Peada,  the  son  of  Penda. 
But  Peada  himself  having  fallen  in  a  conspiracy  said 
to  have  been  got  up  by  his  wife,  the  daughter  of  Oswy, 
the  latter  completed  the  conquest  of  Mercia,  and  thus 

!  united  the  greatest  part  of  England  under  Ids  sceptre. 
Kent  alone  at  that  time  acknowledged  the  jurisdiction 

j     of  Eome  :  in  every  other  province,  free  ministers,  pro- 

j  tected  by  the  kings  of  Northumberland,  preached  the 
Gospel.  This  wonderfully  simplified  the  question.  If 
Rome  gained  over  Oswy,  she  would  gain  England :  if 
she  failed,  she  must  sooner  or  later  leave  that  island 
altogether. 

This  was  not  all.  The  blood  of  Oswyn,  the  prema- 
ture death  of  Aidan,  and  other  things  besides,  troubled 
the  king's  breast.  He  desii-cd  to  appease  the  Deity  he 
had  offended,  and  not  knowing  that  Christ  is  the  dooi\ 
as  holy  Scripture  tells  us,  he  sought  among  men  for  a 
doorkeeper  who  would  open  to  him  the  kingdom  of 
heaven.  He  was  far  from  being  the  last  of  those  kings 
whom  the  necessity  of  expiating  their  crimes  impelled 
towards  Eomish  praelices.     The  crafty  Wilfrid,  keep- 

I    ing  alive  both  the  hopes  and  fears  of  the  prince,  often 


spoke  to  him  of  Eome,  and  of  the  grace  to  be  found 
there.  He  thought  that  the  fruit  was  ripe,  and  that 
now  he  had  only  to  shake  the  tree.  "  We  must  have 
a  public  disputation,  in  which  the  question  may  be 
settled  once  for  all,"  said  the  queen  and  her  advisers ; 
"  but  Eome  must  take  her  part  in  it  with  as  much 
pomp  as  her  adversaries.  Let  us  oppose  bishop  to 
bishop."  A  Saxon  bishop,  named  Agilbert,  a  friend  of 
Wilfrid's,  who  had  won  the  affection  of  the  young 
prince  Alfred,  was  invited  by  Eanfeld  to  the  confer- 
ence, and  he  arrived  in  Northumberland  attended  by 
a  priest  named  Agathon.  Alas  !  poor  British  Church, 
the  earthen  vessel  is  about  to  be  dashed  against  the 
vase  of  iron.  Britain  must  yield  before  the  invading 
march  of  Eome. 

On  the  coast  of  Y'orkshire,  at  the  f.arther  extremity 
of  a  quiet  bay,  was  situated  the  monastery  of  Strena;- 
shalh,  or  Whitby,  of  which  Hilda,  the  pious  daughter 
of  King  Edwin,  was  abbess.  She,  too,  was  desirous  of 
seeing  a  termination  of  the  violent  disputes  which  had 
agitated  the  Church  since  Wilfrid'.s  return.  On  the 
shores  of  the  North  Sea  the  struggle  was  to  be  decided 
between  Britain  and  Eome,  between  the  East  and  the 
West,  or,  as  they  said  then,  between  vSaint  John  and 
Saint  Peter.  It  was  not  a  mere  question  about  Easter, 
or  certain  rules  of  discipline,  but  of  the  great  doctrine 
of  the  freedom  of  the  Church  under  Jesus  Christ,  or 
its  enslavement  under  the  Papacy.  Rome,  ever  domi- 
neering, desired  for  the  second  time  to  hold  England  in 
its  grasp,  not  by  means  of  the  sword,  but  by  her  dogmas. 
AYith  her  usual  cunning  she  concealed  her  enormous 
pretensions  under  secondary  questions,  and  many  super- 
ficial thinkers  were  deceived  by  this  manoeuvre. 

The  meeting  took  place  in  the  convent  of  Whitby. 
The  king  and  his  son  entered  first;  then,  on  the  one 
side,  Colman,  with  the  bishops  and  elders  of  the  Bri- 
tons; and  on  the  other,  Bishop  Agilbert,  Agathon, 
Wilfrid,  Eomanus,  a  deacon  named  James,  and  several 
other  priests  of  the  Latin  confession.  Last  of  all  came 
Hilda  with  her  attendants,  among  whom  was  an  Eng- 
lish bishop  named  Cedda,  one  of  the  most  active  mis- 
sionaries of  the  age.'  He  had  at  first  preached  the 
Gospel  in  the  midland  districts,  whence  he  turned  his 
footsteps  towards  the  Anglo-Saxons  of  the  East,  and 
after  converting  a  great  number  of  these  pagans,  he 
had  returned  to  Finan,  and,  although  an  Englishman, 
had  i-eceived  episcopal  consecration  from  a  bishop, 
who  had  been  himself  ordained  by  the  elders  of  lona. 
Then  proceeding  westwards,  the  indefatigable  evan- 
gelist founded  churches,  and  appointed  elders  and 
deacons  wherever  he  went.  By  birth  an  Englishman, 
by  ordination  a  Scotchman,  everywhere  treated  with 
respect  and  consideration,  he  appeared  to  be  set  apart 
as  mediator  in  this  solemn  conference.  His  interven- 
tion could  not,  however,  retard  the  victory  of  Eome. 
Alas!  the  primitive  evangelism  had  gi-adnally  given 
way  to  an  ecclesiasticism,  coarse  and  rude  in  one 
place,  subtle  and  insinuating  in  another.  Whenever 
the  priests  were  called  upon  to  justify  certain  doctrines 
or  ceremonies,  instead  of  referring  solely  to  the  Word 
of  God,  that  fountain  of  all  light,  they  maintained 
that  thus  St.   James   did  at  Jerusalem,  St.  Mark  at 

1  "  Tlicsc  presbyters  were  Ceddti  and  Adda  and  Berti  and  Dinna,  of  wliom 
the  last  was  by  nation  aScot,  the  i-est  were  English."— iJedo,  lib.  iii ,  cap.  xxi. 


THE  DISPUTATION. 


Alexandria,  St.  John  at  Ephesus,  or  St.  Peter  at  Rome. 
Tlicy  gave  the  name  of  apostolical  canons  to  rules 
■\vliich  tlie  apostles  liad  never  known.  They  even 
went  further  than  this:  at  Kome  and  in  the  East, 
ccclesiasticisra  represented  itself  to  be  a  law  of  God, 
and  from  a  state  of  weakness,  it  thus  became  a  state 
of  sin.  Some  marks  of  this  error  were  already  begin- 
1  ning  to  appear  in  the  Christianity  of  the  Britons. 
!  King  Oswy  was  the  first  to  speak:  "  As  servants  of 

I      one  and  the  same  God,  we  hope  all  to  enjoy  the  same 
I      inheritance  iu  heaven  ;  why,  then,  should  we  not  have 
;      the  same  rule  of  life  here   below?     Let  us  inquire 
j     which  is  tlie  true  one,  and  follow  it."    ..."  Tliose 
who   sent   me   hither  as  bishop,"  said  Colman,  "  and 
!     who  gave  me  the  rule  which  I  observe,  are  the  beloved 
I     of  God.     Let  us  beware  how  we  despise  their  teach- 
ing, for  it  is  the  teaching  of  Columba,  of  the  blessed 
evangelist  John,  and  of  the  churches  over  which  that 
ajiostle  presided." 

"  As  for  us,"  boldly  rejoined  Wilfrid,  for  to  him  as 

to  the  most  skilful,  had  Bishop  Agilbert  intrusted  tlie 

defence  of  their  cause,  "  our  custom  is  that  of  Rome, 

where  the  holy  apostles  Peter  and  Paul  taught ;  we 

'     found  it  in  Italy  and  Gaul,  nay,  it  is  spread  over  every 

nation.     Sliall  the  Picts  and  Britons,  cast  on  these  two 

islands,  on  the  very  confines  of  the  ocean,  dare  to  con- 

I     tend  against  the  whole  world?     However  holy  your 

I     Columba  may  have  been,  will  you  prefer  him  to  the 

prince  of  the  apostles,  to  whom  Christ  said.  Thou  art 

Peter,  and  I  will  give  unto  thee  the  keys  of  the  kingdom  of 

\     heaven?" 

j         Wilfrid  spoke  with  animation,  and  his  words  being 
i     skilfully  adapted  to  his  audience,  began  to  make  them 
waver.     He  had  artfully  substituted  Columba  for  the 
I     Apostle  John,  from  whom  the  British  Church  claimed 
I     descent   and   opposed  to  St.  Peter  a  plain  elder   of 
I     lona.     Oswy,  whose  idol  was  power,  couhl  not  hesitate 
j     between  paltry  bishops  and  that  pope  of  Rome  who 
commanded  the  whole  world.     Already  imagining  he 
saw  Peter  at  the  gates  of  paradise,  with  the  keys  in 
his  hand,  he  exclaimed  with  emotion :  "  Is  it  true, 
Colman,  that  these  words  were  addressed  by  our  Lord 
to  St.  Peter  V — "  It  is  true."     "  Can  you  prove  that 
similar  powers  were  given  to  your  Columba?"     The 
j     bishop  replied  :  "  Wo  cannot ;"  but  he  might  have  told 
j     the  king:  "John,  whose  doctrine  we  follow,  and  in- 
j     deed  every  disciple,  has  received,  in  the  same  sense  as 
1     St.  Peter,  the  power  to  remit  sins,  to  bind  and  to  loose 
j     on  earth  and  in  heaven."     But  the  knowledge  of  the 
Holy  Scriptures  was   fading  away  in  lona,  and  the 
I     unsuspecting  Colman  had  not  observed  Wilfrid's  strat- 
agem  in   substituting  Columba  for  St.  John.     Upon 
this,  Oswy,  delighted  to  yield  to  the  continual  solicita- 
j     tions  of  the  queen,  and,  above  all,  to  find  some  one 
who  would  admit  him  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven, 
exclaimed:  "Peter  is  the  doorkeeper,  I  will  obey  him, 
lest  when  I  appear  at  the  gate  there  should  be  no  one 
to  open   it  to  me."     The  spectators,  carried  away  by 
this  royal  confession,  hastened  to  give  iu  their  submis- 
sion to  the  vicar  of  St.  Peter. 

Thus  did  Rome  triumph  at  the  AVhitby  conference. 
Oswy  forgot  that  the  Lord  had  said:  I  am  He  that 
openeth,  and  no  man  shiit/cth;  and  shiitfcth,  and  no  man 
openeth,  (John  x.  9;  Rev.  iii.  7.)     It  was  by  ascribing 


to  Peter  the  servant,  what  belongs  to  Jesus  Christ  the 
master,  that  the  Papacy  reduced  Britain.  Oswy 
stretched  out  his  hands,  Rome  riveted  the  chains,  and 
the  liberty  which  Oswald  had  given  his  Church  seemed 
at  the  last  gasp. 

Colman  saw,  with  grief  and  consternation,  Oswy 
and  his  subjects  bending  their  knees  before  the  foreign 
priests.  He  did  not,  however,  despair  of  the  ultimate 
triumph  of  the  truth.  The  apostolic  faith  could  still 
find  shelter  in  the  old  sanctuaries  of  the  British  Church 
in  Scotland  and  Ireland.  Immoveable  in  the  doc- 
trine he  had  received,  and  resolute  to  uphold  Christian 
liberty,  Colman  withdrew  with  those  who  would  not 
bend  beneath  the  yoke  of  Rome,  and  returned  to  Scot- 
land. Thirty  Anglo-Saxons,  and  a  great  number  of 
Britons,  shook  off  the  dust  of  their  feet  against  the 
tenets  of  the  Romish  priests.  The  hatred  of  Popery 
became  more  intense  day  by  day  among  the  remainder 
of  the  Britons.  Determined  to  repel  its  erroneous 
dogmas  and  its  illegitimate  dominion,  they  maintained 
their  communion  with  the  Eastern  Church,  which  was 
more  ancient  than  that  of  Rome.  They  shuddered  as 
they  saw  the  red  dragou  of  the  Celts  gradually  retiring 
towards  the  western  sea  from  before  the  white  dragon 
of  the  Saxons.  They  ascribed  their  misfortunes  to  a 
horrible  conspiracy,  planned  by  the  iniquitous  ambition 
of  the  foreign  monks ;  and  the  bards  in  their  chants 
cursed  the  negligent  ministers  who  defended  not  the 
flock  of  the  Lord  against  the  wolves  of  Rome.  But 
vain  were  their  lamentations  I 

The  Romish  priests,  aided  by  the  queen,  lost  no 
time.  W'ilfrid,  whom  Oswy  desired  to  reward  for 
his  tiiumi)h,  was  named  Bi-liop  of  Northumberland, 
and  he  immediateK  M-itedJ'ms  to  iecu\e  episcopal 


570 


HISTORY  OF  THE  EEFORMATION. 


consecration  in  due  form.  He  soon  returned,  and  pro- 
ceeded with  singular  activity  to  establish  the  Romish 
doctrine  in  all  the  chmxhes.  Bishop  of  a  diocese  ex- 
tending from  Edinburgh  to  Northampton,  enriched 
with  the  goods  which  had  belonged  to  divers  monas- 
teries, surrounded  by  a  numerous  train,  served  upon 
gold  and  silver  plate,  Wilfrid  congratulated  himself  on 
having  espoused  the  cause  of  the  Papacy;  he  offended 
everj^  one  who  approached  him  by  his  insolence,  and 
taught  England  liow  wide  was  the  difference  hetweeu 
the  humble  ministers  of  lona  and  a  Romish  priest.  At 
the  same  time  Oswy,  coming  to  an  understanding  with 
the  King  of  Kent,  sent  another  priest,  named  Wighard, 
to  Rome,  to  learn  the  pope's  intentions  respecting  the 
Church  in  England,  and  to  receive  consecration  as 
Archbishop  of  Canterburj'.  There  was  no  episcopal 
ordination  in  England  worthy  of  a  priest!  In  the 
meanwhile  Oswy,  with  all  the  zeal  of  a  new  convert, 
ceased  not  to  repeat  that  "the  Roman  Church  w-as 
the  Catholic  and  Apostolic  Church,"  and  thought  night 
and  day  on  the  means  of  converting  his  subjects,  hop- 
ing thus  (says  a  pope)  to  redeem  his  own  soul. 

The  arrival  of  this  news  at  Rome  created  a  gi-eat 
sensation.  Vitalian,  who  then  filled  the  episcopal 
chair,  and  was  as  insolent  to  his  bishops  as  he  was 
fawning  and  servile  to  the  emperor,  exclaimed  with 
transport :  "  Who  would  not  be  overjoyed  ! — a  king 
converted  to  the  true  apostolic  faith,  a  people  that  be- 
lieves at  last  in  Christ  the  Almighty  God !"  For  many 
long  years  this  people  had  believed  in  Christ,  but  they 
were  now  beginning  to  believe  in  the  pope,  and  the 
pope  will  soon  make  them  forget  Jesus  the  Saviour. 
Vitalian  wrote  to  Oswy,  and  sent  him — not  copies  of 
the  Holy  Scriptures,  (which  were  already  becoming 
scarce  at  Rome,)  but — relics  of  the  saints,  Peter,  John, 
Lawrence,  Gregory,  and  Pancratius ;  and  being  in  an 
especial  manner  desirous  of  rewarding  Queen  Eanfeld, 
to  whom  with  Wilfrid  belonged  the  glory  of  this  work, 
he  offered  her  a  cross,  made,  as  he  assured  her,  out  of 
the  chains  of  St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul.  "  Delay  not," 
said  the  pope  in  conclusion,  "  to  reduce  all  your  island 
under  Jesus  Christ,"  or  in  other  words,  iinder  the 
bishop  of  Rome. 

The  essential  thing,  however,  was  to  send  an  arch- 
bishop from  Rome  to  Britain ;  but  Wighard  was  dead, 
and  no  one  seemed  willing  to  undertake  so  long  a 
journey. 

There  was  not  much  zeal  in  the  city  of  the  pontiffs ; 
and  the  pope  was  compelled  to  look  out  for  a  stranger. 
There  happened  at  that  time  to  be  in  Rome  a  man  of 
great  reputation  for  learning,  who  had  come  from  the 
East,  and  adopted  the  rites  and  doctrines  of  the  Latins 
in  exchange  for  the  knowledge  he  had  brought  them. 
He  was  pointed  out  to  Vitalian  as  well  qualified  to  be 
the  metropolitan  of  England.  Theodore,  for  such  was 
his  name,  belonging  by  birth  to  the  churches  of  Asia 
Minor,  would  be  listened  to  by  the  Britons  in  preference 
to  any  other,  when  he  solicited  them  to  abandon  their 
oriental  customs.  The  Roman  pontiff,  however,  fear- 
ful perhaps  that  he  might  yet  entertain  some  leaven  of 
his  former  Greek  doctrines,  gave  him  as  companion, 
or  rather  as  overseer,  a  zealous  African  monk  named 
Adrian. 

Theodore  began  the  great  crusade  against  British 


Christianity,  and,  endeavouiing  to  shew  the  sincerity  of 
his  conversion  by  his  zeal,  he  traversed  all  England  in 
company  with  Adrian,  everywhere  imposing  on  the 
people  that  ecclesiastical  supremacy  to  which  Rome  is 
indebted  for  her  political  supremacy.  The  superiority 
of  character  which  distinguished  St.  Peter,  Theodore 
transformed  into  a  superiority  of  office.  For  the  juris- 
diction of  Christ  and  His  Word,  he  substituted  that  of 
the  bishop  of  Rome  and  of  his  decrees.  He  insisted 
on  the  necessity  of  ordination  by  bishops  who,  in  an 
unbroken  chain,  could  trace  back  their  authority  to  the 
apostles  themselves.  The  British  still  maintained  the 
validity  of  their  consecration ;  but  the  number  was 
small  of  those  who  understood  that  preteuded  succes- 
sors of  the  apostles,  who  sometimes  carry  Satan  in  their 
hearts,  are  not  true  ministers  of  Christ;  that  the  one 
thing  needful  for  the  Church  is,  that  the  apostles  them- 
selves (and  not  their  successors  only)  should  dwell  in 
its  bosom  by  their  word,  by  their  teaching,  and  by  the 
Divine  Comforter  who  shall  be  with  it  for  ever  and 
ever. 

The  grand  defection  now  began:  the  best  were  some- 
times the  first  to  yield.  When  Theodore  met  Cedda, 
who  had  been  consecrated  by  a  bishop  who  had  him- 
self received  ordination  from  the  elders  of  loua,  he 
said  to  him  :  "  You  have  not  been  regularly  ordained." 
Cedda,  instead  of  standing  up  boldly  for  the  truth, 
gave  way  to  a  carnal  modesty,  and  replied :  "  I  never 
thought  myself  worthy  of  the  episcopate,  and  am  ready 
to  lay  it  down." — "No,"  said  Theodore,  "you  shall 
remain  a  bishop,  but  I  will  consecrate  you  anew  ac- 
cording to  the  Catholic  ritual."  The  British  minister 
submitted.  Rome  triumphant  felt  herself  strong  enough 
to  deny  the  imposition  of  hands  of  the  elders  of  loua, 
which  she  had  hitherto  recognised.  The  most  stedfast 
believers  took  refuge  in  Scotland. 

In  this  manner  a  church  in  some  respects  deficient, 
but  still  a  church  in  which  the  religious  element  held 
the  foremost  place,  was  succeeded  by  another  in  which 
the  clerical  element  predominated.  This  was  soon 
apparent:  questions  of  authority  and  precedence,  hither- 
to unknown  among  the  British  Christians,  were  now 
of  daily  occurrence.  Wilfrid,  who  had  fixed  his  resi- 
dence at  York,  thought  that  no  one  deserved  better 
than  he  to  be  primate  of  all  England ;  and  Theodore, 
on  his  part,  was  irritated  at  the  haughty  tone  assumed 
by  this  bishop.  During  the  life  of  Oswy  peace  ^vas 
maintained,  for  Wilfrid  was  his  favourite ;  but  erelong 
that  prince  fell  ill,  and,  terrified  by  the  near  approach 
of  death,  he  vowed  that  if  he  recovered  he  would  make 
a  pilgrimage  to  Rome  and  there  end  his  days.  "  If  you 
will  be  my  guide  to  the  city  of  the  apostles,"  he  said  to 
AVilfrid,  "  I  will  give  you  a  large  sum  of  money."  But 
his  vow  was  of  no  avail :  Oswy  died  in  the  spring  of 
the  year  670  a.  d. 

The  Witwi  set  aside  Prince  Alfred,  and  raised  his 
youngest  brother  Egfrid  to  the  throne.  The  new 
monarch,  who  had  often  been  offended  by  Wilfrid's 
insolence,  denounced  this  haughty  prelate  to  the  arch- 
bishop. Nothing  could  be  more  agreeable  to  Theo- 
dore. He  assembled  a  council  at  Hertford,  before 
which  the  chief  of  his  converts  were  first  summoned, 
and  presenting  to  them,  not  the  Holy  Scriptaves,  but 
the    canons   of  the  Romish    Church,  he   received  their 


WILFRID'S  DISGRACE  AND  END. 


571 


solemn  oaths:  siidi  wns  the  rcli.sion  tlicn  taught  in 
Eiigliinil.  Hilt  this  was  not  all.  "The  diocese  of  our 
brother  AVilfrid  is  so  extcusive,"  said  the  primate, 
"  that  there  is  room  in  it  for  four  bishops."  They 
were  appointed  accordingly.  AVilfrid  indignantly  ap- 
pealed from  the  primate  and  the  king  to  the  pope. 
"Who  converted  England,  who,  if  not  I?  .  .  . 
and  it  is  thus  I  am  rewarded!"  .  .  .  Not  allowing 
himself  to  be  checked  by  the  dillicultiea  of  the  journey, 
he  set  out  for  Rome,  attended  by  a  few  monks  ;  and 
Tope  Agathon  assembling  a  council,  (679,)  the  Eng- 
lishman presented  his  complaint,  and  the  pontiff  de- 
clared the  destitution  to  be  illegal.  Wilfrid  imme- 
diately returned  to  England,  and  haughtily  presented 
the  pope's  decree  to  the  king.  But  Egfrid,  who  was 
not  of  a  disposition  to  tolerate  these  transalpine  man- 
ners, far  from  restoring  the  see,  cast  the  prelate  into 
prison,  and  did  not  release  him  until  the  end  of  the 
year,  and  then  only  on  condition  that  he  would  imme- 
diately quit  Northumbria. 

Wilfrid — for  we  must  follow  even  to  the  end  of  his 
life  that  remarkable  man,  who  exercised  so  great  an 
influence  over  the  destinies  of  the  English  Church — 
Wilfrid  was  determined  to  be  a  bishop  at  any  cost. 
The  kingdom  of  Sussex  was  still  pagan ;  and  the  de- 
posed prelate,  whose  indefatigable  activity  we  cannot 
but  acknowledge,  formed  the  resolution  of  winning  a 
bishopric,  as  other  men  plan  the  conquest  of  a  kingdom. 
He  arrived  in  Sussex  during  a  period  of  famine,  and 
having  brought  with  him  a  number  of  nets,  he  taught 
the  people  the  art  of  fishing,  and  thus  gained  their 
atTcctions.  Tiieir  king,  Edilwalch,  had  been  baptized, 
his  subjects  now  followed  his  example,  and  AVilfrid 
was  placed  at  the  head  of  the  church.  But  he  soon 
manifested  the  disposition  by  which  he  was  animated : 
he  furnished  supplies  of  men  and  money  to  Ceadwalla, 
king  of  AVessex,  and  this  cruel  chieftain  made  a  fierce 
inroad  into  Sussex,  laying  it  waste,  and  putting  to 
death  Edilwalch,  the  prelate's  benefactor.  The  career 
of  the  turbulent  bishop  was  not  ended.  King  Egfrid 
died,  and  was  succeeded  by  his  brother  Alfred,  whom 
AVilfrid  had  brought  up,  a  prince  fond  of  learning  and 
religion,  and  emulous  of  the  glory  of  his  uncle  Oswald. 
The  ambitious  AA'^ilfrid  hastened  to  claim  his  see  of 
York,  by  acquiescing  in  the  partition  ;  it  was  restored 
to  him,  and  lie  forthwith  began  to  plunder  others  to 
enrich  himself.  A  council  begged  him  to  submit  to  the 
deci-ecs  of  the  Church  of  England;  he  refused,  and, 
having  lost  the  esteem  of  the  king,  his  former  pupil, 
he  undertook,  notwithstanding  his  advanced  years,  a 
third  journey  to  Rome.  Knowing  how  popes  are  won, 
he  threw  himself  at  the  pontiff's  feet,  exclaiming  that 
"  the  suppliant  bishop  AA^ilfrid,  the  humble  slave  of  the 
servant  of  God,  implored  the  favour  of  our  most  blessed 
lord,  the  pope  universal."  The  bishop  could  not  re- 
store his  creature  to  his  see,  and  the  short  remainder 
of  AA'ilfrid's  life  was  spent  in  the  midst  of  the  riches 
his  cupidity  had  so  unworthily  accumulated. 

Yet  he  had  accomplished  the  task  of  his  life:  all 
England  was  subservient  to  the  papacy.  The  names 
of  OsK-ii  and  of  Wilfrid  shoidd  be  inscribed  in  letters 
of  mourning  in  the  annals  of  Great  Britain.  Posterity 
has  erred  m  permitting  them  to  sink  into  oblivion ;  for 
they  were  two  of  the  most  influential  and  energetic 


men  that  ever  flourished  in  England.  Still  this  very 
forgetfulness  is  not  wanting  in  generosity.  The  grave 
in  which  the  liberty  of  the  church  lay  buried  for  nine 
centuries  is  the  only  monument — a  mournful  one  in- 
deed— that  should  perpetuate  their  memory. 

But  Scotland  was  still  free,  and  to  secure  the  defini- 
tive triumph  of  Rome,  it  was  necessary  to  invade  that 
virgin  soil,  over  which  the  standard  of  the  faith  had 
floated  for  so  many  years. 

Adamnan  was  then  .at  the  head  of  the  church  of 
lona,  the  first  elder  of  that  religious  house.  He  w;is 
virtuous  and  learned,  but  weak  and  somewhat  vain, 
and  his  religion  had  little  spirituality.  To  gain  him 
was,  in  the  eyes  of  Rome,  to  gain  Scotland.  A  singular 
circumstance  favoured  the  plans  of  those  who  desired 
to  draw  him  into  the  papal  communion.  One  day, 
during  a  violent  tempest,  a  ship  coming  from  the  Holy 
Land,  and  on  board  of  which  was  a  Gaulish  bishop, 
named  Arculf,  was  wrecked  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
lona.  Arculf  eagerly  sought  an  asylum  among  the 
pious  inhabitants  of  that  island.  Adamnan  never  grew 
tired  of  hearing  the  stranger's  descriptions  of  Bethle- 
hem, Jerusalem,  and  Golgotha,  of  the  sun-burnt  plains 
over  which  our  Lord  had  wandered,  and  the  cleft  stone 
which  still  lay  before  the  door  of  the  sepulchre.  The 
elder  of  lona,  who  prided  himself  on  his  learning, 
noted  down  Arculf's  conversation,  and  from  it  com- 
posed a  description  of  the  Holy  Land.  As  soon  as  his 
book  was  completed,  the  desire  of  making  these  won- 
drous things  more  widely  known,  combined  with  a 
little  vanity,  and  perhaps  other  motives,  urged  him  to 
visit  the  court  of  Northumberland,  where  he  presented 
his  work  to  the  pious  King  Alfred,  who,  being  fond  of 
learning  and  of  the  Christian  traditions,  caused  a 
number  of  copies  of  it  to  be  made. 

Nor  was  this  all :  the  Romish  clergy  perceived  the 
advantage  they  might  derive  from  this  imprudent 
journey.  They  crowded  round  the  elder ;  they  shewed 
him  all  the  pomp  of  their  worship,  and  said  to  him : 
"  AA^ill  you  and  your  friends,  who  live  at  the  very  ex- 
tremity of  the  world,  set  yourselves  in  opposition  to 
the  observances  of  the  universal  church?"  The  nobles 
of  the  court  flattered  the  author's  self-love,  and  invited 
him  to  their  festivities,  while  the  king  loaded  him  with 
presents.  The  free  presbyter  of  Britain  became  a  priest 
of  Rome,  and  Adamnan  returned  to  lona  to  betray  his 
church  to  his  new  masters.  But  it  Wi\s  all  to  no  pur- 
pose: lona  would  not  give  way.  He  then  went  to 
hide  his  shame  in  Ireland,  -where,  having  brought  a  few 
individuals  to  the  Romish  uniformity,  he  took  courage 
and  revisited  Scotland.  But  that  country,  still  in- 
flexible, repelled  him  with  indignation. 

AVhen  Rome  found  herself  unable  to  conquer  by  the 
priest,  she  had  recourse  to  the  prince;  and  her  eyes 
were  turned  to  Naitam,  king  of  the  Picts.  "  How 
much  more  glorious  it  would  be  for  you,"  \n-ged  the 
Latin  priests,  "to  belong  to  the  powerful  church  of 
the  universal  pontiff  of  Rome,  than  to  a  congregation 
superintended  by  miserable  elders!  The  Romish 
Church  is  a  monarchy,  and  ought  to  be  the  church  of 
every  monarch.  The  Roman  ceremonial  accords  with 
the  pomp  of  royalty,  and  its  temples  are  palaces."  The 
prince  wjis  convinced  by  the  last  argument.  He  des- 
patched messengers  to  Ceolfrid,  the  abbot  of  an  English 


HISTORY  OF  THE  EEFORMATION. 


convent,  begging  him  to  send  him  architects  capable  of 
building  a  church  after  the  Boman  jmttern — of  stone, 
and  not  of  wood.  Architects,  majestic  porches,  lofty 
columns,  vaulted  roofs,  gilded  altars,  have  often 
proved  the  most  influential  of  Kome's  missionaries. 
The  builder's  art,  though  in  its  earliest  and  simplest 
days,  was  more  powerful  than  the  Bible.  Naitam, 
who,  by  submitting  to  the  pope,  thought  himself  the 
equal  of  Clovis  and  Clotaire,  assembled  the  nobles  of 
his  court  and  the  pastors  of  his  church,  and  thus  ad- 
dressed them:  "I  recommend  all  the  clergy  of  my 
kingdom  to  receive  the  tonsure  of  St.  Peter."  Then 
without  delay,  (as  Bede  informs  us,)  this  important 
revolution  was  accomplished  by  royal  authority.  He 
sent  agents  and  letters  into  every  province,  and  caused 
all  the  ministers  and  monks  to  receive  the  circular 
tonsure  according  to  the  Roman  fashion.  It  was  the 
mark  that  Popery  stamped,  not  on  the  forehead,  but 
on  the  crowu.  A  royal  proclamation  and  a  few  clips 
of  the  scissors  placed  the  Scotch,  hke  a  flock  of  sheep, 
beneath  the  ciook  of  the  shepheid  of  the  Tibi,i 


ST      MARYS     ABBEY      YORK 

lona  btill  held  out.  Ihe  ordeis  of  the  Pictith  kmg, 
the  example  of  his  subjects,  the  sight  of  that  Italian 
power  which  was  devouring  the  cartli,  had  shaken 
some  few  minds;  but  the  Church  still  resisted  the 
innovation.  lona  was  the  last  citadel  of  liberty  in  the 
western  world,  and  Popery  was  filled  with  anger  at 
that  miserable  band  which  in  its  remote  corner  refused 
to  bend  before  it.  Human  means  appeared  insufficient 
to  con(pier  this  rock :  something  more  was  needed, 
visions  and  miracles  for  example;  and  these  Rome 
always  finds  when  she  wants  them.  One  day,  towards 
the  end  of  the  seventh  century,  an  English  monk, 
named  Egbert,  arriving  from  Ireland,  appeared  before 
the  elders  of  lona,  who  received  him  with  their  accus- 
tomed hospitality.  He  was  a  man  in  whom  enthu- 
siastic devotion  was  combined  with  great  gentleness  of 
heart,  and  he  soon  won  upon  the  minds  of  these  simple 
believers.  He  spoke  to  them  of  an  external  unity, 
urging  that  a  universality  manifested  under  different 
forms  was  unsuited  to  the  Church  of  Christ.  He 
advocated  the  special  form  of  Eome,  and  for  the  truly 


catholic  element  which  the  Christians  of  lona  had  thus 
far  possessed,  substituted  a  sectarian  element.  He 
attacked  the  traditions  of  the  British  Church,  and 
lavishly  distributing  the  rich  presents  confided  to  him 
by  the  lords  of  Ireland  and  of  England,  he  soon  had 
reason  to  acknowledge  the  truth  of  the  saying  of  the 
wise  man  :  A  gift  is  ccs  a  precious  stone  in  the  eyes  of  him 
that  hath  it ;  whithersoever  it  tiirneth  it  jwospereth. 

Some  pious  soids,  however,  still  held  out  in  lona. 
The  enthusiast  Egbert — for  such  he  appears  to  have 
been,  rather  than  an  impostor — had  recourse  to  other 
means.  He  represented  himself  to  be  a  messenger 
from  heaven:  the  saints  themselves,  said  he,  have 
commissioned  mc  to  convert  lona;  and  then  he  told 
the  following  history  to  the  elders  who  stood  round 
him  : — "About  thirty  years  ago  I  entered  the  monas- 
tery of  Rathmelfig  in  Ireland,  when  a  terrible  pestilence 
fell  upon  it,  and  of  all  the  brethren  the  monk  Edclhun 
and  myself  were  left  alone.  Attacked  by  the  plague, 
and  ftiring  my  last  hour  was  come,  I  rose  from  my 
bed  and  ciept  into  the  chapel.  There  my  whole  body 
tiembled  at  the  recollection  of  my  sins, 
and  my  face  was  bathed  with  tears. 
'  0  God  !'  I  exclaimed,  '  suffer  me  not 
to  die  until  I  have  redeemed  my  debt 
to  thee  by  an  abundance  of  good  works. 
I  1  etui  nod  staggering  to  the  infirmary, 
got  into  bod,  and  fell  asleep.  When  I 
iwoke,  I  saw  Edelhun  with  his  eyes 
fixed  on  mine.  '  Brother  Egbert,'  said 
he,  'it  has  been  revealed  to  me  in  a 
vision  that  thou  slialt  receive  what 
thou  hast  asked.'  On  the  following 
night  Edclhun  died  and  I  recovered. 
"Many  years  passed  away:  my  rc- 
ntance  and  my  vigils  did  not  satisfy 
1  ,  and  wishing  to  pay  my  debt,  I  re- 
h  ed  to  go  with  a  company  of  monks 
aud  pi  each  the  blessings  of  the  Gospel 
to  the  heathens  of  Germany.  But 
duiing  the  night  a  blessed  saint  from 
hca\en  appeared  to  one  of  the  brethren 
and  said:  'Tell  Egbert  that  he  must 
I  go  to  the  monasteiies  of  Columba,  for  their  ploughs  do 
not  plough  straight,  and  lie  must  put  them  into  the 
right  furrow.'  I  forbade  this  brother  to  speak  of  his 
vision,  and  went  on  board  a  ship  bound  for  Germany. 
AVe  were  waiting  for  a  favourable  wind,  when,  of  a 
sudden,  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  a  frightful  tempest 
burst  upon  the  vessel,  and  drove  us  on  the  shoals. 
'  For  my  sake  this  tempest  is  upon  us,'  I  exclaimed  in 
terror ;  '  God  speaks  to  me  as  He  did  to  Jonah  ;'  and  I 
ran  to  take  refuge  in  my  cell.  At  last  I  determined  to 
obey  the  command  which  the  holy  man  had  brought 
me.  I  left  Ireland,  and  came  among  you,  in  order  to 
pay  my  debt  by  converting  you.  And  now,"  continued 
Egbert,  "make  answer  to  the  voice  of  heaven,  and 
submit  to  Rome." 

A  ship  thrown  on  shore  by  a  storm  was  a  frequent 
occurrence  on  those  coasts,  and  the  dream  of  a  monk, 
absorbed  in  the  plans  of  his  brother,  was  nothing  very 
unnatural.  But  in  those  times  of  darkness  everything 
appeared  miraculous;  phantoms  and  apparitions  had 
more   weidit   than   the   AVord   of   God.     Instead  of 


THE  FALL  OF  lONA. 


573 


detectinft  the  emptiness  of  these  visions  by  the  false- 
ness of  tlie  religion  they  were  brought  to  support,  tlie 
elders  of  loiia  listcucd  seriously  to  Egbert's  narrative. 
The  primitive  faith  planted  on  the  roek  of  leolmkill 
was  now  like  a  i>ine-tree  tossed  by  tiie  winds;  but  one 
gust,  and  it  would  be  uprooted  and  blown  into  the  sea. 
Egbert,  perceiving  tiic  elders  to  be  shaken,  redoubled 
his  prayers,  and  even  had  recourse  to  threats.  "All 
the  west,"  said  he,  "bends  tlie  knee  to  Konic :  alone 
against  all,  what  can  you  do?"  Tiie  Scotch  still  re- 
sisted :  obscure  and  unknown,  the  last  liritish  Christ- 
ians contended  in  behalf  of  expiring  liberty.  At  length 
bewildered — they  stumbled  and  fell.  Tiie  scissors 
were  brought;  they  received  the  Latin  tonsure — they 
were  tlie  jiopc's. 

Thus  fell  .Scotland.  Yet  there  still  remained  some 
sparks  of  grace,  and  the  mountains  of  Caledonia  long 
concealed  the  hidden  fire  which  after  many  ages  burst 
fortli  with  such  power  and  might.  Here  and  there  a 
few  independent  spirits  were  to  be  found  who  testified 
against  the  tjTaniiy  of  Rome.  In  the  time  of  IJcde 
they  niiglit  be  seen  "halting  in  their  paths,"  (to  use 
the  words  of  the  Romish  historian.)  refusing  to  join  in 
the  holidays  of  the  pontifical  adherents,  and  pusliing 
away  the  hands  that  were  eager  to  shave  their  crowns. 
But  the  leaders  of  the  State  and  of  the  Church  had  laid 
down  their  arms.  Tlie  contest  was  over,  after  lasting 
more  than  a  century.  British  Christianity  had  in  some 
degree  prepared  its  own  fall,  by  substituting  too  often 
the  form  for  the  faith.  The  foreign  superstition  took 
advantage  of  this  weakness,  and  triumphed  in  these 
islands  by  means  of  royal  decrees,  church  ornaments, 
monkish  phantoms,  and  conventual  apparitions.  At 
the  beginning  of  the  eighth  century  the  British  Church 
became  the  serf  of  Rome  ;  but  an  internal  struggle  was 
commencing,  which  did  not  cease  until  the  period  of 
the  Reformation. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Clement— struggle  between  a  Scotchman  and  an  Englislimnn — Word  of  God 
only— Clement's  Success — His  Condemnation — Virgil  and  the  Antipodes 
—John  Scotus  and  Philosophical  Religion— Alfred  and  the  Bible— Dark- 
ness and  Popei7— William  the  Conqueror— Wulston  at  Edward's  Tomb 
—  Struggle  between  William  and  Hildebrand— The  Pope  yields— Casaro- 
papia. 

The  independent  Christians  of  Scotland,  who  subordin- 
ated the  authority  of  man  to  that  of  God,  were  filled 
with  sorrow  as  they  beheld  these  backslidiugs  ;  and  it 
was  this,  no  doubt,  which  induced  many  to  leave  their 
homes  and  fight  in  the  very  heart  of  Europe  in  behalf 
of  that  Christian  liberty  which  had  just  expired  among 
themselves. 

At  the  commencement  of  the  eighth  century  a  great 
idea  took  possession  of  a  pious  doctor  of  the  Scottish 
church,  named  Clement.  The  icork  of  God  is  the  very 
essence  of  Christianity,  thought  he,  and  this  work  must 
be  defended  against  all  the  encroachments  of  man. 
To  human  traditionalism  he  opposed  the  sole  authority 
of  the  Word  of  God ;  to  clerical  materialism,  a  church 
which  is  the  assembly  of  the  saints ;  and  to  Felagiauism, 


the  sovereignty  of  grace.  lie  was  a  man  of  decided 
ch.aracter  and  firm  faith,  but  without  fanaticism ;  his 
heart  was  open  to  the  holiest  emotions  of  our  nature ; 
he  was  a  husband  and  a  father.  He  quitted  Scotland 
and  travelled  among  the  Franks,  everywliere  scattering 
the  seeds  of  the  faitli.  It  happened,  unfortunately, 
that  a  man  of  kindred  energy,  Winifrid  or  Boniface  of 
Wessex,  was  planting  the  pontifical  Christianity  in 
the  same  regions.  This  great  missionary,  who  pos- 
sessed in  an  essential  degree  the  faculty  of  organiza- 
tion, aimed  at  external  unity  above  all  things ;  and 
when  he  had  taken  the  oath  of  fidelity  to  Gregory  II., 
ho  had  received  from  that  pope  a  collection  of  tlio 
Roman  laws.  Boniface,  henceforth  a  docile  disciple,  or 
rather  a  fanatical  champion  of  Rome,  supported  on  tlie 
one  hand  by  the  pontiff,  and  on  the  other  by  Charles 
IMartel,  had  preached  to  the  people  of  Germany,  among 
some  undoubted  Christian  truths,  the  doctrine  of 
titlies  and  of  papal  supremacy.  The  Englishman  and 
the  Scotchman,  representatives  of  two  great  systems, 
were  about  to  engage  in  deadly  combat  in  the  heart  of 
Europe — in  a  combat  whose  consequences  might  be 
incalculable. 

Alarmed  at  the  progress  made  by  Clement's  evan- 
gelical doctrines,  Boniface,  archbishop  of  the  German 
churches,  undertook  to  oppose  them.  At  first  he  con- 
fronted the  Scotchman  with  the  laws  of  the  Roman 
Church  ;  but  the  latter  denied  the  authority  of  these 
ecclesiastical  canons,  and  refuted  their  contents.  Boni- 
face then  put  forward  the  decisions  of  various  councils ; 
but  Clement  replied,  that  if  the  decisions  of  the  coun- 
cils are  contrary  to  Holy  Scripture,  they  have  no 
authority  over  Christians.  The  archbishop,  astonished 
at  such  audacity,  next  had  recourse  to  the  writings  of 
the  most  illustrious  Fathers  of  the  Latin  Church,  quot- 
ing Jerome,  Augustine,  and  Gregory;  but  the  Scotch- 
man told  him,  that  instead  of  submitting  to  the  word 
of  men,  he  would  obey  the  Word  of  God  alone.  Boni- 
face, with  indignation,  now  introduced  the  Catholic 
Church  which,  by  its  priests  and  bishops,  all  united  to 
the  pope,  forms  an  invincible  unity;  but  to  his  great 
surprise  his  opponent  maintained  that  there  only, 
where  the  Holy  Spirit  dwells,  can  be  found  the 
spouse  of  Jesus  Christ.  Vainly  did  the  archbishop 
express  his  horror ;  Clement  was  not  to  be  turned 
aside  from  his  great  idea,  either  by  the  clamours  of 
the  followers  of  Rome,  or  by  the  imprudent  attacks 
made  on  the  Papacy  by  other  Christian  ministers. 
Rome  had,  indeed,  otiier  adversaries.  A  Gallic  bishop 
named  Adalbert,  with  whom  Boniface  affected  to  asso- 
ciate Clement,  one  day  saw  the  archbishop  compla- 
cently exhibiting  to  the  people  some  relics  of  St.  Peter 
which  he  had  brought  from  Rome ;  and  being  desirous 
of  shewing  the  ridiculous  character  of  these  Romish 
practices,  he  distributed  among  the  bystanders  his  own 
hair  and  nails,  praying  them  to  pay  these  the  same 
honours  as  Boniface  claimed  for  the  relics  of  the 
Papacy.  Clement  smiled,  like  many  others,  at  Adal- 
bert's singular  argument ;  but  it  was  not  with  such 
arms  that  he  was  wont  to  fight.  Gifted  with  profound 
discernment,  he  had  remarked,  that  the  authority  of 
man  substituted  for  the  authority  of  God  was  the 
source  of  all  the  errors  of  Romanism.  At  the  same 
time    he    maintained    on     nredestination    what    the 


HISTORY  OF  THE  EEFORMATION. 


archbishop  called  "  horrible  doctrines,  contrary  to  the 
Catholic  faith."  Clemeut's  character  inclines  us  to 
believe  that  he  was  favourable  to  the  doctrine  of  pre- 
destination. A  century  later  the  pious  Gottschalk  was 
persecuted  by  one  of  Boniface's  successors  for  holding 
this  very  doctrine  of  Augustine's.  Thus,  then,  did  a 
Scotchman,  the  representative  of  the  ancient  faith  of 
his  country,  withstand  almost  unaided  in  the  centre  of 
Europe  the  invasion  of  the  Romans.  But  he  was  not 
long  alone  :  the  great  especially,  more  enlightened  than 
the  common  people,  thronged  around  him.  If  Clement 
had  succeeded,  a  Christian  church  would  have  been 
founded  on  the  continent  independent  of  the  Papacy. 

Boniface  was  confounded.  He  wished  to  do  in 
central  Europe  what  his  fellow-countryman  Wilfrid 
liad  done  in  England ;  and  at  the  very  moment  he 
fancied  he  was  advancing  from  triumph  to  triumph, 
victory  escaped  from  his  hands.  He  turned  against 
this  new  enemy,  and  applying  to  Charles  Martel's  sons, 
Pepin  and  Carloman,  he  obtained  their  consent  to  the 
assembling  of  a  council  before  which  he  summoned 
Clement  to  appear. 

The  bishops,  counts,  and  other  notabilities,  having 
met  at  Soissous  on  the  2d  March,  744,  Boniface  accused 
the  Scotchman  of  despising  the  laws  of  Rome,  the 
councils,  and  the  Fathers;  attacked  his  marriage, 
which  he  called  an  adulterous  union,  and  called  in 
question  some  secondary  points  of  doctrine.  Clement 
was  accordingly  excommunicated  by  Boniface,  at  once 
his  adversary,  accuser,  and  judge,  and  tlirown  into 
prison,  with  the  approbation  of  the  pope  and  the  king 
of  the  Franks. 

The  Scotchman's  cause  was  everywhere  taken  up ; 
accusations  were  brought  against  the  German  primate, 
his  persecuting  spirit  was  severely  condemned,  and  his 
exertions  for  the  triumph  of  the  papacy  were  resisted. 
Carloman  yielded  to  this  unanimous  movement.  The 
prison  doors  were  opened,  and  Clement  had  hardly 
crossed  the  threshold  before  he  began  to  protest  boldly 
against  human  authority  in  matters  of  faith  ;  the  Word 
of  God  is  the  only  rule.  Upon  this  Boniface  applied 
to  Rome  for  the  heretic's  condemnation,  and  accom- 
panied his  request  by  a  silver  cup  and  a  garment  of 
delicate  texture.  The  pope  decided  in  synod  that  if 
Clement  did  not  retract  his  errors,  he  should  be  deliv- 
ered up  to  everlasting  damnation,  and  then  requested 
Boniface  to  send  him  to  Rome  under  a  sure  guard. 
AVc  here  lose  all  traces  of  the  Scotchman ;  but  it  is 
easy  to  conjecture  what  must  have  been  his  fate. 

Clement  was  not  the  only  Briton  who  became  dis- 
tinguished in  this  contest.  Two  fellovz-countrymen, 
Sampson  and  Virgil,  who  preached  in  central  Europe, 
were,  in  like  manner,  persecuted  by  the  Church  of 
Rome.  Virgil,  anticipating  Galileo,  dared  maintain 
that  there  were  other  men  and  another  world  beneath 
our  feet.  He  was  denounced  by  Boniface  for  this 
Jieresy,  and  condemned  by  the  pope,  as  were  other 
Britons,  for  the  apostolical  simplicity  of  their  lives.  In 
813,  certain  Scotchmen,  who  called  themselves  bishops, 
says  a  canon,  having  appeared  before  a  council  of  the 
Roman  church  at  Clu'dons,  were  rejected  by  the  French 
prelates,  because,  like  St.  Paul,  t/iei/  woi-ked  ivith  their 
oivn  hands.  Those  enlightened  and  faithful  men  were 
superior  to  their  time :  Boniface  and  his  ecclesiastical 


materialism  were  better  fitted  for  an  age  in  which 
clerical  forms  were  regarded  as  the  substance  of 
religion. 

Even  Great  Britain,  although  its  light  was  not  so 
pure,  was  not  altogether  plunged  in  darkness.  The 
Anglo-Saxons  imprinted  on  their  church  certain  charac- 
teristics which  distinguished  it  from  that  of  Rome; 
several  books  of  the  Bible  were  translated  into  their 
tongue ;  and  daring  spirits  on  the  one  hand,  with  some 
pious  souls  on  the  other,  laboured  in  a  direction  hostile 
to  Popery. 

At  first  we  see  the  dawning  of  that  philosophic 
rationalism,  which  gives  out  a  certain  degree  of  bright- 
ness, but  which  can  neither  conquer  error,  nor  still  less 
establish  truth.  In  the  ninth  century  there  was  a 
learned  scholar  in  Ireland,  who  afterwards  settled  at 
the  court  of  Charles  the  Bald.  He  was  a  strange 
mysterious  man,  of  profound  thought,  and  as  much 
raised  above  the  doctors  of  his  age  by  the  boldness  of 
his  ideas,  as  Charlemagne  above  the  princes  of  his  day 
by  the  force  of  his  will.  John  Scot  Erigena — that  is, 
a  native  of  Ireland  and  not  of  Ayr,  as  some  have  sup- 
posed— was  a  meteor  in  the  theological  heavens.  With 
a  great  philosophic  genius  he  combined  a  cheerful  jest- 
ing disposition.  One  day,  while  seated  at  table  opposite 
to  Charles  the  Bald,  the  latter  archly  inquired  of  him : 
"What  is  the  distance  between  a  Scot  and  a  sotr' — 
"  The  width  of  the  table,"  was  his  ready  answer,  which 
drew  a  smile  from  the  king.  While  the  doctrine  of 
Bede,  Boniface,  and  even  Alcuin,  was  traditional,  ser- 
vile, and,  in  one  word,  Romanist,  that  of  Scot  was 
mystical,  philosophic,  free,  and  daring.  He  sought  for 
the  truth  not  in  the  Word  or  in  the  Church,  but  in 
himself: — "The  knowledge  of  ourselves  is  the  true 
source  of  religious  wisdom.  Every  creature  is  a  theo- 
phany — a  manifestation  of  God;  since  revelation  pre 
supposes  the  existence  of  truth,  it  is  this  truth,  which 
is  above  revelation,  with  which  man  must  set  himself 
in  immediate  relation,  leaving  him  at  liberty  to  shew 
afterwards  its  harmony  with  Scripture,  and  the  other 
theophauies.  We  must  first  employ  reason,  and  then 
authority.  Authority  proceeds  from  reason,  and  not 
reason  from  authority."  Yet  this  bold  thinker,  when 
on  his  knees,  could  give  way  to  aspirations  full  of 
piety:  "  0  Lord  Jesus,"  exclaimed  he,  "I  ask  no  other 
happiness  of  thee,  but  to  understand,  unmixed  with 
deceitful  theories,  the  Word  that  thou  hast  inspired  by 
thy  Holy  Spirit !  £jhew  thyself  to  those  who  ask  for 
thee  alone!"  But  while  Scot  rejected  on  the  one  hand 
certain  traditional  errors,  and  in  particular,  the  doc- 
trine of  transubstantiation,  which  was  creeping  into  the 
Church,  he  was  near  falling,  as  regards  God  and  the 
world,  into  other  errors  savouriug  of  Pantheism.  Tlie 
philosophic  rationalism  of  the  contemporary  of  Charles 
the  Bald — the  strange  product  of  one  of  the  obscurest 
periods  of  history  (850) — was  destined,  after  the  lapse  of 
many  centuries,  to  be  taught  once  more  in  Great  Britain 
as  a  modern  invention  of  the  most  enlightened  age. 

While  Scot  was  thus  plumbing  the  depths  of  phil- 
osophy, others  were  examining  their  Bibles ;  and  if 
thick  darkness  had  not  spread  over  these  first  glimpses 
of  the  dawn,  perhaps  the  Church  of  Great  Britain 
might  even  then  have  begun  to  labour  for  the  regenera- 
tion of  Christendom.     A  youthful  prince,  thirsting  for 


"WILLIAM  THE  CONQUEROR. 


jntellcctiial  enjoyments,  for  domestic  happiness,  and 
for  the  Word  of  God,  and  wlio  sought,  by  frequent 
prayer,  for  deliverance  from  the  bondage  of  sin,  had 
ascended  the  throne  of  AVcsscx,  in  the  year  871. 
Alfred  bcinj>-  convinced  that  Cliristianily  alone  could 
rightly  nioidd  a  nation,  assinibled  round  him  the  most 
learned  men  from  all  parts  of  Europe,  and  was  anxious 
that  the  English,  like  the  Hebrews,  Greeks,  and  Latins, 
should  possess  the  Holy  .Scripture  iu  their  own  lau- 
guagc.  He  is  the  real  patron  of  the  Biblical  work, — 
a  title  far  more  glorious  than  that  of  founder  of  the 
university  of  Oxford.  After  having  fought  more  than 
fifty  battles  by  laud  and  sea,  he  died  while  translating 
the  Psalms  of  David  for  his  subjects. 

After  this  gleam  of  light  thick  darkness  ouce  more 
settled  upon  Great  Britain.  Nine  Anglo-Saxon  kings 
ended  their  days  in  monasteries;  tliere  was  a  seminary 
in  Koine  from  which  every  year  fresh  scholars  bore  to 
England  the  new  forms  of  Popery;  the  celibacy  of 
priests,  that  cement  of  the  Romish  hierarchy,  was  estab- 
lished by  a  bull  about  the  close  of  the  tenth  century; 
convents  were  multiplied,  considerable  possessions  were 
bestowed  on  the  Church,  and  the  tax  of  Peter's  pence, 
laid  at  the  pontiff's  feet,  proclaimed  the  triumph  of  the 
papal  system.  But  a  reaction  soon  took  i)!ace:  England 
collected  her  forces  for  a  war  against  the  papacy,  a  war 
at  one  time  secular,  and  at  another  spiritual.  William 
of  Normandy,  Edward  III.,  Wickliffe,  and  the  Refor- 
mation, are  the  four  ascending  steps  of  Protestantism 
in  Eughind. 

A  proud,  enterprising,  and  far-sighted  prince,  the 
illegitimate  sou  of  a  peasant  girl  of  Falaise  and  Robert 
the  Devil,  duke  of  Normandy,  began  a  contest  with  the 
papacy  which  lasted  until  the  Reformation.  William 
the  Conqueror,  having  defeated  the  Saxons  at  Hastings, 
iu  lOCG  A.  D.,  took  possession  of  England,  under  the 
benediction  of  the  Roman  pontiff.  But  the  conquered 
country  was  destined  to  conquer  its  master.  William, 
who  had  invaded  England  iu  the  pope's  name,  had  no 
sooner  touched  the  soil  of  his  new  kingdom,  than  ho 
learned  to  resist  Rome,  as  if  the  aucieut  liberty  of  the 
British  Church  had  revived  in  him.  Being  firmly  re- 
solved to  allow  no  foreign  prince  or  prelate  to  possess 
iu  his  dominions  a  jurisdiction  independent  of  his  own, 
he  made  preparations  for  a  conquest  far  more  difficult 
thau  that  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  kingdom.  The  papacy 
itself  furnished  him  with  weapons.  The  Roman  legates 
prevailed  on  the  king  to  dispossess  the  English  episco- 
pacy in  a  mass,  and  this  was  exactly  what  he  wished. 
To  resist  the  papacy,  William  desired  to  be  sure  of  the 
submission  of  the  priests  of  England.  Stigand,  arch- 
bishop of  Canterbiu-y,  was  removed,  and  Laufranc  of 
Pavia,  who  had  been  summoned  from  Bee  in  Normandy 
to  fdl  his  place,  was  commissioned  by  the  conqueror  to 
bend  the  clergy  to  obedience.  This  prelate,  who  was 
regular  iu  his  life,  abundant  in  almsgiving,  a  learned 
disputant,  a  prudent  politician,  and  a  skilful  mediator, 
finding  that  he  had  to  choose  between  his  master  King 
William,  and  his  friend  the  pontiff  Hildebrand,  gave 
the  prince  the  preference.  He  refused  to  go  to  Rome, 
notwithstanding  the  threats  of  the  pope,  and  applied 
himself  resolutely  to  the  work  the  king  had  intrusted 
to  him.  The  Saxons  sometimes  resisted  the  Normans, 
as  the  Britons  had  resisted  the  Saxons ;  but  the  second 


struggle  was  less  glorious  than  the  first.  A  synod,  at 
which  the  kiug  was  present,  having  met  iu  the  abbey 
of  Westminster,  William  commanded  Wulston,  bishop 
of  AVorcester,  to  give  up  his  crozicr  to  him.  The  old 
wan  rose,  animated  with  holy  fervour:  •'  O  king!"  ho 
said,  "  from  a  better  man  thau  you  I  received  it,  and  to 
him  only  will  I  return  it."  Unhappily,  this  "  better 
man  "  was  not  Jesus  Christ.  Then  approaching  the 
tomb  of  Edward  the  Confessor,  he  continued :  "  O  my 
master,  it  was  you  who  compelled  me  to  assume  this 
ollice ;  but  now  behold  a  new  kiug  and  a  new  primate 
who  promulgate  new  laws.  Not  unto  them,  O  master, 
but  imto  you,  do  I  resign  my  crozier,  and  the  care  of 
my  flock."  AV'ith  these  words  AVulstou  laid  his  pas- 
toral staff  on  Edward's  tomb.  On  the  sepulchre  of  the 
Confessor  perished  the  liberty  of  the  Anglo-Saxon 
hierarchy.  The  deprived  Saxon  bishops  were  con- 
signed to  fortresses,  or  shut  up  in  convents. 

The  Conqueror  being  thus  assured  of  the  obedience 
of  the  bishops,  put  forward  the  supremacy  of  the 
sword  in  opposition  to  that  of  the  pope.  He  nomi- 
nated directly  to  all  vacaut  ecclesiastical  offices,  filled 
his  treasury  ^vith  the  riches  of  the  churches,  required 
that  all  priests  should  make  oath  to  him,  forbade  them 
to  excommunicate  his  officers  without  his  consent,  not 
even  for  incest,  and  declared  that  all  synodal  decisions 
must  be  countersigned  by  him.  "  I  claim,"  said  he  to 
the  archbishop  one  day,  raising  his  arras  towards 
heaven, — "  I  claim  to  hold  iu  this  hand  all  the  pastoral 
staffs  in  my  kiugdom."  Lanfranc  was  astonished  at 
this  daring  speech,  but  prudently  kept  silent,  for  a 
time  at  least.  Episcopacy  connived  at  the  royal  pre- 
tensions. 

AYill  Hildebrand,  the  most  inflexible  of  popes,  bend 
before  AVilliam?  The  king  was  earnest  in  his  desire 
to  enslave  the  Church  to  the  State;  the  pope  to  enslave 
the  State  to  the  Church :  the  collision  of  these  two 
mighty  champions  threatened  to  be  terrible.  But  the 
haughtiest  of  pontiffs  was  seen  to  yield  as  soon  as  he 
felt  the  mail-clad  hand  of  the  Conqueror,  and  to  shrink 
unresistingly  before  it.  The  pope  hlled  all  Christendom 
with  confusion,  that  he  might  deprive  princes  of  the 
right  of  investiture  to  ecclesiastical  dignities :  William 
would  not  permit  him  to  interfere  with  that  question 
in  England,  and  Hildebrand  submitted.  The  king  went 
even  farther :  the  pope,  wishing  to  enslave  the  clergy, 
deprived  the  priests  of  their  lawful  wives  ;  William  got 
a  decree  passed  by  the  council  of  AViuchester,  in  1076, 
to  the  effect  that  the  married  priests  living  in  castles 
and  towns  should  not  be  compelled  to  put  away  their 
wives.  This  was  too  much :  Hildebrand  summoned 
Lanfranc  to  Rome;  but  AA''illiam  forbade  him  to  go. 
"Never  did  king,  not  even  a  pagan,"  exclaimed 
Gregory,  "  attempt  against  the  holy  see  what  this  man 
docs  not  fear  to  carry  out  1"  .  .  .  To  console  him- 
self, he  demanded  payment  of  the  Peter's  pence,  and  an 
oath  of  fidelity.  William  sent  the  money,  but  refused 
the  homage ;  and  when  Hildebrand  saw  the  tribute 
which  the  king  had  paid,  he  said  bitterly:  "  AV^hat 
value  can  I  sot  on  money  which  is  contributed  with  so  , 
little  honour!"  AVilliam  forbade  his  clergy  to  recog- 
nise the  pope,  or  to  publish  a  bull  without  the  royal 
approbation ;  which  did  not  prevent  Hildebrand  from 
styling  him  '"the  pearl  of  princes."     "It  is  true,"  said 


576 

he  to  his  legate,  "  that  the  English  king  does  not  be- 
have in  certain  matters  so  religiously  as  wo  could 
desire.  .  .  .  Yet  beware  of  exasperating  him. 
.  .  .  We  shall  win  him  over  to  God  and  St.  Peter 
more  surely  by  mildness  and  reason  than  by  strictness 
or  severity."  In  this  manner  the  pope  acted  like  the 
archbishop — silutt:  he  was  silent.  It  is  for  feeble 
governments  that  Eome  reserves  her  energies. 

The  Norman  kings,  desirous  of  strengthening  their 
work,  constructed  Gothic  cathedrals  in  the  room  of 
wooden  churches,  in  which  they  installed  their  soldier- 
bishops,  as  if  they  were  strong  fortresses.  Instead  of 
the  moral  power  and  the  humble  crook  of  the  shepherd, 
tliey  gave  them  secular  power  and  a  staff.     The  reli- 


HISTORY  OP  THE  REFORMATION. 


^ 


■jliPlifJit 


glous  episcopate  was  succeeded  by  a  political  one. 
AVilliam  Kufus  went  even  to  greater  lengths  than  his 
father.  Taking  advantage  of  the  schism  which  divided 
the  papacy,  he  did  without  a  pope  for  ten  years,  leav- 
ing abbeys,  bishoprics,  and  even  Canterbury,  vacant, 
and  scandalously  squandering  their  revenues.  Ca3sar- 
opapia  (which  transforms  a  king  into  a  pope)  having 
thus  attained  its  greatest  excess,  a  sacerdotal  reaction 
could  not  fail  to  take  place. 

The  papacy  is  about  to  rise  up  again  in  England, 
and  royalty  to  decline — two  movements  which  are 
always  found  combined  in  Great  Britain. 


CHAPTER  V. 


-Becket's  Austerity— The  King  Scourged— John  te- 
les the  Pope's  Vassal— Collision  between  Popery  and  Liberty— The 
St\\  King  ravages  his  Kingdom — Religion  of  the  Senses  and  Super- 


\Ye  are  now  entering  upon  a  new  phase  of  history. 
Romanism  is  on  the  point  of  triumphing  by  tlie  exer- 
tions of  learned  men,  energetic  prelates,  and  princes  in 
whom  extreme  imprudence  was  joined  with  extreme 
servility.  This  is  the  era  of  the  dominion  of  Popery, 
and  we  shall  see  it  unscrupulously  employing  the 
despotism  by  which  it  is  characterized. 
A  malady  having  occasioned  some 
degree  of  remorse  in  the  king,  he  con- 
sented to  fill  up  the  vacancy  in  the 
archiepiscopal  see.  And  now  Ansclm 
first  appears  in  England.  He  was 
born  in  an  Alpine  valley,  at  the  town 
of  Aosta  in  Piedmont.  Imbibing  the 
instructions  of  his  pious  mother,  Ermen- 
berga,  and  believing  that  God's  throne 
was  placed  on  the  summit  of  the  gigan- 
tic mountains  he  saw  rising  arouud  him, 
j^  I  the  child  Anselm  climbed  them  in  his 

Jf  dreams,    and    received    the    bread    of 

heaven   from   the   hands   of  the  Lord. 
Unhappily,  in  after  years,  ho  recognised 
another  throne  in  the  Church  of  Christ, 
and  bowed  his  head  before  the  chair  of 
St.  Peter.     This  was  the  man  whom 
AVilliani  II.  summoned,  in  1093,  to  fill 
the  primacy  of  Canterbury.     Anselm, 
\\ho   was    tlicn    sixty  years    old,    and 
engaged  in  teaching  at  Bee,  refused  at 
first:  the  ciiaracter  of  Rufus  terrified 
him.     "The  Church  of  England,"  said     1 
he,  "  is  a  plough  that  ought  to  be  drawn 
by  two  oxen  of  equal  strength.     How     I 
can  you  yoke  together  an  old  and  timid     | 
sheep  like  me  and  that  wild  bull?"    At     j 
length  he  accepted,   and   concealing  a     | 
J^'^V-  I  mind  of  great  power  under  an  appear- 

ance of  humility,  he  had  hardly  arrived 
in  England  before  he  recognised  Pope 
Urban  II.,  demanded  the  estates  of  his     | 
see,  which  the  treasury  had  seized  upon,     ] 
refused  to  pay  the  king  the  sums  he  demanded,  con-     | 
tested  the  riglit  of  investiture  against  Henry  I.,  for- 
bade  all  ecclesiastics   to   take    the    feudal  oath,    and 
determined  that  the  priests  should  forthwith  put  away 
their  wives.     Scholasticism,  of  which  Anselm  was  tlio 
first  representative,  freed  the  Church  from  the  yoke  of 
royalty,  but  only  to  chain  it  to  the  papal  chair.     The 
fetters  were  about  to  be  riveted  by  a  still  more  ener- 
getic hand ;  and  what  this  great  theologian  had  begun, 
a  great  worldling  was  to  carry  on. 

At  the  hunting  parties  of  Henry  II.,  a  man  attracted 
the  attention  of  his  sovereign  by  his  air  of  frankness, 
agreeable  manners,  witty  conversation,  and  exuberant 
\'ivacity.  This  was  Thomas  Becket,  the  son  of  an 
Anglo-Saxon  and  a  Syrian  woman.     Being  both  priest 


BECKET  OPPOSES  THE  KING, 


577 


and  soldier,  he  was  appointed  at  the  snmc  time  by  the 
king  prebend  of  Hastings  and  governor  of  the  Tower. 
Wiien  nominated  chancellor  of  England,  he  sliewcd 
himself  no  less  expert  than  Wilfrid  in  misappropriating 
the  wealtii  of  the  minors  in  his  charge,  and  of  the 
abbeys  and  bishoprics,  and  indnlged  in  the  most  extra- 
vagant luxury.  Henry,  the  first  of  the  Plantagenets, 
a  man  of  undecided  character,  having  noticed  IJecket's 
zeal  in  upholding  the  prerogatives  of  the  crown,  ap- 
pointed him  archbishop  of  Canterbury.  "  Now,  sire," 
remarked  the  primate,  witii  a  smile,  "when  I  shall 
have  to  choose  between  God's  favour  and  yours,  remem- 
ber it  is  yours  tliat  I  shall  sacrifice." 

liccket,  who,  as  keeper  of  the  seals,  had  been 
the  most  magnificent  of  courtiers,  affected,  as 
archbishop,  to  be  the  most  venerable  of  saints. 
He  sent  back  the  seals  to  the  king,  assumed  the 
rolio  of  a  monk,  wore  sackcloth  filled  with  ver- 
min, lived  on  the  plainest  food,  every  day  knelt 
down  to  wash  the  feet  of  the  poor,  paced  the 
cloisters  of  his  cathedral  with  tearful  eyes,  and 
spent  hours  in  prayer  before  the  altar.  As 
eliampion  of  the  priests,  oven  in  their  crimes, 
he  took  under  his  protection  one  who  to  tlie 
crime  of  seduction  had  added  the  murder  of  his 
victim's  father. 

The  judges  having  represented  to  Henry,  that 
during  the  first  eight  years  of  his  reign  a  hundred 
murders  had  been  committed  by  ecclesiastics, 
the  king,  in  1164,  summoned  a  council  at  Clar- 
endon, in  which  certain  regulations  or  constitu- 
tions were  drawn  up,  with  the  object  of  prevent- 
ing the  eucroachmeuts  of  the  hierarchy.  Becket 
at  first  refused  to  sign  them,  but  at  length  con-  ^ 

sentcd,  and  then  withdrew  into  solitary  retire-  .^^ 

mcnt  to  mourn  over  his  fault.  Pope  Alexander 
HI.  released  him  from  his  oath ;  and  tlien  began 
a  fierce  and  long  struggle  between  the  king  and 
the  primate.  Four  knights  of  the  court,  catch- 
ing up  a  hasty  expression  of  their  master's,  barbarously 
murdered  the  archbishop  at  the  foot  of  the  altar  in 
his  own  cathedral  church,  (A.  D.,  1170.)  The  people 
looked  upon  Becket  as  a  saint :  immense  crowds  came 
to  pray  at  his  tomb,  at  which  many  miracles  were 
■worked.  "  Even  from  his  grave,"  said  Becket's  parti- 
sans, "he  rendered  his  testimony  in  behalf  of  the 
papacy." 

Henry  now  passed  from  one  extreme  to  the  other, 
lie  entered  Canterbury  barefooted,  and  prostrated 
himself  before  the  martyr's  tomb:  the  bishops,  priests, 
and  monks,  to  the  number  of  eighty,  passed  before 
him,  each  bearing  a  scourge,  and  struck  three  or  five 
blows,  according  to  their  rank,  on  the  naked  shoulders 
of  the  king.  In  former  ages,  so  the  priestly  fable 
ran,  St.  Peter  had  scourged  an  archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury; now  Rome,  in  sober  reality,  scourges  the  back  of 
royalty,  and  nothing  can  henceforth  check  her  victori- 
ous career.  A  Plantagenet  surrendered  England  to 
the  pope,  and  the  pope  gave  him  authority  to  subdue 
Ireland.' 

1  "  If  indeed  you  have  intimated,  dear  son,  that  you  wish  to  invade  Ireland 
to  subdue  that  people,  we  are  accordingly  well  pleased,  that  for  the  pur- 
pose of  extending  the  bounds  of  the  Church,  you  should  invade  that  island. " 
—Adrian  IV.,  Bulla  1151,  in  Bymcr,  Ada  rublica. 


Rome,  who  had  set  her  foot  on  the  neck  of  a  king, 
was  destined,  under  one  of  the  sons  of  Henry  II.,  to  set 
it  on  the  neck  of  Englan<l.  Jolin  being  unwilling  to 
acknowledge  an  archbishop  of  Canterbury  illegally 
nominated  by  Pope  Innocent  III.,  the  latter,  more 
daring  than  Ilildebrand,  laid  the  kingdom  under  an 
interdict.  Upon  this  John  ordered  all  the  prelates  and 
abbots  to  leave  England,  and  sent  a  monk  to  Spain 
as  ambassador  to  Mahomet-el-Nasir,  offering  to  turn 
Mohammedan,  and  to  become  his  vassal.  But  as 
Philip  Augustus  was  preparing  to  dethrone  him,  John 
made  up  his  mind  to  become  a  vassal  of  Innocent,  and 
not  of  Mohammed — which  was  about  the  same  thing 


fH^W  TPI'BfUlpfl 


THOMAS  A   BECKET S  CHAPEL 

to  him  On  the  loth  Ma},  1213,  he  hid  his  crown  at 
the  kgate  b  feet,  declaied  that  he  suneudeied  his  king- 
dom of  England  to  the  pope,  and  made  oath  to  him  as 
to  his  lord  paramount. 

A  national  protest  then  boldly  claimed  the  ancient 
liberties  of  the  people.  Forty-five  barons,  armed  in 
complete  mall,  and  mounted  on  their  noble  war-horses, 
surrounded  by  their  knights  and  servants,  and  about 
two  thousand  soldiers,  met  at  Brackley  during  the 
festival  of  Easter  in  1215,  and  sent  a  deputation  to 
Oxford,  where  the  court  then  resided.  "  Here,"  said 
they  to  the  king,  "  is  the  charter  which  consecrates  the 
liberties  confirmed  by  Henry  II.,  and  which  you  also 
have  solemnly  sworn  to  observe."     ..."  Why  do 

biJjteudoc  WC  tuV  ctvm  \t'tmnf  mc\xv  evm  wwornn* 
tiifi^  feadz  vabtm  mmm^  vXv  ttgevx  teit  P. 


CLAUSE  OF  MAGNA  CHARTA. 


578 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


they  not  demand  my  crown  also  ?"  said  the  king  in  a 
furious  passion,  and  then,  with  an  oath,  he  added:  "I 
will  not  grant  them  liberties  which  will  make  me  a 
Blavc."  This  is  the  usual  language  of  weak  and  abso- 
lute kings.  Neither  would  the  nation  submit  to  be 
enslaved.  The  barons  occupied  London,  and  on  the 
15th  June,  1215,  the  king  signed  the  famous  3Ia;pia 
C/iarta  at  Rimnymcde.  The  political  Protestantism  of 
the  thirteenth  century  would  have  done  but  little,  how- 
ever, for  the  greatness  of  the  nation,  without  the  reli- 
gious Protestantism  of  the  sixteenth. 

This  was  the  first  time  that  the  Papacy  came  into 
collision  with  modern  liberty.  It  shuddered  in  alarm, 
and  the  shock  was  violent.  Innocent  swore,  (as  was 
his  custom.)  and  then  declared  the  Great  Charter  null 
and  void,  forbade  the  king,  under  pain  of  anathema,  to 
respect  the  liberties  which  he  had  confirmed ;  ascribed 
the  conduct  of  the  barons  to  the  instigation  of  Satan, 
and  ordered  them  to  make  apology  to  the  king,  and  to 
send  a  deputation  to  Rome  to  learn  from  the  mouth  of 
the  pope  himself  what  should  be  the  government  of 
England.  This  was  the  way  in  which  the  Papacy 
welcomed  the  first  manifestations  of  liberty  among  the 
nations,  and  made  known  the  model  system  under 
which  it  claimed  to  govern  the  whole  world. 

The  priests  of  England  supported  the  anathemas 
pronounced  by  their  chief.  They  indulged  in  a  thou- 
sand jeers  and  sarcasms  against  John  about  the  charter 
he  had  accepted : — "  This  is  the  twenty-fifth  king  of 
England — not  a  king,  not  even  a  kingling — but  the 
disgrace  of  kings — a  king  without  a  kingdom — the 
fifth  wheel  of  a  waggon — the  last  of  kings,  and  the  dis- 
grace of  his  people ! — I  would  not  give  a  straw  for  him. 
.  .  .  Fiiisti  rex,  nunc  fex  (once  a  king,  but  now  a 
clown)."  John,  unable  to  support  his  disgi-ace,  groaned 
and  gnashed  his  teeth,  aud  rolled  his  eyes,  tore  sticks 
from  the  hedges  and  gnawed  them  like  a  maniac,  or 
dashed  them  into  fragments  on  the  ground. 

The  barons,  unmoved  alike  by  the  insolence  of  the 
pope  and  the  despair  of  the  king,  replied  that  they 
would  maintain  the  charter.  Innocent  excommuni- 
cated them.  "Is  it  the  pope's  business  to  regulate 
temporal  matters?"  asked  they.  " By  what  right  do 
vile  usurers  and  foul  simoniacs  domineer  over  our  coun- 
try, aud  excommunicate  the  whole  world '?" 

The  pope  soon  triumphed  throughout  England.  His 
vassal  Jolm  having  hired  some  bands  of  adventurers 
from  the  Continent,  traversed  at  their  head  the  whole 
country  from  the  Channel  to  the  Forth.  These  mer- 
cenaries carried  desolation  in  their  track  :  they  extorted 
money,  made  prisoners,  burnt  the  barons'  castles,  laid 
waste  their  parks,  aud  dishonoured  their  wives  and 
daughters.  The  king  would  sleep  in  a  house,  and  the 
next  morning  set  fire  to  it.  Blood-stained  assassins 
scoured  the  country  during  the  night,  the  sword  in  one 
hand  and  the  torch  in  the  other,  marking  their  pro- 
gress by  murder  and  conflagration.  Such  was  the 
enthronization  of  Popery  in  England.  At  this  sight, 
the  barons,  overcome  by  emotion,  denounced  both  the 
king  aud  the  pope:  "Alas,  poor  country!"  they  ex- 
claimed. "Wretched  England!  .  .  .  And  thou, 
O  pope,  a  curse  light  upon  thee !" 

The  curse  was  not  long  delayed.  As  the  king  was 
returning  from  some    more   than   usually   successful 


foray,  and  as  the  royal  waggons  were  crossing  the 
sands  of  the  Wash,  the  tide  rose  and  all  sank  in  the 
abyss.  This  accident  filled  John  with  terror :  it  seemed 
to  him  that  the  earth  was  about  to  open  and  swallow 
him  up  ;  he  fled  to  a  convent,  where  he  drank  copiously 
of  cider,  and  died  of  drunkenness  and  fright. 

Such  was  the  end  of  the  pope's  vassal — of  his  armed 
missionary  in  Great  Britain.  Never  had  so  vile  a 
prince  been  the  involuntary  occasion  to  his  people  of 
such  great  benefits.  From  his  reign  England  may  date 
her  enthusiasm  for  liberty  and  her  dread  of  Popery. 

During  this  time  a  great  transformation  had  been 
accomplished.  Magnificent  churches  and  the  marvels 
of  religious  art,  with  ceremonies  and  a  multitude  of 
prayers  and  chantings,  dazzled  the  eyes,  charmed  the 
ears,  and  captivated  the  senses  ;  but  testified  also  to  the 
absence  of  every  strong  moral  and  Christian  disposi- 
tion, and  the  predominance  of  worldliness  in  the 
Church.  At  the  same  time  the  adoration  of  images 
and  relics,  saints,  angels,  and  Mary  the  mother  of  God, 
the  worships  of  latria,  doulia,  and  linpenlouUa,^  the  real 
Mediator  transported  from  the  throne  of  mercy  to  the 
seat  of  vengeance,  at  once  indicated  and  kept  up  among 
the  people  that  ignorance  of  truth  and  absence  of  grace 
which  characterize  Popery.  All  these  errors  tended  to 
bring  about  a  reaction  :  and,  in  fact,  the  march  of  the 
Reformation  may  now  be  said  to  begin. 

England  had  been  brought  low  by  the  Papacy:  it 
rose  up  again  by  resisting  Rome.  Grostete,  Bradwar- 
dine,  and  Edward  III.,  prepared  the  way  for  Wickliffe, 
and  Wickliffe  for  the  Reformation. 


CHAPTER  \^. 

Eeaetion— Groslete— Prinoiplea  of  Reform— Contest  with  the  Pope— Sewal 
— Progress  of  the  Nation — Opposition  to  the  Papacy — Conversion  of 
Bradwardiue— Grace  is  Supreme— Edward  III.— Statutes  of  Provisors 
ami  Prcenninire. 

In  the  reign  of  Henry  III.,  son  of  John,  while  the  king 
was  conniving  at  the  usurpations  of  Rome,  and  the 
pope  ridiculing  the  complaints  of  the  barons,  a  pious 
and  energetic  man,  of  comprehensive  understanding, 
was  occupied  in  the  study  of  the  Holy  Scriptures  iu 
their  original  languages,  and  bowing  to  their  sovereign 
autliority.  Robert  Grostete  (Grcathead  or  Capita)  was 
born  of  poor  parents,  in  the  county  of  Lincolnshire;  and 
being  raised  to  the  see  of  Lincoln  in  1235,  when  he 
was  sixty  years  of  age,  he  boldly  undertook  to  reform 
his  diocese,  one  of  the  largest  in  England.  Nor  was 
tills  all.  At  the  very  time  when  the  Roman  pontitT, 
who  had  hitherto  been  content  to  be  called  the  vicar 
of  St.  Peter,  proclaimed  himself  the  vicar  of  God,  aud 
was  ordering  the  English  bishops  to  find  benefices  for 
three  liundred  Romans,  Grostete  was  declaring  that  "  to 
follow  a  pope  who  rebels  against  the  will  of  Christ,  is 
to  separate  from  Christ  and  His  body;  and  if  ever  the 
time  should  come  when  all  men  follow  an  erring  pon- 
tiff, then  will  be  the  great  apostasy, — then  will  true 

1  The  Romish  churcli  distinguishes  three  kinds  of  worsliip :  latria,  that 
paid  to  God;  doulUi,  to  saints ;  and  hT/pcrdouUa,  to  the  Virgin  Mai-y. 


OPPOSITION  TO  THE  POPE. 


Cliiistimis  refuse  to  obey,  and  Komc  will  bo  the  cause 
of  au  unprecedented  scliisni."  Thus  did  he  predict  the 
Iveforniation.  Disgusted  at  the  avarice  of  the  monks 
and  priests,  lie  visited  Konio  to  demand  a  reform. 
"  Brother,"  said  Innocent  IV.  to  him,  with  some  irri- 
tation, "w  tliine  ci/e  en'/,  because  I  am  goodf  The 
Englisli  bishop  exclaimed,  with  a  sigh:  "O  money, 
money!  how  great  is  thy  power — especially  in  this 
court  of  Komc!" 

A  year  had  scarcely  elapsed  before  Iimocout  com- 
manded the  bishop  to  give  a  canonry  in  Lincoln  cathe- 
dral to  his  infant  nephew.  Grostcte  replied :  "After  the 
sin  of  Lucifer,  there  is  none  more  opposed  to  the  Gospel 
than  that  which  ruins  souls  by  giving  them  a  faithless 
minister.  Bad  pastors  are  the  cause  of  unbelief,  heresy, 
and  disorder.  Those  who  introduce  them  into  the 
Ciiurch  are  little  bettor  than  antichrists,  and  their  cul- 
pabih'ty  is  in  proportion  to  their  dignity.  Although 
the  chief  of  the  angels  should  order  me  to  commit  such 
a  sin,  I  would  refuse.  My  obedience  forbids  me  to 
obey;  and  therefore  I  rebel." 

Thus  spoke  a  bishop  to  his  pontiff:  his  obedience  to 
the  Word  of  God  forbade  him  to  obey  the  pope.  This 
was  the  principle  of  the  Reformation.  "Who  is  this 
old  driveller,  that  in  his  dotage  dares  to  judge  of  my 
conduct i"  exclaimed  Innocent,  whose  wrath  was  ap- 
peased by  the  intervention  of  certain  cardinals.  Gros- 
tOte  on  his  dying  bed  professed  still  more  clearly  the 
principles  of  the  reformers  ;  he  declared  that  a  heresy 
was  "an  opinion  conceived  by  carnal  motives,  contrary 
to  Scripture,  openly  taught  and  obstinately  defended," 
thus  asserting  the  authority  of  Scripture  instead  of  the 
authority  of  the  Church.  He  died  in  peace,  and  the 
public  voice  proclaimed  him  "  a  searcher  of  the  Scrip- 
tures, an  adversary  of  the  pope,  and  despiser  of  the 
Komaus."  Innocent,  desii'ing  to  take  vengeance  on  his 
bones,  meditated  the  exhumation  of  his  body,  when  one 
night  (says  Matthew  of  Paris)  the  bishop  appeared 
before  him.  Drawing  near  the  pontiff's  bed,  he  struck 
him  with  bis  crozier,  and  thus  addressed  him  with 
terrible  voice  and  threatening  look :  "  Wretch !  the 
Lord  doth  not  permit  thee  to  have  any  power  over  me. 
Woe  be  to  thee !"  The  vision  disappeared,  and  the 
pope,  uttering  a  cry  as  if  he  had  been  struck  by  some 
sharp  weapon,  lay  senseless  on  his  couch.  Never  after 
did  he  pajs  a  quiet  night,  and  pursued  by  the  phantoms 
of  his  troubled  imagination,  he  expired  while  the  palace 
re-echoed  with  his  lamentable  gi-oans. 

Grostcte  was  not  single  in  his  opposition  to  the  pope. 
Sewal,  aichbishop  of  York,  did  the  same;  and  "the 
more  the  pope  cursed  him,  the  more  the  people  blessed 
liini."  "  Moderate  your  tjTanny,"  said  the  archbishop 
to  the  pontitf ;  "for  the  Lord  said  to  Peter,  Feed  my 
sheep,  and  not  s/iear  them,  fiwj  them,  or  devour  them." 
The  pope  smiled  and  let  the  bishop  speak,  because  the 
king  allowed  the  pope  to  act.  The  power  of  England, 
which  was  constantly  increasing,  was  soon  able  to  give 
more  force  to  these  protests. 

The  nation  was  indeed  growing  in  greatness.  The 
madness  of  John,  which  had  caused  the  English  people 
to  lose  their  continental  possessions,  had  given  them 
more  unity  and  power.  The  Norman  kings,  being 
compelled  to  renounce  entirely  the  country  which  bad 
been  their  cradle,  had  at  length  made  up  their  minds 


to  look  upon  England  .is  their  home.  The  two  races, 
so  long  hostile,  melted  one  into  the  other.  Free 
institutions  were  formed ;  the  laws  were  studied  ;  and 
colleges  were  founded.  The  language  began  to  assume 
a  regular  form,  and  the  ships  of  England  were  already 
formidable  at  sea.  For  more  than  a  century  the  most 
brilliant  victories  attended  the  British  armies.  A  king 
of  Fi'ance  was  brought  captive  to  London :  an  English 
king  was  crowned  at  Paris.  Even  Spain  and  Italy 
felt  the  valour  of  these  prond  islanders.  The  English 
people  took  their  station  in  the  foremost  rank.  Now 
the  character  of  a  nation  is  never  raised  by  halves. 
AVhen  the  mighty  ones  of  the  earth  were  seen  to  fall 
before  her,  England  could  no  longer  crawl  at  the  feet 
of  an  Italian  priest. 

At  no  period  did  her  laws  attack  the  papacy  with 
so  much  energy.  At  the  beginning  of  the  fourteenth 
century  an  Englishman  having  bi'ought  to  Loudon  one 
of  the  pope's  bulls — a  bull  of  an  entirely  spiritual 
character,  it  was  an  excommunication — was  prosecuted 
as  a  traitor  to  the  crown,  and  would  have  been  hanged, 
had  not  the  sentence,  at  the  chancellor's  intercession, 
been  changed  to  perpetual  banishment.  The  common 
law  was  the  weapon  the  government  then  opposed  to 
the  papal  bulls.  Shortly  afterwards,  in  1307,  King 
Edward  ordered  the  sheriffs  to  resist  the  arrogant  pre- 
tensions of  the  Komish  agents.  But  it  is  to  two  great 
men  in  the  fourteenth  century,  equally  illustrious,  the 
one  in  the  State,  and  the  otiier  in  the  Church,  that 
England  is  indebted  for  the  development  of  the  Pro- 
testant element  in  England. 

In  13iG,  an  English  army,  34,000  strong,  met  face 
to  face,  at  Crecy,  a  French  army  of  100,000  fighting 
men.  Two  individuals  of  very  different  characters 
were  in  the  English  host.  One  of  them  was  King 
Edward  III.,  a  brave  and  ambitious  prince,  who,  being 
resolved  to  recover  for  the  royal  authority  all  its  power, 
and  for  England  all  her  glory,  bad  undertaken  the 
conquest  of  France.  The  other  was  his  chaplain  Brad- 
wardine,  a  man  of  so  humble  a  character  that  his  meek- 
ness was  often  taken  for  stupidity.  And  thus  it  was 
that  on  his  receiving  the  pallium  at  Avignon  from  the 
hands  of  the  pope,  on  his  elevation  to  the  see  of  Can- 
terbury, a  jester  mounted  on  an  ass  rode  into  the  hall, 
and  petitioned  the  pontiff  to  make  him  primate  instead 
of  that  imbecile  priest. 

Bradwardine  was  one  of  the  most  pious  men  of  the 
age,  and  to  his  prayers  his  sovereign's  victories  were 
ascribed.  He  was  also  one  of  the  greatest  geniuses 
of  his  time,  and  occupied  the  first  rank  among  as- 
tronomers, philosophers,  and  mathematicians.  The 
pride  of  science  had  at  first  alienated  him  from  the 
doctrine  of  the  cross.  But  one  day  while  in  the  house 
of  God,  and  listening  to  the  reading  of  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures, these  words  struck  his  ear:  It  is  not  of  him  that 
tvilleih,  nor  of  him  that  runneth,  hut  of  God  that  sheweth 
mercy.  His  ungrateful  heart,  he  tells  us,  at  first  re- 
jected this  humiliating  doctrine  with  aversion.  Yet 
the  Word  of  God  had  laid  its  powerful  hold  upon  him; 
he  was  converted  to  the  truths  be  had  despised,  and 
immediately  began  to  set  fortii  the  doctrines  of  eternal 
grace  at  Merton  College,  Oxford.  He  had  drunk  so 
deep  at  the  fountain  of  Scripture  that  the  traditions  of 
men  concerned  him  but  little,  and  he  was  so  absorbed 


HISTORY  OF  THE  EEFOEMATION. 


in  adoration  in  spirit  and  in  truth,  that  he  remarked 
not  outward  superstitious.  His  lectures  were  eagerly 
listened  to,  and  circulated  through  all  Europe.  The 
grace  of  God  was  their  very  essence,  as  it  was  of 
flie  Keformation.  With  sorrow  Bradwardiue  beheld 
Pelagianism  everywhere  substituting  a  mere  religion  of 
externals  for  inward  Christianity,  and  on  his  knees  he 
struggled  for  the  salvation  of  the  Church.  "As  in  the 
times  of  old  four  hundred  and  fifty  prophets  of  Baal 
strove  against  a  single  prophet  of  God;  so  now,  O 
Lord,"  he  exclaimed,  "the  number  of  those  who  strive 
with  Pelagius  against  thy  free  grace  cannot  be  c'ounted. 
They  pretend  not  to  receive  grace  freely,  but  to  buy  it. 
The  will  of  men  (they  say)  should  precede,  and  thine 
should  follow :  theirs  is  the  mistress,  and  thine  the 
servant.  ,  .  .  Alas !  nearly  the  whole  world  is 
walking  in  error  in  the  steps  of  Pelagius.  Arise,  O 
Lord,  and  judge  thy  cause."  And  the  Lord  did  arise, 
but  not  until  after  the  death  of  this  jiious  archbishop, 
in  the  days  of  AVickliffe,  who  when  a  youth  listened 
to  the  lectures  at  Morton  College,  and  especially  in  the 
days  of  Luther  and  of  Calvin.  His  contemporaries 
gave  him  the  name  of  tlio  nr^'t'nni'l  (1,,-tnr. 


LINCOLN    CATHEDRAL     CHAPTER    HOUSE 

If  BraJwardine  walked  truthfully  in  the  patli  of 
faith,  his  illustrious  patron,  Edward,  advanced  trium- 
phantly in  the  field  of  policy.  Pope  Clement  IV. 
having  decreed  that  the  first  two  vacancies  in  the 
Anglican  Church  should  be  conferred  on  two  of  his 
cardinals:  "France  is  becoming  EmjUsh,"  said  the 
courtiers  to  the  king;  "and  by  way  of  compensation, 
England  is  becoming  Italian."  Edward,  desirous  of 
guaranteeing  the  religious  liberties  of  England,  passed, 
with  the  consent  of  parliament,  in  1350,  the  statute  of 
Provisors,  which  made  void  every  ecclesiastical  appoint- 
ment contrary  to  the  rights  of  the  king,  the  chapters, 
or  the  patrons.  Thus  the  privileges  of  the  chapters 
and  the  liberty  of  the  English  Catholics,  as  well  as  the 
independence  of  the  crown,  were  protected  against  the 
invasion  of  foreigners ;  and  imprisonment  or  banish- 
ment for  life  was  denounced  upon  all  offenders  against 
the  law. 


This  bold  step  alarmed  the  pontiff.  Accordingly, 
three  years  after,  the  king  having  nominated  one  of 
his  secretaries  to  the  see  of  Durham — a  man  without 
any  of  the  qualities  becoming  a  bishop — the  pope 
readily  confirmed  the  appointment.  When  some  one 
expressed  his  astonishment  at  this,  the  pope  made 
answer:  "If  the  King  of  England  had  nominated  «« 
ass,  I  would  have  accepted  him."  This  may  remind 
us  of  the  ass  of  Avignon  ;  and  it  would  seem  that  this 
humble  animal  at  that  time  played  a  significant  part  in 
the  elections  to  the  papacy.  But  be  that  as  it  may, 
the  pope  withdrew  his  pretensions.  "Empires  have 
their  term,"  observes  an  historian  at  this  place;  "when 
once  they  have  reached  it,  they  halt,  they  retrograde, 
they  fall." 

The  term  seemed  to  be  drawing  nearer  every  day. 
In  the  reign  of  Edward  III.,  between  1343  and  1353, 
again  in  13Gi,  and  finally  under  Richard  II.,  in  1393, 
those  stringent  laws  were  passed  which  interdicted  all 
appeal  to  the  court  of  Rome,  all  bulls  from  the  Roman 
bishop,  all  excommunications,  &c.,  in  a  word,  every 
act  infringing  on  the  rights  of  the  crown;  and  declared 
that  whoever  should  bring  such  documents  into  England, 
or  receive,  publish,  or  execute  them,  should  be  put  out 
of  the  king's  protection,  deprived  of  their  property. 


DRASENOSE  COLLEGE  OXFORD 

attached  m  then  \  li  oni  an  1  1  i  u  lit  btf  ic  the  kiog 
in  conned  to  uiukigo  then  tml  accoiding  to  the  teuns 
of  the  act      feueh  was  the  statute  of  Pi  imuniie  ' 

Great  was  the  indignation  of  the  Romans  at  the 
news  of  this  law :  "  If  the  statute  of  mortmain  put  the 
pope  into  a  sweat,"  says  Fuller,  "  this  of  prwrniinire 
gave  him  a  fit  of  fever."  One  pope  called  it  an 
"execrable  statute," — "a  horrible  crime."  Such  are 
the  terms  applied  by  the  pontiffs  to  all  that  thwarts 
their  ambition. 

Of  the  two  wars  carried  on  by  Edward — the  one 
against  the  King  of  France,  and  the  other  against 
Popery — the  latter  was  the  most  righteous  and  impor- 
tant.     The  benefits  which  this  prince  had  hoped  to 

1  The  most  natm-al  meaning  ot  the  word  pnatmnirc  (given  more  partiea- 
lavly  to  the  Act  ot  1393)  seems  to  be  that  suggested  hy  Fuller,  cent,  xiv., 
(!>.  148 :)  "  to  fence  and  fortify  the  regal  power  from  foreign  assault "  See 
the  whole  bill,  iUcl,  p.  145-147. 


THE  BEGGING  FRIARS. 


derive  from  his  brilliant  victories  at  Crocy  and  Poicticrs 
dwiudled  away  almost  entirely  before  liis  death ;  ■while 
his  struggles  with  the  papacy,  founded  as  they  were 
on  truth,  have  exerted  even  to  our  own  days  an  indis- 
putable influence  on  the  destinies  of  Great  Britain. 
Yet  the  prayers  and  the  conquests  of  Bradwardinc, 
who  proclaimed  in  that  fallen  age  the  doctrine  of  grace, 
produced  effects  still  greater,  not  only  for  the  salvation 
of  many  souls,  but  for  the  liberty,  moral  force,  and 
greatness  of  England. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Tlie  Slcmlicnnt  Friars— Tlicir  Disorders  and  Topular  Indignation— WiiklilTi; 
— Uis  Success  — Sreechcs  ot  tlie  Peers  against  tlie  Papal  Tribute- 
Agreement  of  Cruges— Courtenay  and  Lancaster— WicklitTe  before  tlie 
Convocation — Altercation  between  Lancaster  and  Courtenay — Riot- 
Three  Briefs  against  WickiilTe— Wickliffe  at  Lambeth— Mission  of  the 
Poor  PricsU—lhQk  PrcadiiDgs  and  Persecutions — "WiekliCTc  and  the 
Four  Regents. 

Thus  in  the  first  half  of  the  fourteenth  century,  nearly 
two  hundred  years  before  the  Eoformation,  Eugland 
appeared  weary  of  the  yoke  of  Kome.  Bradwardlne 
was  no  more ;  but  a  man  who  had  been  his  disciple 
was  about  to  succeed  him,  and  without  attaining  to  the 
highest  functions,  to  exhibit  in  his  person  the  past  and 
future  tendencies  of  the  Church  of  Christ  iu  Great 
Britain.  The  English  Reformation  did  not  begin  with 
Henry  VIII. :  the  revival  of  the  sixteenth  century  is 
but  a  link  in  the  chain  commencing  with  the  Apostles 
and  reaching  to  us. 

The  resistance  of  Edward  III.  to  the  papacy  tcitlioui 
had  not  suppressed  the  papacy  rcilhin.  The  mendicant 
ft-iars,  and  particularly  the  Franciscans,  those  fanatical 
soldiers  of  the  pope,  were  endeavouring,  by  pious  frauds, 
to  monopolize  the  wealth  of  the  country.  "Every 
year,"  said  they,  "St.  Francis  descends  from  heaven 
to  purgatory,  and  delivers  the  souls  of  all  those  who 
were  buried  in  the  dress  of  his  order."  These  friars 
used  to  kidnap  children  from  their  parents,  and  shut 
them  up  in  monasteries.  They  affected  to  be  poor,  and 
with  a  wallet  on  their  back,  begged  with  a  piteous  air 
from  both  high  and  low;  but  at  the  same  time  they 
dwelt  in  palaces,  heaped  up  treasures,  dressed  in  costly 
garments,  and  wasted  their  time  in  luxurious  enter- 
tainments. The  least  of  them  looked  upon  themselves 
as  lords,  and  those  who  wore  the  doctor's  cap  considered 
themselves  kinfjf.  While  they  diverted  themselves, 
eating  and  drinking  at  their  well-spread  tables,  they 
used  to  send  ignorant  uneducated  persons  in  their  place 
to  preach  fables  and  legends  to  amuse  and  plunder  the 
people.  If  any  rich  man  talked  of  giving  alms  to  the 
poor  and  not  to  the  monks,  they  exclaimed  loudly 
against  such  impiety,  and  declared  with  threatening 
voices :  "  If  you  do  so  we  will  leave  the  country,  and 
return  accompanied  by  a  legion  of  glittering  helmets." 
Public  indignation  was  at  its  height.  "  The  monks 
and  priests  of  Rome,"  w^as  the  cry,  "are  eating  us 
away  like  a  cancer.  God  must  deliver  us,  or  the  people 
will  perish.     .     .     .     Woe  be  to  them !     The  cup  of 


wrath  will  run  over.  Men  of  holy  Church  shall  be 
despised  as  carrion,  as  dogs  shall  they  be  cast  out  iu 
open  places."' 

The  arrogance  of  Rome  made  the  cup  run  over. 
Pope  Urban  V.,  heedless  of  the  laurels  won  by  the 
conqueror  at  Crecy  and  Poicticrs,  summoned  Edward 
III.  to  recognise  him  as  legitimate  sovereign  of  Eng- 
land, and  to  pay  as  feudal  tribute  the  annual  rent  of 
one  thousand  marcs.  In  case  of  refusal  the  king  was 
to  appear  before  him  at  Rome.  For  thirty-three  years 
the  popes  had  never  mentioned  the  tribute  accorded  by 
John  to  Innocent  III.,  .and  which  had  always  beeu 
paid  very  irregularly.  The  conqueror  of  the  Valois 
was  irritated  by  this  insolence  on  the  part  of  an  Italian 
bishop,  and  called  on  GQd_tp  avenge  England.  From 
Oxford  came  forth  the  avenger. 


{Frora 


I  original  in  the  Cdkction  o/llu  Dulce  of  Dorset.) 


John  Wickliffe,  born  in  1324,  in  a  little  village  in 
Yorkshire,  was  one  of  the  students  who  attended  the 
lectures  of  the  pious  Bradwardinc  at  Merton  College. 
He  was  in  the  flower  of  his  age,  and  produced  a  great 
sensation  in  the  university.  In  1348,  a  terrible  pesti- 
lence, which  is  said  to  have  carried  off  half  the  hiunaa 
race,  appeared  in  England  after  successively  devasta- 
ting Asia  and  the  continent  of  Europe.  This  visitation 
of  the  Almighty  sounded  like  the  trumpet  of  the  judg- 
ment-day in  the  heart  of  Wickliffe.  Alarmed  at  the 
thoughts  of  eternity,  the  young  man — for  he  was  then 
only  twenty-four  years  old — passed  days  and  nights  in 
his  coll  groaning  and  sighing,  and  calling  upon  God  to 
shew  him  the  path  he  ought  to  follow.  He  found  it 
in  the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  resolved  to  make  it  known 
to  others.  He  commenced  with  prudence ;  but  being 
elected,  in  13G1,  warden  of  Balliol,  and  in  1365  warden 
of  Canterbury  college  also,  ho  began  to  sot  forth  the 
doctrine  of  faith  in  a  more  energetic  manner.  His 
biblical  and  philosophical  studies,  his  knowledge  of 

1  Wickliffe,  "  The  Last  Age  of  the  Church." 


HISTORY  OP  THE  REFORMATION. 


tlieolog)',  his  peuetratiug  mind,  tlie  purity  of  his 
manners,  ami  his  unbending  courage,  rendefed  him 
tlic  object  of  general  admiration.  A  profound  teacher, 
like  his  master,  and  an  eloquent  preacher,  he  demon- 
strated to  the  learned  during  the  course  of  the  week 
what  he  intended  to  preach,  and  on  Sunday  he  preached 
to  the  people  what  he  had  previously  demonstrated. 
His  disputations  gave  strength  to  his  sermons,  and  his 
sermons  shed  light  upon  his  disputations.  He  accused 
the  clergy  of  having  banished  the  Holy  Scriptures,  and 
required  that  the  authority  of  the  "Word  of  God  should 
be  re-established  in  the  Church.  Loud  acclamations 
crowned  these  discussions,  and  the  crowd  of  vulgar 
minds  trembled  with  indignation  when  they  heard 
these  shouts  of  applause. 

Wickliffe  was  forty  years  old  when  the  papal  arro- 
gance stirred  England  to  its  depths.  Being  at  once  an 
able  politician  and  a  fervent  Christian,  he  vigorously 
defended  the  rights  of  the  crown  against  the  Romish 
aggression,  and  by  his  arguments  not  only  enlightened 
his  fellow-countrymen  generally,  but  stirred  up  the 
zeal  of  several  members  of  both  houses  of  parliament. 

The  parliament  assembled,  and  never  perhaps  had  it 
been  summoned  on  a  question  which  excited  to  so 
high  a  degree  the  emotions  of  England,  and  indeed 
of  Christendom.  The  debates  in  the  House  of  Lords 
were  especially  remarkable :  all  the  arguments  of  Wick- 
liffe were  reproduced.  "Feudal  tribute  is  due,"  said 
one,  "  ouly  to  him  who  can  grant  feudal  iwotection  in 
return.  Now,  how  can  the  pope  wage  war  to  protect 
his  fiefs?" — "Is  it  as  vassal  of  the  crown,  or  as  feudal 
superior,"  asked  another,  "  that  the  pope  demauds  part 
of  our  property?  Urban  Y.  will  not  accept  the  first 
of  these  titles.  .  .  .  "Well  and  good  !  but  the  Eng- 
lish people  will  not  acknowledge  the  second." — "  Wli}'," 
said  a  third,  "  was  this  tribute  originally  granted?  To 
pay  the  pope  for  absolving  John.  .  .  .  His  demand, 
then,  is  mere  simony,  a  kind  of  clerical  swindling, 
which  the  lords  spiritual  and  temporal  should  indig- 
nantly oppose." — '-No,"  said  another  speaker,  "Eng- 
land belongs  not  to  the  pope.  The  pope  is  but  a  man, 
subject  to  sin ;  but  Christ  is  the  Lord  of  lords,  and 
this  kingdoiu  is  held  directly  and  solely  of  Christ 
alone."'  Thus  spoke  the  lords  inspired  by  Wickliffe. 
Parliament  decided  unanimously  that  no  prince  had 
the  right  to  alienate  the  sovereignty  of  the  kingdom 
without  the  consent  of  the  otlier  two  estates ;  and  that 
if  the  pontiff  should  attempt  to  proceed  against  the 
King  of  England  as  his  vassal,  the  nation  should  rise 
in  a  body  to  maintain  the  independence  of  the  crown. 

To  no  purpose  did  this  generous  resolution  excite 
the  wrath  of  the  partisans  of  Home ;  to  no  purpose  did 
they  assert  that,  by  the  canon  law,  the  king  ought  to 
be  deprived  of  liis  fief,  and  that  England  now  belonged 
to  the  pope:  "No,"  replied  Wickliffe,  "the  canon  law 
has  no  force  when  it  is  opposed  to  the  Word  of  God." 
Edward  HI.  made  AVicklifte  one  of  his  cliaplains,  and 
the  papacy  has  ceased  from  that  hour  to  lay  claim — in 
explicit  terms  at  least — to  the  sovereignty  of  England. 

When  the  pope  gave  up  his  temporal,  he  was  desirous, 

at  the  very  least,  of  keeping  up  his  ecclesiastical  pre- 

1  These  oijiiiioiis  are  reported  by  Wickliflc,  in  a  trcaUsc  preserved  in  the 

SMcn  MSS.,  ami  printed  by  Mr.  J.  Lewis  iu  his  "  History  of  Wickliffe." 

App.  No.  30,  p.  349.    He  was  present  during  tlie  debate. 


tensions,  and  to  procure  the  repeal  of  the  statutes  of 
Pnrmunire  and  Provisors.  It  was  accordingly  resolved 
to  hold  a  conference  at  Bruges  to  treat  of  this  question ; 
and  AVickliffe,  who  had  been  created  doctor  of  theology 
two  years  before,  proceeded  thither  with  the  other 
commissioners  in  April,  1374.  They  came  to  an 
arrangement,  in  1375,  that  the  king  should  bind  him- 
self to  repeal  the  penalties  denounced  against  the  pon- 
tifical agent.s,  and  that  the  pope  should  confirm  the 
king's  ecclesiastical  presentations.  But  the  nation  was 
not  pleased  with  this  compromise.  "The  clerks  sent 
from  Rome,"  said  the  Commons,  "  are  more  dangerous 
for  the  kingdom  than  Jews  or  Saracens :  every  papal 
agent  resident  in  England,  and  every  Englishman  living 
at  the  court  of  Rome,  should  be  punished  with  deatli." 
Such  was  the  language  of  the  Good  Farliament.  In  the 
fourteenth  century  the  English  nation  called  a  parlia- 
ment good  which  did  not  yield  to  the  papacy. 

Wickliffe,  after  his  return  to  England,  was  presented 
to  the  rectory  of  Lutterworth ;  and  from  that  time  a 
practical  activity  was  added  to  his  academic  influence. 
At  Oxford  he  spoke  as  a  master  to  the  young  theo- 
logians ;  in  his  parish  he  addressed  the  people  as  a 
preacher  and  as  a  pastor.  "  The  Gospel,"  said  he,  "  is 
the  only  source  of  religion.  The  Roman  pontiff  is  a 
mere  cut-purse  ;=  and,  far  from  having  the  right  to 
reprimand  the  whole  world,  he  may  be  lawfully  re- 
proved by  his  inferiors,  and  even  by  laymen." 

The  papacy  grew  alarmed.  Courtenay,  son  of  the 
Earl  of  Devonshire,  an  imperious  but  grave  priest,  and 
full  of  zeal  for  what  he  believed  to  be  the  truth,  had 
recently  been  appointed  to  the  see  of  London.  In 
pariianient  he  had  resisted  Wickliife's  patron,  John  of 
Gaunt,  dnke  of  Lancaster,  third  son  of  Edward  III., 
and  head  of  the  house  of  that  name.  The  bishop, 
observing  that  the  doctrines  of  the  reformer  were 
spreading  among  the  people,  both  high  and  low, 
charged  him  with  heresy,  and  summoned  him  to 
appear  before  the  convocation  assembled  in  St.  Paul's 
Cathedral. 

On  the  19th  February,  1377,  an  immense  crowd, 
heated  with  fanaticism,  thronged  the  approaches  to  the 
church  and  filled  its  aisles,  while  the  citizens  favour- 
able to  the  reform  remained  concealed  in  their  houses. 
Wickliffe  moved  forward,  preceded  by  Lord  Percy, 
marshal  of  England,  and  supported  by  the  Duke  of 
Lancaster,  who  defended  him  from  purely  political 
motives.  He  was  followed  by  four  bachelors  of 
divinity,  his  counsel,  and  passed  through  the  hostile 
multitude,  who  looked  upon  Lancaster  as  the  enemy 
of  their  liberties,  and  upon  himself  as  the  enemy  of 
the  Church.  "  Let  not  the  sight  of  these  bishops  make 
you  shrink  a  hair's-breadth  in  your  profession  of  faith," 
said  the  prince  to  the  doctor.  "  They  are  unlearned ; 
and  as  for  this  concourse  of  people,  fear  nothing,  we 
are  here  to  defend  you."  AV'hen  the  reformer  had 
crossed  the  threshold  of  the  cathedral,  the  crowd 
withiu  appeared  like  a  solid  wall ;  and,  notwithstand- 
ing the  efforts  of  the  earl-marshal,  Wickliffe  and  Lan- 
caster could  not  advance.  Tlie  people  swayed  to  and 
fro,  hands  were  raised  iu  violence,  and  loud  hootings 
re-echoed  through  the  building.  At  length  Percy 
2  "The  proud  worldly  priest  of  Rome,  and  the  most  cursed  of  clippers  and 
pursc-kciTcts."— JCfwJs,  History  of  Wickliffe,  p.  37.    Oxford,  1820. 


WICKLIFFE  BEFORE  THE  CONVOCATION. 


r.S3 


made  an  opening  in  the  dense  multitude,  and  Wick- 
lifTe  pa.'ifod  on. 

The  Iiaii^hty  Courtcnay,  who  had  been  commissioned 
by  the  archbisliop  to  preside  over  the  assembly,  watched 
these  strange  movements  with  anxiety,  and  beheld  with 
displeasure  the  learned  doctor  accompanied  by  the  two 
most  powerful  men  in  England.  He  said  nothing  to 
the  Duke  of  Lancaster,  who  at  that  time  administered 
the  kingdom,  but  turning  towards  Percy,  observed 
sharply:  "If  I  had  known,  my  lord,  that  you  claimed 
to  be  master  in  this  church,  1  would  have  taken  mea- 
sures to  prevent  your  entrance."  Lancaster  coldly 
rejoined:  "He  shall  keep  such  mastery  here,  though 
you  say  nay."  Percy  now  turned  to  WicklifFe,  who 
had  remained  standing,  and  said  :  "  Sit  down  and  rest 
yousclf."  At  this  Courteuay  gave  way  to  his  anger, 
and  exclaimed  in  a  loud  tone  :  "  He  must  not  sit  down  ; 
criminals  stand  before  their  judges."  Lancaster,  in- 
dignant tliat  a  learned  doctor  of  England  should  be 
refused  a  favour  to  which  his  age  alone  entitled  him, 
(for  he  was  between  fifty  and  sixty,)  made  answer  to 
the  bishop :  "  My  lord,  you  are  very  arrogant ;  take 
care,  .  .  .  or  I  may  bring  down  your  pride,  and 
uot  yours  only,  but  that  of  all  the  prelacy  in  England." 
— "  Do  me  all  the  harm  j'ou  can,"  was  Courtenay's 
haughty  reply.  The  prince  rejoined,  with  some  emotion : 
"  You  are  insolent,  my  lord.  You  think,  no  doubt,  you 
can  trust  on  your  family;  .  .  ,  but  your  relations 
will  have  trouble  enough  to  protect  themselves."  To 
this  the  bishop  nobly  replied :  "  My  confidence  is  not 
in  my  parents,  nor  in  any  man  ;  but  only  in  God,  in 
whom  1  trust,  and  by  whose  assistance  I  will  be  bold 
to  speak  the  truth."  Lancaster,  who  saw  hypocrisy 
only  in  these  words,  turned  to  one  of  his  attendants, 
and  whispered  in  his  ear,  but  so  loud  as  to  be  heard 
by  the  bystanders :  "  I  would  rather  pluck  the  bishop 
by  the  hair  of  his  head  out  of  his  chair,  than  take  this 
at  his  hands."  Every  impartial  reader  must  confess 
that  the  prelate  spoke  with  greater  dignity  than  the 
prince.  Lancaster  had  hardly  uttered  these  imprudent 
words  before  the  bishop's  partisans  fell  upon  him  and 
Percy,  aud  even  upon  Wickliffe,  who  alone  had  re- 
mained calm.  The  two  noblemen  resisted,  their  friends 
and  servants  defended  them,  the  uproar  became  extreme, 
and  there  was  no  hope  of  restoring  tranquility.  The 
two  lords  escaped  with  difficulty,  aud  the  assembly 
broke  up  in  great  confusion. 

On  the  following  day,  the  earl-raarshal  having  called 
upon  parliament  to  apprehend  the  disturbers  of  the 
public  peace,  the  clerical  party,  uuiting  with  the  ene- 
mies of  Lancaster,  filled  the  streets  with  their  clamour; 
and  while  the  duke  and  the  earl  escaped  by  the  Thames, 
the  mob  collected  before  Percy's  house,  broke  down  the 
doors,  searched  every  chamber,  and  thrust  their  swords 
into  every  dark  corner.  When  they  found  that  he  had 
escaped,  the  rioters,  imagining  that  he  was  concealed 
in  Lancaster's  palace,  rushed  to  the  Savoy,  at  that  time 
the  most  magnificent  building  in  the  kingdom.  They 
killed  a  priest  who  endeavoiu-ed  to  stay  them,  tore  down 
the  ducal  arms,  and  hung  them  on  the  gallows  like 
those  of  a  traitor.  They  would  have  gone  still  farther 
if  the  bishop  had  not  very  opportunely  reminded  them 
that  they  were  in  Lent.  As  for  AVickliffe,  he  was  dis- 
inissedwith  au  injunction  against  preachinghis doctrines. 


But  this  decision  of  the  priests  was  not  ratified  by 
the  people  of  England.  Public  opinion  declared  in 
favour  of  WicklifEc.  "If  ho  is  guilty,"  said  they,  "why 
is  he  not  punished  ?  If  he  is  innocent,  why  is  he  ordered 
to  be  silent?  If  he  is  the  weakest  in  power,  he  is  the 
strongest  in  truth ! "  And  so  indeed  he  was,  and  never 
had  he  spoken  with  such  energy.  He  openly  at- 
tacked the  pretended  apostolical  chair,  and  declared 
that  the  tvo  antipopes  who  sat  at  Rome  and  Avignon 
together  made  one  antichrist.  Being  now  in  opposition 
to  the  pope,  "WicklifFe  was  soon  to  confess  that  Christ 
alone  was  king  of  the  Church  ;  and  that  it  is  not 
possible  for  a  man  to  be  excommunicated,  unless  first 
and  principally  he  be  excommunicated  by  himself. 

Rome  could  not  close  her  ears.  ^V'ickliffe's  enemies 
sent  thither  nineteen  propositions  which  they  ascribed 
to  him,  and  in  the  month  of  June,  1377,  just  as  Richard 
II.,  son  of  the  Black  Prince,  a  child  eleven  years  old, 
■was  ascending  the  throne,  three  letters  from  Gregory 
XL,  addressed  to  the  king,  the  archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury, aud  the  university  of  Oxford,  denounced  Wick- 
litTc  as  a  heretic,  aud  called  upon  them  to  proceed 
against  him  as  against  a  common  thief.  The  arch- 
bishop issued  the  citation :  the  crown  aud  the  univer- 
sity were  silent. 

On  the  appointed  day,  "Wickliffe,  unaccompanied  by 
either  Lancaster  or  Percy,  proceeded  to  the  archicpisco- 
pal  chapel  at  Lambeth.  "  Men  expected  he  should  be 
devoured,"  says  an  historian  ;  "  being  brought  into  the 
lion's  den."  But  the  burgesses  had  taken  the  prince's 
place.  The  assault  of  Rome  had  aroused  the  friends 
of  liberty  and  truth  in  England.  "  The  pope's  briefs," 
said  they,  "ought  to  have  no  effect  in  the  realm  with- 
out the  king's  consent.  Every  man  is  master  in  his 
own  house." 

The  archbishop  had  scarcely  opened  the  sitting,  when 
Sir  Louis  Clifford  entered  the  chapel,  aud  forbade  the 
court,  on  the  part  of  the  queen-mother,  to  proceed 
against  the  reformer.  The  bishops  were  struck  with  a 
panic-fear :  "  they  bent  their  heads,"  says  a  Roman 
Catholic  historian,  "like  a  reed  before  the  wiud." 
"Wickliffe  retired  after  handing  in  a  protest.  "  In  the 
first  place,"  said  he,  "  I  resolve  with  my  whole  heart, 
and  by  the  grace  of  God,  to  bo  a  sincere  Christian ; 
and,  while  my  life  shall  last,  to  profess  and  defend  the 
law  of  Christ  so  far  as  I  have  power."  AYickliffe's 
enemies  attacked  this  protest,  and  one  of  them  eagerly 
maintained  that  whatever  the  pope  ordered  should  be 
looked  upon  as  right.  "  "What !  "  answered  the  re- 
former; "the  pope  may  then  exclude  from  the  canon 
of  the  Scriptures  any  book  that  displeases  him,  and 
alter  the  Bible  at  pleasure?"  AYickliffe  thought  that 
Rome,  unsettling  the  grounds  of  infallibility,  had 
transferred  it  from  the  Scriptures  to  the  pope,  .and 
was  desirous  of  restoring  it  to  its  true  place,  and  re- 
establishing authority  iu  the  Church  on  a  truly  Divine 
foundation. 

A  groat  change  was  now  taking  place  in  the  re- 
former. Busying  himself  less  about  the  kingdom  of 
England,  he  occupied  himself  more  about  the  kingdom 
of  Christ.  In  him  the  political  phasis  was  followed  by 
the  religious.  To  caiTy  the  glad  tidings  of  the  Gospel 
into  the  remotest  hamlets,  was  now  the  great  idea 
which  possessed  "Wickliffe.     If  begging  friars  (said  he) 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


stroll  over  the  country,  preaching  the  legends  of  saints 
and  the  history  of  the  Trojan  war,  we  must  do  for 
God's  glory  what  they  do  to  till  their  wallets,  and  form 
a  vast  itinerant  evangelization  to  convert  souls  to  Jesus 
Christ.  Turning  to  the  most  pious  of  his  disciples,  he 
said  to  them :  "  Go  and  preach,  it  is  the  sublimest 
work ;  but  imitate  not  the  priests  whom  we  see,  after 


iL 


the  sermon,  sitting  in  the  ale-houses,  or  at  the  gaming- 
table, or  wasting  their  time  in  hunting.  After  your 
sermon  is  ended,  do  you  visit  tlie  sick,  the  aged,  the 
poor,  the  blind,  and  the  lame,  and  succour  them  accord- 
ing to  your  ability."  Such  was  the  new  practical 
theology  which  Wickliffe  inaugurated — it  was  that  of 
Christ  himself. 

The  "  poor  priests,"  as  they  were  called,  set  off  bare- 
foot, a  staif  in  their  hands,  clothed  iu  a  coarse  robe, 
living  on  alms,  and  satisfied  with  the  plainest  food. 


They  stopped  in  the  fields  near  some  village,  in  the 
churchyards,  in  the  market-places  of  the  towns,  and 
sometimes  iu  the  churches  even.     The  people,  among 
whom  they  were  favourites,  thronged  around  them,  as 
the  men  of  Northumbria  had  done  at  Aidau's  preach- 
ing.   They  spoke  with  a  popular  eloquence  that  entirely 
won  over  those  who  listened  to  them.     Of  these  mis- 
sionaries none  was  more  beloved  than 
John  Ashton.     He  might  be  seen  wan- 
dering over  the  country  in  every  direc- 
tion, or  seated  at  some  cottage  hearth, 
or    alone    in    some   retired    crossway, 
preaching  to  an  attentive  crowd.     Mis- 
^-—  sious  of  this  kind  have  constantly  re- 

^==-  vived  in  England  at  the  great  epochs 

of  the  Church. 

The  "  poor  priests  "  were  not  content 
^\  ith  mere  polemics :  they  preached  the 
41  nt  mjstery  of  godliness.  ''An  angel 
tould  hive  made  no  propitiation  for 
ni\n,"one  day  exclaimed  their  master 
ANickliffc;  "  for  the  nature  which  has 
I  lined  lb  not  that  of  the  angels.  The 
I  i  hatoi  must  needs  be  a  man ;  but 
L  \  a  V  man  being  indebted  to  God  for 
(\Li}  thing  that  he  is  able  to  do,  this 
inia  must  needs  have  infinite  merit,  and 
be  at  the  same  time  God." 

Ihe  clergy  became  alarmed,  and  a 
Uw   was    passed    commanding    every 
king's  officer  to  commit  the  preachers 
and  their  followers  to  prison.     In  con- 
sequence of  this,  as  soon    as   the  humble  missionary 
began  to  preach,  the  monks  set  themselves  in  motion. 
They  watched  him  from  the  windows  of  their  cells,  at 
the  street  corners,  or  from  behind  a  hedge,  and  then 
hastened  off  to  procure  assistance.     But  when  the  con- 
stables  approached,   a  body  of  stout  bold  men  stood 
forth,  with  arms  in  their  hands,  who  surrounded  the 
preacher,    and   zealously    protected    him    against    the 
attacks  of  the  clergy.      Carnal   weapons  were   thus 
mingled  with  the  preachings  of  the  word  of   peace. 
The  poor  priests  returned  to  their  master :  Wick- 
liffe comforted  them,  advised  with  them,  and 
then  they  departed  once  more.     Every  day  this 
evangelization  reached  some  new  spot,  and  the 
light  was  thus  penetrating   into  every  quarter 
of  England,   when  the  reformer  was  suddenly 
stopped  iu  his  work. 

Wickliffe  was  at  Oxford  in  the  year  1379, 
busied  in  the  discharge  of  his  duties  as  professor 
of  divinity,  when  he  fell  dangerously  ill.  Ilis 
was  not  a  strong  constitution;  and  work,  age, 
and  above  all,  persecution,  had  weakened  him. 
Great  was  the  joy  in  the  monasteries;  but  for 
that  joy  to  be  complete  the  heretic  must  recant. 
Every  effort  was  made  to  bring  this  about  in  his 
last  moments. 

The  four  regents,  who  represented  the  four 
religious  orders,  accompanied  by  four  aldermen, 
hastened  to  the  bedside  of  the  dying  man,  hoping 
to  frighten  him  by  threatening  him  with  the 
vengeance  of  Heaven.  They  found  him  calm 
and  serene.     "  You  have  death  on  your  lips," 


THE  BIBLE— WICKLIFFE'S  TRANSLATION. 


said  they;  "  be  touched  by  your  ftuilts,  and  retract  in 
our  presence  all  that  you  have  said  to  oiu-  injmy." 
Wickliffc  remained  silent,  and  the  monks  flattered 
themselves  with  an  easy  victory.  But  the  nearer  the 
reformer  approached  eternity,  the  greater  was  his  horror 
of  monkery.  The  consolation  he  had  found  in 
Jesus  Christ  had  given  him  fresh  energy.  He 
begged  his  servant  to  raise  him  on  his  couch. 
Then,  feeble  and  pale,  and  scarcely  able  to  sup- 
port himself,  he  turned  towards  the  friars,  who 
were  waiting  for  his  recantation,  and  opening 
his  livid  lips,  and  fixing  on  them  a  piercing  look, 
he  said  with  emphasis  :  "  I  shall  not  die,  but  live, 
and  again  declare  the  evil  deeds  of  the  friars." 
We  might  almost  picture  to  ourselves  the  s])iril 
of  Elijah  threatening  the  priests  of  Baal.  The 
regents  and  their  companions  looked  at  each  other 
with  astonishment.  They  left  the  room  in  con- 
fusion, and  the  reformer  recovered  to  put  the 
finishing  touch  to  the  most  important  of  his 
works  against  the  monks  and  against  the  pope. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

TIic  Bil)lc— Wicklifrc's  Translation— Effects  of  its  Publication— Opposition 
of  til.'  r'l,'iL-v-Wi,l,liilVs  Fimrtli  riwisis— Traiisulistantiation— Excom- 

iiuiriii  ;ii!  ■■     Ui.;iiii'.    i,i:,ii..    ._\v,i    1 1 ;.  I— The  Synod— The  Con- 
Ociiiiii'il'  I  \\     '  .   '      I''    :.     ^'>  i  I.  line  before  the  Primate 

nt(>\i-i  I     1',       ,   ;      .,  .!'U     ,      ii  .  Answer— Hie  Tmloguo 

— Uis  IK^.il.- And  Cli.ua>.tii-Ilia  l\.i.  Iui,„— Ills  Ecclcsiasticol  Views 
—A  Prophecy. 

WicitLiFFE's  ministry  had  followed  a  progressive  course. 

At  first  he  had  attacked  the  papacy;  next  he  preached 

the  Gospel  to  the  poor;  he  could  take 

one  more  step,  and  put  the  people  in 

permanent  possession  of  the  "Word  of 

God.     This  was  the  third  phase  of  his 

activity. 

Scholasticism  had  banished  the  Scrip- 
tures into  a  mysterious  obscurity.  It 
is  true  that  Bede  had  translated  the 
Gospel  of  St.  John ;  that  the  learned 
men  at  Alfred's  court  had  translated 
the  four  Evangelists;  that  Elfric,  in  tiie 
reign  of  Ethelred,  had  translated  some 
books  of  the  Old  Testament;  that  an 
Anglo-Norman  priest  had  paraphrased 
the  Gospels  and  the  Acts ;  that  Richard 
RoIIe,  "the  hermit  of  Hampole,"  and 
some  pious  clerks  in  the  fourteenth 
century,  had  produced  a  version  of  the 
Psalms,  the  Gospels,  and  Epistles ;  but 
these  rare  volumes  were  hidden,  like 
theological  curiosities,  in  the  libraries 
of  a  few  convents.  It  was  then  a 
maxim  that  the  reading  of  the  Bible 
was  injurious  to  the  laity;  and  accord- 
ingly the  priests  forbade  it,  just  as  the 
Brahmins  forbid  the  Shasters  to  the 
Hindoos.  Oral  tradition  alone  pre- 
served among  the  people  the  histories 


of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  mingled  with  legends  of  the 
saints.  The  time  appeared  ripe  for  the  publication  of 
a  Bible.     The  increase  of  population,  the  attention  the 


ish  were  begii 


to  their  own  language, 
of  representative 


government  had  received,  the  awakening  of  the  human 
mind :  all  these  circumstances  favoured  the  reformer's 
design. 

AVickliffe  was  ignorant,  indeed,  of  Greek  and  Hebrew; 
but  was  it  nothing  to  shake  off  the  dust  which  for 
ages  had  covered  the  Latin  Bible,  and  to  translate  it 
into  English  ?  He  was  a  good  Latin  scholar,  of  sound 
understanding  and  great  penetration  ;  but  above  all  he 
loved  the  Bible,  he  understood  it,  and  desired  to  com- 
municate this  treasure  to  others.  Let  us  imagine  liim 
in  his  quiet  study:  on  his  table  is  the  Vulgate  text, 
corrected  after  the  best  manuscripts ;  and  lying  open 
around  him  are  the  commentaries  of  the  doctors  of  the 


F.Uir;S  OF  SAVOY   PALACE. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


clmrcli,  especially  those  of  St.  Jerome  and  Nicholas 
Lyrensis.  Between  ten  and  fifteen  years  he  steadily 
prosecuted  his  task ;  learned  men  aided  him  with  their 
advice,  and  one  of  them,  Nicholas  Hereford,  appears  to 
have  translated  a  few  chapters  for  him.  At  last,  in 
1380,  it  was  completed.  This  was  a  great  event  in  the 
religious  history  of  England,  who,  outstripping  the 
nations  on  the  Continent,  took  her  station  in  the  fore- 
most rank  in  the  great  work  of  disseminating  the 
Scriptures. 

As  soon  as  the  translation  was  finished  the  labour 
of  the  copyists  began,  and  the  Bible  was  erelong  widely 
circulated,  either  wholly  or  in  portions.  The  reception 
of  the  work  surpassed  Wickliffe's  expectations.  The 
Holy  Scriptures  exercised  a  reviving  influence  over 
men's  hearts;  minds  were  enlightened;  souls  were 
converted  ;  the  voices  of  the  •'  poor  priests  "  had  done 
little  in  comparison  with  this  voice ;  something  new 
had  entered  into  the  world.  Citizens,  soldiers,  and  the 
lower  classes,  welcomed  this  new  era  with  acclamations ; 
the  higli-born  curiously  examined  the  unknown  book  ; 
and  even  Anne  of  Luxemburg,  wife  of  Richard  II., 
having  learnt  English,  began  to  read  the  Gospels 
diligently.  She  did  more  than  this :  she  made  them 
known  to  Arundel,  archbishop  of  York  and  chancellor, 
and  afterwards  a  persecutor,  but  who  now,  struck  at 
the  sight  of  a  foreign  lady — of  a  queen,  humbly  de- 
voting her  leisure  to  the  study  of  such  virtuous  books, 
commenced  reading  them  himself,  and  rebuked  the 
prelates  who  neglected  this  holy  pursuit.  "You  could 
not  meet  two  persons  on  the  highway,"  says  a  contem- 
porary writer,  "  but  one  of  them  was  Wickliffe's  dis- 
ciple." 

Yet  all  in  England  did  not  equally  rejoice :  the  lower 
clergy  opposed  this  enthusiasm  with  complaints  and 
maledictions.  "  JIaster  John  Wickliffe,  by  translating 
the  Gospel  into  English,"  said  the  monks,  "has  rendered 
it  more  acceptable  and  more  intelligible  to  laymen,  and 
even  to  women,  than  it  had  hitherto  been  to  learued 
and  intelligent  clerks!  .     .     The  Gospel  pearl  is 

everywhere  cast  out  and  trodden  under  foot  of  swine." 
New  contests  arose  for  the  reformer.  Wherever  he 
bent  his  steps  he  was  violently  attacked.  "  It  is 
heresy,"  cried  the  monks,  "  to  speak  of  Holy  Scripture 
in  English."  "  Since  the  Church  has  approved  of  the 
four  Gospels,  she  would  have  been  just  as  able  to  reject 
them  and  admit  others !  The  Church  sanctions  and 
condemns  what  she  pleases.  .  .  .  Learn  to  believe 
in  the  Church  rather  than  in  the  Gospel."  These 
clamours  did  not  alarm  Wickliife.  "Many  nations 
have  had  the  Bible  in  their  own  language.  The  Bible 
is  the  faith  of  the  Church.  Though  the  pope  and  all 
his  clerks  should  disappear  from  the  face  of  the 
earth,"  said  he,  "  our  faith  woidd  not  fail,  for  it  is 
founded  on  Jesus  alone,  our  Master  and  our  God." 
But  Wickliffe  did  not  stand  alone :  in  the  palace  as  in 
the  cottage,  and  even  in  parliament,  the  rights  of  Holy 
Seripture  found  det'cuders.  A  motion  having  been 
made  in  the  Upper  House  (1.390)  to  seize  all  the  copies 
of  the  Bible,  the  Duke  of  Lancaster  exclaimed:  "Are 
we,  then,  the  very  dregs  of  humanity,  that  we  cannot 
possess  the  laws  of  our  religion  in  our  own  tongue?" 

Having  given  his  fellow-countrymen  the  Bible, 
Wickliffe  began  to  reflect  on  its  contents.     This  was  a 


new  step  in  his  onward  path.  There  comes  a  moment 
when  the  Christian,  saved  by  a  lively  faith,  feels  the 
need  of  giving  an  account  to  himself  of  this  faith,  and 
this  originates  the  science  of  theology.  This  is  a 
natural  movement :  if  the  child,  who  at  first  possesses 
sensations  and  affections  only,  feels  the  want,  as  he 
grows  up,  of  reflection  and  knowledge,  why  should  it 
not  be  the  same  with  the  Christian?  Politics — home 
missions — Holy  Scripture — had  engaged  Wickliffe  in 
succession ;  theology  had  its  turn,  and  this  was  the 
fourth  phase  of  his  life.  Yet  he  did  not  penetrate  to 
the  same  degree  as  the  men  of  the  sixteenth  century 
into  the  depths  of  the  Christian  doctrine ;  and  he 
attached  himself  in  a  more  especial  manner  to  those 
ecclesiastical  dogmas  which  were  more  closely  con- 
nected with  the  presumptuous  hierarchy  and  the  simo- 
niacal  gains  of  Rome  —  such  as  trausubstantiation. 
The  Anglo-Saxon  Church  had  not  professed  this  doc- 
trine. "  The  host  is  the  body  of  Christ,  not  bodily, 
but  spiritually,"  said  Elfric,  in  the  tenth  century,  in  a 
letter  addressed  to  the  Archbishop  of  York ;  but  Lan- 
franc,  the  opponent  of  Berengarius,  had  taught  Eng- 
land, that  at  the  word  of  a  priest  God  quitted  heaven 
and  descended  on  the  altar.  Wickliffe  undertook  to 
overthrow  the  pedestal  on  which  the  pride  of  the  priest- 
hood was  founded.  "  The  eucharist  is  naturally  bread 
and  wine,"  he  taught  at  Oxford  in  1381 ;  "  but  by 
virtue  of  the  sacramental  words,  it  contains  in  every 
part  the  real  body  and  blood  of  Christ."  He  did  not 
stop  here.  "  The  consecrated  wafer  which  we  see  on 
the  altar,"  said  he,  "  is  not  Christ,  nor  any  part  of  Him, 
but  His  eflicient  sign."  He  oscillated  between  these 
two  shades  of  doctrine  ;  but  to  the  first  he  more  habit- 
ually attached  himself.  He  denied  the  sacrifice  of  the 
mass  offered  by  the  priest,  because  it  was  substituted 
for  the  sacrifice  of  the  cross  offered  up  by  Jesus  Clirist; 
and  rejected  trausubstantiation,  because  it  nullified  the 
spiritual  and  living  presence  of  the  Lord. 

When  Wickliffe's  enemies  heard  these  propositions 
they  appeared  horror-stricken,  and  yet  in  secret  they 
were  delighted  at  the  prospect  of  destroying  him. 
They  met  together,  examined  twelve  theses  he  had 
published,  and  pronounced  against  him  suspension 
from  all  teaching,  imprisonment,  and  the  greater 
excommunication.  At  the  same  time  his  friends  be- 
came alarmed,  their  zeal  cooled,  and  many  of  them 
forsook  him.  The  Duke  of  Lancaster,  in  particular, 
could  not  follow  him  into  this  new  sphere.  That 
prince  had  no  objection  to  an  ecclesiastical  opposition 
which  might  aid  the  political  power,  and  for  that  pur- 
pose he  had  tried  to  enlist  the  reformer's  talents  and 
courage;  but  he  feared  a  dogmatic  opposition  that 
might  compi-omise  him.  The  sky  was  heavy  with 
clouds  ;  Wickliffe  was  alone. 

The  storm  soon  burst  upon  him.  One  day,  while 
seated  in  his  doctoral  chair  in  the  Augustine  school, 
and  calmly  explaining  the  uatin-o  of  the  eucharist,  an 
officer  entered  the  hall,  and  read  the  sentence  of  con- 
demnation. It  was  the  design  of  his  enemies  to  humble 
the  professor  in  the  eyes  of  his  disciples.  Lancaster 
immediately  became  alarmed,  and  hastening  to  his  old 
friend  begged  him— ordered  him  even — to  trouble  him- 
self no  more  about  this  matter.  Attacked  on  every 
side,  Wickliffe  for  a  time  remained  silent.     Shall  he 


WICKLIFFE'S  FIRMNESS. 


587 


sacrifice  the  Iruth  to  save  his  reputation — his  repose — 
])erliaps  his  life  ?  Shall  expediency  get  the  better  of 
faith — Lancaster  prevail  over  AVickliffc?  No:  his 
courage  was  invineihlc.  "  Since  the  year  of  our  Lord 
1000,"  said  he,  "all  the  doctors  have  been  in  error 
about  the  sacrament  of  the  altar — except,  perhaps,  it 
may  bo  Berengarins.  How  canst  thou,  O  priest!  who 
art  but  a  man,  make  thy  JIaker  ?  What!  the  thing 
that  groweth  in  the  fields — that  ear  which  thou  pluckest 
to-day,  shall  be  God  to-morrow!  ...  As  you 
cannot  make  the  works  which  He  made,  how  shall  ye 
make  Him  who  made  the  works?  AVoe  to  the  adul- 
terous generation  that  believeth  the  testimony  of  Inno- 
cent rather  than  of  the  Gospel."  Wickliffe  called 
upon  his  adversaries  to  refute  the  opinions  they  had 
condemned,  and  finding  that  they  threatened  him  with 
a  civil  penalty,  (imprisonment,)  lie  appealed  to  the 
king. 

The  time  was  not  favourable  for  such  an  appeal. 
A  fatal  circumstance  increased  Wickliffe's  danger. 
"Wat  Tyler  and  a  dissolute  priest,  named  Ball,  taking 
advantage  of  the  ill-will  excited  by  the  rapacity  and 
brutality  of  the  royal  tax-gatherers,  had  occupied 
London  with  100,000  men.  John  Ball  kept  up  the 
spirits  of  the  insurgents,  not  by  expositions  of  the 
Gospel,  like  Wickliffe's  ^wor  priests,  but  by  fiery  com- 
ments on  the  distich  they  had  chosen  for  their  device : 

When  Adam  delved  and  Eve  span. 
Who  was  then  the  gentleman? 

There  ■\\'erc  many  who  felt  no  scruple  in  ascribing 
these  disorders  to  the  reformer,  who  was  quite  inno- 
cent of  them  ;  and  Courtenay,  bishop  of  Loudon,  hav- 
ing been  translated  to  the  see  of  Canterbury,  lost  no 
time  in  convoking  a  synod  to  pronounce  on  this  matter 
of  AV^ickliffe's.  They  met  in  the  middle  of  Blay,  about 
two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  and  were  proceeding  to 
pronounce  sentence,  when  an  earthquake,  which  shook 
the  city  of  London  and  all  Britain,  so  alarmed  the 
members  of  the  council  that  they  unanimously  demanded 
the  adjournment  of  a  decision  which  appeared  so  mani- 
festly rebuked  by  God.  But  the  archbishop  skilfully 
turned  this  strange  phenomenon  to  his  own  purposes : 
"  Know  you  not,"  said  he,  "  that  the  noxious  vapours 
which  catch  fire  in  the  bosom  of  the  earth,  and  give 
rise  to  these  phenomena  which  alarm  you,  lose  all 
their  force  when  they  burst  forth  ?  Well,  in  like  man- 
ner, by  rejecting  the  wicked  from  our  community,  we 
shall  pul  an  end  to  the  convulsions  of  the  Church." 
The  bishops  regained  their  courage ;  and  one  of  the 
primate's  officers  read  ten  propositions,  said  to  be 
Wickliffe's,  but  ascribing  to  him  certain  errors  of 
which  he  was  quite  innocent.  The  following  most 
excited  the  anger  of  the  priests :  "  God  must  obey  the 
devil.  After  La-ban  VI.  we  must  receive  no  one  as 
pope,  but  live  according  to  the  manner  of  the  Greeks." 
The  ten  propositions  were  condemned  as  heretical,  and 
the  archbishop  enjoined  all  persons  to  shun,  as  they 
would  a  venomous  serpent,  all  who  should  preach  the 
aforesaid  errors.  '"  If  we  permit  this  heretic  to  appeal 
continually  to  the  passions  of  the  people,"  said  the 
primate  to  the  king,  '-our  destruction  is  inevitable. 
We  must  silence  these  lollards — these  psalm-singers." 
The  king  gave  authority  "  to  confine  in  the  prisons  of 


the  state  any  who  should  maintain  the  condemned  pro- 
positions." 

Day  by  day  the  circle  contracted  around  Wickliffe. 
The  i)rudent  Repingdon,  the  learned  Hereford,  and 
even  the  eloquent  Ashton,  the  firmest  of  the  three, 
depirted  from  him.  The  veteran  champion  of  the 
truth  which  had  once  gathered  a  whole  nation  round 
it,  had  reached  the  days  when  "strong  men  shall  bow 
themselves;"  and  now,  when  har.assed  by  persecution, 
he  found  himself  alone.  But  boldly  he  Jiplifted  his 
hoary  head,  "and  exclaimed:  "The  doctrine  of  the 
Gospel  shall  never  perish;  and  if  the  earth  once 
quaked,  it  was  because  they  condemned  Jesus  Christ." 

He  did  not  stop  here.  In  proportion  as  his  physical 
strength  decreased,  his  moral  strength  increased.  In- 
stead of  parrying  the  blows  aimed  at  him,  he  resolved 
on  dealing  more  terrible  ones  still.  He  knew  that  if 
the  king  and  the  nobility  were  for  the  priests,  the 
lower  house  and  the  citizens  were  for  liberty  and  truth. 
He  therefore  presented  a  bold  petition  to  the  Commons 
in  the  month  of  November,  1382.  "Since  Jesus 
Christ  shed  His  blood  to  free  His  Church,  I  demand 
its  freedom.  I  demand  that  every  one  may  leave 
those  gloomy  walls  [the  convents],  within  which  a 
tyrannical  law  prevails,  and  embrace  a  simple  and 
peaceful  life  under  the  open  vault  of  heaven.  I  de- 
maud  that  the  poor  inhabitants  of  our  towns  and  vil- 
lages be  not  constrained  to  furnish  a  worldly  priest, 
often  a  vicious  man  and  a  heretic,  with  the  means  <  f 
satisfying  his  ostentation,  his  gluttony,  and  his  licen- 
tiousness— of  buying  a  showy  horse,  costly  saddles, 
bridles  with  tinkling  bells,  rich  garments,  and  soft 
furs,  while  they  see  their  wives,  children,  and  neigh- 
bours, dying  of  hunger."'  The  House  of  Commons, 
recollecting  that  they  had  not  given  their  consent  to 
the  persecuting  statute  drawn  up  by  the  clergy  and 
approved  by  the  king  and  the  lords,  demanded  its 
repeal.  Was  the  Reformation  about  to  begin  by  the 
will  of  the  people  ? 

Courtenay,  indignant  at  this  intervention  of  the 
Commons,  and  ever  stimulated  by  a  zeal  for  his 
Church,  which  would  have  been  better  directed  to- 
wards the  Word  of  God,  visited  Oxford  in  Novem- 
ber, 1382,  and  having  gathered  round  him  a  number 
of  bishops,  doctors,  priests,  students,  and  laymen, 
summoned  Wickliffe  before  him.  Forty  years  ago 
the  reformer  had  come  up  to  the  university:  Oxford 
had  become  his  home,  .  .  .  and  now  it  was  turn- 
ing against  him  !  AVeakened  by  labours,  by  trials,  by 
that  ardent  soul  which  preyed  upon  his  feeble  body, 
he  might  have  refused  to  appear.  But  AVickliffe,  who 
never  feared  the  face  of  man,  came  before  them  with  a 
good  conscience.  We  may  conjecture  that  there  were 
among  the  crowd  some  disciples  who  felt  their  hearts 
burn  at  the  sight  of  their  master;  but  no  outward  sign 
indicated  their  emotion.  The  solemn  silence  of  a  court 
of  justice  had  succeeded  the  shouts  of  enthusiastic 
youths.  Yet  Wickliffe  did  not  despair :  he  raised  hii 
vcner.able  head,  and  turned  to  Courtenay  with  that 
confident  look  which  had  made  the  regents  of  Oxford 
shrink  away.  Growing  wroth  against  the  pr.'ests  oj 
Baal,  he  reproached  them  with  disseminating  error  in 

1  "A  Complaint  of  John  Wycleff."— r.-ae()  and  TceutUes  edited  by  tht 
IVickUJe  S<Kieti/,  r.  568. 


HISTORY  OP  THE  REFORMATION. 


order  to  sell  tlioir  masses.  Then  ho  stopped,  and 
littered  these  simple  aud  energetic  words:  "The  truth 
shall  prevail !"  Having  thus  spoken,  he  prepared  to 
leave  the  court :  his  enemies  dared  not  say  a  word ; 
aud,  like  his  Divine  Master  at  Nazareth,  he  passed 
through  the  midst  of  them,  and  no  man  ventured  to 
stop  him.  He  then  withdrew  to  his  cure  at  Lutter- 
worth. 

He  had  not  yet  reached  the  harbour.  He  was  living 
peacefully  among  his  books  and  his  parishioners,  and 
the  priests  seemed  inclined  to  leave  him  alone,  when 
another  blow  was  aimed  at  him.  A  papal  brief  sum- 
moned him  to  Rome,  to  appear  before  that  tribunal 
which  had  so  often  shed  the  blood  of  its  adversaries. 
His  bodily  infirmities  convinced  him  that  he  could  not 
obey  this  summons.  But  if  Wickliffe  refused  to  hear 
Urban,  Urban  could  not  choose  but  hear  Wickliffe. 
Tlie  Church  was  at  that  time  divided  between  two 
chiefs, — France,  Scotland,  Savoy,  Lorraine,  Castile, 
and  Arragon,  acknowledged  Clement  VII.;  while  Italy, 
England,  Germany,  Sweden,  Poland,  and  Hungary, 
acknowledged  Urban  VI.  Wickliffe  shall  tell  us  who 
is  the  true  head  of  the  Church  universal.  And  while 
the  two  popes  were  excommunicating  and  abusing  each 
other,  and  selling  heaven  and  earth  for  their  own  gain, 
the  reformer  was  confessing  that  incorruptible  Word 
which  establishes  real  unity  in  the  Church.  "I  be- 
lieve," said  he,  "  that  the  Gospel  of  Christ  is  the  whole 
body  of  God's  law.  I  believe  that  Christ,  who  gave  it 
to  us,  is  very  God  and  very  man,  and  that  this  Gospel 
revelation  is,  accordingly,  superior  to  all  other  parts  of 
Holy  Scripture. '  I  believe  that  the  Bishop  of  Rome 
is  bound,  more  than  all  other  men,  to  submit  to  it ;  for 
the  greatness  among  Christ's  disciples  did  not  consist 
in  worldly  dignity  or  honours,  but  in  the  exact  follow- 
ing of  Christ  in  His  life  and  manners.  No  faithful 
man  ought  to  follow  the  pope  but  in  such  points  as  he 
hath  followed  Jesus  Christ.  The  pope  ought  to  leave 
unto  the  secular  power  all  temporal  dominion  and  rule  ; 
and  thereunto  effectually  more  and  more  exhort  his 
whole  clergy.  ...  If  I  could  labour  according  to 
my  desire  in  mine  own  person,  I  would  surely  present 
myself  before  the  Bishop  of  Rome;  but  the  Lord  hath 
otherwise  visited  me  to  the  contrary,  and  hath  taught 
me  rather  to  obey  God  thau  men."  - 

Urban,  who  at  that  moment  chanced  to  be  very 
ousied  in  his  contest  with  Clement,  did  not  think  it 
prudeut  to  begin  another  with  "Wickliffe,  and  so  let  the 
matter  rest  there.  From  this  time  the  doctor  passed 
the  remainder  of  his  days  in  peace  in  the  company  of 
three  personages,  two  of  whom  were  his  particular 
friends,  and  the  third  his  constant  adversary:  these 
were,  Alethcia,  Fhronesis,  and  Pseudes.  Aletheia  (truth) 
proposed  questions;  Pseudes  (falsehood)  urged  objec- 
tions; and  Phroncsis  (understanding)  laid  down  the 
sound  doctrine.  These  three  characters  carried  on  a 
conversation  (trialoffiie)  in  which  great  truths  were 
boldly  professed.     The  opposition  between  the  pope 

3  riiisL  Ji~  reading  of  the  Bodleian  manuscript— "  and  lie  [by]  this  it 
rassis  all  other  laws."  In  Foxo,  Wicklifle  appears  to  aserilie  to  Christ  him- 
Bci."  d.is  suiiciicrity  over  all  Seriptui-e— a  distinction  hardly  in  the  mind  of 

'■  '  An  Epistle  of  J.  Wickliffe  to  Pope  Urban  Vl."—Foxc,  Ads,  l  p.  206, 
fob  Lond.  1684;  also  Uwis,  Wickligc,  p.  333,  Append. 


and  Christ — between  the  canons  of  Romanism  and  the 
Bible — was  painted  in  striking  colours.  This  is  one  of 
the  primary  truths  which  the  Church  must  never  for- 
get. "The  Church  has  fallen,"  said  one  of  the  inter- 
locutors in  the  work  in  question,  "because  she  has 
abandoned  the  Gospel,  and  preferred  the  laws  of  the 
pope.  Although  there  should  be  a  hundred  popes  in 
the  world  at  once,  and  all  the  friars  living  should  be 
transformed  into  cardinals,  we  must  withhold  our  con- 
fidence unless  so  far  as  they  are  founded  in  Holy  Scrip- 
ture." 

Tiiesc  words  were  the  last  flicker  of  the  torch. 
Wickliffe  looked  upon  his  end  as  near,  and  entertained 
no  idea  that  it  would  come  in  peace.  A  dungeon  on 
one  of  the  seven  hills,  or  a  burning  pile  iu  London, 
was  all  he  expected.  "  Why  do  you  talk  of  seeking 
the  crown  of  martyrdom  afar?"  asked  he.  "Preach 
the  Gospel  of  Christ  to  haughty  prelates,  and  martyr- 
dom will  not  fail  you.  What !  I  should  live  and  be 
silent?  .  .  .  never !  Let  the  blow  fall ;  I  await 
its  coming." 

The  stroke  was  spared  him.  The  war  between  two 
wicked  priests,  Urban  and  Clement,  left  the  disciples 
of  our  Lord  in  peace.  And,  besides,  was  it  worth 
while  cutting  short  a  life  that  was  drawing  to  a  close? 
Wickliffe,  therefore,  continued  tranquilly  to  preach 
Jesus  Christ;  and  on  the  29th  December,  1384:,  as  he 
was  in  his  church  at  Lutterworth,  in  the  midst  of  his 
flock,  at  the  very  moment  that  he  stood  before  the 
altar,  and  was  elevating  the  host  with  trembling  hands, 
he  fell  upon  the  pavemeut  struck  with  paralysis.  He 
was  carried  to  his  house  by  the  affectionate  friends 
around  him,  and  after  lingering  forty-eight  hours,  re- 
signed his  soul  to  God  on  the  last  day  of  the  year. 

Thus  was  removed  from  the  Church  one  of  the 
boldest  witnesses  to  the  truth.  The  seriousness  of  his 
language,  the  holiness  of  his  life,  and  the  energy  of  his 
faith,  had  intimidated  the  popedom.  Travellers  relate 
that  if  a  lion  is  met  in  the  desert,  it  is  sufficient  to  look 
steadily  at  him,  and  the  beast  turns  away  roaring  from 
the  eye  of  man.  Wickliffe  had  fixed  the  eye  of  a 
Christian  on  the  papacy,  and  the  affrighted  papacy 
had  left  him  iu  peace.  Hunted  down  unceasingly 
while  living,  he  died  iu  quiet,  at  the  very  moment 
when  by  faith  he  was  eating  the  flesh  and  drinking  the 
blood  which  give  eternal  life.  A  glorious  end  to  a 
glorious  life. 

The  Reformation  of  England  had  begun. 

Wickliffe  is  the  greatest  English  reformer :  he  was, 
iu  truth,  the  first  reformer  of  Christendom;  and  to  him, 
under  God,  Britain  is  indebted  for  the  honour  of  being 
the  foremost  in  the  attack  upon  the  theocratic  system 
of  Gregory  VII.  The  work  of  the  Waldenses,  excel- 
lent as  it  was,  cannot  be  compared  to  his.  If  Luther 
and  Calvin  are  the  fathers  of  the  Reformation,  Wick- 
liffe is  its  gi'andfather. 

AVickliffe,  like  most  great  men,  possessed  qualities 
which  are  not  generally  found  together.  While  hia 
understanding  was  eminently  speculative — his  treatise 
on  the  "  Reality  of  Universal  Ideas  "  made  a  sensation 
in  philosophy — he  possessed  that  practical  and  active 
mind  which  characterizes  the  Anglo-Saxon  race.  As 
a  divine,  he  was  at  once  scriptural  and  spiritual,  soundly 
orthodox,  and  possessed  of  an  inward  and  lively  faith. 


WICKLIFFE'S  ECCLESIASTICAL  VIEWS. 


589 


With  a  boldness  that  impelled  him  to  rush  into  the 
midst  of  daiigcr,  he  combined  a  logical  and  consistent 
mind,  which  constantly  led  him  forward  in  knowledge, 
and  caused  him  to  maintain  with  perseverance  the 
truths  he  had  once  proclaimed.  First  of  all,  as  a 
Christian,  he  had  devoted  his  strength  to  the  cause  of 
the  Church ;  but  ho  was,  at  the  same  time,  a  citizen, 
and  the  realm,  his  nation,-  and  his  king,  had  also  a 
great  share  in  his  unwearied  activity,  lie  was  a  man 
complete. 

If  the  man  is  admirable,  his  teaching  is  no  less  so. 
Scripture,  which  is  the  rule  of  truth,  should  be  (accord- 
ing to  his  views)  the  rule  of  reformation,  and  we  must 
reject  every  doctrine  and  every  precept  which  does  not 
rest  ou  that  foundation.'  To  believe  iu  the  power  of 
man  in  the  work  of  regeneration  is  the  great  heresy  of 
Rome,  and  from  that  error  has  come  the 
Church.  Conversion  proceeds 
from  the  grace  of  God  alone, 
and  the  system  which  asei  ibes 
it  partly  to  man  and  partly  to 
God,  is  worse  than  Pelagian- 
ism.  Christ  is  everything  in 
Christianity;  whosoever  aban- 
dons that  fountain  which  is 
ever  ready  to  impart  life,  and 
turns  to  muddy  and  stagnant 
waters,  is  a  madman.  Faith 
is  a  gift  of  God ;  it  puts  aside 
all  merit,  and  should  banibli  all 
fear  from  the  mind.  The  one 
thing  needful  in  the  Christian 
life  and  in  tiie  Lord's  Supper, 
is  not  a  vain  formalism  and 
superstitious  rites,  but  com- 
munion with  Christ  accoulin 
to  the  power  of  the  spintiiil 
life.  Let  Christians  sulmiit 
not  to  the  word  of  a  piiLst, 
but  to  the  "Word  of  God.  In 
the  primitive  Church  tlieie 
were  but  two  orders,  the  dea- 
con and  the  priest :  the  pres- 
byter and  the  bishop  were  one. 

The    sublimest  calling   which  ^=rz^  ~-~'^ 

man  can  attain  on  earth  is  that  ' 

of  preaching  tlie  Word  of  God. 

Tlie  true  Church  is  the  assembly  of  the  righteous  for 
whom  Christ  shed  His  blood.  So  long  as  Ciirist  is 
in  heaven,  in  Him  the  Church  possesses  the  best  pope. 
It  is  possible  for  a  pope  to  be  condemned  at  the  last 
day  because  of  his  sins.  AVoukl  men  compel  us  to 
recognise  as  our  head  "a  devil  of  hell?'"'  Such  were 
the  essential  points  of  AVickliffe's  doctrine.  It  was  the 
echo  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Apostles — the  prelude  to 
that  of  the  reformers. 

In  many  respects  Wickliffo  is  the  Luther  of  England; 
but  the  times  of  revival  had  not  3-et  come,  and  the 
English  reformer  could  not  gain  such  striking  victories 

1  "The  n'lt'i'^vity  of  H'0\  ^' ripture, 


over  Rome  as  the  German  reformer.  While  Luther 
was  surrounded  by  an  ever-increasing  number  of 
scholars  and  princes,  who  confessed  the  same  faith 
as  liimsclf,  Wickliffe  shone  almost  alone  in  the  firma- 
ment of  the  Church.  The  boldness  with  which  he 
substituted  a  living  spirituality  for  a  superstitious  for- 
malism, caused  those  to  shrink  back  in  affright  who 
had  gone  with  him  .igainst  friars,  priests,  and  popes. 
Erelong  the  Roman  pontiff  ordered  him  to  be  thrown 
into  prison,  and  the  monks  threiitened  his  life ;  but 
God  protected  him,  and  he  remained  calm  amidst  the 
machinations  of  his  adversaries.  "Antichrist,"  said 
he,  "  can  only  kill  the  body."  Having  one  foot  in  the 
grave  already,  he  foretold,  that  from  the  very  bosom  of 
monkery  would  some  day  proceed  the  regeneration  of 
tlie  Ciiurch.     "If  the  friars,  whom  God  condescends 


icli,  -Jhall  be  converted  to  the 


relisriou 


ST.    P  A  U  L*S    CROSS. 

of  Christ,"  said  he,  "we  shall  see  them  abamloning 
their  unbelief,  returning  freely,  with  or  without  tlie 
permission  of  Antichrist,  to  the  primitive  religion 
of  the  Lord,  and  building  up  the  Church,  as  did  St. 
Paul." 

Thus  did  Wickliffe's  piercing  glance  discover,  at  the 
distance  of  nearly  a  century  and  a-half,  the  young 
monk  Luther  in  the  Augustine  convent  at  Erfurt,  con- 
verted by  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans,  and  returning  to 
the  spirit  of  St.  Paul  and  the  religion  of  Jesus  Christ. 
Time  was  hastening  on  to  the  fulfilment  of  this  pro- 
phecy. "  The  ri.sing  sun  of  the  Reformation,"  for  so 
has  Wickliffe  been  called,  had  appeared  above  the 
horizon,  and  its  beams  were  no  more  to  be  extin- 
guished. In  vain  will  thick  clouds  veil  it  at  times ; 
the  distant  hill-tops  of  Eastern  Europe  will  soon 
reflect  its  rays;  and  its  piercing  light,  increasing  in 


HISTORY  OF  THE  EEFORMATION. 


brightness,  will  pour  over  all  the  world,  at  the  hour 
of  the  Church's  renovation,  floods  of  knowledge  and 
of  life. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Tlie  Wickliffltcs— Call  fur  Reform— Eichard  11.— The  first  Martyr— Lord 
Cobliam— Appears  before  Henry  V.— Bcfoie  the  Archbishoi)— His  Con- 
fession and  Deatli— The  Lollards. 

Wickliffe's  death  manifested  the  power  of  his  teach- 
ing. The  master  being  removed,  his  disciples  set  their 
hands  to  the  plough,  and  England  was  almost  won 
over  to  the  refoi-nier's  doctrines.  The  WicklilRtes  re- 
cognised a  ministry  independent  of  Kome,  and  deriving 
authority  from  the  Word  of  God  alone.  "Every 
minister,"  said  they,  "  can  administer  the  sacraments 
and  confer  the  cure  of  souls  as  well  as  the  pope."  To 
the  licentious  wealth  of  the  clergy  they  opposed  a 
Christian  poverty,  and  to  the  degenerate  asceticism  of 
the  mendicant  orders,  a  sjiiritual  and  free  life.  The 
townsfolk  crowded  around  these  humble  preachers ; 
the  soldiers  listened  to  them,  armed  with  sword  and 
buckler  to  defend  them ;  the  nobility  took  down  the 
images  from  their  baronial  chapels ;  and  even  the 
royal  family  was  partly  won  over  to  the  Reformation. 
England  was  like  a  tree  cut  down  to  the  ground,  from 
whose  roots  fresh  buds  are  shooting  out  on  every  side, 
erelong  to  cover  all  the  earth  beneath  their  shade. 

Tills  augmented  the  courage  of  Wickliffe's  disciples, 
and  in  many  places  the  people  took  the  initiative  in 
the  reform.  The  walls  of  St.  Paul's  and  other  cathe- 
drals were  hung  with  placards  aimed  at  the  priests  and 
friars,  and  the  abuses  of  which  they  were  the  defenders  ; 
and  in  1395  the  friends  of  the  Gospel  petitioned  parlia- 
ment for  a  general  reform.  "The  essence  of  the  wor- 
ship which  comes  from  Rome,"  said  they,  "  consists  in 
signs  and  ceremonies,  and  not  in  the  efficacy  of  the 
Ilcdy  Cihost;  and  therefore  it  is  not  that  which  Christ 
has  ordained.  Temporal  things  are  distinct  from 
spiritual  things:  a  king  and  a  bishop  ought  not  to  be 
one  and  the  same  person."  And  then,  from  not  clearly 
understanding  the  principle  of  the  separation  of  the 
functions  which  they  proclaimed,  they  called  upon 
parliament  to  "abolish  celibacy,  transubstantiation, 
prayers  for  the  dead,  offei-ings  to  images,  auricular 
confession,  war,  the  arts  unnecessary  to  life,  the  prac- 
tice of  blessing  oil,  salt,  wax,  iucense,  stones,  mitres, 
and  pilgrim's  staffs.  All  these  pertain  to  necromancy, 
and  not  to  theology."  Emboldened  by  the  absence  of 
the  king  in  Ireland,  they  fixed  their  Twelve  Conclusions 
on  the  gates  of  St.  Paul's  and  Westminster  Abbey. 
This  became  the  signal  for  persecution. 

As  soon  as  Arundel,  archbishop  of  York,  and  Bray- 
brookc,  bishop  of  London,  had  read  these  propositions, 
they  hastily  crossed  St.  George's  Channel,  and  conjured 
the  king  to  return  to  England.  The  prince  hesitated 
not  to  comply,  for  his  wife,  the  pious  Anne  of  Luxem- 
burg, was  dead.  Richard,  during  childhood  and  youth, 
had  been  committed  in  succession  to  the  charge  of 
several  guardians,  and  like  children  (says  an  historian) 
whose  nurses  have  been  often  changed,  he  thrived  none 


the  better  for  it.  He  did  good  or  evil  according  to  the 
influence  of  those  around  him,  and  had  no  decided  in- 
clinations except  for  ostentation  and  licentiousness. 
The  clergy  were  not  mistaken  in  calculating  on  such  a 
prince.  On  his  return  to  London  he  forbade  the  parlia- 
ment to  take  the  Wickliffite  petition  into  consideration; 
and  having  summoned  before  him  the  most  distin- 
guished of  its  supporters,  such  as  Story,  Clifford, 
Latimer,  and  Montacute,  he  threatened  them  with 
death  if  they  continued  to  defend  their  abomiiia1)!c 
opinions.  Tlius  was  the  work  of  the  reformer  about 
to  be  destroyed. 

But  Richard  had  hardly  withdrawn  his  hand  from 
the  Gospel,  when  God  (says  the  annalist)  withdrew 
His  hand  from  him.'  His  cousin,  Henry  of  Hereford, 
son  of  the  famous  Duke  of  Lancaster,  and  who  had 
been  banished  from  England,  suddenly  sailed  from  the 
Continent,  lauded  in  Yorkshire,  gathered  all  the  mal- 
contents around  him,  and  was  acknowledged  king. 
The  unhappy  Richard,  after  being  formally  deposed, 
was  confined  in  Pontefract  castle,  where  he  soon  ter- 
minated his  earthly  career. 

The  son  of  Wickliffe's  old  defender  was  now  king: 
a  reform  of  the  Church  seemed  imminent;  but  the  pri- 
mate Arundel  had  foreseen  the  danger.  This  cunning 
priest  and  skilful  politician  had  observed  which  way 
tlie  wind  blew,  and  deserted  Richard  in  good  time. 
Taking  Lancaster  by  the  hand,  he  put  the  crown  on 
his  head,  saying  to  him :  "  To  consolidate  your  throne, 
conciliate  the  clergy,  and  sacrifice  the  Lollards." — "  I 
will  be  the  protector  of  the  Church,"  replied  Henry 
IV.;  and  from  that  hour  the  power  of  the  priests  was 
greater  than  the  power  of  the  nobility.  Rome  has 
ever  been  adroit  in  profiting  by  revolutions. 

Lancaster,  in  his  eagerness  to  shew  his  gratitude  to 
the  priests,  ordered  tliat  every  incorrigible  heretic 
should  be  biu-ut  alive,  to  terrify  his  companions.' 
Practice  followed  close  upon  the  theory.  A  pious 
priest,  named  William  Sawtre,  had  presumed  to  say: 
"Instead  of  adoring  the  cross  on  wiiich  Christ  suffered, 
I  adore  Christ  who  suffered  on  it."  He  was  dragged 
to  St.  Paul's ;  his  hair  was  shaved  off ;  a  layman's  cap 
was  placed  on  his  head ;  and  the  primate  handed  him 
over  to  the  mej-ci/  of  the  earl-marshal  of  England. 
This  mercii  was  shewn  him — he  was  burnt  alive  at 
Smithfield  in  the  beginning  of  March,  l-lOl.  Sawtre 
was  the  first  martyr  to  Protestantism. 

Encouraged  by  this  act  of  faith — this  auto  da  fe — 
the  clergy  drew  up  the  articles  known  as  the  "  Consti- 
tutions of  Arundel,"  which  forbade  the  reading  of  the 
Bible,  and  styled  the  pope,  "  not  a  mere  man,  but  a 
true  God."  The  Lollards'  tower,  in  the  archiepiscopal 
palace  of  Lambeth,  was  soon  filled  with  pretended 
heretics,  many  of  whom  carved  on  the  walls  of  their 
dungeons  the  expression  of  their  sorrow  and  tlieir 
hopes :  Jesus  amor  meus,  wrote  one  of  them.'' 

To  crush  the  lowly  was  not  enough :  the  Gospel 
must  be  driven  from  the  more  exalted  stations.  The 
priests,  who  were  sincere  in  their  belief,  regarded  those 
noblemen  as  misleaders  who  set  the  Word  of  God  above 

1  Faxc,  Ads,  i.,  p.  584,  fol.,  Load.,  1GS4. 

2  This  is  the  statute  known  as  2  Henry  IV.,  c.  15,  tlie  fust  actual  law  in 
En,.;land  against  heresy. — Ibid.,  p.  58li. 

3  "Jesus  is  my  love."    These  wordy  are  still  to  bo  re.id  in  tlie  tower. 


LORD  COBHAM  BEFORE  THE  ARCHBISHOP. 


the  laws  of  Kome  ;  :iud  accordingly  they  girded  tliem- 
sclves  for  the  worl^.  A  few  miles  from  Rochester 
stood  Cowling  Castle,  in  the  midst  of  the  fertile  pas- 
tures watered  by  tlie  Jledway, 

"The  lair  Mivlwaya  that  with  wanton  yMo 
Forms  .silver  nm2es  with  her  crookctl  tidi.'." 

In  the  beginning  of  the  fifteenth  century  it  was 
inhabited  by  Sir  John  Oldcastle,  Lord  Cobham,  a  man 
in  high  favour  with  the  king.  TIic  "poor  priests" 
thronged  to  Cowling  in  quest  of  Wicklift'e'a  writings, 
of  which  Cobham  had  caused  uumcrous  copies  to  be 
made,  and  whence  they  were  circulated  through  the 
dioceses  of  Canterbury,  Rochester,  London,  and  Hert- 
ford. Cobiuini  attended  their  preaching ;  and  if  any 
enemies  ventured  to  interrupt  them,  he  tlireatened 
them  with  his  sword.  "I  would  sooner  risk  my  life," 
said  he,  "than  submit  to  such  unjust  decrees  as  dis- 
honour the  everhisting  Testament."  The  king  would 
not  permit  the  clergy  to  lay  hands  on  his  favourite. 

lint  Henry  V.  having  succeeded  his  father  in  1413, 
and  passed  from  tlie  house  of  ill-fame  he  had  hitherto 
frequented,  to  the  foot  of  the  altars  and  the  head  of 
the  armies,  the  archbishop  immediately  denounced 
Cobham  to  him,  and  he  was  summoned  to  appear  be- 
fore the  king.  Sir  John  had  understood  AVickliffe's 
doctrine,  and  experienced  in  his  own  person  the  miglit 
of  the  Divine  Word.  "  As  touching  the  pope  and  his 
spirituality,"  he  said  to  the  king,  "I  owe  them  neither 
suit  nor  service,  forasmuch  as  I  know  him  by  the  Scrip- 
tures to  be  the  great  antichrist."  Henry  thrust  aside 
Cobham's  haud  as  he  presented  his  confession  of  faith : 
"I  will  not  receive  this  paper;  lay  it  before  your  judges." 
When  he  saw  his  profession  refused,  Cobham  had 
recourse  to  the  only  arm  wliich  he  knew  of  out  of  the 
Gospel.  The  differences  which  we  now  settle  by 
pampldets  were  then  very  commonly  settled  by  the 
sword :  "  I  offer,  in  defence  of  my  faith,  to  fight  for 
life  or  death  with  any  man  living.  Christian  or  pagan, 
always  excepting  your  majesty."  Cobham  was  led  to 
the  Tower. 

On  the  23d  September,  1413,  he  was  taken  before 
the  ecclesiastical  tribunal  then  sitting  at  St.  Paul's. 
*'  We  must  believe,"  said  the  primate  to  him,  "  what 
the  holy  church  of  Rome  teaches,  without  demanding 
Christ's  authority."  "Believe!"  shouted  the  priests, 
'•believe!" — "I  am  willing  to  believe  all  that  God 
desires,"  said  Sir  John;  "but  that  the  pope  should 
have  authority  to  teach  what  is  contrary  to  Scripture 
— that  I  can  never  believe."  He  was  led  back  to  the 
Tower.     The  Word  of  God  was  to  have  its  martyr. 

On  Monday,  2,)th  September,  a  crowd  of  priests, 
canons,  friars,  clerks,  and  indulgence-sellers,  thronged 
the  large  hall  of  the  Dominican  convent,  and  attacked 
Lord  Cobham  with  abusive  language.  These  insults, 
the  importance  of  the  moment  for  the  Reformation  ot 
Englaud,  the  catastrophe  that  must  needs  close  the 
scene, — all  agitated  his  soul  to  its  very  depths.  AVhen 
the  archbishop  called  upon  him  to  confess  his  offence, 
be  fell  on  his  knees,  and  lifting  up  his  hands  to  heaven, 
exclaimed:  "I  confess  to  Thee,  O  God!  and  acknow- 
ledge that  in  my  frail  youth  I  seriously  offeuded  Thee, 
by  my  pride,  auger,  intemperance,  aud  impurity:  for 
these  offences  I  implore  thy  mercy!"  Then  standing 
up,  his  face  still  wet  with  tears,  he  said :  "  I  ask  not 


your  absolution;  it  is  God's  only  that  I  need."  The 
clergy  did  not  despair,  however,  of  reducing  this  high- 
s[)iriled  gentleman:  they  knew  that  spiritual  strength 
is  not  always  conjoined  with  bodily  vigour,  and  they 
hoped  to  vanquish  by  priestly  sophisms  the  man  who 
dared  challenge  the  papal  champions  to  single  combat. 
"  Sir  John,"  said  the  primate  at  last,  "you  have  said 
some  very  strange  things;  we  have  spent  much  time  in 
endeavours  to  convuice  you,  but  all  to  no  effect.  The 
day  passeth  away:  you  must  either  sidimit  yourself  to 
the  ordinance  of  the  most  holy  church."  .  .  .  . — 
"1  will  uoue  otherwise  believe  than  what  I  have  told 
you.  Do  with  me  what  you  will." — "  Well,  then,  we 
must  needs  do  the  law,"  the  archbishop  made  answer. 

Arundel  stood  up;  all  the  priests  and  people  rose 
with  him  and  uncovered  their  heads.  Then,  holding 
the  sentence  of  death  in  his  hand,  he  read  it  with  a 
loud  clear  voice.  "It  is  well,"  said  Sir  John ;  "  though 
you  condemu  my  body,  you  can  do  no  harm  to  my  soul, 
by  the  grace  of  my  eternal  God."  He  was  again  led 
back  to  the  Tower,  whence  he  escaped  one  night,  and 
took  refuge  in  Wales.  He  was  retaken  in  December, 
1417,  carried  to  London,  dragged  on  a  hurdle  to  Saint 
Giles's  fields,  and  there  suspended  by  chains  over  a  slow 
fire,  aud  cruelly  burned  to  death.  Thus  died  a  Chris- 
tian, illustrious  after  the  fashion  of  his  age — a  cham- 
pion of  the  AVord  of  God.  The  London  prisons  were 
filled  with  Wickliffites,  and  it  was  decreed  that  they 
should  be  hung  on  the  king's  account,  and  burnt  for 
God's. 

The  intimidated  Lollards  were  compelled  to  hide 
themselves  in  the  humblest  ranks  of  the  people,  and  to 
hold  their  meetings  in  secret.  The  work  of  redemption 
was  proceeding  noiselessly  among  the  elect  of  God. 
Of  these  Lollards,  there  were  many  who  had  been 
redeemed  by  Jesus  Christ;  but  in  general  they  knew 
not,  to  the  same  extent  as  the  Evangelical  Christians 
of  the  sixteenth  century,  the  quickening  and  justifying 
power  of  faith.  TLey  were  plain,  meek,  and  often 
timid  folks,  attracted  by  the  Word  of  God,  affected  at 
the  condemnation  it  pronounces  against  the  erroi-s  of 
Rome,  aud  desirous  of  living  according  to  its  command- 
ments. God  had  assigned  them  a  part — and  an  im- 
portant part  too — in  the  great  transformation  of  Chris- 
tianity. Their  humble  piety,  their  passive  resistance, 
the  shameful  treatment  which  they  bore  with  resigna- 
tion, the  penitent's  robes  with  which  they  were  covered, 
the  tapers  they  were  compelled  to  hold  at  the  church- 
door — all  these  things  betrayed  the  pride  of  the  priests, 
and  filled  the  most  generous  minds  with  doubts  and 
vague  desires.  By  a  baptism  of  suffering,  God  was 
then  preparing  the  way  to  a  glorious  reformation. 


CHAPTER  X. 

Leai-ning  at  Florence— The  Tiulors— Erasmus  visits  England— Sir  Thomas 
More— Dean  Colet— Erasmus  and  young  Henry— Prince  Arthur-  and 
Catherine  —  Marriage  and  Death  —  Catherine  Betrothed  to  Henry- 
Accession  of  Henry  VIII. —Enthusiasm  of  the  Learned  —  Erasiuas 
necalled  to  England- Cromwell  before  the  Pope— Catherine  proposed 
to  Henry— Their  Mar-riage  and  Court— Tournaments— Henry's  Danger. 

This  reformation  was  to  be  the  result  of  two  distinct 
forces — the  revival  of  learning  and  the  resurrection  of 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


the  "Word  of  God.  The  latter  was  the  principal  cause ; 
but  the  former  was  necessary  as  a  meaus.  Without  it 
the  living  waters  of  the  Gospel  would  probably  have 


/>-  .; 


W: 


BURNING  AT  SMITHFIELD 

tiaversed  the  age,  like  summer  sti  earns  which  soon  dry 
up,  such  as  tho'.e  whith  had  buist  foith  liere  and  there 
during  the  Middle  Ages ;  it  would  not  have  become  that 
majestic  river,  which,  by  its  inundations,  fertilized  all 


humanism  (the  study  of  the  Classics)  were  the  two 
laboratories  of  the  reform.    We  have  seen  the  prepara- 
tions of  the  one,  we  must  now  trace  the  commencement 
of  the  other ;  and  as  we  have  discovered 
liie  light  in  the  lowly  valleys,  we  shall 
dibcern  it  also  on  the  lofty  mountain  tops. 
About  the  end  of  the  fifteenth  century 
vc\  ei  \\  young   Englishmen  chanced  to 
be  at  Florence,  attracted  thither  by  the 
litei  ary  glory  which  environed  the  city 
of  the  Medici.     Cosmo  had  collected  to- 
gether a  great  number  of  worlds  of  anti- 
quity, and  his  palace  was  thronged  with 
I  ~ir*i  learned  men.     William  Selling,  a  young 
~~ir~Euglibh  ecclesiastic,  afterwards  distin- 
^      "uished  at   Canterbury  by  his  zeal  in 
>i     j  V^       t  )llocting  valuable  manuscripts;  his  fel- 
,.   h      J'^'Pl  u -countrymen,    Grocyn,    Lilly,    and 
1  itimer,  "more  bashful  than  a  maiden;" 
md,  above  all,  Linaere,  whom  Erasmus 
i\  inked  before  all  the  scliolars  of  Italy, 
— used  to  meet,  in  the  delicious  vilLa  of 
ihc  Medici,  with  Politian,  Chalcondyles, 
Lud  other  men  of  learning;  and  there, 
in  the  calm  evenings  of  summer,  under 
that  glorious  Tuscan  sky,  they  dreamt 
romantic  visions  of  the  Platonic  philo- 
sophy   When  they  returned  to  England, 
these  learned  men  laid  before  the  youth  of 
Oxfoid  the  raar\ellous  treasures  of  the  Greek  language. 
Some  Italians  even,  attracted  by  the  desire  to  enlighten 
the  barbarians,  and  a  little,  it  may  be,  by  the  brilliant 
offers  made  them,  quitted  their  beloved  country  for 
the  distant  Britain.     Cornelius 
Vitelli  taught  at   Oxford,  and 
Cains  Amberino  at  Cambridge. 
Caxton   imported    the    art    of 
printing  from  Germany,  and  the 
nation,  h.ailed  with  enthusiasm 
tlie  brilliant  dawn  which  was 
eaking  at  last  in  their  cloudy 


;*r 


.1" 


ll 


b 


^^^>i. 


PONTEFRACT  CASTLE. 

ilh      It  was  nLce-.saiy  to  discover  and  examine 
i_iuil  fount  iins,  and  for  this  end  the  study  of 


Gieek  xnd  IIi.bio\\  was  indispensable,    Lollardism  and 


i^'  '  ^  '  While  learning  was  reviving 

^  m  England,  a  cew  dynasty  suc- 

I    tded  to  the  throne,  bringing 

IN  ith  it  that  energy  of  character 

N  Inch  of  itself  is  able  to  effect 

cat  revolutions:    the  Tudors 

ceeded     the      Plantagenets. 

I  li  it  inflexible  intrepidity  by 
^44^'.,  which  the  reformers  of  Ger- 
"'*"^      m  in} ,  Switzerland,  France,  and 

S(  otland,    were     distinguished, 
li  1   not    exist    so   generally  in 

II  se  of  England;   but  it  was 
)'K,                                        t   und  in  the  character  of  her 

kiug»,  who  often  stretched  it 
even  to  violence.  It  may  be, 
4  /'^  ^^"  "j^^""  "'  that  to  this  preponderance  of 
energy  in  its  rulers,  the  Cliurch 
owes  the  preponderance  of  the 
State  in  its  affairs. 

Henry  Tudor,  the  Louis  XI.  of  England,  was  a 
clever  prince,   of   decided   but   suspicious   character, 


ERASMUS  IN  ENGLAND. 


nvaricious  nnd  narrow-minded.  Being  descended  from 
a  Welsh  family,  he  belonged  to  that  ancient  race  of 
Celts,  who  had  so  long  contended  against  the  papacy. 
Henry  had  extinguished  faction  at  home,  and  tanght 
foreign  nations  to  respect  his  power.  A  good  genius 
seemed  to  exercise  a  salutary  influence  over  his  court 
as   well    as  over   hims.lf:    tliis   was   his   mother,    tlic 


CHANTRY  Of  HENRV  V.,  WESTMINSTER   ABBEV. 

Countess  of  Eichmond.  From  her  closet,  where  she 
consecrated  the  first  five  hours  of  the  day  to  reading, 
meditation,  and  prayer,  she  moved  to  another  part  of 
the  palace  to  dress  the  wounds  of  some  of  the  lowest 
mcudicants ;  thence  she  passed  into  the  gay  saloons, 
where  she  would  converse  with  the  scholars,  whom  she 
encouraged  by  her  munificence.  Tliis  noble  lady's  pas- 
sion for  study,  of  which  her  son  inherited  but  little, 
was  not  williout  its  influence  in  her  family.  Arthur 
and  Henry,  the  king's  eldest  sous,  trembled  in  their 
father's  presence;  but,  captivated  by  the  affection  of 
their  pious  grandmother,  they  began  to  find  a  pleasure 
in  tlic  society  of  learned  men.  An  important  circum- 
stance gave  a  new  impulse  to  one  of  them. 

Among  the  countess's  friends  was  Moutjoy,  who  had 
known  Erasmus  at  I'aris,  and  heard  his  cutting  sar- 
casms upon  the  schoolmen  and  friars.  He  invited  the 
illustrious  Dutchman  to  England ;  and  Erasmus,  who 
w.as  fearful  of  catching  the  plague,  gladly  accepted  the 
invitation,  and  set  out  for  what  he  believed  to  be  the 
kingdom  of  darkness.  But  he  had  not  been  long  in 
England  before  he  discovered  unexpected  light. 

Shortly  after  his  arrival,  happening  to  dine  with  the 
lord-mayor,  Erasmus  noticed  on  the  other  side  of  the 
table  a  young  man  of  nineteen,  slender,  fresh-coloured, 


with  blue  eyes,  coarse  hands,  and  the  right  shoulder 
somewhat  higher  than  the  other.  His  features  indi- 
cated affability  and  gaiety;  and  pleasant  jests  were 
continually  dropping  from  his  lips.  If  he  could  not 
find  a  joke  in  English,  he  would  in  French,  and  even 
in  Latin  or  Greek.  A  literary  contest  soon  ensued  be- 
tween Erasmus  and  the  English  youth.  The  former, 
astonished  at  meeting  with  any  one  that  could  hold  his 
own  agaiust  him,  exclaimed:  ^^ Aiit  tii  es  3lonis  aut 
milhts!"  (you  arc  either  More  or  nobody;)  and  his 
companion,  who  had  not  learnt  the  stranger's  name, 
quickly  replied:  ^'■Aiit  fu  es  Erasmus  aut  diabohis .' " 
(you  are  either  the  devil  or  Erasmus.)  More  flung 
liimself  into  the  arms  of  Erasmus,  and  they  became 
inseparable  friends.  More  was  continually  joking,  even 
with  women,  teasing  the  young  maidens,  and  making 
fun  of  the  dull,  though  without  any  tinge  of  ill-nature 
in  his  jests.  But  under  this  sportive  exterior  he  con- 
cealed a  deep  understanding.  He  was  at  that  time 
lecturing  on  Augustine's  "City  of  God"  before  a 
numerous  audience,  composed  of  pi-iests  and  aged  men. 
The  thought  of  eternity  had  seized  him ;  and  being 
ignorant  of  that  internal  discipline  of  the  Holy  Ghost, 
which  is  the  only  true  discipline,  he  had  recourse  to 
the  scourge  on  every  Friday.  Thomas  More  is  the 
ideal  of  the  Catholicism  of  this  period.  He  had,  like 
the  Romish  system,  two  ])oles — worldliness  and  asceti- 
cism ;  which,  although  contrary,  often  meat  together. 
In  fact,  asceticism  makes  a  sacrifice  of  self,  only  to 
preserve  it;  just  as  a  traveller  attacked  by  robbers 
will  readily  give  up  a  portion  of  his  treasures  to  save 
the  rest.  This  was  the  case  with  Slore,  if  we  rightly 
understand  his  character.  He  sacrificed  the  accessories 
of  his  fallen  nature  to  save  that  same  nature.  He  sub- 
mitted to  fasts  and  vigils,  wore  a  shirt  of  hair-cloth, 
mortified  his  body  by  small  chains  next  his  skin — in 
a  word,  he  immolated  everything  in  order  to  preserve 
that  se/^' which  a  real  regeneration  alone  can  sacrifice. 

From  London  Erasmus  went  to  Oxford,  where  he 
met  with  John  Colet,  a  friend  of  More's,  but  older,  and 
of  very  dissimilar  character.  Colet,  the  scion  of  an 
ancient  family,  was  a  very  portly  man,  of  imposing 
aspect,  great  fortune,  and  elegance  of  manners,  to 
which  Erasmus  had  not  been  accustomed.  Oi'der, 
cleanliness,  and  decorum,  prevailed  in  his  person  and 
in  his  house.  He  kept  an  excellent  table,  which  was 
open  to  all  the  friends  of  learning,  and  at  which  the 
Dutchman,  no  great  admirer  of  the  colleges  of  Paris 
with  their  sour  wine  and  stale  eggs,  was  glad  to  take 
a  seat.  He  there  met  also  most  of  the  classical  scholars 
of  England,  especially  Grocyn,  Linacre,  Thomas  Wol- 
sey,  bursar  of  Magdalene  College,  Halsey,  and  some 
others.  "I  cannot  tell  you  how  I  am  delighted  with 
your  England,"  he  wrote  to  Lord  Montjoy  from  Oxford. 
"  "With  such  men  I  could  willingly  live  in  the  farthest 
coasts  of  Scythia." 

But  if  Erasmus  on  the  banks  of  the  Thames  found 
a  Maecenas  in  Lord  Montjoy,  a  Labeo,  and  perhaps  a 
Virgil,  in  More,  he  nowhere  found  an  Augustus.  One 
day  as  he  was  expressing  his  regrets  and  his  fears  to 
More,  the  latter  said:  "Come,  let  us  go  to  Eltham, 
jierhaps  we  shall  find  there  what  you  are  looking  for." 
They  set  out.  More  jesting  all  the  way,  inwardly 
resolving  to  expiate  his  gaiety  by  a  severe  scourging 
2q 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


at  night.    Ou  their  arrival  they  were  heartily  welcomed 
I     by  Lord  and  Lady  Montjoy,  tiie  governor  and  gover- 
ness   of   the   king's    children.      As    the    two    friends 
I     entered   the   hall,    a   pleasing  and    unexpected    sight 
j     greeted    Erasmus.      The   whole    of   the    family   were 
I     assembled;    and    they    found   themselves    surrounded 
j     rot  only  by  some  of  the  royal  household,  but  by  the 
domestics  of  Lord  Montjoy  also.     Ou  the  right  stood 
the  Princess  Margaret,  a  girl  of  eleven  years,  whose 
great-grandson,  under  the  name  of  Stuart,  was  to  con- 
tinue the  Tudor  Hue  in  England ;  on  the  left  was  Mary, 
a  child  four  years  of  age  ;  Edmund  was  in  his  nurse's 
arms ;  and  in  the  middle  of  the  circle,  between  his  two 
sisters,  stood  a  boy,  at  that  time  only  nine  years  old, 
whose  handsome  features,   royal   carriage,  intelligent 
eye,    and    exquisite    courtesy,    had    an    extraordinary 
cliarm  for  Erasmus.     That  boy  was  Pleniy,  duke  of 
York,  the  king's  second  son,  born  on  the  28th  June, 
I     149L      More,  advancing  towards   the  young  prince, 
j     presented  to  him  some  piece  of  his  own  writing;  and 
from  that  hour  Erasmus  kept  up  a  friendly  intercourse 
!     with  Henry,  which,  in  all  probability,  exercised  a  cer- 
;     taij!   influence   over  the   destinies   of    England.      Tlie 
j     scliolar  of  Rotterdam  was  delighted  to  see  the  prince 
j     excel  in  all  the  manly  sports  of  the  day.     He  sat  his 
I     horse    with   perfect  grace  and  rare  intrepidity,  could 
;     hurl  a  javelin  farther  than  any  of  liis  companions,  and, 
j     having  an  excellent  taste  for  music,  he  was  already  a 
[     performer  ou  several  instruments.     The  king  took  care 
j     that  he  should  receive  a  learned  education,  for  he  des- 
tined him  to  fill  the  see  of  Canterbury;   and  the  illus- 
trious Erasmus,  noticing  his  aptitude  for  everything  he 
undertook,  did  his  best  to  cut  and  polish  this  English 
diamond  that  it  might  glitter  with  the  greater  brilliancy. 
"  He  will  begin  nothing  that  he  will  not  finish,"  said 
the  scholar.     And  it  is  but  too  true,  that  this  prince 
always  attained  his  end,  even  if  it  were  necessary  to 
tread  on  the  bleeding  bodies  of  those  he  had  loved. 
Flattered  by  the  attentions  of  the  young  Henry,  at- 
tracted by   his   winning  grace,    charmed   by   his  wit, 
Erasmus,  on  his  return  to  the  Continent,  everywhere 
proclaimed  that  England  at  last  had  found  its  Octavius. 
As  for  Henry  VII.,  he  thought  of  everything  but 
Virgil  or  Augustus.     Avarice  and  ambition  were  his 
predominant  tastes,  which  he  gratified  by  the  marriage 
of  his  eldest  son  in  1501.    Burgundy,  Artois,  Provence, 
and  Brittany,  having  been  recently  united  to  France, 
the  European  powers  felt  the  necessity  of  combining 
against  that  encroaching  state.     It  was  in  consequence 
of  this  that  Ferdinand  of  Arragou  had  given  his  daugh- 
ter Joanna  to  Philip  of  Austria,  and  that  Henry  VII, 
asked  the  hand  of  his  daughter  Catherine,  then  in  her 
sixteenth  year,  and  the  richest  princess  in  Europe,  for 
Arthur,   prince  of  Wales,  a  youth  about  ten  mouths 
youuger.     The  catholic   king  made  one   condition   to 
the  marriage  of  his  daughter.     Warwick,  the  last  of 
the  Plautageuets,  and  a  pretender  to  the  crown,  was 
confined  in  the  Tower.     Ferdinand,  to  secure  the  cer- 
tainty that  Catherine  would  really  ascend  the  Englisii 
throne,  required  that  the  unhappy  prince  should  be  put 
to  death.    Nor  did  this  alone  satisfy  the  king  of  Spain. 
Henry  VII.,  who  was  not  a  cruel  man,  might  conceal 
Warwick,  and  say  that  he  was  no  more.     Ferdinand 
demanded  that  the  Chancellor  of  Castile  should  be 


present  at  the  execution.  Tlie  blood  of  Warwick  was 
shed  ;  his  head  rolled  duly  on  the  scaffold;  the  Castilian 
chancellor  verified  and  registered  the  murder ;  and  on 
the  14th  November  the  marriage  was  solemnized  at 
St.  Paul's.  At  midnight  the  prince  and  princess  were 
conducted  with  great  pomp  to  the  bridal-chamber. 
These  were  ill-omened  nuptials — fated  to  set  the  kings 
and  nations  of  Christendom  in  battle  against  eacli 
other,  and  to  serve  as  a  pretext  for  the  external  and 
political  discussions  of  the  English  Reformation.  Tiie 
marriage  of  Catherine  the  Catholic  was  a  marriage  of 
blood. 

In  the  early  part  of  1502  Prince  Arthur  fell  ill,  and 
on  the  2nd  of  April  he  died.  The  necessary  time  was 
taken  to  be  sure  that  Catherine  had  no  hope  of  becom- 
ing a  mother,  after  which  the  friend  of  Erasmus,  the 
youthful  Henry,  was  declared  heir  to  the  crown,  to  the 
great  joy  of  all  the  learned.  This  prince  did  not  for- 
sake his  studies :  he  spoke  and  wrote  in  French, 
Germ,an,  and  Spanish,  with  the  facility  of  a  native ; 
and  England  hoped  to  behold  one  day  the  most  learned 
of  Christian  kings  upon  the  throne  of  Alfred  the 
Great. 

A  very  different  question,  however,  filled  the  mind 
of  the  covetous  Henry  VII.  Must  he  restore  to 
Spain  the  two  hundred  thousand  ducats  which  formed 
Catherine's  dowry?  Shall  this  rich  heiress  be  pei-- 
mitted  to  marry  some  rival  of  England?  To  prevent 
so  great  a  misfortune,  the  king  conceived  the  project  of 
uniting  Henry  to  Arthur's  widow.  The  most  serious 
objections  were  urged  against  it.  "It  is  not  only  in- 
consistent with  i)ropriety,"  said  Warham,  the  primate, 
"but  the  will  of  God  himself  is  against  it.  It  is  de- 
clared in  His  law  that  ;/ a  man  shall  take  his  bruthers 
vife,  it  is  an  vncleaii  t/iint/,  (Lev.  xx.  21;)  and  in  the 
Gospel,  John  Baptist  says  to  Herod :  It  is  not  lawful  for 
thee  to  have  thy  brother's  icife"  (Mark  vi.  18.)  Fox, 
bishop  of  Winchester,  suggested  that  a  dispensation 
might  be  procured  from  the  pope ;  and  in  December, 
1503,  Julius  II.  granted  a  bull,  declaring  that,  for  the 
sake  of  preserving  union  between  the  Catholic  princes, 
he  authorized  Catherine's  marriage  with  the  brother  of 
her  first  husband,  accedenteforsan  copula  carnali.  These 
four  words,  it  is  said,  were  inserted  in  the  bull  at  the 
express  desire  of  the  princess.  All  these  details  will  be 
of  importance  in  the  course  of  our  history.  The  two 
parties  were  betrothed,  but  not  married,  in  considera- 
tion of  the  youth  of  the  prince  of  Wales. 

The  second  marriage  projected  by  Henry  VII.  was 
ushered  in  with  auspices  still  less  promising  than  the 
first.  The  king  having  fallen  sick,  and  lost  his  queen, 
looked  upon  these  visitations  as  a  Divine  judgment. 
The  nation  murmured,  and  demanded  wliether  it  was 
in  the  pope's  power  to  permit  what  God  had  forbidden. 
Tlie  young  priuce,  being  informed  of  his  father's 
scruples  and  of  the  people's  discontent,  declared,  just 
before  attaining  his  majority,  (27th  June,  1505,)  ia 
the  presence  of  the  Bishop  of  Winchester,  and  several 
royal  counsellors,  that  he  protested  against  the  engage- 
ment entered  into  during  his  minority,  and  that  he 
would  never  make  Catherine  his  wife. 

His  father's  death,  which  made  him  free,  made  him 
also  recall  this  virtuous  decision.  In  1509,  the  hopes 
of  the  learned  seemed  about  to  be  realized.     On  the 


CROMWELL  AND  THE  POPE. 


595 


9th  of  May,  a  lieai'se  decorated  with  regal  pomp,  bcar- 
inp:  on  a  rich  pall  of  cloth-of-gold  the  mortal  remains 
of  Henry  VIL,  witli  his  sceptre  and  his  crown,  entered 
Ijondon,  followed  by  a  long  procession.  The  great 
otlicers  of  state,  assembled  round  the  coifin,  broke  their 
staves  and  cast  them  into  the  vault,  and  the  heralds 
cried  with  a  loud  voice:  "God  send  the  noble  King 
Ilcm-y  VIIL  long  life!"  Such  a  cry,  perhaps,  had 
never  on  any  previous  occasion  been  so  joyfully  repeated 
by  the  people.  The  young  king  gratified  the  wishes  of 
the  nation  by  ordering  the  arrest  of  Empson  and 
Dudley,  who  were  charged  with  extortion ;  and  he 
conformed  to  the  enlightened  counsels  of  his  graiid- 
nidther,  by  choosing  the  most  able  ministers,  aud 
placing  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbiuy  as  lord-chan- 
cellor at  their  head.  AVarham  was  a  man  of  great 
capacity.  The  day  was  not  too  short  for  him  to  hear 
mass,  receive  ambassadors,  consult  with  the  king  in 
the  royal  closet,  entertain  as  many  as  two  Innidred 
guests  at  his  table,  take  his  seat  on  the  woolsack,  and 
tind  time  for  his  private  devotions.  The  joy  of  the 
learned  surpassed  that  of  the  people.  The  old  king 
wanted  none  of  tiieir  praises  or  congratulations,  for 
fear  he  should  have  to  pay  for  them  ;  but  now  they 
could  give  free  course  to  their  enthusiasm.  Montjoy 
pronounced  the  young  king  "  divine ;"  the  Venetian 
ambassador  likened  his  port  to  Apollo's,  and  his  noble 
chest  to  the  torso  of  Mars;  he  was  lauded  both  in 
Greek  and  Latin;  he  was  hailed  as  the  founder  of  a 
new  era;  aud  Henry  seemed  desirous  of  meriting  these 
eulogiums.  Far  from  permitting  himself  to  be  intoxi- 
cated by  so  much  adulation,  he  said  to  Jlontjoy:  "Ah! 
how  I  should  like  to  be  a  scholar!" — "Sire,"  replied 
the  courtier,  "  it  is  enough  that  you  shew  your  regard 
for  those  wlio  possess  the  learning  you  desire  for  your- 
self." "  How  can  I  do  other\vise  ? "  he  replied  witli 
earnestness;  "without  them  we  hardly  exist!"  Mont- 
joy immediately  communicated  this  to  Erasmus. 

Erasmus! — Erasmus! — the  walls  of  Eltham,  Oxford, 
and  London  resounded  with  the  name.  The  king 
could  not  live  witliout  the  learned;  nor  the  learned 
without  Erasmus.  This  scholar,  who  was  an  enthusiast 
for  the  young  king,  was  not  long  in  answering  to  the 
call.  "When  Richard  Pace,  one  of  the  most  accom- 
plished men  of  that  age,  met  the  learned  Dutchman  at 
Ferrnra,  the  latter  took  from  his  pocket  a  little  box 
which  he  always  carried  with  him  :  "Yon  don't  know," 
he  said,  "what  a  treasure  you  have  in  England:  I 
will  just  shew  you  ;"  and  he  took  from  the  box  a  letter 
of  Henry's,  expressing  in  Latin  of  considerable  purity 
the  teuderest  regard  for  his  correspondent.  Imme- 
diately after  the  coronation  Montjoy  wrote  to  Erasmus: 
"  Our  Henry  Oclanis,  or  rather  Octaviii.^,  is  on  the 
throne.  Come  and  behold  the  new  star.  The  heavens 
smile,  the  earth  leaps  for  joy,  and  all  is  flowing  with 
milk,  nectar,  and  honey.  Avarice  has  fled  away, 
liberality  has  desceuded,  scattering  on  every  side  'with 
gracious  hand  her  bounteous  largesses.  Our  king 
desires  not  gold  or  precious  stones,  but  virtue,  glory, 
and  immortality." 

In  such  glowing  terms  was  the  young  king  described 
by  a  man  who  had  seen  him  closely.  Erasmus  could 
resist  no  longer:  he  bade  the  pope  farewell,  and 
hastened  to  London,  where  he  met  with  a  hearty  wel- 


come from  Henry.  Science  aud  power  embwiced  each 
other  :  England  was  about  to  have  its  Medici ;  and  the 
friends  of  learning  no  longer  doubted  of  the  regeaera- 
tion  of  Britain. 

Julius  II.,  who  had  permitted  Erasmus  to  exchange 
the  white  frock  of  the  monks  for  the  black  dress  of  the 
seculars,  allowed  him  to  depart  without  much  regret. 
This  pontiff  had  little  taste  for  letters,  but  was  fond  of 
war,  hunting,  and  the  pleasures  of  the  table.  The 
English  sent  him  a  dish  to  his  taste  in  exchange  for 
the  scholar.  Some  time  after  Erasmue  had  left,  as  the 
pope  was  one  day  reposing  from  the  fatigues  of  the 
chase,  he  heard  voices  near  him  singing  a  strange  song. 
He  asked  with  surprise  what  it  meant.  "  It  is  some 
Englishmen,"  was  the  answer;  and  three  foreigners 
entered  the  room,  each  bearing  a  closely  covered  jar, 
which  the  youngest  presented  on  his  knees.  This  was 
Thomas  Cromwell,  who  appears  here  for  the  first  time 
on  the  historic  scene.  lie  was  the  son  of  a  blacksmith 
of  Putney;  but  he  possessed  a  mind  so  penetrating,  a 
judgment  so  sound,  a  heart  so  bold,  ability  so  consum- 
mate, such  easy  elocution,  such  an  accurate  memory, 
such  groat  activity,  and  so  able  a  pen,  that  the  most  bril- 
liant career  was  foreboded  him.  At  the  age  of  twenty 
he  left  England,  being  desirous  to  see  the  world,  and  be- 
gan life  as  a  clerk  in  the  English  factory  at  Antwerp. 
Shortly  after  this  two  fellow-countrymen  from  Boston 
came  to  him  in  their  embarrassment.  "  What  do  you 
want?"  he  asked  them. — "  Our  townsmen  have  sent  us 
to  the  pope,"  they  told  him,  "to  get  the  renewal  of  the 
(jreatev  and  lesser  pardons,  whose  term  is  nearly  run, 
aud  which  are  necessary  for  the  repair  of  our  harbour. 
But  we  do  not  know  how  to  appear  before  him."  Crom- 
well, prompt  to  undertake  everything,  and  knowing  a 
little  Italian,  replied :  "I  will  go  with  you."  Then  slap- 
ping his  forehead,  he  muttered  to  himself,  "AVhat  fish 
can  I  throw  out  as  a  bait  to  these  greedy  cormorants?" 
A  friend  informed  him  that  the  pope  was  very  fond  of 
dainties.  Cromwell  immediately  ordered  some  exquisite 
jelly  to  be  prepared,  after  the  English  fashiou,  and  set 
out  for  Italy  with  his  provisions  and  his  two  companions. 

This  was  the  man  who  appeared  before  Julius  after 
his  return  from  the  chase.  "Kings  and  princes  alone 
eat  of  this  preserve  in  England,"  said  Cromwell  to  the 
pope.  One  cardinal,  who  was  a  greedier  "cormorant" 
than  his  master,  eagerly  tasted  the  delicacy.  "Try  it," 
he  exclaimed  ;  and  the  pope,  relishing  this  new  confec- 
tionery, immediately  signed  the  pardons,  ou  condition, 
however,  that  the  receipt  for  the  jelly  should  be  left 
with  him.  "And  thus  were  the  jelh/ pardous  obtained," 
says  the  annalist.  It  was  Cromwell's  first  exploit;  and 
the  man  who  began  his  busy  career  by  presenting  jars 
of  confectionery  to  the  pope,  was  also  the  man  destined 
to  separate  England  from  Rome. 

The  coiu-t  of  the  pontiff  was  not  the  only  one  in 
Europe  devoted  to  gaiety,  Hunting  parties  were  as 
common  in  London  as  at  Rome.  The  young  king  and 
his  companions  were  at  that  time  absorbed  in  balls, 
banquets,  and  the  other  festivities  inseparable  from  a 
new  reign.  He  recollected,  however,  that  he  must 
give  a  queen  to  his  people  :  Catherine  of  Arragon  was 
still  in  England,  and  the  council  recommended  her  for 
his  wife.  He  admired  her  piety  without  caring  to 
imitate  it ;  he  was  pleased  with  her  love  for  literature 


596 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


and  even  felt  some  inclination  towards  her.  His 
advisers  represented  to  him  that  "  Catherine,  daughter 
of  the  iUustrious  Isabella  of  Castile,  was  the  image  of 
her  mother.  Like  her,  she  possessed  that  wisdom  and 
greatness  of  mind  which  win  the  respect  of  nations; 


^}--y6^J" 


Sn     THOMAS     MORES     HOUSE 

and  tint  if  ■~he  earned  to  any  of  his  mala  her  maiiiafic- 
poitiou  and  the  fepanish  alliance,  the  long-contested 
crown  of  England  would  soon  fall  from  his  head.  .  .  . 
We  have  the  pope's  dispensation :  will  you  be  more 
scrupulous  than  he  is  ? "  The  Archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury opposed  in  vain  :  Henry  gave  way,  and  on  the 
eleventh  of  Juno,  about  seven  weeks  after  his  father's 
death,  the  nuptials  were  privately  celebrated.  On  the 
twenty-third,  the  king  and  queen  went  in  state  through 
the  city,  the  bride  wearing  a  white  satin  dress,  with 
her  hair  hanging  down  her  back  nearly  to  her  feet. 
On  the  next  day  they  were  crowned  at  AVestminster 
with  great  magnificence. 


HENRY  VIII., 

(After  Bolbein's  Picture.) 


Then  followed  a  series  of  expensive  entertainments. 

The  treasures  which  the  nobility  had  long  concealed, 

from  fear  of  the  old  king,  were  now  brought  out ;  the 

ladies  glittered  with  gold  and  diamonds  ;  and  the  king 

and  queen,   whom    the    people    never   grew    tired    of 

admiring,  amused  themselves  like  children  with 

the  splendour  of  their  royal  robes.     Henry  VIII. 

was  the  forerunner  of  Louis   XIV.     Naturally 

inclined  to   pomp  and  pleasure,  the  idol  of  his 

peojjk,  a  devoted  admirer  of  female  beauty,  and 

hii'.band  of  almost  as  many  wives  as  Louis 

hid  adulterous  mistresses,  he  made  the  court  of 

Lii„l  ind  uhat  the  son  of  Anne  of  Austria  made 

(he    court    of    France,  —  one    constant   scene   of 

iiuii^cmmts.     He  thought  he  could  never  get  to 

I  lid  of   the   riches  amassed   by  his  prudent 

Ik  1       His  youth — for  he  was  only  eighteen — 

gxict}   of   his   disposition,  the  grace  he  dis- 

■--    pi  1}  cd  in  ill  bodily  exercises,  the  tales  of  chivalry 

in  which  he  delighted,  and  which  even  the  clergy 

lecommeiuled   to   their    high-born   hearers,    the 

Hattciy  of  his  courtiers, — all  these  combined  to 

'.Lt  hi'.  J  oung  imagination  in  a  ferment.     Wher- 

c\ei  he  appealed,  all  were  filled  with  admiration  of 

his  handoome  countenance  and  graceful  figure:    such 

is  the  portrait  bequeathed  to  us  by  his  greatest  enemy. 

"  His   brow  was  made  to  wear  the  crown,  and  his 

majestic  port  the  kingly  mantle,"  adds  Noryson. 

Henry  resolved  to  realize  without  delay  the  chival- 
rous combats  and  fabulous  splendours  of  the  heroes  of 
the  Round  Table,  as  if  to  prepare  himself  for  those 
more  real  struggles  which  he  would  one  day  have  to 
maintain  against  the  papacy.  At  the  sound  of  the 
trmnpet,  the  youthful  monarch  would  enter  the  lists, 
clad  in  costly  armour,  and  wearing  a  plume  that  fell 
gi-acefully  down  to  the  saddle  of  his  vigorous  courser : 
"like  an  untamed  bull,"  says  an  historian,  "which 
breaks  away  from  its  yoke  and  rushes  into  the  arena." 
On  one  occasion,  at  the  celebration  of  the  queen's 
churching,  Catherine  with  her  ladies  were  seated  in  a 
tent  of  purple  and  gold,  in  the  midst  of  an  artificial 
forest,  strewn  with  rocks  and  variegated  with  flowers. 
On  a  sudden  a  monk  stepped  forward,  wearing  a  long 
brown  robe,  and  kneeling  jjefore  her,  begged  permission 
to  run  a  course.  It  was  granted,  and  rising  up,  he 
threw  aside  his  coarse  frock,  and  appeared  gorgeously 
armed  for  the  tourney.  He  was  Charles  Brandon, 
afterwards  Duke  of  Suffolk,  one  of  the  handsomest 
and  strongest  men  in  the  kingdom,  and  the  first  after 
Henry  in  military  exercises.  He  was  followed  by  a 
number  of  others  dressed  in  black  velvet,  with  wide- 
brimmed  hats  on  their  heads,  staffs  in  their  hands,  and 
scarfs  across  their  shoulders  ornamented  with  cockle 
shells,  like  pilgrims  from  St.  James  of  Compostella. 
These  also  threw  off  their  disguise,  and  stood  forth  in 
complete  armour.  At  their  head  was  Sir  Thomas 
Boleyn,  whose  daughter  was  fated  to  surpass  in  beauty, 
greatness,  and  misfortune,  all  the  women  of  England. 
The  tournament  began.  Henry,  who  has  been  com- 
pared to  Amadis  in  boldness,  to  the  lion-hearted 
Richard  in  courage,  and  to  Edward  III.  in  courtesy, 
did  not  always  escape  danger  in  these  chivalrous  con- 
tests.    One  day  the  king  had  forgotten  to  lower  his 


THE  POPE  EXCITES  HENRY  TO  WAR. 


visor,  ami  Jirandon,  liis  opponent,  setting  off  at  full 
gallop,  the  spectators  noticed  the  oversight,  and  cried 
out  in  alarm.  But  nothing  could  stop  their  horses : 
the  two  cavaliers  met.  Suffolk's  lance  was  shivered 
against  Henry,  and  the  fragments  struck  him  in  the 
face.  Every  one  thought  the  king  was  dead,  and  some 
were  running  to  arrest  Brandon,  when  Henry,  recover- 
ing from  the  blow,  which  had  fallen  on  his  helmet, 
recommenced  the  combat,  and  ran  six  new  courses 
amid  the  admiring  cries  of  his  subjects.  This  intrepid 
courage  changed  as  he  grew  older  into  unsparing 
cruelty ;  and  it  was  this  young  tiger  whose  movements 
were  then  so  graceful,  that  at  no  distant  day  lore  with 
his  bloody  fangs  the  mother  of  his  children." 


CHAPTER  XI. 

Tlie  ropo  excites  to  War— Colefs  Sermon  at  St.  Paul's— The  Flemish  Cam- 
I>aign— JIairinge  of  Louis  XII.  and  Princess  Mary— Letter  from  Anne 
Bole™— Marriage  of  Brandon  and  Mary- Oxford— Sir  Thomas  More  at 
Court— Attack  upon  the  Monasteries— Colet's  Household— lie  Preaches 
Hcform— Tlie  Greeks  and  Trojans. 

A  MESSAGE  from  the  pope  stopped  Henry  in  the  midst 
of  these  amusements.  In  Scotland,  Spain,  France,  and 
Italy,  the  young  king  had  nothing  but  friends;  a  har- 
mony which  the  papacy  was  intent  on  disturbing.  One 
day,  immediately  after  high  mass  had  been  celebrated, 
the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  on  behalf  of  Julius  II., 
laid  at  his  feet  a  golden  rose,  which  had  been  blessed 
by  the  pope,  anointed  with  holy  oil,  and  perfumed  with 
musk.  It  was  accompanied  by  a  letter,  saluting  him 
as  head  of  the  Italian  league.  The  warlike  pontiff 
having  reduced  the  Venetians,  desired  to  humble 
France,  and  to  employ  Henry  as  the  instrument  of  his 
vengeance.  Henry,  only  a  short  time  before,  had 
renewed  his  alliance  with  Louis  XII.;  but  the  pope 
was  not  to  be  baffled  by  such  a  trifle  as  that ;  and  the 
young  king  soon  began  to  dream  of  rivalling  the  glories 
of  Crecy,  Poitiers,  and  Agincourt.  To  no  purpose  did 
his  wisest  councillors  represent  to  him  that  England, 
in  the  most  favourable  times,  had  never  been  able  to 
hold  her  ground  in  France,  and  that  the  sea  was  the 
true  field  open  to  her  conquests.  Julius,  knowing  his 
vanity,  had  promised  to  deprive  Louis  of  the  title  of 
Most  Christian  king,  and  confer  it  upon  him.  "  His 
holiness  hopes  that  your  grace  will  utterly  exterminate 
the  king  of  France,"  wrote  the  king's  agent.'  Henry 
saw  nothing  objectionable  in  this  very  unapostolic  mis- 
sion, and  decided  on  substituting  the  terrible  game  of 
war  for  the  gentler  sports  of  peace. 

In  the  spring  of  1511,  after  some  unsuccessful 
attempts  by  his  generals,  Henry  determined  to  invade 
France  in  person.  He  was  in  the  midst  of  his  prepara- 
tions when  the  festival  of  Easter  arrived.  Dean  Colet 
had  been  appointed  to  preach  before  Henry  on  Good 
Friday;  and  in  the  course  of  his  sermon  he  shewed 
more  courage  than  could  have  been  expected  in  a 
scholar,  for  a  spark  of  the  Christian  spirit  was  glowing 
in  his  bosom.    He  chose  for  the  subject  of  his  discourse 

1  Letter  of  Cardinal  Bembridge.    Cotton  MSS.  VUell,  B  ii.,  p.  S. 


Christ's  victory  over  death  and  the  grave.  "  Whoever 
takes  up  arms  from  ambition,"  said  he,  "fights  not 
under  tlie  standard  of  Christ,  but  of  Satan.  If  you 
desire  to  contend  against  your  enemies,  follow  Jesus 
Christ  as  your  prince  and  captain,  rather  than  Cajsar 
or  Alexander."  Ilis  hearers  looked  at  each  other  with 
astonishment;  the  friends  of  polite  literature  became 
alarmed;  and  the  priests,  who  were  getting  uneasy  at 
the  uprising  of  the  human  mind,  hoped  to  profit  by 
this  opportunity  of  iiillicting  a  deadly  blow  on  their 
antagonists.  There  were  among  them  men  whose 
opinions  we  must  condemn,  while  we  cannot  forbear 
respecting  the  zeal  for  what  they  believed  to  be  the 
truth :  of  this  ninnber  were  Bricot,  Fitzjames,  and 
above  all,  Standi.-ih.  Their  zeal,  however,  went  a  little 
too  far  on  tliis  occasion  :  they  even  talked  of  burning 
the  dean.  After  the  .-iriiiinn,  ( Olct  was  informed  that 
the  king  requested  his  alh'iiii.Liicc  in  the  garden  of  the 
Franciscan  monastery;  and  iniuuMliately  the  priests  and 
monks  crowded  round  the  gate,  hoping  to  see  their 
adversary  led  forth  as  a  crimiuid.  "  Let  us  be  alone," 
said  Henry;  "put  on  your  cap,  Mr.  Dean,  and  we  will 
take  a  walk.  Cheer  up,"  ho  continued,  "you  have 
nothing  to  fear.  You  have  spoken  admirably  of 
Christian  charity,  and  have  almost  reconciled  me  to 
the  King  of  Franco;  yet,  as  the  contest  is  not  one  of 
choice,  but  of  necessit}',  I  must  beg  of  you  in  some 
future  sermon  to  explain  this  to  my  people.  Unless 
you  do  so,  I  fear  my  soldiers  may  misunderstand  your 
meaning."  Colet  was  not  a  John  Baptist,  and,  affected 
by  the  king's  condescension,  he  gave  the  required  ex- 
planation. The  king  was  satisfied,  and  exclaimed : 
"Let  every  man  have  his  doctor  as  he  pleases;  this 
man  is  my  doctor,  and  1  will  drink  his  health !" 
Henry  was  then  young :  very  different  was  the  fashion 
with  which,  in  after  years,  he  treated  those  who  opposed 
hiin. 

At  heart  the  king  cared  little  more  about  the 
victories  of  Alexander  than  of  Jesus  Christ.  Having 
fitted  out  his  army,  he  embarked  at  the  end  of  June, 
accompanied  by  his  almoner,  Wolsey,  who  ■v^^as  rising 
into  favour,  and  set  out  for  the  war  as  if  for  a  tourna- 
ment. Shortly  after  this,  he  went,  all  glittering  with 
jewels,  to  meet  the  Emperor  Maximilian,  who  received 
him  in  a  plain  doublet  and  cloak  of  black  serge. 
After  his  victory  at  the  battle  of  Spurs,  Henrj',  instead 
of  pressing  forward  to  the  conquest  of  France,  re- 
turned to  the  siege  of  Terouenne ;  wasted  his  time  in 
jousts  and  entertainments ;  conferred  on  Wolsey  the 
bishopric  of  Tournay,  which  he  had  just  captured; 
and  then  returned  to  England,  delighted  at  having 
made  so  pleasant  an  excursion. 

Louis  XII.  was  a  widower  in  his  fifty-thud  year,  and 
bowed  dowu  by  the  infirmities  of  a  premature  old  age ; 
but  being  desirous  of  preventing,  at  any  cost,  the 
renewal  of  the  war,  he  sought  the  hand  of  Henry's 
sister,  the  Princess  jMary,  then  in  her  sixteenth  year. 
Her  affections  were  already  fixed  on  Charles  Brandon, 
and  for  him  she  would  have  sacrificed  the  splendour 
of  a  throne.  But  reasons  of  state  opposed  their  union. 
"  The  princess,"  remarked  Wolsey,  "  will  soon  return 
to  England  a  widow  with  a  royal  dowry."  This 
decided  the  question.  The  disconsolate  Mary,  who 
was  an  object  of  universal  pity,  embarked  at  Dover 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


with  a  numerous  train;  and  from  Boulogne,  where  she 
was  received  by  the  Duke  of  Angouleme,  she  was 
conducted  to  the  king,  elated  at  tlie  idea  of  marrying 
the  haudaomest  princess  in  Europe. 

Among  Mary's  attendants  was  the  youthful  Anne 
Eoleyn.  Her  father,  Sir  Thomas  Boleyn,  had  been 
charged  by  Henry,  conjointly  with  the  Bishop  of  Ely, 
with  the  diplomatic  negotiations  preliminary  to  this 
marriage.  Anne  had  passed  her  childhood  at  Hever 
Castle,  surrounded  by  all  that  could  heat  the  imagina- 
tion. Her  maternal  grandfather,  the  Earl  of  Surrey, 
whose  eldest  son  had  married  the  sister  of  Henry  the 
Seventh's  queen,  had  filled,  as  did  his  sons  also,  the 
most  important  offices  of  state.  At  the  age  probably 
of  fourteen,  when  summoned  by  her  father  to  court, 
she  wrote  him  tlie  following  letter  in  French,  which 
appears  to  refer  to  her  departure  for  France  : — 

"Sir, — I  find  by  )'our  letter  that  you  wish  me  to 
appear  at  court  ia  a  manner  becoming  a  respectable 
female,  and  likewise  that  the  queen  will  condescend  to 
enter  into  couversation  with  me ;  at  this  I  rejoice,  as 
I  do  to  think,  that  conversing  with  so  sensible  and 
elegant  a  princess  will  make  me  even  more  desirous  of 
continuing  to  speak  and  to  write  good  French ;  the 
more  as  it  is  by  your  earnest  advice,  which  (I  acquaint 
you  by  this  present  writing)  I  shall  follow  to  the  best 

of  my  ability As  to  myself,  rest  assured 

that  I  shall  not  ungratefully  look  upon  this  fatherly 
otlice  as  one  that  might  be  dispensed  with ;  nor  will  it 
tend  to  diminish  my  affection,  quest  [wish],  and  de- 
liberation to  lead  as  holy  a  life  as  you  may  please  to 
desire  of  me ;  indeed  my  love  for  you  is  founded  on 
so  firm  a  basis  that  it  can  never  be  impaired.  I  put 
an  end  to  this  my  lucubration  after  having  very 
humbly  craved  your  good  will  and  affection.  Written 
at  Hever,  by 

"  Your  very  humble  and  obedient  daughter, 

"Anna  de  Boullai^."^ 

Such  were  the  feelings  under  which  this  young  and 
interesting  lady,  so  calumniated  by  papistical  writers, 
appeared  at  court. 

The  marriage  was  celebrated  at  Abbeville,  on  the 
9th  of  October,  1.514;  and  after  a  sumptuous  banquet, 
the  king  of  France  distributed  his  royal  largesses  among 
tlie  English  lords,  who  were  charmed  by  his  courtesy. 
But  the  morrow  was  a  day  of  trial  to  the  young 
queen.  Louis  XII.  had  dismissed  the  numerous  train 
Avhieh  had  accomjianied  her,  and  even  Lady  Guildford, 
to  whom  Henry  had  specially  confided  her.  Three 
only  were  left, — of  whom  the  youthful  Anne  Boleyn 
was  one.  At  this  separation  Mary  gave  way  to  the 
keenest  sorrow.  To  cheer  her  spirits,  Louis  pro- 
claimed a  grand  tournament.  Brandon  hastened  to 
France  at  its  first  announcement,  and  carried  off  all 
the  prizes;  while  the  king,  languidly  reclining  on  a 
couch,  could  with  difficulty  look  upon  the  brilliant 
spectacle  over  which  his  queen  presided,  sick  at  heart, 
yet  radiant  with  youth  and  beauty.     Mary  was  unable 

1  Tlie  French  original  is  presen-ed  aiuoug  ArchbisUop  Parker's  MS3.  at 
Coi-pus  Cliristi  College,  Cambridge.  The  translation  in  the  text  is  (with  a 
sliglit  variation)  from  Sir  H.  Ellis's  CoUection  of  royal  and  other  letters, 
■vol.  iL,  second  series. 


to  conceal  her  emotion,  and  Louisa  of  Savoy,  who  was 
watching  her,  divined  her  secret.  But  Louis,  if  he 
experienced  the  tortures  of  jealousy,  did  not  feel  them 
long,  for  his  death  took  place  on  the  1st  January,  151.5. 

Even  before  her  husband's  funeral  was  over,  Mary's 
heart  beat  high  with  hope.  Francis  I.,  impatient  to 
see  her  wedded  to  some  unimportant  political  person- 
age, encouraged  her  love  for  Brandon.  The  latter, 
who  had  been  commissioned  by  Henry  to  convey  to 
her  his  letters  of  condolence,  feared  his  master's 
auger  if  he  should  dare  aspire  to  the  hand  of  the 
princess.  But  the  widowed  queen,  who  was  resolved 
to  brave  everything,  told  her  lover :  "  Either  you 
marry  me  in  four  days,  or  you  see  me  no  more."  The 
choice  the  king  had  made  of  his  amba.ssador  announced 
that  he  would  not  behave  very  harshly.  The  marriage 
was  celebrated  in  the  abbey  of  Clugny,  and  Henry 
pardoned  them. 

While  Mary  returned  to  England,  as  Wolsey  had 
predicted,  Anne  Boleyn  remained  in  France.  Her 
father,  desiring  his  daughter  to  become  an  accom- 
plished woman,  intrusted  her  to  the  care  of  the 
virtuous  Claude  of  France,  the  good  queen,  at  whose 
court  the  daughters  of  the  first  families  of  the  kingdom 
were  trained.  Margaret,  Duchess  of  Alen^on,  the 
sister  of  Francis,  and  afterwards  Queen  of  Navarre, 
often  charmed  the  queen's  circle  by  her  lively  con- 
versation. She  soon  became  deeply  attached  to  the 
young  Englishwoman,  and  on  the  death  of  Claude, 
took  her  into  her  own  family.  Anne  Boleyn  was 
destined  at  no  very  remote  period  to  be  at  the  court  of 
London  a  reflection  of  the  graceful  Margaret,  and  her 
relations  with  that  princess  were  not  without  influence 
on  the  English  Reformation. 

And  indeed  tlie  literary  movement  which  had 
passed  from  Italy  into  France  appeared  at  that  time 
as  if  it  would  cross  from  France  into  Britain.  Oxford 
exercises  over  England  as  great  an  influence  as  the 
metropolis;  and  it  is  almost  always  within  its  walls 
that  a  movement  commences,  whether  for  good  or 
evil.  At  this  period  of  our  history  an  enthusiastic 
youth  hailed  with  joy  tlie  first  beams  of  the  new  sun, 
and  attacked  with  their  sarcasms  tlie  idleness  of  the 
monks,  the  immorality  of  the  clergy,  and  the  super- 
stition of  the  people.  Disgusted  with  the  priestcraft 
of  the  Middle  Ages,  and  captivated  by  the  writers  of 
antiquity  and  the  purity  of  the  Gospel,  Oxford  boldly 
called  for  a  reform  which  should  burst  the  bonds  of 
clerical  domination,  and  emancipate  the  human  mind. 
Men  of  letters  thought  for  awhile  that  they  had  found 
the  most  [lowerful  man  in  England  in  Wolsey,  the  ally 
that  would  give  them  the  victory. 

He  possessed  little  taste  for  learning;  but  seeing 
the  wind  of  public  favour  blow  in  that  direction,  he 
readily  spread  his  sails  before  it.  He  got  the  reputa- 
tion of  a  profound  divine,  by  quoting  a  few  words  of 
Thomas  Aquinas,  and  the  fame  of  a  Maiceuas  and 
Ptolemy,  by  inviting  the  learned  to  his  gorgeous 
entertainments.  "O  happy  cardinal,"  exclaimed 
Erasmus,  "who  can  surround  his  table  with  such 
torches !" 

At  that  time  the  king  felt  the  same  ambition  as  his 
minister;  and  having  tasted  in  turn  the  pleasures  of 
war  and  diplomacy,  he  now  bent  his  mind  to  literature. 


COLET  PREACHES  THE  REFORMATION. 


599 


lie  desired  'Wol.scy  to  present  Sir  Thomas  More  to 
liim. — "  What  shall  I  do  at  court  ?"  rci)licd  the  hitter. 
"I  shall  be  na  awkward  as  a  man  that  never  rode 
sittcth  in  a  saddle."  Happy  in  his  family  circle, 
wiicre  his  father,  mother,  and  children,  gatherinj; 
round  the  same  table,  formed  a  pleasing  group,  which 
the  pencil  of  Holbein  has  transmitted  to  us,  More  had 
no  desire  to  leave  it.  But  Henry  was  not  a  man  to 
put  lip  with  a  refusal ;  he  employed  force  almost  to 
draw  More  from  his  retirement,  and  in  a  short  time  he 
could  not  live  without  the  society  of  the  man  of  lettei-s. 
On  calm  and  starlight  nights  they  would  walk  together 
upon  the  leads  at  the  top  of  the  palace,  discoursing  on 
the  motions  of  the  heavcidy  bodies.  If  More  did  not 
appear  at  court,  Henry  would  go  to  Chelsea  and  share 
the  frugal  dinner  of  the  family  with  some  of  their 
simple  neighbours.  "  AVhere,"  asked  Erasmus,  "where 
is  the  Athens,  the  Porch,  or  the  Academe,  that  can  be 
compared  with  the  court  of  England  .^     ....     It 

is  a  scat  of  the  muses  rather  than  a  palace 

The  golden  age  is  reviving,  and  I  congratulate  the 
world." 

But  the  friends  of  Classical  learning  were  not  con- 
tent with  the  cardinal's  banquets  or  the  king's  favours. 
They  wanted  victories,  and  their  keenest  darts  were 
aimed  at  the  cloisters,  those  strong  fortresses  of  the 
hierarchy  and  of  uncleanness.  The  Abbot  of  Saint 
Albans  having  taken  a  married  woman  for  his  concu- 
bine, and  placed  her  at  the  head  of  a  nunnery,  his 
monks  had  follovv-ed  his  example,  and  indulged  in  the 
most  scandalous  debauchery.  Public  indignation  was 
so  far  aroused,  that  Wolsey  himself — Wolsey,  the 
father  of  several  illegitimate  children,  and  who  was 
suffering  the  penalty  of  his  irregularities — was  carried 
away  by  the  spirit  of  the  age,  and  demanded  of  the 
po|ic  a  general  reform  of  manners.  "When  they  heard 
of  this  request,  the  priests  and  friars  were  loud  in  their 
outcries.  "What  are  you  about?"  said  they  to 
Wolsey.  "  You  are  giving  the  victory  to  the  enemies 
of  the  Church,  and  your  only  reward  will  be  the  hatred 
of  the  whole  world."  As  this  was  not  the  cardinal's 
game,  he  abandoned  his  project,  and  conceived  one 
more  easily  executed.  Wishing  to  deserve  the  name 
of  '-Ptolemy,"  conferred  on  him  by  Erasmus,  he 
undertook  to  build  two  large  colleges,  one  at  Ipswich, 
his  native  town,  the  other  at  Oxford ;  and  found  it 
convenient  to  take  the  money  necessary  for  their  en- 
dowment, not  from  his  own  purse,  but  from  the  purses 
of  the  monks.  He  pointed  out  to  the  pope  twenty-two 
monasteries,  in  which  (he  said)  vice  and  impiety  had 
taken  up  their  abode.  The  pope  granted  their  secu- 
larization, and  AVolsey  having  thus  procured  a  revenue 
of  £2000  sterling,  laid  the  foundations  of  his  college, 
traced  out  various  courts,  and  constructed  spacious 
kitchens.  He  fell  into  disgrace  before  he  had  com- 
pleted his  work,  which  led  Gualter  to  say  with  a  sneer: 
"  He  began  a  college,  and  built  a  cook's  shop."  But  a 
gi-eat  example  had  been  set :  the  monasteries  had  been 
attacked,  and  the  first  breach  made  in  them  by  a 
cardinal.  Cromwell,  Wolsey's  secretary,  remarked 
how  his  master  had  set  about  his  work,  and  in  after 
years  profited  by  the  lesson. 

It  was  fortunate  for  letters  that  they  had  sincerer 
friends  in  London  than  Wolsey.     Of  these  were  Colet, 


dean  of  St.  Paul's,  whose  house  was  the  centre  of  the 
literary  movement  which  ])receded  the  Reformation, 
and  his  friend  and  guest,  Erasmus.  The  latter  was 
the  hardy  pioneer  who  opened  the  road  of  antiquity  to 
modern  Europe.  One  day  he  would  entertain  Colet's 
guests  with  the  account  of  a  new  manuscript;  on 
another,  with  a  discussion  on  the  forms  of  ancient 
literature ;  and  at  other  times  he  would  attack  the 
schoolmen  and  monks,  when  Colet  would  take  the 
same  side.  The  only  antagonist  who  dared  measure 
his  strength  with  him  was  Sir  Thomas  Jlore,  who, 
although  a  layman,  stoutly  .defended  the  ordinances  of 
the  Church. 

But  mere  table-talk  could  not  satisfy  the  dean:  a 
numerous  audience  attended  his  sermons  at  St.  Paul's. 
The  spirituality  of  Christ's  words,  the  authority  which 
characterizes  them,  their  admirable  simplicity  and 
mysterious  depth,  had  deeply  charmed  him  :  "I  admire 
the  writings  of  the  Apostles,"  he  would  say,  "  but  I 
forget  them  almost  when  I  contemplate  the  wonderful 
majesty  of  Jesus  Christ."  Setting  aside  the  texts 
prescribed  by  the  church,  he  explained,  like  Zwingle, 
the  Gospel  of  St.  Matthew.  Nor  did  he  stop  here. 
Taking  advantage  of  the  Convocation,  he  delivered  a 
sermon  on  conformation  and  reformation,  which  was 
one  of  the  numerous  forerunners  of  the  great  reform 
of  the  sixteenth  century.  "We  see  strange  and 
heretical  ideas  appear  in  our  days,  and  no  wonder," 
said  he.  "  But  you  must  know  there  is  no  heresy 
more  dangerous  to  the  church  than  the  vicious  lives 
of  its  priests.  A  reformation  is  needed ;  and  that 
reformation  must  begin  with  the  bishops,  and  be 
extended  to  the  priests.  The  clergy  once  reformed, 
we  shall  proceed  to  the  reformation  of  the  people." 
Thus  spoke  Colet,  while  the  citizens  of  London  listened 
to  him  with  rapture,  and  called  him  a  new  St.  Paul. 

Such  discourses  could  not  be  allowed  to  pass  un- 
punished. Fitzjames,  bishop  of  London,  was  a  super- 
stitious, obstinate  old  man  of  eighty,  fond  of  money, 
excessively  irritable,  a  poor  theologian,  and  a  slave  to 
Duns  Scotus,  the  suhtle  doctor.  Calling  to  his  aid  two 
other  bishops  as  zealous  as  himself  for  the  preservation 
of  abuses,  namely,  Bricot  and  Standish,  he  denounced 
the  Dean  of  St.  Paul's  to  Warham.  The  archbishop 
having  inquired  v.hat  he  had  done:  "What  has  he 
done  ?"  rejoined  the  Bishop  of  London.  "  He  teaches 
that  we  must  not  worship  images ;  he  translates  the 
Lord's  Prayer  into  English  ;  he'pretends  that  the  text. 
Feed  mi/  sheep,  does  not  include  the  temporal  supplies 
the  clergy  draw  from  their  flock.  And  besides  all 
this,"  hecontinued  with  some  embarrassment,  " he  has 
spoken  against  tliose  who  carry  their  manuscripts  into 
the  pulpit  and  read  their  sermons !"  As  this  was  the 
bishop's  practice,  the  primate  could  not  refrain  from 
smiling;  and  since  Colet  refused  to  justify  himself, 
Warham  did  so  for  him. 

From  that  time  Colet  laboured  with  fresh  zeal  to 
scatter  the  darkness.  He  devoted  the  larger  portion 
of  his  fortune  to  found  the  celebrated  school  of  St. 
Paul,  of  which  the  learned  Lilly  was  the  first  master. 
Two  parties,  the  Greeks  and  the  Trojans,  entered  the 
lists,  not  to  contend  with  sword  and  spear,  as  in  the 
ancient  epic,  but  with  the  tongue,  the  pen,  and  some- 
times the  fist.    If  the  Trojans  (the  obscurants)  were 


600 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION". 


defeated  in  the  public  disputatious,  they  had  their 
revenge  in  the  secret  of  the  confessional.  Cave  a 
Gnccis  ne  Jias  hereticus,^  was  the  watchword  of  the 
priests — their  daily  lesson  to  the  youths  vmder  their 
care.  They  looked  on  the  school  founded  by  Colet 
as  the  monstrous  horse  of  the  perjured  Sinon,  and 
announced,  that  from  its  bosom  would  inevitably  issue 
tlie  destruction  of  the  people.  Colet  and  Erasmus 
replied  to  the  monks  by  iuflictiug  fresh  blows. 
Linacre,  a  thorough  literary  enthusiast,  —  Grocyu, 
a  man  of  sarcastic  humour,  but  generous  heart, — 
and  many  others,  reinforced  the  Grecian  phalanx. 
Henry  himself  used  to  take  one  of  them  with  him 
duriug  his  journeys,  and  if  any  unlucky  Trojan  ven- 
tured, in  his  presence,  to  attack  the  tongue  of  Plato 
and  of  St.  Paul,  the  young  king  would  set  his  Helleuian 
on  him.  Not  more  numerous  were  the  contests  wit- 
nessed, in  times  of  yore,  on  the  Classic  banks  of 
Xanthus  and  Simois. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Isey— His  First  Commission— His  Couiplaisani 
Chancellor,  and  Lej^ate— Ostentation  and  Ne 
Enmity— Pretensions  of  the  Clergy. 


;  and  Dioceses— Cardinal, 
ronianc}'— His  Spies  and 


Just  as  everything  seemed  tending  to  a  reformation,  a 
powerful  priest  rendered  the  way  more  difficult. 

One  of  the  most  striking  personages  of  the  age  was 
then  making  his  appearance  on  the  stage  of  the  world. 


It  was  the  destiny  of  that  man,  in  the  reign  of  Henry 
VIII.,  to  combine  extreme  ability  with  extreme  immo- 
rality: and  to  be  a  new  and  striking  example  of  the 

1  Beware  of  the  Greeks,  lest  you  sIiouUl  become  a  heretic. 


wholesome  truth,  that  immorality  is  more  effectual  to 
destroy  a  man  than  ability  to  save  him.  Wolsey  was 
the  last  high-priest  of  Rome  in  England;  and  when  his 
fall  startled  the  nation,  it  was  the  signal  of  a  still  more 
striking  fall — the  fall  of  Popery. 

Thomas  AVolsey,  the  son  of  a  wealthy  butcher  of 
Ipswich,  according  to  the  common  story,  which  is 
sanctioned  by  high  authority,  had  attained  under 
Henry  VII.  the  post  of  almoner,  at  the  recommendation 
of  Sir  Richard  Naufan,  treasurer  of  Calais,  and  an  old 
patron  of  his.  But  "Wolsey  was  not  at  all  desirous  of 
passing  his  life  in  saying  mass.  As  soon  as  he  had 
discharged  the  regular  duties  of  his  office,  instead  of 
spending  the  rest  of  the  day  in  idleness,  as  his  col- 
leagues did,  he  strove  to  win  the  good  graces  of  the 
persons  round  the  king. 

Fox,  bishop  of  Winchester,  keeper  of  the  privy-seal 
under  Henry  VII.,  uneasy  at  the  growing  power  of  the 
Earl  of  Surrey,  looked  about  for  a  man  to  counter- 
balance them.  He  thought  he  had  found  such  an  one 
iu  Wolsey.  It  was  to  oppose  the  Surreys,  the  grand- 
father and  uncles  of  Anne  Boleyn,  that  the  son  of  the 
Ipswich  butcher  was  drawn  from  his  obscurity.  This 
is  not  an  unimportant  circumstance  in  our  narrative. 
Fox  began  to  praise  Wolsey  in  the  king's  hearing, 
and,  at  the  same  time,  he  encouraged  the  almoner  to 
give  himself  to  public  affairs.  The  latter  was  not 
deaf,  and  soon  found  an  opportunity  of  winning  his 
sovereign's  favour. 

The  kiug  having  business  of  importance  with  the 
cinperor,  who  was  then  in  Flanders,  sent  for  Wolsey, 
explained  his  wishes,  and  ordered  him  to  prepare  to 
set  out.  The  chaplain  determined  to  shew  Henry 
VII.  how  capable  he  was  of  serving  him.  It  was 
long  past  noon  when  he  took  leave  of  the  king  at 
Richmond — at  four  o'clock  he  was  in  London,  at  seven 
at  Gravescnd.  By  travelling  all  night  he  reached 
Dover  just  as  the  packet-boat  was  about  to  sail. 
After  a  passage  of  three  hours  he  reached  Calais, 
whence  he  travelled  post,  and  the  same  evening 
appeared  before  Maximilian.  Haviug  obtained  what 
he  desired,  he  set  off  again  by  night,  and  on  the  next 
day  but  one  reached  Richmond,  three  days  and  some 
few  hours  after  his  departure.  The  king,  catching 
sight  of  him  just  as  he  was  going  to  mass,  sharply 
inquired  why  he  had  not  set  out.  "  Sire,  I  am  just 
returned,"  answered  Wolsey,  placing  the  emperor's 
letters  in  his  master's  hands.  Henry  was  delighted, 
and  Wolsey  saw  that  his  fortune  was  made. 

The  courtiers  hoped  at  first  that  Wolsey,  like  an 
inexperienced  pilot,  would  run  his  vessel  on  some 
hidden  rock ;  but  never  did  helmsman  manage  his  ship 
with  more  skill.  Although  twenty  years  older  than 
Henry  VIII.,  the  almoner  danced,  and  sang,  and 
laughed  with  the  prince's  companions,  and  amused 
his  new  master  with  tales  of  scaudal  and  quotations 
from  Thomas  Aquinas.  The  young  king  found  his 
house  a  temple  of  paganism,  a  shrine  of  voluptuous- 
ness ;  and  while  Henry's  councillors  were  entreating 
liim  to  leave  his  pleasures  and  attend  to  business, 
Wolsey  was  continually  reminding  liim  that  he  ought 
to  devote  his  youth  to  learning  and  amusement,  and 
leave  the  toils  of  government  to  others.  Wolsey  was 
created  Bishop  of  Tournay  during  the  campaign  in 


WOLSEY'S  OSTENTATION  AND  NECROMANCY. 


Flanders,  and  on  his  return  to  England,  was  raised  to 
the  sees  of  Lincoln  and  of  York.  Three  mitres  had 
been  placed  on  his  head  in  one  year.  He  found  at 
last  the  vein  he  so  ardently  sought  for. 

And  yet  he  was  not  satisfied.  The  Archbishop  of 
Canterbury  had  insisted,  as  primate,  that  the  cross  of 
York  should  be  lowered  to  his.  Wolscy  was  not  of  a 
lispositiou  to  concede  this;  and  when  he  found  that 
Warham  was  not  content  with  being  his  equal,  he 
resolved  to  make  him  his  inferior.  He  wrote  to  I'.ins 
and  to  Rome.  Francis  I.,  who  desired  to  conciliato 
England,  demanded  the  purple  for  Wolsey;  and  the 
Archbishop  of  Y'ork  received  the  title  of  Cardinal  St 
Cecilia  beyond  the  Tiber.  In  November,  IT)  15,  his 
hat  was  brought  by  the  envoy  of  the  pope.  "  It  would 
have  been  better  to  have  given  him  a  Tyburn  tippet," 
said  some  indignant  Englishman;  "these  Romish  hats 
never  brought  good  into  England," — a  saying  that  h  is 
become  proverbial. 

This  was  not  enough  for  "Wolsey:  he  desired  setul  ii 
greatness  above  all  things.  Warham,  tired  of  contend- 
ing with  so  arrogant  a  rival,  resigned  the  seals,  and  the 
king  immediately  transferred  tliem  to  the  caiduial. 
At  length  a  bull  appointed  him  legate  a  latere  of  the 
holy  see;  and  placed  nuder  his  jurisdiction  all  the 
colleges,  monasteries,  spiritual  courts,  bishops,  and  the 
primate  himself,  (1510.)  From  that  time,  as  lord- 
chancellor  of  England  and  legate,  Wolsoy  administered 
everything  in  Church  and  State.  He  filled  his  coffers 
with  money  procured  both  at  homo  and  from  abroad, 
and  yielded  witiiout  restraint  to  his  dominant  vices, 
oslcnlatiou  and  pride.  Whenever  he  appeared  in 
public,  two  priests,  the  tallest  and  comelicst  that  could 
be  fonnd,  carried  before  him  two  huge  silver  crosses, 
one  to  mark  his  dignity  as  archbishop,  the  other  as 
papal  legate.  Chamberlains,  gentlemen,  pages,  ser- 
geants, chaplains,  choristers,  clerks,  cupbearers,  cooks, 
and  other  domestics,  to  the  number  of  more  than  oOO, 
among  whom  were  nine  or  ten  lords  and  the  stateliest 
yeomen  of  the  country,  filled  his  palace.  lie  generally 
wore  a  dress  of  scarlet  velvet  and  silk,  with  hat  and 
gloves  of  the  same  colour.  His  shoes  were  embroidered 
with  gold  and  silver,  inlaid  with  pearls  and  precious 
stones.  A  kind  of  papacy  was  thus  forming  in  Eng- 
land ;  for  wherever  pride  flourishes,  there  Popery  is 
developed. 

One  thing  occupied  Wolsey  more  than  all  the  ])omp 
with  which  he  was  surrounded :  his  desire,  namely,  to 
captivate  the  king.  For  this  purpose  ho  cast  Henry's 
nativity,  and  procured  an  amulet,  which  he  wore  con- 
stantly, in  order  to  charm  his  master  by  its  magic 
properties.  Then,  having  recourse  to  a  still  more 
effectual  necromancy,  he  selected  from  among  the 
licentious  companions  of  the  young  monarch  those  of 
the  keenest  discernment  and  most  ambitious  character; 
and  after  binding  them  to  him  by  a  solemn  oath,  he 
placed  them  at  court  to  be  as  eyes  and  ears  to  him. 
Accordingly,  not  a  word  was  said  in  the  presence  of  the 
monarch,  particularly  against  Wolsey,  of  which  he  was 
not  informed  an  hour  afterwards.  If  the  culprit  was 
not  in  favour,  he  was  expelled  without  mercy;  in  the 
contrary  case,  the  minister  seat  him  on  some  distant 
mission.  The  queen's  ladies,  the  king's  chaplains, 
and  even  their  confessors,  were   the  cardinal's  spies. 


He  pretended  to  omnipresence,  as  the  pope  to  infal- 
libility. 

Wolsey  was  not  devoid  of  certain  showy  virtues,  for 
he  was  liberal  to  the  poor,  even  to  affectation ;  and, 
as  chancellor,  inexorable  to  every  kind  of  irregularity, 


and  strove  particularly  to  make  the  rich  and  high-born 
bend  beneath  his  power.  Men  of  learning  alone 
obtained  from  him  some  little  attention,  and  hence 
Erasmus  calls  him  "the  Achates  of  a  new  jEneas." 
But  the  nation  was  not  to  be  carried  away  by  the 
eulogies  of  a  few  scholars.  Wolsey — a  man  of  more 
than  suspected  morals,  double-hearted,  faithless  to  his 
promises,  oppressing  the  people  with  heavy  taxes,  and 
exceedingly  arrogant  to  everybody — Wolsey  soon  be- 
came hated  by  the  people  of  England. 

The  elevation  of  a  prince  of  the  Roman  Church 
could  not  be  favourable  to  the  Reformation.  The 
priests,  encouraged  by  it,  determined  to  make  a  stand 
against  the  triple  attack  of  the  learned,  the  reformers, 
and  the  state;  and  they  soon  had  an  opportunity  of 
trying  their  strength.  Holy  orders  had  become,  during 
the  Middle  Ages,  a  warrant  for  every  sort  of  crime. 
Parliament,  desirous  of  correcting  this  abuse,  and 
checking  the  encroachments  of  the  church,  declared  in 
the  year  1513,  that  any  ecclesiastic,  accused  of  theft  or 
murder,  should  be  fried  before  the  secular  tribunals. 
Exceptions,  however,  were  made  in  favour  of  bishops, 
priests,  and  deacons — that  is  to  say,  nearly  all  the 
clergy.  Notwithstanding  this  timid  precaution,  an 
insolent  clerk,  the  Abbot  of  Winchelcomb,  began  the 
battle  by  exclaiming,  at  St.  Paul's,  '•'■Touch  not  mine 
anointed,  said  the  Lord."  At  the  same  time  Wolsey, 
accompanied  by  a  long  train  of  priests  and  prelates, 
had  an  audience  of  the  king,  at  which  he  said,  with 
hands  upraised  to  heaven :  '•  Sire,  to  try  a  clerk  is  a 
violation  of  God's  laws."  This  time,  however,  Henry 
did  not  give  way.  "  By  God's  will,  we  are  king  of 
England,"  he  replied,  "and  the  kings  of  England  in 
times  past  had  never  any  superior  but  God  only. 
Therefore  know  you  well  that  wo  will  maintain  the 
right  of  our  crown."  He  saw  distinctly  that  to  put 
the  clergy  above  the  laws  was  to  put  them  above  the 
throne.  The  priests  were  beaten,  but  not  disheartened: 
perseverance    is    a    characteristic    feature    of    every 


602 


HISTORY  OP  THE. REFORMATION. 


hierarchical  order.  Not  walking  by  faith,  they  walk 
all  the  more  by  sight ;  and  skilful  combinations  supply 
the  place  of  the  holy  aspirations  of  the  Christian. 
Humble  disciples  of  the  Gospel  were  soon  to  ex- 
]ierience  this ;  for  tlic  clergy,  by  a  few  isolated  attacks, 
were  about  to  flesh  themselves  for  the  great  struggles 
of  the  Reformation. 


CHAPTER  Xin. 

Tlie  Wolves— Richard  Hun— A  Munler— Verdict  of  tlie  Jury— Hun  Con- 
tlenincfl,  and  his  character  vindicated — Tlie  Gravesend  Passage-boat— 
A  Festival  disturbed— Brown  Tortured— Visit  from  his  Wife— A  Wartjr 
—Character  of  Erasmus— 1510  and  1517— Erasmus  goes  to  Bale. 

It  is  occasionally  necessary  to  soften  down  the 
somewhat  exaggerated  colours  in  whicli  contemporary 
writers  describe  the  Romish  clergy;  but  there  are 
certain  appellations  which  history  is  bound  to  accept. 
The  u'oh-es,  for  so  the  priests  were  called,  by  attacking 
the  Lords  and  Commons,  had  attempted  a  work 
beyond  their  reach.  Tlioy  turned  their  wrath  on 
others.  There  were  many  shepherds  endeavouring  to 
gatlier  together  the  sheep  of  the  Lord  beside  the  peace- 
ful waters;  these  must  be  frightened,  and  the  sliccp 
driven  into  the  howling  wiUloruess.  "The  wolves" 
determined  to  fall  upon  the  Lollards. 

There  lived  in  London  an  honest  tradesman,  named 
Richard  Hun,  one  of  those  witnesses  of  the  truth  who, 
sincere  though  unenlightened,  have  often  been  found 
in  tlie  bosom  of  Catholicism.  It  was  his  practice  to 
retire  to  his  closet  and  spend  a  portion  of  each  day  in 
the  study  of  the  Bible.  At  the  death  of  one  of  his 
chiklren,  the  priest  required  of  him  an  exorbitant  fee, 
v/iiich  Hun  refused  to  pay,  and  for  which  he  was 
summoned  before  the  legate's  court.  Animated  by 
that  public  S[iirit  which  characterizes  the  people  of 
England,  he  felt  indignant  that  an  Englishman  should 
be  cited  before  a  foreign  tribunal,  and  laid  an  informa- 
tion against  the  priest  and  his  counsel  under  the  act 
of  pvcmiunirc.  Such  boldness — most  extraordinary  at 
that  time — exasperated  the  clergy  beyond  all  bounds. 
"  If  these  proud  citizens  are  allowed  to  have  their 
way,"  exclaimed  the  monks,  "  every  layman  will  dare 
to  resist  a  priest." 

Exertions  were  accordingly  made  to  snare  the  pre- 
tended rebel  in  the  trap  of  heresy.  He  was  thrown 
into  the  Lollards'  tower  at  St.  Paul's,  aud  an  iron 
collar  was  fastened  round  his  neck,  attached  to  which 
was  a  chain  so  heavy  that  neither  man  nor  beast  (says 
Foxe)  would  have  been  able  to  bear  it  long.  When 
taken  before  his  judges,  they  could  not  convict  him  of 
heresy,  and  it  was  observed  with  astonishment  "  that 
he  had  his  beads  in  prison  with  him."  They  would 
have  set  him  at  liberty,  after  inflicting  on  him  perhaps 
some  trifling  penance, — but  then,  what  a  bad  example 
it  would  be,  and  who  could  sto|)  the  reformers,  if  it 
was  so  easy  to  resist  the  papacy?  Unable  to  triumph 
by  justice,  certain  fanatics  resolved  to  triumph  by  crime. 

At  midnight  on  the  2d  December — the  day  of  his 
examination — three  men  stealthily  ascended  the  stairs 


of  the  Lollards'  tower.  The  bellriuger  went  first, 
carrying  a  torch  ;  a  sergeant  named  Charles  Joseph 
followed,  and  last  came  the  bishop's  chancellor. 
Having  entered  the  cell,  they  went  up  to  the  bed  on 
which  Hun  was  lying,  and  finding  that  he  was  asleep, 
the  chancellor  said :  "  Lay  hands  on  the  thief." 
Charles  Joseph  and  the  bellriuger  fell  upon  the 
prisoner,  who,  awaking  with  a  start,  saw  at  a  glance 
what  this  midnight  visit  meant.  He  resisted  the 
assassins  at  first,  but  was  soon  overpowered  aud 
strangled.  Ciiarles  Joseph  then  fixed  the  dead  man's 
belt  round  his  neck,  the  bellriuger  helped  to  raise  his 
lifeless  body,  and  the  chancellor  slipped  the  other  end 
of  the  belt  through  a  ring  fixed  in  the  wall.  They 
then  placed  his  cap  on  his  head,  and  hastily  quitted 
the  cell.  Immediately  after,  the  consciriicr-itrirken 
Charles  Joseph  got  on  horseback  and  r.nl.'  [rnm  ihc 
city;  the  bellriuger  left  the  cathedral  and  hid  liim-rlt' : 
the  crime  dispersed  the  criminals.  The  cliaucelior 
alone  kept  his  ground;  and  he  was  at  prayers  when 
the  news  was  brought  him  that  the  turnkey  had  found 
Hun  hanging.  "He  must  have  killed  himself  in 
despair,"  said  the  hypocrite.  But  every  one  knew 
poor  Hun's  Christian  feelings.  "It  is  the  priests  who 
liave  murdered  him,"  was  the  general  cry  in  Loudon, 
and  an  inquest  was  ordered  to  be  held  on  his  body. 

On  Tuesday,  the  .5th  of  December,  William  Barn- 
well, the  city  coroner,  the  two  sheriffs,  and  twenty- 
four  jurymen,  proceeded  to  the  Lollards'  tower.  They 
remarked  that  the  belt  was  so  short  that  the  head 
could  not  be  got  out  of  it,  and  that  consequently  it 
had  never  been  placed  in  it  voluntarily;  and  hence 
the  jury  concluded  that  the  suspension  was  an  after- 
thought of  some  other  persons.  Moreover,  they  found 
that  the  ring  was  too  high  for  the  poor  victim  to  reach 
it;  that  the  body  bore  marks  of  violence;  and  that 
traces  of  blood  were  to  be  seen  in  the  cell :  "  AVhere- 
fore  all  we  find  by  God  and  all  our  consciences,  (runs 
the  verdict,)  that  Richard  Hun  was  murdered.  Also, 
we  acquit  the  said  Richard  Hun  of  his  own  death." 

It  was  but  too  true,  and  the  criminals  themselves 
confessed  it.  The  miserable  Charles  Joseph  having  j 
returned  home  on  the  evening  of  the  6th  Decemljer, 
said  to  his  maid-servant:  "If  you  will  swear  to  keep 
my  secret,  I  will  tell  you  all." — "  Yes,  master,"  she 
replied,  "if  it  is  neither  felony  nor  treason."  Joseph 
took  a  book,  swore  the  girl  on  it,  and  then  said  to  her : 
"I  have  killed  Richard  Hun!" — "O  master!  how? — 
he  was  called  a  worthy  man."  "I  would  lever  [rather] 
than  a  hundred  pounds  it  were  not  done,"  he  made 
answer  ;  "  but  what  is  done  cannot  be  undone."  He 
then  rushed  out  of  the  house. 

The  clergy  foresaw  what  a  serious  blow  this  un- 
hajipy  affair  would  be  to  them  ;  and  to  justify  them- 
selves, they  examined  Hun's  Bible,  (it  was  WickiiflVs 
version ;)  and  having  read  in  the  preface  that  "  poor 
men  and  idiots  [simple  folks]  have  the  truth  of  the 
holy  Scriptures  more  than  a  thousand  prelates  aud 
religious  men  and  clerks  of  the  school,"  aud  further, 
that  "  the  pope  ought  to  be  called  Antichrist,"  the 
Bishop  of  Loudon,  assisted  by  the  bishops  of  Durham 
and  Lincoln,  declared  Hun  guilty  of  heresy;  and,  on 
the  20th  December,  his  dead  body  was  burnt  at 
Smithfield.     "Hun's   bones   have   been   burned,   and 


JOHN  BROWN  AND  THE  PRIEST. 


603 


tlicrcforo  lie  was  a  heretic,"  said  the  priests;  "ho  was 
a  liorutic,  and  therefore  he  committed  suicide." 

Tiie  triumph  of  the  cleriry  was  of  short  duration  ; 
for  ahnost  at  the  same  time  'William  Horsey,  the 
bishop's  chancellor,  Charles  Joseph,  and  John  8pnld- 
injr,  the  bcllringer,  were  convicted  of  the  murder. 
A  bill  passed  the  Commons,  restoring  Ilmi's  properly 
to  his  family,  and  vindicating  his  chanieter.  The 
Lords  accepted  tlie  bill;  and  the  king  himself  said  to 
the  priests  :  '•  Restore  to  these  wretched  children  the 
property  of  their  father  whom  you  so  cruelly  murdered, 
to  our  great  and  just  horror."  "If  the  clerical  theo- 
cracy should  gain  the  mastery  of  the  state,"  was  the 
general  remark  in  London,  "  it  would  not  only  be  a 
very  great  lie,  but  the  most  frightful  tyranny!" 
England  has  never  gone  back  since  that  time ;  and  a 
theocratic  rule  has  always  inspired  the  sound  portion  of 
the  nation  with  a  just  and  insurmountable  anti|):ithy. 
Such  were  (he  events  taking  place  in  England  shortly 
before  the  Reformation.     This  was  not  all. 

The  clergy  had  not  been  fortunate  in  IIuu's  affair; 
but  they  were  not  for  that  reason  unwilling  to  attempt 
a  new  one. 

In  the  spring  of  1517 — the  year  in  which  Luther 
posted  up  his  t/ieses — a  priest,  whose  manners  announced 
a  man  swollen  with  pride,  happened  to  be  on  board  the 
passage-boat  from  London  to  Gravesend  with  an  intel- 
ligent and  pious  Christian  of  Ashford,  by  name  John 
Brown.  The  passengers,  as  they  floated  down  the 
stream,  were  amusing  themselves  by  watching  the 
banks  glide  away  from  them,  when  the  priest,  turning 
towards  Brown,  said  to  him  insolently:  "  You  are  too 
near  me,  get  farther  off.  Do  you  know  who  I  am i" 
— '"No,  sir,"  answered  Brown.  "Well,  then,  you 
must  know  that  I  am  a  priest." — "Indeed,  sir;  are 
you  a  parson,  or  vicar,  or  a  lady's  chaplain .' " — "  No ;  I 
am  a  soul-priest,"  he  haughtily  replied ;  "  I  sing  mass 
to  save  souls."  "  Do  you,  sir?"  rejoined  Brown  some- 
what ironically;  "that  is  well  done;  and  can  you  tell 
mc  where  you  find  the  soul  when  you  begin  the  mass?" 
— "I  cannot,"  said  the  priest.  "And  where  you  leave 
it  when  the  mass  is  ended?"  —  "I  do  not  know." 
"What!"  continued  Brown,  with  marks  of  astonish- 
ment, "you  do  not  know  where  you  find  the  soul  or 
where  you  leave  it,  .  .  .  and  yet  you  say  that  yon 
save  it ! " — "  Go  thy  ways,"  said  the  priest  angrily, 
"thou  art  a  heretic,  and  I  will  be  even  with  thee." 
Thenceforward  the  priest  and  his  neighbour  conversed 
no  more  together.  At  last-  they  reached  Gravesend, 
and  the  boat  anchored. 

As  soon  as  the  priest  had  landed,  he  hastened  to  two 

j     of  his  friends,  "Walter  and  William  More;  and  all  three 

I     mounting   their    horses,   set   off   for   Canterbury,   and 

j     denounced  Brown  to  the  archbishop. 

I         In  the  meantime  John   Brown  had  reached  home. 

I  Three  days  later,  his  wife,  Elizabeth,  who  had  just 
left  her  chamber,  went  to  church,  dressed  all  in  white, 
to  return  thanks  to  God  for  delivering  her  in  the  perils 

I  of  childbirth.  Ilcr  husband,  assisted  by  her  daughter 
Alice  and  the  maid-servant,  were  preparing  for  their 
friends  the  feast  usual  on  such  occasions ;  and  they 
had  all  of  them  taken  their  scats  at  table,  joy  beaming 
on  every  face,  when  the  street-door  was  abruptly 
opened,  and  Chilton,  the  constable,  a  cruel  and  savage 


man,  accompanied  by  several  of  the  archbishop's 
apparitors,  seized  npon  the  worthy  townsman.  All 
sprang  from  their  seats  in  alai-m;  Elizabeth  and  Alice 
uttered  the  most  heart-rending  cries;  but  the  primate's 
oflicers,  without  shewing  any  emotion,  pulled  Brown 
out  of  the  house,  and  placed  him  on  horseback,  tying 
his  feet  nndcr  the  animal's  belly.  It  is  a  serious 
matter  to  jest  with  a  priest.  The  cavalcade  rode  off 
quickly,  and  Brown  was  thrown  into  prison,  and  there 
left  forty  days. 

At  the  end  of  this  time  the  Archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury and  the  Bishop  of  Rochester  called  before  them 
the  impudent  fellow  who  doubted  whether  a  priest's 
mass  could  save  souls,  and  required  him  to  retract  this 
"blasphemy."  But  Brown,  if  he  did  not  believe  in 
the  mass,  believed  in  the  Gospel:  "Christ  was  once 
offered,"  he  said,  "  to  fake  away  the  sins  of  many.  It 
is  by  this  sacrifice  we  are  saved,  and  not  by  the 
repetitions  of  the  priests."  At  this  reply  the  arch- 
bishop made  a  sign  to  the  executioners,  one  of  whom 
took  off  the  shoes  and  stockings  of  this  pious  Christian, 
while  tl'.e  other  brought  in  a  pan  of  burning  coals, 
npon  which  they  set  the  martyr's  feet.  The  English 
laws,  in  tr\ith,  forbade  torture  to  be  inflicted  on  any 
subject  of  the  crown,  but  the  clergy  thought  themselves 
above  the  laws.  "  Confess  the  etiicacity  of  the  mass," 
cried  the  two  bishops  to  poor  Brown.  "  If  I  deny  my 
Lord  iqjon  earth,"  he  replied,  "  He  will  deny  me  before 
His  Father  in  heaven."  The  flesh  was  burnt  off  the 
soles  of  the  feet  even  to  the  bones,  and  still  John 
Brown  remained  unshaken.  The  bishops  tl'.erefore 
ordered  him  to  be  given  over  to  the  secular  arm,  that 
he  might  be  burnt  alive. 

On  the  Saturday  preceding  the  festival  of  Pentecost, 
in  the  year  1517,  the  martyr  was  led  back  to  Ashford, 
where  he  ariived  just  as  the  day  was  drawing  to  a 
close.  A  number  of  idle  persons  were  collected  in  the 
street,  and  among  them  was  Brown's  maid-servant, 
who  ran  off  crying  to  the  house,  and  told  her  mistress: 
"  I  have  seen  him  !  .  .  ,  He  was  bound,  and  they 
were  taking  him  to  prison."  Elizabeth  hastened  to 
her  husband,  and  found  him  sitting  with  his  feet  in 
the  stocks,  his  features  changed  by  suffering,  and  ex- 
pecting to  be  burnt  alive  on  the  morrow.  The  poor 
woman  sat  down  beside  him,  weeping  most  bitterly; 
while  he,  being  hindered  by  his  chains,  could  not  so 
much  as  bend  towards  her.  "  I  cannot  set  my  feet  to 
the  ground,"  said  he,  "for  bishops  have  bin-ut  them  to 
the  bones;  but  they  could  not  burn  my  tongue  and 
prevent  my  confessing  the  Lord.    .     .    .    O  Elizabeth! 

.  .  .  continue  to  love  Him,  for  He  is  good;  and 
bring  up  our  children  in  His  fear." 

On  the  following  morning — it  was  Whitsunday — 
the  brutal  Chilton  and  his  assistants  led  Brown  to 
the  place  of  execution,  and  fastened  him  to  the  stake. 
Elizabeth  and  Alice,  with  his  other  children  and  bis 
friends,  desirous  of  receiving  his  last  sigh,  surrounded 
the  pile,  uttering  cries  of  anguish.  The  fagots  were 
set  on  fire,  while  Brown,  calm  and  collected,  and  full 
of  confidence  in  the  blood  of  the  Saviour,  clasped  his 
hands,  and  repeated  this  hymn,  which  Foxe  has 
preserved : — 

0  Lord,  I  yicM  mc  to  tliy  sracc, 
Grant  mc  mercy  for  my  ttesrass; 


HISTORY  OP  THE  REFORMATION. 


Let  never  the  fiend  my  soul  chase. 
Lord,  I  will  bow,  and  thou  shalt  beat. 
Let  never  my  soul  come  in  hell-heat. 

The  martyr  was  silent ;  the  flames  had  consumed 
their  victim.  Then  redoubled  cries  of  anguish  rent  the 
air.  His  wife  and  daughter  seemed  as  if  they  would 
lose  their  senses.  The  bystanders  showed  thorn  the 
tinderobt  conipa=sion,  and  turned  T\ith  a  mo\enunt  ot 


indignation  towards  the  executioners.  The  brutal 
Chilton  perceiving  this,  cried  out:  "Come  along;  let 
us  toss  the  heretic's  children  into  the  flames,  lest  they 
should  one  day  spring  from  their  father's  ashes."  He 
rushed  towards  Alice,  and  was  about  to  lay  hold  of 
her,  when  the  maiden  shrank  back  screaming  with 
horror.  To  the  end  of  her  life  she  recollected  the 
feiilul  moment,   and  to  hi  i    ia  t    lie  m 


particulars.  The  fury  of  the  monster  was  checked. 
Such  were  the  scenes  passing  in  England  shortly 
before  the  Reformation. 

The  priests  were  not  yet  satisfied,  for  the  scholars  still 
remained  in  England :  if  they  could  not  be  burnt,  they 
should  at  least  bo  banished.  They  set  to  work  accord- 
ingly. Staudish,  bishop  of  St.  Asaph,  a  sincere  man, 
as  it  would  seem,  but  fanatical,  was  inveterate  in  his 
hatred  of  Erasmus,  who  had  irritated  him  by  an  idle 
sarcasm.  When  speaking  of  St.  Asaph's,  it  was  very 
common  to  abbreviate  it  into  St.  As's;  and  as  Standish 
was  a  theologian  of  no  great  learning,  Erasmus,  in  his 
jesting  way,  would  sometimes  call  him  Episcopus  a 
Sancto  Asino.  As  the  bishop  could  not  destroy  Colet, 
the  disciple,  he  flattered  himself  that  he  shoidd  triumph 
over  the  master. 

Erasmus  knew  Standish's  intentions.  Should  he 
commence  in  England  that  struggle  with  the  papacy 
which  Luther  was  about  to  begin  in  Germany?  It 
was  no  longer  possible  to  steer  a  middle  course:   he 


must  either  tight  or  leave.  The  Dulchman  was  faith- 
ful to  his  nature — we  may  even  say,  to  his  vocation  : 
he  left  the  country. 

Erasmus  was,  in  his  time,  the  head  of  the  great 
literary  community.  By  means  of  his  connections  and 
his  correspondence,  which  extended  over  all  Europe, 
he  established  between  those  countries  where  learning 
was  reviving,  an  interchange  of  ideas  and  manuscripts. 
The  pioneer  of  antiquity,  an  eminent  critic,  a  witty 
satirist,  the  advocate  of  correct  taste,  and  a  restorer  of 
literature;  one  only  glory  was  wanting :  he  had  not  the 
creative  spirit,  the  heroic  soul  of  a  Luther.  He  cal- 
culated with  no  little  skill,  could  detect  the  smile  on 
the  lips  or  the  knitting  of  the  brows ;  but  he  had  not 
that  self-abandonment,  that  enthusiasm  for  the  truth, 
that  firm  confidence  in  God,  without  which  nothing 
great  can  be  done  in  the  world,  and  least  of  all  in  the 
Church.  "  Erasmus  had  much,  but  was  little,"  said  one 
of  his  biographers.' 

1  Ad.  MuUtr. 


ERASMUS  GOES  TO  BALE. 


In  the  year  1517  a  crisis  had  arrived:  the  period  of 
the  revival  was  over,  that  of  the  Reformation  was 
beginning.  The  restoration  of  letters  was  succeeded 
by  the  regeneration  of  religion :  tlie  days  of  criticism 
and  neutrality  by  tiiose  of  courage  and  action.  Eras- 
mus was  then  only  forty-nine  years  old ;  but  he  had 
finished  his  career.  From  being  lirst,  ho  must  now  bo 
Second:  tlie  monk  of  WiUemberg  delhroned  him.  He 
looked  around  himself  in  vain :  placed  in  a  new 
country,  he  had  lost  his  road.  A  hero  was  needed  to 
inaugurate  the  great  movement  of  modern  times : 
Erasmus  was  a  more  man  of  letters. 

When  attacked  by  Standish,  in  151G,  the  literary 
king  determined  to  ([uit  the  court  of  England,  and 
take  refuge  in  a  printing  otfice.  But  before  laj-ing 
down  his  sceptre  at  the  foot  of  a  Saxon  monk,  he 
signalized  the  end  of  his  reign  by  the  most  brilliant  of 
his  publications.  The  epoch  of  151G-17,  memorable 
for  the  theses  of  Luther,  was  destined  to  be  equally 
remarkable  by  a  work  which  was  to  imprint  on  the 
new  times  their  essential  character.  What  distinguishes 
the  Reformation  from  all  anterior  revivals,  is  the  union 
of  learning  with  piety,  and  a  faith  more  profound, 
more  enlightened,  and  based  on  the  Word  of  God. 
The  Christian  people  was  then  emancipated  from  the 
tutelage  of  the  schools  and  the  popes,  and  its  charter 
of  enfranchisement  was  the  Bible.  The  sixteenth 
century  did  more  than  its  predecessors  :  it  went  straight 
to  the  fountain,  (the  Holy  Scriptures,)  cleared  it  of 
weeds  and  brambles,  plumbed  its  depths,  and  caused 
its  abundant  streams  to  pour  forth  on  all  around.  The 
Reformation  age  studied  the  Greek  Testament,  which 
the  clerical  age  had  almost  forgotten, — and  this  is  its 
greatest  glory.     Now,  the  first  explorer  of  this  Divine 


source  was  Erasmus.  When  attacked  by  the  hierarchy, 
the  leader  of  the  schools  withdrew  from  the  splendid 
halls  of  llcnry  VIII.     It  seemed  to  him  that  the  new 


THE  LOLLARD'S  PRISON, 
era  which  he  had  announced  to  the  world  was  rudely 
interrupted :  he  could  do  nothing  more  by  his  conver- 
sation for  the  country  of  the  Tiidors.  But  he  carried 
with  him  those  precious  leaves,  the  fruit  of  his  labours 
— a  book  which  would  do  more  than  ho  desired.  He 
hastened  to  Bale,  and  took  up  his  quarters  in  Fro- 
beuius's  printing  office,  where  he  not  only  laboured 
himself,  iDut  made  others  labour.  England  will  soon 
receive  the  seed  of  the  now  life,  and  the  Reformation 
is  about  to  begin. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


BOOK     XVIII. 


THE   REVIVAL   OF   THE   CnUKCH. 


CHAPTER  I. 


It  was  williiii  the  province  of  four  powers  in  the 
sixteenth  century  to  effect  a  reformation  of  tiie 
Churcli;  these  w<Te — the  papacy,  the  episcopate,  tlie 
monarchy,  and  Holy  Scripture. 

The  Keformatiou  in  England  was  essentially  the 
work  of  Scripture. 

The  only  true  reformation  is  that  which  emanates 
from  the  Word  of  God.  The  Holy  Scriptures,  by 
bearing  witness  to  the  incarnation,  death,  and  resur- 
rection of  the  Son  of  God,  create  iu  man,  by  the  Holy 
Ghost,  a  faith  which  justifies  him.  That  faith  which 
produces  iu  him  a  uew  life,  luiites  him  to  Christ, 
without  his  requiring  a  chain  of  bishops  or  a  Roman 
mediator,  who  would  separate  him  from  the  Saviour 
instead  of  drawing  him  nearer.  This  reformation  by 
the  Word  restores  that  spiritual  Christianity  which  the 
outward  and  hierarchical  religion  had  destroyed;  and 
from  the  regeneration  of  individuals  naturally  results 
the  regeneration  of  the  Church. 

The  Reformation  of  England,  perhaps  to  a  greater 
extent  than  that  of  the  Continent,  was  effected  by  the 
Word  of  God.  This  statement  may  appear  para- 
doxical, but  it  is  not  the  less  true.  Tliose  great 
individualities  we  meet  with  in  Germany,  Switzerland, 
aud  France — men  like  Luther,  Zwingle,  and  Calvin — 
do  not  aiipear  in  England;  but  Holy  Scripture  is 
widely  circulated.  What  brought  light  into  the  British 
isles  subsequently  to  the  year  1.517,  and  on  a  more 
extended  scale  after  the  year  152(5,  was  the  Word — 
the  invisible  power  of  the  invisible  God.  The  religion 
of  the  Anglo-Saxon  race — a  race  called  more  than 
any  other  to  cii'culate  the  oracles  of  God  throughout 
the  world — is  particularly  distinguished  by  its  biblical 
clinracter. 

The  Reformation  of  England  could  not  be  papal. 
No  reform  can  be  hoped  from  that  which  ought  to  be 
not  only  reformed  but  abolished;  and  besides,  no 
monarch  dethrones  himself.  We  may  even  affirm  that 
the  popedom  has  always  felt  a  peculiar  affection  for  its 
conquests  in  Britain,  and  that  they  would  have  been 
the  last  it  would  have  renounced.  A  serious  voice  had 
declared  in  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth  century:  "A 
reform  is  neither  in  the  will  uor  in  the  power  of  the 
popes." ' 

1  James  of  Juteibock,  prior  ot  the  Cailliusiana. 


The  Reformation  of  England  was  not  episcopal. 
Roman  hierarchism  will  never  be  abolished  by  Roman 
bishops.  An  episcopal  assembly  may  perhaps,  as  at 
Constance,  depose  three  competing  popes,  but  then  it 
will  be  to  save  the  papacy.  And  if  the  bishops  could 
not  abolish  the  papacy,  still  less  could  they  reform 
themselves.  The  then  existing  episcopal  power  being 
at  enmity  with  the  AVord  of  God,  and  the  slave  of  its 
own  abuses,  was  incapable  of  renovating  the  Church. 
On  the  contrary,  it  exerted  all  its  influence  to  prevent 
such  a  renovation. 

The  Reformation  in  England  was  not  royal.  Samuel, 
David,  and  Josiah,  were  able  to  do  something  for  the 
raising  up  of  the  Church  when  God  again  turned  His 
face  towards  it ;  but  a  king  cannot  rob  his  people  of 
their  religion,  aud  still  less  can  he  give  them  one.  It 
has  often  been  repeated  that  "  the  English  Reformation 
derives  its  origin  from  the  monarch  ;"  but  the  assertion 
is  incorrect.  The  work  of  God,  here  as  elsewhere, 
cannot  be  put  in  comparison  with  the  work  of  the 
king;  and  if  the  latter  was  infinitely  surpassed  in  im- 
portance, it  was  also  preceded  in  time  by  many 
years.  The  monarch  was  still  keeping  up  a  vigorous 
resistance  behind  his  entrenchments,  when  God  had 
already  decided  the  victory  along  the  whole  line  of 
operations. 

Shall  we  be  told  that  a  reform  effected  by  any  other 
principle  than  the  established  authorities,  both  in 
CImrch  and  State,  would  have  been  a  revolution  ?  But 
has  God,  the  lawful  sovereign  of  the  Church,  for- 
bidden all  revolution  iu  a  sinful  world?  A  revolution 
is  not  a  revolt.  The  fall  of  the  first  man  was  a  great 
revolution :  the  restoration  of  man  by  Jesus  Christ 
was  a  counter-revolution.  The  corruption  occasioned 
by  Popery  was  allied  to  the  fall :  the  reformation  ac- 
complished in  the  sixteenth  century  was  connected, 
therefore,  with  the  restoration.  There  will  no  doubt 
be  other  interventions  of  the  Deity,  which  will  be 
revolutions  in  the  same  direction  as  the  Reformation. 
When  God  creates  a  new  heaven  and  a  new  earth, 
will  not  that  be  one  of  the  most  glorious  of  revolu- 
tions'? The  reformation  by  the  Word  alone  gives 
truth,  alone  gives  unity;  but  more  than  that,  it  alone 
bears  the  marks  of  true  lei/itimaci/ ;  for  the  Church  be- 
longs not  unto  men,  even  though  they  be  priests.  God 
alone  is  its  lawful  sovereign. 

And  yet  the  human  elements  which  we  have 
enumerated  were  not  wholly  foreign  to  the  work 
that  was  accomplishing  in  England.  Besides  the 
Word  of  God,  other  principles  were  in  operation; 
and  although  less  radical  and  less  primitive,  they 
still  retain  the  sympathy  of  eminent  men  of  that 
nation. 

Aud  in  the  first  place,  the  intervention  of  the  king's 


ARRIVAL  OF  THE  NEW  TESTAMENT. 


607 


nuthority  was  necessary  to  a  certain  point.  Since  the 
supremacy  of  Rome  had  been  established  in  Enghind 
by  several  usages,  which  had  the  force  of  law,  tiie  in- 
tervention of  tlie  temporal  power  was  necessary  to 
break  the  bonds  whicli  it  had  previously  sanctioned. 
But  it  was  requisite  for  tlie  monarchy,  while  adopt- 
ing a  negative  and  political  action,  to  leave  tlic 
positive,  doctrinal,  and  creative  action  to  the  Word 
of  God. 

Besides  the  reformation  in  the  name  of  the  Scriptures, 
there  was  then  in  England  another  in  the  name  of  the 
king.  The  AVord  of  God  began,  the  kingly  power  fol- 
lowed ;  and  ever  since,  these  two  forces  have  some- 
times gone  together  against  the  authority  of  tlie  Roman 
pontiffs — sometimes  in  opposition  to  each  other,  like 
those  troops  which  march  side  by  side  in  the  same 
army,  against  the  same  enemy,  and  which  have  occa- 
sionally been  seen,  even  on  the  field  of  battle,  to  turn 
tlieir  swords  against  each  other. 

Finally,  the  episcopate,  which  had  begun  by  oppos- 
ing the  Reformation,  was  compelled  to  accept  it  in 
despite  of  its  convictions.  The  majority  of  the  bishops 
were  opposed  to  it ;  but  the  better  portion  wore  found 
to  incline,  some  to  the  side  of  outward  reform,  of 
which  separation  from  the  papacy  was  the  very  essence; 
and  others  to  the  side  of  internal  reform,  whose  main- 
spring was  union  with  Jesus  Christ.  Lastly,  the  epis- 
copate took  up  its  ground  on  it^j  own  account,  and  soon 
two  great  parties  alone  existed  in  England:  the  scrip- 
tural party,  and  the  clerical  party. 

These  two  parties  have  survived  even  to  our  days, 
and  their  colours  are  still  distinguishable  in  the  rivor 
of  the  Church,  like  the  muddy  Arve  and  tlie  limpid 
Rhone  after  their  confluence.  The  royal  supremacy, 
from  which  many  Christians,  preferring  the  paths  of 
independence,  have  withdrawn  since  the  end  of  the 
sixteenth  century,  is  recognised  by  both  parties  in  the 
establishment,  with  some  few  exceptions.  But  whilst 
the  High  Church  is  essentially  hierarchical,  the  Low 
Church  is  essentially  biblical.  In  the  one,  the  Church 
is  above  and  the  Word  below;  in  the  other,  the  Church 
is  below  and  the  Word  above.  These  two  principles, 
evangelism  and  hierarchism,  are  found  in  the  Chris- 
tianity of  the  first  centuries,  but  with  a  signal  differ- 
ence. Hierarchism  then  almost  entirely  effaced  evan- 
gelism ;  in  the  age  of  Protestantism,  on  tlie  contrary, 
evangelism  continued  to  exist  by  the  side  of  hierarchism, 
and  it  has  remained  de  jure,  if  not  always  de  facto,  the 
only  legitimate  opinion  of  the  Church. 

Thus  there  is  in  England  a  complication  of  in- 
fluences and  contests,  which  render  the  work  more 
difficult  to  describe ;  but  it  is  on  that  very  account 
more  worthy  the  attention  of  the  philosopher  and  the 
Christian. 

Great  events  had  just  occurred  in  Europe.  Francis  I. 
had  crossed  the  Alps,  gained  a  signal  victory  at  Marig- 
nano,  and  concpiered  the  north  of  Italy.  The  affrighted 
Maximilian  knew  of  none  who  could  save  him  but 
Ileury  VIII.  "I  will  adopt  you;  you  shall  be  my 
successor  in  the  empire,"  he  intimated  to  him,  in  May, 
1516.  "  Your  array  shall  invade  France ;  and  then  we 
will  march  together  to  Rome,  where  the  sovereign 
pontiff  shall  crown  you  king  of  the  Romans."     The 


King  of  France,  anxious  to  effect  a  diversion,  had 
formed  a  league  with  Denmark  and  Scotland,  and  had 
made  ))rcparations  for  invading  England  to  place  on 
the  throne  the  "  white  rose " — the  jiretender  Pole, 
heir  to  the  claims  of  the  house  of  York.  Henry  now 
showed  his  prudence ;  he  declined  Maximilian's  offer, 
and  turned  his  whole  attention  to  tlie  security  of  his 
kingdom.  But'  while  he  refused  to  bear  arms  in 
France  and  Italy,  a  war  of  quite  another  kind  broke 
out  in  England. 

The  great  work  of  the  sixteenth  century  was  about 
to  begiu.  A  volume,  fresh  from  the  presses  of  Bale, 
had  just  crossed  the  Ciiaunel.  Being  transmitted  to 
London,  Oxford,  and  Cambridge,  this  book,  the  fruit 
of  Erasmus's  vigils,  soon  found  its  way  wherever  there 
were  friends  of  learning.  It  was  the  New  Testament  of 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  published,  for  the  first  time,  in 
(ireek  with  a  new  Latin  translation — an  event  more 
important  for  the  world  than  would  have  been  the 
landing  of  the  pretender  in  England,  or  the  appearance 
of  the  chief  of  the  Tudors  in  Italy.  Tliis  book,  in 
which  God  has  deposited  for  man's  salvation  the  seeds 
of  life,  was  about  to  effect  alone,  without  patrons  and 
without  interpreters,  the  most  astonishing  revolution 
in  Britain. 

When  Erasmus  published  this  work,  at  the  dawn, 
so  to  say,  of  modern  times,  he  did  not  see  all  its  scope. 
Had  he  foreseen  it,  he  would  perhaps  have  recoiled  in 
alarm.  He  saw,  indeed,  that  there  was  a  great  work 
to  be  done,  but  he  believed  that  all  good  men  would 
unite  to  do  it  with  common  accord.  "A  spiritual 
temple  must  be  raised  in  desolated  Christendom,"  said 
he.  '•  The  mighty  of  this  world  will  contribute  towards 
it  their  marble,  their  ivory,  and  their  gold ;  I  who  am 
poor  and  humble  offer  the  foundation  stone ;"  and  he 
laid  down  before  the  world  his  edition  of  the  Greek 
Testament.  Then,  glancing  disdainfully  at  the  tra- 
ditions of  men,  he  said:  "It  is  not  from  human  reser- 
voirs, fetid  with  stagnant  waters,  that  we  should  draw 
the  doctrine  of  salvation ;  but  from  the  pure  and 
abundant  streams  that  flow  from  the  heart  of  God." 
And  when  some  of  his  suspicious  friends  spoke  to  him 
of  the  difficulties  of  the  times,  he  replied:  '-If  the 
ship  of  the  Church  is  to  be  saved  from  being  swallowed 
up  by  the  tempest,  there  is  only  one  anchor  that  can 
save  it :  it  is  the  heavenly  Word,  which,  issuing  from 
the  bosom  of  the  Father,  lives,  speaks,  and  works  still 
in  the  Gospel."  Those  noble  sentimeuts  served  as  an 
introduction  to  those  blessed  pages  which  were  to 
reform  England.  Erasmus,  like  Caiaphas,  prophesied 
without  being  aware  of  it. 

The  Xew  Testament  in  Greek  and  Latin  had  hardly 
appeared  when  it  was  received  by  all  men  of  upright 
mind  with  unprecedented  enthusiasm.  Never  had  any 
book  produced  such  a  sensation.  It  was  in  every 
hand  •  men  struggled  to  procure  it,  read  it  eagerly,  and 
would  even  kiss  it.  The  words  it  contained  enlightened 
every  heart.  But  a  reaction  soon  took  place.  Tra- 
ditional Catholicism  uttered  a  cry  from  tlie  depths  of 
its  noisome  pools,  (to  use  Erasmus's  figure.)  Francis- 
cans and  Dominicans,  priests  and  bishops,  not  daring 
to  attack  the  educated  and  well-born,  went  among  the 
ignorant  populace,  and  endeavoured,  by  their  tales  and 
clamours,  to  stir  up  susceptible  women  and  credulous 


6U8 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


men.  "  Here  are  horrible  heresies,"  they  exdaimedi 
"here  are  frightful  antichrists!  If  tliis  book  be 
tolerated  it  will  be  the  death  of  the  papacy!" — "We 
must  drive  tliis  man  from  the  university,"  said  one. 
"  We  must  turn  him  out  of  the  church,"  added  another. 
'•  The  public  jdaces  re-echoed  with  their  bowlings," 
said  Erasmus.  The  firebrands  tossed  by  their  furious 
hands  were  raising  fires  in  every  quarter;  and  the 
flames  kindled  in  a  few  obscure  convents  threatened  to 
spread  over  the  whole  country. 

This  irritation  was  not  without  a  cause.  The  book, 
indeed,  contained  nothing  but  Latin  and  C4reek;  but 
this  first  step  seemed  to  augur  another — the  translation 
of  the  Bible  into  the  vulgiir  tongue.  Erasmus  loudly 
called  for  it.  "  Perhaps  it  may  be  necessary  to  con- 
ceal the  secrets  of  kings,"  he  remarked;  "but  we 
must  publish  the  mysteries  of  Christ.  The  Holy 
Scriptures,  translated  into  all  languages,  should  be 
read  not  only  by  the  Scotch  and  Irish,  but  even  by 
Turks  and  Saracens.  The  husbandman  should  sing 
them  as  he  holds  the  handle  of  his  plough;  the  weaver 
repeat  them  as  he  plies  his  shuttle ;  and  the  wearied 
traveller,  haltiug  on  his  journey,  refresh  him  under 
some  shady  tree  by  these  godly  narratives."  These 
words  prefigured  a  golden  age  after  the  iron  age  of 
Popery.  A  number  of  Christian  families  in  Britain 
and  on  the  Continent  were  soon  to  realize  these  evan- 
gelical forebodings  ;  and  England,  after  three  centuries, 
was  to  endeavour  to  carry  them  out  for  the  benefit  of 
all  the  nations  on  the  face  of  the  earth. 

The  priests  saw  the  danger,  and  by  a  skilful 
manccuvre,  instead  of  finding  fault  with  the  Greek 
Testament,  attacked  the  translation  and  the  translator. 
"  He  has  corrected  the  Vulgate,"  they  said,  "  and  puts 
himself  in  the  place  of  St.  Jerome.  Ho  sets  aside  a 
work  authorized  by  the  consent  of  ages,  and  inspired 
by  the  Holy  Ghost.  What  audacity!"  And  then, 
turning  over  the  pages,  they  pointed  out  the  most 
odious  passages:  "Look  here!  this  book  calls  upon 
men  to  repent,  instead  of  requiring  them,  as  the  Vulgate 
does,  to  do  penanae!"  (Matt.  iv.  17.)  The  priests 
thundered  against  him  from  their  pulpits  :  "  This  man 
has  committed  the  unpardonable  sin,"  they  asserted ; 
"  for  he  maintains  that  there  is  nothing  in  common 
between  the  Holy  Ghost  and  the  monks— that  they 
are  logs  rather  than  men!"  These  simple  remarks 
were  received  with  a  general  laugh ;  but  the  priests, 
in  no  wise  disconcerted,  cried  out  all  the  louder : 
"  He 's  a  heretic,  an  heresiarch,  a  forger !  he  's  a  goose 
.     .     .     what  do  I  say ?  he's  a  veiy  antichrist!" 

It  was  not  sufficient  for  the  papal  janissaries  to 
make  war  in  the  plain ;  they  must  carry  it  to  the 
higher  ground.  Was  not  the  king  a  friend  of  Erasmus  ? 
If  he  should  declare  himself  a  patron  of  the  Greek  and 
Latin  Testament,  what  an  awful  calamity!  .  .  . 
After  having  agitated  the  cloisters,  towns,  and  univer- 
sities, they  resolved  to  protest  against  it  boldly,  even 
in  Henry's  presence.  They  thought:  "If  he  is  won, 
all  is  won."  It  happened  one  day  that  a  certain  theo- 
logian, (whose  name  is  not  given,)  having  to  preach  in 
his  turn  before  the  king,  he  declaimed  violently  against 
the  Greek  language  and  its  new  intcrpi-eters.  Pace, 
the  king's  secretary,  was  present,  and  turning  his  eyes 
ou  Henry,    observed  him   smiling  good-humouredly. 


On  leaving  the  church,  every  one  began  to  exclaim 
against  the  preacher.  "  Bring  the  priest  to  me,"  said 
the  king ;  and  then  turning  to  More,  he  added :  "  1  on 
shall  defend  the  Greek  cause  against  him,  and  I  will 
listen  to  the  disputation."  The  literary  tribunal  was 
soon  formed ;  but  the  sovereign's  order  had  taken 
away  all  the  priest's  courage.  He  came  forward 
trembling,  fell  on  his  knees,  and  with  clasped  hands 
exclaimed:  "I  know  not  what  spirit  impelled  me." 
"A  spirit  of  madness,"  said  the  king,  "and  not  the 
spirit  of  Jesus  Christ."  He  then  added  :  "  Have  you 
ever  read  Erasmus?" — "No,  sire."  "Away  with  you 
then,  you  are  a  blockhead." — "And  yet,"  said  the 
preacher  in  confusion,  "  I  remember  to  have  read 
something  about  Moria"  (Erasmus's  treatise  on  Follif.) 
— "A  subject,  your  majesty,  that  ought  to  be  very 
familiar  to  him,"  wickedly  interrupted  Pace.  Tlie 
obscurant  could  say  nothing  in  his  justification.  "I 
am  not  altogether  opposed  to  the  Greek,"  he  added  at 
last,  "  seeiug  that  it  is  derived  from  the  Hebrew." 
This  was  greeted  with  a  general  laugh ;  and  the 
king  impatiently  ordered  the  monk  to  leave  the  room, 
and  never  appear  before  him  again. 

Erasmus  was  astonished  at  these  discussicms.  He 
had  imagined  the  season  to  be  most  favourable. 
"  Everything  looks  peaceful,"  he  had  said  to  himself ; 
"  now  is  the  time  to  launch  my  Greek  Testament  into 
the  learned  world."  As  well  might  the  sun  rise  upon 
the  earth,  and  no  one  see  it !  At  that  very  hour  God 
was  raising  up  a  monk  at  Wittemberg,  who  would  lift 
the  trumpet  to  his  lips,  and  proclaim  the  new  day. 
"Wretch  that  I  am!"  exclaimed  the  timid  scholar, 
beating  his  breast,  "  who  could  have  foreseen  this 
horrible  tempest ! " 

Nothing  was  more  important  at  the  dawn  of  the 
Reformation  than  the  publication  of  the  Testament  of 
Jesus  Christ  in  the  original  language.  Never  had 
Erasmus  worked  so  carefully.  "  If  I  told  wiiat  sweat 
it  cost  me,  no  one  would  believe  me."  He  had  collated 
many  Greek  MSS.  of  the  New  Testament;  and  was 
surrounded  by  all  the  commentaries  and  translations, 
by  the  writings  of  Orlgen,  Cyprian,  Ambrose,  Basil, 
Chrysostom,  Cyril,  Jerome,  and  Augustine.  Ilic  sum 
in  cctmpo  meo!  he  exclaimed,  as  he  sat  in  the  midst  of 
his  books.  He  had  investigated  the  texts  according  to 
the  principles  of  sacred  criticism.  When  a  knowledge 
of  Hebrew  was  necessary,  he  had  consulted  Capito, 
and  more  particularly  CEcolampadius.  Nothing  with- 
out Theseus,  said  he  of  the  latter,  making  use  of  a 
Greek  proverb.  He  had  corrected  the  amphibologies, 
obscurities,  hebraisms,  and  barbarisms  of  the  Vulgate; 
and  had  caused  a  list  to  be  printed  of  the  errors  in 
that  version. 

"We  must  restore  the  pure  text  of  the  Word  of 
God,"  he  had  said ;  and  when  he  heard  the  maledic- 
tions of  the  priests,  he  had  exclaimed  :  "  I  call  God  to 
witness  I  thought  I  was  doing  a  work  acceptable  to 
the  Lord,  and  necessary  to  the  cause  of  Christ."  Nor 
in  this  was  he  deceived. 

At  the  head  of  his  adversaries  was  Edward  Lee, 
successively  king's  almoner,  archdeacon  of  Colchester, 
and  archbi'shop  of  York.  Lee,  at  that  time  but  little 
known,  was  a  man  of  talent  and  activity,  but  also 
vain  and  loquacious,  and  determined  to  make  his  way 


LEE'S  CHARACTER  AND  MANIFESTO. 


at  any  cost.  Even  wlien  a  school-boy  ho  looked  down 
on  all  his  companions.  As  child,  youth,  man,  and  in 
mature  years,  he  was  always  the  same,  Erasmus  tells 
us ;  that  is  to  say,  vain,  envious,  jealous,  boastiiif^, 
passionate,  and  revengeful.  AVe  must  bear  in  mind, 
however,  that  when  Erasmus  describes  the  character 
of  his  opponents,  he  is  far  from  being  an  impartial 
judge.  In  the  bosom  of  Roman  Catholicism,  there  have 
always  existed  well-meaning,  though  ill-informed  mcu, 
wiio,  not  knowing  the  interior  [lowcr  of  the  Word  of 
God,  have  thought  that  if  its  authority  were  substituted 
for  that  of  the  Komish  Churcli,  the  only  foundation  of 
trutii  and  of  Christian  society  would  be  shaken.  Yet, 
while  we  judge  Lee  less  severely  tiiau  Erasmus  does, 
we  cannot  close  our  eyes  to  his  faults.  His  memory 
was  richly  furnished,  but  his  heart  was  a  stranger  to 
Divine  truth :  he  was  a  schoolman,  and  not  a  believer. 
He  wanted  the  people  to  obey  the  Churcli,  and  not 
trouble  themselves  about  the  Scriptures.  He  was  the 
Doctor  Eck  of  England ;  but  with  more  of  outward 
appearance  and  morality  than  Luther's  adversary. 
Yet  he  was  by  no  means  a  rigid  moralist.  On  one 
occasion,  when  preaching  at  the  palace,  he  introduced 
ballads  into  his  sermon,  one  of  which  began  thus : — 

'Taas  time  with  good  company." 

And  the  other ; — 


"We  are  indebted  to  Secretary  Pace  for  this  charac- 
teristic trait. 

During  tlie  sojourn  of  Erasmus  in  England,  Lee, 
observing  his  inHueuce,  had  souglit  his  friendship ; 
and  Erasmus,  with  his  usual  courtesy,  had  solicited  his 
advice  upon  his  work.  But  Lee,  jealous  of  his  great 
reputation,  only  waited  for  an  opportunity  to  injure  it, 
which  he  seized  upon  as  soon  as  it  occurred.  The 
New  Testament  had  not  been  long  published,  when 
Lee  turned  round  abruptly,  and  from  being  Erasmus's 
frieud  became  his  implacable  adversary.  "  If  we  do 
not  stop  this  leak,"  said  he,  when  he  heard  of  the 
New  Testament,  "  it  will  sink  the  ship."  Nothing 
terrifies  tiie  defenders  of  human  traditions  so  much  as 
the  Word  of  God. 

Lee  immediately  leagued  himself  with  all  those  in 
England  who  abhorred  the  study  of  Scripture,  says 
Erasmus.  Although  exceedingly  conceited,  he  shewed 
himself  the  most  amiable  of  meu,  in  order  to  accom- 
plish his  designs.  He  invited  Englishmen  to  his  house, 
welcomed  strangers,  and  gained  many  recruits  by  the 
excellence  of  his  dinners.  While  seated  at  table  among 
his  guests,  he  hinted  perfidious  charges  against  Eras- 
mus, and  his  company  left  him  "loaded  with  lies." — 
"III  this  New  Testament,"  said  he,  "there  are  three 
huudred  dangerous,  frightful  passages  .  .  ^  three 
hundred  did  I  say?  .     .     there  are  more  than  a 

thousand ! "  Not  satisfied  with  using  his  tongue,  Lee 
wrote  scores  of  letters,  and  employed  several  secretaries. 
AVas  there  any  convent  in  the  odour  of  sanctity,  he 
"forwarded  to  it  iustantly  wine,  choice  viands,  and 
other  presents."  To  each  one  he  assigned  his  part, 
and  over  all  England  they  were  rehearsing  what 
Erasmus  calls  Lee's  Trmjedy.  In  this  manner  they 
were  preparing  the  catastrophe  :  a  prison  for  Erasmus, 
the  fire  for  the  Holy  Scriptures. 


AVhen  all  was  arranged,  Lee  issued  his  manifesto. 
Although  a  poor  Cireek  scholar,  he  drew  up  some 
Annutatiuiis  on  Erasmus's  book,  which  the  latter  called 
"  mere  abuse  and  blasphemy,"  but  which  the  members 
of  the  league  regarded  as  uracleg.  Tiiey  passed  them 
secretly  from  hand  to  hand;  and  these  obscure  sheets, 
by  many  indirect  channels,  found  their  way  into  every 
part  of  England,  and  met  with  numerous  readers. 
There  was  to  be  no  publication — such  w:us  the  watch- 
word ;  Lee  was  too  much  afraid.  "  AVhy  did  you  not 
publish  your  work  ?"  asked  Erasmus,  with  cutting 
irony.  "AVho  knows  whether  the  holy  father,  ap- 
pointing you  the  Aristarchus  of  letters,  might  not 
have  sent  you  a  birch  to  keep  the  whole  world  ia 
order." 

The  Annotations  having  triumphed  in  the  convents, 
the  conspiraci/  took  a  new  fiight.     In  every  place  of 
public  resort,  at  fairs  and  markets,  at  the  dinner-table 
and  in  the  council-chamber,  in  shops,  and   taverus, 
and  houses  of  ill-fame,  in  churches  and  in  the  uni- 
versities, in  cottages  and  in  palaces,  the  league  blat- 
tered   against    Erasmus    and    the    Greek   Testament. 
Carmelites,  Dominicaus,  and  Sophists,  invoked  heaven     i 
and  conjured  hell.    AVhat  need  was  there  of  Scripture?     j 
ILad  they  not  the  apostolical  succession  of  the  clergy  ? 
No   hostile   landing  in   England  could,  in  their  eyes, 
be  more  fatal  than  that  of  the   New  Testament.     The 
whole  nation  must  rise  to  repel  this  impudent  invasion. 
There  is,  perhaps,  no  country  in   Europe  where   the     I 
licformation  was  received  by  so  uuexpected  a  storm.         1 


CHAPTER  n. 

Elects  of  the  New  Testament  in  the  Univcr 
Cambridge  Fellow— Bilney  buys  the  \cw  To 
sage— His  Conversion— Protestantism,  the  Fniit  of  the  Gospel— Tlio 
Vale  of  the  Severn— WiUiara  Tyndale— Evangelization  at  Oxford— 
Bilney  Teaches  at  Cambridge — Fryth — Is  Conversion  Possible? — Tnre 
Consecration— The  Reformation  has  begun. 

AVniLE  this  rude  blast  was  rushing  over  England,  and 
roaring  in  the  long  galleries  of  its  convents,  the  stUl 
small  voice  of  the  AVord  was  making  its  way  into  the 
peaceful  homes  of  praying  men,  and  the  ancient  halls 
of  Oxford  and  Cambridge.  In  private  chambers,  in 
the  lecture-rooms  aud  refectories,  students,  and  even 
masters  of  arts,  were  to  be  seen  reading  the  Greek 
aud  Latin  Testament.  Animated  groups  were  dis- 
cussing the  principles  of  the  Reformation.  When 
Christ  came  on  earth  (said  some)  He  gave  the  AA'ord, 
and  when  He  ascended  up  into  heaven  He  gave  the 
Holy  Spirit.  These  are  the  two  forces  which  created 
the  Church,  aud  these  are  the  forces  that  must  re- 
generate it.  No,  (replied  the  partisans  of  Rome.)  it 
was  the  teaching  of  the  Apostles  at  first,  and  it  is  the 
teaching  of  the  priests  now.  The  Apostles  (rejoined 
the  friends  of  the  Testament  of  Erasmus)— yes,  it  is 
true — the  Apostles  were,  during  their  ministry,  a  living 
Scripture;  but  their  oral  tcachiug  would  infallibly 
have  been  altered  by  passing  from  mouth  to  mouth, 
God  willed,  therefore,  that  these  precious  lessons 
2  R 


610 


HISTORY  OF  THE  EEFORMATION. 


should  be  preserved  to  us  iu  their  writings,  and  thus 
become  the  over-uudefiled  source  of  trutli  aud  salva- 
tion. To  set  the  Scriptures  iu  the  foremost  place,  as 
your  pretended  reformers  are  doing,  (replied  the  scliool- 
men  of  Oxford  and  Cambridge,)  is  to  propagate 
heresy!  Aud  what  are  the  reformers  doing  (asked 
tlicir  apologists)  except  wliat  Clirist  did  before  them  ? 
The  sayings  of  the  prophets  existed  in  the  time  of 
Jesus  only  as  Scripture;  aud  it  was  to  this  written  Word 
that  our  Lord  appealed  when  lie  founded  His  kingdom. 
And  now,  in  like  manner,  the  teaching  of  the  Apostles 
exists  only  as  Scripture;  aud  it  is  to  this  written  AVord 
that  we  appeal  in  order  to  re-establish  the  kingdom  of 
our  Lord  in  its  primitive  condition.  The  uight  is  far 
spent,  the  day  is  at  hand;  all  is  in  motion, — in  the 
lofty  halls  of  our  colleges,  in  the  mansions  of  the  rich 
and  noble,  and  iu  the  lowly  dwellings  of  the  poor.  If 
we  want  to  scatter  the  darkness,  must  we  light  the 
shrivelled  wick  of  some  old  lamp?  Ought  we  not 
rather  to  open  the  doors  and  shutters,  and  admit  freely 
into  the  house  the  great  light  which  God  has  placed 
in  the  heavens  ? 

There  was  in  Trinity  Hall,  Cambridge,  a  young 
doctor  much  given  to  the  study  of  the  canon  law,  of 
serious  turn  of  mind  aud  bashful  disposition;  and 
whose  tender  conscience  strove,  although  ineffectually, 
to  fulfil  the  commandments  of  God.  Anxious  about 
his  salvation,  Thomas  Bilney  applied  to  the  priests, 
whom  he  looked  upon  as  physicians  of  the  soul. 
Kneeling  before  his  confessor,  with  humble  look  and 
pale  face,  he  told  him  all  his  sins,  and  even  those  of 
which  he  doubted.  The  priest  prescribed  at  one  time 
fasting,  at  another  prolonged  vigils,  and  then  masses 
aud  indulgences  which  cost  him  dearly.  The  poor 
doctor  went  through  all  these  practices  with  great 
devotion,  but  found  no  consolation  iu  them.  Being 
weak  and  slender,  his  body  wasted  away  by  degrees ; 
his  understanding  grew  weaker,  his  imagination  faded, 
and  his  purse  became  empty.  "  Alas  !"  said  he,  with 
anguish,  "  my  last  state  is  worse  than  the  first." 
From  time  to  time  an  idea  crossed  his  mind:  "May  not 
the  priests  be  seeking  their  own  interest,  and  not  the  sal- 
vation of  my  soul."  But  immediately  rejecting  the  rash 
doubt,  he  fell  back  under  the  iron  hand  of  the  clergy. 

One  day  Bilney  heard  his  friends  talking  about  a 
new  book :  it  was  the  Greek  Testament,  printed  with 
a  translation  which  was  highly  praised  for  its  elegant 
Latinity.  Attracted  by  the  beauty  of  the  style, 
rather  than  by  the  divinity  of  the  subject,  he  stretched 
out  his  hand;  but  just  as  he  was  going  to  take  the 
volume,  fear  came  upon  him,  and  he  withdrew  it 
hastily.  In  fact,  the  confessors  strictly  prohibited 
Greek  and  Hebrew  books, — "the  sources  of  all 
heresies;"  and  Erasmus's  Testament  was  particularly 
forbidden.  Yet  Bilney  regretted  so  great  a  sacrifice : 
was  it  not  the  Testament  of  Jesus  Christ  ?  Might  not 
God  have  placed  therein  some  word  which  perhaps 
might  heal  his  soul?     He  stepped  forward,  aud  then 

again   shrank   back At  last   he   took 

courage.  Urged,  said  he,  by  the  hand  of  God,  he 
walked  out  of  the  college,  slipped  into  the  house 
where  the  volume  was  sold  in  secret,  bought  it  with 
fear  and  trembling,  and  then  hastened  back  aud  shut 
himself  up  in  his  room. 


He  opened  it — his  eyes  caught  these  words ;  This  is 
a  faithful  saying,  and  u-orthij  of  all  acceptation,  that 
Christ  Jesus  came  into  the  irorld  to  save  sinners;  of  whom 
I  am  chief.  He  laid  down  the  hook,  and  meditated  on 
the  astonishing  declaration.  "What!  St.  Paul  the 
chief  of  sinners,  and  yet  St.  Paul  is  sure  of  being 
saved !"  He  read  the  verse  again  and  again.  '•  O 
assertion  of  St.  Paul,  how  sweet  art  thou  to  my  soul !" 
he  exclaimed.  This  declaration  continually  haunted 
him;  and  in  this  manner  God  iustructed  him  in  the 
secret  of  his  heart.  He  could  not  tell  what  had 
happened  to  him;  it  seemed  as  if  a  refreshing  wind 
were  blowing  over  his  soul,  or  as  if  a  rich  treasure 
had  been  placed  in  his  hands.  The  Holy  Spirit  took 
what  was  Christ's,  and  announced  it  to  him.  "  I  also 
am  like  Paid,"  exclaimed  he,  with  emotion,  "  and 
more  than  Paul,  the  greatest  of  sinners!  .... 
But  Christ  saves  sinners.  At  last  I  have  heard  of 
Jesus." 

His  doubts  were  ended, — he  was  saved.  Then  took 
place  in  him  a  wonderful  transformation.  An  un- 
known joy  pervaded  him ;  his  conscience,  until  then 
sore  with  the  wounds  of  sin,  was  healed ;  instead  of 
despair,  he  felt  an  inward  peace  passing  all  under- 
standing. "Jesus  Christ,"  exclaimed  he,  "yes,  Jesus 
Christ  saves  !"  ....  Such  is  the  character  of 
the  Reformation ;  it  is  Jesus  Christ  who  saves,  and 
not  the  Church.  "I  see  it  all,"  said  Bilney;  "my 
vigils,  my  fasts,  my  pilgrimages,  my  purchase  of 
masses  aud  indulgences,  were  destroying  instead  of 
saving  me.  All  these  efforts  were,  as  St.  Augustine 
says,  a  hasty  running  out  of  the  right  way." 

Bilney  never  grew  tired  of  reading  his  New  Testa- 
ment. He  no  longer  lent  an  attentive  ear  to  the 
teaching  of  the  schoolmen;  he  heard  Jesus  at  Caper- 
naum, Peter  in  the  temple,  Paul  on  ISIars'  hill,  and 
felt  within  himself  that  Christ  possesses  the  words  of 
eternal  life.  A  witness  to  Jesus  Christ  had  just  been 
boru  by  the  same  power  which  had  transformed  Paul, 
Apollos,  and  Timothy.  The  Reformation  of  England 
was  beginning.  Bilney  was  united  to  the  Son  of  God, 
not  by  a  remote  succession,  but  by  an  immediate 
generation.  Leaving  to  the  disciples  of  the  pope  the 
entangled  chain  of  their  imaginary  succession,  whose 
links  it  is  impossible  to  disengage,  he  attached  himself 
closely  to  Christ.  The  Word  of  the  first  century  gave 
birth  to  the  sixteenth.  Protestantism  does  not  descend 
from  the  Gospel  in  the  fiftieth  generation,  like  the 
Romish  Chm-ch  of  the  Council  of  Trent,  or  in  the 
sixtieth,  like  some  modern  doctors ;  it  is  the  direct 
legitimate  son — the  son  of  the  Master. 

God's  action  was  not  limited  to  one  spot.  The  first 
rays  of  the  sun  from  on  high  gilded  with  their  fires  at 
once  the  gothic  colleges  of  Oxford  and  the  antique 
schools  of  Cambridge. 

Along  the  banks  of  the  Severn  extends  a  picturesque 
couutry,  bounded  by  the  forest  of  Dean,  and  sprinkled 
with  villages,  steeples,  aud  ancient  castles.  In  the 
sixteenth  century  it  was  particularly  admired  by 
priests  aud  friars,  aud  a  familiar  oath  among  them 
was:  "As  sure  as  God's  in  Glo'ster!"  The  papal 
birds  of  prey  had  swooped  upon  it.  For  fifty  years, 
from  1484  to  1534,  four  Italian  bishops,  placed  in 
succession  over  the  diocese,  had  surrendered  it  to  tlie 


EVANGELIZATION  AT  OXFORD. 


CU 


pope,  to  the  monlis,  and  to  immorality.  Thieves  in 
parlit'uhir  were  the  objects  of  the  teiulerest  fivvours  of 
the  Iiierarchy.  Joliii  ilc  Gijjlis,  collector  of  the 
niiostoliciil  chambei',  had  received  from  the  sovereign 
lioiititT  luitluirity  to  pardon  mnrdor  and  theft,  on  con- 
dition tluit  the  criminal  shared  liis  i)rofits  with  the 
pontifical  commissioners. 

In  this  valley,  at  the  foot  of  Stinchconib  hill,  to  the 
soutli-west  of  Gloucester,  there  dwelt,  dnrinjr  the 
latter  lialf  of  the  fifteenth  century,  a  family  -which 
had  taken  refuge  there  during  the  wars  of  the  Koses, 
and  assumed  the  name  of  Llutchins.  In  the  reign  of 
Henry  Xll.,  the  Lancasterian  party  having  the  upper 
hand,  they  resumed  their  name  of  Tyndale,  -which  had 
been  borne  of  yore  by  many  noble  barons.  In  1464, 
about  a  year  after  the  birth  of  Luther,  and  about  the 
time  that  Zwingle  first  saw  light  in  the  mountains  of 
the  Tockeuburg,  these  partisans  of  the  i-ed  rose  were 
blessed  with  a  son,  whom  they  called  William.  His 
youth  was  passed  in  the  fields  surrounding  his  native 
village  of  North  Nibley,  beneath  the  shadows  of 
Berkeley  Castle,  or  beside  the  rapid  waters  of  the 
Severn,  and  in  the  midst  of  friars  and  pontifical 
collectors.  He  was  sent  very  early  to  Oxford,  where 
he  learnt  grammar  and  philosophy  in  the  school  of 
St.  Mary  Magdalene,  adjoining  the  college  of  that 
name.  He  made  rapid  progress,  particularly  in 
languages,  luidcr  the  first  Classical  scholars  in  Eng- 
land— Grocyn,  W.  Latimer,  and  Liuacre, — and  took 
his  degrees.  A  more  excellent  master  than  these 
doctors — the  Holy  Spirit  speaking  in  Scripture — was 
soon  to  teach  him  a  science  which  it  is  not  in  the 
power  of  man  to  impart. 

Oxford,  where  Erasmus  had  so  many  friends,  was 
the  city  in  which  his  New  Testament  met  with 
the  warmest  welcome.  The  young  Gloucestershire 
student,  inwardly  impelled  towards  the  study  of  sacred 
literature,  read  the  celebrated  book,  which  was  then 
attracting  the  attention  of  Christendom.  At  first  he 
regarded  it  only  as  a  work  of  learning,  or  at  most  as 
a  manual  of  piety,  whose  beauties  were  calculated  to 
excite  religious  feelings  ;  but  erelong  he  found  it  to  be 
something  more.  The  more  he  read  it,  the  more  was 
lie  struck  by  the  truth  and  energy  of  the  Word. 
The  strange  book  spoke  to  him  of  God,  of  Christ,  and 
of  regeneration,  with  a  simplicity  and  authority  which 
completely  subdued  him.  'William  had  found  a  master 
whom  he  had  not  sought  at  Oxford— this  was  God 
himself.  The  pages  he  held  in  his  hand  were  the 
Diviue  revelation  so  long  mislaid.  Possessing  a  noble 
soul,  a  bold  spirit,  and  indefatigable  activity,  he  did 
not  keep  this  treasure  to  himself.  He  uttered  that 
cr}',  more  suited  to  a  Christian  than  to  Archimedes  : 
fSpTiKa,  1  have  found  it.  It  was  not  long  before  several 
of  the  younger  members  of  the  university,  attracted 
by  the  purity  of  his  life  and  the  charms  of  his  con- 
versation, gathered  round  him,  and  read  with  him 
the  Greek  and  Latin  G  ospels  of  Erasmus.  "  A  certain 
well-informed  young  man,"  ■v'lTote  Erasmus  in  a  letter 
wherein  he  speaks  of  the  publication  of  his  New 
Testament,  "  began  to  lecture  with  success  on  Greek 
literature  at  Oxford."  He  was  probably  speaking  of 
Tyndale. 

The  monks  took  the  alarm.     ".4  barhaiian,"  con- 


tinues Erasmus,  "  entered  the  pulpit  and  violently 
abused  the  Greek  language.'' — "These  folk,"  said 
Tyndale,  '"wished  to  extinguish  the  light  which  ex- 
posed their  trickery,  and  tiiey  have  been  laying  their 
plans  these  dozen  years."  This  observation  was  made 
in  loSl,  and  refers,  therefore,  to  the  proceedings  of 
1517.  Germany  and  England  were  beginning  the 
struggle  at  nearly  the  same  time ;  and  Oxforil  perhaps 
before  Wittemberg.  Tyndale,  bearing  in  mind  the 
injunction:  "When  they  persecute  you  in  one  city, 
flee  j'o  into  another,"  left  Oxford  and  proceeded  to 
Cambridge.  It  nuist  needs  be  that  souls  whom  God 
has  brought  to  His  knowledge  should  meet  and  en- 
lighten one  another:  live  coals,  when  separated,  go 
out;  when  gathered  together,  they  brighten  up,  so 
ius  even  to  purify  silver  and  gold.  The  Romish 
hierarchy,  not  knowing  what  they  did,  were  collecting 
the  scattered  brands  of  the  Keformation. 

Bilney  was  not  inactive  at  Cambridge.  Not  long 
had  the  "sublime  lesson  of  Jesus  Christ"  filled  him  with 
joy,  before  he  fell  on  his  knees,  and  exclaimed :  "  0 
Thou  who  art  the  truth,  give  me  strength  that  I  may 
teach  it ;  and  convert  the  ungodly  by  means  of  one 
who  has  been  ungodly  himself."  After  this  prayer  his 
eyes  gleamed  with  new  fire ;  he  had  assembled  his 
friends,  and  opening  Erasmus's  Testament,  had  placed 
his  finger  on  the  words  that  had  reached  his  soul,  and 
these  words  had  touched  many.  The  arrival  of 
Tyndale  gave  him  fresh  courage,  and  the  light  burnt 
brighter  in  Cambridge. 

John  Fryth,  a  young  man  of  eighteen,  the  son  of  an 
innkeeper  of  Sevenoaks  in  Kent,  was  distinguished 
among  the  students  of  King's  College,  by  the  prompti- 
tude of  his  understanding  and  the  integrity  of  his  life. 
He  was  as  deeply  read  in  the  mathematics  as  Tyndale 
in  the  Classics,  and  Bilney  in  canon  law.  Although 
of  an  exact  turn  of  mind,  yet  his  soul  was  elevated ; 
and  he  recognised  in  Holy  Scripture  a  learning  of  a 
new  kind.  "  These  things  are  not  demonstrated  like  a 
proposition  of  Euclid,"  he  said ;  "  mere  study  is 
sullicient  to  impress  the  theories  of  mathematics  on 
our  minds ;  but  this  science  of  God  meets  with  a 
resistance  in  man  that  necessitates  the  intervention  of 
a  divine  power.  Christianity  is  a  regeneration."  The 
heavenly  seed  soon  grew  up  in  Fryth's  heart. 

These  three  young  scholars  set  to  work  with  en- 
thusiasm. They  declared  that  neither  priestly  absolu- 
tion nor  any  other  religious  rite  could  give  remission 
of  sins ;  that  the  assurance  of  pardon  is  obtained  by 
faith  alone;  and  that  faith  purifies  the  heart.  Then 
they  addressed  to  all  men  that  saying  of  Christ's  at 
which  the  monks  were  so  offended:  Itcjienl  and  be 
converted! 

Ideas  so  new  produced  a  gi-eat  clamour.  A  famous 
orator  undertook  one  day  at  Cambridge  to  shew  that 
it  was  useless  to  preach  conversion  to  the  sinner. 
"Thou,  who,  for  sixty  years  past,"  said  he,  "hast 
wallowed  in  thy  lusts,  like  a  sow  in  her  mire,  dost 
thou  think  that  thou  canst,  in  one  year,  take  as  many 
stops  towards  heaven,  and  that  in  thine  age,  as  thou 
hast  done  towards  hell?"  Bilney  left  the  church  with 
indignation.  "Is  that  preaching  repentance  in  the 
name  of  Jesus '?"  he  asked.  •'  Does  not  this  priest  tell 
us:   Christ  will  not  save  thee.     Alas!    for  so  many 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


years  that  this  deadly  doctrine  has  been  taught  in 
Christendom,  not  one  man  has  dared  open  his  mouth 
against  it!"  Many  of  the  Cambridge  fellows  were 
scandalized  at  Bilney's  language:  was  not  the  preacher 
whose  teaching  he  condemned  duly  ordained  by  the 
bishop?     He  replied:    "What  would  be  the  use  of 


T  Y  N  D  A  L  E. 

being  a  hundred  times  consecrated,  were  it  even  by  a 
thousand  papal  bulls,  if  the  inward  calling  is  wanting? 
To  no  purpose  hath  the  bishop  breathed  on  our  heads, 
if  we  have  never  felt  the  breath  of  the  Holy  Ghost  in 
our  hearts!"  Thus,  at  the  very  beginning  of  the 
Reformation,  England,  rejecting  the  Roman  super- 
stitions, discerned  with  extreme  nicety  what  constitutes 
the  essence  of  consecration  to  the  service  of  the  Lord. 

After  pronouncing  these  noble  words,  Bilney,  who 
longed  for  an  outpouring  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  shut  him- 
self up  in  his  room,  fell  on  his  kuees,  and  called  upon 
God  to  come  to  the  assistance  of  His  Church.  Then 
rising  up,  he  exclaimed,  as  if  animated  by  a  prophetic 
spirit :  "  A  new  time  is  beginning.  The  Christian 
assembly  is  about  to  be  renewed.  .  .  .  Some  one 
is  coming  unto  us;  I  see  Him,  I  hear  Him — it  is  Jesus 
Christ.  ...  He  is  the  king;  and  it  is  He  who 
will  call  the  true  ministers  commissioned  to  evangelize 
His  people." 

Tyndale,  full  of  the  same  hopes  as  Bilney,  left  Cam- 
bridge in  the  course  of  the  year  1519. 

Thus  the  English  Reformation  began  independently 
of  those  of  Luther  and  Zwiugle — deriving  its  origin 
from  God  alone.  In  every  province  of  Christendom 
there  was  a  simultaneous  action  of  the  Divine  Word. 
The  principle  of  the  Reformation  at  Oxford,  Cam- 
bridge, and  London,  was  the  Greek  New  Testament, 
published  by  Erasmus.  England,  in  course  of  time, 
learut  to  be  proud  of  this  origin  of  its  Reformation. 


CHAPTER  in. 

Alarm  of  the  Clergy— The  Two  Days- Thomas  Man's  Preaching— Trae  Real 
Presence— Persecutions  at  Coventry— Standish  Preaches  at  St.  Paul's— 
His  Petition  to  the  King  and  Queen— His  Arguments  and  Defeat— 
Wolsey's  Anihition— First  Overtures— Henry  and  Francis  Candidates 
for  the  Empire— Conference  between  Francis  I.  and  Sii'  T.  Boleyn— The 
Tiara  promised  to  Wolsey— The  Cardinal's  Intrigues  with  Charles  aud 
Fi-ancis. 

This  revival  caused  great  alarm  throughout  the  Roman 
hierarchy.  Content  with  the  baptism  they  adminis- 
tered, they  feared  the  baptism  of  the  Holy  Ghost 
perfected  by  faith  in  the  Word  of  God.  Some  of 
the  clerg)',  who  were  full  of  zeal,  but  of  zeal  with- 
out knowledge,  prepared  for  the  struggle;  aud  the 
cries  raised  by  the  prelates  were  repeated  by  all  the 
inferior  orders. 

The  first  blows  did  not  fall  on  the  members  of  the 
universities,  but  on  those  humble  Christians,  the  relics 
of  Wicklifte's  ministry,  to  whom  the  reform  movement 
among  the  learned  had  imparted  a  new  life.  The 
awakening  of  the  fourteenth  century  was  about  to  be 
succeeded  by  that  of  the  sixteenth,  and  the  last  gleams 
of  the  closing  day  were  almost  lost  in  the  first  rays  of 
that  which  was  commencing.  The  young  doctors  of 
Oxford  and  Cambridge  aroused  the  attention  of  the 
alarmed  hierarchy,  and  attracted  their  eyes  to  the 
humble  Lollards,  who,  here  and  there,  still  recalled 
the  days  of  Wickliffe. 

An  humble  artisan,  named  Thomas  Man,  and 
sometimes  also  called  Doctor  Man,  from  his  know- 


DOORWAY,    KING'S    COLLEGE 


THE  COVENTRY  MARTYRS 


013 


ledge  of  Holy  Scripture,  had  been  imprisoned  for  his 
faith  in  the  priory  of  Fridcswidc  at  Oxford,  (1511 
A.D.)  Tormented  by  the  remembrance  of  a  recantation 
whicli  had  been  extorted  from  him,  he  had  escaped 
from  tliis  monastery,  and  fled  into  tlie  eastern  parts  of 
Eughmd,  where  he  had  preached  the  Word,  supplying 
his  daily  wants  by  the  labour  of  his  hands.  This 
"champion  of  God"  afterwards  drew  near  the  capital, 
and,  assisted  by  his  wife,  the  new  Priscilla  of  this  new 
Aquilla,  he  proclaimed  the  doctrine  of  Christ  to  the 
crowd  collected  around  hira,  in  some  "upper  chamber" 
of  London,  or  in  some  lonely  meadow  watered  by  the 
Thames,  or  under  the  aged  oaks  of  Windsor  Forest. 
He  thought  with  Chrysostom  of  old,  that  "  all  priests 
arc  not  saints,  but  all  saints  are  priests."  "  He  that 
reccivctli  tiie  Word  of  God,"  said  he,  "receivcth  God 
himself,  that  is  the  true  real  jwesence.  The  vendors  of 
masses  are  not  the  high  priests  of  this  mystery;  but  the 
men  whom  God  hatli  anointed  with  His  Spirit  to  be 
kings  and  priests."  From  six  to  seven  hundred  persons 
were  converted  by  his  preaching. 

The  monks,  who  dared  not  as  yet  attack  the  univer- 
sities, resolved  to  fall  upon  those  preachers  who  made 
their  temple  on  the  banks  of  the  Thames,  or  in  some 
remote  corner  of  the  city.  Man  was  seized,  con- 
demned, and  burnt  alive  on  the  29th  March,  1519. 

And  this  was  not  all.  There  lived  at  Coventry  a 
little  band  of  serious  Christians — four  shoemakers,  a 
glover,  a  hosier,  and  a  widow  named  Smith — who  gave 
their  children  a  pious  education.  The  Franciscans 
were  annoyed  that  laymen,  and  even  a  ivoman,  should 
dare  meddle  with  religious  instruction.  On  Ash 
Wednesday  (1519)  Simon  Morton,  the  bishop's  sum- 
ner,  apprehended  them  all,  men,  women,  and  children. 
On  the  following  Friday,  the  parents  were  taken  to 
the  Abbey  of  Mackstock,  about  six  miles  from 
Coventry,  and  the  children  to  the  Grey  Friars'  con- 
vent. "  Let  us  see  what  heresies  you  have  been 
taught?"  said  Friar  Stafford  to  the  intimidated  little 
ones.  The  poor  children  confessed  they  had  been 
taught  in  English  the  Lord's  prayer,  the  Apostles' 
creed,  and  the  ten  commandments.  On  hearing  this, 
Stafford  told  them  angrily:  "I  forbid  you  (unless  you 
wish  to  be  burnt  as  your  parents  will  be)  to  have 
anything  to  do  with  the  Pater,  the  credo,  or  the  ten 
commandments,  in  English. 

Five  weeks  after  this,  the  men  were  condemned  to 
be  burnt  alive ;  but  the  judges  had  compassion  on  the 
widow,  because  of  her  young  family,  (for  she  was  their 
only  support,)  and  let  her  go.  It  was  night :  Morton 
offered  to  see  Darac  Smith  home ;  she  took  his  arm, 
and  they  threaded  the  dark  and  narrow  streets  of 
Coventry.  "  Eh,  ch  ! "  said  the  apparitor,  on  a  sudden, 
"  what  have  we  here  ? "  He  heard,  in  fact,  the  noise 
of  paper  rubbing  against  something.  "  What  have 
you  got  there?"  he  continued,  dropping  her  arm,  and 
putting  his  hand  up  her  sleeve,  from  which  he  drew 
out  a  parchment.  Approaching  a  window  whence 
issued  the  faint  rays  of  a  lamp,  he  examined  the 
mysterious  scroll,  and  found  it  to  contahi  the  Lord's 
prayer,  the  Apostles'  creed,  and  the  ten  command- 
ments, in  English.  "  Oh,  oh !  sirrah  ! "  said  he ; 
"  come  along.  As  good  now  as  another  time ! "  Then 
seizing  the  poor  widow  by  the  arm,  he  dragged  her 


before  the  bishop.  Sentence  of  death  was  immediately 
pronounced  on  her;  and  on  the  4th  of  April,  Dame 
Smith,  Robert  Hatchets,  Archer,  Hawkins,  "Thomas 
Bond,  Wrigshara,  and  Landsdale,  were  burnt  alive  at 
Coventry,  in  the  Little  Park,  for  the  crime  of  teaching 
their  children  the  Lord's  prayer,  the  Apostles'  creed, 
and  the  commandments  of  God. 

But  what  availed  it  to  silence  those  obscure  lips  so 
long  as  the  Testament  of  Erasmus  could  speak  ?  Lee's 
conspiracy  must  be  revived.  Standish,  bishop  of  St. 
Asaph,  was  a  narrow-minded  man,  rather  fanatical, 
but  probably  sincere,  of  great  courage,  and  not  with- 
out some  degree  of  piety.  This  prelate,  being  deter- 
mined to  preach  a  crusade  against  the  Now  Testament, 
began  at  London,  in  St.  Paul's  catiicdral,  before  the 
mayor  and  corporation,  "Away  with  these  new  trans- 
lations," he  said,  "  or  else  the  religion  of  Jesus  Christ 
is  threatened  with  utter  ruin."  But  Standish  was 
deficient  in  tact,  and  instead  of  confining  himself  to 
general  statements,  like  most  of  his  party,  he  endea- 
voured to  shew  how  far  Erasmus  had  corrupted  the 
Gospel,  and  continued  thus  in  a  whining  voice  :  "Must 
I,  who  for  so  many  years  have  been  a  doctor  of  the 
Holy  Scriptures,  and  who  have  always  read  in  my 
Bible :  la  principio  erat  vkrbuii, — must  I  now  be 
obliged  to  read :  In  ^^ri/tcipio  erat  sermo,"  for  thus  had 
Erasmus  translated  the  opening  words  of  St.  John's 
Gospel.  Hisitm  teneatis,  whispered  one  to  another, 
when  they  heard  this  puerile  charge  :  "  My  lord,"  pro- 
ceeded the  bishop,  turning  to  the  mayor,  "magistrates 
of  the  city,  and  citizens  all,  fly  to  the  succour  of  re- 
ligion!" Standish  continued  his  pathetic  appeals,  but 
his  oratory  was  all  in  vain ;  some  stood  unmoved, 
others  shrugged  their  shoulders,  and  others  grew  im- 
patient. The  citizens  of  London  seemed  determined 
to  support  liberty  and  the  Bible. 

Standish,  seeing  the  failin-e  of  his  attack  in  the  city, 
sighed,  and  groaned,  and  prayed,  and  repeated  mass 
against  the  so  much  dreaded  book.  But  he  also  made 
up  his  mind  to  do  more.  One  da}',  during  the  rejoic- 
ings at  court  for  the  betrothal  of  the  Princess  Mary, 
then  two  years  old,  with  a  French  prince  who  was  just 
born,  St.  Asaph,  absorbed  and  absent  in  the  midst  of 
the  gay  crowd,  meditated  a  bold  step.  Suddenly  he 
made  his  way  through  the  crowd,  and  threw  himself 
at  the  feet  of  the  king  and  queen.  All  were  thunder- 
struck, and  asked  one  another  what  the  old  bishop 
could  mean.  "Great  king,"  said  he,  "your  ancestors 
who  have  reigned  over  this  island, — and  yours,  O  great 
queen,  who  have  governed  Arragon,  were  always  dis- 
tinguished by  their  zeal  for  the  church.  Shew  your- 
selves worthy  of  your  forefathers.  Times  full  of  danger 
are  come  upon  us,  a  book  has  just  appeared,  and  been 
published  too,  by  Erasmus!  It  is  such  a  book  that,  if 
you  close  not  your  kingdom  against  it,  it  is  all  over 
with  the  religion  of  Christ  among  us." 

The  bishop  ceased,  and  a  dead  silence  ensued.  The 
devout  Standish,  fearing  lest  Henry's  well-known  love 
of  learning  should  be  an  obstacle  to  his  prayer,  raised 
his  eyes  and  his  hands  toward  heaven,  and  kneeling  in 
the  midst  of  the  courtly  assembly,  exclaimed  in  a 
sorrowful  tone :  "  0  Christ  I  O  Son  of  God  !  save  thy 
spouse !     .     .     .     for  no  man  cometh  to  her  help." 

Having  thus  spoken,  the  prelate,  whose  courage  was 


614 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


worthy  of  a  better  cause,  rose  up  and  -waited.  Every 
one  strove  to  guess  at  the  king's  thoughts.  Sir  Thomas 
More  was  present,  and  he  could  not  forsake  liis  friend 
Erasmus.  "  What  are  the  heresies  this  book  is  likely 
to  engender?"  he  inquired.  After  the  sublime  came 
tlie  ridiculous.  AVith  the  forefinger  of  his  right  hand, 
touching  successively  the  fingers  of  his  left,  Staudish 
replied:  "First,  this  book  destroys  the  resurrection; 
secondly,  it  annuls  the  sacrament  of  marriage ;  thirdly, 
it  abolishes  t/ie  mass."  Then,  uplifting  his  thumb  and 
two  fingers,  he  shewed  them  to  the  assembly  with 
a  look  of  triumph.  The  bigoted  Catherine  shuddered 
as  she  saw  Staudish's  three  fingers — signs  of  the  three 
heresies  of  Erasmus ;  and  Henry  himself,  an  admirer 
of  Aquinas,  was  embarrassed.  It  was  a  critical 
moment:  the  Greek  Testament  was  on  the  point  of 
being  banished  from  England,  "The  proof,  the 
proof,"  exclaimed  the  friends  of  literature.  "  I  will 
give  it,"  rejoined  the  impetuous  Standish,  and  then 
once  more  touchiug  his  left  thumb  :  "  Firstly,"  he  said. 
.  .  .  But  he  brought  forward  such  foolish  reasons, 
tliat  even  the  women  and  the  unlearned  were  ashamed 
of  them.  The  more  he  endeavoured  to  justify  his 
assertions,  the  more  confused  he  became  :  he  aflfirmed, 
among  other  things,  that  the  epistles  of  St.  Paul  were 
written  in  Ilehrev:  "There  is  not  a  schoolboy  that 
does  not  know  that  Paul's  epistles  were  written  in 
Greek,"  said  a  doctor  of  divinity,  kneeling  before  the 
king.  Henry,  blushing  for  the  bishop,  turued  the  con- 
versation, and  Staudish,  ashamed  at  having  made  a 
Greek  write  to  tlie  Greeks  in  Hebrew,  would  have 
withdrawn  unobserved.  "  The  beetle  must  not  attack 
the  eagle,"  was  whispered  in  his  ear.  Thus  did  the 
book  of  God  remain  in  England  the  standard  of  a 
faitliful  band,  who  found  in  its  pages  the  motto,  which 
the  Church  of  Rome  had  usurped :  llie  truth  is  in  me 
alone." 

A  more  formidable  adversary  than  Standish  aspired 
to  combat  the  Reformation,  not  only  in  England,  but 
in  all  the  West.  One  of  those  ambitious  designs, 
which  easily  germinate  in  the  human  heart,  developed 
itself  in  the  soul  of  the  chief  minister  of  Henry  V^III.; 
and  if  this  project  succeeded,  it  promised  to  secure  for 
ever  the  empire  of  the  papacy  on  the  banks  of  the 
Thames,  and  perhaps  in  the  whole  of  Christendom. 

Wolsey,  as  chancellor  and  legate,  governed  both  in 
State  and  in  Church ;  and  could,  without  an  untruth, 
utter  his  famous  Ego  et  rex  mens.  Having  reached  so 
great  a  height,  he  desired  to  soar  still  higher.  The 
favourite  of  Henry  VIII.,  almost  his  master ;  treated 
as  a  brother  by  the  emperor,  by  the  King  of  France, 
and  by  other  crowned  heads ;  invested  with  the  title  of 
majesty,  the  peculiar  property  of  sovereigns,  the  car- 
dinal, sincere  in  his  faith  in  the  popedom,  aspired  to 
fill  the  throne  of  the  pontiffs,  and  thus  become  Deus  in 
terris.  He  thought,  that  if  God  permitted  a  Luther 
to  appear  in  the  world,  it  was  because  he  had  a  Wolsey 
to  oppose  to  him. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  fix  the  precise  moment  when 
this  immoderate  desire  entered  his  mind :  it  was  about 
the  end  of  1.518  that  it  began  to  shew  itself.  The 
Bishop  of  Ely,  ambassador  at  the  court  of  Francis  I., 
being  in  conference  with  that  prince  on  the  18fh  of 
December  in  that  year,  said  to  Lim  mysteriously:  "The 


cardinal  has  an  idea  in  his  mind  ...  on  which  he 
can  unbosom  himself  to  nobody  ,  .  .  except  it  be 
to  your  majesty."     Francis  understood  him. 

An  event  occurred  to  facilitate  the  cardinal's  plans. 
If  Wolsey  desired  to  be  the  first  priest,  Henry  desired 
to  be  the  first  king.  The  imperial  crown,  vacant  by  the 
death  of  Maximilian,  was  sought  by  two  princes:  by 
Charles  of  Austria,  a  cold  and  calculating  man,  caring 
little  about  the  pleasures  and  even  the  pomp  of  power, 
but  forming  great  designs,  and  knowing  how  to  imrsue 
them  with  energy;  and  by  Francis  I.,  a  man  of  less  pene- 
trating glance  aud  less  indefatigable  activity,  but  more 
daring  and  impetuous.  Henry  VIII.,  inferior  to  both, 
passionate,  capricious,  and  selfish,  thought  himself 
strong  enough  to  contend  with  such  puissant  com- 
petitors, and  secretly  strove  to  win  "  the  monarchy 
of  all  Christendom."  Wolsey  flattered  himself  that, 
hidden  under  the  cloak  of  his  master's  ambition,  he 
might  satisfy  his  own.  If  he  procured  the  crown  of 
the  Ca'sars  for  Henry,  he  might  easily  obtain  the  tiara 
of  the  popes  for  himself;  if  he  failed,  the  least  that 
could  be  done  to  compensate  England  for  the  loss  of 
the  empire,  would  be  to  give  the  sovereignty  of  the 
church  to  her  prime  minister. 

Henry  first  sounded  the  King  of  France.  Sir  Thomas 
Boleyn  appeared  one  day  before  Francis  I.  just  as  the 
latter  was  returning  from  mass.  The  king,  desirous  to 
anticipate  a  confidence  that  might  be  embarrassing, 
took  the  ambassador  aside  to  the  window  and  whis- 
pered to  him :  "  Some  of  the  electors  have  offered  me 
the  empire;  I  hope  your  master  will  be  favourable  to 
me."  Sir  Thomas,  in  confusion,  made  some  vague 
reply,  and  the  chivalrous  king,  following  up  his  idea, 
took  the  ambassador  firmly  by  one  hand,  and  laying 
the  other  on  his  breast,  exclaimed :  "  By  my  faith,  if  I 
become  emperor,  in  three  years  I  shall  be  in  Constan- 
tinople, or  I  shall  die  on  the  road!"  This  was  not 
what  Henry  wanted ;  but  dissembling  his  wishes,  he 
took  care  to  inform  Francis  that  he  would  support  his 
candidature.  Upon  hearing  this,  Francis  raised  his  hat 
and  exclaimed  :  "  I  desire  to  see  the  King  of  England ; 
I  will  see  him,  I  tell  you,  even  if  I  go  to  London  with 
only  one  page  and  one  lackey." 

I''rancis  was  well  aware  that  if  he  threatened  the 
king's  ambition,  he  must  flatter  the  minister's ;  and  re- 
collecting the  hint  given  by  the  Bishop  of  Ely,  he  said 
one  day  to  Boleyn  :  "  It  seems  to  mo  that  my  brother 
of  England  and  I  could  do,  indeed  ought  to  do  .  ,  . 
something  for  the  cardinal.  He  was  prepared  by  God 
for  the  good  of  Christendom,  .  .  ,  one  of  the 
greatest  men  in  the  church,  .  .  .  and  on  the  word 
of  a  king,  if  he  consents,  I  will  do  it."  A  few  minutes 
after,  he  continued :  "  Write  and  tell  the  cardinal,  that 
if  he  aspires  to  be  the  head  of  the  Church,  and  if  any- 
thing should  happen  to  the  reigning  pope,  I  will  pro- 
mise him  fourteen  cardinals  on  my  part.  Let  us  only 
act  in  concert,  your  master  and  me,  aud  I  promise  you, 
Mr.  Ambassador,  that  neitlier  pope  nor  emperor  shall 
be  created  in  Europe  without  our  consent." 

But  Henry  did  not  act  in  concert  with  the  King  of 
France.  At  Wolsey's  instigation  he  supported  three 
candidates  at  once  :  at  Paris  he  was  for  Francis  I. ;  at 
Madrid  for  Charles  V. ;  and  at  Frankfort  for  himself. 
The  kings  of  France  and  England  failed;  and  on  the 


THE  CARDINAL'S  PRACTICES. 


G15 


10th  August,  Pace,  Henry's  cuvoy  at  Frankfort,  having 
rctnrnccl  to  Enghind,  desired  to  console  the  king  by 
mentioning  the  sums  of  money  which  Charles  liad 
spent.  "  By  the  mass  ! "  exclaimed  the  king,  congratu- 
lating himself  at  not  having  obtained  the  crown  at  so 
dear  a  rate.  Wolsey  proposed  to  sing  a  Tc  Dcion  in 
St.  Paul's,  and  bonfires  were  lighted  in  the  city. 

The  cardinal's  rejoicings  were  not  misplaced.  Charles 
had  scarcely  ascended  the  imperial  throne,  in  despite  of 
the  King  of  France,  when  these  two  princes  swore 
eternal  hatred  of  each  other,  and  each  was  anxious  to 
win  over  Ilcnry  VIII.  At  one  time  Charles,  under 
the  pretence  of  seeing  his  imclc  and  aunt,  visited 
England ;  at  another,  Francis  had  an  interview  with 
the  king  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Calais.  The  cardinal 
shared  in  the  flattering  attentions  of  the  two  monarchs. 
'•  It  is  easy  for  the  King  of  Spain,  who  has  become  the 
head  of  the  empire,  to  raise  whomsoever  he  pleases  to 
the  supreme  pontificate,"  said  the  young  emperor  to 
him  ;  and  at  these  words  the  ambitions  cardinal  sur- 
rendered himself  to  Maximilian's  successor.  But  ere- 
long Francis  I.  flattered  him  in  his  turn,  and  Wolsey 
replied  also  to  his  advances.  The  King  of  France  gave 
Henry  toviruamcnts  and  banquets  of  Asiatic  luxiu-y; 
and  "Wolsey,  whose  countenance  yet  bore  the  marks  of 
the  graceful  smile  with  which  he  had  taken  leave  of 
Charles,  smiled  also  on  Francis,  and  sang  mass  in  his 
honour.  He  engaged  the  hand  of  the  Princess  Mary 
to  the  dauphin  of  France  and  to  Charles  V.,  leaving 
the  care  of  unravelling  the  matter  to  futurity.  Then, 
proud  of  his  skilful  practices,  he  returned  to  London 
full  of  hope.  By  walking  in  falsehood  he  hoped  to 
attain  the  tiara:  and  if  it  was  yet  too  far  above  him, 
there  were  certain  Gospelkrs  in  England  who  might 
serve  as  a  ladder  to  roach  it.  Murder  might  serve  as 
the  complement  to  fraud. 


CHAPTER  IV 

TjTMlalc— Soilbury  Hall— Sii-  Jolm  nnd  Lady  'Wiilsli— Talilc-Talk— Tlie  Holy 
Sciiptui-es— Tlio  Images— The  Anchor  of  Faith— A  Hoinan  Camp- 
Preaching  of  FaiUi  and  Works— Tyndale  Accused  by  the  Priests— Tliey 
Tear  up  what  he  has  Planted— Tyndale  resolves  to  Translate  the  Bible 
—His  first  Triumph— The  Priests  in  the  Taverns— Tj-ndale  Summoned 
before  the  Chancellor  of  Worcester- Consoled  by  an  aged  Doctor — 
Attacked  by  a  Schoolman— His  Secret  becomes  known— He  leaves 
Sodbury  HaU. 

Whilst  this  ambitious  prelate  was  thinking  of  nothing 
but  his  own  glory  and  that  of  the  Roman  pontificate,  a 
great  desire,  but  of  a  very  different  nature,  was  spring- 
ing up  in  the  heart  of  one  of  the  humble  "gospellers" 
of  England.  If  "Wolsey  had  his  eyes  fixed  on  the 
throne  of  the  popedom  in  order  to  seat  liimself  there, 
Tyndale  thought  of  raising  up  the  true  throne  of  the 
Church  by  re-establishing  the  legitimate  sovereignty  of 
the  Word  of  God.  The  Greek  Testament  of  Erasmus 
had  been  one  step ;  and  it  now  became  necessary  to 
place  before  the  simple  what  the  king  of  the  schools 
had  given  to  the  learned.  This  idea,  which  pursued 
the  young  Oxford  doctor  everywhere,  was  to  be  the 
Blighty  mainspring  of  the  English  Reformation. 


On  the  slope  of  Sodbury  hill  there  stood  a  plain  but 
large  mansion,  commanding  an  extensive  view  over  the 
beautiful  vale  of  the  Severn,  whore  Tyndale  was  born. 
It  was  inhabited  by  a  family  of  gentle  birth  :  vSir  John 
AValsh  had  shone  in  the  tournaments  of  the  court,  and 
by  this  means  conciliated  the  favour  of  his  prince. 
He  kept  open  table  ;  and  gentlemen,  deans,  abbots,  arch- 
deacons, doctors  of  divinity,  and  fat  rectors,  charmed 
by  Sir  John's  cordial  welcome,  and  by  his  good  dinners, 
were  ever  at  his  house.  The  former  brother-at-arms 
of  Henry  VIII.  felt  an  interest  in  the  questions  then 
discussing  throughout  Christendom.  Lady  AV^alsh  her- 
self, a  sensible  and  gcnei'ous  woman,  lost  not  a  word  of 
the  animated  conversation  of  her  guests,  and  discreetly 
tried  to  incline  the  balance  to  the  side  of  truth. 

Tyndale,  after  leaving  Oxford  and  Cambridge,  had 
returned  to  the  home  of  his  fathers.  Sir  John  had 
requested  him  to  educate  his  children,  and  he  had  ac- 
cei)tcd.  "William  was  then  in  the  prime  of  life,  (he  was 
about  thirty-six,)  well  instructed  in  Scripture,  and  full 
of  desire  to  shew  forth  the  light  which  God  had  given 
him.  Opportunities  were  not  wanting.  Seated  at  table 
with  all  the  doctors  welcomed  by  Sir  John,  Tyndale 
entered  into  conversation  with  them.  They  talked  of 
the  learned  men  of  the  day — of  Erasmus  much ;  and 
sometimes  of  Luther,  who  was  beginning  to  astonish 
England.  They  discussed  several  questions  touching 
the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  sundry  points  of  theology. 
Tyndale  expressed  his  convictions  with  admirable  clear- 
ness, supported  them  with  great  learning,  and  kept  his 
ground  against  all  with  unbending  courage.  These 
animated  conversations  iu  the  vale  of  the  Severn  are 
one  of  the  essential  features  of  the  picture  presented 
by  the  Reformation  iu  this  country.  The  historians 
of  antiquity  invented  the  speeches  which  they  have 
put  into  the  mouths  of  their  heroes.  In  our  times, 
history,  without  iuveuting,  should  make  us  acquainted 
with  the  sentiments  of  the  persons  of  whom  it  treats. 
It  is  sufficient  to  read  Tyndale's  works  to  form  some 
idea  of  these  conversations.  It  is  from  his  writings 
that  the  following  discussion  has  been  drawn. 

In  the  dining-room  of  the  old  hall  a  varied  group 
was  assembled  round  the  hospitable  table.  There  were 
Sir  John  and  Lady  "Walsh,  a  few  gentlemen  of  the 
neighbourhood,  with  several  abbots,  deans,  monks,  and 
doctors,  in  their  respective  costumes.  Tyndale  occu- 
pied the  humblest  place,  and  generally  kept  Erasmus's 
New  Testament  within  reach,  iu  order  to  prove  what 
he  advanced.  Numerous  domestics  were  moviug  about 
engaged  in  waiting  on  the  guests ;  and  at  length  the 
conversation,  after  wandering  a  little,  took  a  more 
precise  direction.  The  priests  grew  impatient  when 
they  saw  the  terrible  volume  appear.  "  Your  Scrip- 
tures only  serve  to  make  heretics,"  they  exclaimed.— 
"  On  the  contrary,"  replied  Tyndale,  "  the  source  of 
all  heresies  is  prick;  now  the  AVord  of  God  strips 
man  of  everything,  and  leaves  him  as  bare  as  Job."— 
"  T/ie  Word  of  God !  why,  even  xve  don't  understand 
your  "Word,  how  can  the  viilr/ar  understand  it?"— 
"  You  do  not  understand  it,"  rejoined  Tyndale,  "  be- 
cause you  look  into  it  only  for  foolish  questions,  as  you 
would  into  our  Ladi/'s  Motiii.^,  or  Merlin's  Prophecies. 
Now,  the  Scriptures  are  a  clue  which  we  must  follow, 
without  turning  aside,  until  we  arrive  at  Christ ;  for 


616 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


Christ  is  the  end." — "And  I  tell  you,"  shouted  out  a 
priest,  "  that  the  Scriptures  are  a  Dajdalian  labyrinth, 
rather  than  Ariadne's  clue — a  conjuring  book  wherein 
everybody    finds   what   he   wants." — "Alas!"    replied 
Tyndale;  "you  read  them  without  Jesus  Christ;  that's 
why  they  are  an  obscure  book  to  you.     What  do  I  say? 
a  den  of  thorns  where  you  only  escape  from  the  briers 
to   be  caught   by  the   brambles." — "No!"   exclaimed 
I     another  clerk,  heedless  of  contradicting  his  colleague, 
!      "  nothing  is  obscure  to  us ;  it  is  we  who  give  the  Scrip- 
•     tures,  and  we  who  explain  them  to  you." — "  You  would 
[     lose  both  your  time  and  your  trouble,"  said  Tyndale ; 
"do  you  know  who  taught  the  eagles  to  find  their 
prey?     Well,  that  same  God  teaches  His  hungry  chil- 
dren to  find  their  Father  in  His  Word.    Far  from  hav- 
ing given  us  the  Scriptures,  it  is  you  who  have  hidden 
them  from  us ;  it  is  you  who  burn  those  who  teach 
them ;  and  if  you  could,  you  would  burn  the  Scriptures 
themselves." 

Tyndale  was  not  satisfied  with  merely  laying  down 
the  great  principles  of  faith  :  he  always  sought  after 
what  he  calls  "the  sweet  marrow  within;"  but  to  the 
Divine  unction  he  added  no  little  humour,  and  un- 
mercifully ridiculed  the  superstitions  of  his  adversaries. 
"  You  set  candles  before  images,"  he  said  to  them ; 
i  "and  since  you  give  them  !/ff/it,  why  don't  you  give 
ihemfood?  Why  don't  you  make  their  bellies  hollow, 
and  put  victuals  and  drink  inside  ?  To  serve  God  by 
such  mummeries  is  treating  Him  like  a  spoilt  child, 
whom  you  pacify  with  a  toy,  or  with  a  horse  made  of 
a  stick." 

But  the  learned  Christian  soon  returned  to  more 
serious  thoughts ;  and  when  his  adversaries  extolled 
the  papacy  as  the  power  that  would  save  the  Church 
in  the  tempest,  he  replied:  "Let  us  only  take  on  board 
the  anchor  of  faith,  after  having  dipped  it  in  the  blood 
of  Christ,  and  when  the  storm  bursts  upon  us,  let  us 
\  boldly  cast  the  anchor  into  the  sea;  then  you  may  be 
j  sure  the  ship  will  remain  safe  on  the  great  waters." 
And,  in  fine,  if  his  opponents  rejected  any  doctrine  of 
the  truth,  Tyndale,  (says  the  chronicler,)  opening  his 
Testament,  would  set  his  finger  on  the  verse  which 
refuted  the  Eomish  error,  and  exclaim:  "Look  and 
read." 

The  beginnings  of  the  English  Reformation  arc  not 
to  be  found,  as  we  have  seen,  in  a  material  ecclesias- 
ticism,  which  has  been  decorated  with  the  name  of 
I  English  Catholicism :  they  are  essentially  spiritual.  The 
Divine  Word,  the  creator  of  the  new  life  in  the  indivi- 
dual, is  also  the  founder  and  reformer  of  the  Church. 
The  reformed  churches,  and  particularly  the  reformed 
churches  of  Great  Britain,  belong  to  evangelism. 

The  contemplation  of  God's  works  refreshed  Tyndale 

after  the  discussions  he  had  to  maintain  at  his  patron's 

table.     He  would  often  ramble  to  the  top  of  Sodbury 

hill,  and  there  repose  amidst  the  ruins  of  an  ancient 

Eoman  camp  which  crowned  the  summit.    It  was  here 

that  Queen  Margaret  of  Anjou  halted ;  and  here,  too, 

rested  Edward  IV.,  ^vho  pursued  her,  before  the  fatal 

I     battle  of  Tewkesbury,  which  caused  this  princess  to 

I     fall  into  the  hands  of  the  White  Kose.     Amidst  these 

j     ruins,  monuments  of  t!ie  Romau  invasion  and  of  the 

I     civil  dissensions  of  England,  Tyndale  meditated  upon 

j     other  battles,  which  were  to  restore  liberty  and  truth 


to  Christendom.  Then  rousing  himself,  he  would 
descend  the  hill,  and  courageously  resume  his  task. 

Behind  the  mansion  stood  a  little  church,  over- 
shadowed by  two  large  yew  trees,  and  dedicated  to 
St.  Adeline.  On  Sundays  Tyndale  used  to  preach 
there.  Sir  John  and  Lady  Walsh,  with  the  eldest  of 
the  children,  occupying  the  manorial  pew.  This 
humble  sanctuary  was  filled  by  their  household  and 
tenantry,  listening  attentively  to  the  words  of  their 
teacher,  which  fell  from  his  lips  like  the  ivaters  of 
Shiloah  that  go  softhi.  Tyndale  was  very  lively  in  con- 
versation ;  but  he  explained  the  Scriptures  with  so 
much  unction,  says  the  chronicler,  "  that  his  hearers 
thought  they  heard  St.  John  himself."  If  he  re- 
sembled John  in  the  mildness  of  his  language,  he 
resembled  Paul  in  the  strength  of  his  doctrine.  "  Ac- 
cording to  the  pope,"  he  said,  "  we  must  first  be  good 
after  his  doctrine,  and  compel  God  to  be  good  again 
for  our  goodness.  Nay,  verily,  God's  goodness  is  the 
root  of  all  goodness.  Antichrist  turneth  the  tree  of 
salvation  topsy-turvy;  he  planteth  the  branches,  and 
setteth  the  roots  upwards.  We  must  put  it  straight. 
.  .  .  .  As  the  husband  marrieth  the  wife  before 
he  can  have  any  lawful  children  by  her,  even  so  faith 
justifieth  us  to  make  us  fruitful  in  good  works.  But 
neither  the  one  nor  the  other  should  remain  barren. 
Faith  is  the  only  candle  wherewith  we  must  bless 
ourselves  at  the  last  hour;  without  it,  you  will  go 
astray  in  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,  though 
you  had  a  thousand  tapers  lighted  around  your  bed." 

The  priests,  irritated  at  such  observations,  deter- 
mined to  ruin  Tyndale;  and  some  of  them  invited 
Sir  John  and  his  lady  to  an  entertainment,  at  which 
he  was  not  present.  During  dinner,  they  so  abused 
the  young  doctor  and  his  New  Testament,  that  his 
patrons  retired,  greatly  annoyed  that  their  tutor  should 
have  made  so  many  enemies.  They  told  him  all  they 
had  heard,  and  Tyndale  successfully  refuted  his 
adversaries'  arguments.  "  What !"  exclaimed  Lady 
Walsh,  "  there  are  some  of  these  doctors  worth  one 
hundred,  some  two  hundred,  and  some  three  hundred 
pounds,  ....  and  were  it  reason,  think  you, 
Master  William,  that  we  should  believe  you  before 
them?"  Tyndale,  opening  the  New  Testament,  re- 
plied :  "  No !  it  is  not  me  you  should  believe.  That 
is  what  the  priests  have  told  you;  but  look  here, 
St.  Peter,  St.  Paul,  and  the  Lord  himself  say  quite 
the  contrary."  The  AYord  of  God  was  there,  positive 
and  supreme :  the  sword  of  the  Spirit  cut  the  difficulty. 

Before  long  the  manor  house  and  St.  Adeline's 
church  became  too  narrow  for  Tyndale's  zeal.  He 
preached  every  Sunday,  sometimes  in  a  village,  some- 
times in  a  town.  The  inhabitants  of  Bristol  assembled 
to  hear  him  in  a  large  meadow,  c:.lled  St.  Austin's 
Green.  But  no  sooner  had  he  preached  in  any  place 
than  the  priests  hastened  thither,  tore  up  what  he  had 
planted,  called  him  a  heretic,  and  threatened  to  expel 
from  the  church  every  one  who  dared  listen  to  him. 
When  Tyndale  returned,  he  found  the  field  laid  waste 
by  the  enemy;  and,  looking  sadly  upon  it,  as  the 
husbandman  who  sees  his  corn  beaten  down  by  the 
hail,  and  his  rich  furrows  turned  into  a  barren  waste, 
he  exclaimed:  "What  is  to  be  done?  While  I  am 
sowing  in  one  place,  the  enemy  ravages  the  field  I 


TYNDALE  CITED  BEFORE  THE  CHANCELLOR. 


617 


have  just  left.  I  cannot  be  everywhere.  Oh !  if 
Christians  possessed  the  Holy  Scriptures  in  their  own 
tongue,  they  could  of  themselves  withstand  these 
sophists.  '\Vithout  the  Bible,  it  is  impossible  to 
establish  the  laity  in  the  truth." 

Then  a  great  idea  sprang  up  in  Tyndalc's  heart. 
"It  was  in  the  language  of  Israel,"  said  he,  "that  the 
Psalms  were  sung  in  the  temple  of  Jehovah ;  and 
shall  not  the  Gospel  speak  the  language  of  England 
among  us  ?  .  .  .  .  Ought  the  Church  to  have 
less  light  at  noonday  than  at  the  dawn .'  .  .  . 
Christians  must  read  the  New  Testament  in  their 
mother-tongue."  Tyndale  believed  that  this  idea  pro- 
ceeded from  God.  The  new  sun  would  lead  to  the 
discovery  of  a  new  world;  and  the  infallible  rule  would 
make  all  human  diversities  give  way  to  a  Divine  unity 
"  One  holdcth  this  doctor,  another  that,"  said  Tyndale; 
'■one  foUoweth  Duns  Scotus,  another  St.  Thomas, 
another  Bonaveuture,  Alexander  Hales,  Raymoud  of 
Penaford,  Lyra,   Gorram,   Hugh  de  Sancto  Victore, 

and  so  many  others  besides Now,  each 

of  these  authors  contradicts  the  other.  How,  then, 
can  we  distinguish  him  who  says  right  from  him  who 
says  wrong?  ....  How?  ....  Verily, 
by  God's  Word."  Tyndale  hesitated  no  longer.  , 
AVhile  Wolsey  sought  to  win  the  papal  tiara,  the 
humble  tutor  of  Sodbury  undertook  to  place  the  torch 
of  heaven  in  the  midst  of  his  fellow-countrymen.  The 
translation  of  the  Bible  shall  be  the  work  of  his  life. 

The  first  triumph  of  the  AYord  was  a  revolution  in 
the  manor-house.  In  proportion  as  Sir  John  and 
Lady  Walsh  acquired  a  taste  for  the  Gospel,  they 
became  disgusted  with  the  priests.  The  clergy  were 
not  so  often  invited  to  Sodbury,  nor  did  they  meet 
with  the  same  welcome.  They  soon  discontinued  their 
visits,  and  thought  of  nothing  but  how  they  could 
drive  Tyndale  from  the  mansion  and  from  the  diocese. 

Unwilling  to  compromise  themselves  in  this  warfare, 
they  sent  forward  some  of  those  light  troo])S  which 
the  church  has  always  at  her  disposal.  JNIendicant 
friars  and  poor  curates,  who  could  hardly  understand 
their  missal,  and  the  most  learned  of  whom  made 
Albertus  de  sccretis  mulicrum  their  habitual  study,  fell 
upon  Tyndale  like  a  pack  of  hungry  hounds.  _  They 
trooped  to  the  alehouses ;  and,  calling  for  a  jug  of 
beer,  took  their  seats,  one  at  one  table,  another  at 
another.  They  invited  the  peasantry  to  drink  with 
them;  and,  entering  into  conversation  with  them, 
poured  forth  a  thousand  curses  upon  the  daring  re- 
former; "He's  a  hypocrite,"  said  one;  "he's  a  heretic," 
said  another.  The  most  skilful  among  them  would 
mount  upon  a  stool,  and,  turning  the  tavern  into  a 
temple,  deliver,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  an  ex- 
temporaneous discourse.  They  reported  words  that 
Tyndale  had  never  uttered,  and  actions  that  he  had 
never  committed.  Ru-shing  upon  the  poor  tutor  (he 
himself  informs  us)  "like  unclean  swine  that  follow 
their  carnal  lusts,"  they  tore  his  good  name  to  very 
tatters,  and  shared  the  spoil  among  them;  while  the 
audience,  excited  by  their  calumnies,  and  heated  by 
tho  beer,  departed  overflowing  with  rage  and  hatred 
against  the  heretic  of  Sodbury. 

After  the  monks  came  the  dignitaries.  The  deans 
and  abbots,  Sir  John's  former  guests,  accused  Tyndale 


to  the  chancellor  of  tho  diocese;  and  the  storm  which 
had  begun  in  the  tavern  burst  forth  in  the  episcopal 
palace. 

The  titular  bishop  of  Worcester  (an  appanage  of  the 
Italian  prelates)  was  Giulio  de  Medici,  a  learned  man, 
great  politician,  and  crafty  priest,  who  already  governed 
the  popedom  without  being  pope.  Wolsey,  who  ad- 
ministered the  diocese  for  his  absent  colleague,  had 
appointed  Thomas  Parker  chancellor,  a  man  devoted  to 
the  Roman  Church.  It  was  to  him  the  churchmen 
made  their  complaint.  A  judicial  inquiiy  had  its 
dilliculties ;  the  king's  compauion-at-arms  was  the 
patron  of  the  pretended  heretic ;  and  Sir  Anthony 
Poyntz,  Lady  "\Valsh'.s  brother,  was  sheriff  of  the 
county.  The  chancellor  was  therefore  content  to  con- 
voke a  general  conference  of  the  clergy.  Tyndale 
obeyed  the  summons,  but  foreseeing  what  awaited  him, 
he  cried  heartily  to  God,  as  he  pursued  his  way  up  the 
banks  of  the  Severn,  "  to  give  him  strength  to  stand 
fast  in  the  truth  of  His  Word." 

When  they  were  assembled,  the  abbots  and  deans, 
and  other  ecclesiastics  of  the  diocese,  with  haughty 
lieads  and  threatening  looks,  crowded  round  the  humble 
but  unbending  Tyndale.  AVhen  his  turn  arrived,  he 
stood  forward,  and  the  chancellor  administered  him  a 
severe  reprimand,  to  which  he  made  a  calm  reply. 
This  so  exasperated  the  chancellor,  that,  giving  way  to 
his  passion,  he  treated  Tyndale  as  if  he  had  been  a  dog. 
"  AVhere  are  your  witnesses?"  demanded  the  latter. 
"  Let  them  come  forward  and  I  will  answer  them." 
Not  one  of  them  dared  support  the  charge — they  looked 
another  way.  The  chancellor  waited,  one  witness  at 
least  he  must  have,  but  he  could  not  got  that.  An- 
noyed at  this  desertion  of  the  priests,  tlie  representa- 
tive of  the  Medici  became  more  equitable,  and  let  the 
accusation  drop.  Tyndale  quietly  returned  to  Sod- 
bur}',  blessing  God  who  had  saved  him  from  the  cruel 
hands  of  his  adversaries,  and  entertaining  nothing  but 
the  tenderest  charity  towards  them.  "  Take  away  my 
goods,"  he  said  to  them  one  day;  "  take  away  my  good 
name !  yet  so  long  as  Christ  dwelleth  in  my  heart, 
so  long  shall  I  love  you  not  a  whit  the  less."  Here, 
indeed,  is  the  St.  John  to  whom  Tyndale  has  been 
compared. 

In  this  violent  warfare,  however,  he  could  not  fail 
to  receive  some  heavy  blows ;  and  where  could  he  find 
consolation  ?  Fryth  and  Bilney  were  far  from  him. 
Tyndale  recollected  an  aged  ductor  who  lived  near  Sod- 
bury, and  who  had  shewn  him  great  affection.  He 
went  to  see  him,  and  opened  his  heart  to  him.  The 
old  man  looked  at  him  for  awhile,  as  if  he  hesitated  to 
disclose  some  great  mystery.  "  Do  you  not  know," 
said  he,  lowering  his  voice,  "  that  the  pnpe  is  very  Anti- 
christ whom  the  Scripture  speaketh  of  /  .  .  .  But 
beware  what  you  say.  .  .  .  That  knowledge  may 
cost  you  your  life."  This  doctrine  of  Antichrist,  which 
Luther  was  at  that  moment  enunciating  so  boldly, 
struck  Tyndale.  Strengthened  by  it,  as  was  the  Saxon 
reformer,  he  felt  fresh  energy  in  his  heart ;  and  the 
aged  doctor  was  to  him  what  the  aged  friar  had  been 
to  Luther. 

When  the  priests  saw  that  their  plot  had  failed, 
they  commissioned  a  celebrated  divine  to  undertake  his 
conversion.     The  reformer  replied  with  Lis   Greek 


HISTOEY  OP  THE  REFORMATION. 


Testament  to  the  schoolman's  arguments.  The  theolo- 
gian was  speechless:  at  last  he  exclaimed:  "Well,  then, 
it  were  better  to  be  without  God's  laws  than  the  pope's." 
Tyndale,  who  did  not  expect  so  plain  and  blasphemous 
a  confession,  made  answer :  "  And  I  defy  the  pope 
and  all  his  laws !  " — and  then,  as  if  unable  to  keep  his 
secret,  he  added:  "If  God  spares  my  life,  I  will  take 
care  that  a  ploughboy  shall  know  more  of  the  Scrip- 
tures than  you  do." 

All  his  thoughts  were  now  directed  to  the  means  of 
carrying  out  his  plans ;  and  desirous  of  avoiding  con- 
versations that  might  compromise  them,  he  thenceforth 
passed  the  greater  portion  of  his  time  in  the  library.' 
He  prayed,  he  read,  he  began  his  translation  of  the 
Bible,  and  in  all  probability  communicated  portions  of 
it  to  Sir  John  and  Lady  Walsh. 

All  his  precautions  were  useless ;  the  scholastic 
divine  had  betrayed  him ;  and  the  priests  had  sworn  to 
stop  him  in  his  translation  of  the  Bible.  One  day  he 
fell  in  with  a  troop  of  monks  and  curates,  who  abused 
him  in  the  grossest  manner.  "  It's  the  favour  of  the 
gentry  of  the  country  that  makes  you  so  proud,"  said 
they;  "but  notwithstanding  your  patrons,  there  will 
be  a  talk  about  you  before  long,  and  iu  a  pretty 
fashion  too !  .  .  .  You  shall  not  always  live  in  a 
mauor-house!" — "Banish  me  to  the  obscurest  corner 
of  England,"  replied  Tyndale ;  "  provided  you  will 
permit  me  to  teach  children  and  preach  the  Gospel, 
and  give  me  ten  pounds  a-year  for  my  support,  .  •  . 
I  shall  be  satisfied!"  The  pi-iests  left  him,  but  with 
the  iutention  of  preparing  him  a  very  different  fate. 

Tyndale  indulged  iu  his  pleasant  dreams  no  longer. 
He  saw  that  he  was  on  the  poiut  of  being  arrested, 
condemned,  and  interrupted  iu  his  great  work.  He 
must  seek  a  retreat  where  he  can  discharge  in  peace 
the  task  God  has  allotted  him.  "You  cannot  save  me 
from  the  hands  of  the  priests,"  said  he  to  Sir  John, 
"  and  God  knows  to  what  troubles  you  would  expose 
yourself  by  keeping  me  iu  your  family.  Permit  me  to 
leave  you."  Having  said  this,  he  gathered  up  his 
papers,  took  his  Testament,  pressed  the  hands  of  his 
benefactors,  kissed  the  children,  and  then  descending 
the  hill,  bade  farewell  to  the  smiling  banks  of  the 
Severn,  and  departed  alone — alone  with  his  faith. 
What  shall  he  do?  What  will  become  of  him? 
Where  shall  he  go?  He  went  forth  like  Abraham, 
one  thing  alone  engrossing  his  mind:  the  Scriptures 
shall  be  translated  into  the  vulgar  tongue,  and  he  will 
deposit  the  oracles  of  God  in  the  midst  of  his  country- 


CHAPTER  V. 

Luther's  'Wnrlis  in  EiiglanJ— Consultation  of  the  Bisliops— The  Bull  of  Leo 
X.  iiublished  in  England— Luther's  books  burnt— Letter  of  Henry  VIIL 
—He  nndci-takes  to  write  against  Luther— Cry  of  Alarm— Tradition  and 
Sacrainentalism— Prudence  of  Sir  T.  More— The  Boole  presented  to  the 
Tojie— Defender  of  the  Fai't/i- Exultation  of  the  King. 

'\yHiLST  a  plain  minister  was  commencing  the  Reforma- 
tion in  a  tranquil  valley  in  the  west  of  England,  power- 

'  Tliis  part  of  the  house  was  standing  in  1839,  but  has  since  been  pulled 
down.— ^nrfcrsoii,  Bible  Annals,  i,  p.  3".  We  cannot  but  unite  in  the  wisli 
expressed  in  that  volume,  tliat  the  remainder  of  the  building,  now  tenanted 
by  a  farmer,  may  be  carefiUly  preserved 


ful  reinforcements  were  landing  on  the  shores  of  Kent. 
The  writings  and  actions  of  Luther  excited  a  lively 
sensation  in  Great  Britain.  His  appearance  before  the 
Diet  of  Worms  was  a  common  subject  of  conversation. 
Ships  from  the  harbours  of  the  Low  Countries  brought 
his  books  to  Loudon ;  aud  the  German  printers  had 
made  answer  to  the  nuncio  Aleauder,  who  was  pro- 
hibiting the  Lutheran  works  in  the  empire:  "Verywell! 
we  shall  send  them  to  Eiujlundr  One  might  almost 
say  that  England  was  destined  to  be  the  asylum  of 
truth.  And  in  fact,  the  Theses  of  1517,  the  "  Explana- 
tion of  the  Lord's  Prayer,"  the  books  ar)ainst  Einse.r, 
against  the  Papacy  of  Rome,  ajainst  the  hull  of  Antichrist^ 
the  "Epistle  to  the  Galatiaus,"  the  "Appeal  to  the 
German  Nobility,"  aud  above  all,  the  "Babylonish. 
Captivity  of  the  Church," — all  crossed  the  sea,  were 
translated,  and  circulated  throughout  the  kiugdom. 
The  German  and  English  nations,  having  <i  commoa 
origin,  and  being  sufficiently  alike  at  that  time  in  cha- 
racter and  civilization,  the  works  intended  for  one 
might  be  read  by  the  other  with  advantage.  The 
monk  in  his  cell,  the  countiy  gentleman  in  his  hall,  the 
doctor  in  his  college,  the  tradesman  in  his  shop,  and 
even  the  bishop  iu  his  palace,  studied  these  extraor- 
dinary writings.  The  laity  in  particular,  who  had 
been  prepared  by  Wickliffe,  and  disgusted  by  the 
avarice  and  disorderly  lives  of  the  priests,  read  with 
enthusiasm  the  eloquent  pages  of  the  Saxon  monk. 
They  strengthened  all  hearts. 

The  papacy  was  not  inactive  in  presence  of  all  these 
efforts.  The  times  of  Gregory  VII.,  and  of  Innocent 
III.,  it  is  true,  were  passed ;  and  weakness  and  irresolu- 
tion had  succeeded  to  the  former  energy  and  activity 
of  the  Roman  pontificate.  The  spiritual  power  had 
resigned  the  dominion  of  Europe  to  the  secular  powers, 
aud  it  was  doubtful  whether  faith  in  the  papacy  could 
be  found  in  the  papacy  itself.  Y'"et  a  German,  (Dr. 
Eck,)  by  the  most  indefatigable  exertions,  had  extorted 
a  bull  from  the  profane  Leo  X.,  and  this  bull  had  just 
reached  England.  The  pope  himself  sent  it  to  Henry, 
calling  upon  him  to  extirpate  the  Lutheran  heresy. 
The  king  handed  it  to  Wolsey,  and  the  latter  trans- 
mitted it  to  the  bishops,  who,  after  reading  the  heretics 
books,  met  together  to  discuss  the  matter.  There  was 
more  Romish  faith  in  London  than  in  the  Vatican. 
"  This  false  friar,"  exclaimed  Wolsey,  "  attacks  sub- 
mission to  the  clergy — that  fountain  of  all  virtues." 
The  humanist  prelates  were  the  most  auno3-ed ;  the 
road  thsy  had  taken  ended  in  an  abyss,  and  they  shrank 
back  in  alarm.  Tonstall,  the  friend  of  Erasmus,  after- 
wards bishop  of  London,  and  who  had  just  returned 
from  his  embassy  to  Germany,  where  Luther  had  been 
painted  to  him  in  the  darkest  colours,  was  particularly 
violent:  "This  monk  is  a  Proteus.  ...  I  mean 
an  atheist.  If  you  allow  the  heresies  to  grow  up  which 
he  is  scattering  with  both  hands,  they  will  choke  the 
faith,  and  the  church  will  perish.  Had  we  not  enough 
of  the  Wicklitfites — here  are  new  legions  of  the  same 
kind  1  .  .  .  To-day  Luther  calls  for  the  abolition 
of  the  mass;  to-morrow  he  will  ask  "for  the  abolition 
of  Jesus  Christ.  He  rejects  everything,  and  puts 
nothing  in  its  place.  What?  if  barbarians  plunder 
our  froutiers,  we  punish  them  ;  .  .  .  and  shall  we 
bear  with  heretics  Vfho  plunder  our  altai-s?     .     .    . 


PUBLICATION  OF  THE  PAPAL  BULL. 


No!  by  the  mortal  aiony  that  Christ  endured,  I 
entreat  j-ou.  .  .  .  What  am  I  saying?  the  whole 
church  conjures  you  to  combat  against  this  devouring 
draijon,  ...  to  punish  this  /icll-do/),  to  silence  his 
sinister  bowlings,  and  to  drive  him  shamefully  back 
into  his  den."  Thus  spoke  the  eloquent  Toustall ;  nor 
was  AVolsey  far  behind  him.  The  only  attachment 
at  all  respectable  in  this  man  was  that  which  he  entcr- 
tamed  for  the  church;  it  may  perhaps  be  called  respect- 
able, for  it  was  tlic  only  one  that  did  not  exclusively 
regard  himself.  On  the  14th  May,  1521,  this  Euglisli 
pope,  in  imitation  of  the  Italian  pope,  issued  his  bull 
against  Luther. 

It  was  read  (probably  on  the  first  Sunday  in  June) 
in  all  the  churches  during  high  mass,  when  the  con- 
gregation was  most  numerous.  A  priest  exclaimed : 
"For  every  book  of  Martin  Luther's  found  in  your 
possession  witliin  fifteen  daj-s  after  this  injunction,  you 
will  incur  the  gi-catcr  excommunication."  Then  a 
public  notary,  holding  tlie  pope's  bull  in  his  hand,  with 
a  description  of  Lutlier's  pr-rvcn<e  opiniuiis,  proceeded 
towards  the  principal  door  of  the  church,  and  fastened 
up  the  document.  The  people  gathered  round  it ;  the 
most  competent  person  read  it  aloud,  while  the  rest 
listened ;  and  the  following  are  some  of  tlie  sentences 
which,  by  the  pope's  order,  resounded  in  the  porches 
of  all  the  cathedral,  conventual,  collegiate,  and  parish 
churches  of  every  county  in  England : — 

"11.  Sins  are  not  pardoned  to  any,  unless,  the  priest 
remitting  them,  he  believe  they  are  remitted  to  him. 

"  13.  If  by  reason  of  some  impossibility  the  contrite 
be  not  confessed,  or  the  priest  absolve  him,  not  in 
earnest,  but  in  jest ;  yet  if  he  believe  that  he  is  ab- 
solved, he  is  most  truly  absolved. 

"  14.  In  the  sacrament  of  penance  and  the  remission 
of  a  fault,  the  pope  or  bishop  doth  not  more  than  the 
lowest  priest ;  yea,  where  there  is  not  a  priest,  then 
any  Christian  will  do ;  yea,  if  it  were  a  woman  or  a 
child. 

'•  26.  The  pope,  the  successor  of  Peter,  is  not  Christ's 
vicar. 

"  28.  It  is  not  at  all  in  the  hand  of  the  church  or  the 
pope  to  decree  articles  of  faith,  no,  nor  to  decree  the 
laws  of  manners  or  of  good  works." 

The  cardinal  legate,  accompanied  by  the  nuncio,  by 
the  ambassador  of  Charles  V.,  and  by  several  bishops, 
proceeded  in  great  pomp  to  St.  Paul's,  where  the 
Bishop  of  Eochcster  preached,  and  "Wolsey  burnt 
Luther's  books.  But  they  w-ere  hardly  reduced  to 
ashes  before  sarcasms  and  jests  were  heard  in  every 
direction,  "i^/re  is  not  a  theological  argument,"  said 
one.  "The  papists,  who  accuse  Martin  Luther  of 
slaying  and  miu-dering  Christians,"  added  another, 
"  are  like  the  pickpocket,  who  began  to  cry  stop  thiej\ 
as  soon  as  lie  saw  liimself  in  danger  of  being  caught." 
"The  Bishop  of  Rochester,"  said  a  third,  "concludes, 
that  because  Lutlier  has  thrown  the  pope's  decretals 
into  the  £u-e,  he  would  throw  in  the  pope  himself. 
.  .  .  We  may  hence  deduce  another  syllogism,  quite 
as  sound :  The  popes  have  burnt  the  New  Testament, 
therefore,  if  they  could,  they  would  burn  Christ  him- 
self."    These  jests  were  rapidly  circulated  from  mouth 


to  mouth.  It  was  not  enough  that  Luther's  writings 
were  in  England,  thoy  must  needs  be  known ;  and  the 
priests  took  upon  themselves  to  advertise  them.  The 
Reformation  was  advancing,  and  Rome  herself  pushed 
behind  the  car. 

The  cardinal  saw  that  something  more  was  required 
than  these  paper  autos-da-fi,  and  the  activity  he 
displayed  may  indicate  what  he  would  have  done 
in  Europe,  if  ever  he  had  reached  the  pontifical 
chair.  "The  spirit  of  Satan  left  him  no  repose,"  says 
the  papist  Sanders.  Some  action  out  of  tlie  ordin- 
ary course  is  needful,  thought  AVolsey.  Kings  have 
hitlierto  been  the  enemies  of  the  popes :  a  king  shall 
now  undertake  their  defence.  Princes  are  not  very 
anxious  about  learning;  a  prince  shall  publish  a  book  ! 
.  .  .  "  Sire,"  said  he  to  the  king,  to  get  Henry  in 
the  vein,  "you  ought  to  write  to  the  princes  of  Ger- 
many on  the  subject  of  tliis  heresy."  He  did  so. 
Writing  to  the  Archduke  Palatine,  he  said:  "This 
fire,  which  has  been  kindled  by  Luther,  and  fanned  by 
the  arts  of  the  devil,  is  raging  everywhere.  If  Luther 
docs  not  repent,  deliver  him  and  his  audacious  treatises 
to  the  flames.  I  offer  you  my  royal  co-operation,  and 
even,  if  necessary,  my  life."  This  was  the  first  time 
Henry  shewed  that  cruel  thirst  which  was,  in  after 
days,  to  be  quenched  in  the  blood  of  his  wives  and 
friends. 

The  king  having  taken  the  first  step,  it  was  not 
diificult  for  Wolsey  to  induce  him  to  take  another.  To 
defend  the  honour  of  Thomas  Aquinas,  to  stand  for- 
ward as  the  champion  of  the  church,  and  to  obtain 
from  the  pope  a  title  equivalent  to  that  of  CliviManis- 
siwtis,  most  Christian  king,  were  more  than  sufiicient 
motives  to  induce  Henry  to  break  a  lance  with  Luther. 
"  I  will  combat  with  the  pen  this  Cerberus,  sprung 
from  the  depths  of  hell,"  said  he ;  "  and  if  he  refuses 
to  retract,  the  fire  shall  consume  the  heretic  and  his 
heresies  together." 

The  king  shut  himself  up  in  his  library:  all  the 
scholastic  tastes  with  which  his  youth  had  been  imbued 
were  revived ;  he  worked  as  if  he  wore  archbishop  of 
Canterbury,  and  not  king  of  England ;  with  the  pope's 
permission  he  read  Luther's  writings ;  he  ransacked 
Thomas  Aquinas ;  forged,  with  infinite  labour,  the 
arrows  with  which  he  hoped  to  pierce  the  heretic ; 
calU  il  several  learned  men  to  his  aid ;  and  at  last  pub- 
lished liis  book.  His  first  words  were  a  ciy  of  alarm. 
"  Beware  of  the  track  of  this  sei-pent,"  said  he  to  his 
Christian  readers;  "walk  on  tiptoe;  fear  the  thickets 
and  caves  in  which  he  lies  concealed,  and  whence  ho 
will  dart  his  poison  on  you.  If  he  licks  you,  be  care- 
ful !  the  cvmning  viper  caresses  only  that  he  may  bite ! " 
After  that  Henry  sounded  a  charge:  "Be  of  good 
cheer !  Filled  with  the  same  valom-  that  you  would 
display  against  Tiu-ks,  Saracens,  and  other  infidels, 
march  now  against  this  little  friar, — a  fellow  ap- 
parently weak,  but  more  formidable  through  the  spirit 
that  animates  him,  than  all  infidels,  Saracens,  and  Turks 
put  together."  Thus  did  Ilcniy  VIII.,  the  Feter  the 
Hermit  of  the  sixteenth  centuiy,  preach  a  crusade 
against  Luther,  in  order  to  save  the  papacy. 

He  had  skQfully  chosen  the  ground  on  which  he  gave 
battle :  sacranientalism  and  tradition  are,  in  fact,  the 
two  essential  features  of  the  papal  religion ;  just  as  a 


HISTORY  OP  THE  REFOEMATION. 


lively  faith  and  Holy  Scripture  are  of  the  religion  of 
the  Gospel.  Hemy  did  a  service  to  the  Reformation, 
by  pointing  out  the  principles  it  would  mainly  have  to 
combat ;  and  by  f  ui'nishing  Luther  with  an  opportunity 
of  establishing  the  authority  of  the  Bible,  he  made  him 
take  a  most  important  step  in  the  path  of  reform.  "  If 
a  teaching  is  opposed  to  Scripture,"  said  the  reformer, 
"  whatever  be  its  origin — traditions,  custom,  kings, 
Thomists,  sophists,  Satan,  or  even  an  angel  from 
heaven, — all  fi-om  whom  it  proceeds  must  be  accursed. 
Nothing  can  exist  contrary  to  Scripture,  and  eveiything 
must  exist  for  it." 

Heni-y's  book  being  terminated  by  the  aid  of  the 
Bishop  of  Rochester,  the  king  shewed  it  to  Sir  Thomas 
More,  who  begged  him  to  pronounce  less  decidedly  in 
favour  of  the  papal  supremacy.  "  I  will  not  change 
a  word,"  rejjlied  the  king,  full  of  servile  devotion  to 
the  popedom.  "  Besides,  I  have  my  reasons ; "  and  he 
whispered  them  in  More's  ear. 

Doctor  Clarke,  ambassador  from  England  at  the 
court  of  Rome,  was  commissioned  to  present  the  pope 
with  a  magnificently  bound  copy  of  the  king's  work. 
'•  The  gloiy  of  England,"  said  he,  "  is  to  be  in  the 
foremost  rank  among  the  nations  in  obedience  to 
the  papacy."  Happily  Britain  was  erelong  to  know  a 
glory  of  a  very  different  kind.  The  ambassador  added, 
that  his  master,  after  having  refuted  Luther's  errors 
with  the  pen,  was  ready  to  combat  his  adherents  with 
the  sword.  The  pope,  touched  with  this  offer,  gave 
him  liis  foot,  and  then  his  check  to  kiss,  and  said  to 
him  :  "  I  will  do  for  your  master's  book  as  much  as 
the  church  has  done  for  the  works  of  St.  Jerome  and 
St.  Augustine." 

The  enfeebled  papacy  had  neither  the  power  of  in- 
telligence, nor  even  of  fanaticism.  It  still  maintained 
its  pretensions  and  its  pomp,  but  it  resembled  the  corpses 
of  the  mighty  ones  of  the  earth  that  lie  in  state,  clad  in 
their  most  magnificent  robss :  splendour  above,  death 
and  coiTuption  below.  The  thunderbolts  of  a  Hilde- 
brand  ceasing  to  produce  their  effect,  Rome  gratefully 
accepted  the  defence  of  laymen,  such  as  Henry  VIII. 
and  Sir  Thomas  More,  without  disdaining  their  judi- 
cial sentences  and  their  scaffolds.  "  We  must  honour- 
those  noble  champions,"  said  the  pope  to  his  cardinals, 
"who  shew  themselves  prepared  to  cut  off  with  the 
sword  the  rotten  members  of  Jesus  Christ.  "What  title 
shall  we  give  to  the  virtuous  king  of  England?" — 
Protector  of  the  Roman  Church,  suggested  one ;  Apostolic 
king,  said  another;  and,  finally,  but  not  without  some 
opposition,  Heniy  VHI.  was  proclaimed  Defender  of  the 
Faith.  At  the  same  time  the  pope  promised  ten  years' 
j  indulgence  to  all  readers  of  the  king's  book.  Tliis  was 
a  lure  after  the  fashion  of  the  Middle  Ages,  and  which 
never  failed  in  its  effect.  The  clergy  compared  its 
author  to  the  wisest  of  kings  ;  and  the  book,  of  which 
many  thousand  copies  were  printed,  filled  the  Christian 
world  (Coehloeus  tells  us)  with  admiration  and  delight. 

Kothing  could  equal  Henry's  joy.  "  His  majesty," 
said  the  Vicar  of  Croydon,  "  would  uot  exchange  that 
name  for  all  London  and  twenty  miles  round."  The 
king's  fool,  entering  the  room  just  as  his  master  had 
received  the  bull,  asked  him  the  cause  of  his  transports. 
"The  pope  has  just  named  me  Defender  of  the  Faith!" 
•^"  Ho  !  ho  !  good  Han-y,"  reijlied  the  fool,  "  let  you 


and  me  defend  one  another;  but  .  .  .  take  my 
word  for  it  ,  ,  ,.  let  the  faith  alone  to  defend  itself ." 
An  entire  modern  system  was  found  in  those  words. 
In  the  midst  of  the  general  intoxication,  the  fool  was 
the  only  sensible  person.  But  Henry  could  listen  to 
nothing.  Seated  on  an  elevated  throne,  with  the  cardi- 
nal at  his  right  hand,  he  caused  the  pope's  letter  to  be 
read  in  public.  The  trumpets  sounded :  Wolsey  said 
mass ;  the  king  and  his  court  took  tlieii'  seats  around  a 
sumptuous  table,  and  the  heralds-at-arms  proclaimed : 
Henriciis  Dei  gratia  Rex  Anglice  et  Francia,  Defensor 
Fidei  et  Dominus  Hiberniai! 

Thus  was  the  king  of  England  more  than  ever 
united  to  the  pope :  whoever  brings  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures into  his  kingdom  shall  there  encounter  that 
material  sword,  ferrum  et  materialem  gladium,  in  which 
the  papacy  so  much  delighted. 


CHAPTER  VL 

Wolsey's  Machinations  to  obtain  the  Tiara— Ho  gains  Charles  V.— Alliance 
between  Henry  and  Charles— Wolsey  offers  to  Command  the  Troops — 
Treaty  of  Bruges— Henry  believes  himself  King  of  France— Victories  of 
Francis  I. — Death  of  Leo  X. 

One  thing  only  was  wanting  to  check  more  surely  the 
progress  of  the  Gospel :  .  "Wolsey's  accession  to  the 
pontifical  throne.  Consumed  by  the  desire  of  reaching 
"  the  summit  of  sacerdotal  unity,"  he  formed,  to  attain 
this  end,  one  of  the  most  perfidious  schemes  ambition 
ever  engendered.  He  thought  with  others,  "  The  end 
justifies  the  means." 

The  cardinal  could  only  attain  the  popedom  through 
the  emperor  or  the  king  of  France;  for  then,  as  now, 
it  was  the  secular  powers  that  really  elected  the  chief 
of  catholicity.  After  carefully  weighing  the  influence 
of  these  two  princes,  Wolsey  found  that  the  balance 
inclined  to  the  side  of  Charles,  and  his  choice  was 
made.  A  close  intimacy  of  long  standing  united  him 
to  Francis  I.,  but  that  mattered  little ;  he  must  betray 
his  friend  to  gain  his  friend's  rival. 

But  this  was  no  easy  matter.  Hemy  was  dissatis- 
fied with  Charles  the  Fifth.  Wolsey  was  therefore 
obliged  to  employ  eveiy  imaginable  delicacy  in  his 
mauoBuvres.  First  he  sent  Sir  Richard  "Wingfield  to 
the  empei'or ;  then  he  wrote  a  flattering  letter  in 
Henry's  name  to  the  princess-regent  of  the  Low 
Countries.  Tlie  difficulty  was  to  get  the  king  to  sign 
it.  "  Have  the  goodness  to  put  yoiu"  name,"  said 
Wolsey,  "  even  if  it  should  annoy  your  Highness. 
.     .     .     You  know  vciy  well  .     .     that  women 

like  to  be  pleased."  This  argument  prevailed  with  the 
king,  who  still  possessed  a  spirit  of  gallantly.  Lastly, 
Wolsey,  being  named  arbitrator  between  Charles  and 
Francis,  resolved  to  depart  for  Calais,  apparently  to 
hear  the  complaints  of  the  two  princes  ;  but  in  reality 
to  betray  one  of  them.  Wolsey  felt  as  much  pleasm-e 
in  such  practices,  as  Francis  in  giving  battle. 

The  king  of  France  rejected  his  arbitration :  he  had 
a  sharp  eye,  and  his  mother  one  stLU  sharper.     "  Your 


WOLSEY'S  PRACTICES. 


621 


ma<!ter  loves  me  not,"  said  he  to  Charles's  ambassador ; 
"  and  I  do  not  love  him  any  more,  and  urn  determined 
to  be  his  enemy."  It  was  impossible  to  speak  more 
plainly.  Far  from  imitating;  this  frankii«-s,  t\w  yoVuit: 
Cliarlos  endeavoured  to  j;;iin  AVi>N.  y.  aii'l  \\  nl-i  y.  who 
was  eager  to  sell  himself,  udroillv  luiilnl  at  what  juire 
he  mi-jht  be  bought.  "If  the  king  c.f  Kngland  .Mdes 
with  me,"  Charles  informed  the  cardinal,  "  you  shall 
be  elected  pope  at  the  death  of  Leo  X."  Francis, 
betrayed  by  "Wolsey,  abandoned  by  the  pojjc,  and 
threatened  by  the  emperor,  determined  at  last  to  accept 
Henry's  mediation. 

But  Charles  was  now  thinking  of  veiy  different 
matters.  Instead  of  a  mediation,  he  demanded  of  the 
king  of  England  4000  of  his  famous  bowmen.  Henry 
smiled  as  he  read  the  despatch ;  and,  looking  at  Pace, 
his  secretary,  and  Marney,  the  captain  of  his  guards, 
he  said:  '■'•  Bmti  qui  audinnt  et  iioii  inlelligunt!" — thus 
forbidding  thorn  to  nuderstand,  and,  above  all,  to  bruit 
abroad  this  strange  request.  It  was  agreed  to  raise 
the  number  of  archers  to  GOOO;  and  the  cardinal, 
having  the  tiara  coutimially  before  his  eyes,  departed 
to  perform  at  Calais  the  odious  comedy  of  a  hypo- 
critical arbitration.  Being  detained  at  Dover  by  con- 
trary winds,  the  mediator  took  advantage  of  this  delay 
to  draw  up  a  list  of  the  6000  archers  and  then-  cap- 
tains, not  forgetting  to  insert  in  it,  "  certain  obstinate 
deer,"  as  Ileniy  had  said,  "  that  must  of  necessity  be 
hunted  down."  These  were  some  gentlemen  whom  the 
king  desired  to  get  rid  of. 

AVhile  the  ambassadors  of  the  king  of  France  were 
received  at  Calais,  on  the  4th  of  August,  with  great 
honours,  by  the  lord  high  chamberlain  of  England,  the 
cardinal  signed  a  convention  with  Charles's  ministers 
that  Henry  shoidd  withdraw  his  promise  of  the  Prin- 
cess Mary's  hand  to  the  dauphin,  and  give  her  to  the 
emperor.  At  the  same  time  he  issued  orders  to  destroy 
the  French  navy,  and  to  invade  France.  And,  finally, 
he  procured,  by  way  of  compensating  England  for  the 
pension  of  16,000  pounds  hitherto  received  from  the 
court  of  St.  Germ.aius,  that  the  emperor  should  pay 
henceforward  the  annual  sum  of  40,000  marks  With- 
out ready  money  the  bargain  would  not  have  been  a 
good  one. 

This  was  not  all.  While  Wolsey  was  waiting  to  be 
elected  pope,  he  conceived  the  idea  of  becoming  a 
soldier.  A  commander  was  wanted  for  the  GOOO 
archers  Heniy  was  sending  against  the  king  of  France ; 
and  why  should  he  not  be  the  cardinal  himself  ?  He 
immediately  intrigued  to  get  the  noblemen  set  aside 
who  had  been  proposed  as  geuerals-in-chief.  "Shrews- 
buiy,"  he  said  to  the  king,  "  is  wanted  for  Scotland — 
Worcester,  by  his  experience,  is  worthy  that  ,  .  . 
you  should  keep  him  near  you.  As  for  Dorset  .  .  . 
he  will  be  veiy  dear."  Then  the  priest  added ;  "  Sire, 
if,  during  my  sojourn  on  the  other  side  of  the  sea,  you 
have  good  reivson  to  send  yom-  archers,  ...  I 
hasten  to  inform  you,  that  whenever  the  emperor  takes 
the  command  of  his  soldiers,  I  am  ready,  although  an 
ecclesiastic,  to  put  myself  at  the  head  of  yoiu's."  AVhat 
devoteduess !  AVolsey  would  cause  his  cross  of  cardinal 
o  latere  to  be  carried  before  him  (he  said) ;  and  neither 
Francis  nor  Bayard  would  be  able  to  resist  him.  To 
command  at  the  same  time  the  State,  the  Church,  and 


the  army,  while  awaiting  the  tiara, — to  sun-ound  his 
head  with  laurels ;  such  was  this  man's  ambition.  Un- 
fortunately for  him,  they  were  not  of  that  opinion  at 
court.     The  king  made  the  Earl  of  Essex  commauder- 

As  AVolsey  could  not  be  general,  ho  turned  to  diplo- 
macy. He  hastened  to  Bruges  ;  and  as  he  entered  at 
the  emperor's  side,  a  voice  was  heard  above  the  crowd, 
exclaiming:  Salve,  Bex  regis  iui  atque  reijni  sui! — a 
sound  most  pleasing  to  his  cars.  People  were  very 
much  astonislied  at  Bruges  by  the  intunacy  existing 
between  the  cardinal  and  the  emperor.  "There  is 
some  mysleiy  beneath  it  all,"  they  said.  Wolsey  de- 
sired to  place  the  crown  of  France  on  Hemy's  head, 
and  the  tiara  on  his  own.  Such  was  the  mystery, 
which  was  well  worth  a  few  civilities  to  the  mighty 
Charles  V.  The  alliance  was  concluded,  and  the  con- 
tracting parties  agreed  "to  avenge  the  insults  offered 
to  the  throne  of  Jesus  Chi-ist,"  or  in  other  words,  to 
the  popedom. 

Wolsey,  in  order  to  drag  Heniy  into  the  intrigues 
which  were  to  procure  him  the  tiara,  had  reminded 
him  that  he  was  king  of  France,  and  the  suggestion 
had  been  eagerly  caught  at.  At  midnight,  on  the  7th 
of  August,  tiie  liing  dictated  to  his  secretary  a  letter 
for  Wolsey,  containing  this  strange  expression  ;  Si  ibitis 
parare  regi  locum  in  regno  ejus  hereditaria,  Majestas  ejus 
(juuin  tenipiis  erit  opportumim,  sequetur.  The  theologian 
who  had  corrected  the  famous  Latin  book  of  the  king's 
against  Luther,  most  certainly  had  not  revised  this 
phrase.  According  to  Henry,  France  was  his  heredi- 
tary kingdom,  and  Wolsey  was  going  to  prepare  the 
throne  for  him  .  .  .  The  king  could  not  restrain 
his  joy  at  the  mere  idea,  and  already  he  surpassed  in 
imagination  both  Edward  HI.  and  the  Black  Prince. 
"  I  am  about  to  attain  a  gloiy  superior  to  that  which 
my  ancestors  have  gained  by  so  many  wars  and  battles." 
Wolsey  traced  out  for  him  the  road  to  his  palace  on 
the  banks  of  the  Seine-  "Mezieres  is  about  to  fall; 
afterwards  there  is  only  Rheims,  which  is  not  a  strong 
city ;  and  thus  your  grace  will  verj'  easily  reach  Paris." 
Heniy  followed  on  the  map  the  route  he  would  have 
to  take:  "Affairs  are  going  on  well,"  wrote  the  car- 
dinal, "  the  Lord  be  praised."  In  him  this  Christian 
language  was  a  mere  official  formality. 

Wolsey  was  mistaken  :  things  were  going  on  badly. 
On  the  20th  of  October,  1522,  Francis  I.,  whom  so 
much  perfidy  had  been  unable  to  deceive, — Francis, 
ambitious  and  turbulent,  but  honest  in  this  matter,  at 
least,  and  confiding  in  the  strength  of  his  arms,  had 
suddenly  appeared  between  Cambray  and  Valenciennes. 
The  emperoi-  fled  to  Flanders  in  alai-m ;  and  AVolsey, 
instead  of  putting  himself  at  the  head  of  the  army,  had 
shielded  himself  under  his  arbitrator's  cloak.  Writing 
to  Heniy,  who,  a  fortnight  before,  had,  by  his  advice, 
excited  Charles  to  attack  France,  he  said:  "I  am 
confident  that  your  virtuous  mediation  will  greatly 
increase  your  reputation  and  honour  throughout 
Christendom."  Francis  rejected  AVolsey 's  offers,  but 
the  object  of  the  latter  was  attained.  The  negotiations 
had  gained  time  for  Charles ;  and  bad  weather  soon 
stopiied  the  French  army.  AVolsey  returned  satisfied 
to  London  about  the  middle  of  December.  It  was  true 
that  Henry's  triumphant  entry  into  Paris  became  very 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


difficult ;  but  the  cardinal  was  sure  of  tlie  emperor's 
favour,  and  through  it  (he  imagined)  of  the  tiara. 
AYolscy  had  done,  therefore,  wliat  he  desired.  He  liad 
hardly  arrived  in  England,  when  there  came  news 
which  raised  liini  to  tlie  height  of  happiness :  Leo  X. 
was  dead.  His  joy  sur[)assed  what  Heury  had  felt  at 
the  tliought  of  his  hereditarij  l-inrjdom.  Protected  hy 
tlie  powerful  Charles  V.,  to  whom  he  had  sacrificed 
everything,  the  English  cardinal  was  at  last  ou  the 
point  of  receiving  that  pontifical  crown  which  would 
permit  him  to  crush  heresy,  and  which  was,  in  his 
eyes,  the  just  reward  of  so  many  infamous  transactions. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

The  Just  Men  of  Lincolnshire— Their  Assemblies  and  Teaching— Agnes  and 
Murden  —  Itinerant  Libraries — Polemical  Conversations  —  Sarcasm — 
Hoyal  Decree  and  Terror — Depositions  and  Condemnations  —  Four 
Martyrs— A  Conclave— Charles  consoles  Wolsey. 

"VVOLSEY  did  not  stay  until  he  was  pope,  before  perse- 
cuting the  disciples  of  the  Word  of  God.  Desirous  of 
carrying  out  the  stipulations  of  the  convention  at 
Bruges,  he  had  broken  out  against  "  the  king's  subjects 
who  disturbed  the  apostolic  see."  Heuiy  had  to  vindi- 
cate the  title  conferred  ou  hhn  by  the  pope ;  the  cardi- 
nal had  to  gain  the  popedom ;  and  both  could  satisfy 
their  desires  by  the  erection  of  a  few  scaffolds. 

In  the  county  of  Lincoln,  ou  tlio  shores  of  the  North 
Sea,  along  the  fertile  banks  of  the  Plumber,  Trent,  and 
Witham,  and  on  the  slopes  of  the  smiling  hills,  dwelt 
many  peaceful  Christians — labourers,  artificers,  and 
shepherds — who  spent  theii-  days  iu  toil,  in  keeping 
their  flocks,  in  doing  good,  and  in  reading  the  Bible. 
The  more  the  Gospel  light  increased  in  England,  tlie 
greater  was  the  increase  in  the  number  of  these  chil- 
di'en  of  peace.  These  "  just  men,"  as  they  were  called, 
were  devoid  of  human  knowledge,  but  they  thirsted  for 
tlic  knowledge  of  God.  Thinking  they  were  alone  the 
true  disciples  of  the  Lord,  they  married  only  among 
thuinselves.  They  ap|)eai-ed  occasionally  at  ehiu-cli; 
but  instead  of  repeatiim'  lliflr  |irayers  like  the  rest, 
they  sat,  said  their  eiHinic-,  ••  ihhiil  like  beasts."  Ou 
Sundays  and  holidays,  they  assembled  in  each  other's 
houses,  and  sometimes  passed  a  whole  night  in  reading 
a  portion  of  Scripture.  If  there  duxnced  to  be  few 
books  among  them,  one  of  the  brethren,  wlio  had 
learnt  by  heart  the  Epistle  of  St.  James,  the  beginning 
of  St.  Luke's  gospel,  the  sermon  on  the  mount,  or  au 
epistle  of  St.  Paul's,  would  recite  a  few  verses  iu  a 
loud  and  calm  voice ;  tlien  all  would  piously  converse 
about  the  holy  truths  of  the  faith,  and  exhort  one 
another  to  put  tliem  in  practice.  But  if  any  person 
joined  their  meetings  who  did  not  bddng  to  theli- 
body,  they  would  all  keep  silmi.  S|„akiiig  much 
among  each  other,  they  were  ,^|»i  rhlos  Ijufore  those 
from  without:  fear  of  the  prirsls  and  of  the  faggot 
made  tliem  dumb.  There  was  no  family  rejoicing 
without  the  Scriptures.  At  the  marriage  of  a  daugh- 
ter of  the  aged  Durdant,  one  of  their  patriarchs,  the 
wedding  party  met  secretly  in  a  barn,  and  read  the 


whole  of  one  of  St.  Paul's  epistles.  Marriages  are 
rarely  celebrated  with  such  pastimes  as  this ! 

Although  they  were  dumb  before  enemies  or  sus- 
pected persons,  these  poor  people  did  not  keep  silence 
iu  the  presence  of  tlie  humble :  a  glowing  proselytism 
characterized  them  all.  "  Come  to  my  house,"  said 
the  pious  Agnes  Asliford,  to  James  Mordcn,  "  and  I 
will  teach  you  some  verses  of  Scripture."  Agnes  was 
an  educated  woman ;  slie  could  read ;  Morden  came, 
and  the  poor  woman's  chamber  was  transformed  into  a 
school  of  theology.  Agues  began ;  Ye  are  tlie  salt  of 
the  earth,  and  then  recited  the  following  verses.  Five 
times  did  Morden  return  to  Agnes  before  he  knew  that 
beautiful  discourse.  "  We  are  si)read  like  salt  over 
the  ^al•ious  parts  of  the  kingdom,"  said  this  Christian 
woman  to  tho  neopliyte,  "in  order  that  we  may  check 
the  progress  ..f  siiiM'i>iilion,  by  our  doctrine  and  our 
life.  But,"  aiMiil  sh.-,  in  alarm,  "keep  this  secret  iu 
your  heart,  as  a  man  wuidd  keep  a  thief  in  prison." 

As  boolvs  were  rare,  these  pious  Christians  had 
established  a  kmd  of  itinerant  library,  and  one  Jolin 
Scrivener  was  continually  engaged  iu  carrying  the 
precious  volumes  from  one  to  another.  But  at  times, 
as  he  was  proceeding  along  the  banks  of  the  river,  or 
through  the  forest  glades,  he  observed  that  he  was 
followed.  He  would  quicken  his  pace  and  run  into 
some  barn,  whore  the  friendly  peasants  promptly  hid 
him  beneath  the  straw,  or,  like  the  spies  of  Israel,  under 
the  stalks  of  flax.  The  bloodhounds  arrived,  sought 
and  found  nothing ;  and  more  than  once  those  who  so 
generously  harboured  tliese  evangelists  cruelly  expiated 
the  crime  of  charity. 

The  disaj)i)ointed  officers  had  scarcely  retired  from 
the  neighbourliood,  when  these  friends  of  the  Word  of 
God  came  out  of  their  hiding-place,  and  profited  by 
the  moment  of  liberty  to  assemble  the  brethren.  Tiie 
persecutions  they  suffered  irritated  them  against  the 
priests.  They  worsliipped  God,  read,  and  sang  with  a 
low  voice ;  but  wlieu  the  conversation  became  general, 
they  gave  free  course  to  their  indignation.  "  Woidd 
you  know  the  use  of  the  pope's  pardons  1 "  said  one  of 
them ;  "  they  are  to  blind  the  eyes  and  empty  the  purse." 
— "  True  pilgrimages,"  said  the  tailor  Geoffrey  of  Ux- 
bridge,  "  consist  in  visiting  the  poor  and  sick,  barefoot, 
if  so  it  please  you,  for  these  are  the  little  ones  that  are 
God's  true  image." — "  Money  spent  iu  pilgrimages," 
added  a  third,  "  serves  only  to  maintain  thieves  and 
Iiarlots."  The  women  were  often  the  most  animated 
in  the  controversy.  "  What  need  is  there  to  go  to  the 
feet"  said  Agnes  Ward,  who  disbelieved  iu  sauits, 
"  when  we  may  go  to  the  head '?  " — "  The  clergy  of  the 
good  old  times,"  said  the  wife  of  David  Lewis,  "  used 
to  lead  the  jieople  as  a  hen  leadeth  her  chickens ;  but 
now,  if  oui"  priests  lead  their  flocks  anywhere,  it  is  to 
the  devil  assuredly." 

Erelong  there  was  a  general  panic  throughout  this 
district.  The  king's  confessor,  Jolin  Longlaud,  was 
bisliop  of  Lincoln.  This  fanatic  priest,  AVolsey's 
creature,  took  advantage  of  his  positiou  to  petition 
Henry  for  a  severe  persecution  :  this  was  the  ordinary 
use  iu  England,  I^'rance,  and  elsewhere,  of  the  con- 
fessors of  princes.  It  was  unfortunate  that  among 
these  pious  disciples  of  the  Word,  men  of  a  cynical  turn 
were  now  and  then  met  with,  whose  biting  sarcasms 


WOLSEY  LOSES  THE  TIARA. 


623 


went  beyond  all  bounds.  AVolsey  and  Longhmd  knew 
how  to  employ  those  expressions  in  arousing  the  king's 
anger.  "  As  one  of  these  fellows,"  they  said,  "  was 
biisv  beating  out  his  corn  in  his  barn,  a  man  chanced 
to  pass  by.  '  Good  morrow,  neighbour,'  said  the  lat- 
ter, 'you  arc  hard  at  it!' — 'Yes,'  replied  the  old 
heretic,  thinking  of  transubstantiation,  'laui  thrash- 
ing tiie  corn  out  of  which  the  priests  make  God 
Almighty.'"     Henry  hesitated  no  longer. 

Ou  tiie  20th  October,  1521,  nine  days  after  the  bull 
on  tiio  Dej'endiT  of  the  Faith  had  been  signed  at  Rome, 
the  king,  wiio  was  at  AViudsor,  summoned  his  secretary, 
and  dictated  an  order,  commanding  all  his  subjects  to 
assist  the  Bishop  of  Lincoln  against  the  heretics.  "  You 
will  obey  it  at  the  peril  of  your  lives,"  added  he.  The 
order  was  transmitted  to  Longland,  and  the  bishop 
immediately  issued  his  warrants,  and  his  ollicers  spread 
terror  far  and  wide.  When  they  beheld  them,  tliise 
peaceful  but  timid  Christians  were  troubled.  Isabella 
Bartlet,  hearing  them  approach  her  cottage,  screamed 
out  to  her  husband :  "  Y'ou  are  a  lost  man  !  and  I  am 
a  dead  woman!"  This  cry  was  re-echoed  from  all 
the  cottages  of  Lincolnshire.  The  bishop,  ou  his  judg- 
ment-seat, skilfully  played  upon  these  poor  unhappy 
beings,  to  make  them  accuse  one  another.  Alas! 
according  to  the  ancient  prophecy,  "the  brother 
delivered  up  the  brother  to  death."  Robert  Bartlet 
deposed  against  his  brother  Richard  aud  his  own  wife ; 
Jane  Bernard  accused  her  own  father,  and  Tredway 
his  mother.  It  Avas  not  until  after  the  most  cruel 
anguish  that  these  poor  creatures  were  driven  to  such 
frightful  extremities ;  but  the  bishop  aud  death  terrilied 
them  :  a  small  number  alone  remained  firm.  As  regards 
heroism,  Wickliffe's  Reformation  brought  but  a  feeble 
aid  to  the  Reformation  of  the  sixteenth  century;  still, 
if  it  did  not  furnish  many  heroes,  it  prepared  the 
English  people  to  love  God's  Word  above  all  things. 
Of  these  humble  people,  some  were  condemned  to 
do  penance  in  different  monasteries;  others  to  carry 
a  faggot  ou  their  shoulders  thrice  round  the  market- 
place, and  then  to  stand  some  time  exposed  to  the 
jeers  of  the  populace ;  others  were  fastened  to  a  post 
while  the  executiouer  branded  them  on  the  cheek  with 
a  red-hot  iron.  They  also  had  their  martyrs.  Wick- 
liffe's revival  had  never  been  without  them.  Four  of 
these  brethren  were  chosen  to  be  put  to  death,  aud 
among  them  the  pious  evangelical  colporteur  Scrivener. 
By  burning  him  to  ashes,  the  clergy  desired  to  make 
sure  that  he  would  no  longer  circulate  the  AVord  of 
God ;  and  by  a  horrible  refinement  of  cruelty,  his  chil- 
dren were  compelled  to  set  fire  to  the  pile  that  was 
to  consume  their  father.  They  stretched  forth  their 
trembling  hands,  held  in  the  strong  grasp  of  the  execu- 
tioners. .  .  .  Poor  children!  .  .  .  But  it  is 
easier  to  burn  the  limbs  of  Christians  than  to  (piench 
the  Spirit  of  Heaven.  These  cruel  fires  could  not 
destroy  among  the  Lincolnshire  peasantry  that  love 
of  the  Bible  which,  in  all  ages,  has  been  England's 
strength,  far  more  than  the  wisdom  of  her  senators 
or  the  bravery  of  her  generals. 

Ilaviug  by  these  exploits  gained  indisputable  claims 
to  the  tiara,  Wolsey  turned  his  efforts  towards  Rome. 
Leo  X.,  as  we  have  seen,  was  just  dead,  (1522.) 
The  cardinal  sent  Pace  to  Rome,  instructing  him  to 


"  Represent  to  the  cardinals  that  by  choosing  a  partisan 
of  Charles  or  Francis,  they  will  incur  the  enmity  of 
one  or  the  other  of  these  princes,  and  that  if  they  elect 
some  feeble  Italian  jirince,  the  apust<jlical  see  must  be- 
come the  i)rey  of  the  strongest.  Luther's  revolt  and 
the  emperor's  ambition  endanger  the  papacy.  There 
is  only  one  means  of  prcventiug  the  threatening  dangers. 
.  .  .  It  is  to  choose  me.  .  .  Now,  go  aud  exert 
yoiu-self."  The  conclave  opened  at  Rome  on  the  27th 
December,  and  Wolsey  was  proposed;  but  the  cardi- 
nals were  not  generally  favourable  to  his  election, 
"  He  is  too  young,"  said  one ;  "  too  firm,"  said  another. 
"  He  will  lix  the  scat  of  the  papacy  in  Englaud  and 
not  in  Rome,"  urged  many.  He  did  not  receive  twenty 
votes.  "The  cardinals,"  wrote  the  English  ambassador, 
"snarled  and  quarrelled  with  each  other;  and  their 
bad  faith  aud  hatred  increased  every  day."  Ou  the 
sixth  day,  only  one  dish  was  sent  them ;  and  then  in 
despair  they  chose  Adrian,  who  had  been  tutor  to  the 
emperor,  and  the  cry  was  raised :  Papain  huhemus  ! 

During  all  this  time  Wolsey  was  in  London,  con- 
sumed by  ambition,  aud  counting  the  days  and  hours. 
At  length  a  despatch  from  Gheut,  dated  the  22d 
January,  reached  him  with  these  words :  "  On  the  'Jth 
of  January,  the  Cardinal  of  Tortosa  was  elected !  " 
Wolsey  was  almost  distracted.  To  gain 
Charles,  he  had  sacrificed  the  alliance  of  Francis  I.; 
there  was  no  stratagem  that  he  had  not  employed,  and 
yet  Charles,  in  spite  of  his  engagements,  had  procured 
the  election  of  his  tutor !  .  .  .  The  emperor  knew 
what  must  be  the  cardinal's  anger,  and  endeavoured  to 
appease  it:  "The  new  pope,"  he  wrote,  "is  old  and 
sickly;  he  cannot  hold  his  olfice  long.  .  .  .  Beg 
the  Cardinal  of  York,  for  my  sake,  to  taica  great  care  of 
his  health." 

Charles  did  more  than  this :  he  visited  London  in 
person,  under  pretence  of  his  betrothal  with  Mary  of 
England,  and,  in  the  treaty  then  drawn  up,  he  con- 
sented to  the  insertion  of  an  article,  by  virtue  of  which 
Henry  VIII.  and  the  mighty  empor(}r  bound  themselves, 
if  cither  should  infringe  the  treaty,  to  appear  before 
Wolsey  aud  to  submit  to  his  decisions,  i'he  cardinal, 
gratified  by  such  condescension,  grew  calm  ;  and  at  the 
same  time  he  was  soothed  with  the  most  flattering  hopes. 
"  Charles's  imbecile  preceptor,"  they  told  him,  "  has 
arrived  at  the  Vatican,  attended  only  by  his  female 
cook ;  you  shall  soon  make  your  entrance  there  sur- 
rounded by  all  your  grandeur."  To  be  certain  of  his 
game,  Wolsey  made  secret  approaches  to  Francis  I., 
and  then  waited  for  the  death  of  the  pope. 


CHAPTER  Vin. 

Cliaracter  of  Tyndale— He  AiTives  in  London— He  Preaches— Tlie  Cloth  and 
the  Ell — The  Bishop  of  London  gives  Audience  to  Tjudale— He  is  Dis- 
missed—A  Christian  Merchant  of  London— Spirit  of  Love  in  the  Refor- 
mation—Tyndale  in  Monmouth's  House— Fryth  lielps  him  to  Translate 
the  New  Testament— Importunities  of  the  Bishop  of  Liiicoto— Persecu- 
tion in  London— Tyndale's  Resolution— Uo  Departs— His  Indignation 
against  the  Prelates— His  Hopes. 

While  the  cardinal  was  intriguing  to  attain  his  selfish 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


ends,  Tyndale  was  humbly  carrying:  out  the  great  idea 
of  giving  the  Scriptures  of  God  to  England. 

After  bidding  a  sad  farewell  to  the  manor-house  of 
Sodbui-y,  the  learned  tutor  had  departed  for  London. 
This  occurred  about  the  end  of  1522,  or  the  beginning 
of  1523.  He  had  left  the  university — he  had  forsaken 
the  house  of  his  protector  ;  his  wandering  career  was 
about  to  commence,  but  a  thick  veil  hid  from  him  all 
its  sorrows.  Tyndale,  a  man  simple  in  his  habits, 
sober,  daring,  and  generous,  fearing  neither  fatigue 
nor  danger,  inflexible  in  his  duty,  anointed  with  the 
Spirit  of  God,  overflowing  with  love  for  his  brethren, 
emancipated  from  human  traditions,  the  servant  of  God 
alone,  and  loving  nought  but  Jesus  Christ ;  imaginative, 
quick  at  repartee,  and  of  touching  eloquence — such  a 
man  might  have  shone  in  the  foremost  ranks ;  but  he 
preferred  a  retired  life  in  some  poor  corner,  provided 
he  could  give  his  countrymen  the  Scriptures  of  God. 
Where  could  he  find  this  calm  retreat?  was  the  ques- 
tion he  put  to  himself,  as  he  was  making  his  solitary 
way  to  London.  The  metropolitan  see  was  then  filled 
by  Cuthbert  Tonstall,  who  was  more  of  a  statesman 
and  a  scholar  than  of  a  churchman,  "  the  first  of 
English  men  in  Greek  and  Latin  literature,"  said 
Erasmus.  This  eulogy  of  the  learned  Dutchman 
occurred  to  Tyudale's  memory.  It  was  the  Greek 
Testament  of  Erasmus  that  led  me  to  Christ,  said 
he  to  himself ;  why  should  not  the  house  of  Erasmus's 
friend  offer  me  a  shelter  that  I  may  translate  it  ?  .  .  . 
At  last  he  reached  London,  and,  a  stranger  in  that 
crowded  city,  he  wandered  along  the  streets,  a  prey 
by  turns  to  hope  and  fear. 

Being  recommended  by  Sir  John  Walsh  to  Sir  Harry 
Guildford,  the  king's  comptroller,  and  by  him  to  several 
priests,  Tyndale  began  to  preach  almost  immediately, 
especially  at  St.  Dunstan's,  and  bore  into  the  heart  of 
the  capital  the  truth  which  had  been  banished  from 
the  banks  of  the  Severn.  The  Wui'd  of  God  was  with 
him  the  basis  of  salvation,  and  the  f/race  of  God  its 
essence.  His  inventive  mind  presented  the  truths  he 
proclaimed  in  a  striking  manner.  He  said  on  one 
occasion :  "  It  is  the  blood  of  Christ  that  opens  the 
gates  of  heaven,  and  not  thy  works.  I  am  wrong. 
.  .  .  Yes,  if  thou  wilt  have  it  so,  by  thy  good 
works  shalt  thou  be  saved.  Yet,  understand  me  well, 
not  by  those  which  thou  hast  done,  but  by  those  which 
Christ  has  done  for  thee.  Christ  is  in  thee  and  thou 
in  Him,  knit  together  inseparably.  Thou  canst  not  be 
damned,  except  Christ  be  damned  with  thee ;  neither 
can  Christ  be  saved  except  thou  be  saved  with  Him." 
This  lucid  view  of  justification  by  faith  places  Tyndale 
among  the  reformers.  He  did  not  take  his  seat  on  a 
bishop's  throne,  or  wear  a  silken  cope  ;  but  he  mounted 
the  scaffold,  and  was  clothed  with  a  garment  of  flames. 
In  the  service  of  a  crucified  Saviour  this  latter  distinc- 
tion is  higher  than  the  former. 

Yet  the  translation  was  his  chief  business ;  he  spoke 
to  his  acquaintances  about  it,  and  some  of  them  opposed 
his  project.  '•  The  teachings  of  the  doctors,"  said  some 
of  the  city  tradesmen,  "  can  alone  make  us  understand 
Scripture." — "That  is  to  say,"  replied  Tyndale,  "I 
must  measure  the  )/ard  by  the  doth.  Look  here,"  con- 
tinued he,  using  a  practical  argument,  "  here  are  in 
your  shop  twenty  pieces  of  stuff  of  different  lengths. 


.     .  Do  you  measure  the  yard  by  these  pieces,  or 

the  pieces  by  the  yard  ?  .  .  .  The  universal  stand- 
ard is  Scripture."  This  comparison  was  easily  fixed 
in  the  minds  of  the  petty  tradesmen  of  the  capitaL 

Desirous  of  carrying  out  his  project,  Tyndale  aspired 
to  become  the  bishop's  chaplain  ;  his  ambition  was  more 
modest  than  AVolsey's.  The  hellenist  possessed  quali- 
ties which  could  not  fail  to  please  the  most  learned  of 
Englishmen  in  Greek  literature  :  Tonstall  and  Tyndale 
both  liked  and  read  the  same  authors.  The  ex-tutor 
determined  to  plead  his  cause  through  the  elegant  and 
harmonious  disciple  of  Radicus  and  Gorgias  "  Here  is 
one  of  Isocrates'  orations  that  I  have  translated  into 
Latin,"  said  he  to  Sir  Harry  Guildford  ;  "  I  should  be 
pleased  to  become  chaplain  to  his  lordship  the  Bishop 
of  London ;  will  you  beg  him  to  accept  this  trifle. 
Isocrates  ought  to  be  an  excellent  recommendation  to 
a  scholar ;  will  you  be  good  enough  to  add  yours." 
Guildford  spoke  to  the  bishop,  placed  the  translation 
in  his  hands,  and  Tonstall  replied  with  that  benevo- 
lence which  he  shewed  to  every  one.  "  Your  business 
is  in  a  fair  way,"  said  the  comptroller  to  Tyndale; 
"  write  a  letter  to  his  lordship,  and  deliver  it  yourself." 

Tyndale's  hopes  now  began  to  be  realized.  He  wrote 
his  letter  in  the  best  style,  and  then,  commending  him- 
self to  God,  proceeded  to  the  episcopal  palace.  He 
fortunately  knew  one  of  the  bishop's  olficers,  William 
Hebilthwayte,  to  whom  he  gave  the  letter.  Hebilth- 
wayte  carried  it  to  his  lordship,  while  Tyndale  waited. 
His  heart  throbbed  with  anxiety:  shall  he  find  at  last 
the  long  hoped  for  asylum?  The  bishop's  answer 
might  decide  the  whole  course  of  his  life.  If  the  door 
is  opened, — if  the  translator  of  the  Scriptures  should 
be  settled  in  the  episcopal  palace,  why  should  not  his 
London  patron  receive  the  truth  like  his  patron  at  Sod- 
bury?  and,  in  that  case,  what  a  future  for  the  Church 
and  for  the  kingdom  !  .  .  .  The  Reformation  was 
knocking  at  the  door  of  the  hierarchy  of  England,  and 
the  latter  was  about  to  utter  its  yea  or  its  nay.  After 
a  few  moments'  absence  Hebilthwayte  returned  .  "  I 
am  going  to  conduct  you  to  his  lordship."  Tyndale 
fancied  himself  that  he  had  attained  his  wishes. 

The  bishop  was  too  kind-hearted  to  refuse  an  audience 
to  a  man  who  called  upon  him  with  the  triple  recom- 
mendation of  Isocrates,  of  the  comptroller,  and  of  the 
king's  old  companion-in-arms.  He  received  Tyndale 
with  kindness,  a  little  tempered,  however,  with  cold- 
ness, as  if  he  were  a  man  whose  acquaintanceship 
might  compromise  him.  Tyndale  haviug  made  known 
his  wishes,  the  bishop  hastened  to  reply :  "  Alas !  my 
house  is  full.  I  have  now  more  people  than  I  can 
employ."  Tyndale  was  discomfited  by  this  answer. 
The  Bishop  of  London  was  a  learned  man,  but  want- 
ing in  couriige  and  consistency;  he  gave  his  right  hand 
to  the  friends  of  letters  and  of  the  Gospel,  and  his  left 
hand  to  the  friends  of  the  priests ;  and  then  endeavoured 
to  walk  with  both.  But  when  he  had  to  choose  be- 
tween the  two  parties,  clerical  interests  i)revailed. 
There  was  no  lack  of  bishops,  priests,  and  laymen 
about  him,  who  intimidated  him  by  their  clamours. 
After  taking  a  few  steps  forward,  he  suddenly  recoiled. 
Still  Tyndale  ventured  to  hazard  a  word ;  but  the  pre- 
late was  cold  as  before.  The  humanists,  who  laughed 
at  the  ignorance  of  the  monks,  hesitated  to  touch  an 


TYNDALE  AND  THE  LONDON  MERCHANT. 


625 


ecclesiastical  system  which  lavished  on  them  such  rich 
sinecures.  Tliey  accepted  the  new  ideas  in  theory,  but 
not  in  practice.  They  were  very  willing  to  discuss  them 
at  table,  but  not  to  proclaim  them  from  the  pulpit ; 
and  covering  the  Greek  Testament  with  applause,  they 
toro  it  in  pieces  when  rendered  into  the  vulgar  tongue. 
'■Jfyou  will  look  well  about  London,"  said  Toustall 
coldly  to  the  poor  priest,  '"you  will  not  fail  to  meet 
with  some  suitable  employment."  This  was  all  Tyn- 
dalc  could  obtain.  Hebilthwaytc  waited  on  him  to  the 
door,  and  the  hellcnist  departed  sad  and  desponding. 

Ili-i  expectations  were  disaiipointed.  Driven  from 
the  banks  of  the  Severn,  without  a  home  in  the  capital, 
what  would  become  of  the  translation  of  the  Scriptures? 
"  Alas ! "  ho  said ;  "  I  was  deceived,  .     ,     there  is 

nothing  to  be  looked  for  from  the  bishops 

Christ  was  smitten  on  the  cheek  before  the  bishop, 
Paid  was  buffeted  before  the  bishop,  ,  .  ,  and  a 
bishop  has  just  turned  me  away."  His  dejection  did 
not  last  long:  there  was  an  elastic  principle  in  his  soid. 
"  I  hunger  for  the  Word  of  God,"  said  he ;  '*  I  will 
translate  it,  whatever  they  may  say  or  do.  God  will 
not  suffer  me  to  pei-ish.  He  never  made  a  mouth  but 
He  made  food  for  it,  nor  a  body  but  He  made  raunent 
also." 

This  tnistfulness  was  not  misplaced.  It  was  the 
privilege  of  a  layman  to  give  what  the  bishop  refused. 
Among  Tyndale's  hearers  at  St.  Dunstan's  was  a  rich 
merchant,  named  Humphrey  Monmouth,  who  had  visited 
Kome,  and  to  whom  (as  well  as  to  his  companions)  the 
pope  had  been  so  kind  as  to  give  certain  Roman  curio- 
sities, such  as  indulgences,  a  culpa  et  a  pwiid.  Ships 
laden  with  his  manufactures  evei-y  year  quitted  Loudon 
for  foreign  countries.  He  had  formerly  attended 
Colet's  preaching  at  St.  Paul's,  and  from  the  year  1515 
he  had  known  the  'Word  of  God.  He  was  one  of  the 
gentlest  and  most  obliging  men  in  England;  he  kept 
open  house  for  the  friends  of  learning  and  of  the  Gospel, 
and  his  library  contained  the  newest  publications.  In 
putting  on  Jesus  Christ,  Monmouth  had  particularly 
striven  to  put  on  His  character;  he  helped  generously 
with  his  purse  both  priests  and  men  of  letters ;  he  gave 
forty  pounds  sterling  to  the  chaplain  of  the  bishop  of 
London,  the  same  to  the  king's,  to  the  provincial  of  the 
Augustiues,  and  to  others  besides.  Latimer,  who  some- 
times dined  with  him,  once  related  in  the  pulpit  an 
anecdote  characteristic  of  the  friends  of  the  Eeformation 
in  England.  Among  the  regular  guests  at  Monmouth's 
table  was  one  of  his  poorest  neighbours,  a  zealous  Ro- 
manist, to  whom  his  generous  host  often  used  to  lend 
money.  One  day  when  the  pious  merchant  was  extol- 
ling Scripture  and  blaming  popery,  his  neighboiu"  turned 
pale,  rose  from  the  table,  and  left  the  room.  "  I  will 
never  set  foot  in  his  house  again,"  he  said  to  his  friends ; 
"  and  I  will  never  borrow  another  shilling  of  him." 
He  next  went  to  the  bishop  and  laid  an  information 
against  his  benefactor.  Monmouth  forgave  him,  and 
tried  to  bring  him  back ;  but  the  neighbour  constantly 
turned  out  of  his  way.  Ouce,  however,  they  met  in  a 
street  so  narrow  that  he  could  not  escape.  "I  will 
pass  by  without  looking  at  him,"  said  the  Romanist, 
turning  away  his  head.  But  Monmouth  went  straight 
to  him,  took  him  by  the  hand,  and  said  affectionately ; 
'•  Neighbour,  what  wrong  have  I  done  you?"  and  he 


continued  to  speak  to  him  with  so  much  love,  that  the 
poor  man  fell  on  his  knees,  bui-st  into  tears,  and  begged 
his  forgiveness.  Such  was  the  spirit  wliich,  at  tho 
veiy  outset,  animated  tho  work  of  the  Reformation  in 
England :  it  was  acceptable  to  God,  and  found  favour 
with  the  people. 

Jlonmouth  being  edified  by  Tyndale's  sermons,  in- 
quired iuto  his  means  of  living.  "  I  have  none," 
reidied  he;  "but  I  hope  to  enter  into  the  bishop's 
ser\ice.''  "This  was  before  his  visit  to  Tonstall.  AVhen 
Tyndalo  saw  all  his  hopes  frustrated,  he  went  to  Mon- 
mouth and  told  him  cveiythiug.  "  Come  and  live  with 
me,"  said  the  wealthy  merchant,  "  and  there  labour." 
God  did  to  Tyudale  according  to  his  faith.  Simple, 
frugal,  devoted  to  work,  he  studied  night  and  day; 
and,  wishing  to  guard  his  mind  against  "  being  over- 
charged with  surfeiting,"  he  refused  the  delicacies  of 
his  patron's  table,  and  would  take  nothing  but  sodden 
meat  and  small  beer.  It  would  even  seem  that  he 
carried  simplicity  in  dress  almost  too  far.  By  his 
conversation  and  his  works,  he  shed  over  the  house 
of  his  patron  the  mild  light  of  the  Christian  virtues,  [ 
and  Monmouth  loved  him  more  and  more  every  day. 

Tyndale  was  advancing  in  his  work,  when  John 
Fryth,  the  mathematician  of  King's  College,  Cam- 
bridge, arrived  in  London.  It  is  probable  that  Tyndale, 
feeling  the  want  of  an  associate,  had  i ::vited  him. 
United  like  Luther  and  Melancthon,  the  two  friends 
held  many  precious  conversations  together  "  I  will 
consecrate  my  life  wholly  to  the  Church  of  Jesus 
Christ,"  said  Fryth.  "  To  be  a  good  man,  you  must 
give  great  part  of  yourself  to  your  parents,  a  greater 
part  to  your  countiy;  but  the  greatest  of  all  to  the 
Church  of  the  Lord."  "  The  people  shoidd  know  the 
AVord  of  God,"  they  said  both.  "  The  interpretation 
of  the  Gospel,  without  the  intervention  of  councils  or 
popes,  is  sufficient  to  create  a  saving  faith  in  the  heart." 
They  shut  themselves  up  in  the  little  room  in  Mon- 
mouth's house,  and  translated  chapter  after  chapter 
from  the  Greek  into  plain  English.  The  Bishop  of 
London  knew  notliing  of  the  work  going  on  a  few 
yards  from  him ;  and  everything  was  succeeding  to 
Tyndale's  wishes  when  it  was  interrupted  by  an  im- 
foreseen  cii-cumstance. 

Longland,  the  persecutor  of  the  Lincolnsliire  Chris- 
tians, did  not  confine  his  activity  within  the  limits 
of  his  diocese ;  he  besieged  the  king,  the  cardinal,  and 
the  queen,  with  his  cruel  importunities,  using  "Wolsey's 
inlhience  with  Henry,  and  Henry's  with  Wolsey. 
"His  majesty,"  he  wrote  to  the  cardinal,  "shews  in 
this  holy  dispute  as  much  goodness  as  zeal,  .  .  .  yet, 
be  pleased  to  urge  him  to  overthrow  God's  enemies." 
And  then  turning  to  the  king,  the  confessor  said,  to 
spur  him  on ;  "  The  cardinal  is  about  to  fulminate 
the  greater  excommunication  against  all  who  possess 
Luther's  works  or  hold  his  opinions ;  and  to  make  the 
booksellei-s  sign  a  bond  before  the  magistrates,  not  to 
sell  heretical  books."  "  Wonderful ! "  replied  Heniy 
with  a  sneer,  "  they  will  fear  the  magisterial  bond,  I 
think,  more  than  the  clerical  excommunication."  And 
yet  the  consequences  of  the  "  clerical "  excommuni- 
cation were  to  be  very  positive .  whosoever  persevered  j 
in  his  offence  was  to  be  pursued  by  the  law  ad  ignem, 
even  to  the  fire.     At  last  the  confessor  applied  to  tho 

2s 


HISTORY  OP  THE  REFORMATION. 


queen  :  "  We  cannot  be  sure  of  rcstraiuiug  the  press," 
lie  said  to  her.  "  These  wretched  books  come  to  iis 
from  Germany,  France,  and  the  Low  Countries ;  and 
are  even  printed  iu  the  veiy  midst  of  us.  Madam,  we 
must  train  and  prepare  skilful  men,  such  as  are  able 
to  discuss  the  controverted  points,  so  that  the  laity, 
struck  on  the  one  hand  by  weU  developed  arguments, 
and  frightened  by  the  fear  of  punishment  on  the  other, 
may  be  kept  iu  obedience."  In  the  bishop's  system, 
"  fire "  was  to  bo  the  complement  of  Roman  learning. 
The  essential  idea  of  Jesuitism  is  already  visible  iu 
this  conception  of  Hemy  the  Eiglith's  confessor.  That 
system  is  the  natural  development  of  Eomanism. 

TonstaU,  nrged  forward  by  Longland,  and  desirous 
of  shewing  himself  as  holy  a  churchman  as  he  had 
once  been  a  skilful  statesman  and  elegant  scholar — 
TonstaU,  the  friend  of  Erasmus,  began  to  persecute. 
He  would  have  feared  to  shed  blood,  like  Longland ; 
but  there  are  measures  which  torture  the  mind  and  not 
the  body,  and  which  the  most  moderate  men  fear  not 
to  make  use  of.  John  Iliggins,  Hemy  Chambers, 
Thomas  Eaglestone,  a  priest  named  Edmund  Spilman, 
and  some  other  Christians  in  Londou,  used  to  meet 
and  read  portions  of  the  Bible  in  English ;  and  even 
asserted  pulili<-!v,  that  "Luther  had  more  learning  in 
his  lililr  liii->  r  'ili:iu  iiU  the  doctors  in  England."  The 
bisliop  c.rili-nil  llir,e  rebels  to  be  arrested:  he  flattered 
and  ulanuL'd  thuia,  threatening  them  with  a  cruel  death, 
(which  he  would  hardly  have  inflicted  on  them,)  and 
by  these  skilful  practices  reduced  them  to  silence. 

Tyndale,  who  witnessed  this  persecution,  feared  lest 
the  stake  should  interrupt  his  labour.  If  those  who 
read  a  few  fragments  of  Scripture  are  threatened  with 
death,  what  will  he  not  have  to  endure  who  is  tran- 
slating the  whole  ?  His  friends  entreated  him  to  with- 
draw from  the  bishop's  pursuit.  "Alas !"  he  exclaimed, 
"is  there  then  no  place  where  I  can  translate  the 
Bible!  .  .  .  It  Ls  not  the  bishop's  house  alone 
that  is  closed  against  me,  but  all  England." 

He  then  made  a  great  sacrifice.  Since  there  is  no 
place  in  his  own  countiy  where  he  can  translate  the 
Word  of  God,  he  will  go  and  seek  one  among  tlie 
nations  of  tlie  Continent.  It  is  true  the  people  are 
unknown  to  him ;  he  is  without  resources ;  perhaps 
persecution,  and  even  death,  await  him  there.  .  .  . 
It  matters  not!  some  time  must  elapse  before  it  is 
known  what  he  is  doing;  and  perliaps  he  will  have 
been  able  to  translate  the  Bible.  He  turned  his  eyes 
towards  Germany.  "  God  does  not  destine  us  to  a 
quiet  life  here  below,"  he  said.  "  If  He  calls  us  to 
peace  on  the  part  of  Jesus  Christ,  He  calls  us  to  war 
on  the  part  of  the  world." 

There  lay  at  that  moment  in  the  river  Thames  a 
vessel  loading  for  Hamburg.  Monmouth  gave  Tyn- 
dale ten  pounds  sterling  for  his  voyage,  and  other 
friends  contributed  a  like  amount.  He  left  the  half  of 
this  sum  in  the  hands  of  his  benefactor,  to  provide  for 
his  future  wants,  and  prepared  to  quit  London,  where 
he  had  spent  a  year.  Rejected  by  Iiis  fellow-country- 
men, persecuted  by  the  clergy,  and  carrying  witli  him 
only  his  New  Testament  and  his  ten  pounds,  he  went 
on  board  the  ship,  shaking  off  the  dust  of  liis  feet,  ac- 
cording to  his  Master's  precept ;  and  that  dust  fell  back 
on  the  priests  of  England.    He  was  indignant  (says  the 


chronicler)  against  those  coarse  monks,  covetous  priests, 
and  pompous  prelates,  who  were  waging  an  impious 
war  against  God.  "AVhat  a  trade  is  that  of  the 
priests ! "  he  said  in  one  of  his  later  writings ;  "  they 
want  money  for  everything:  money  for  baptism, 
money  for  churchings,  for  weddings,  for  buryings,  for 
images,  brotherhoods,  penances,  soul-masses,  bells, 
organs,  chalices,  copes,  surplices,  ewers,  censers,  and 
all  manner  of  ornaments.  Poor  sheep !  The  parson 
shears,  the  vicar  shaves,  the  parish  priest  polls,  the 
friar  scrapes,  the  indulgence  seller  pares  .  .  .  all 
that  you  want  is  a  butcher  to  flay  you  and  take  away 
your  skin.  He  will  not  leave  you  long.  AVhy  are 
your  prelates  dressed  in  red  ?  Because  they  are  ready 
to  shed  the  blood  of  whomsoever  seeketh  the  Word  of 
God.  Scourge  of  states,  devastators  of  kingdoms,  the 
priests  take  aw.ay  not  only  Holy  Scripture,  but  also 
prosperity  and  peace ;  but  of  then-  councils  is  no  lay- 
man; reigning  over  all,  they  obey  nobody;  and  making 
all  concur  to  their  own  greatness,  they  conspire  against 
every  kingdom." 

No  kingdom  was  to  be  more  familiar  than  England 
with  the  conspiracies  of  the  papacy  of  which  Tyndale 
spoke ;  and  yet  none  was  to  free  itself  more  irrevocably 
from  the  power  of  Rome. 

Yet  Tyndale  was  leaving  the  shores  of  his  native 
land,  and,  as  he  turned  his  eyes  towards  the  new 
countries,  hope  revived  in  his  heart.  He  was  going  to 
be  free ;  and  he  would  use  his  liberty  to  deliver  the 
Word  of  God,  so  long  held  captive.  "  The  priests,"  he 
said  one  day,  "  when  they  had  slain  Christ,  set  pole- 
axes  to  keep  Him  iu  His  sepulchre,  that  He  should 
not  rise  .again ;  even  so  have  our  priests  buried  the 
Testament  of  God,  and  all  their  study  is  to  keep  it 
down,  that  it  rise  not  again.  But  the  hour  of  the  Lord 
is  come,  and  nothing  can  hinder  the  AVord  of  God,  as 
nothing  could  hinder  Jesus  Christ  of  old  from  issuing 
from  the  tomb."  Indeed  that  poor  man,  then  sailing 
towards  Germany,  was  to  send  back,  even  from  the 
banks  of  the  Elbe,  the  eternal  Gospel  to  his  country- 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Biluej'  at  Cambridge— Conversions— Tlie  University  Cross-bearer — A  Leices- 
tersliire  Farmer— A  Party  of  Students— Superstitious  Practices— An 
Obstinate  Papist— Tlie  Sophists— Latimer  attacks  Stafford— Bilney's 
Resolution— Latimer  hears  Bilney's  Confession— Confessor  Converted— 
New  Life  in  Latimer— Bilney  Preaches  Grace — Nature  of  the  Ministry — 
Latimer's  Cliaracter  and  Teaching- Works  of  Charity— Three  Classes  of 
Adversaries— Clark  and  Dalaber. 

This  ship  did  not  bear  away  all  the  hopes  of  England. 
A  society  of  Christians  had  been  foi-med  at  Cambridge, 
of  which  Bilney  was  the  centre.  He  now  knew  no 
other  canon  law  than  Scripture,  and  had  found  a  new 
master,  "  the  Holy  Spirit  of  Christ,"  says  an  historian. 
Although  he  was  naturally  timid,  and  often  suffered 
from  the  exhaustion  brought  on  by  his  fasts  and  vigils, 
there  was  in  his  language  a  life,  liberty,  and  strength, 
strikingly  in  contrast  with  his  sickly  appearance.  He 
desired  to  draw  to  the  knowledge  of  God  all  who  came 


A  LEICESTERSHIRE  FARMER. 


nigli  him ;  and  by  degrees,  the  rays  of  the  Gospel  sun, 
wliich  was  tiioii  rising  in  the  firmament  of  Christen- 
dom, pierced  tlie  ancient  windows  of  the  colleges,  and 
iihimiuated  tlie  solitary  chambers  of  certain  of  the 
masters  auj  fellows.  Master  Arthnr,  Master  Tliistlc 
of  Pembroke  Hall,  and  Master  Stafford,  were  among 
the  first  to  join  Bilney.  G  corge  Stafford,  jirofessor  of 
divinity,  was  a  man  of  deep  learning  and  holy  life, 
clc.  r  and  precise  in  his  teaching.  He  was  admired  by 
every  one  in  Cambridge,  so  that  his  conversion,  lilce 
that  of  his  friends,  spread  alarm  among  the  partisans 
of  the  schoolmen,  lint  a  conversion  still  more  striking 
than  this  was  destined  to  give  the  English  Eeforma- 
■  tion  a  champion  more  illustrious  than  either  Stafford 
or  Bilney. 

There  was  in  Cambridge,  at  that  time,  a  priest  noto- 
rious for  his  ardent  fanaticism.  In  the  processions, 
amidst  the  pomp,  prayers,  and  chanting  of  the  train, 
none  could  fail  to  notice  a  master-of-arts,  about  thirty 
years  of  age,  who,  with  erect  head,  carried  proudly  the 
university  cross.  Hugh  Latimer,  for  such  was  his 
name,  combined  a  bitiug  humour  with  an  impetuous 
disposition  and  indefatigable  zeal,  and  was  very  quick 
in  ridiculing  tlie  faults  of  his  adversaries.  There  was 
more  wit  and  raillery  in  his  fanaticism  than  can  often 
be  found  in  such  characters.  He  followed  the  friends 
of  the  AVord  of  God  into  the  colleges  and  houses  where 
they  used  to  meet,  debated  with  them,  and  pressed 
them  to  abandon  their  faith.  He  was  a  second  Saul, 
and  was  soon  to  resemble  the  apostle  of  the  Gentiles 
in  another  respect. 

He  first  saw  light  in  the  year  1491,  in  the  county  of 
Leicester.  Hugh's  father  was  an  honest  yeoinau  ;  and, 
accompanied  by  one  of  his  six  sisters,  the  little  boy 
had  often  tended  in  the  pastures  the  five  score  sheep 
belonging  to  the  farm,  or  driven  home  to  his  mother 
the  thirty  cows  it  was  her  busiuess  to  milk.  In  1497, 
the  Cornish  rebels,  under  Lord  Audley,  having  en- 
camped at  Blackheath,  our  farmer  had  donned  his 
rusty  armour,  and  mounting  his  horse,  responded  to 
the  summons  of  the  crown.  Hugh,  then  only  six  years 
old,  was  present  at  his  departure,  and  as  if  he  had 
wished  to  take  his  little  part  in  the  battle,  he  had 
buckled  the  straps  of  his  father's  armour.  Fifty-two 
years  afterwards  he  recalled  this  circumstance  to  mind, 
in  a  sermon  preached  before  King  Edward.  His 
father's  house  was  always  open  to  the  neighbours ;  and 
no  poor  man  ever  turned  away  from  the  door  without 
having  received  alms.  The  old  man  brought  up  his 
family  in  the  love  of  men  and  in  the  fear  of  God,  and 
having  remarked  with  joy  the  precocious  understanding 
of  his  son,  he  had  him  educated  in  the  country  schools, 
and  then  sent  to  Cambridge  at  the  age  of  fourteen. 
This  was  in  1505,  just  as  Luther  was  entering  the 
Augustine  convent. 

The  sou  of  the  Leicestershire  yeoman  was  lively, 
fond  of  pleasure,  and  of  cheerful  couTersation,  and 
mingled  frequently  in  the  amusements  of  his  fellow- 
students.  One  day,  as  they  were  dining  together,  one 
of  the  party  exclaimed  :  Xil  melius  qiiam  Lctari  et  faccre 
bene.' — "  There  is  nothing  better  than  to  be  merry  and 
to  do  well." — "A  vengeance  on  that  bene!"  replied  a 
monk  of  impudent  mien  ;  "  I  wish  it  were  beyond  the 
sea ;  it  mars  all  the  rest."     Young  Latimer  was  much 


surprised  at  the  remark  :  "  I  imderstand  it  now,"  said 
he ;  "  that  will  be  a  heavy  bene  to  these  monks  when 
they  liave  to  render  God  an  account  of  their  lives." 

Latimer  having  become  more  serious,  threw  himself 
heart  and  soul  into  the  practices  of  superstition,  and  a 
very  bigoted  old  cousin  imdertook  to  instruct  him  in 
them.  One  day,  when  one  of  their  relations  lay  dead, 
she  said  to  him  :  "  Now  we  must  drive  out  the  devil. 
Take  this  holy  taper,  my  child,  and  pass  it  over  the 
body,  first  longways  and  then  athwart,  so  as  always  to 
make  the  sign  of  the  cross." 

But  the  scholar  performing  this  exorcism  very  awk- 
wardly, his  aged  cousin  snatched  the  candle  from  his 
hand,  exclaiming  angrily:  "It's  a  great  pity  your 
father  spends  so  much  money  on  your  studies :  he  will 
never  make  anything  of  you." 

This  prophecy  was  not  fulfilled.  He  became  Fellow 
of  Clare  Hall  in  150'J,  and  took  his  niixster's  degree  in 
1514.  His  classical  studies  being  ended,  he  begau  to 
study  divinity.  Duns  Scotus,  Aquinas,  and  Hugo  de 
Saiicto  Yictore,  were  his  favourite  authors.  The 
practical  side  of  things,  however,  eugaged  him  more 
than  the  speculative ;  and  he  was  more  distinguished 
in  Cambridge  for  his  asceticism  and  enthusiasm  than 
for  his  learning.  He  attached  importance  to  the  merest 
trifles.  As  the  missal  directs  that  water  should  be 
mingled  with  the  sacramental  wine,  often  while  saying 
mass  he  would  be  troubled  in  his  conscience  for  fear 
he  had  not  put  su/Jicieiit  u-ater.  This  remorse  never 
left  him  a  moment's  tranquility  during  the  service.  In 
him,  as  in  many  others,  attachment  to  puerile  ordi- 
nances occupied  in  his  heart  the  place  of  faith  in  the 
great  truths.  With  him,  the  cause  of  the  church  was 
the  cause  of  God,  and  he  respected  Thomas  a  Becket 
at  least  as  much  as  St.  Paul.  "  I  was  then,"  said  ho, 
"as  obstmate  a  papist  as  any  in  England."  Luther 
said  the  same  thing  of  himself. 

The  fervent  Latimer  soon  observed  that  everybody 
around  him  was  not  equally  zealous  with  himself  for 
the  ceremonies  of  the  church.  He  watched  with  sur- 
prise certain  young  members  of  the  university  who, 
forsaking  the  doctors  of  the  School,  met  daily  to  read 
and  search  into  the  Holy  Scriptures.  People  sneered 
at  them  in  Cambridge :  "  It  is  only  the  sophists,"  was 
the  cry;  but  raillery  was  not  enough  for  Latimer. 
One  day  he  entered  the  room  where  these  sophists 
were  assembled,  and  begged  them  to  cease  studying 
the  Bible.  All  his  entreaties  were  useless.  Can  we 
be  astonished  at  it?  said  Latimer  to  himself.  Don't 
we  see  even  the  tutors  setting  an  example  to  these 
stray  sheep  ?  There  is  Master  Stafford,  the  most  illus- 
trious professor  in  English  universities,  devoting  his 
time  ad  Biblici,  like  Luther  at  "Wittemberg,  and  ex- 
plaining the  Scriptures  according  to  the  Hebrew  and 
Greek  texts !  and  the  dcUghted  students  celebrate  in 
bad  verse  the  doctor. 

Qui  rauhnn  cx^lkui'  jife  el  evangcUum.l 

That  young  people  should  occupy  themselves  with 
these  new  doctrines,  was  conceivable,  but  that  a  doctor 
of  divinity  should  do  so — what  a  disgrace !  Latimer 
therefore  determined  to  attack  Stafford.  He  insulted 
him ;  he  entreated  the  youth  of  Cambridge  to  abandon 
the  professor  and  his  heretical  teaching ;  he  attended 

1  Who  has  cxiilaincd  to  us  the  true  sense  of  St.  Paul  aud  of  the  Gosiiel. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


the  hall  in  which  the  doctor  taught,  made  signs  of 
impatience  during  the  lesson,  and  cavilled  at  it  after 
leaving  the  school.  He  even  preached  in  public  against 
the  learned  doctor.  But  it  seemed  to  him  that  Cam- 
bridge and  England  were  struck  bliud :  true,  the  clergy- 
approved  of  Latimer's  proceedings — nay,  praised  them  ; 
and  yet  they  did  nothing.  To  console  him,  however, 
he  was  named  cross-bearer  to  the  university,  and  we 
have  already  seen  him  discharging  this  duty. 

Latimer  desired  to  sliew  himself  worthy  of  such  an 
honour  He  had  left  the  students  to  attack  Stafford ; 
and  he  now  left  Stafford  for  a  more  illustrious  adver- 
sary. But  this  attack  led  him  to  some  one  that  was 
stronger  than  he.  At  the  occasion  of  receiving  the 
degree  of  bachelor  of  divinity,  ho  had  to  deliver  a  Latin 
discourse  in  the  presence  of  the  university;  Latimer 


chose  for  his  subject  Philip  Melanclhon  and  his  doc- 
trines. Had  not  this  daring  heretic  presumed  to  say 
quite  recently  that  the  Fathers  of  the  Church  have 
altered  the  sense  of  Scripture  ?  Had  he  not  asserted 
that,  like  those  rocks  whose  various  colours  are  im- 
parted to  the  polypus  wliich  clings  to  them,  so  the 
doctors  of  the  Church  give  each  their  own  opinion  in 
the  passages  they  explain  ?  And,  finally,  had  he  not 
discovered  a  new  touchstone  (it  is  thus  he  styles  the 
Holy  Scripture)  by  which  we  must  test  the  sentences 
even  of  St.  Thomas  ? 

Latimer's  discourse  made  a  great  impression.  At 
last  (said  his  hearers)  Eugland,  nay  Cambridge,  will 
furnish  a  champion  for  the  church  that  will  confront 
the  Wittemberg  doctors,  and  save  the  vessel  of  our 
Lord.  But  very  different  was  to  be  the  result.  There 
was  among  the  hearers  one  man,  almost  hidden  through 
his  small  stature :  it  was  Bilney.  For  some  time  he 
had  been  watching  Latimer's  movements ;  and  his  zeal 
interested  him,  though  it  was  a  zeal  without  knowledge. 
His  energy  was  not  great,  but  he  possessed  a  delicate 


tact,  a  skilful  discernment  of  character,  which  enabled 
him  to  distinguish  error,  and  to  select  the  fittest 
method  for  combating  it.  Accordingly,  a  chronicler 
styles  him  "  a  trier  of  Satan's  subtleties,  appointed  by 
God  to  detect  the  bad  money  that  the  enemy  was  circu- 
lating throughout  the  church."  Bilney  easily  detected 
Latimer's  sophisms,  but  at  the  same  time  loved  his 
person,  and  conceived  the  design  of  winning  him  to 
the  Gospel.  But  how  to  manage  it?  The  prejudiced 
Latimer  woidd  not  even  listen  to  the  evangelical 
Bilney.  The  latter  reflected,  prayed,  and  at  last 
planned  a  very  candid  and  very  strange  plot,  which 
led  to  one  of  the  most  astonishing  conversions  recorded 
in  history. 

He  went  to  the  college  where  Latimer  resided.  "For 
the  love  of  God,"  he  said  to  him,  "  be  pleased  to  hear 
my  confession."  Tlie  heretic  prayed  to  make  confession 
to  the  catholic :  what  a  singular  fact !  My  discourse 
against  Melancthon  has,  no  doubt,  converted  him,  said 
Latimer  to  himself.  Had  not  Bilney  once  been  among 
the  number  of  the  most  pious  zealots?  His  pale  face, 
his  wasted  frame,  and  his  humble  look,  are  clear  signs 
that  he  ought  to  belong  to  the  ascetics  of  Catholicism. 
If  he  turns  back,  all  will  turn  back  with  him,  and  the 
reaction  will  be  complete  at  Cambridge.  The  ardent 
Latimer  eagerly  yielded  to  Bilney 's  request,  and  the 
latter,  kneeling  before  the  cross-bearer,  related  to  him 
with  touching  simplicity  the  anguish  he  had  once  felt 
in  his  soul,  the  efforts  he  had  made  to  remove  it ; 
their  unprofitableness  so  long  as  he  determined  to  fol- 
low the  precepts  of  the  church ;  and,  lastly,  the  peace 
he  had  felt  when  he  believed  that  Jesus  Clu-ist  is  the 
Lamb  of  God  that  taketh  away  the  sins  of  the  ivoj-ld.  He 
described  to  Latimer  the  spirit  of  adoption  he  had 
received,  and  the  happiness  he  exjierienced  in  being 
able  now  to  call  God  his  Father.  .  .  .  Latimer, 
who  expected  to  receive  a  confession,  listened  without 
mistrust.  His  heart  was  opened,  and  the  voice  of  the 
pious  Bilney  penetrated  it  without  obstacle.  From 
time  to  time  the  confessor  would  have  chased  away  the 
new  thoughts  which  came  crowding  into  his  bosom ; 
but  the  penitent  continued.  His  language,  at  once  so 
sinqilc  and  so  lively,  entered  like  a  two-edged  sword. 
Bilney  was  not  without  assistance  in  his  work.  A 
new,  a  strange  witness, — the  Holy  Ghost, — was  speak- 
ing in  Latimer's  soul.  He  learned  from  God  to  know 
God:  he  received  a  new  heart.  At  length  grace  pre- 
vailed :  the  penitent  rose  up,  but  Latuuer  remained 
seated,  absorbed  in  thought.  The  strong  cross-bearer 
contended  in  vain  against  the  words  of  the  feeble 
Bilney.  Like  Saul,  on  the  way  to  Damascus,  he  was 
conquered ;  and  his  conversion,  like  the  Apostle's,  was 
instantaneous.  He  stammered  out  a  few  words  :  Bilney 
drew  near  him  with  love,  and  God  scattered  the  dark- 
ness which  still  obscured  his  mind.  He  saw  Jesus 
Christ  as  the  only  >Saviour  given  to  man :  he  contem- 
plated and  adored  Him.  "  I  learnt  more  by  this  con- 
fession," he  said  aftcnvards,  "  than  by  much  reading, 
and  in  many  years  before.  ...  I  now  tasted  the 
Word  of  God,  and  forsook  the  doctors  of  the  school, 
and  all  their  fooleries."  It  was  not  the  penitent  but 
the  confessor  who  received  absolution.  Latimer  viewed 
with  horror  the  obstinate  war  he  had  waged  against 
God;   he  wept    bitterly;    but  Bilney   consoled    him, 


THE  CONFESSOR  CONVERTED. 


"  Brother,"  said  ho,  "  tJioiir/7i  t/oiir  sins  be  as  scarlet,  t/ici/ 
shall  be  white  as  snoiv."  These  two  young  men,  then 
locked  in  their  solitary  chamber  at  Cambriilij;e,  were  one 
(lay  to  monnt  the  se;itTolcl  for  that  Divine  Master  whoso 
Spirit  was  iiM.IiiiiL'  iliriii.  But  one  of  them,  before  go- 
ing to  the  >i;iki',  w  :i^  iii>t  to  sit  on  an  episcopal  throne. 

Latimer  was  ehaii;;iil.  The  energy  of  his  cliaracter 
was  tempered  by  a  Divine  unction.  Becoming  a 
believer,  he  had  ceased  to  be  superstitious.  Instead  of 
persecuting  Jesus  Christ,  he  became  a  zealous  seeker 
after  Ilim.  Instead  of  cavilling  and  railing,  he  shewed 
himself  meek  and  gentle ;  instead  of  frequenting  com- 
pany, ho  sought  solitude,  studying  the  Scriptures  and 
advancing  in  true  theology.  He  throw  off  the  old  man 
an<l  |)ut  on  the  new.  He  waited  upon  Stafford,  begged 
forgi\eness  for  the  insult  he  had  offered  him,  and  tlieu 
regularly  attended  his  lectures,  being  subjugated  more 
by  this  doctor's  angelic  conversation  than  by  his  learn- 
ing. But  it  was  Bilney's  society  Latimer  cultivated 
most.  They  cohmi-mmI  luL^.tlar  dally,  took  fre(piont 
walks  together  inlo  the  ciniiiliN,  ami  nccasionally  rested 
at  a  place  long  knuwn  as  •■  ihc  ii.riiii's  hill." 

So  striking  a  eonversiim  gave  fresli  vigour  to  the 
evangelical  movement.  Hitherto  Bilney  and  Latimer 
had  been  the  most  zealous  champions  of  tho  two  oppo- 
site causes — the  one  despised,  the  other  honoured  ;  tho 
weak  man  had  conquered  the  strong.  This  action  of 
the  Spirit  of  God  was  not  thrown  away  upon  Cambridge. 
Latimer's  conversion,  as  of  old  tho  miracles  of  the 
Apostles,  struck  nirirs  iiiimls  ;  and  was  it  not,  in  truth, 
a  miracle  ?  All  tin'  ymith  nl'  (lie  university  ran  to  hear 
Bilney  preach,  lie  piciclainird  "Jesus  Christ  as  He 
who,  having  tasted  death,  has  delivered  His  people 
from  the  penalty  of  sin."  While  tho  doctors  of  the 
school  (even  the  most  pious  of  them)  laid  most  stress 
upon  man's  part  in  the  work  of  redemption,  Bihiey,  on 
the  coutraiy,  emphasized  the  other  terra,  namely,  God's 
part.  This  doctrine  of  grace,  said  his  adversaries,  an- 
nuls the  sacraments,  and  contradicts  baptismal  regene- 
ration. The  selfishness  which  forms  the  essence  of 
fallen  humanity  rejected  the  evangelical  doctrine,  and 
felt  that  to  aeeei)t  it  was  to  be  lost.  "  Many  listened 
with  the  left  ear,"  to  use  an  expression  of  Bilney's ;  "  like 
Malehus,  having  their  riyht  ear  cutoff;"  and  they  filled 
the  university  with  their  complaints. 

But  Bilney  did  not  allow  himself  to  be  stopped.  The 
idea  of  eternity  had  seized  on  his  mind,  and,  perhaps, 
he  still  retained  some  feeble  relic  of  the  exaggerations  of 
asceticism.  Ho  condemned  every  kind  of  recreation, 
even  when  innocent.  Music  in  the  churches  seemed  to 
him  a  mockery  of  God ;  and  when  Thurlby,  who  was 
afterwards  a  bishop,  and  who  lived  at  Cambridge  in 
the  room  below  his,  used  to  begin  playing  on  the 
recorder,  BUncy  would  fall  on  his  knees  and  pour  out 
his  soul  in  prayer :  to  him  prayer  was  the  sweetest 
melody.  He  prayed  that  tho  lively  faith  of  the  chil- 
dren of  God  might,  in  all  England,  be  substituted  for 
the  vanity  and  pride  of  the  priests.  He  believed — ho 
prayed — ho  waited.     His  waiting  was  not  to  be  in  vain. 

Latimer  trod  in  his  footsteps  :  tho  transformation  of 
his  soul  was  going  on ;  and  the  more  fanaticism  ho  had 
shewn  for  the  sacerdotal  system,  which  places  salvation 
in  the  hands  of  tho  priest,  the  more  zeal  he  now  shewed 
for  the  evangelical  system,  which  placed  it  in  the  hands 


of  Christ.  He  saw  thai  if  the  churches  must  needs 
have  ministers,  it  is  imi  linaii  .•  ihry  require  a  human 
mediation,  but  from  the  n.c.  ,,-iiv  ..f  a  regular  preach- 
ing of  tho  Gospel,  and  a  slea.iy  direction  of  the  tiock ; 
and,  accordingly,  ho  would  have  wished  to  call  tho  ser- 
vant of  tho  Lord  minister,  (iir7jp(T?)s  or  SiaKoyos  toD  \6yov,) 
and  not  priest,  (/f/icu?  or  facfrdos.)  In  his  view,  it  was 
not  tho  imposii;,,ii  ,,{  hands  by  the  bishop  that  gave 
grace,  but  grare  wlii.h  aulliorized  the  imposition  of 
hands.  He  coii-i.Krcd  atti\  ity  to  bo  one  of  the  essen- 
tial features  of  the  Gospel  ministiy.  "Would  you 
know,"  said  he,  "  why  the  Lord  chose  fishermen  to  be 
His  Apostles  ?  .  .  .  See  how  they  watch  day  and 
night  at  their  nets  to  take  all  such  fishes  that  they  can 
got  and  come  in  their  way.  ...  So  all  our  bishops, 
and  curates,  and  vicars,  shoidd  be  as  painfid  in  casting 
their  nets, — that  is  to  say,  in  preaching  God's  Word." 
Ho  regarded  all  confidence  in  human  strength  as  a 
remnant  of  paganism.  "  Lot  us  not  do,"  he  said,  "  as 
the  hatighty  Ajax,  who  said  to  his  father,  as  he  wont 
to  battle :  Without  the  help  of  God  I  am  able  to  fight, 
and  I  will  get  the  victory  with  mine  own  strength." 

Tho  Reformation  had  gained  in  Latimer  a  veiy 
different  man  from  Bilney.  Ho  had  not  so  much  dis- 
cernment and  prudence  perhaps,  but  he  had  more 
energy  and  eloquence.  What  Tyndalo  was  to  be  for 
England  by  his  i\Titiugs,  Latimer  was  to  be  by  his 
discourses.  The  tenderness  of  his  conscience,  the 
warmth  of  his  zeal,  and  tho  vivacity  of  his  under- 
standing, were  enlisted  in  the  service  of  Jesus  Christ ; 
and  if  at  times  ho  was  carried  too  far  by  the  liveliness 
of  his  wit,  it  only  shews  that  the  reformers  were  not 
saints,  but  sanctified  men.  "  Ho  was  one  of  the  first," 
says  an  historian,  "  who,  in  the  days  of  King  Henry 
VUL,  set  himself  to  preach  the  Gospel  in  the  truth 
and  simplicity  of  it."  He  preached  in  Latin,  ad  denim, 
and  in  English,  ad  popxilum.  He  boldly  placed  the  law 
with  its  curses  before  his  hearers ;  aud  then  conjm-od 
thorn  to  flee  towards  the  Saviour  of  the  world.  The 
same  zeal  which  ho  had  employed  in  saying  mass,  he 
now  employed  in  preaching  the  true  sacrifice  of  Christ. 
He  said  one  day :  "  If  one  man  had  committed  all  the 
sins  since  Adam,  you  may  be  sure  he  should  be 
punished  with  the  same  horror  of  death,  in  such  a 
sort,  as  all  men  in  tho  world  should  have  suffered. 
.  .  .  Such  was  the  pain  Christ  endured.  .  .  . 
If  our  Saviour  had  committed  all  the  sins  of  the  world; 
all  that  I  for  my  part  have  done,  all  that  you  for  your 
part  have  done,  and  all  that  any  man  else  hath  done ; 
if  lie  had  done  all  this  himself.  His  agony  that  Ho 
suffered  should  have  been  no  greater  nor  gi'iovouser 
than  it  was.  .  .  .  Believe  in  Jesus  Christ,  and 
you  shall  overcome  death.  .  .  .  But,  alas !"  said 
he,  at  another  time,  "the  devil,  by  the  help  of  that 
Italian  bishop,  his  chaplain,  has  laboured  by  all  moans 
that  ho  might  frustrate  the  death  of  Christ  aud  the 
merits  of  His  passion." 

Thus  began  in  British  Christendom  the  preaching 
of  tho  Cross.  The  Reformation  was  not  the  substitu- 
tion of  tho  Catholicism  of  the  First  Ages  for  the  Popciy 
of  tho  Middle  Ages  :  it  was  a  revival  of  the  preaching 
of  St.  Paul ;  and  thus  it  was,  that  on  hearing  Latimer, 
every  one  exclaimed  with  raptui-e :  "  Of  a  Saul,  God 
has  made  him  a  very  Paul." 


HISTOPvY  OF  THE  REFOEMATION. 


To  the  inward  power  of  faith  the  Cambridge  evan- 
gelists added  the  outward  power  of  the  life.  Saul 
become  Paid,  the  strong,  the  ardent  Latimer,  had  need 
of  action  ;  and  Biluey,  the  weak  and  humble  Bilney, 
in  delicate  health,  observing  a  severe  tliet,  taking 
ordinarily  but  one  meal  a-day,  and  never  sleeping  more 
than  four  hours,  absorbed  in  prayer  and  in  the  study 
of  the  Word,  displayed  at  that  time  all  the  energy 
of  charity.  These  two  friends  devoted  themselves  not 
merely  to  the  easy  labours  of  Christian  beneficence; 
but  caring  little  for  that  formal  Clu-istianity  so  often 
met  with  among  the  easy  classes,  they  explored  the 
gloomy  cells  of  the  madhouse,  to  bear  the  sweet  and 
subtle  voice  of  the  Gospel  to  the  infuriate  maniacs. 
They  visited  the  miserable  lazar-housc  without  the 
town,  in  which  several  poor  lepers  were  dwelling ; 
they  carefully  tended  them,  wrapped  them  in  clean 
sheets,  and  wooed  them  to  be  converted  to  Christ. 
The  gates  of  the  jail  at  Cambridge  wore  oj>ened  to 
them  ;  and  they  annoimced  to  the  poor  prisoners  that 
word  which  giveth  liberty.  Some  were  converted  by 
it,  and  longed  for  the  day  of  their  execution.  Latimer, 
afterwards  bishoj)  of  AVorcester,  was  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  types  of  the  Reformation  in  England. 

lie  -was  opposed  by  uumex-ous  adversaries.  In  the 
front  rank  were  the  priests,  who  spai'ed  no  endeavours 
to  retain  souls.  "  Beware,"  said  Latimer  to  the  new 
converts,  "  lest  robbers  overtake  you,  and  plunge  you 
into  the  pope's  prison  of  purgatory."  After  these  came 
the  sons  and  favourites  of  the  aristocracy,  worldly  and 
frivolous  students,  who  felt  little  disposition  to  listen 
to  the  Gospel.  "By  yeoman's  sons  the  faith  of  Christ 
is  and  luith  been  chiefly  maintained  in  the  Church," 
Slid  Latiini-i-.  "Is  this  realm  taught  by  rich  men's 
sous .-  No,  no ;  read  the  chronicles ;  ye  shall  find 
sometime  noblemen's  sons  which  have  been  impreach- 
ing  bishops  and  prelates ;  but  ye  shall  find  none  of 
them  learned  men."  He  would  have  desired  a  mode 
of  election  which  placed  in  the  Chi'istian  puli)it,  not 
the  richest  and  most  fashionable  men,  but  the  ablest 
and  most  pious.  This  important  reform  was  reserved 
for  other  days.  Lastly,  the  evangelists  of  Cambridge 
came  into  collision  with  the  hrutalitij  of  many,  to  use 
Latimer's  own  expression.  "What  need  have  we  of 
universities  and  schools?"  said  the  students  of  this 
class.  The  Holy  Ghost  "will  give  us  always  what 
to  say." — "  We  must  trust  in  the  Holy  Ghost,"  replied 
Latimer;  "but  not  presume  on  it.  If  you  will  not 
maintain  universities,  you  shall  have  a  hrutaliti/."  In 
this  manner  the  Reformation  restored  to  Cambridge 
gravity  and  knowledge,  along  with  truth  and  charity. 

Yet  Biluey  and  Latimer  often  tm-ned  their  eyes 
towards  Oxford,  and  wondered  how  the  light  would 
be  able  to  penetrate  there.  Wolsey  provided  for  that. 
A  Cambridge  master  of  arts,  John  Clark,  a  consci- 
entious man,  of  tender  heart,  great  prudence,  and 
indjounded  devotion  to  his  duty,  had  been  enlightened 
by  the  Word  of  God.  Wolsey,  wdio,  since  152;!,  had 
been  seeking  eveiywhere  for  distinguished  scholars  to 
adorn  his  new  college,  invited  Clark  among  the  first. 
This  doctor,  desirous  of  bearing  to  Oxford  the  light 
which  God  had  given  Cambridge,  immediately  began 
to  deliver  a  course  of  divinity  lectiu'es,  to  hold  con- 
ferences, and  to  preach  in  his  eloquent  manner.     He 


taught  every  day.  Among  the  graduates  and  students 
who  followed  him  was  Anthony  Dalaber,  a  young  man 
of  simple  but  profound  feeling,  who,  while  listeniu"' 
to  him,  had  f.\|icriciKTil  in  )iis  heart  the  regenerating 
power  of  the  (m'-|..1.  ()\.iI|,,u  in^^  with  llio  happiness 
which  the  kuciwlr.l-v  i.t' .Irsu,  Christ  imparted  to  him, 
he  went  to  the  cai-^linal's  ci.ll.'i;-,',  knocked  at  Clark's 
door,  and  said:  "Fatlh  r.  allow  mc  never  to  quit  you 
more!"  The  teaclici-,  iiclLuldiug  the  young  disciple's 
enthusiasm,  loved  him;  but  thcjught  it  is  duty  to  try 
him :  "  Anthony,"  said  he,  "  you  kuow  not  what  you 
ask.  My  teaching  is  now  pleasant  to  you,  but  the 
time  will  come  when  God  will  lay  the  cross  of  per- 
secution on  yon ;  you  will  be  dragged  before  bishops  ; 
your  name  will  be  covered  with  shame  in  the  world ; 
and  all  who  love  you  will  be  heart-broken  on  account 
of  you.  .  .  .  Then,  my  friend,  you  will  regret 
that  you  ever  knew  me." 

Anthony,  believing  himself  rejected,  and  unable  to 
bear  the  idea  of  retm-ning  to  the  barren  instructions 
of  the  priests,  fell  on  his  knees,  and  weeping  bitterly, 
exclaimed:  "For  the  tender  mercy  of  God,  turn  mo 
not  away."  Touched  by  his  sorrow,  Clark  folded  him 
in  his  arms,  kissed  him,  and  with  tears  in  his  eyes, 
exclaimed :  "  The  Lord  give  thee  what  thou  askest ! 
.  Take  me  for  thy  father,  I  take  thee  for  my 
sou."  From  that  hour  Anthony,  all  joy,  was  like 
Timothy  at  the  feet  of  Paul.  He  united  a  quick 
understanding  with  tender  affections.  When  any  of 
the  students  had  not  attended  Clark's  conferences,  the 
master  commissioned  his  disciple  to  visit  them,  to 
inquire  into  their  doubts,  and  to  impart  to  them  his 
instructions.  "  This  exercise  did  mc  much  good,"  said 
Dalaber ;  "  and  I  made  great  progress  in  the  know- 
ledge of  Scripture." 

Thus  the  kingdom  of  God,  which  consists  not  in 
forms,  but  in  the  power  of  the  Spirit,  was  set  up  in 
Cambridge  and  Oxford.  The  alarmed  schoolmen, 
beholding  their  most  jiious  scholars  escajiing  one  after 
another  from  their  teaching,  called  the  bishops  to  their 
aid ;  and  the  latter  determined  to  send  agents  to  Cam- 
bridge, the  focus  of  the  heresy,  to  apprehend  the 
leaders.  This  took  place  in  1523,  or  the  beginning 
of  1524:.  The  episcopal  officers  had  arrived,  and  were 
proceeding  to  business.  The  most  timid  began  to  feel 
alarm;  but  Latimer  was  full  of  courage;  when  sud- 
denly the  agents  of  the  clergy  were  forbidden  to  go 
on ;  and  this  prohibition,  strange  to  say,  originated  with 
Wolsey ;  "  upon  what  ground  I  cannot  imagine,"  says 
Burnet.  Certain  events  were  taking  place  at  Rome, 
of  a  nature  to  exercise  great  influence  over  the  priestly 
councils,  and  which  may  perhaps  explain  what  Bm-not 
could  not  understand. 


CHAPTER  X. 

Wolsey  seeks  tlie  Tiara—Clement  VII.  is  Elected— Wolsey's  Dissimulation— 
Charles  Offers  France  to  Henry— Pace's  Mission  on  tliis  Subject— 
Wolsey  Reforms  the  Convents— His  Secret  Alliances— Treaty  between 
France  and  England— Taxation  and  Inaun-ection— False  Charges  against 
the  Reformers— Latimer's  Defence— Tenterden  Steeple. 

Adrian  VI.  died  on  the  14th  September,  1523,  before 
the  end  of  the  second  year  of  his  pontificate.     Wolsey 


WOLSEY'S  DISAPPOINTMENT  AND  DISSIMULATION. 


thoiiglit  hiuiscll:"  iio])0.  At  length  he  woukl  uo  longoi- 
bo  tiio  favourite  only,  but  the  arbiter  of  the  kings  of 
the  ciirlh  ;  and  his  genius,  for  wliich  Englniul  was  too 
narrow,  would  have  Europe  aud  the  world  for  its  stage. 
Already  revolving  gigantic  projects  in  his  mind,  the 
future  i)opo  dreamt  of  the  destruction  of  heresy  in  the 
west,  and  in  the  cast  the  cessation  of  the  Greek  schism, 
and  iiru-  irii-.ides  to  replant  the  cross  on  the  walls  of 
C'iMi-.i;iii\Lii(.|il<>.  There  is  nothing  that  Wolsey  would 
IK. I  lia\  •  (land  undertake  when  once  seated  on  the 
tluoiie  lit  Catholicism,  and  the  pontificates  of  Gregoiy 
VII.  and  Innocent  III.  Avould  have  been  eclipsed  by 
that  of  the  Ipswich  butcher's  sou.  The  cardinal  re- 
minded IIoniT  of  his  jM'omise,  and  the  very  next  day 
the  king  signed  a  letter  addressed  to  Charles  the  Fifth. 

Believing  himself  sure  of  the  emperor,  AVolsey  turned 
all  his  exertions  to  the  side  of  Rome.  "The  legate  of 
England,"  said  Henry's  nmbassadors  to  the  cardinals, 
"is  the  very  man  for  tiie  present  time.  He  is  the  only 
one  tlioroughly  ac(piaiiited  with  the  interests  and  wants 
of  Clu-istendom,  and  strong  enough  to  provide  for  them. 
He  is  all  kindness,  and  will  share  his  dignities  aud 
wealth  among  all  the  prelates  who  support  him." 

But  Julio  de'  Medici  himself  aspu-ed  to  the  papacy, 
and  as  eighteen  cardinals  were  devoted  to  him,  the 
election  could  not  take  place  without  his  support. 
"  Rather  than  yield,"  said  he  in  the  conclave,  "  I  would 
die  in  this  prison."  A  month  passed  away,  and  nothing 
was  done.  New  intrigues  were  then  resorted  to ;  there 
were  cabals  for  Wolsey,  cabals  for  Medici.  The  cardi- 
nals were  besieged ; 

Into  their  midst,  by  many  a  secret  path. 
Creeps  sly  intrigue. 

At  length,  on  the  19th  November,  1523,  the  people 
collected  under  their  windows,  shouting :  "  No  foreign 
pope."  After  forty-nine  days  debating,  Julio  was 
elected,  and,  according  to  his  own  expression,  "  bent 
his  head  beneath  the  yoke  of  apostolic  sei-vitude."  He 
took  the  name  of  Clement  VH. 

Wolsey  was  exasperated.  It  was  in  vain  that  he 
presented  himself  before  St.  Peter's  chair  at  each 
vacancy:  a  more  active  or  more  fortunate  rival 
always  reached  it  before  him.  Master  of  England, 
and  the  most  influential  of  European  diplomatists,  he 
saw  men  preferred  to  him  who  were  his  inferiors. 
This  election  was  an  event  for  the  Reformation. 
AVolsey  as  pope  would,  humanly  speaking,  have  tight- 
ciicd  the  cords  which  already  bound  England  so  closely 
to  Rome;  but  "Wolsey,  rejected,  could  hardly  fail  to 
throw  himself  into  tortuous  paths,  which  would  perhaps 
contribute  to  the  emancipatiou  of  the  Church.  He 
became  more  crafty  than  ever ;  declared  to  Henry  that 
the  new  election  was  quite  in  conformity  with  his 
wishes,  and  hastened  to  congratulate  the  new  pope. 
He  wrote  to  his  agents  at  Rome :  "  This  election,  I 
assure  you,  is  as  much  to  the  king's  aud  my  rejoicing, 
consolation,  aud  gladness,  as  possibly  may  be  devised 
or  imagined.  .  .  .  Ye  shall  shew  imto  his  holiness 
Avhat  joy,  comfort,  and  gladness,  it  is  both  to  the  king's 
highness  and  me  to  perceive  that  once  in  our  lives  it 
hath  pleased  God  of  His  gi-eat  goodness  to  provide  such 
a  pastor  unto  His  Church,  as  his  grace  and  I  have  loug 
inwardly  desired ;  who  for  his  virtue,  wisdom,  and  other 
high  aud  notable  qualities,  we  have  always  reputed  the 


most  able  and  worthy  person  to  be  called  to  that  •  dig- 
nity." But  the  pope,  divining  his  competitor's  vexa- 
tion, sent  the  king  a  golden  rose,  aud  a  ring  to  "Wolsey. 
"I  am  sorry,"  he  said,  as  he  drew  it  from  his  finger, 
"  that  I  cannot  present  it  to  his  eminence  in  person." 
Clement,  moreover,  conferred  on  him  the  quality  of 
legate  for  life — an  olhcc  which  had  hitherto  been 
temporary  only.  Thus  the  popedom  and  England 
embraced  each  other,  and  nothing  appeared  more  dis- 
tant than  that  Christian  revolution  wliicli  was  destined 
very  shortly  to  emancipate  Britain  from  the  tutelage  of 
the  Vatican. 

"Wolsey 's  disappointed  ambition  made  him  suspend 
the  proceedings  of  the  clergy  at  Cambridge.  He  had 
revenge  in  his  heart,  and  cared  not  to  persecute  his 
fellow-coimtiymen  merely  to  please  his  rival;  and 
besides,  like  several  popes,  ho  had  a  certain  fondness 
for  learning.  To  send  a  few  Lollards  to  prison  was  a 
matter  of  no  ditRcidty;  but  learned  doctors,  .  .  . 
this  required  a  closer  examination.  Hence  he  gave 
Rome  a  sign  of  independence.  Aud  yet  it  was  not 
specially  against  the  pope  that  he  began  to  entertain 
sinister  designs:  Clement  had  been  more  fortunate 
than  himself ;  but  that  was  no  reason  why  he  should 
be  angiy  with  him.  .  .  .  Charles  V.  was  the 
offender,  and  Wolsey  swore  a  deadly  hatred  agaiast 
him.  Resolved  to  strike,  he  sought  only  the  place 
where  he  could  inflict  the  severest  blow.  To  obtain  IiLs 
end,  he  resolved  to  dissemble  his  passion,  and  to  distil 
drop  by  drop  into  Ileniy's  mind  that  mortal  hatred 
against  Charles  which  gave  fresh  energy  to  his  activity. 

Charles  discovered  the  indignation  that  lay  hid  under 
Wolsey 's  apparent  mildness,  and  wishing  to  retain 
Henry's  alliance,  he  made  more  pressing  advances  to 
the  king.  Having  deprived  the  minister  of  a  tiara,  he 
resolved  to  offer  the  king  a  crown :  this  w.w,  indeed,  a 
noble  compensation !  "  You  are  king  of  France,"  the 
emperor  said,  "  and  I  undertake  to  win  your  kmgdom 
for  you.  Only  send  an  ambassador  to  Italy  to  nego- 
tiate the  matter."  Wolsey,  who  could  hardly  contain  his 
vexation,  was  forced  to  comply,  in  appearance  at  least, 
with  the  emperor's  views.  The  king,  indeed,  seemed 
to  think  of  nothing  but  his  arrival  at  St.  Germains, 
aud  commissioned  Pace  to  visit  Italy  for  this  important 
business.  AVolsey  hoped  that  he  would  be  uuable  to 
execute  his  commission ;  it  was  impossible  to  cross  the 
Alps,  for  the  French  troops  blockaded  every  passage. 
But  Pace,  who  was  one  of  those  adventm-ous  characters 
whom  nothing  can  stop,  spurred  on  by  the  thought  that 
the  king  himself  had  sent  him,  determined  to  cross  the 
Col  di  Tenda.  On  the  27th  July,  ho  entered  the  moun- 
tains, traversed  precipitous  passes,  sometimes  climbuig 
them  on  aU-fours,  and  often  faUiug  during  the  descent, 
lu  some  places  he  coidd  ride  on  horseback  ;  "  but  in  the 
most  part  thereof  I  durst  not  either  turn  my  horse  tra- 
verse (he  wi-ote  to  the  king)  for  all  the  worldly  riches, 
nor  in  manner  look  on  my  left  hand,  for  the  pronite 
and  deepness  to  the  valley."  After  this  passage,  which 
lasted  six  days.  Pace  arrived  in  Italy,  worn  out  by 
fatigue.  "  If  the  king  of  England  will  enter  France 
immediately  by  way  of  Normandy,''  said  the  constable 
of  Bourbon  to  him,  "  I  will  give  him  leave  to  pluck  out 
both  my  eyes  -if  he  is  not  master  of  Paris  before  All- 
Saints  ;  and  when  Paris  is  taken,  he  will  be  master  of 


632 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


the  whole  kingdom."  But  "VVolsey,  to  whom  these 
remarks  were  transmitted  by  the  ambassador,  slighted 
them,  delayed  furnishing  the  subsidies,  and  required 
certain  conditions  which  were  calculated  to  thwart  the 
project.  Pace,  who  was  ardent  and  ever  imprudent, 
but  i^lain  and  straightforward,  forgot  himself,  and  in 
a  moment  of  vexation  wrote  to  AVolsey.  "To  speak 
frankly,  if  you  do  not  attend  to  these  things,  I  shall 
impute  to  your  grace  the  loss  of  the  crown  of  France." 
These  words  ruined  Henry's  envoy  in  the  cardinal's 
mind.  Was  this  man,  who  owed  everything  to  him, 
trying  to  supplant  him  ?  .  .  .  Pace  in  vain  assured 
Wolsey  that  he  sliould  not  take  seriously  what  he  had 
said ;  but  the  bolt  had  hit.  Pace  was  associated  with 
]  Charles  in  the  cruel  enmity  of  the  minister,  and  he  was 
one  day  to  feel  its  terrible  effects.  It  was  not  long 
before  Wolsey  was  able  to  satisfy  himself  that  the  ser- 
vice Charles  had  desired  to  render  the  king  of  England 
was  beyond  the  emperor's  strength. 

No  sooner  at  case  ou  one  side,  than  Wolsey  found 
himself  attacked  on  another.  Tliis  man,  the  most 
powerful  among  kings'  favourites,  felt  at  this  time  the 
first  breath  of  disfavour  blow  over  him.  On  the  pon- 
tifical throne,  he  would  no  doubt  have  attempted  a 
reform  after  the  manner  of  Sixtus  V.;  and  wishing 
to  rehearse  ou  a  smaller  stage,  and  regenerate  after  his 
own  fashion  the  Catholic  Church  in  England,  he  sum- 
mitted  the  monasteries  to  a  strict  inquisition,  patronized 
the  instruction  of  youth,  and  was  the  first  to  set  a  great 
example,  by  suppressing  certain  religious  houses,  whose 
revenues  he  applied  to  his  college  in  Oxford.  Tliomas 
CromweU,  his  solicitor,  disphiyed  much  skill  and  in- 
dustiy  in  this  business,  and  thus,  under  the  orders  of  a 
cardinal  of  the  Roman  Church,  made  his  first  cam- 
paign in  a  war  of  which  he  was  in  later  days  to  hold 
the  chief  command.  Wolsey  and  Cromwell,  by  their 
reforms,  drew  down  the  hatred  of  certain  monks, 
priests,  and  noblemen,  always  the  very  humble  servants 
of  the  clerical  party.  The  latter  accused  the  cardinal 
of  not  having  estimated  the  monasteries  at  their  just 
value,  and  of  having,  in  certain  cases,  encroached  on 
the  royal  jurisdiction.  Hemy,  whom  the  loss  of  the 
crown  of  France  had  jaut  in  a  bad  humour,  resolved, 
for  the  first  time,  not  to  spare  his  minister :  "  There 
are  loud  murmurs  throughout  this  kingdom,"  he  said 
to  him ;  "  it  is  asserted  that  your  new  college  at  Oxford 
is  only  a  convenient  cloak  to  hide  your  malversations." 
— "  God  forbid,"  replied  the  cardinal,  "  that  this  vir- 
tuous foundation  at  Oxford,  uudertakeu  for  the  good 
of  my  poor  soul,  should  be  raised  ex  rapinis !  But, 
above  all,  God  forbid  that  I  shoidd  ever  encroach  upon 
your  royal  authority."  He  then  cunningly  insinuated, 
I  that  by  his  will  he  left  all  his  property  to  the  king. 
I  Henry  was  satisfied :  ho  had  a  share  in  the  business. 
j  Events  of  very  different  importance  drew  the  king's 
I  attention  to  another  quarter.  The  two  armies,  of  the 
I  empire  and  of  France,  were  in  presence  before  Pavia. 
I  Wolsey,  who  openly  gave  his  right  hand  to  Charles  V., 
I  and  secretly  his  left  to  Francis,  repeated  to  his  master : 
1  "  If  the  emperor  gains  the  victory,  are  you  not  liis  ally? 
and  if  Francis,  am  I  not  in  secret  communication  with 
him  ?  Thus,"  added  the  cardinal,  "  whatever  happens, 
your  highness  will  have  great  cause  to  give  thanks  to 
Almighty  God." 


On  the  24th  of  February,  1525,  the  battle  of  Pavia 
was  fought,  and  the  Imperialists  found  in  the  French 
king's  tent  several  of  Wolsey 's  letters,  and  in  his  mili- 
tary chest,  and  in  the  pockets  of  his  soldiers,  the  cardi- 
nal's corrupting  gold.  This  alliance  had  been  contrived 
by  Giovanni  Gioacchino,  a  Genoese  master  of  the 
household  to  Louisa,  regent  of  France,  who  passed  for 
a  merchant  of  Bologna,  and  lived  in  concealment  at 
Blackfriars.  Charles  now  saw  what  he  had  to  trust  to  ; 
but  the  news  of  the  battle  of  Pavia  had  scarcely  reached 
England,  when,  faitliful  in  perfidy,  AVolsey  gave  utter- 
ance to  a  feigned  pleasure.  The  people  rejoiced  also, 
but  they  were  in  earnest.  Bonfires  were  lighted  in  the 
streets  of  London ;  the  fountains  ran  wine,  and  the 
lord-mayor,  attended  by  the  aldermen,  passed  through 
the  city  on  horseback  to  the  sound  of  the  trumpet. 

The  cardinal's  joy  was  not  altogether  false.  He 
would  have  been  pleased  at  his  enemy's  defeat ;  but 
his  victory  was  perhaps  still  more  useful  to  him. 

He  said  to  Henry :  "  The  emperor  is  a  liar,  observ- 
ing neither  faith  nor  p)-omise ;  the  Archduchess  Mar- 
garet is  a  woman  of  evil  life ;  Don  Ferdinand  is  a  child, 
and  Bourbon  a  traitor.  Sire,  you  have  other  things  to 
do  with  your  money  than  to  squander  it  on  these  four 
individuals.  Charles  is  aiming  at  universal  monarchy ; 
Pavia  is  the  first  step  of  this  throne ;  and  if  England 
does  not  oppose  liim,  he  will  attain  it."  Joachim  hav- 
ing come  privily  to  London,  Wolsey  prevailed  upon 
Henry  to  conclude  between  England  and  France  an 
"  indissoluble  peace  by  land  and  sea."  At  last,  then, 
he  was  in  a  position  to  prove  to  Charles  that  it 
is  a  dangerous  thing  to  oppose  the  ambition  of  a 
priest. 

This  was  not  the  only  advantage  Wolsey  derived 
from  the  triumph  of  his  enemy.  The  citizens  of  London 
imagined  that  the  king  of  England  would  be  in  a  few 
weeks  in  Paris ;  Wolsey,  rancorous  and  grasping,  deter- 
mined to  make  them  pay  dearly  for  theu-  enthusiasm. 
"  You  desire  to  conquer  France,"  said  he  ;  "  you  are 
right.  Give  me,  then,  for  that  piu-pose,  the  sixth  part 
of  your  property ;  that  is  a  trifle  to  gratify  so  noble  an 
inclination."  England  did  not  tliink  so;  this  illegal 
demand  aroused  universal  complaint.  "  We  are  Eng- 
lish, and  not  French ;  freemen,  and  not  slaves,"  was 
the  universal  ciy.  Henry  might  tyi-annize  over  his 
court,  but  not  lay  hands  on  his  subjects'  property. 

The  eastern  counties  rose  in  insurrection :  four  thou- 
sand men  were  under  arms  in  a  moment ;  and  Henry 
was  guarded  in  his  own  palace  by  only  a  few  servants. 
It  was  necessary  to  break  down  the  bridges  to  stop  the 
insurgents.  The  courtiers  complained  to  the  king ;  the 
king  threw  the  blame  on  the  cardinal ;  the  cardinal  laid 
it  on  the  clergy,  who  had  encouraged  him  to  impose 
this  tax,  by  quoting  to  him  the  example  of  Joseph 
demanding  of  the  Egyptians  the  fifth  part  of  their 
goods ;  and  the  clergy,  in  their  tm-n,  ascribed  the  insur- 
rection to  the  Gospellers,  who  (said  they)  were  stirring 
up  a  peasant  war  in  England,  as  they  had  done  in 
Germany.  Reformation  produces  revolution :  this  is 
the  favourite  text  of  the  followers  of  the  pope.  Violent 
hands  must  be  laid  upon  the  heretics.  Non  pluit  Beus, 
due  ad  C/tristianos.^ 

1  "  God  sends  no  rain.  .  .  .  Lead  us  .igainst  tho  CliiUtians."  Aery 
ascribed  by  Augustine,  to  the  pagans  of  the  first  ages. 


■^m 


p-_ 


^j% 


TYNDALE  AT  HAMBURG. 


The  chargo  of  the  priests  was  absurd ;  but  tlio  people 
arc  blind  wliencver  the  Gospel  is  coiiccrued,  and  occa- 
sionally the  governors  are  blind  also.  Serious  reason- 
ing was  not  necessary  to  confute  this  invention.  "  Here, 
by  the  way,  I  will  tell  you  a  merry  toj',"  said  Latimer, 
one  day,  in  the  pulpit.  "  Master  More  was  once  sent 
in  commission  into  Kent  to  help  to  try  out,  if  it  might 
bo,  what  was  the  cause  of  Goodwin  Sands  and  the 
shelf  that  stojijied  up  Sandwich  haven.  lie  calleth 
the  countiy  afore  him,  such  as  were  thought  to  be 
men  of  experience,  and  among  others  came  in  an  old 
man  with  a  white  head,  and  one  that  was  thought  to 
be  little  less  than  one  hundred  years  old.  So  Master 
More  called  the  old  aged  man  unto  him,  and  said : 
Father,  tell  me,  if  you  can,  what  is  the  cause  of  this 
great  arising  of  the  sands  and  shelves  hereabout,  that 
stop  up  Sandwich  haven?  Forsooth,  sir,  (quoth  be,) 
I  am  an  old  man,  for  I  am  well-nigh  an  hundred,  and 
I  think  that  Tentcrden  steeple  is  the  cause  of  the 
Goodwin  Sands.  For  I  am  an  old  man,  sir,  and  I 
may  remember  the  building  of  Tentordon  steeple,  and 
before  that  steeple  was  in  building,  there  wjis  no 
manner  of  flats  or  sands."  After  relating  this  anec- 
dote, Latimer  slyly  added  :  "  Even  so,  to  my  purpose, 
is  preaching  of  God's  Word  the  cause  of  rebellion,  as 
Tenterden  steeple  was  the  cause  Sandwich  haven  is 
decayed." 

There  was  no  persecution :  there  was  something  else 
to  be  done.  Wolsey,  feeling  certain  that  Charles  had 
obstructed  his  accession  to  the  popedom,  thought  only 
in  what  manner  he  might  take  his  revenge.  But 
during  this  time  Tyndale  also  was  pursuing  his  aim  ; 
and  the  year  1525,  memorable  for  the  battle  of  Pavia, 
was  destined  to  be  no  less  so  in  the  British  isles,  by  a 
still  more  important  victory. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

TjTidale  at  HamLurg— First  Two  Gospels— Embairassmeii^-Tynclalc  at 
Wittemberg— At  Cologne— Tlio  New  Testament  at  Press— Sinlilen  In- 
tcmiption— Cochlmus  at  Cologne— Eupert's  Manuscripts— Discovery  of 
Coclilreus- His  Inquiries— His  Alarm— Rincke  and  the  Senate's  Pro- 
hibition—Consternation  and  Decision  of  Tyndale- Coehlreus  Writes  to 
England— TjTidale  Ascends  the  lihine— Prints  T\vo  Editions  at  Worms 
— Tyndale's  Prayer. 

The  ship  which  carried  Tyndale  and  his  MSS.  cast 
anchor  at  Hamburg,  where,  since  the  year  1521,  the 
Gospel  had  counted  numerous  friends.  Encouraged 
by  the  presence  of  his  brethren,  the  Oxford  fellow  had 
taken  a  quiet  lodging  in  one  of  the  narrow  winding 
streets  of  that  old  city,  and  had  immediately  resumed 
his  task.  A  secretary,  whom  he  terms  his  "  faithful 
companion,"  aided  him  in  collating  texts ;  but  it  was 
not  long  before  this  brother,  whose  name  is  unknown 
to  us,  thinking  himself  called  to  preach  Christ  in  places 
where  He  had  as  yet  never  been  proclaimed,  left 
Tyndale.  A  former  friar-observant  of  the  Franciscan 
order  at  Greenwich,  having  abandoned  the  cloister, 
and  being  at  this  time  without  resources,  offered  his 
services  to  the  Hellenist.     William  Koye  was  one  of 


those  men  (and  they  are  always  pretty  numerous)  whom 
impatience  of  the  yoke  alienates  from  Rome  Avithout 
their  being  attracted  by  the  Spirit  of  God  to  Christ. 
Acute,  insinuating,  crafty,  and  yet  of  pleasing  manners, 
he  charmed  all  those  who  had  mere  casual  relations 
with  him.  Tyndale,  banished  to  the  distant  shores  of 
the  Elbe,  surrounded  by  strange  customs,  and  hearing 
only  a  foreign  tongue,  often  thought  of  England,  and 
was  impatient  that  his  country  should  enjoy  the  result 
of  his  labours :  he  accepted  Royc's  aid.  The  Gospels 
of  Blatthew  and  Mark,  translated  and  printed  at  Ham- 
burg, became,  it  would  seem,  the  first  fruits  to  England 
of  his  great  task. 

But  Tyndale  was  soon  overwhelmed  by  annoyances. 
Roye,  who  was  pretty  manageable  while  he  had  no 
money,  had  become  intractable  now  that  his  purse  was 
less  empty.  AVhat  was  to  be  done?  The  reformer 
having  spent  the  ten  pounds  he  had  brought  from 
England,  could  not  satisfy  the  demands  of  his  assist- 
ant, pay  his  own  debts,  and  remove  to  another  city. 
He  became  still  more  sparing  and  economical.  The 
AVartburg,  in  which  Luther  had  translated  the  New 
Testament,  was  a  palace  in  comparison  with  the  lodg- 
ing in  which  the  reformer  of  wealthy  England  endured 
hunger  and  cold,  while  toiling  day  and  night  to  give 
the  Gospel  to  the  English  Christians. 

About  the  end  of  1524  Tyndale  sent  the  two  Gospels 
to  Monmouth ;  and  a  merchant,  named  John  Collen- 
beke,  having  brought  him  the  ten  pounds  he  had  left 
in  the  hands  of  his  old  patron,  he  prepared  to  depart 
immediately. 

Where  should  he  go?  Not  to  England;  he  must 
complete  his  task  before  all  things.  Could  he  be  in 
Luther's  neighbourhood  and  not  desire  to  see  him  ?  He 
needed  not  the  Saxon  reformer  either  to  find  the  truth, 
which  he  had  alicady  knoT\n  ■\t  Oxftid,  or  to  under- 
take the  trau  htnn  of  the  Scrii)ture  ,  which  he  had 
already  begun  m  tl  c  \  il     of  the  S  \  ei  ri      But  did  not 


COLOGNE    c 


HISTOEY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


.all  evangelical  foreigners  flock  to  Wittemberg?  To 
remove  all  doubt  as  to  the  interview  of  the  reformers, 
it  would  be  desirable,  perhaps,  to  find  some  trace  at 
Wittemberg,^  cither  in  the  university  registers,  or  in 
the  writings  of  the  Saxon  reformers.  Yet  several 
contemporaneous  testimonies  seem  to  give  a  sufRcient 
degree  of  probability  to  this  conference.  Foxe  tells 
us :  "  He  had  an  interview  with  Luther  and  other 
learned  men  of  that  country.'"'  This  must  have  been 
in  the  spring  of  1525. 

Tyndale,  desirous  of  drawing  nearer  to  his  native 
country,  turned  his  eyes  towards  the  Rhine.  There 
were  at  Cologne  some  celebrated  printers  well  known 
in  England,  and  among  others  Quentel  and  the  Byrck- 
mans.  Francis  Byrckraan  had  warehouses  in  St.  Paul's 
churchyard  in  London, — a  circumstance  that  might 
facilitate  the  introduction  and  sale  of  the  Testament 
printed  on  the  banks  of  the  Rhine.  This  providential 
circumstance  decided  Tyndale  in  favour  of  Cologne, 
and  thither  he  repaired  with  Roye  and  his  MSS. 
Arrived  in  the  gloomy  streets  of  the  city  of  Agrippina, 
he  contemplated  its  innumerable  churches,  and  above 
all  its  ancient  cathedral  re-echoing  to  the  voices  of  its 
canons,  and  was  oppressed  with  sorrow  as  he  beheld 
the  priests,  and  monks,  and  mendicants,  and  pilgrims, 
who,  from  all  parts  of  Europe,  poured  in  to  adore  the 
pretended  relics  of  the  three  ivi'se  men  and  of  the  eleven 
tlwnsand  virgins.  And  then  Tyndale  asked  himself 
whether  it  was  really  in  this  superstitious  city  that  the 
New  Testament  was  to  be  printed  in  English.  This 
was  not  all.  The  reform  movement  then  at  work  in 
Germany  had  broken  out  at  Cologne  during  the  feast 
of  Whitsuntide,  and  the  archbishop  had  just  forbidden 
all  e\-angelical  worship.  Y'et  Tyndale  persevered,  and 
submitting  to  the  most  minute  precautions,  not  to 
compromise  his  work,  he  took  an  obscure  lodging, 
where  he  kept  himself  closely  hidden. 

Soon,  however,  trusting  in  God,  he  called  on  the 
printer,  presented  his  manuscripts  to  him,  ordered  six 
thousand  copies,  and  then,  upon  reflection,  sank  down 
to  three  thousand,  for  fear  of  a  seizure.  The  print- 
ing went  on;  one  sheet  followed  another;  gradually 
the  Gospel  unfolded  its  mysteries  in  the  English 
tongue,  and  Tyndale  could  not  contain  himself  for 
■^'"7  .i"y-  He  saw  in  his  mind's  eye  the  triumphs  of 
the  Scriptures  over  all  the  kingdom,  and  exclaimed 
with  transport:  "Whether  the  king  wills  it  or  not, 
erelong  all  the  peo]ilc  of  England,  enlightened  by  the 
New  Testament,  will  obey  the  Gospel." 

1  I  iic|\i.';,tf  (1  a  Ceiinan  divine  to  investigate  tliis  matter,  but  his  researches 
wir.' Uli.suf.'.svsful. 

•-'  Mr,  Audi  rswi,  in  his  excellent  work,  ("Annals  of  tlie  English  Bible,"  vol. 
i.,  !>.  47, >  ilisimtcs  tlie  interview  between  these  two  reformers ;  but  his  .argu- 


But  on  a  sudden  that  sun,  whose  earliest  beams  he 
had  hailed  with  songs  of  joy,  was  hidden  by  thick 
clouds.  One  day,  just  as  the  tenth  sheet  had  been 
thrown  off,  the  printer  hastened  to  Tvndale,  and  io- 
fonur,]  liiii,  dial  llir  >rnalc  of  C,.l,.uncVoil.aae  him  to 
cnntiiinr  lli,'  woik.  E\.T\ilnn-  was  (li>.M,\ vrr.l  then. 
No  doubt  Ilcmy  \iU.,  wiio  has  burnt  Luther's  books, 
wishes  to  burn  the  New  Testament  also,  to  destroy 
Tyndale's  manuscripts,  aud  deliver  him  up  to  death. 
'WHio  had  betrayed  him  1  He  was  lost  in  unavailing 
conjectures,  and  one  thing  only  appeared  certain :  alas ! 
his  vessel,  which  was  moving  onwards  in  full  sail,  had 
struck  upon  a  reef !  The  following  is  the  explanation 
of  this  unexpected  incident : — • 

A  man  whom  we  have  often  met  with  in  the  course 
of  this  history,  one  of  the  mcot  violent  enemies  of  the 
Reformation, — we  mean  CochloMis, — lad  arrived  in 
Cologne.  The  wave  of  popular  auila'.lou  which  had 
stirred  this  city  during  the  \VliilMHiliii.'  holidays,  had 
prcviou-lv  sw.'pt  over  Frankfort  (luiiiiLT  lln'  festival  of 
East,!-:  and  llir  ,lran  of  Notre-Dauir.  Mkinu  advantage 
of  a  mnn.  Ill  when  the  gates  of  llii'  rily  wrw  ojieii, 
had  escaped  a  few  minutes  before  the  burgliers  entered 
his  house  to  arrest  him.  On  arriving  at  Cologne, 
where  he  hoped  to  live  unknown  under  the  shadow 
of  the  powerful  elector,  he  had  gone  to  lodge  with 
George  Lauer,  a  canon  in  the  church  of  the  Apostles. 

By  a  singular  destiny,  the  two  most  opposite  men, 
Tyndale  and  Cochloeus,  were  in  hiding  in  the  same 
city;  they  could  not  long  remain  there  without  coming 
into  collision. 

On  the  right  bank  of  the  Rhine,  aud  opposite  Cologne, 
stood  the  monasteiy  of  Deutz,  one  of  whose  abbots, 
Rupert,  who  lived  in  the  twelfth  century,  had  said: 
"To  be  ignorant  of  Scripture,  is  to  be  ignorant  of 
Jesus  Christ.  This  is  the  scripture  of  nations  !  This 
book  of  God,  which  is  not  pompous  in  words,  and  poor 
in  meaning,  like  Plato,  ought  to  be  set  before  every 
people,  aud  to  proclaim  aloud  to  the  whole  world  the 
salvation  of  all."  One  day,  when  Cochloeus  and  his 
host  were  talking  of  Rupert,  the  canon  informed  the 
dean  that  the  heretic  Osiander  of  Nuremberg  was  in 
treaty  with  the  abbot  of  Deutz  about  publishing  the 
writings  of  this  ancient  doctor.  Cochloeus  guessed 
siaiider  was  desirous  of  bringing  forward  the 
pniary  nf  St.  Bernard  as  a  witness  in  defence 
K'  fMiiiiaiiiin.  Hastening  to  the  monastery,  he 
1  llie  aiiliol  :  "Intrast  to  me  the  manuscripts  of 
■li'lualcil  predecessor,"  he  said;  "I  will  under- 
print  III.  Ill,  and  prove  that  he  was  one  of  us." 
inks  placed  them  in  his  hands,  stipulating  for 
an  early  publication,  from  which  they  expected  no 
little  renown,  Cochloeus  immediately  went  to  Peter 
Quentel  and  Arnold  Byrckmau  to  make  the  necessaiy 
arrangements.     They  were  Tyndale's  printers. 

There  Cochloeus  made  a  more  important  discovery 
than  that  of  Rupert's  manuscripts.  Byrckmau  aiul 
<^i!hii(rl  ha\iuu-  iii\iti-(l  Iiini  one  day  to  meet  several  of 
Iheir  culleauius  al  dinner,  a  ]jrinler,  somewhat  elevated 
l.y  «ine,  (l.'elarecl  in  his  eups,  (to  borrow  the  WOrds 
of  Cochkcus:)  "Whether  the  king  and  the  cardinal 
of  York  wish  it  or  not,  all  England  will  soon  be 
Lutheran."  Cochloeus  listened  aud  grew  alarmed ;  he 
made  inquiry,  and  was  informed  that  two  Englishmen, 


THE  SECRET  BETRAYED-TYNDALE'S  FLIGHT. 


Ipiirncil  inc-ii,  and  skillril  in  the  languages,  were  con- 
coaU'tl  at  Cologne.  But  all  his  efforts  to  discover  more 
proved  unavailing. 

There  was  no  more  repose  for  the  Dean  of  Frank- 
fort ;  his  imaginatiou  foi'nicuted,  his  mind  became 
alarmed.  "  "What !"  said  he,  "  shall  England,  that 
faithful  servant  of  the  jiopodom,  be  perverted  like 
Germany/  Shall  the  English,  the  most  religious 
people  of  Christondoni,  and  -nliose  king  once  ennobled 
himself  by  writing  against  Luther, — shall  they  bo 
invaded  by  heresy.'  .  .  .  Shall  the  mighty  car- 
dinal-legate of  York  be  compelled  to  flee  from  his 
jialace,  as  I  was  from  Frankfort?"  Cochloous  con- 
tinued his  search ;  he  paid  frequent  visits  to  the 
]irinters,  sjjoke  to  thom  in  a  friendly  tone,  flattered 
them,  invited  thom  to  visit  him  at  the  canon's;  but 
as  yet  he  dared  not  hazard  the  important  question ; 
it  was  snflicient  for  the  moment  to  have  won  the 
good  graces  of  tlic  dejiositaries  of  the  secret.  He 
soon  took  a  now  step ;  he  was  careful  not  to  ques- 
tion them  before  one  another;  but  he  jirocured  a 
])rivate  interview  with  one  of  them,  and  supplied 
liini  plentifully  with  Wiino  wine:  ho  himself  is  our 
informant.  Artful  questions  embarrassed  the  unwary 
printer,  and  at  last  the  secret  was  disclosed.  "  The 
New  Testament,"  ('ochhrus  learnt,  "is  translated  into 
English;  three  tluiu-ainl  cnpiis  are  in  the  press;  foui-- 
.scorc  pages  in  ([uai  in  an-  voady;  the  expense  is  fully 
stipplicd  by  Englili  uu  i\liaiils,  who  are  secretly  to 
convey  the  work  when  printed,  and  to  disperse  it 
widely  through  all  England,  before  the  king  or  the 
cardinal  can  discover  or  prohibit  it.  ,  .  .  Thus 
will  Britain  be  converted  to  the  opinions  of  Luther. 

The  surprise  of  Coehlosus  equalled  his  alarm ;  he 
dissembled ;  he  wished  to  learn,  however,  where  the 
two  Englishmeu  lay  concealed;  but  all  his  exertious 
])rovi-d  ineffectual,  and  he  returned  to  his  lodgings 
tilled  with  emotion.  The  danger  was  very  great.  A 
stranger  and  an  exile,  what  can  he  do  to  ojiposc  this 
impious  undertaking?  "Where  shall  he  find  a  friend  to 
England,  iirejiared  to  shew  his  zeal  in  warding  off  the 
threatened  blow  ?     ...     He  was  bewililered. 

A  ilash  of  light  suddenly  dispelled  the  darkness.  A 
person  of  some  consequence  at  Cologne,  Hei-man 
Kincke,  a  patrician  and  imperial  councillor,  had  been 
sent  on  important  business  by  tlio  Emperor  Maximilian 
to  Henry  VII.,  and  from  that  time  he  had  always 
shewn  a  gi'eat  attachment  to  England.  Cochlocus 
determined  to  reveal  the  fatal  secret  to  him;  but, 
being  still  alarmed  by  the  scenes  at  Frankfort,  he 
was  afraid  to  conspire  openly  against  the  Reforma- 
tion. He  had  left  au  aged  mother  and  a  little  niece 
at  home,  and  was  luiwilling  to  do  anything  which 
might  compromise  them.  He  therefore  crept  stealthily 
towards  IJineke's  house,  (as  he  tells  us  himself,)  slipped 
in  secretly,  and  unfolded  the  whole  matter  to  him. 
Ivinekc  could  not  believe  that  the  New  Testament  in 
English  was  ])riutiug  at  Cologne;  however,  he  sent  a 
conlidential  person  to  make  inquiries,  who  reported  to 
him  that  C'cuhhcus's  information  was  correct,  and  that 
hi'  had  I'uuiiil  in  the  printing  office  a  large  supply  of 
]ia|ii  r  iiiimi!,  ,1  for  the  edition.  The  patrician  imme- 
diaiily  piucirdcd  to  the  senate,  and  spoke  of  "Wolsey, 
of  Heuiy  \'HI.,  and  of  the  preservation  of  the  Romish 


Church  in  England ;  and  that  body,  which,  under  the 
intlucnce  of  the  archbi>hnp,  liad  long  since  forgotten 
the  rights  of  liberty,  forbade  the  printer  to  continue 
the  work.  Thus,  then,  there  were  to  be  no  New 
Testaments  for  England !  A  practised  hand  had 
warded  off  the  blow  aimed  at  Roman  Catholicism ; 
Tyndalo  woidd,  perhaps,  be  thrown  into  prison,  and 
Cochlocus  enjoy  a  complete  triunqdi. 

Tyndale  was  at  first  confounded.  "U'"erc  so  many 
years  of  toil  lost,  then,  for  ever?  His  trial  seemed 
beyond  his  strength.  "  They  are  ravening  wolves," 
he  exclaimed ;  "  they  preach  to  others.  Steal  not,  and 
yet  they  have  robbed  tlie  soid  of  man  of  the  bread  of 
life,  and  fed  her  with  the  shales  [shells  ?]  and  cods 
of  the  hope  in  their  merits  and  confidence  in  their  good 
works."  Yet  Tyndale  diil  not  long  renuiin  cast  down ; 
for  his  faith  was  of  that  kind  which  would  remove 
moiuitains.  Is  it  not  the  AVord  of  God  that  is  im- 
perilled? If  he  does  not  abandon  himself,  God  will 
not  abandon  him.  He  must  anticipate  the  senate  of 
Cologne.  Daring  and  prompt  in  all  his  movements, 
Tyndale  bade  Roye  follow  hhn,  hastened  to  tlic  print- 
ing office,  collected  the  sheets,  jumped  into  a  boat,  and 
ra|)idly  ascended  the  river,  carrying  with  him  the  hope 
of  England. 

When  Cochloeus  and  Rincko,  accompanied  by  the  offi- 
cers of  the  senate,  reached  the  printing  office,  they  were 
surprised  beyond  measure.  The  apostate  had  secured 
the  abominable  papers !  .  ,  .  Their  enemy  had 
escaped  like  a  bird  from  the  net  of  the  fowler.  "VVherc 
was  he  to  be  found  now  ?  He  would  no  doubt  go  and 
place  himself  under  the  protection  of  some  Lvtheiaii 
prince,  whither  Cochlojus  would  take  good  care  not 
to  pursue  him ;  but  thei'e  was  one  resource  left.  These 
English  books  can  do  no  harm  in  Germany;  they  must 
be  prevented  reaching  London.  He  wrote  to  Hemy 
VIII.,  to  "Wolsey,  and  to  the  Bishop  of  Rochester. 
"  Two  Englishmen,"  said  he  to  the  king,  "  like  the  two 
cmiuchs  who  desired  to  lay  hands  on  Ahasuerus,  are 
idotting  wickedly  against  the  peace  of  your  kingdom  ; 
but  I,  like  the  faithful  Mordecai,  will  lay  open  their 
designs  to  you.  They  wish  to  send  the  New  Testa- 
ment in  English  to  your  people.  Give  orders  at  every 
seaport  to  prevent  the  introduction  of  this  most  baneful 
merchandise."  Such  was  the  name  given  by  this  zeal- 
ous follower  of  the  pope  to  the  "Word  of  God.  An 
unexpected  ally  soon  restored  peace  to  the  sold  of 
Cochlocus.  The  celebrated  Dr.  Eck,  a  champion  of 
Popery  far  more  formidable  than  he  was,  had  arrivcid 
at  Cologne  on  his  way  to  London,  and  he  undertook  to 
arouse  the  anger  of  the  bishops  and  of  the  king.  The 
eyes  of  the  greatest  opponents  of  the  Reformation 
seemed  now  to  be  fixed  on  England.  Eck,  who 
boasted  of  having  gained  the  most  signal  triumphs 
over  Luther,  would  easily  get  the  better  of  the 
humble  tutor  and  his  New  Testament. 

During  this  time  Tyndale,  guarding  his  precious 
bales,  ascended  the  rapid  river  as  quickly  as  he 
could.  He  passed  before  the  antique  cities  and  the 
smiling  villages  scattered  along  the  banks  of  tlie 
Rhine  amidst  scenes  of  jncturcsquo  beauty.  The 
mountains,  glens,  and  rocks,  the  dark  forests,  the 
ruined  fortresses,  the  Gothic  churches,  tlie  boats  that 
passed   and   repassed   each    other,  the  birds  of  prey 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


that  soared  over  his  head,  as  if  they  bore  a  mission 
from  Coeliloeus — nothing  could  turn  Ms  eyes  from 
the  treasure  he  was  cariying  -w-itli  him.  At  last, 
after  a  voyage  of  five  or  six  days,  ho  reached  AVorms, 
■where  Luther,  foiu-  years  before,  had  exclaimed: 
"Here  I  stand,  I  can  do  no  other;  may  God  help 
me ! "  These  words  of  the  German  reformer,  so  well 
known  to  Tyndale,  were  the  star  that  had  guided 
him  to  Worms.  He  knew  that  the  Gospel  was 
preached  in  that  ancient  city.  "  The  citizens  are 
subject  to  fits  of  Lutheranism,"  said  Cochlocus.  Tyn- 
dale arrived  there,  not  as  Luther  did,  surrounded  by 
an  immense  crowd,  but  unknown,  and  imagining  him- 
self pursued  by  the  myrmidons  of  Charles  and  of 
Heniy.  As  he  landed  from  the  boat,  he  cast  an 
uneasy  glance  around  him,  and  laid  down  his  pre- 
cious burden  on  the  bank  of  the  river. 

He  had  had  time  to  reflect  on  the  dangers  which 
threatened  his  work.  As  his  enemies  woidd  have 
marked  the  edition,  some  few  sheets  of  it  having 
fallen  into  their  hands,  he  took  steps  to  mislead  the 
inquisitors,  and  began  a  new  edition,  striking  out  the 
prologue  and  the  notes,  and  substituting  the  more 
portable  octavo  form  for  the  original  quarto.  Peter 
Schajffer,  the  gi-andson  of  Faust,  one  of  the  inventors 
of  printing,  lent  his  presses  for  this  important  work. 
The  two  editions  were  quietly  completed  about  the 
end  of  the  year  1525.' 

Thus  were  the  wicked  deceived :  they  would  have 
deprived  the  English  pooi)le  of  the  oracles  of  God,  and 
tico  editions  were  now  ready  to  enter  England.  "  Give 
diligence,"  said  Tyndale  to  his  fellow-coimtrymen,  as 
he  sent  from  AN'orms  the  Testament  he  had  just  trans- 
lated, "  unto  the  words  of  eternal  life,  by  the  which, 
if  we  repent  and  believe  them,  we  are  born  anew, 
created  afresh,  and  enjoy  the  fruits  of  the  blood  of 
Christ."  In  the  beginning  of  1526,  these  books  crossed 
the  sea  by  way  of  Antwerp  or  Rotterdam.  T3-ndale 
was  happy;  but  he  knew  that  the  unction  of  the  Holy 
Ghost  alone  could  enable  the  people  of  England  to 
understand  these  sacred  pages ;  and,  accordingly,  he 
followed  them  night  and  day  with  his  prayers.  '•  The 
scribes  and  Pharisees,"  said  he,  "  had  thrust  up  the 
sword  of  the  "Word  of  God  in  a  scabbard  or  sheath 
of  glosses,  and  therein  had  knit  it  fast,  so  that  it 
could  neither  stick  nor  cut.  Now,  O  God!  draw 
this  sharp  sword  from  the  scabbard.  Strike,  wound, 
cut  asunder,  the  soul  and  the  flesh,  so  that  man  being 
divided  in  two,  and  set  at  variance  with  himself,  may 
be  in  peace  with  thee  to  all  eternity!" 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Woi-rns  and  Cambridge— St  Paul  Resuscitated— Latimer's  Preaching- Never 
Man  spake  like  this  Man— Joy  and  Vexation  at  Cambridge— Sermon 
by  Prior  Bnekingham — Irony — Latimer's  Reply  to  Buckingham — Tlic 
Students  threatened- Latimer  Preaches  before  the  Bishop— He  Is  for- 
bidden to  Preach — ^The  most  zealous  of  Bishops— Barnes,  the  Restorer 

>  "A  copy  of  the  ocfaiv  edition  exists  in  the  Museum  of  the  Baptist  Col- 
lege at  Bristol.  If  it  is  compared  with  the  quarto  edition,  a  sensible  pro- 
gr.ss  will  be  found  in  the  orthography.  Thus  we  read  in  the  latter: 
pTophelle^,  syiincrs,  moosu,  sclynge;  in  the  octavo  we  find,  prophets,  sinners, 
m^st,  seking" — Annals  of  the  LibU,  i.,  p,  70. 


of  Letters— Bilney  undertakes  to  Convert  him— Barnes  offere  his  Pulpit 
to  Latimer — Fryth*s  Thirst  for  God— Ciiristmas  Eve,  1525 — Stoi-ra  against 
Barnes— Ferment  in  the  Colleges— Germany  at  Cambridge— Meetings  at 
Oxford— General  Expectation. 

While  these  works  were  accomplishing  at  Cologne 
and  Worms,  others  were  going  on  at  Cambridge  and 
Oxford.  On  the  banks  of  the  Rhine  they  were  pre- 
paring the  seed ;  in  England  they  were  di-awing  the 
fun-ows  to  receive  it.  The  Gospel  produced  a  great 
agitation  at  Cambridge.  Bilney,  whom  we  may  call 
the  father  of  the  English  Reformation,  since,  being  the 
first  converted  by  the  New  Testament,  he  had  brought 
to  the  knowledge  of  God  the  energetic  Latimer,  and  so 
many  other  witnesses  of  the  truth, — Bilney  did  not  at 
that  time  put  himself  forward,  like  many  of  those  who 
had  listened  to  him :  his  vocation  was  prayer.  Timid 
before  men,  he  was  fuU  of  boldness  before  God,  and 
day  and  night  called  upon  him  for  souls.  But  while 
he  was  kneeling  in  his  closet,  others  were  at  work  in 
the  world.  Among  these,  Stafford  was  particularly 
remarkable.  "Paul  is  risen  from  the  dead,"  said 
many  as  they  heard  him.  And  in  fact  Stafford  ex- 
plained with  so  much  life  the  true  meaning  of  the 
words  of  the  apostle  and  of  the  four  evangelists, 
that  these  holy  men,  whose  faces  had  been  so  long 
hidden  under  the  dense  traditions  of  the  schools,  re- 
appeared before  the  youth  of  the  university  such  as 
the  apostolic  times  had  beheld  them.  But  it  was 
not  only  their  persons.,  (for  that  would  have  been  a 
trifling  matter,)  it  was  their  doctrine  which  Stafford 
laid  before  his  hearers.  AVhile  the  schoolmen  of  Cam- 
bridge were  declaring  to  then-  pupils  a  reconciliation 
which  was  not  yet  worked  out,  and  teUuig  them  that 
pardon  must  be  purchased  by  the  works  prescribed 
by  the  church,  Stafford  taught  that  redemption  was 
accomplished.,  that  the  satisfaction  offered  by  Jesus 
Christ  was  perfict ;  and  he  added,  that  Popery  hav- 
ing revived  the  kingdom  oj  the  law,  God,  by  the  Refor- 
mation, was  now  reviving  the  kingdom  of  grace.  The 
Cambridge  students,  charmed  by  their  master's  teach- 
ing, greeted  him  with  applause ;  and,  indulging  a  little 
too  far  in  their  enthusiasm,  said  to  one  another  as  they 
left  the  lecture-room :  "  Wiiich  is  the  most  indebted  to 
the  other?  Stafford  to  Paul,  who  left  him  the  holy 
epistles ;  or  Paul  to  Stafford,  who  has  resuscitated  that 
apostle  and  his  holy  doctrines,  which  the  Middle  Ages 
had  obscured  ]" 

Above  Bilney  and  Stafford  rose  Latimer,  who,  by 
the  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  transfused  into  other 
hearts  the  learned  lessons  of  his  master.  Being  in- 
formed of  the  work  that  Tj-ndale  was  preparing,  he 
maintained  from  the  Cambridge  pulpits  that  the  Bible 
ought  to  be  road  in  the  vulgar  tongue.  "  The  author 
of  Holy  Scripture,"  said  he,  "  is  the  mighty  One,  the 
Everlasting  .  .  .  God  himself!  .  .  .  and  tliis 
Scripture  partakes  of  the  might  and  eternity  of  its 
Author.  There  is  neither  king  nor  emperor  that  is 
not  bound  to  obey  it.  Let  us  beware  of  tliose  bypatiis 
of  human  tradition,  filled  of  stones,  brambles,  and  up- 
rooted trees.  Let  us  foUow  the  straight  road  of  the 
AVord.  It  does  not  concern  us  what  the  Fatliers  have 
done,  but  what  they  should  have  done." 

A  numerous  congregation  crowded  to  Latimer's 
preaching,  and  his  hearers  hung  listening  to  his  lips. 


PRIOR  BUCKINGHAM'S  SERMON-LATIMER'S  REPLY. 


One  ill  ])aiticuliir  attracted  attcntiou.  He  was  a 
Norfolk  youth,  sixteeu  years  of  age,  whose  features 
wire  li^jhted  up  with  undcrstaiuliiig  and  piety.  This 
poor  Sfiiolur  liad  received  with  eagerness  the  truth 
announced  by  the  former  cross-bearer.  lie  did  not 
miss  one  of  his  sermons;  with  a  sheet  of  paper  on  his 
kiiei'-;,  and  a  jicncil  in  his  hand,  he  took  down  part  of 
till'  ili-ioiii  M-,  tiu-li:ii;  the  remainder  to  his  memory. 
Tlii^  \\;i-  riinnia-  lli.oii,  afterwards  chaplain  to  Craii- 
nuT,  ar(.libi>hi)p  of  Canterbury.  "If  I  possess  the 
knowledge  of  God,"  said  he,  "  I  owe  it  (uuder  God)  to 
Latimer." 

Latimer  had  hearers  of  many  sorts.  By  the  side  of 
those  who  gave  way  to  their  enthusiasm  stood  men 
"  swelling,  blown  full,  and  puffed  up  like  unto  ^Ivsop's 
frog,  with  envy  and  malice  against  him,"  said  Becon ; 
these  were  the  partisans  of  traditional  Catholicism, 
whom  curiosity  had  attracted,  or  whom  their  evan- 
gelical friends  had  dragged  to  the  church.  But  as 
Latimer  spoke  a  marvellous  transformation  was  worked 
in  them ;  by  degrees  their  angry  features  relaxed,  their 
fierce  looks  grew  softer;  and  if  these  friends  of  the 
priests  were  asked,  after  their  return  lionic,  what  they 
thought  of  the  heretic  preacher,  tluy  replied,  in  the 
exaggeration  of  their  surprLse  and  rai)ture:  ••Xiiii(/i(am 
sic  locutus  est  homo,  sicut  hie  homo!"     (John  vii.  40.) 

When  he  descended  from  the  pulpit,  Latimer  hastened 
to  2)ractise  what  ho  had  taught.  He  visited  the  narrow 
chambers  of  the  poor  scholars,  and  the  dark  rooms  of 
the  working  classes :  "  he  watered  with  good  deeds 
wliatsoever  he  had  before  planted  with  godly  words," 
said  the  student  who  collected  his  discourses.  The 
disciples  conversed  together  with  joy  and  simplicity  of 
heart ;  everywhere  the  breath  of  a  new  life  was  felt ; 
I  as  yet  no  external  reforms  had  been  effected,  and  yet 
the  spiritual  Church  of  the  Ciospel  and  of  the  Reforma- 
tion was  already  there.  And  thus  the  recollection  of 
these  happy  times  was  long  commemorated  in  the 
adage ■ 

"  Wlien  Master  Stafford  react, 
And  Master  Latimer  preaehed, 
Then  was  Cambridge  bicsscd." 

The  priests  could  not  remain  inactive ;  they  heard 
speak  of  grace  and  liberty,  and  would  have  nothing  to 
do  with  either.  If  tjrace  is  tolerated,  will  it  not  take 
from  the  hands  of  the  clergy  the  manipulation  of  sal- 
vation, indulgences,  penance,  and  all  the  rubrics  of  the 
canon  law  ]  If  libcrti/  is  conceded,  will  not  the  hier- 
archy, with  all  its  degrees,  pomps,  violence,  and  scaf- 
folds, be  shaken.'  Rome  desires  no  other  liberty  than 
that  of  free-will,  which,  exalting  the  natural  strength 
of  fallen  man,  dries  up,  as  regards  mankind,  the  springs 
of  Divine  life,  withers  Christianity,  and  changes  that 
heavenly  religion  into  a  human  moralism  and  legal 
observances. 

The  friends  of  Popery,  therefore,  collected  their 
forces  to  oppose  the  new  religion.  "  Satan,  who  never 
sleeps,"  says  the  simple  chronicler,  "  called  up  his 
familiar  spirits,  and  sent  them  forth  against  the  re- 
fonners."  Meetings  were  held  in  the  convents,  but 
particidarly  in  that  belonging  to  the  Grcyfriars.  They 
mustered  all  their  forces.  An  ojc  for  an  eye,  and  a 
tooth  for  a  tooth,  said  they.  Latimer  extols  in  his 
sermons  the  blessings  of  Scripture  ■  we  must  deliver  a 


sermon  also  to  shew  its  dangers.  But  where  was  the 
orator  to  bo  found  who  could  cope  with  him  ?  Tliis 
was  a  very  embarrassing  (piestion  to  the  clerical  party. 
Among  the  Grcyfriars  there  was  a  haughty  monk, 
adroit  and  skilful  in  little  matters,  and  full  at  once 
of  ignorance  and  pride :  it  was  the  ])rior  Buckingham. 
No  one  had  shewn  more  hatred  against  the  evangelical 
Christians,  and  no  one  was,  in  truth,  a  greater  stranger 
to  the  Gospel.  This  was  the  man  commissioned  to  set 
forth  the  dangers  of  the  "Word  of  God.  lie  was  by  no 
means  familiar  with  the  New  Testament ;  he  opened  it, 
however,  picked  out  a  few  passages  here  and  there 
which  seemed  to  favour  his  thesis ;  and  then,  arrayed 
in  his  costliest  robes,  with  head  erect  and  solemn  step, 
already  sure  of  victory,  he  went  into  the  pulpit,  com- 
bated the  heretic,  and,  with  pompous  voice,  stormed 
against  the  reading  of  the  Bible ;  it  was,  in  his  eyes, 
the  fountain  of  all  heresies  and  misfortunes.  "  If  that 
heresy  should  prevail,"  he  exclaimed,  "  there  will  be 
an  end  of  eveiythiug  useful  among  us.  The  plough- 
man, reading  in  the  Gospel  that  no  man  having  put  his 
hand  to  the  plough  should  look  bach;  would  soon  lay 
aside  his  labour.  .  .  .  The  baker,  reading  that  a 
little  leaven  leaveneth  the  whole  lump,  will  in  future  make 
us  nothing  but  very  insipid  bread ;  and  the  simple  man, 
finding  himself  commanded  to  pluck  out  the  right  ei/e 
and  cast  it  from  thee,  England,  after  a  few  years,  will 
be  a  frighful  spectacle ;  it  will  be  little  better  than  a 
nation  of  blind  and  one-eyed  men,  sadly  begging  their 
bread  from  door  to  door." 

This  discourse  moved  that  part  of  the  audience  for 
which  it  was  intended.  "  The  heretic  is  silenced," 
said  the  monks  and  clerks ;  but  sensible  people  smiled, 
and  Latimer  was  delighted  that  they  had  given  him 
such  an  advcrsaiy.  Being  of  a  lively  disposition,  and 
inclined  to  irony,  he  resolved  to  lash  the  platitudes  of 
the  pompous  friar.  There  are  some  absurdities,  he 
thought,  which  can  only  be  refuted  by  shewing  how 
foolish  they  are.  Does  not  even  the  grave  Tertullian 
speak  of  things  which  are  only  to  be  laughed  at,  for 
fear  of  giving  them  importance  by  a  serious  refutation  ? 
"  Next  Sunday  I  will  reply  to  him,"  said  Latimer. 

The  church  was  crowded  when  Buckingham,  with  the 
hood  of  St.  Francis  on  his  shoulders,  and  with  a  vain- 
glorious air,  took  his  place  solemnly  in  front  of  the 
preacher.  Latimer  began  by  recapitulating  the  least 
weak  of  his  adversaiy's  arguments ;  then,  taking  them 
up  one  by  one,  he  turned  them  over  and  over,  and 
pointed  out  all  their  absurdity  with  so  much  wit,  that 
the  poor  prior  was  buried  in  his  own  nonsense.  Then, 
turning  towards  the  listening  crowd,  he  exclaimed  with 
warmth  :  "  This  is  how  yom-  skilful  guides  abuse  your 
understanding.  They  look  upon  you  as  children  that 
must  be  for  ever  kept  in  leading-strings.  Now  the 
hour  of  your  majority  has  arrived ;  boldly  examine  the 
Scriptures,  and  you  will  easily  discover  the  absurdity 
of  the  teadiiug  of  your  doctors."  And  then,  desiious, 
as  Solomon  has  it,  of  answering  a  fool  according  to  his 
fvlbj,  he  added  :  "  As  for  the  comparisons  drawn  from 
the  plough,  the  leaven,  and  the  eye,  of  which  the  rever- 
end prior  lias  made  so  singular  a  use,  is  it  necessary  to 
justify  these  passages  of  Scripture '  Must  I  tell  you 
what  plough,  what  leaven,  what  eye  is  here  meant? 
Is  not  our   Lord's    teaching   distinguished   by  those 


a38 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


expressions  •which,  uiiclcr  a  popular  form,  couceal  a 
spiritual  aud  profound  mcauiug?  Do  uot  we  know 
that  iu  all  languages,  and  in  all  speeches,  it  is  not 
on  the  image  that  we  must  fix  our  eyes,  but  on  the 
thlnri  which  the  image  represents  ?  .  .  .  For  iu- 
I  s'-mco,"  he  continued,  and  as  he  said  these  words  he 
cast  a  piercing  glance  on  the  prior,  "  if  we  see  a  fox 
jiaiuted  preaching  in  a  friar's  hood,  nobody  imagines 
that  a  fox  is  meant,  but  that  craft  and  hypocrisy  are 
described,  which  arc  so  often  found  disguised  in  that 
garb."  At  these  words  the  poor  prior,  on  whom  the 
eyes  of  all  the  congregation  were  turned,  rose  and  left 
tlie  church  hastily,  and  ran  off  to  his  convent  to  hide 
his  rage  and  confusion  among  his  brethren.  The 
monks  and  their  creatures  uttered  loud  cries  against 
Latimer.  It  was  unpardonable,  they  said,  to  have 
been  thus  wanting  iu  respect  to  the  cowl  of  St. 
Francis.  But  his  friends  replied :  "  Do  we  not  whip 
ehiklren?  and  he  who  treats  Scripture  worse  than  a 
cliild,  docs  he  uot  deserve  to  be  well  flogged  ?" 

The  Komish  party  did  not  consider  themselves  beateu. 
The  heads  of  colleges  and  the  priests  held  frequent 
conferences.  The  professors  were  desired  to  watch 
carefully  over  their  pupils,  and  to  lead  them  back  to 
the  teaching  of  the  church,  by  flatteiy  and  by  threats. 
"  "SVe  are  putting  our  lance  in  rest,"  they  told  the 
students ;  "  if  you  become  evangelicals,  yovu-  advance- 
ment Js  at  an  end."  But  these  open-hearted  generous 
youths  loved  rather  to  be  poor  with  Christ,  tluiu  rich 
with  the  priests.  Stafford  continued  to  teach,  Latimer 
to  preach,  and  Biluey  to  visit  the  poor :  tlie  doctrine  of 
Christ  ceased  not  to  be  spread  abroad,  and  souls  to  be 
converted. 

One  weapon  only  was  left  to  the  schoolmen ;  this 
was  persecution,  the  favourite  arm  of  Rome.  "  Our 
enterprise  has  not  succeeded,"  said  they;  "Bucking- 
ham is  a  fool.  The  best  way  of  answering  these  gos- 
pellers is  to  prevent  their  speaking."  Dr.  West,  bishop 
of  Ely,  was  ordinary  of  Cambridge ;  they  called  for 
his  intervention,  aud  he  ordered  one  of  the  doctors  to 
inform  him  the  next  time  Latimer  was  to  preach ; 
"  but,"  added  he,  "  do  not  say  a  word  to  any  one.  I 
wish  to  come  without  being  expected." 

One  day  as  Latimer  was  preaching  iu  Latin,  ad 
clenim,  the  bishop  suddenly  entered  the  university 
church,  attended  by  a  luunber  of  j>riests.  Latimer 
stopped,  waiting  respectfidly  imtil  West  and  his  train 
had  taken  their  places.  "A  new  audience,"  thought 
he ;  "  and  besides,  an  audience  worthy  of  greater  hon- 
our calls  for  a  new  theme.  Leaving,  therefore,  the 
subject  I  had  proposed,  I  will  take  up  one  that 
relates  to  the  episcopal  charge,  and  will  preach  on 
these  words :  Christus  existens  Pontifex  futurorum  bo- 
norvm,"  (Hebrews  ix.  11.)  Then,  describing  Jesus 
Christ,  Latimer  represented  Him  as  tlie  "true  and 
perfect  pattern  unto  all  other  bishops."  There  was 
not  a  single  virtue  pointed  out  in  the  Divine  Bishop 
that  did  not  correspond  with  some  defect  in  the 
Romish  bishops.  Latimer's  caustic  wit  had  a  free 
course  at  their  expense;  but  there  was  so  much 
gravity  in  Us  sallies,  and  so  lively  a  Christianity  iu 
his  descriptions,  that  cveiy  one  must  hav3  felt  them 
to  be  tlie  cries  of  a  Christian  conscience,  rather  than 
the   sarcasms    of   on   ill-natured   disposition.     Never 


had  bishop  been  taught  by  one  of  his  priests  like 
this  man.  "  Alas ! "  said  many,  "  our  bishops  are  not 
of  that  breed:  they  arc  descended  from  Annas  and 
Caiaphas."  West  was  not  more  at  his  ease  than 
Buckingham  had  been  formerly.  Ho  stifled  his  anger, 
however;  aud  after  the  sermon,  said  to  Latimer  with 
a  gracious  accent:  "You  have  excellent  talents,  and 
if  you  woidd  do  one  tiling  I  should  be  ready  to  kiss 
your  feet."  .  .  .  What  humility  in  a  bishop !  .  . 
"Preach  in  this  same  church,"  continued  West,  "a 
sermon  .  .  .  against  Martin  Luther.  That  is  the 
best  way  of  checking  heresy."  Latimer  undei-stood 
the  prelate's  meaning,  and  replied  calmly:  "If  Luther 
preaches  the  Woi'd  of  God,  I  cannot  oppose  him. 
But  if  he  teaches  the  contraiy,  I  am  ready  to  at- 
tack him." — "  Well,  well,  Master  Latimer,"  exclamied 
the  bishop,  "I  perceive  that  you  smell  somewhat  of 
the  pan.  .  .  .  One  day  or  another  you  will  repent 
of  tliat  merchandise." 

West  having  left  Cambridge  in  great  ii-ritation 
against  that  rebellious  clerk,  hastened  to  convoke  Iiis 
chapter,  aud  forbade  Latimer  to  preach  either  in  i.ie 
university  or  in  the  diocese.  All  that  will  live  godbj 
shall  suffer  persecution,  St.  Paul  had  said:  Latimer 
was  now  experiencing  the  truth  of  the  saying.  It 
was  not  enough  that  the  name  of  heretic  had  been 
given  him  by  the  priests  and  their  friends,  and  that 
the  passers-by  insulted  him  in  the  streets;  .  .  . 
tlie  work  of  God  was  violently  checked.  "Behold, 
then,"  he  exclaimed,  with  a  bitter  sigh,  "  the  use  of 
the  episcopal  office  ...  to  binder  the  preaching 
of  Jesus  Christ ! "  Some  few  years  later  he  sketched, 
with  his  usual  caustic  irony,  the  portrait  of  a  certain 
bishop,  of  whom  Luther  also  used  frequently  to  speak  : 
"  Do  you  know,"  said  Latimer,  "  who  is  the  most 
diligentest  bishop  and  prelate  in  all  England  •  .  .  . 
I  see  you  listening  and  hearkening  that  I  should  name 
him.  ...  I  will  tell  you.  ...  It  is  the 
devil.  He  is  never  out  of  his  diocese ;  ye  shall  never 
find  him  out  of  the  way;  call  for  him  when  you  will, 
he's  ever  at  home.  He  is  ever  at  his  plough.  Ye 
shall  never  find  him  idle,  I  warrant  you.  AVhere  the 
devil  is  resident — there  away  with  books,  and  up  witli 
candles ;  away  with  Bibles,  aud  up  with  beads ;  away 
with  the  light  of  the  Gospel,  and  up  witli  the  light  of 
candles,  yea  at  noondays ;  down  with  Christ's  cross, 
up  with  purgatory  pick-purse ;  away  with  clotliing  the 
naked,  the  poor,  and  impotent,  up  with  decking  of 
images  and  gay  garnishing  of  stocks  and  stones ; 
down  with  God's  traditions  aud  His  most  holy  Word. 
.  .  .  Oh !  that  our  prelates  would  be  as  diligent 
to  sow  the  corn  of  good  doctrine  as  Satan  is  to  sow 
cockle  and  darnel ! "  Truly  may  it  be  said,  "  There 
was  never  such  a  preacher  in  England  as  he  is." 

The  reformer  was  not  satisfied  with  merely  speak- 
ing :  he  acted.  "  Neither  the  menacing  words  of  his 
adversaries,  nor  their  cruel  imprisonments,"  says  one 
of  his  contemporaries,  "  could  hinder  him  from  pro- 
claiming God's  truth."  Forbidden  to  preach  in  the 
churches,  he  went  about  from  house  to  house.  He 
longed  for  a  pulpit,  however,  and  this  he  obtained. 
A  hauglity  prelate  had,  in  vain,  interdicted  his  preach- 
ing; Jesus  Christ,  who  is  above  all  bishops,  is  able, 
when   one   door  is   shut,   to   open  another.      Instead 


EGBERT  BARNES-JOHN  FRYTH. 


C39 


of  one  great  preacher  there  were  soou  two  at  Cam- 
bridge. 

An  Augustine  monk  named  Robert  Barnes,  a  native 
of  the  county  of  Norfolk,  aud  a  great  scholar,  had 
gone  to  Louvain  to  ])roseciitc  his  studies.  Here  he 
received  the  degree  of  doctor  of  divinity,  and  haviug 
returned  to  Cambridge,  was  nominated  prior  of  his 
monastery  in  1523.  It  was  his  fortune  to  reconcile 
learning  and  the  (iospel  in  the  university;  but  by  lean- 
ing too  much  to  learning,  he  diminished  the  force  of 
the  AVord  of  God.  A  great  crowd  collected  every 
day  in  the  Augustine  convent  to  hear  his  lectures  upon 
Terence,  and,  in  particular,  upon  Cicero.  Many  of 
those  -who  were  oftVndc<l  by  tlie  simple  Christianity  of 
Bilney  and  Latimer,  were  attracted  liy  tliis  reformer  of 
another  kind.  Coleman,  Covordale,  Field,  Cambridge, 
Barley,  aud  many  other  young  men  of  the  university, 
gathered  round  Barnes  aud  proclaimed  him  "  the  re- 
storer of  letters." 

But  the  Classics  were  only  a  preparatory  teaching. 
The  masterpieces  of  antiquity  having  aided  Barnes  to 
clear  the  soil,  he  opened  before  his  class  the  epistles  of 
St.  Paul.  He  did  not  understand  their  Divine  depth, 
like  Stafford ;  he  was  not,  like  him,  anointed  with  the 
Holy  Ghost;  he  differed  from  him  on  several  of  the 
apostle's  doctrines,  on  justification  by  faith,  aud  on 
the  new  creature ;  but  Barnes  was  an  enlightened  and 
liberal  man,  not  ^xathout  some  degree  of  piety,  aud 
desirous,  like  Stafford,  of  substituting  the  teaching  of 
Scriptm-e  for  the  barren  disputations  of  the  school. 
But  they  soon  came  into  collision,  aud  Cambridge 
long  remembered  that  celebrated  discussion,  in  which 
Barnes  aud  Stafford  contended  mth  so  much  renoTvu, 
employing  no  other  weapons  than  the  Word  of  God, 
to  the  great  astonishment  of  the  blind  doctors,  and 
the  gi-eat  Joy  of  the  clear-sighted,  says  the  chronicler. 

Barues  was  not  as  yet  thoroughly  enlightened,  aud 
the  friends  of  the  Gospel  were  astonished  that  a  man, 
a  stranger  to  the  truth,  should  deal  such  heavy  blows 
against  error.  Bilney,  whom  wo  continually  meet  with 
when  any  secret  work,  a  work  of  iiTesistible  charity, 
is  in  hand, — Bilney,  who  had  converted  Latimer,  under- 
took to  convert  Barnes  ;  aud  Stafford,  Arthur,  Thistel 
of  Pembroke,  and  Foolse  of  Beuet's,  earnestly  prayed 
God  to  grant  His  assistance.  The  experiment  was 
diflicult :  Barnes  had  reached  that  juste  milieu,  that 
"  golden  mean  "  of  the  Hiunanists,  that  uitoxication  of 
learning  and  gloiy,  which  render  conversion  more  diffi- 
cult. Besides,  coidd  a  man  like  Bilney  really  dare  to 
instruct  the  restorer  of  antiquity?  But  the  humble 
baclielor  of  arts,  so  simple  in  appearance,  knew,  like 
David  of  old,  a  secret  power  by  which  the  Goliath  of 
the  university  might  be  vanquished.  He  passed  days 
and  nights  in  prayer ;  and  then  urged  Barnes  openly  to 
manifest  his  convictions,  without  fearing  the  reproaches 
of  the  world.  After  many  conversations  and  prayers, 
Barnes  was  converted  to  the  Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ. 
Still,  the  prior  retaiued  something  undecided  in  his 
character,  and  only  half  relinquished  that  middle  state 
with  which  he  had  begim.  For  instance,  he  appears 
to  have  always  believed  in  the  eSicacy  of  sacerdotal 
consecration  to  transform  the  bread  and  wiue  into  the 
body  and  blood  of  Christ.  His  eye  was  not  single, 
and  his  mind  was  often  agitated  and  driven  to  and  fro 


by  contrary  thouglits :  "  Alas !"  said  this  divided  cha- 
racter one  day,  "  I  confess  that  my  cogitations  be  in- 
nimierable." 

Barnes,  having  como  to  a  knowledge  of  tlic  truth, 
immediately  displayed  a  zeal  that  was  somewhat  iin- 
l>rudcnt.  Men  of  the  least  decided  character,  and  even 
tliose  who  arc  destined  to  make  a  signal  fall,  are  often 
those  who  begin  their  course  with  the  greatest  ardour. 
Barnes  seemed  prepared  at  this  time  to  withstand  all 
Euglaud.  Being  now  imited  to  Latimer  by  a  tender 
Christian  affection,  he  was  indignant  that  the  powerful 
voice  of  his  friend  should  be  lost  to  tlie  church.  "The 
bishop  has  forbidden  you  to  preach,"  he  said  to  him ; 
"  but  my  monastery  is  not  under  episcopal  jurisdiction. 
You  can  preach  there."  Latimer  went  into  the  pul|)it 
at  the  Augustine's,  aud  the  church  could  not  contain 
the  crowd  that  flocked  to  it.  At  Cambridge,  a.s  at 
AVittemberg,  the  chapel  of  the  Augustine  monks  was 
used  for  the  first  struggles  of  the  Gospel.  It  was  here 
that  Latimer  delivered  some  of  his  best  sermous. 

A  very  different  man  from  Latimer,  and  particularly 
from  Barnes,  was  daily  gi-owiug  in  influence  among  the 
English  reformers :  this  was  Fryth.  Xo  one  was  more 
humble  than  he,  and  on  that  very  account  no  one  was 
stronger.  He  was  less  brilliant  than  Barues,  but  more 
solid.  He  might  have  penetrated  into  the  highest 
departments  of  science,  but  he  was  drawn  away  by 
the  deep  mysteries  of  God's  Word;  the  call  of  con- 
science prevailed  over  that  of  the  understanding.  He 
did  not  devote  the  energj'  of  his  soul  to  difficult  ques- 
tions ;  he  thirsted  for  God,  for  His  truth,  aud  for  His 
love.  Instead  of  propagating  his  particular  opinions, 
and  forming  divisions,  he  cluug  ouly  to  the  faith  which 
saves,  aud  advanced  the  domluion  of  true  unity.  This 
is  the  mark  of  the  great  servants  of  God.  Humble 
before  the  Lord,  mild  before  men,  and  even,  in  appear- 
ance, somewhat  timid,  Fiyth,  in  the  face  of  danger, 
displayed  an  intrepid  courage.  "  My  leai-ning  is  small," 
he  said ;  "  but  the  little  I  have  I  am  determined  to  give 
to  Jesus  Christ  for  the  building  of  his  temple." 

Latimer's  sermons,  Barnes's  ardour,  and  Fiyth's 
firmness,  excited  fresh  zeal  at  Cambridge.  They  knew 
what  was  going  on  in  Germany  and  Switzerland ;  shall 
the  English,  ever  in  front,  now  remain  in  the  rear? 
Shall  not  Latimer,  Biluey,  Stafford,  Barues,  and  Fryth, 
do  what  the  servants  of  God  are  doing  in  other  places  ? 

A  secret  ferment  aunoimced  an  ajiproaching  crisis : 
eveiy  one  expected  some  change  for  better  or  for 
worse.  The  evangelicals,  confident  in  the  truth,  and 
thinking  themselves  sure  of  victory,  resolved  to  fall 
upon  the  enemy  simidtaneously  on  several  points.  The 
Sunday  before  Christmas,  in  the  year  1525,  was  chosen 
for  this  great  attack.  While  Latimer  should  address 
the  crowtls  that  continued  to  fill  the  Augustine  chapel, 
and  others  were  preaching  in  other  jdaces,  Barnes  was 
to  deliver  a  sermon  in  one  of  the  churches  in  the  town. 
But  nothing  compromises  the  Gospel  so  much  as  a  dis- 
positiou  turned  towards  outward  things.  God,  who 
grants  His  blessing  only  to  undivided  hearts,  permitted 
this  general  'assault,  of  which  Barnes  was  to  be  the 
hero,  to  be  marked  by  a  defeat.  The  prior,  as  he  went 
into  the  pulpit,  thought  ouly  of  Wolsey.  As  the  repre- 
sentative of  the  popedom  in  England,  the  cardinal  was 
the  great  obstacle  to  the  Reformation.    Barnes  preached 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


from  the  epistle  for  the  day  Rejoice  in  the  Lord  alwai/, 
(Philippians  iv.  4-7.)  But  instead  of  announcing  Christ 
and  the  joy  of  the  Christian,  he  im25rudently  declaimed 
against  the  luxuiy,  pride,  and  diversions  of  the  church- 
men ;  and  everybody  understood  that  he  aimed  at  the 
cardinal.  He  described  those  magnificent  palaces,  that 
brilliant  suite,  those  scarlet  robes,  and  pearls,  and  gold, 
and  precious  stones,  and  all  the  prelate's  osteutatiou, 
so  little  in  keeping  (said  he)  with  the  stable  of  Bethle- 
hem. Two  fellows  of  King's  College,  Kobert  Ridley 
and  Walter  Preston,  i-elations  of  Tonstall,  bishop  of 
London,  who  were  intentionally  among  the  congi-cga- 
tion,  noted  down  in  theii-  tablets  the  prior's  imj/radent 
expressions. 

The  sermon  was  scarcely  over  when  the  stonn  broke 
out.  "  These  people  are  not  satisfied  with  propagat- 
ing monstrous  heresies,"  exclaimed  their  enemies  ;  "  but 
they  must  find  fault  with  the  powers  that  be.  To-day 
they  attack  the  cardinal,  to-morrow  they  will  attack 
the  king!"  Ridley  and  Preston  accused  Barnes  to  the 
vice-chancellor.  All  Cambridge  was  in  commotion. 
What!  Barnes,  the  Augustine  prior,  the  restorer  of 
letters,  accused  as  a  Lollard!     .     .  The  Gospel 

was  threatened  with  a  danger  more  formidable  than  a 
prison  or  a  scaffold.  The  friends  of  the  priests,  know- 
ing Barnes's  weakness,  and  even  his  vanity,  hoped  to 
obtain  of  him  a  disavowal  that  would  cover  the  evan- 
gelical party  with  shame.  "  What !"  said  these  dan- 
gerous counsellors  to  bira,  "  the  noblest  career  was 
open  to  you,  and  would  you  close  it?  .  .  .  Do, 
pray,  explain  away  your  sermon."  They  alarmed, 
tlicy  flattered  him  j  and  the  poor  prior  was  near  yield- 
ing to  their  solicitations.  "  Next  Sunday  you  will  read 
this  declaration,"  they  said  to  him.  Barnes  ran  over 
the  paper  put  into  his  hands,  and  saw  no  great  harm 
in  it.  However,  he  desired  to  shew  it  to  Bilney  and 
Stafford.  "  Beware  of  such  weakness,"  said  these 
faithful  men.  Barnes  then  recalled  his  promise,  and 
for  a  season  the  enemies  of  the  Gospel  were  silent. 


ST.    u'OHNS      CAMBRID 


Its  friends  worked  with  increased  energy.  The  fall 
from  which  one  of  their  companions  had  so  narrowly 
escaped  inspired  them  with  fresh  zeal.  The  more  inde- 
cision and  weakness  Barnes  had  shewn,  the  more  did 
his  brethren  flee  to  God  for  courage  and  firmness.  It 
was  reported,  moreover,  that  a  powerful  ally  was 
coming  across  the  sea,  and  that  the  Holy  Scriptures, 
translated  into  the  vulgar  tongue,  were  at  last  to  be 
given  to  the  people.  Wherever  the  Word  was  preached, 
there  the  congregation  was  largest.  It  was  the  seed- 
time of  the  Church ;  all  were  busy  in  the  fields  to  pre- 
pare the  soil  and  trace  the  furrows.  Seven  colleges  at 
least  were  in  full  ferment :  Pembroke,  St.  John's, 
Queen's,  King's,  Cains,  Benet's,  and  Peterhouse,  The 
Gospel  was  preached  at  the  Augustine's,  at  St.  Mary's, 
(the  university  church,)  and  in  otlier  places  ;  and  when 
the  bells  rang  to  prayers,  the  streets  were  alive  with 
students  issuing  from  the  colleges,  and  hastening  to  the 
sermon. 

There  was  at  Cambridge  a  house  called  the  White 
Horse,  so  situated  as  to  permit  the  most  timid  members 
of  King's,  Queen's,  and  St.  John's  colleges,  to  enter  at 
the  rear  without  being  perceived.  Li  every  age  Nico- 
demus  has  had  his  followers.  Here  those  persons  used 
to  assemble  who  desired  to  read  the  Bible  and  the 
works  of  the  German  reformers.  The  priests,  looking 
upon  Wittemberg  as  the  focus  of  the  Reformation, 
named  this  house  Germany ;  the  people  will  always 
have  their  bywords.  At  first  the  frequenters  of  the 
White  Horse  were  called  sophists ;  and  now,  whenever 
a  group  of  "  fellows  "  was  seen  walking  in  that  direction, 
the  cry  was  ;  "  There  are  the  Germans  going  to  Ger- 
many." — "  We  are  not  Germans,"  was  the  reply ; 
''  neither  are  we  Romans."  The  Greek  New  Testament 
had  made  them  Cliristians.  The  Gospel-meetings  had 
never  been  more  fervent.  Some  attended  them  to 
commimicate  the  new  life  they  possessed  j  others  to 
receive  what  God  had  given  to  the  more  advanced 
brethren  The  Holy  Spirit  united  them  all,  and  thus, 
by  the  fellowship  of  the  saints,  were 
leil  churches  created.  To  these  young 
"^  ,  Cliii  tnns   the  Word   of   God  was   the 

^    ~^  ouue  of  so  much  light,  that  they  ima- 

^nicd    themselves    transported    to    that 
heavenly  city  of  which  the   Scriptures 
peak      u'/iich  had  no  need   of  the  sun, 
I  I  the  qlory  oj  God  did  lighten  it.     "  So 
tt  IS  I  was  in  the  company  of  these 
1  1 1  tin  en,"  said  a  youthful  student  of  St. 
u   ,  "  methought  I  was  quietly  placed 
the  new  glorious  Jerusalem." 
Similar  things  were  taking  place  at 
«i\foid      In    1524  and   1525,  Wolsey 
ftl'iAll  lI      '' "^  successively  invited  thither  several 
l?!iili!'W      C  imbiidge  fellows;  and  although  only 
el  ing  the  most  able,  he  found  that  he 
1  tikon  some  of  the  most  pious.     Be- 
1       John   Clark,  there  were   Richard 
\   Jolin  Fryer,  Godfrey  Harmau,  W, 
tt  ,  Henry  Sumner,  AV.  Baily,  Michael 
Diumm,  Til.  Lawuey,  and,  lastly,  the 
Lxeellent  John  Fryth.    These  Christians, 
lb  ociatiug  with  Clark,  with  his  faithful 
Dalaber,  and  with  other  evangelicals  of 


MEETINGS  AT  OXFORD. 


641 


Oxford,  held  iuei!tiiij;s,  like  their  Caiubrid<j;o  brethren, 
at  which  God  maiiitVst.^d  His  pri'^enoc.  The  bishops 
made  war  upon  the  Gospel;  the  kin;.' supported  them 
with  all  his  power;  but  the  Word  had  gained  the 
victory  j  there  was  no  longer  any  doubt.  Tlie  Church 
was  born  again  in  England. 

The  great  movomont  of  the  sixteenth  ccntuiy  had 
begun  more  parlLulnly  ;iiiim:ii;  t  lie  younger  doctors  and 
stiulents  at  Oxfonl  ;t\\<i  ( ';.iiil.ii(lge.  From  them  it  was 
necessary  that  it  sli.nil.l  ]n-  extruded  to  the  people,  and 
for  that  end  tlie  New  Testament,  hitherto  read  in  Latin 
and  in  Greek,  must  be  circulated  in  English.  The  voices 
of  these  youthful  evangelists  were  hoard,  indeed,  in 
London  and  in  the  provinces;  but  their  exhortations 
would  have  been  insufficient,  if  the  mighty  hand  which 
directs  all  things  had  not  made  this  Christian  activity 
coincide  with   that  holy   work    for  which   it  had  set 


Tyndalo  apart.  AVhile  all  was  agitation  in  England, 
tlie  waves  of  ocean  were  bearing  from  the  Continent  to 
the  banks  of  the  Thames  tlm^r  Script ures  of  God, 
wliieh,  three  centuries  later,  iii\ilti[ilii-d  Ijy  thousands 
and  by  millions,  and,  translated  into  a  hundred  and  lifty 
tongues,  were  to  be  wafti-d  from  tlic  same  banks  to  the 
ends  of  the  world.  If,  in  the  tiftcciitli  century,  and  even 
in  the  early  years  of  tlie  sixteenth,  the  English  New 
Testament  had  been  brought  to  London,  it  would  only 
have  fallen  into  the  hands  of  a  few  Lollards.  Now,  in 
every  place, — in  the  parsonages,  the  universities,  and  the 
palaces,  as  well  as  in  the  cottages  of  the  husbandmen 
and  the  shops  of  the  tradesmen,  there  was  an  ardent 
desire  to  possess  the  Holy  Scriptures.  TUoJiut  lii.v  was 
about  to  bo  uttered  over  the  chaos  of  the  Church,  and 
light  to  be  separated  from  darkness  by  the  Word  of 
God. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


BOOK     XIX. 


THE   ENGLISH   NEW   TESTAMENT   AND   THE   COUKT   OF   KOJIE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

C'lmrch  and  State  esqoi  tnllj  Distinet— Tli  u  fundamental  Principles— 
■\\Int  1  -.t  ic  Life  t3  the  Chtireh— Separation  fiorn  Rome  neces<iary— 
Refoim  and  Libeit\— The  ^ew  Testament  ciosaes  the  Sea— Is  hidden 
m  L  ndon— C  i  a  Ti  i  1  n  and  Zeal— Dmu  in  t  nn  of  Sciiptnie 
— ^\h^t  the  1  I  I  1      I         — Tindales  Ex- 

ll  m  1  1  s-r  Ule  s  Testa- 

ment t    0\f     1—  !  the  Beggars 

— Twj  So  tb       1  -  J  '^  ippheatleins 

of  the  boulb  m  P    „  t  i } 

The  Church  and  the  State  are  essentially  distinct. 
They  both  receive  their  task  from  God  ;  but  that  task 
is  diiTereut  in  each.  The  task  of  the  Church  is  to  lead 
men  to  God;  the  task  of  the  State  is  to  secure  the 
earthly  development  of  a  people  in  conformity  with  its 
peculiar  character.  There  are  certain  bounds,  traced 
by  the  particular  spirit  of  each  nation,  within  which 
the  State  should  confine  itself ;  while  the  Church,  whose 
limits  are  co-extensive  with  the  human  race,  has  a  uni- 
versal character,  which  raises  it  above  all  national 
differences.  These  two  distinctive  features  should  be 
maintained.  A  State  which  aims  at  universality  loses 
itself ;  a  Church  whose  mind  and  aim  are  sectarian  falls 
away.  Nevertheless,  the  Church  and  the  State,  the 
two  poles  of  social  life,  while  they  are,  in  many  re- 
spects, opposed  to  one  another,  are  far  from  excluding 
each  other  absolutely.  The  Church  has  need  of  that 
justice,  order,  and  liberty,  which  the  State  is  bound  to 
maintain ;  but  the  State  has  especial  need  of  the  Church. 
If  Jesus  can  do  without  kings  to  establish  His  kingdom, 
kings  cannot  do  without  Jesus  if  they  would  have  their 
kingdoms  prosper.  Juctice,  which  is  the  fundamental 
principle  of  the  State,  is  continually  fettered  in  its  pro- 
gress by  the  internal  power  of  sin  ;  and  as  force  can  do 
nothing  against  tliis  power,  the  State  requires  the  Gos- 
pel in  order  to  overcome  it.  That  country  will  always 
be  the  most  prosperous  where  the  Church  is  the  most 
evangelical.  These  two  communities  having  thus  need 
one  of  the  other,  wo  must  be  prepared,  whenever  a 
great  religious  manifestation  takes  place  in  the  world, 
to  witness  the  appearance  on  the  scene  not  only  of  the 
little  ones,  but  of  the  great  ones  also,  of  the  State. 
We  must  not  then  be  surprised  to  meet  with  Henry 
VIII.,  but  let  us  endeavour  to  appreciate  accurately 
the  part  he  played. 

If  the  Reformation,  particularly  in  England,  hap- 
pened necessarily  to  be  mixed  up  with  the  State,  with 
the  world  even,  it  originated  neither  in  the  State  nor 
in  the  world.  There  was  much  worldliness  in  the 
age  of  Henry  VHI., — passions,  violence,  festivities,  a 
trial,  a  divorce;  and  some  historians  call  that  tlie 
historij  of  the  Eeformation  in  England.  We  shall  not 
pass  by  in  silence  these  manifestations  of  the  worldly 


life;  opposed  as  they  are  to  the  Christian  life,  they 
are  in  histoiy,  and  it  is  not  our  business  to  tear  them 
out.  But  most  assuredly  they  are  not  the  Reforma- 
tion. From  a  very  different  quarter  proceeded  the 
Divine  light  which  then  rose  upon  the  human  race. 

To  say  that  Henry  VIII.  was  the  reformer  of  h-s 
l^eople,  is  to  betray  our  ignorance  of  history.  The 
kingly  power  in  England  by  turns  opposed  and  fa- 
voured the  reform  in  the  Church ;  but  it  opposed 
before  it  favoured,  and  much  more  than  it  favoured. 
This  great  transformation  was  begun  and  extended  by 
its  own  strength,  by  the  Spirit  from  on  high. 

"When  the  Church  has  lost  the  life  that  is  pecidiar  to 
it,  it  must  again  put  itself  in  communication  with  its 
creative  principle — that  is,  with  the  Word  of  God. 
Just  as  the  buckets  of  a  wheel  employed  in  irrigating 
the  meadows  have  no  sooner  discharged  their  reviving 
waters,  than  they  dip  again  into  the  stream  to  be  re- 
filled, so  every  generation,  void  of  the  Spirit  of  Christ, 
must  return  to  the  Divine  source  to  be  again  filled  up. 
The  primitive  words  which  created  the  Church  have 
been  preserved  for  us  in  the  Gospels,  the  Acts,  and 
the  Epistles ;  and  the  humble  reading  of  these  Divine 
writings  will  create  in  every  age  the  communion  of 
saints.  God  was  the  father  of  the  Reformation,  not 
Henry  VIII.  The  visible  world  which  then  glittered 
with  such  brightness ;  those  princes  and  sports,  those 
noblemen,  and  trials,  and  laws,  far  from  effecting  a 
reform,  were  calculated  to  stifle  it.  But  the  light  and 
the  warmth  came  from  heaven,  and  the  new  creation 
was  completed. 

In  the  reign  of  Henry  VHI.  a  great  number  of 
citizens,  priests,  and  noblemen,  possessed  that  degree  of 
cultivation  which  favours  the  action  of  the  holy  books. 
It  was  sufficient  for  this  Divine  seed  to  bo  scattered 
on  the  well-pi-epared  soil  for  the  woi'k  of  germination 
to  be  accomplished. 

A  time  not  less  important  also  was  approaching— 
that  in  which  the  action  of  the  popedom  was  to  come 
to  an  end.  The  hour  had  not  yet  struck.  God  was 
first  creating  within,  by  His  Word,  a  spiritual  Church, 
before  He  broke  without  by  His  dispensations  the  bonds 
which  had  so  long  fastened  England  to  the  power  of 
Rome.  It  was  His  good  pleasure  first  to  give  truth 
and  life,  and  then  liberty.  It  has  been  said  that  if  the 
pope  had  consented  to  a  reform  of  abuses  and  doctrines, 
on  condition  of  his  keeping  his  position,  the  religious 
revolution  would  not  have  been  satisfied  at  that  price ; 
and  that  after  demanding  reform,  the  next  demand 
would  have  been  for  liberty.  The  only  reproach  that 
can  be  made  to  this  assertion  is,  that  it  is  superabun- 
dantly true.  Liberty  was  an  integral  part  of  tlie 
Reformation,  and  one  of  the  changes  imperatively 
required  was  to  withdraw  religious  authority  from  the 


ARRIViVL  OF  THE  NEW  TESTAMENT. 


G43 


j)opo,  ami  restore  it  to  the  AVonl  of  God.  In  tlie 
sixtoontli  century  tlioi-e  was  a  j>:rcat  outpouring  of  the 
Christian  life  in  Franco,  Italy,  and  Siiain ;  it  is 
atlosted  by  martyrs  without  number,  and  history  shews 
that  to  transform  these  three  groat  nations,  all  that  tlie 
Gospel  wanti'd  was  liberty.  "If  we  had  set  to  work 
two  months  later,"  said  a  grand  inquisitor  of  Spain, 
who  had  dyed  himself  in  the  blood  of  the  saints,  "it 
would  have  been  too  late:  Spain  would  have  been  lost 
I  to  the  Konmn  Church."  AVe  may  therefore  believe, 
that  if  Italy,  France,  and  Spain,  had  had  some  generous 
king  to  check  the  myrmidons  of  the  pope,  those  three 
countries,  carried  along  by  the  renovating  power  of  the 
Gospel,  would  have  entered  upon  an  era  of  liberty  and 
faith. 

The  struggles  of  Engla ml  with  the  popedom  began 
.shortly  after  the  dissemination  of  the  English  New 
Testament  by  Tyudale.  The  ei)och  at  which  we  are 
arrived,  accordingly  brings  in  one  view  before  oui"  eyes 
both  the  Testament  of  Jesus  Christ  and  the  court  of 
Rome.  AVc  can  thus  study  the  nicu,  (the  reformers 
and  the  Romanists,)  and  the  works  they  produce,  and 
arrrivc  at  a  just  valuation  of  the  two  great  principles 
which  dispute  the  possession  of  authority  iu  the  Chm-ch. 

It  was  about  the  close  of  the  year  1525  ;  the  English 
New  Testament  was  crossing  the  sea ;  five  pious 
llansoatic  merchants  had  taken  charge  of  the  books. 
Captivated  by  the  Holy  Scriptures,  they  had  taken 
them  on  board  their  si  ips,  hidden  them  among  their 
merchandise,  and  theu  made  sail  from  Antwerp  for 
London. 

Thus  those  prec-Icm-  ]m'jv^  were  ai)proachiug  England 
■which  were  to  luciinr  ii~  lijiit  and  the  source  of  its 
gi-eatness.  The  m.  icliant.-.  \\  hose  zeal  unh.ippily  cost 
them  dear,  were  not  without  akirm.  Had  not  Cochloeus 
caused  orders  to  be  sent  to  every  port,  to  pi-eveut  the 
entrance  of  the  precious  cargo  they  wore  bringing  to 
England?  They  arrived  and  cast  anchor;  they  lowered 
the  boat  to  reach  the  shore ;  what  were  they  likely  to 
meet  there  ?  TonstaU's  agents,  no  doubt,  and  "Wolsey's, 
and  Henry's,  ready  to  take  away  their  New  Testa- 
ments!  They  landed,  and  soon  again  returned  to 
the  ship ;  boats  passed  to  and  fro,  and  the  vessel 
was  imloaded.  No  enemy  appeared ;  and  no  one 
seemed  to  imagine  that  these  shijis  contained  so  great  a 
treasure. 

Just  at  the  tiiiie  this  invaluable  cargo  was  ascending 
the  river,  an  in\  i-ll.lc  hand  had  dispersed  the  preventive 
guard.  T.KiMiill.  ll>li,,p  of  London,  had  been  sent  to 
Spain  :  AVol.s.y  nvus  oe<;upied  in  political  combinations 
with  Scotland,  France,  and  the  enipu-e  ;  Henry  VHI., 
driven  from  his  capital  by  an  unhealthy  winter,  was 
passing  the  Christmas  holidays  at  Eltham ;  and  even 
the  courts  of  justice,  alarmed  by  an  extr.aordinary 
mortality,  had  suspended  tlieir  sittings.  God,  if  we 
may  so  speak,  had  sent  His  angel  to  remove  the 
guards. 

Seeing  nothing  that  could  stop  them,  the  iivo  mer- 
chants, whose  establishment  was  at  the  Steel  yard  in 
Thames  Street,  hastened  to  conceal  their  precious  charge 
in  their  warehouses.  But  who  will  receive  them  ? 
Wlio  will  undertake  to  distribute  these  Holy  Scriptures 
iu  London,  Oxford,  Cambridge,  and  all  England  ?     It 


is  a  little  matter  that  they  have  crossed  the  sea.  The 
])rincipal  instrument  God  was  about  to  use  for  their 
dissemination  was  an  humble  servant  of  Christ. 

In  Honey  Lane,  a  narrow  thoroughfare  adjoining 
Choapside,  stood  the  old  church  of  All  Hallows,  of 
which  Robert  Fornuui  was  rector.  His  curat<'.  was  a, 
plain  man,  of  lively  imagination,  delicate  conscience, 
and  timid  disposition,  but  rendered  bold  by  his  faith, 
to  which  he  was  to  become  a  martyr.  Thomas  Garret, 
for  that  was  his  name,  having  believed  in  the  Gospel, 
earnestly  called  his  hearers  to  repentance ;  he  lU'ged 
upon  them  that  works,  however  good  they  might  be  in 
appearance,  were  by  no  means  capable  of  justifying  the 
sinner,  and  that  faith  alone  could  save  him.  He  main- 
tained that  every  man  had  the  right  to  preach  the  "Word 
of  God ;  and  called  those  bishops  iiharisees  who  per- 
secuted Christian  men.  Garret's  discourses,  at  once  so 
rpiickening  and  so  gentle,  attracted  great  crowds ;  and 
to  many  of  his  hearers  the  street  in  which  he  preached 
was  rightly  named  Honey  Lane,  for  there  they  found 
the  Jwnei/  out  of  the  rock.  But  Garret  was  about  to 
commit  a  fault  still  more  heinous  in  the  eyes  of  the 
priests  than  preaching  faith.  The  Hanse  merchants 
were  seeking  some  sure  place  where  they  might  store 
up  the  New  Testaments  and  other  books  sent  from 
Germany;  the  curate  offered  his  house,  stealthily 
trausported  the  holy  deposit  thither,  hid  them  in  the 
most  secret  corners,  and  kept  a  faithful  watch  over 
this  sacred  libraiy.  He  did  not  confine  liimself  to  this. 
Night  and  day  he  studied  the  holy  books;  he  held 
Gospel  meetings,  read  the  AVord,  and  explained  its 
doctrines  to  the  citizens  of  London.  At  last,  not 
satisfied  with  being  at  once  student,  librarian,  and 
preacher,  he  became  a  trader,  and  sold  the  New 
Testament  to  laymen,  and  even  to  priests  and  monks, 
so  that  the  Holy  Scriptures  were  dispersed  over  the 
whole  realm.  This  humble  and  timid  priest  was  then 
performing  alone  the  biblical  work  of  England. 

And  thus  the  ATord  of  God,  presented  by  Erasmus 
to  the  learned  in  1517,  was  given  to  the  people  by 
Tyndale  iu  1526.  In  the  parsonages  and  iu  the  convent 
cells,  but  particularly  in  shops  and  cottages,  a  crowd 
of  persons  were  studying  the  New  Testament.  The 
clearness  of  tlie  Holy  Scriptures  struck  each  reader. 
None  of  the  systematic  or  aphoristic  forms  of  the  School 
were  to  be  found  there ;  it  was  the  language  of  human 
life  whiclx  they  discovered  in  those  Divine  writings : 
hero  a  conversation,  there  a  discourse;  here  a  narrative, 
and  there  a  comparison ;  here  a  command,  and  there 
an  argument ;  here  a  parable,  luid  there  a  prayer.  It 
was  not  all  doctrine  or  all  history;  but  these  two 
elements  mingled  togetlier  made  an  admirable  whole. 
Above  all,  the  life  of  our  Saviour,  so  Divine  and  so 
human,  had  an  inexpressible  charm  which  captivated 
the  simple.  One  work  of  Jesus  Christ  explained 
another,  and  the  great  facts  of  the  redemption,  birth, 
death,  and  resurrection,  of  the  Son  of  God,  and  tho 
sending  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  followed  and  completed 
each  other.  The  authority  of  Christ's  teaching,  so 
strongly  contrasting  with  the  doubts  of  the  Schools, 
increased  the  clearness  of  His  discourses  to  his  readers ; 
for  the  more  certain  a  truth  is,  the  more  distinctly  it 
strikes  the  mind.  Academical  explanations  were  not 
necessary  to  those  noblemen,  farmers,  and  citizeus.    It 


644 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


is  to  me,  for  me,  and  of  me,  that  this  book  speaks,  said 
each  one.  It  is  I  whom  all  these  promises  and  teachings 
concern.  This  fall  and  this  restoration,  .  .  .  they 
are  mine.  That  old  death  and  this  new  life,  .  .  . 
I  have  passed  through  them.  That  Jlesh  and  that 
stpirit,  ...  I  know  them.  This  law  and  this  grace, 
thin  fait/i,  these  works,  this  slaverij,  this  glory,  this  Christ, 
and  this  Belial,  .  .  .  all  are  familiar  to  me.  It  is 
ray  own  history  that  I  find  iu  this  book.  Thus,  by  the 
aid    of   the    Holy   Ghost,   each    one    had    in   his   own 


ELTHAM  PALACE, 
experience  a  key  to  the  mysteries  of  tlie  Bible.  To 
understand  certain  autliors  and  certain  philosophers, 
the  intellectual  life  of  the  reader  must  be  in  harmony 
with  theirs ;  so  must  there  be  an  intimate  affinity  with 
the  holy  books  to  penetrate  their  mysteries.  "The  man 
that  has  not  the  Spirit  of  God,"  said  a  reformer,  "  does 
not  understand  one  jot  or  tittle  of  the  Scrijjtm-e." 
Now  that  this  condition  was  fulfilled,  the  Spirit  of  God 
moved  upon  the  face  of  the  waters. 

Such,  at  that  period,  were  the  hermeueutics  of 
England.  Tyndale  had  set  the  example  himself  by 
explaining  many  of  the  words  which  might  stop  the 
reader.  "  The  Kew  Testament .'"  we  may  suppose  some 
farmer  saying,  as  he  took  up  the  book  ;  "  what  'Testa- 
ment is  that?" — "Christ,"  replied  Tyndale,  in  his  pro- 
logue, "  commanded  His  disciples  before  His  death  to 
publish  over  all  the  world  His  last  ivill,  which  is  to  give 
all  His  goods  unto  all  that  repent  and  believe.  He 
bequeaths  them  His  righteousness  to  blot  out  their  sins 
— His  salvation  to  overcome  their  condemnation ;  and 
this  is  why  that  document  is  called  the  Testament  of 
Jesus  Christ." 

"  The  Law  and  the  Gospel,"  said  a  citizen  of  London 
in  his  shop;  "what  is  that?" — "They  are  two  keys," 
answered  Tyndale.  "  The  Laiv  is  the  key  which  shuts 
up  all  men  imder  condemnation,  and  the  Gospel  is  the 
key  wliich  opens  the  door  and  lets  them  out.  Or,  if 
you  like  it,  they  are  two  salves.  The  Law,  sharp  and 
biting,  driveth  out  the  disease  and  killeth  it ;  while  the 
Gospel,  soothing  and  soft,  softens  the  wound  and  brings 
life."  Eveiy  one  understood  and  read,  or  rather  de- 
Tom-ed  the  inspired  pages ;  and  the  hearts  of  the  elect, 
(to  use  Tyndale's  words,)  warmed  by  the  love  of  Jesus 
Christ,  began  to  melt  like  wax. 


This  transformation  was  observed  to  take  place  even 
in  the  most  catholic  families.  Roper,  More's  son-in- 
law,  having  read  the  New  Testament,  received  the 
truth.  "  I  have  no  more  need,"  said  he,  "  of  auricular 
confession,  of  vigils,  or  of  the  invocation  of  saints. 
The  ears  of  God  are  always  open  to  hear  us.  Faith 
alone  is  necessary  to  salvation.  I  believe  .  .  . 
and  I  am  saved.  .  .  .  Nothing  can  deprive  me  of 
God's  favour." 

The  amiable  and  zealous  young  man  desu-ed  to  do 
more.  "  Father,"  said  he,  one  day  to  Sir  Thomas, 
"  procure  for  me  from  the  king,  who  is  very  fond  of 
you,  a  license  to  preach.  God  hath  sent  me  to  in- 
struct the  world."  More  was  uneasy.  Must  this  new 
doctrine,  which  he  detests,  spread  even  to  his  children  ? 
He  exerted  all  his  authority  to  destroy  the  work  begun 
in  Roper's  heart.  "  What,"  said  he  with  a  smile,  "  is 
it  not  sufficient  that  we  that  are  your  friends  should 
know  that  you  are  a  fool,  but  you  would  proclaim  your 
folly  to  the  world  ?  Hold  your  tongue :  I  will  debate 
with  you  no  longer."  The  young  man's  imagination 
was  struck,  but  his  heart  had  not  been  changed.  The 
discussions  having  ceased,  the  father's  authority  being 
restored.  Roper  became  less  fervent  in  his  faith,  and 
gradually  he  returned  to  Popery,  of  which  he  was  after- 
wards a  zealous  champion. 

The  humble  curate  of  All  Hallows  having  sold  the 
New  Testament  to  persons  living  in  London  and  its 
neighbourhood,  and  to  many  pious  men  who  would 
carry  it  to  the  farthest  parts  of  England,  formed  the 
resolution  to  introduce  it  into  the  University  of  Oxford, 
that  citadel  of  traditional  Catholicism.  It  was  there  he 
liad  studied,  and  he  felt  towards  that  school  the  affec- 
tion which  a  soa  bears  to  his  mother:  he  set  out  with 
his  books.  Terror  occasionally  seized  him,  for  he  knew 
that  the  AVord  of  God  had  many  deadly  enemies  at 
Oxford ;  but  his  inexliaustible  zeal  overcame  his 
timidity.  Iu  consort  with  Dalaber,  he  stealthily  offered 
the  mysterious  book  for  sale;  many  students  bought  it, 
and  Garret  carefully  entered  their  names  in  his  register. 
This  was  in  January,  1526  ;  an  incident  distm-bed  this 
Christian  activity. 

One  morning,  when  Edmimd  Moddis,  one  of  Henry's 
valets-de-chambre,  was  in  attendance  on  his  master, 
the  prince,  who  was  much  attached  to  him,  spoke  to 
him  of  the  new  books  come  from  beyond  tlie  sea.  "  If 
your  grace,"  said  Moddis,  "  would  promise  to  pardon 
me  and  certain  individuals,  I  would  present  you  a 
wonderful  book  which  is  dedicated  to  your  majesty." 
"  AVho  is  the  author  ? " — "  A  lawyer  of  Gray's  Inn 
named  Simon  Fish,  at  present  on  the  Continent." 
"  What  is  he  doing  there  ?  " — "  About  three  years  ago, 
Mr.  Row,  a  fellow-student  of  Gray's  Inn,  composed 
for  a  private  theatre  a  drama  against  my  lord  the 
cardinal."  The  king  smiled ;  when  his  minister  was 
attacked,  his  own  yoke  seemed  lighter.  "  As  no  one 
was  willing  to  represent  the  character  employed  to  give 
the  cardinal  his  lesson,"  continued  the  valet,  "  Master 
Fish  boldly  accepted  it.  The  piece  produced  a  great 
effect ;  and  my  lord,  being  informed  of  this  imperti- 
nence, sent  the  police  one  night  to  arrest  Fish.  The 
latter  managed  to  escape,  crossed  the  sea,  joined  one 
Tyndale,  the  author  of  some  of  the  books  so  much 
talked  of;  and,  carried  away  by  his  friend's  example, 


THE  SUPPLICATION  OF  THE  BEGGAES 


he  composed  the  book  of  which  I  was  speaking  to 
your  grace."  "AVhat's  the  uamc  of  it?" — '"The 
Supplication  of  the  Beggars.'"  "  AVhere  did  yon  see 
it.'" — "At  two  of  your  tradespeople's,  George  Elyot 
and  George  Robinson  ;  if  your  grace  desires  it,  they 
shall  bring  it  you."  The  king  appointed  the  day  and 
the  liour. 

Tlie  book  was  written  for  the  king ;  and  evciybody 
read  it  but  the  king  himself.  At  the  appointed  day 
Moddis  appeai-ed  with  Elyot  and  Robinson,  who  were 
not  entirely  without  fear,  a.s  they  might  be  accused 
of  proselytisni  even  in  the  royal  palace.  The  king 
received  them  in  his  private  apartments.  "  AVhat  do 
you  want  ? "  lie  said  to  them. — "  Sir,"  replied  one  of 
the  merchants,  "  wo  arc  come  about  au  e.\traordinaiy 
book  that  is  addressed  to  you."  "Can  one  of  you 
read  it  to  me?" — "Yes,  if  it  so  please  your  grace," 
replied  Elyot.  "You  may  repeat  the  contents  from 
menioiy,"  rejoined  the  king,  ..."  but,  no, 
read  it  all;  that  will  be  better.  I  am  ready."  Elyot 
began : 

"  The  Si  tplication  of  the  Beggaks." 
"  To  the  king,  our  sovereign  lord, — 

"  Most  lamentably  coniplaineth  of  their  woeful 
misery,  unto  your  liiL'Iim  -<.  your  poor  daily  bedes- 
men, the  wretelied  liiil.  nii-  nmnsters,  on  whom  scarcely, 
for  horror,  any  eve  ibii«'  \'">k;  the  foul  unhappy  sort 
of  lepers  and  other  sore  jjcople,  needy,  impotent,  blind, 
lame,  and  sick,  that  live  only  by  alms ;  how  that  their 
number  is  daily  sore  increased,  that  all  the  alms  of  all 
the  well-disposed  people  of  this  your  realm  are  not  half 
enough  to  sustain  them,  but  that  for  veiy  constraint 
they  die  for  hunger. 

"And  this  most  pestUeut  mischief  is  come  upon  your 
said  poor  bedesmen,  by  the  reason  that  there  hatli,  in 
the  time  of  your  noble  predecessors,  craftily  crept  into 
this  your  realm,  another  sort,  not  of  impotent,  but  of 
strong,  puissant,  and  counterfeit,  holy  and  idle  beggars 
and  vagabonds,  who,  by  all  the  craft  and  -wiliness  of 
Satan,  are  now  increased  not  only  into  a  great  number, 
but  also  into  a  kingdom." 

Heniy  was  very  attentive :  Elj'Ot  continued  : — 

"These  are  not  the  shepherds,  but  the  ravenous 
wolves  going  in  shepherds'  clothing,  devouring  the 
flock :  bishops,  abbots,  prioi-s,  deacons,  archdeacons, 
suffragans,  priests,  monks,  canons,  friars,  pardoners, 
and  sumuers.  .  .  .  The  goodliest  lordships,  manors, 
lands,  and  territories,  are  theirs.  Besides  this,  they 
liave  the  tenth  part  of  all  the  corn,  meadow,  pasture, 
grass,  wood,  colts,  calves,  lambs,  pigs,  geese,  and 
chickens.  Over  and  besides,  the  tenth  part  of  every 
servant's  wages ;  the  tenth  part  of  wool,  milk,  honey, 
wax,  cheese,  and  butter.  The  poor  wives  must  be 
accountable  to  them  for  eveiy  tenth  egg,  or  else  she 
getteth  not  her  rights  [(".  c,  absolution]  at  Easter.  .  .. 
Finally,  what  get  they  in  a  year  ?  Siimma  totalis  : 
£430,333  Cs.  8d.  sterling;  whereof  not  four  himdrcd 
years  past  they  had  not  a  penny.     ,     .     . 

"What  subjects  shall  bo  able  to  help  their  prince, 
that  be  after  tliis  fashion  yearly  polled  >.  AVhat  good 
Christian  people  can  be  able  to  succour  ua  poor  lepers, 
blind,  sore,  and  lame,  that  be  thus  yearly  oppressed  1 
.     .     .     The  ancient  Romans  had  never  been  able  to 


have  put  iill  the  whole  world  under  their  obeisance, 
if  they  had  had  at  home  such  an  idle  sort  of  cormo- 

Xo  subject  coidJ  ha^-e  been  found  more  likely  to 
captivate  the  king's  attention.  "And  what  doth  all  this 
greedy  sort  of  sturdy,  idle,  holy  thieves,  with  their 
yearly  exactions,  that  they  take  of  the  people  ?  Truly 
nothing,  but  translate  all  rule,  power,  lordship, 
authority,  obedience,  and  dignity,  from  your  grace  unto 
them.  Nothing,  but  that  all  your  subjects  should  fall 
into  disobedience  and  rebellion.  .  .  .  Priest.s  and 
doves  make  foul  houses ;  aufl  if  you  will  ruin  a  state, 
sot  up  in  it  the  pope  with  his  monks  and  clergy.  .  . 
Send  these  sturdy  loobies  abroad  in  the  world  to  take 
them  wives  of  their  own,  and  to  get  their  living  with 

their  labour  in  the  sweat  of  their  faces 

Then  shall  your  commons  increase  in  riches ;  then 
shall  matrimony  be  much  better  kept;  then  shall  not 
your  sword,  power,  crown,  dignity,  and  obedience  of 
your  people  be  translated  from  you." 

AVhen   Elyot  had    finished   reading,    the   king  was 
silent,  sunk  in  thought.     The  true  cause  of  the  ruin  of 
the  state  had  been  laid  before  him  ;  but  Henry's  mind 
was  not  ripe  for  these  important  truths.     At  last  ho 
said,  with  an  uneasy  manner:  "If  a  man  who  desires 
to  pull  down  au  old  wall  begins  at  the  bottom,  I  fear 
the  upper  part  may  chance  to  fall  on  his  head."    Thus, 
then,  in  the  king's  eyes.  Fish,  by  attacking  the  priests,     I 
was  disturbing  the  foundations  of  religion  and  society. 
After  this  royal  verdict,  Henry  rose,  took  the  book,     j 
locked  it  up  in  his  desk,  and  forbade   the   two  mer- 
chants to  reveal  to  any  one  the  fact  of  their  having    | 
read  it  to  him.  j 

Shortly  after  the  king  had  received  this  copy,  on     | 
■\Vcdnesday,  the  2nd  of  February,  the  feast  of  Candle- 
mas, a  number  of  persons,  including  the  king  himself,     ' 
were  to  take  part  in  the  procession,  bearing  wax  tapers     [ 
in  their  hands.     During  the  night  this  famous  invec- 
tive was  scattered  about  all  the  streets  through  which 
the  procession  had  to  pass.     The  cardinal  ordered  the 
pamphlet  to  be  seized,  and  immediately  waited  upon 
the  king.     The  latter  put  his  hand  under  his  robe,  and 
with  a  smile,  took  out  the  so  much  dreaded  work,  and 
then,  as  if  satisfied  with  this  proof  of  independence,  he    j 
gave  it  up  to  the  cardiual.  I 

While  AVolsey  replied  to  Fish  by  confiscation,  Sir    I 
Thomas   More,   with  greater   liberality,   desiring  that     j 
press  should  reply  to  press,  published  "  The  Supplica-     ; 
tions  of  the  Souls  in  Purgatory."      "  Suppress,"  said     i 
they,  "  the  pious  stipends  paid  to  the  monks,  and  then 
Luther's  Gospel  will  come  in,  Tyndalo's  Testament  will     I 
be  read,  heresy  will  preach,   fasts  will  be  neglected,     | 
the  saints  will  be  blasphemed,  God  will  be  offended,     [ 
virtue   will    be   mocked    of,   vice    will   run    riot,    and 
England  will  be  peopled  with  beggars  and  thieves." 
The  Souls  in   Piu-gatoiy  then   call  the  author  of  the 
"  Beggars'  Supplication  "  "  a  goose,  an  ass,  a  mad  dog." 
Thus   did  superstition    degi-ade    More's    noble   genius. 
Notwithstanding  the  abuse  of  the  souls  in  purgatory, 
the  New  Testament  was  daily  read  more  and  more  iu 
England, 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


CHAPTER  U. 


AVoLSEY  did  uot  stop  with  Fisli's  book.  It  was  not 
that  "  miserable  pamphlet "  ouly  that  it  was  necessary 
to  hunt  down ;  the  New  Testament  in  English  had 
entered  the  kingdom  by  surprise  ;  there  was  the  dangei". 
The  Gospellers,  who  presumed  to  emancipate  man  from 
the  priests,  and  put  hun  in  absolute  dependence  on 
(iod,  did  ])recisely  the  reverse  of  what  Eome  demands. 
The  cardiiKil  hastened  to  assemble  the  bishops,  and 
these  (particularly  Warliam  and  Tonstall,  who  had 
long  enjoyed  the  jests  launched  against  superstition) 
took  the  matter  seriously,  when  they  were  shewn  that 
tlie  New  Testament  was  circulating  throughout 
England.  These  priests  believed  with  Wolsey,  that 
the  authority  of  the  pope  and  of  the  clergy  was  a 
dogma  to  which  all  others  were  subordinate.  They 
saw  in  the  reform  an  uprising  of  the  human  mind,  a 
desire  of  thiidvin'jr  fm-  tlii'mselve*,  of  judging  freely  the 
doctrines  and  insliliiiidiis  ivliidi  tin'  nations  had  hitherto 
received  humbly  IVi.ni  tin'  li;iiiil-.  nt  the  priests.  The 
new  doctors  ju>tilh'(l  tlicii-  attempt  at  enfranchisement 
by  substituting  a  new  authority  for  the  old.  It  was 
the  New  Testament  that  compromised  the  absolute 
power  of  Rome.  It  must  bo  seized  and  destroyed,  said 
the  bishops.  London,  Oxford,  and  above  all,  Cam- 
bridge, those  three  haunts  of  heresy,  must  be  carefully 
searched.  Definitive  orders  were  issued  on  Saturday, 
3rd  Fobruaiy,  1526,  and  tlie  work  began  immediately. 

The  first  visit  of  the  inquisitors  was  to  Honey  Lane, 
to  the  house  of  the  curate  of  All  Hallows.  They  did 
uot  find  Garret ;  they  sought  after  hiin  at  Monmouth's, 
and  tliroughout  the  city,  but  he  could  not  be  met  with. 
"  He  is  gone  to  Oxford  to  sell  his  detestable  wares," 
the  inquisitors  were  informed,  and  they  set  off  after 
him  immediately,  determined  to  burn  the  evangelist 
and  his  books ;  "  so  burning  hot,"  says  an  historian, 
"  was  the  chai-ity  of  these  holy  fathers." 

On  Tuesday,  the  6th  of  February,  Garret  was  quietly 
selling  his  books  at  Oxford,  and  carefully  noting  down 
his  sales  in  his  register,  when  two  of  his  friends  ran  to 
him  exclaiming,  "  Fly!  or  else  you  will  be  taken  before 
the  c;irdin;il,  and  thence  ...  to  the  Tower."  Tlio 
poor  curate  was  greatly  agitated.  "  From  whom  did 
you  learn  that?" — "From  Master  Cole,  the  clerk  of 
the  assembly,  who  is  deep  in  the  cardinal's  favour." 
Garret,  who  saw  at  once  that  the  affair  was  serious, 
hastened  to  Anthony  Dalaber,  who  held  the  stock  of 
the  Holy  Scriptures  at  Oxford ;  others  followed  him  ; 
the  news  had  spread  rapidly,  and  those  who  had  bouglit 
the  book  were  seized  with  alarm,  for  they  knew  by 
the  history  of  the  Lollards  what  the  Romish  clergy 
could  do.  They  took  counsel  together.  The  brethren, 
"for  so  did  we  not  only  call  one  another,  but  were 
indeed  one  to  another,"   says    Dalaber,   decided   that 


Garret  should  change  his  name ;  that  Dalaber  should 
give  him  a  letter  for  his  brother,  the  rector  of  Stal- 
bridge,  in  Dorsetshire,  who  was  in  want  of  a  curate ; 
and  that,  once  in  this  parish,  he  should  seek  the  lirst 
opportunity  of  crossing  the  sea.  The  rector  was,  in 
truth,  a  "  mad  papist,"  (it  is  Dalaber's  expression,)  but 
that  did  not  alter  their  resolution.  Tlioy  knew  of  no 
othei-  resource.  Anthony  wrote  to  him  hurriedly ;  and, 
on  the  morning  of  the  7th  of  February,  Garret  left 
Oxford  without  being  observed. 

Having  provided  for  Garret's  safety,  Dalaber  next 
thought  of  his  own.  He  carefully  concealed  in  a  secret 
recess  of  his  chamber,  at  St.  Alban's  Hall,  Tyndale's 
Testament,  and  the  works  of  Luther,  CEcolampadius, 
and  others,  on  the  Word  of  God.  Then,  disgusted 
with  the  scholastic  sophisms  which  he  heard  in  that 
college,  he  took  with  him  the  New  Testament  and  the 
Commentary  on  the  Gospel  of  St.  Luke,  by  Lambert 
of  Avignon,  the  second  edition  of  which  had  just  been 
published  at  Strasburg,  and  went  to  Gloucester  College, 
where  he  intended  to  study  the  civil  law,  not  caring  to 
have  anything  more  to  do  with  the  church. 

During  this  time  poor  Garret  was  making  his  way 
into  Dorsetshire.  His  conscience  could  uot  bear  the 
idea  of  being,  although  for  a  short  time  ouly,  the  curate 
of  a  bigoted  priest, — of  concealing  his  faith,  his  desires, 
and  even  his  name.  He  felt  more  wretched,  although 
at  liberty,  than  he  could  have  been  iu  Wolsey's  prisons. 
It  is  bettei-,  he  said  within  himself,  to  confess  Clmst 
before  the  judgment-seat,  than  to  seem  to  approve  of 
the  superstitious  practices  I  detest.  He  went  forward 
a  little,  then  stopped — and  then  resinned  his  course. 
There  was  a  fierce  struggle  between  his  fears  and  his 
conscience.  At  length,  after  a  day  and  a  half  spent  in 
doubt,  his  conscience  prevailed ;  unable  to  endure  any 
longer  the  anguish  that  he  felt,  he  retraced  his  steps, 
returned  to  Oxford,  which  he  entered  on  Friday 
evening,  and  lay  down  calmly  iu  his  bed.  It  was 
barely  past  midnight  when  Wolsey's  agents,  who  had 
received  information  of  his  return,  arrived,  and  dragged 
him  from  his  bed,  and  delivered  him  up  to  Dr.  Cottis- 
ford,  the  commissary  of  the  university.  The  latter 
locked  him  up  iu  one  of  his  rooms,  while  London  and 
Higdon,  dean  of  Frideswide,  "  two  arch  papists,"  (as 
the  chronicler  terms  them,)  announced  this  important 
capture  to  the  cardinal.  They  thought  Popery  was 
saved,  because  a  poor  curate  had  been  taken. 

Dalaber,  engaged  in  preparing  his  new  room  at 
Gloucester  College,  had  not  perceived  all  this  commo- 
tion. On  Satin-ilay,  at  noon,  having  finished  his 
arrnn-viii.Mit>.  lie  donMr-locked  his  door,  and  began  to 
read  llir  C.  prl  lu-rui-.ling  to  St.  Luke.  All  of  _a 
suilihn  he  lic.n>  a  Kiinck.  Dalaber  made  no  reply;  it 
is  no  doubt  the  connnissary's  officers.  A  louder  knock 
was  given;  but  he  still  remained  silent.  ImmcdiaKily 
after,  there  was  a  third  knock,  as  if  the  door  would  be 
beaten  in.  "Pei-haps  somebody  wants  me,"  thought 
Dalaber.  He  laid  his  book  aside,  opened  the  door,  and 
to  his  great  surprise,  saw  Garret,  who,  with  alarm  iu 
every  feature,  exclaimed,  "I  am  a  lost  man!  They 
have  caught  me!"  Dalaber,  who  thought  his  friejid 
was  with  his  brother  at  Stalbridge,  could  not  coueotil 
his  astonishment,  and,  at  the  same  time,  he  cast  au 
uneasy  glauee  on  a  stranger  who  accompanied  Garret. 


FLIGHT  OF  GARRET. 


G47 


of  the  college  .sei-viiiits  who  had  led  the 
tc  to  Dalaber's  new  room.      As  soon  as 


He  wa: 
fii.;;iliv( 

this  man  had  gone  away,  Garret  told  Anthony  every- 
thing :  "  Observing  that  Dr.  Cottisford  and  his  house- 
hold liad  gone  to  prayer.s,  I  put  back  the  bolt  of  the 
lock  with  my  finger  .  .  .  and  here  I  am."  .  .  . 
'•Alas!  Master  Garret,"  replied  Dalaber,  "the  impni- 
dciicc  you  committed  in  speaking  to  mc  before  that 
young  man  has  ruined  us  both!"  At  these  words 
Garret,  who  had  resumed  his  fear  of  the  priests,  now 
that  his  conscience  was  satisfied,  exclaimed  with  a 
voice  interrupted  by  sighs  and  tears :  "  For  mercy's 
sake,  lielp  me  !  Save  me ! "  AVithout  waiting  for  an 
answer,  he  threw  off  his  frock  and  liood,  begged 
Anthony  to  give  him  a  sleeved  coat,  and  thus  disguised, 
he  said  :  "I  will  escape  into  Wales,  and  from  there,  if 
possible,  to  Germany  and  Luther." 

Garret  checked  himself ;  there  was  something  to  be 
done  before  he  left.  The  two  friends  fell  on  their 
knees  and  prayed  together;  they  called  upon  God  to 
Icail  His  servant  to  a  secure  retreat.  That  done,  they 
embraced  each  other,  their  faces  bathed  with  tears, 
and  unable  to  utter  a  word. 

Silent  on  the  threshold  of  his  door,  Dalaber  follo-\ved 
both  with  eyes  and  ears  his  friend's  retreating  footsteps. 
Having  heard  him  vc-nrh  the  bottom  of  the  stairs,  he 
returned  to  his  romn.  l.irk.Ml  ihc  door,  took  out  his  New 
Testament,  and  plnriii'j  it  liri'dre  him,  read  on  his  knees 
the  tenth  chapter  of  tlic  Gu.-pel  of  St.  Matthew,  breath- 
ing many  a  heavy  sigh :  .  .  .  Ye  shall  he  hrowjht 
before  governors  and  kings  forniy  sake;  ,  .  ,  but  fear 
them  not ;  the  veri/  hairs  of  i/our  head  are  all  numbered. 
This  reading  having  revived  his  courage,  Anthony,  still 
on  his  knees,  prayed  fervently  for  the  fugitive  and  for 
all  his  brethren  :  "  O  God,  by  thy  Holy  Spirit  endue 
with  heavenly  strength  this  tender  and  new-born  little 
flock  in  Oxford.  Christ's  heavy  cross  is  about  to  be 
laid  on  the  weak  shoulders  of  thy  poor  sheep.  Grant 
that  they  may  bear  it  with  godly  patience  and  un- 
tiinching  zeal ! " 

Rising  from  his  knees,  Dalaber  put  away  his  book, 
folded  up  (!:irrilt"s  luxid  and  frock,  placed  them  among 
his  own  rl(i|lh<.  li>ik,J  his  room  door,  and  proceeded 
to  the  Cai.liiDir-  Ct.llege,  (now  Christ's  Church,)  to 
tell  Clark  and  the  other  brethren  what  had  happened. 
They  were  in  chapel:  the  evening  service  had 
begun;  the  dean  and  canons,  in  full  costume,  were 
chanting  in  the  choir.  Dalaber  stopped  at  the  door, 
listening  to  the  majestic  sounds  of  the  organ,  at  which 
Tavcrucr  presided,  and  to  the  harmonious  strains  of  the 
choristers.  lliey  were  singing  the  Marjnificat :  My 
sold  doth  mwjnifi/  the  Lord.  .  .  ,  He  hath  holpeii  His 
servant  Israel.  It  seemed  to  Dalaber  that  they  were 
singing  Garret's  deliverance.  But  his  voice  could  not 
join  in  their  song  of  praise.  "  Alas  ! "  he  exclaimed ; 
"  all  my  singing  and  music  is  turned  into  sighing  and 
musing." 

As  he  listened,  leaning  again.st  the  entrance  into  the 
choir.  Dr.  Cottisford,  the  university  commissaiy,  arrived 
^\ith  hasty  step,  "'  bare  headed  and  as  pale  as  ashes." 
He  passed  Anthony  without  noticing  him;  and  going 
straight  to  the  dean,  appeared  to  announce  some  im- 
portant and  unpleasant  news.  "  I  know  well  the  cause 
of  his  sorrow,"  thought  Dalaber,  ai  he  watched  eveiy 


gesture.  The  commissary  had  scarcely  finished  his 
rejiort  when  the  dean  arose,  and  both  left  the  choir 
with  imdisguiscd  confusion.  They  had  only  reached 
the  middle  of  the  anti-chapel  when  Dr.  London  ran  in, 
pufilng,  and  chafing,  and  stamping,  "  like  a  hungry  and 
greedy  lion  seeking  liis  prey."  All  three  stopped, 
(inestioucd  each  other,  and  deplored  their  misfortune. 
Their  rapid  and  eager  movements  indicated  the  liveliest 
emotion  ;  London,  above  all,  could  not  restrain  himself. 
He  attacked  the  commissary,  and  blamed  him  for  his 
negligence,  so  that  at  last  Cottisford  burst  into  tears. 
"  Deeds,  not  tears,"  said  the  fanatical  London ;  and 
forthwith  they  despatched  ollicers  and  spies  along  every 
road. 

Anthony,  having  left  the  chapel,  hurried  to  Clark's 
to  tell  him  of  the  escape  of  liis  friend.  "  We  are  walk- 
ing in  the  midst  of  wolves  and  tigers,"  replied  Clark ; 
"  prepare  for  persecution.  Frudeiitia  serpentina  et  sim- 
plicitas  columbina  (the  wisdom  of  serpents  and  the 
hannlessncss  of  doves)  must  be  our  motto.  O  God, 
give  us  the  courage  these  evil  times  require."  All  in 
the  little  flock  were  delighted  at  Garret's  deliverance. 
Sumner  and  Bettj<,  who  had  come  in,  ran  off  to  tell  it 
to  the  other  brethren  in  the  college,  and  Dalaber  has- 
tened to  Corpus  Christi.  All  these  pious  young  men 
felt  themselves  to  be  soldiers  in  the  same  army,  travel- 
lers in  the  same  company,  brothers  in  the  same  family. 
Fraternal  love  nowhere  shone  so  brightly,  in  the  days 
of  the  Reformation,  as  among  the  Christians  of  Great 
Britain.     This  is  a  feature  worthy  of  notice. 

Fitzjames,  Udal,  and  Diet,  were  met  together  in  the 
rooms  of  the  latter,  at  Corpus  Christi  College,  when 
Dalaber  arrived.  They  ate  their  frugal  meal  with 
downcast  eyes  and  broken  voices,  conversing  of  Oxford, 
of  England,  and  of  the  perils  hanging  over  them. 
Then  rising  from  table,  they  fell  on  their  knees,  called 
upon  God  for  aid,  and  separated;  Fitzjames  taking 
Dalaber  with  him  to  St.  Alban's  Hall.  They  were 
afraid  that  the  servant  of  Gloucester  College  had  be- 
trayed him. 

The  disciples  of  the  Gospel  at  Oxford  passed  the 
night  in  great  anxiety.     GaiTct's  flight,  the  rage  of  the 
priests,  the  dangers  of  the  rising  church,  the  roaring  of 
a  storm  that  filled  the  air  and  re-echoed  through  the 
long  cloisters — all  impressed   them   with   terror.     On 
Sunday,    the    11th    of   February,    Dalaber,   who   was 
stirring  at  five  in  the  morning,  set  out  for  his  room  in     j 
Gloucester  College.    Finding  the  gates  shut,  he  walked     ! 
up  and  down  beneath  the  walls  in  the  mud,  for  it  had     | 
rained  all  night.     As  he  paced  to  and  fro  along  the     j 
solitary  street  in  the  obscure  dawn,  a  thousand  thoughts     I 
alarnied  his  mind.     It  was  known,  he  said  to  himself,     : 
that  he  had  tsiken  part  in  Garret's  flight;  he  would  be     | 
arrested,  and  his  friend's  escape  would  be  revenged  on     I 
him.     He  was  weighed  down  by  sorrow   and    alann ;     ; 
he  sighed  heavily ;  he  imagined  he  saw  AVolsey's  com-     j 
missioners   demanding  the   names  of  his  accomplices,     ] 
and  pretending  to  draw  up  a  proscription  list  at  his     i 
dictation  ;  he  recollected  that  on  more  than  one  occasion 
cruel  priests  had  extorted  from  the  Lollards  the  names     I 
of  their  brethren,  and,  terrified  at  the   possibility  of     j 
such  a  crime,  he  exclaimed  :  "  O  God,  I  swear  to  thee     ; 
that  I  will  accuse  no  man,     ...     I  will  tell  nothing 
but  what  is  perfectly  well  known."  j 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


At  last,  after  an  hour  of  anguish,  lie  was   able  to 

enter  the  college.     He  hastened  in,  but  when  he  tried 

to  open  his   door,  he  found  that  the   lock  had  been 

picked.     The  door  gave  way  to  a  strong  push,  and  what 

a  sight  met  his   eyes !    his    bedstead    overturned,   the 

blankets  scattered  on  the  floor,  his  clothes  all  confusion 

in  his  wardrobe,  his  study  broken  into  and  left  open. 

He  doubted  not  that  Garret's  dress  had  betrayed  him ; 

,     and  he  was  gazing  at  this  sad  spectacle  in  alarm,  when 

a  monk  who  occupied  the  adjoining  rooms  came  and 

I     told  him  what  had  taken  place  :  "  The  commissary  and 

j     two  proctors,  armed  with  swords  and  bills,  broke  open 

I     your  door  in  the  middle  of  the  night.     They  pierced 

I     your  bed-straw  through    and   through   to   make   sure 

j     Garret  was  not  hidden  there ;  they  carefully  searched 

eveiy  nook  and  corner,  but  were  not  able  to  discover 

any  traces  of  the  fugitive."     At  these  words  Dalaber 

breathed  again,     .     .     .     but  the  monk  had  not  ended. 

"  I  have  orders,"  he  added,  "  to  send  you  to  the  prior." 

I     Anthony    Dunstan,    the    prior,    was    a   fanatical    and 

avaricious  monk ;  and  the   confusion   into  which  this 

I     message  threw  Dalaber  was  so  great,  that  he  went  just 

as  he  was,  all  besjiattered  with  mnd,  to  the  rooms  of 

his  superior. 

The  prior,  who  was  standing  with  his  face  towards 
the  door,  looked  at  Dalaber  from  head  to  foot  as  he 
came  in.  "  Where  did  you  pass  the  night?"  he  asked. — 
"  At  St.  Albau's  Hall  with  Fitzjames."  The  prior  with 
a  gesture  of  incredulity  continued :  "  Was  not  Master 
Garret  with  you  yesterday  ?  " — "  Yes."  "  Where  is  he 
now  ?  " — "I  do  not  know."  During  this  examination,  the 
prior  had  remarked  a  large  double  gilt  silver  ring  on 
Anthony's  finger,  with  the  initials  A.  D.  "  Show  me 
that,"  said  the  prior.  Dalaber  gave  him  the  ring,  and 
the  prior  believing  it  to  be  of  solid  gold,  put  it  on  his 
own  finger,  adding  with  a  cunning  leer :  "  This  ring  is 
mine  :  it  bears  my  name.  A  is  for  Antfion;/,  and  D  for 
Dimstan."  "  Would  to  God,"  thought  Dalaber,  "  that  I 
were  as  well  delivered  from  his  companj',  as  I  am  sure 
of  being  delivered  of  my  ring." 

At  this  moment  the  chief  beadle,  with  two  or  three 
of  the  commissary's  men,  entered  and  conducted  Dalaber 
to  the  chapel  of  Lincoln  college,  where  three  ill-omened 
figures  were  standing  beside  the  altar :  they  were  Cottis- 
ford,  London,  and  Higdon.  "  Where  is  Garret  ?  "  asked 
London ;  and  pointing  to  his  disordered  dress,  he  con- 
tinued:  "Y'our  shoes  and  garments  covered  with  mud 
prove  that  you  have  been  out  all  night  with  him.  If 
you  do  not  say  where  you  have  taken  him,  you  will  be 
sent  to  tlie  Tower." — "  Yes,"  added  Higdon,  "  to  Little- 
ease,  [one  of  the  most  horrible  dungeons  in  the  prison,] 
and  you  will  be  put  to  the  torture — do  you  hear?" 
Then  the  three  doctors  spent  two  hours  attempting  to 
I  shake  the  young  man  by  flattering  promises  and  fright- 
ful threats  ;  but  all  was  useless.  The  commissary  then 
gave  a  sign,  the  officers  stepped  forward,  and  the 
j  judges  ascended  a  narrow  staircase  leading  to  a  large 
roor.i  situated  above  the  commissary's  chamber.  Here 
Dalaber  was  deprived  of  his  purse  and  girdle,  and  his 
legs  were  placed  in  the  stocks,  so  that  his  feet  were  al- 
1     most  as  high  as  his  head.     When  that  was  done,  the 

three  doctors  devoutly  went  to  mass. 
I         Poor  Anthony,  left  alone  in  this  frightful  position, 
recollected  the  warning  Clark  had  given  him  two  years 


before.  He  groaned  heavily,  and  cried  to  God :  "  O 
Father !  that  my  suffering  may  be  for  thy  glory,  and 
for  the  consolation  of  my  brethren !  Happen  what 
may,  I  will  never  accuse  one  of  them."  After  this 
noble  protest,  Anthony  felt  an  increase  of  peace  in  his 
heart ;  but  a  new  sorrow  was  reserved  for  him. 

Garret,  who  had  directed  his  course  westwards,  with 
the  intention  of  going  to  Wales,  had  been  caught  at 
Hinksey,  a  short  distance  from  Oxford.  He  was 
brought  back,  and  thrown  into  the  dungeon  in  which 
Dalaber  had  been  placed  after  the  torture.  Their 
gloomy  presentiments  were  to  be  more  than  fulfilled. 

In  fact,  Wolsey  was  deeply  irritated  at  seeing  the 
college  [Christ  Church]  which  he  had  intended  should 
be  "  the  most  glorious  in  the  world,"  made  the  haunt 
of  heresy;  and  the  young  men,  whom  he  had  so  care- 
fully chosen,  become  distributers  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment. By  favouring  literatm-e,  he  had  had  in  view 
the  triumph  of  the  clergy;  and  literatm-e  had,  on  the 
contrary,  served  to  the  triumph  of  the  Gospel.  He 
issued  his  orders  without  delay,  and  the  university  was 
filled  with  terror.  John  Clark,  John  Fryth,  Heniy 
Sumner,  William  Betts,  Kichard  Taveruer,  Richard 
Cox,  Michael  Drumm,  Godfrey  Harman,  Thomas  Law- 
ney,  Radley,  and  others  besides  of  Cardinal's  College ; 
Udal,  Diet,  and  others  of  Corpus  Christi ;  Eden,  and 
several  of  his  friends  of  Magdalene ;  Goodman,  William 
Bayley,  Robert  Ferrar,  John  Salisbury  of  Gloucester, 
Barnard,  and  St.  Mary's  colleges,  were  seized  and 
thrown  into  prison.  Wolsey  had  promised  them  glory; 
he  gave  them  a  dungeon,  hoping  in  this  manner  to  save 
the  power  of  the  priests,  and  to  repress  that  awakening 
of  truth  and  liberty  which  was  spreading  from  the 
Continent  to  England. 

Under  Cardinal's  College  there  was  a  deep  cellar 
sunk  in  the  earth,  in  which  the  butler  kept  his  salt 
fish.  Into  this  hole  these  young  men,  the  choice  of 
England,  were  thrust.  The  dampness  of  this  cave, 
the  corrupted  air  they  breathed,  the  horrible  smell 
given  out  by  the  fish,  seriously  affected  the  prisoners, 
already  weakened  by  study.  Their  hearts  were  burst- 
ing with  groans,  their  faith  was  shaken,  and  the  most 
mournful  scenes  followed  each  other  in  this  foid  dun- 
geon. The  wretched  captives  gazed  on  one  another, 
wept,  and  prayed.  This  trial  was  destined  to  be  a 
salutary  one  to  them :  "  Alas  ! "  said  Fiyth  on  a  sub- 
sequent occasion  ;  "  I  see  that  besides  the  Word  of  God, 
there  is  indeed  a  second  purgatory,  .  .  .  but  it  is 
not  that  invented  by  Rome ;  it  is  the  cross  of  tribula- 
tion to  which  God  has  nailed  us." 

At  last  the  prisoners  were  taken  out  one  by  one  and 
brought  before  their  judges ;  two  only  were  released. 
The  first  was  Betts,  afterwards  chaplain  to  Anne 
Boleyn  :  they  had  not  been  able  to  find  any  prohibited 
books  in  his  room,  and  he  pleaded  his  cause  with  great 
talent.  The  other  was  Taverner ;  he  had  hidden 
Clark's  books  under  his  school-room  floor,  where  they 
had  been  discovered ;  but  his  love  for  the  arts  saved 
him:  "Pshaw!  he  is  only  a  musician,"  said  the  car- 
dinal. 

All  the  rest  were  condemned.  A  great  fire  was 
kindled  at  the  top  of  the  market-place ;  a  long  pro- 
cession was  marshalled,  and  these  unfortunate  men 
were  led  out,  each  bearing  a  fagot.     When  they  came 


SEARCH  FOR  THE  HERETICAL  BOOKS. 


near  the  fire,  they  were  compelled  to  throw  iato  it  the 
lierctical  books  that  had  been  found  in  their  rooms. 
After  which  they  were  taken  back  to  their  noisome 
prison.  Th.  r.-  m-.hu.I  l.i  lu-  :i  luirbai-ous  pleasure  in 
trcatinj^  llic~c  ymiii.j  aii.l  Lirii.inii,  m.'n  so  vilely.  In 
j  other  eoiintii.->  nl-o.  l;,,ii,c  h:i,  |.r,|iariiig  to  stiHc  in 
the  flames  (lio  imlilc.-l  ^■iiiuscs  of  France,  Spain,  and 
Italy.  Such  was  tlio  reception  letters  and  the  Gospel 
met  with  from  Popery  in  the  sixteenth  century.  Every 
plant  of  God's  must  be  beaten  by  the  wind,  even  at 
the  risk  of  its  being  uprooted ;  if  it  receives  only  the 
gentle  rays  of  the  sun,  there  is  reason  to  fear  that  it 
will  dry  up  and  witiier  before  it  produces  fruit.  Except 
a  corn  of  wheat  full  into  the  ground  and  die,  it  abideth 
alone.  There  was  to  arise  one  day  a  real  Church  in 
England,  for  the  persecution  had  begun. 
We  have  to  contemplate  still  further  trials. 


CHAPTER  ni. 

Poi-sccution  at  Cambridge — Barnes  Arrested— -V  grand  Search— Barnes  at 
Wo  scj'a  Palace— Interrogated  by  the  Cardinal— Conversation  between 
Wolsey  and  Barnes— Barnes  threatened  with  the  Stake— His  Fall  and 
lublic  Penance  — Richard  Bayfield  — His  Faith  and  Imprisonment  — 
Visits  Cambridge— Joins  Tyndalc— Tlie  Confessors  in  the  Cellar  at  Ox- 
ford- Four  of  them  Die— Tlie  rest  Liberated. 

Cambridge,  which  had  produced  Latimer,  Bilney, 
Stafford,  and  Barnes,  had  at  first  appeared  to  occupy 
the  front  rank  in  the  English  Reformation.  Oxford, 
by  receiving  the  crown  of  persecution,  seemed  now  to 
have  outstripped  the  sister  university.  And  yet  Cam- 
bridge was  to  have  its  sliare  of  suffering.  The  investi- 
gation had  begun  at  Oxford  on  Monday,  the  5th  of 
February,  and  on  the  very  same  day  two  of  AVolsey's 
creatures,  Dr.  Capon,  one  of  his  chaplains,  and  Gibson, 
a  sergeant-at-arms  notorious  for  his  arrogance,  left 
London  for  Cambridge.  Submission  was  the  pass- 
word of  Popeiy.  "  Yes,  submission,"  was  responded 
from  eveiy  part  of  Christendom  by  men  of  sincere 
piety  and  profound  understanding ;  "  submission  to  the 
legitimate  authority  against  which  Roman  Catholicism 
has  rebelled."  According  to  their  views,  the  tradition- 
alism and  Pelagianism  of  the  Romish  Church  had  set 
up  the  supremacy  of  fallen  reason  in  opposition  to  the 
Divine  supremacy  of  tlie  Word  and  of  grace.  The 
external  and  apparent  sacrifice  of  self  which  Roman 
Catholicism  imposes, — obedience  to  a  confessor  or  to 
the  pope,  arbitrary  penance,  ascetic  practices,  and 
celibacy, — only  served  to  create,  and  so  to  strengthen 
and  perpetuate,  a  delusion  as  to  the  egotistic  preserva- 
tion of  a  sinful  personality.  When  the  Reformation 
proclaimed  liberty,  so  far  as  regarded  ordinances  of 
human  invention,  it  was  with  the  view  of  bringing 
man's  heart  and  life  into  subjection  to  their  real 
Sovereign.  The  reign  of  God  was  commencing ;  that 
of  the  priests  must  needs  come  to  an  end.  No  man 
can  serve  two  masters.  Such  were  the  important 
truths  which  gradually  dawned  upon  the  world,  and 
which  it  became  necessary  to  extinguish  without  delay. 
On  the  day  after  theii-  arrival   in  Cambridge,  on 


Tuesday,  the  6th  of  February,  Capon  and  Gibson  v/ent 
to  the  convocation  house,  wliere  several  of  the  doctors 
were  talking  together.  Tiicir  aiipearancc  caused  some 
anxiety  among  the  spectators,  wlio  Incil^.d  upon  the 
strangci-s  with  distrust.  On  :i  -imM. n  ( lili-on  moved 
forward,  put  his  hand  on  l!aiiir-.  ami  arnsicd  him  in 
the  presence  of  his  friends.  Thr  latter  \m  ii'  f lightened, 
and  this  was  what  tin;  sergeant  wanted.  "Wiiat!" 
said  they;  "  the  prior  of  the  Augustines,  the  restorer  of 
letters  in  Cambridge,  arrested  by  a  sergeant!"  This 
was  not  all.  Wolsey's  agents  were  to  seize  the  books 
come  from  Germany,  and  their  owners ;  Bilney, 
Latimer,  Stafford,  Arthur,  and  tlieir  friends,  were  all 
to  be  imprisoned,  for  they  possessed  tlie  New  Testa- 
ment. Thirty  members  of  the  university  were  pointed 
out  as  suspected ;  and  some  miserable  wretches,  who 
had  been  bribed  by  the  inquisitors,  offered  to  shew  the 
|)lace  in  eveiy  room  where  the  prohibited  books  were 
hidden.  But  while  the  necessary  preparations  were 
making  for  this  search,  Bilney,  Latimer,  and  their  col- 
leagues, being  warned  in  time,  got  the  books  removed ; 
they  were  taken  away  not  only  by  the  doors,  but  by 
the  windows,  even  by  the  roofs ;  and  anxious  inquiiy 
was  made  for  sure  places  in  which  they  could  bo 
concealed. 

This  work  was  hardly  ended  when  the  vice-chan- 
cellor of  the  university,  the  sergeant-at-arras,  Wolsey's 
chaplain,  the  proctors,  and  the  informers,  began  their 
rounds.  They  opened  the  first  room,  entered,  searched, 
and  found  nothing.  They  passed  on  to  the  second, 
there  was  nothing.  The  sergeant  was  astonished,  and 
grew  angry.  On  reaching  the  third  room,  he  ran 
directly  to  the  place  that  had  been  pointed  out, — still 
there  was  nothing.  The  same  thing  occurred  every- 
where ;  never  was  inquisitor  more  mortified.  He  dared 
not  lay  hands  on  the  persons  of  the  evangelical  doctors ; 
his  orders  bore  that  he  was  to  seize  the  books  and 
their  owners.  But  as  no  books  were  found,  there  could 
be  no  prisoners.  Luckily  there  Wiis  one  man  (the  prior 
of  the  Augustines)  against  whom  there  were  particular 
charges.  The  sergeant  promised  to  compensate  himself 
at  Barnes's  expense  for  his  useless  labours. 

The  next  day  Gibson  and  Capon  set  out  for  London 
with  Barnes.  During  this  mournful  journey,  the  prior, 
in  great  agitation,  at  one  time  determined  to  brave  all 
England,  and  at  another  trembled  like  a  leaf.  At  last 
their  journey  was  ended ;  the  chaplain  left  his  prisoner 
at  Parnell's  house,  close  by  the  stocks.  Three  students 
(Coverdale,  Goodwin,  and  Field)  had  followed  their 
master  to  cheer  him  with  their  tender  affection. 

On  Thursday  (8th  Februaiy)  the  sergeant  conducted 
Barnes  to  the  cardinal's  palace  at  Westminster;  the 
wretched  prior,  whose  enthusiasm  had  given  way  to 
dejection,  waited  all  day  before  he  could  be  admitted. 
What  a  day !  Will  no  one  come  to  his  assistance  ? 
Dr.  Gardiner,  Wolsey's  secretary,  and  Fox,  his  steward, 
both  old  friends  of  Barnes,  passed  thi'ongh  the  gallery 
in  the  evening,  and  went  up  to  the  prisoner,  who 
begged  them  to  procure  him  an  audience  with  tho 
cardinal.  AVhen  night  had  come,  these  officers  intro- 
duced the  prior  into  the  room  where  their  master  was 
sitting,  and  Barnes,  as  was  customaiy,  fell  on  his  knees 
before  him.  "  Is  this  the  Dr.  Barnes  who  is  accused 
of  heresy?"  asked  Wolsey,  in  a  haughty  tone,  of  Fox 


HISTORY  OF  THE  EEFORMATION. 


aud  Gardiner.  They  replied  in  tlie  affirmative.  The 
cardinal  then  turning  to  Barnes,  who  was  still  kneeling, 
said  to  hira  ironically,  and  not  without  reason:  "What, 
ma.ster  doctor,  had  you  not  sufficient  scope  in  the 
Scriptures  to  teach  the  people,  but  ray  golden  shoes, 
my  poleaxes,  my  pillars,  my  golden  cushions,  my 
crosses,  did  so  sore  offend  you,  that  you  must  make  us 
a  laughing-stock,  ridiculum  cajnit,  amongst  the  people  1 
We  were  jollily  that  day  laughed  to  scorn.  Verily  it 
was  a  sermon  more  fit  to  be  preached  on  a  stage  than 
in  a  pulpit;  for  at  the  last  you  said  I  wore  a  paii"  of  red 
gloves — I  should  say  blood;/  gloves  (quoth  you)  .  .  . 
Eh!  what  think  you,  master  doctor?"  Barnes,  wish- 
ing to  elude  these  embarrassing  questions,  answered 
vaguely:  "I  spoke  nothing  but  the  truth  out  of  the 
Scriptures,  according  to  my  conscience  and  according 
to  the  old  doctors."  He  then  presented  to  the  cardinal 
a  statement  of  his  teaching. 

Wolsey  received  the  papers  with  a  smile :  "  Oh,  ho  !" 
said  he,  as  lie  counted  the  six  sheets,  "  I  perceive  you 
intend  to  stand  to  your  articles  aud  to  shew  your 
learning." — "With  the  grace  of  God,"  said  Barnes. 
Wolsey  then  began  to  read  them,  and  stopped  at  the 
sixth  article,  which  ran  thus :  "  I  will  never  believe 
that  one  man  may,  by  the  law  of  God,  be  bishop  of  two 
or  three  cities,  yea,  of  a  whole  country,  for  it  is  contrai-y 
to  St.  Paul,  who  saith  :  I  have  left  thee  behind,  to  set  in 
even/  citi/  a  bishop."  Barnes  did  not  quote  correctly, 
for  the  apostle  says :  "  to  ordain  eiders  in  even/  cit;/." 
Wolsey  was  displeased  at  this  thesis  :  "Ah!  this  touches 
me,"  he  said :  "  do  you  think  it  wrong  (seeing  the 
ordinance  of  the  church)  that  one  bishop  should  have 
so  many  cities  underneath  him  1 " — "  I  know  of  no  or- 
dinance of  the  church,"  Barnes  replied,  "  as  concerning 
tliis  thing,  but  Paul's  saying  only." 

Although  this  controversy  interested  the  cardinal, 
the  personal  attack  of  which  he  had  to  complain 
touched  him  more  keenly.  "  Good,"  said  Wolsey;  and 
then  with  a  condescension  hardly  to  be  expected  from 
so  proud  a  man,  he  deigned  almost  to  justify  himself. 
"  You  charge  me  with  displaying  a  royal  pomp ;  but 
do  you  not  understand  that,  being  called  to  represent 
his  majesty,  I  must  strive  by  these  means  to  strike 
terror  into  the  wicked  ? " — "  It  is  not  your  pomp  or 
your  poleaxes,"  Barnes  courageously  answered,  "  tliat 
will  save  the  king's  person.  .  .  .  God  will  save 
him,  who  said :  Per  me  rerjes  regnant."  Barnes,  instead 
of  profiting  by  tlie  cai'dinal's  kindness  to  present  an 
humble  justification,  as  Dean  Colet  had  formerly  done 
to  Henry  VIII.,  dared  preach  him  a  second  sermon  to 
his  face.  Wolsey  felt  the  colour  mount  to  his  cheeks. 
"AVell,  gentlemen,"  said  he,  turning  to  Fox  and 
Gardiner,  "you  hear  him!  Is  this  the  wise  aud  learned 
man  of  whom  you  spoke  to  me?" 

At  these  words  both  steward  and  secretary  fell  on 
their  knees,  saying :  "  My  lord,  pardon  him  for  mercy's 
sake."  "  Can  you  find  ten,  or  even  six  doctors  of 
divinity  willing  to  swear  that  you  are  free  from 
heresy?"  asked  Wolsey.  Barnes  offered  twenty  honest 
men,  quite  as  Icurn.-l  n.  l.ruisolf,  or  even  more  so.  "I 
must  have  (!,»■, .,,  -  in  .ll\  Inlt)-,  men  as  old  as  yourself." 
— "  That  is  ini  1 ,1  i  ■  I UU.  ,->  I  it  I  tlic  prior.  "  In  that  case  you 
must  be  burnt,  '  continued  the  cardinal.  "Let  him  be 
taken  to  the  Tower."     Gardiner  and  Fox  offering  to 


become  his  sureties,  Wolsey  permitted  him  to  pass  the 
night  at  Parnell's. 

"  It  is  no  time  to  think  of  sleeping,"  said  Barnes  as 
he  entered  the  house;  "we  must  write."  Those  harsh 
and  terrible  words,  yon  must  be  burnt,  resounded  con- 
tinually in  his  ears.  He  dictated  all  night  to  his  three 
young  friends  a  defence  of  his  articles. 

The  next  day  he  was  taken  before  the  chapter,  at 
which  Clarke,  bishop  of  Bath,  Standish,  and  other 
doctors,  were  present.  His  judges  laid  before  him  a 
long  statement,  and  said  to  him :  "  Promise  to  read 
this  paper  in  public,  without  omitting  or  adding  a 
single  word."  It  was  then  read  to  him.  "  I  would 
die  first,"  was  his  reply.  "  Will  you  abjure  or  be  burnt 
alive?"  said  his  judges;  "take  yoin-  choice."  The 
alternative  was  dreadful.  Poor  Barnes,  a  prey  to  the 
deepest  agony,  shrank  at  the  thought  of  the  stake ; 
then,  suddenly  his  courage  revived,  and  he  exclaimed  : 
"  I  would  rather  be  burnt  than  abjure."  Gardiner  and 
Fox  did  all  they  could  to  persuade  him.  "  Listen  to 
reason,"  said  they  craftily :  "  your  articles  are  true  ; 
that  is  not  the  question.  We  want  to  know  whether 
by  your  death  you  will  let  error  triumph,  or  whether 
you  would  rather  remain  to  defend  the  truth  when 
better  days  may  come." 

Tliey  entreated  him ;  they  put  forward  the  most 
plausible  motives ;  from  time  to  time  they  uttered  the 
terrible  words, — burnt  alive  !  His  blood  froze  in  his 
veins ;  he  kuew  not  what  he  said  or  did ;  .  .  ,  they 
l^laced  a  paper  before  him — they  put  a  pen  in  his  hand 
— his  head  was  bewildered,  he  signed  his  name  with  a 
deep  sigh.  This  unhappy  man  was  destined  at  a  later 
period  to  be  a  faithful  martyr  of  Jesus  Christ ;  but  he 
had  not  yet  leaint  to  resist  even  unto  Mood.  Barnes 
had  fallen. 

On  the  following  morning  (vSunday,  11th  Februaiy) 
a  solemn  spectacle  was  preparing  at  St.  Paul's.    Before 
daybreak   all  were  astir   iu   the    prison  of    the    poor 
prior;   and  at  eight  o'clock,  the  knight-marshal  with 
his  tipstaves,  and  the  warden  of  the  Fleet  prison  with 
his  billmen,  conducted  Barnes  to  St.  Paul's,  along  with 
four  of  the  Hanse  merchants  who  had  first  brouglit  to     j 
Loudon  the  New  Testament  of  Jesus  Christ  in  English.     | 
The  fifth  of  these  pious  merchants  held  an  immeusc     j 
taper  iu  his  hands.     A  persevering  search  had  dis- 
covered that  it  was  these  men  to  whom  England  was     I 
indebted  for  the  so  much  dreaded  book ;   their  ware-     j 
houses  were  surrounded,   and  their  persons   arrested.     [ 
On  the  top  of  St.  Paul's  steps  was  a  platform,  and  on    1 
the  platform  a  throne,  and  on  the  throne  the  cardinal,     ' 
dressed  in  scarlet — like  a  "  bloody  antichrist,"  says  the 
chronicler.      On  his  head  glittered  the  hat  of  which 
Barnes  had  spoken  so  ill ;  around  him  were  thirty-six 
lpislio|is,  ablinis:,  priors,  aud  all  his  doctors,  dressed  iu 
diiiii:i>lc  ;iini  satin;  the  vast  cathedral  was  full.     The 
Bishop  of  KiH-Uester  having  gone  into  a  pulpit  placed 
at  tlie  top  of  the  steps,  Barnes  and  the  merchants,  each     ; 
bearing  a  faggot,  were  compelled  to  kneel  and  listen  to    j 
a  sermon  intended  to  cure  these  poor  creatures  of  that    i 
taste  for  insurrection  against  Popery  which  was  begin-    [ 
uiug  to  spread  in  every  quarter.     The  sermon  ended, 
the  cardinal  mounted  his  mule,  took  his  station  luider 
a  magnificent  canopy,  and  rode  off.     After  this,  Barnes 
aud  his  five  companions  wtilked  three  times  round  a 


THE  CONFESSORS  IN  THE  CELLAR  AT  OXFORD. 


C51 


iiro,  lighted  before  the  cross  tit  the  north  gate  of  the 
cathedral.  Tlie  dejected  prior,  with  downcast  head, 
dragged  himself  along,  rather  than  walked.  After  the 
third  turn,  the  prisoners  threw  their  faggots  into  the 
flames  ;  some  "  heretical  "  books  also  were  flung  in  ; 
and  the  Bishop  of  Koehcsfer  having  given  absolution 
to  the  six  peuitoiits,  they  v.,  it  1, d  1i:u-k  li>  pi-i-un,  to  be 
kept  there  during  the  lonl  r.n MiiLiI'^  |iliM~ur.'.  Barnes 
could  not  weep  now;  the  UhmiuIiI  I'l'  lii>  n  lap.-i',  and  of 
the  effects  so  guilty  an  ixaniiilo  might  pruduee,  had 
deprived  him  of  all  moral  energy.  In  the  month  of 
August,  he  was  led  out  of  prison  and  confined  in  the 
Augustine  convent. 

Barnes  was  not  the  only  niau  at  Cambridge  upon 
whom  the  blow  had  fallen.  Since  the  year  1520,  a 
monk  named  Kiehard  Bayfield,  had  been  an  inmate 
of  the  abbey  of  Bury  St.  Edmunds.  His  affability 
delighted  every  traveller.  One  day,  when  engaged  as 
chamberlain  in  receiving  Barnes,  who  had  come  to 
visit  Dr.  Ruffam,  his  fellow-student  at  Louvain,  two 
men  entered  the  convent.  They  were  pious  per- 
sons, and  of  great  consideration  in  London,  where  they 
carried  on  the  occupation  of  brick-making,  and  had 
risen  to  be  wardens  of  their  guild.  Their  names  were 
Maxwell  and  Stacy,  men  "  well  gi'af ted  in  the  doctrine 
of  Christ,"  says  the  historian,  who  had  led  many  to 
the  Saviour  by  their  conversation  and  exemplary  life. 
Being  accustomed  to  travel  once  a-year  through  the 
counties,  to  visit  their  brethren  and  extend  a  know- 
ledge of  the  Gospel,  they  vised  to  lodge,  according  to 
the  usages  of  the  time,  in  the  convents  and  abbeys. 
A  conversation  soon  arose  between  Barnes,  Stacy,  and 
Maxwell,  which  struck  the  lay-brother.  Barnes,  who 
Lad  observed  his  attention,  gave  him,  as  he  was  leaving 
the  convent,  a  New  Testament  in  Latin ;  and  the  two 
brick-makers  added  a  New  Testament  in  English,  with 
"The  "Wicked  Mammon"  and  "The  Obedience  of  a 
Christian  Man."  The  lay-brother  ran  and  hid  the  books 
in  his  cell,  and  for  two  years  read  them  constantly.  At 
last  he  was  discovered,  and  reprimanded  ;  but  he  boldly 
confessed  his  faith.  Upon  this  the  monks  threw  him 
into  prison,  set  him  iu  the  stocks,  put  a  gag  in  his 
mouth,  and  cruelly  whipped  him,  to  prevent  his  speak- 
ing of  grace.  The  unhappy  Bayfield  remained  nine 
months  in  this  condition. 

When  Barnes  repeated  his  visit  to  Buiy  at  a  later 
period,  he  did  not  find  the  amiable  chamberlain  at  the 
gates  of  the  abbey.  Upon  inquiiy,  he  learnt  his 
condition,  and  immediately  took  steps  to  procure  his 
deliverance.  Dr.  Ruffam  came  to  his  aid  :  "  Give  him 
to  me,"  said  Barnes,  "  I  will  take  him  to  Cambridge." 
The  pi-ior  of  the  Augustiues  was  at  that  time  held  in 
high  esteem  ;  his  request  was  granted,  in  the  hope  that 
he  would  lead  back  Bayfield  to  the  doctrines  of  the 
chiu-ch.  But  the  very  reverse  took  place :  irrtercourse 
with  the  Cambridge  brethren  strengthened  the  young 
monk's  faith.  On  a  sudden  his  happiness  vanished. 
Barnes,  his  friend  and  benefactor,  was  carried  to 
London  ;  and  the  monks  of  Bury  St.  Edmunds,  alarmed 
at  the  noise  this  affair  created,  summoned  him  to  re- 
turn to  the  abbey.  But  Bayfield,  resolving  to  submit 
to  their  yoke  no  longer,  went  to  London,  and  lay 
concealed  at  Maxwell  and  Stacy's.  One  day,  having 
left  his  hiding-place,  he  was  crossing  Lombai-d  Street, 


when  he  met  a  priest  namoil  Picrson  and  two  other 
religious  of  his  order,  with  whom  he  entered  into  a 
conversation  which  greatly  scandalized  them.  "  You 
must  dejjart  forthwith,"  said  Maxwell  and  Stacy  to 
him  on  his  return.  Bayfield  received  a  small  sum 
of  money  from  them,  went  on  board  a  ship,  and  as 
soon  as  ho  reached  the  Continent,  hastened  to  find 
Tyndale.  During  this  time  scenes  of  a  very  different 
nature  from  those  which  had  taken  place  at  Cam- 
bridge, but  not  less  heart-rending,  were  passing  at 
Oxford. 

The  storm  of  persecution  was  raging  there  with 
more  violence  than  at  Cambrige.  Clark  and  the  other 
confessors  of  the  name  of  Christ  were  still  confined 
in  their  under-ground  prison.  The  air  they  breathed, 
the  food  they  took,  (and  they  ate  nothing  but  salt  fish.) 
the  burning  thirst  this  created,  the  thouglits  by  which 
they  were  agitated,  all  together  combined  to  crush 
these  noble-hearted  men.  Their  bodies  wasted  day 
by  day;  they  wandered  like  spectres  up  and  down 
their  gloomy  cellar.  Those  animated  discussions,  iu 
which  the  deep  questions  then  convulsing  Christendom 
were  so  eloquently  debated,  were  at  an  end ;  they  were 
like  shadow  meeting  shadow.  Their  hollow  eyes  cast 
a  vague  and  haggard  glance  on  one  another,  and,  after 
gazing  for  a  moment,  they  passed  on  without  speaking. 
Clark,  Sumner,  Bayley,  and  Goodman,  consumed  by 
fever,  feebly  crawled  along,  leaning  against  their  dun- 
geon walls.  The  tiist,  who  was  also  the  eldest,  could 
not  walk  without  the  support  of  one  of  his  fellow- 
prisoners.  Soon  he  was  quite  unable  to  move,  and  lay 
stretched  ujion  the  damp  floor.  The  brethren  gathered 
ronnd  him,  sought  to  discover  iu  his  featuics  whether 
death  was  not  about  to  cut  short  the  days  of  him  who 
had  brought  many  of  them  to  the  knowledge  of  Christ. 
They  repeated  to  him  slowly  the  words  of  Scripture, 
and  then  knelt  down  by  his  side  aad  uttered  a  fervent 
prayer. 

Clark,  feeling  his  end  draw  near,  asked  for  the  com- 
munion. The  jailors  conveyed  his  request  to  their 
master;  the  noise  of  the  bolts  was  soon  heard,  and  a 
tnrnkey,  stepping  into  the  midst  of  the  disconsolate 
band,  pronounced  a  cruel  no !  On  hearing  this,  Clark 
looked  towards  heaven,  and  exclaimed  with  a  father 
of  the  church :  Crede  et  manducasti — Believe  and  thou 
hast  eaten.  He  was  lost  in  thought :  he  contemplated 
the  crucified  Son  of  God ;  by  faith  he  ate  and  drank 
the  flesh  and  blood  of  Christ,  and  experienced  in  his 
inner  life  the  strengthening  action  of  the  Redeemer. 
Men  might  refuse  him  the  host,  but  Jesus  had  given 
him  His  body ;  and  from  that  hour  he  felt  strengthened 
by  a  living  union  with  the  King  of  heaven. 

Not  filone  did  Clark  descend  into  the  shado\\'y  valley: 
Sumner,  Bayley,  and  Goodman,  were  sinking  rapidly. 
Death,  the  gloomy  inhabitant  of  this  foul  prison,  had 
taken  possession  of  these  four  friends.  Their  brethren 
addressed  fresh  solicitations  to  the  cardinal,  at  that 
time  closely  occupied  in  negotii' lions  with  France, 
Rome,  and  Venice.  He  found  means  however,  to 
give  a  moment  to  the  Oxford  mariyrs ;  and,  just  as 
these  Christians  were  praying  over  their  four  dying 
companions,  the  commissioner  came  and  informed 
them,  that  "  his  lordship,  of  his  great  goodness,  per- 
mitted the  sick  persons  to  be  removed  to  their  own 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


chambers."  Litters  were  brought,  on  wliicli  the  dying 
men  ivere  phicerl,  and  carried  to  their  rooms  ;  the  doors 
were  closed  again  upon  those  whose  lives  this  frightful 
dungeon  had  not  yet  attacked. 

It  was  the  middle  of  August.  The  wretched  men 
who  had  passed  six  months  in  the  cellar  were  trans- 
ported in  vain  to  their  chambers  and  their  beds ; 
several  members  of  the  university  ineffectually  tried, 
by  their  cares  and  their  tender  charity,  to  recall  them 
to  life.  It  was  too  late.  The  severities  of  Popery 
had  killed  these  noble  witnesses.  The  approach  of 
death  soon  betrayed  itself ;  their  blood  grew  cold,  their 
limbs  stiif,  and  their  bedimmed  eyes  sought  only  Jesus 
Clirist,  their  everlasting  hope.  Clark,  Sumner,  and 
Bayley,  died  in  the  same  week.  Goodman  followed 
close  upon  them. 

This  unexpected  catastrophe  softened  "Wolsey.  He 
was  cruel  only  as  far  as  his  interest  and  the  safety 
of  the  church  required.  He  feared  that  the  death  of 
so  many  young  men  would  raise  public  opinion  against 
him,  or  that  these  catastrophes  would  damage  his 
college ;  perhaps  even  some  sentiment  of  humanity 
may  have  touched  his  heart.  "  Set  the  rest  at  liberty," 
he  wrote  to  his  agents  ;  "  but  upon  condition  that  they 
do  not  go  above  ten  miles  from  Oxford."  The  uni- 
versity beheld  these  young  men  issue  from  their  living 
tomb,  pale,  wasted,  weak,  and  with  faltering  steps. 
At  that  time  they  were  not  men  of  mark ;  it  was  their 
youth  that  touched  the  spectators'  hearts ;  but  in  after- 
years  they  all  occupied  an  important  place  in  the 
church.  They  were, — Cox,  who  became  bishop  of  Ely, 
and  tutor  to  Edward  the  Prince  Royal ;  Drumm,  who 
under  Cranmer  became  one  of  the  six  preachers  at 
Canterbmy ;  Udal,  afterwards  master  of  Westminster 
and  Eton  schools ;  Salisbury,  dean  of  Norwich,  and 
then  bishop  of  Sodor  and  Man,  who  in  all  his  wealth 
and  greatness  often  recalled  his  frightful  prison  at  Ox- 
ford as  a  title  to  glory;  Ferrar,  afterwards  Cranmer's 
chaplain,  bishop  of  St.  David's,  and  a  martyr  even 
unto  death,  after  an  interval  of  thirty  years ;  Fryth, 
Tyndale's  friend,  to  whom  this  deliverance  proved  only 
a  delay ;  and  several  others.  When  they  came  forth 
from  their  terrible  dungeon,  their  friends  ran  up  to 
them,  supported  their  faltering  steps,  and  embraced 
them  amidst  floods  of  tears.  Fryth  quitted  the  uni- 
versity not  long  after,  and  went  to  Flanders.  Thus 
was  the  tempest  stayed  which  had  so  fearfully  ravaged 
Oxford.  But  the  calm  was  of  no  long  duration;  an 
unexpected  circumstance  became  perilous  to  the  cause 
of  the  Reformation. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Luther's  Letter  to  the  King— Heni-y's  Anger— His  Reply— Luther's  Eesolu- 
tiou— Persecutions— Bames  Escapes — Proclamations  against  the  New 
Testament— W.  Roy  to  Caiaphas— Third  Edition  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment -The  Triumph  of  Law  and  Liberty— Haclict  attaclcs  the  Printer— 
natlict's  Complaints— A  Seizure— The  Year  1526  in  England 

Henry  was  still  under  the  impression  of  the  famous 
"  Supplication  of  the  Beggars,"  when  Luther's  interfer- 
ence increased  his  anger.     The  letter  which,   at  the 


advice  of  Christiern,  king  of  Denmark,  this  reformer 
had  written  to  him  in  September,  1525,  had  miscarried. 
The  Wittemberg  doctor  hearing  nothing  of  it,  had  boldly 
printed  it,  and  sent  a  copy  to  the  king.  "I  am  in- 
formed," said  Luther,  "  that  your  Majesty  is  beginning 
to  favour  the  Gospel,  and  to  be  disgusted  with  the  per- 
verse race  that  fights  against  it  in  your  noble  kingdom. 
.  .  .  .  It  is  true  that,  according  to  Scripture,  the 
kinfjs  of  the  earth  lake  counsel  together  against  the  Lord, 
and  we  cannot,  consequently,  expect  to  see  them 
favourable  to  the  truth.  How  fervently  do  I  wish 
that  this  miracle  may  be  accomplished  in  the  person  of 
your  Majesty." 

Wc  may  imagine  Honi-y's  wrath  as  he  read  this 
letter.  "What!"  said  he,  "does  this  apostate  monk 
dare  print  a  letter  addressed  to  us,  without  having  even 
sent  it,  or  at  the  least  without  iinowing  if  we  have  ever 
received  it  ?  .  .  .  And  as  if  that  were  not  enough, 
he  insinuates  that  we  are  among  his  partisans.  .  .  . 
He  wins  over  also  one  or  two  wretches,  born  in  our 
kingdom,  and  engages  them  to  translate  the  New  Testa- 
ment into  English,  adding  thereto  certain  prefaces  and 
poisonous  glosses."  Thus  spoke  Henry.  The  idea  that 
his  name  should  be  associated  with  that  of  the  Wittem- 
berg monk,  called  all  the  blood  into  his  face.  He  will 
reply  right  royally  to  such  unblushing  impudence.  He 
summoned  Wolsey  forthwith.  "  Here  ! "  said  he,  point- 
ing to  a  passage  concerning  the  prelate ;  "  here  !  read 
what  is  said  of  you !"  And  then  he  read  aloud :  '■'■Illud 
monstnnn  et  imhlkum  odium  Dei  et  homimim,  cardinalis 
Eboracensis,  pestis  ilia  regiii  tui.  You  see,  my  Lord, 
you  are  a  monster,  an  object  of  hatred  both  to  God  and 
man,  the  scourge  of  my  kingdom  ! "  The  king  had 
hitherto  allowed  the  bishops  to  do  as  they  pleased, 
and  observed  a  sort  of  neutrality.  He  now  determined 
to  lay  it  aside,  and  begin  a  crusade  against  the  Gospel 
of  Jesus  Christ;  but  he  must  first  answer  this  im- 
pertinent letter.  He  consulted  Sir  Thomas  More,  shut 
himself  in  his  closet,  and  dictated  to  his  secretary  a 
reply  to  the  reformer.  "  You  are  ashamed  of  the  book 
you  have  written  against  me,"  he  said;  "I  would  counsel 
you  to  be  ashamed  of  all  that  you  have  written.  They 
are  full  of  disgusting  en-ors  and  frantic  heresies,  and 
are  supported  by  the  most  audacious  obstinacy.  Your 
venomous  pen  mocks  the  church,  insults  the  fathers, 
abuses  the  saints,  despises  the  apostles,  dishonours  the 
holy  virgin,  and  blasphemes  God,  by  making  Him  the 
autlior  of  evil.  .  .  .  And  after  all  that,  you  claim 
to  1)0  au  author  whose  like  does  not  exist  in  tlje 
world ! " 

"  You  offer  to  publish  a  book  in  my  praise.  .  .  . 
I  thank  you!  .  .  .  You  will  praise  mo  most  by 
abusing  me ;  you  will  dishonour  me  beyond  measure  if 
you  ]iraise  me.  I  say  with  Seneca :  2'am  turpe  tibi  sit 
lau'hiri  a  turpibvs,  quam  si  lauderis  oh  turpia." 

This  letter,  written  by  the  king  of  the  English  to  the 
king  of  the  heretics,  was  immediately  cu'culated  through- 
out England,  bound  up  with  Luther's  epistle.  Henry, 
by  publishing  it,  put  his  subjects  on  their  guard  against 
the  mfaithful  translations  of  the  New  Testament, 
which  were,  besides,  about  to  be  burnt  everywhere. 
"  The  grapes  seem  beautiful,"  he  said,  "  but  beware 
how  you  wet  your  lips  with  the  wine  made  from  them, 
for  the  adversary  hath  mingled  poison  with  it." 


LUTHER'S  FIRMNESS- BAENES  ESCAPES. 


653 


Luther,  agitated  by  tliis  rude  lesson,  tried  to  excuse 
himself.  "  1  said  to  myself,  7'hei-e  are  tweh-e  fioiirs  in 
the  (1(11/.  Wiio  knows  .'  porimps  I  m;vy  find  one  lucky 
hour  to  gain  the  King  of  England.  I  therefore  laid 
my  humble  epistle  at  his  feet ;  but,  alas !  the  swine 
have  torn  it.  I  am  willing  to  be  silent ;  .  .  .  but 
as  regards  my  doctrine,  I  cannot  impose  silence  on  it. 
It  must  ciy  aloud,  it  must  bite.  If  any  king  imagines 
he  can  make  me  refract  my  faith,  he  is  a  dreamer.  So 
long  as  one  drop  of  blood  remains  in  my  body,  I  shall 
say  NO.  Emperors,  kings,  the  devil,  and  even  the 
wliole  universe,  cannot  frighten  me  when  faith  is  con- 
cerned. I  claim  to  be  proud,  very  proud,  exceedingly 
proud.  If  my  doctrine  had  no  other  enemies  than  the 
King  of  England,  Duke  George,  the  pope,  and  their 
allies,  all  these  soap-bubbles,  .  .  .  one  little  prayer 
would  long  ago  have  worsted  them  all.  Wliere  are 
Pihite,  Herod,  and  Caiaphas,  now?  Where  are  Nero, 
Domitian,  and  Maximilian?  Where  are  Arius,  Pela- 
gius,  and  Manes? — Where  are  they?  .  .  .  AVhere 
all  our  scribes  and  all  our  tyrants  will  soon  be. — But 
Ciirist?     Christ  is  the  same  always. 

"  For  a  thousand  years  the  Holy  Scriptures  have  not 
shone  in  the  world  with  so  much  brightness  as  now.  I 
wait  in  jieaee  for  my  last  hour ;  I  have  done  wliat  I 
could.  O  princes,  my  hands  are  clean  from  your 
blood ;  it  will  fall  on  your  own  heads." 

Bowing  before  the  supreme  royalty  of  Jesus  Christ, 
Luther  spoke  tluis  boldly  to  King  Henry,  who  con- 
tested the  rights  of  the  Word  of  God. 

A  letter  written  against  the  reformer  was  not  enough 
for  the  bishops.  Profiting  by  the  wound  Luther  had 
inflicted  on  Henry's  self-esteem,  they  urged  hun  to  put 
down  this  revolt  of  the  human  understanding,  which 
threatened  (as  they  averred)  both  the  popedom  and 
the  monarcliy.  Tliey  commenced  the  persecution. 
Latimer  was  summoned  before  AVolsey,  but  his  learning 
and  presence  of  mind  procured  his  dismissal.  Bilney 
also,  who  had  been  ordered  to  London,  received  an 
injunction  not  to  preach  Ltdhers  doctrines.  "  I  will 
not  preach  Luther's  doctrines,  if  there  are  any  peculiar 
to  him,"  he  said ;  "  but  I  can  and  I  must  preach  the 
doctrine  of  Jesus  Christ,  although  Luther  should  preach 
it  too."  And  finally,  Garret,  led  into  the  presence  of 
his  judges,  was  seized  with  terror,  and  fell  before  tlie 
cruel  threats  of  the  bishop.  When  restored  to  liberty, 
he  fled  from  place  to  place,  endeavouring  to  hide  his 
sorrow,  and  to  escape  from  the  despotism  of  the  priests, 
awaiting  the  moment  when  he  should  give  his  life  for 
Jesus  Clirist. 

The  adversaries  of  the  Refonnatioa  were  not  yet 
satisfied.  The  New  Testament  continued  to  circulate, 
and  depots  were  formed  in  several  convents.  Barnes, 
a  prisoner  in  the  Augustine  monasteiy  in  London,  had 
regained  his  courage,  and  loved  his  Bible  more  and 
more.  One  day  about  the  end  of  September,  as  three 
or  four  friends  were  reading  in  his  chamber,  two  simple 
peasants,  John  Tyball  and  Thomas  Hilles,  natives  of 
Bumpstead  in  Essex,  came  in.  "  How  did  you  come 
to  a  knowledge  of  the  truth  ?  "  asked  Barnes.  They 
drew  from  their  pockets  some  old  volumes  containing 
tlie  Gospels  and  a  few  of  the  Epistles,  in  English. 
Barnes  returned  them  with  a  smile.  "They  are 
nothing,"  he  told  them,  "  in  comparison  with  the  new 


edition  of  the  New  Testament,"  a  copy  of  which  the 
two  peasants  bought  for  three  shillings  and  two-pence. 
"Hide  it  carefully,"  said  Barnes.  When  this  came  to 
the  ears  of  the  clergj',  Barnes  was  removed  to  North- 
ampton to  be  burnt  at  the  stake ;  but  he  managed  to 
escape;  his  friends  reported  that  he  was  drowned; 
and  while  strict  search  was  making  for  him  during  a 
whole  week  along  the  sea-coast,  he  secretly  went  ou 
board  a  ship,  and  was  carried  to  Germany.  "  The 
cardinal  will  catch  him  even  now,"  said  the  Bishop  of 
London,  "  whatever  amount  of  money  it  may  cost  him." 
When  Barnes  was  told  of  this,  he  remarked :  "  I  am  a 
poor  simple  wretch,  not  worth  the  tenth  penny  they 
will  give  for  me.  Besides,  if  they  burn  me,  what  will 
they  gain  by  it  ?  .  .  .  .  Tiie  sun  and  the  moon, 
fire  and  water,  the  stars  and  the  elements — ^yea,  and 
also  stones,  shall  defend  this  cause  against  them,  rather 
than  the  truth  should  perish."  Faith  had  returned  to 
Barnes's  feeble  heart. 

His  escape  added  fuel  to  the  wrath  of  the  clei-gy. 
They  proclaimed,  throughout  the  length  and  breadth  of 
England,  that  the  Holy  Scriptures  contained  an  infec- 
tious poison,  and  ordered  a  general  search  after  the 
Word  of  God.  On  the  24111  of  October,  1526,  the 
Bishop  of  Loudon  enjoined  on  his  archdeacons  to  seize 
all  translations  of  the  Now  Testament  in  English  with 
or  without  glosses ;  and,  a  few  days  later,  the  Arch- 
bishop of  Canterbury  issued  a  mandate  against  all  the 
books  which  should  contain  "  any  particle  of  the  New 
Testament."  The  primate  remembered  that  a  spark 
was  sufficient  to  kindle  a  large  fire. 

On  hearing  of  this  order,  AVilliam  Roy,  a  sarcastic 
writer,  published  a  violent  satire,  in  which  figured 
Judas,  (Standish,)  Pilate,  (Wolsey,)  and  Caiaphas,  (Ton- 
stall.)     The  author  exclaimed  with  energy: 

God,  of  His  goodness,  grudged  not  to  die, 

Man  to  deliver  from  deadly  damnation ; 

Whose  wiU  is,  tliat  we  should  know  perfectly 

Wliat  He  li.ir  !..!!>  ^;   :,    1,  1  Mi:  solvation. 
0  cruelCaiq  I,  nispu-ation, 

ToburnGod's  \V.  il -:!,.   IJ    1;,   1   .lament? 

The  efforts  of  Caiaphas  and  his  colleagues  were 
indeed  useless:  the  priests  were  undertaking  a  work 
beyond  their  strength.  If,  by  some  terrible  revolution, 
all  social  forms  should  be  destroyed  in  the  world,  the 
living  Church  of  the  elect,  a  Divine  institution  in  the 
midst  of  human  institutions,  would  still  exist  by  the 
power  of  God,  like  a  rock  in  the  midst  of  the  tempest, 
and  would  transmit  to  future  generations  the  seeds  of 
Christian  life  and  civilization.  It  is  the  same  with  the 
Word,  the  creative  principle  of  the  Church.  It  cannot 
perish  here  below.  The  priests  of  England  had  some- 
thing to  learn  on  this  matter. 

While  the  agents  of  the  clergy  were  carrying  out 
the  archiepiscopal  mandate,  and  a  merciless  search  was 
making  everywhere  for  the  New  Testameots  from 
Worms,  a  new  edition  was  discovered,  fresh  from  the 
press,  of  a  smaller  and  more  portable,  and  consequently 
more  dangerous  size.  It  was  printed  by  Chi-istopher 
Eyudhoveu  of  Antwerp,  who  had  consigned  it  to  bis 
correspondents  in  London.  The  annoyance  of  the 
priests  was  extreme,  and  Hackett,  the  agent  of  Hem-y 
Vin.   in   the   Low   Countries,    immediately   received 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


orilers  to  get  t)iis  mau  puDished.  "We  cannot  deliver 
judgment  witliout  iuquiiy  into  the  matter,"  said  the 
lords  of  Antwerp ;  "  we  will  therefore  have  the  book 
translated  into  Flemish."  "  God  forbid,"  said  Hackett 
in  alarm ;  "  What !  would  you  also,  on  your  side  of  the 
ocean,  translate  this  book  into  the  language  of  the 
people  ?  "  "  Well,  then,"  said  one  of  the  judges,  less 
conscientious  than  his  colleagues,  "  let  the  King  of 
England  send  us  a  copy  of  each  of  the  books  he  has 
burnt,  and  we  will  bum  them  likewise."  Hackett 
wrote  to  Wolsey  for  them,  and  as  soon  as  they  arrived 
the  court  met  again.  Eyudhoven's  counsel  called  upon 
the  prosecutor  to  point  out  the  heresies  contained  in  the 
volume.  The  margrave  (an  officer  of  the  imperial 
government)  shrank  from  the  task,  and  said  to  Hackett, 
"  I  give  up  the  business ! "  The  charge  against  Eynd- 
hoven  was  dismissed. 

Thus  did  tlie  Reformation  awaken  in  Europe  the 
slumbering  spirit  of  law  and  liberty.  By  enfranchis- 
ing thought  from  the  yoke  of  Popery,  it  prepared  the 
way  for  other  enfranchisements  ;  and  by  restoring  the 
authority  of  the  AVord  of  God,  it  brought  back  the 
reign  of  the  law  among  nations  long  the  prey  of  tur- 
bulent passions  and  arbitrary  power.  Then,  as  at  all 
times,  religious  society  forestalled  civil  society,  and 
gave  it  those  two  great  principles  of  order  and  liberty 
■which  Popery  compromises  or  annuls.  It  was  not  in 
vain  that  the  magistrates  of  a  Flemish  city,  enlightened 
by  the  first  dawn  of  the  Reformation,  set  so  noble  an 
example ;  the  English,  who  were  very  numerous  in 
the  Hanse  Towns,  thus  learnt  once  moi-e  the  value 
of  that  civil  and  i-eligious  liberty  which  is  the  time- 
honoured  right  of  England,  and  of  which  they  were 
in  after-years  to  give  other  nations  the  so  much  needed 
lessons. 

"  Well,  then,"  said  Hackett,  who  was  annoyed  at  their 
setting  the  law  above  his  master's  will,  "  I  will  go  and 
buy  all  these  books,  and  send  them  to  the  cardinal, 
that  he  may  burn  them."  With  these  words  he  left 
the  court.  But  his  anger  evaporating,  he  set  off  for 
Maliues,  to  complain  to  the  regent  and  her  council  of 
the  Antwerp  decision.  "  What ! "  said  he,  "  you  pun- 
ish those  who  circulate  false  money,  and  you  will  not 
punish  still  more  severely  the  mau  who  coins  it  ? — in 
this  case,  he  is  the  printer." — "  But  that  is  just  the 
poiiit  \\\  disjjute,"  they  replied ;  "  we  are  not  sure  the 
money  is  false."  "  How  can  it  be  otherwise,"  answered 
Henry's  agent,  "  since  the  bishops  of  England  have 
declared  it  so  ? "  The  imperial  government,  which  was 
not  very  favourably  disposed  towards  England,  ratified 
Eyudhoven's  acquittal,  but  permitted  Hackett  to  bnru 
all  the  copies  of  the  New  Testament  he  could  seize. 
He  hastened  to  j)rotit  by  this  concession,  and  began 
hunting  after  the  Holy  Scriptures,  while  the  priests 
eagerly  came  to  his  assistance.  In  their  view,  as  well 
as  in  tliat  of  their  English  colleagues,  the  supreme  deci- 
sion in  matter  of  faith  rested  not  with  the  Word  of 
God,  but  witli  the  pope ;  and  the  best  means  of  securing 
this  privilege  to  the  pontiff  was  to  reduce  the  Bible 
to  ashes. 

Notwithstanding  these  trials,  the  year  1526  was  a 
memorable  one  for  England.  The  English  New  Testa- 
ment had  been  circulated  from  the  shores  of  the  Chan- 
nel to  the  borders  of  Scotland :  and  the  Reformation 


had  begun  in  that  island  by  the  Word  of  God.  The 
revival  of  the  sixteenth  century  was  in  no  country  less 
than  in  England  the  emanation  of  a  royal  mandate. 
But  God,  who  had  disseminated  the  Scriptures  over 
Britain,  in  defiance  of  the  rulers  of  the  nation,  was 
about  to  make  use  of  their  passions  to  remove  the 
difficulties  which  opposed  the  final  triumph  of  His  plans. 
We  here  enter  upon  a  new  phasis  in  the  histoi-y  of  the 
Reformation  ;  and  having  studied  the  work  of  God  in 
the  faith  of  the  little  ones,  we  proceed  to  contemplate 
the  work  of  man  in  the  intrigues  of  the  great  ones  of 
the  earth. 


CHAPTER  V. 

Wolsey  desires  to  be  i-evengeil— The  Divorce  suggested— Henry's  sentiments 
towards  the  Queen -Wolsey's  first  Steps— Longland's  Proceedings- 
Refusal  of  Margaret  of  Valois- Objection  of  the  Bishop  of  T.irbes— 
Henry's  Unessiness— Catherine's  Alarm— Mission  to  Spain. 

WoLSKY,  mortified  at  not  being  able  to  obtain  the 
pontifical  throne,  to  which  he  had  so  ardently  aspired, 
and  being  especially  irritated  by  the  ill-will  of  Charles 
v.,  meditated  a  plan  which,  entirely  unsuspected  by 
him,  was  to  lead  to  the  enfranchisement  of  Eugland 
from  the  papal  yoke.  "  They  laugh  at  me,  and  thrust 
me  into  the  second  rank,"  lie  had  exclaimed.  "  So  be 
it !  I  will  create  such  a  confusion  in  the  world  as  has 
not  been  seen  for  ages.  ...  I  will  do  it,  even 
should  England  be  swallowed  up  in  the  tempest ! " 
Desirous  of  exciting  imperishable  hatred  between 
Henry  VIH.  and  Charles  V.,  he  had  undertaken  to 
break  the  marria-e  which  Henry  Yll.  u-id  Ferdiuand 
the  Catholic  had  J ihii I u.-d  to  unit."  im- v\  ui- thrii- families 
and  their  crowns.  His  haiix'il  of  Charles  was  not  his 
only  motive.  Catherine  had  repi-uaelied  him  for  his 
dissolute  life,  and  he  had  sworn  to  be  revenged.  There 
can  be  no  doubt  about  Wolsey's  share  in  the  matter. 
^^  The  first  terms  of  the  divorce  were  put  forward  by 
me,"  he  told  the  French  ambassador.  "  I  did  it," 
he  added,  "  to  cause  a  lasting  separation  between  the 
houses  of  Enghmd  aud  Burgundy."  Tiie  best  informed 
writeis  of  the  >lxfoenth  century,  men  of  the  most  oppo- 
site ]iarli. -.  I'olf,  Polydore,  Virgil,  Tyudale,  Meteren, 
Pallavieiiii,  .Samlers,  and  Roper,  More's  son-in-law,  all 
agree  in  pointing  to  AYolsey  as  the  instigator  of  that 
divorce,  which  has  become  so  famous.  He  desired  to 
go  still  farther,  aud  after  inducing  the  king  to  put 
away  his  queen,  he  hoped  to  prevail  on  the  pope  to 
depose  the  emperor.  It  was  not  his  passion  for  Anne 
Boleyu,  as  so  many  of  tlie  Romish  faljulists  have 
repeated ;  but  the  passion  of  a  cardinal  for  the  triple 
crown,  which  gave  the  signal  of  England's  emancipation. 
Offended  pride  is  one  of  the  most  active  principles  of 
human  nature. 

AVolsey's  design  was  a  strange  one,  and  difficult  of 
execution,  but  not  impossible.  Henry  was  living 
apparently  on  the  best  terms  with  Catherine ;  on  more 
than  one  occasion  Erasmus  had  spoken  of  the  royal 
family  of  England  as  the  pattern  of  the  domestic  virtues. 
But  the  most  ardent  of  Henry's  desires  was  not  satisfied ; 
he  had  no  son ;  those  whom  the  queen  had  borne  him 


THE  DIVORCE  SUGGESTED. 


G55 


ha'd  died  in  tlieir  iufaucy,  and  Maiy  nlone  survived. 
The  deaths  of  tliese  little  children,  at  all  times  so  heart- 
rending, were  particularly  so  in  the  Palace  of  Green- 
wich. It  appeared  to  Catherine  that  the  shade  of  the 
last  Plantageuet,  immolated  on  her  marriage  altar, 
came  forth  to  seize  one  after  another  the  heirs  she  gave 
to  the  throne  of  England,  and  to  carry  them  away  to 
his  tomb.  The  queen  shed  tears  almost  imceasingly, 
and  implored  the  Divine  mercy,  while  the  king  cursed 
his  imhappy  fate.  The  people  seemed  to  share  in  the 
royal  sorrow;  and  men  of  learning  and  piety  (Longland 
was  among  their  number)  declared  against  the  validity 
of  the  marriage.  They  said  that  "  the  papal  dispensa- 
tions had  no  foroe  when  in  opposition  to  the  law  of 
God."  Yet,  hitherto,  Hem-y  had  rejected  every  idea 
of  a  divorce. 

The  times  had  changed  since  1509.  The  king  had 
loved  Catherine :  her  reserve,  mildness,  and  dignity, 
had  charmed  him.  Greedy  of  pleasure  and  applause, 
he  was  delighted  to  see  his  wife  content  to  be  the  quiet 
witness  of  his  joys  and  of  his  triumphs.  But  gradually 
the  queen  had  grown  older,  her  Spanish  gravity  had 
increased,  her  devout  practices  were  multi])licd,  and 
her  intirniities,  become  more  frequent,  had  left  the  king 
no  liope  of  having  a  son.  From  that  hour,  even  while 
continuing  to  praise  her  virtues,  Henry  grew  cold 
towards  her  person,  and  his  love  by  degrees  changed 
into  repugnauce.  And  then  he  thought  that  the  death 
of  his  children  might  be  a  sign  of  God's  anger.  This 
idea  had  taken  hold  of  him,  and  induced  him  to  occupy 
apartments  separate  from  the  queen's. 

Wolsey  judged  the  moment  favoiu-able  for  beginning 
the  attack.  It  was  in  the  latter  months  of  1526,  when 
calling  Longland,  the  king's  confessor,  to  him,  and 
concealing  his  principal  motive,  he  said:  "You  know 
his  majesty's  angiush.  The  stability  of  his  crown  and 
his  everlasting  salvation  seem  to  be  compromised  alike. 
To  whom  cau  I  unbosom  myself,  Lf  not  to  you,  who 
must  know  the  inmost  secrets  of  his  soul  ? "  The  two 
bishops  resolved  to  awaken  Henry  to  the  perils  incurred 
by  his  >mion  with  Catherine ;  but  Longland  insisted 
that  AVolsey  shoidd  take  the  first  steps. 

The  cardinal  waited  upon  the  king,  and  reminded 
him  of  his  scruples  before  the  betrothal;  he  exaggerated 
those  entertained  by  the  nation;  and  speaking  with 
unusual  warmth,  he  entreated  the  king  to  remain  no 
longer  in  such  danger  :  "  The  holiness  of  youi-  life  and 
the  legitimacy  of  your  succession  are  at  stake." — "  My 
good  father,"  said  Henry,  "  you  would  do  well  to  con- 
sider the  weight  of  the  stone  that  you  have  undertaken 
to  move.  The  queen  is  a  woman  of  such  exemplary 
life  that  I  have  no  motive  for  separating  from  her." 

The  cardinal  did  not  consider  himself  beaten ;  three 
days  later  he  appeared  before  the  king,  accompanied  by 
the  Bishop  of  Lincoln.  "  Most  mighty  prince,"  said 
the  confessor,  who  felt  bold  enough  to  speak  after  the 
cardinal,  "  you  cannot,  like  Herod,  have  your  brother's 
wife.  I  exhort  and  conjure  you,  as  having  the  care  of 
your  soul,  to  submit  the  matter  to  competent  judges." 
Henry  consented,  and  perhaps  not  unwillingly. 

It  was  not  enough  for  AVolsey  to  separate  Henry 
from  the  emperor ;  he  must,  for  greater  security,  unite 
him  to  Francis  I.  The  King  of  England  shall  repudiate 
the  aunt  of  Charles  V.,  and  then  marry  the  sister  of 


the  French  king.  Proud  of  the  success  he  had  obtained 
in  the  first  part  of  his  plan,  Wolsey  entered  upon  the 
second.  "There  is  a  princess,"  he  told  the  king, 
"  whose  birth,  graces,  and  talents,  charm  all  Europe. 
Margaret  of  A'alois,  sister  of  Ku)g  Francis,  is  superior 
to  all  of  her  sex,  and  no  one  is  worthier  of  your  alliauce." 
Henry  made  answer,  that  it  was  a  serious  matter, 
requiring  deliberate  examination.  AVolsey,  however, 
placed  in  the  king's  hands  a  jiortrait  of  Margtiret,  and 
it  has  been  imagined  that  he  even  privily  caused  her 
sentiments  to  be  sounded.  Be  that  as  it  may,  the  sister 
of  Francis  I.,  having  learnt  that  she  was  pointed  at  as 
the  futm-e  Queen  of  England,  rebelled  at  the  idea  of 
taking  from  an  innocent  woman  a  crown  she  had  worn 
so  nobly.  "  The  Frencli  king's  sister  knows  too  much 
of  Christ  to  consent  unto  such  wickedness,"  said 
Tyndalc.  Margaret  of  Valois  replied :  "  Let  me  hear 
no  more  of  a  marriage  that  can  be  effected  only  at  the 
expense  of  Cathermc  of  Arragon's  happiness  and  life." 
The  woman  who  was  destined  in  future  years  to  fill  the 
throne  of  England  was  tlien  residing  at  Margaret's 
court.  Shortly  after  this,  on  the  2-lth  of  January, 
1527,  the  sister  of  Francis  I.  married  Henry  d'Albret, 
king  of  Navarre. 

Henry  VIU.,  desirous  of  information  with  regard 
to  his  favourite's  suggestion,  commissioned  Fox,  his 
almoner.  Pace,  dean  of  St.  Paul's,  and  AA^akefleld, 
professor  of  Hebrew  at  Oxford,  to  study  the  passages 
of  Leviticus  and  Deuteronomy  which  related  to  mar- 
riage with  a  brother's  wife.  AVakefield,  who  had  no 
wish  to  commit  himself,  asked  whether  Henry  was  for 
or  against  the  divorce.  Pace  replied  to  this  servUe 
Hebraist,  that  the  king  wanted  uotliing  but  the  truth. 

But  who  would  take  the  first  public  step  in  an  under- 
taking so  haziivtlous  ?  Every  one  shrank  back ;  the 
terrible  emperor  alarmed  them  all.  It  was  a  French 
bishop  that  hazarded  the  step ;  bishops  meet  us  at  every 
turn  in  this  affair  of  the  divorce,  with  which  bishops 
have  so  violently  reproached  the  Reformation.  Henry, 
desu-ous  of  excusing  AVolsey,  pretended  afterwards  that 
the  objections  of  the  French  prelate  had  preceded  those 
of  Longland  and  the  cardinal.  In  February,  1527, 
Francis  I.  had  sent  an  embassy  to  London,  at  the  head 
of  which  was  Gabriel  de  Grammont,  bishop  of  Tarbes, 
with  the  intention  to  i)rocure  the  hand  of  Mary  of 
England.  Henry's  ministers  having  iuquii-ed  whether 
the  engagements  of  Francis  with  the  queen-dowager 
of  Portugal  did  not  oppose  the  commission  with  which 
the  French  bishop  was  charged,  the  latter  answered : 
''  I  wdll  ask  you  in  turn,  what  has  been  done  to  remove 
the  impedunents  which  opposed  the  marriage  of  which 
the  Princess  Mary  is  issue?"  They  laid  before  the 
ambassador  the  dispensation  of  Julius  IL,  which  he 
returned,  sayiug,  that  the  bull  was  not  snjicient,  seeing 
that  such  a  marriage  was  forbidden  ^w re  Dicino;  and  he 
added:  "Have  you  English  a  different  Gospel  from 
ours  ?  " 

The  king,  when  he  heard  these  words,  (as  he  informs 
us  himself,)  was  filled  with  fear  and  horror.  Three 
of  the  most  respected  bishops  of  Christendom  united 
to  accuse  htm  of  incest !  Ho  began  to  speak  of  it  to 
certain  individuals:  "The  scruples  of  my  conscience 
have  been  terribly  increased  (he  said)  since  the  bishop 
spoke  of  this  matter  before  my  council  in  exceedingly 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


plain  words."  Tliere  is  no  reason  to  believe  that  these 
terrible  troubles  of  wliich  the  king  speaks  were  a  mere 
invention  on  his  part.  A  disputed  succession  might 
again  plunge  England  into  civil  war.  Even  if  no  pre- 
tenders should  spring  up,  might  they  not  see  a  rival 
house,  a  French  |irinco.  for  instance,  wedded  to  Henry's 


daughter,  reigning  over  England?  The  king,  in  his 
anxiety,  had  recourse  to  his  favourite  author,  Thomas 
Aquinas,  and  tliis  angel  of  the  schools  declared  his  mar- 
riage unlawful.  Henry  next  opened  the  Bible,  and 
found  this  threat  against  the  man  who  took  his 
brother's  wife:  He  shall  be  childless.'  The  denun- 
ciation increased  his  trouble,  for  he  had  no  heir.  In 
the  midst  of  this  darkness  a  new  perspective  opened 
before  him.  His  conscience  might  be  unbound ;  his 
desire  to  have  a  younger  wife  might  be  gratified ;  he 
might  have  a  son  !  .  .  .  The  king  resolved  to  lay 
the  matter  before  a  commission  of  lawyers ;  and  this 
commission  soon  wrote  volumes. 

During  all  this  time  Catherine,  suspecting  no  evil, 
was  occupied  in  her  devotions.  Her  heart,  bruised 
by  the  death  of  her  children  and  by  the  king's  coldness, 
sought  consolation  in  prayer,  both  privately  and  in  the 
royal  chapel.  She  would  rise  at  midnight  and  kneel 
do\vn  upon  the  cold  stones,  and  never  missed  any  of  the 
canonical  services.  But  one  day  (probably  iu  May  or 
June,  1527)  some  officious  person  informed  her  of  the 
rumours  circulating  in  the  city  and  at  court.  Bursting 
with  auger  and  alarm,  and  all  in  tears,  she  hastened  to 
the  king,  and  addressed  him  with  the  bitterest  com- 
plaints. Henry  was  content  to  calm  her  by  vague 
assurances  ;  but  the  unfeeling  Wolsey,  troubling  himself 
still  less  than  his  master  about  Catherine's  emotion, 
called  if,  with  a  smile,  "  a  short  tragedy." 

The  offended  wife  lost  no  time ;  it  was  necessary  that 
the  emperor  should  be  informed  promptly,  surely,  and 
accurately,  of  this  unprecedented  insult.  A  letter  would 
be  insufficient,  even  were  it  not  intercepted.  Catherine 
therefore  determined  to  send  her  sei-vant,  Francis  Philip, 
a  Spaniard,  to  her  nephew;  and  to  conceal  the  object  of 
his  journey,  they  proceeded,  after  the  tragedy,  to  play  a 
comedy  in  the  Spanish  style.     "  My  mother  is  sick,  and 


desires  to  see  me,"  said  Philip.  Catherine  begged  the 
king  to  refuse  her  servant's  prayer ;  and  Henry,  divining 
the  stratagem,  resolved  to  employ  trick  against  trick. 
"Philip's  request  is  very  proper,"  he  made  answer; 
and  Catherine,  from  regard  to  her  husband,  consented 
to  his  departure.  Henry,  meantime,  had  given  orders 
that,  "  notwithstanding  any  safe  conduct,  the  said 
Philip  should  be  arrested  and  detained  at  Calais,  iu 
such  a  manner,  however,  that  no  one  should  know 
whence  the  stoppage  proceeded." 

It  was  to  no  purpose  that  the  queen  indulged  in  a 
culpable  dissimulation.  A  poisoned  arrow  had  pierced 
lior  heart;  and  her  words,  her  manners,  her  complaints, 
li(  1  teais,  the  numerous  messages  she  sent,  now  to  one 
md  now  to  another,  betrayed  the  secret  which  the  king 
will  1  ^(ill  to  conceal.  Her  friends  blamed  her  for 
til  I  mMk  uy.  Men  wondered  what  Charles  would  say 
wli  II  li  heaid  of  his  aunt's  distress;  they  feared  that 
I  UL  \suuld  be  broken;  but  Catherine,  whose  heart 
w  IS  "  rent  in  twain,"  was  not  to  be  moved  by  diplomatic 
( imsideiatious.  Her  sorrow  did  not  check  Henry; 
with  the  two  motives  which  made  him  eager  for  a 
divoice — the  scruples  of  his  conscience  and  the  desire 
of  an  heir — -nas  now  combined  a  third,  still  more 
foicible.  A  TV  Oman  was  about  to  play  an  important 
pait  in  the  destinies  of  England. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Anne  BolejTi  appointed  Maid  of  Honour  to  Cailieriuc— Lord  Percy  becomes 
attaclied  to  lier— Woisey  Separates  tiiem — Anne  enters  Margaret's 
Houseliold— Siege  of  Rome ;  Cromwell— Wolaey's  Intercession  for  tlie 
Topedom — He  demands  tlie  Hand  of  Renee  of  France  for  Henry — 
Failure— Anne  re-appears  at  Court— Repels  the  King's  Advances- 
Henry's  Letter— He  resolves  to  accelerate  the  Divorce— Two  Motives 
which  induce  Anno  to  I{efuse  the  Crown— Wolsey's  Opposition. 

Anne  Boleyn,  who  had  been  placed  by  her  father  at 
the  court  of  France,  had  returned  to  England  with 
Sir  Thomas,  then  ambassador  at  Paris,  at  the  time  that 
an  English  army  made  an  incursion  into  Normandy, 
(1522.)  It  would  appear  that  she  was  presented  to  the 
queen  about  this  period,  and  appointed  one  of  Cathe- 
rine's maids  of  honour.  The  following  year  was  a 
memorable  one  to  her  from  her  first  sorrow. 

Among  the  young  noblemen  in  the  cardinal's  house- 
hold was  Lord  Percy,  eldest  son  of  the  Earl  of  North- 
umberland. While  Wolsey  was  closeted  with  the  king, 
Percy  was  accustomed  to  resort  to  the  queen's  apart- 
ments, where  he  passed  the  time  among  her  ladies. 
He  soon  felt  a  sincere  passion  for  Anne,  and  the  young 
maid  of  honour,  who  had  been  cold  to  the  addresses 
of  the  gentlemen  at  the  court  of  Francis,  replied  to  the 
affections  of  the  heir  of  Northumberland.  The  two 
young  people  already  indulged  in  day-dreams  of  a 
quiet,  elegant,  and  happy  life,  in  their  noble  castles 
of  the  north ;  but  such  dreams  wei'e  fated  to  be  of 
short  duration. 

AYolsey  hated  the  Norfolks,  and  consequently  the 
Boleyns.  It  was  to  counterbalance  their  influence  that 
ho  had  been  first  introduced  at  court.      He  became 


WOLSEY  SEPARATES  THE  YOUNG  LOVERS. 


657 


angry,  therefore,  wlicn  he  saw  one  of  his  household 
suing  for  the  hand  of  the  daughter  and  niece  of  his 
enemies.  Besides,  certain  partisans  of  tlic  clergy 
accused  Anne  of  being  friendly  to  the  Reformation. 
.  .  .  It  is  generally  believed  that,  oven  at  this 
period,  Wolscy  had  discovered  Ileniy's  eyes  turned 
complacently  on  the  young  maid  of  honour,  and  that 
this  induced  him  to  thwart  Percy's  love  ;  but  this  seems 
improbable.  Of  all  the  women  in  England,  Anne  was 
the  one  whose  influence  AVolsey  would  have  had  most 
cause  to  fear,  and  he  really  did  fear  it ;  and  he  would 
have  been  but  too  happy  to  see  her  married  to  Percy. 
It  has  been  asserted  that  Henry  prevailed  on  the  cardinal 
to  thwart  the  affection  of  the  two  young  people ;  but 
in  that  case  did  he  confide  to  AVolsey  the  real  motive 
of  his  opposition?  Did  the  latter  entertain  criminal 
intentions  .'  Did  he  nudertakc  to  yield  up  to  dishonour 
the  daughter  and  niece  of  his  political  adversaries  I 
This  would  be  horrible,  but  it  is  possible,  and  may  even 
be  deduced  from  Cavendish's  narrative ;  yet  we  will 
hope  that  it  was  not  so.  If  it  were,  Anne's  virtue 
successfully  baflled  the  infamous  plot. 

But  be  that  as  it  may,  one  day  when  Pivcy  was  in 
attendance  upon  the  cardinal,  the  latter  iiid.  ly  aiMn--.  .1 
him:  "I  marvel  at  your  folly,  that  you  .-hcniM  :itlriii|it 
to  contract  yotnself  with  that  girl  without  your  falliei's 
or  the  king's  consent.  I  command  you  to  break  with 
licr."  Percy  burst  into  tears,  and  besought  the  cardinal 
to  plead  his  cause.  "  I  charge  you  to  resort  no  more 
into  her  company,"  was  A\'olsey's  cold  reply;  after 
wliieli  he  rose  up,  and  left  the  room.  Anne  received 
an  order  at  the  same  time  to  leave  the  court.  Proud 
and  bold,  and  ascribing  her  misfortune  to  Wolsey's 
hatred,  she  exclaimed,  as  she  quitted  the  palace,  "I  will 
be  revenged  for  this  insult."  But  she  had  scarcely 
taken  up  lier  abode  in  the  Gothic  halls  of  Hever  Castle, 
when  news  still  more  distressing  overwhelmed  her. 
Percy  was  married  to  Lady  Mary  Talbot.  She  wept 
'ong  and  bitterly,  and  vowed  against  the  young  noble- 
man who  had  deserted  h^r  a  contempt  equal  to  her 
iiatred  of  the  cardinal.  Anne  was  reserved  for  a  more 
illustrious,  but  more  unhappy  fate. 

This  event  necessarily  rendered  her  residence  in  this 
country  far  fi-om  attractive  to  Anne  Boleyn.  "  She 
did  not  stay  long  in  England,"  says  Burnet,  following 
(am. Ill ;  ■■  -lie  srrved  Queen  Claude  of  France  till  her 
lUaili,  an.l  all.  i-  that  shc  Avas  taken  into  service  by 
King  Fraiiii^'  >i-ti.r."  Anne  Boleyn,  lady-in-waiting 
to  Mai'L'aivi  ,.|'  \"a1.ii<,  was  consoled  at  last.  She 
iudulgnl  ill  ^ai.  li.'^  \\ith  all  the  vivacity  of  her  age, 
anil  glittiT.ii  am. inn'  the  youngest  and  the  fairest  at 
all  the  court  festivities. 

In  Margaret's  house  she  met  the  most  enlightened 
men  of  the  age,  and  her  understanding  and  heart  were 
developed  simultaneously  with  the  graces.  She  began 
to  read,  without  thoroughly  understanding  it,  the  holy 
book  in  which  her  mistress  (as  Brantome  informs  us) 
found  consolation  and  repose,  and  to  direct  a  few  light 
and  passing  thoughts  to  that  "  mild  Emmanuel,"  to 
whom  Margaret  addressed  such  beautiful  verses. 

At  last  Aune  returned  definitively  to  England.  It 
has  been  asserted  that  the  queen-regent,  fearing  that 
Henry,  after  the  battle  of  Pa\ia,  would  invade  France, 
had  sent  Anne  to  Loudoa  to  dissuade  him  from  it. 


But  it  was  a  stronger  voice  than  hers  which  stopped 
the  King  of  England.  "  Remain  quiet,"  wrote  Charles 
V.  to  him ;  "  I  have  the  stag  in  my  net,  and  we  have 
only  to  think  of  sharing  tiio  spoils."  Margaret  of 
Valois  having  married  tlie  King  of  Navarre  at  the  end 
of  .laniuuy,  l.")27,  and  ((iiilted  Paris  and  her  brother's 
court,  it  is  supiin-.d  ilial  Sir  Thomas  Boleyn,  who  was 
unwilling  thai  lii-  .Jiii'lii.  r  should  take  up  her  abode 
in  the  Pyrem  .  ~,  li  .  all.  .1  li.  r  to  England,  probably  in 
the  winter  or  spriiiL;  ..f  tli.'  same  year.  "There  is  not 
the  least  evidence  that  slic  came  to  it  earlier,"  says  a 
modern  author.  She  appeared  once  more  at  court,  and 
the  niece  of  the  Duke  of  Norfolk  soon  eclipsed  her 
companions,  "by  her  excellent  gesture  and  behaviour," 
as  we  learn  from  a  contemporary  unfriendly  to  the 
Boleyns.  All  the  court  was  struck  by  the  regularity 
of  her  features,  the  expression  of  her  eyes,  the  gentle- 
ness of  her  manners,  and  the  majesty  of  her  carriage. 
"  Siie  was  a  beautiful  creature,"  says  an  old  historian, 
"  well  proportioned,  coiu-teous,  amiable,  very  agreeable, 
and  a  skilful  musician."  | 

"While  entertainments  were  following  close  upon  each  i 
other  at  the  court  of  Heniy  VIH.,  a  strange  rumour 
filled  all  England  with  surprise.  It  was  reported  that 
the  imperialist  soldiers  had  taken  Rome  by  assault,  and 
that  some  Englishmen  were  among  those  who  had 
mounted  the  breach.  One  Thomas  Cromwell  was  speci- 
ally named — the  man  who,  nearly  twenty  years  before, 
had  obtained  certain  indulgences  from  Julius  11.,  by 
offering  him  some  jars  of  English  confectionery.  This 
soldier  carried  with  him  the  New  Testament  of  Erasmus, 
and  he  is  said  to  have  learnt  it  by  heart  during  the  cam- 
paign. Being  gay,  brave,  and  intelligent,  he  enter- 
tained, from  reading  the  Gospel  and  seeing  Rome,  a 
great  aversion  for  the  policy,  superstitions,  and  dis- 
orders, of  the  popedom.  The  day  of  the  7th  May, 
1527,  decided  the  tenor  of  his  life.  To  destroy  the 
papal  power  became  his  dominant  idea.  On  returning 
to  England  he  entered  the  cardinal's  household. 

However,  the  captive  pope  and  cardinals  wrote 
letters  "filled  with  tears  and  groans."  Full  of  zeal  for 
the  papacy,  Wolsey  ordered  a  public  fast.  "The 
emperor  will  never  release  the  pope,  unless  he  be  com- 
pelled," he  told  tlic  king.  "  Sir,  God  has  made  you 
defender  of  the' faith ;  save  the  church  and  its  head!" 
— "My  lord,"  answered  the  king  with  a  smile,  "I 
assure  you  that  this  war  between  the  emperor  and  the 
pope  is  not  for  the  faith,  but  for  temporal  possessions 
and  dominions." 

But  Wolsey  would  not  be  discouraged ;  and,  on  the 
.3rd  of  July,  he  passed  through  the  streets  of  London, 
riding  a  richly  caparisoned  mule,  and  resting  his  feet 
on  gilt  stirrups,  while  twelve  hundred  gentlemen  accom- 
panied him  on  horseback.  He  was  going  to  entreat 
Francis  to  aid  his  master  in  saving  Clement  VII.  He 
had  found  no  difficulty  in  prevailing  upon  Heniy. 
Charles  talked  of  canying  the  pope  to  Spain,  aud  of  per- 
manently establishing  the  apostolic  see  in  that  country. 
Now,  how  could  they  obtain  the  divorce  from  a  Spanish 
pope?  During  the  procession  AVolsey  seemed  oppressed 
with  grief,  and  even  shed  tears ;  but  he  soon  raised  his 
head  and  exclaimed :  "My  heart  is  inflamed,  and  I  wish 
that  it  may  be  said  of  the  pope,  i^er  secula  sempitsma, 

"  Rediit  Henrici  octavi  vittute  sercna."  i 

2u  I 


1! 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


Desirous  of  forming  a  close  tinion  between  France 
and  England  for  the  accomplishment  of  his  designs,  ho 
had  cast  his  eyes  on  the  Princess  Renee,  daughter  of 
Louis  XII.,  and  sister-in-law  to  Francis  I.,  as  the 
future  wife  of  Henry  VIII.  Accordingly,  the  treaty 
of  alliance  between  the  two  crowns  having  been  signed 
at  Amicus,  on  the  18th  of  August,  (1527,)  Francis, 
^vitli  his  mother  and  the  cardinal,  proceeded  to  Com- 
piegne ;  and  there  Wolsey,  styling  Charles  the  most 
obstinate  defender  of  Lutheranism,  promising  "per- 
petual conjunction  on  the  one  hand,  [between  France 
and  England,]  and  perpetual  diy'tniction  on  the  other," 
[between  England  and  Germany,]  demanded  Renee's 
hand  for  King  Henry.  StafHleo,  dean  of  Rota,  affirmed 
that  the  pope  had  been  able  to  permit  the  marriage 
between  Henry  and  Catherine  only  by  an  error  of  the 
keys  of  St.  Peter.  This  avowal,  so  remarkable  on  the 
part  of  the  dean  of  one  of  the  first  jurisdictions  of 
Rome,  induced  Francis'  mother  to  listen  favourably  to 
the  cardinal's  demand.  But  whether  this  proposal  was 
displeasing  to  Renee,  who  was  designed,  on  a  future 
day,  to  profess  the  pure  faith  of  the  Gospel  with  greater 
earnestness  than  Margaret  of  Valois,  or  whether  Francis 
was  not  over-anxious  for  a  union  that  would  have 
given  Henry  rights  over  the  duchy  of  Brittauy,  she 
was  promised  to  the  son  of  the  Duke  of  Ferrara.  It 
was  a  check  to  the  cardinal ;  but  it  was  his  ill  fortune 
to  receive  one  still  more  severe  on  his  return  to 
England. 

The  daughter  of  Sir  Thomas  Boleyn,  (who  had  been 
created  Viscount  Rochford  in  1525.)  was  constantly  at 
court,  "  where  she  flourished  in  great  estimation  and 
favour,"  says  Cavendish,  "  having  always  a  private 
indignation  against  the  cardinal  for  breaking  off  the 
pre-contract  made  between  Lord  Percy  and  her,"  little 
suspecting  that  Heniy  had  had  any  share  in  it.  Her 
beauty,  her  graceful  carriage,  her  black  hair,  oval  face, 
and  bright  eyes,  her  sweet  voice  in  singing,  her  skill 
and  dignity  iu  the  dance,  her  desire  to  please,  which 
was  not  entii'ely  devoid  of  coquetry,  her  sprightliness, 
the  readiness  of  her  repartees,  and  above  all,  the  amia- 
bility of  her  character,  won  every  heart.  She  brought 
to  Greenwich  and  to  London  the  polished  manners  of 
the  court  of  Francis  I.  Every  day  (it  was  reported) 
she  invented  a  new  style  of  dress,  and  set  the  fashion 
in  England.  But  to  all  these  qualities  she  added  mo- 
desty, and  even  imposed  it  on  others  by  her  example. 
The  ladies  of  the  court,  who  had  hitherto  adopted  a 
different  fashion,  (says  her  greatest  enemy,)  covered 
the  neck  and  bosom  as  she  did;  and  the  malicious, 
unable  to  appreciate  Anne's  motives,  ascribed  this  mo- 
desty on  the  young  lady's  part  to  a  desire  to  hide  a 
secret  deformity.  Numerous  admirers  once  more 
crowded  round  Anne  Boleyn ;  and  among  others,  one 
of  the  most  illustrious  noblemen  and  poets  of  England, 
Sir  Thomas  ATyatt,  a  follower  of  AVickliffe.  He,  how- 
over,  was  not  the  man  destined  to  replace  the  son  of 
the  Percies. 

Henry,  absorbed  in  anxiety  .about  his  divorce  from 
Catherine,  had  become  low-spirited  and  melancholy. 
The  laughter,  songs,  repartees,  and  beauty  of  Anne 
Boleyn,  struck  and  captivated  him ;  and  his  eyes  were 
soon  fixed  complacently  on  tlie  young  m.aid  of  honour. 
Catherine  was  more  than  forty  years  old,  and  it  was 


hardly  to  be  expected  that  so  susceptible  a  man  as 
Henry  would  have  made,  as  Job  says,  a  covenant  with 
his  e>/es  not  to  think  upon  a  maid.  Desirous  of  shewing 
his  admiration,  he  presented  Anne,  according  to  usage, 
with  a  costly  jewel ;  she  accepted  and  wore  it,  and 
continued  to  dance,  laugh,  and  chatter,  as  before,  with- 
out attaching  particular  importance  to  the  royal  present. 
Henry's  attentions  became  more  continuous;  and  ho 
took  advantage  of  a  moment  when  he  found  Auue 
alone  to  declare  his  sentiments.  With  mingled  emotion 
and  alarm,  the  young  lady  fell  trembling  at  the  king's 
feet,  and  exclaimed,  bursting  into  tears:  "I  think,  most 
noble  and  worthy  king,  your  majesty  speaks  these 
woi'ds  in  mirth  to  prove  me.  ...  I  will  rather 
lose  my  life  than  my  virtue."  Henry  gracefully  replied, 
that  he  should  at  least  continue  to  hope.  But  Anne, 
rising  up,  jjroudly  made  answer :  "  I  understand  not, 
most  mighty  king,  how  yon  should  retain  any  such 
hope ;  your  wife  I  cannot  be,  both  in  respect  of  mine 
own  unworthiness,  and  also  because  you  have  a  queen 
.already.  Your  mistress  I  will  not  be."  Anne  kept  her 
word.  She  continued  to  shew  the  king,  even  after 
this  interview,  all  the  respect  that  was  due  to  him; 
but  ou  several  occasions  she  proudly,  violently  even, 
repelled  his  advances.  In  this  age  of  gallantry,  we 
find  her  resisting  for  nearly  six  years  all  the  seductions 
Henry  scattered  round  her.  Such  an  example  is  not 
often  met  with  in  the  history  of  courts.  The  books 
she  had  read  in  Margaret's  palace  gave  her  a  secret 
strength.  All  looked  upon  her  with  respect ;  and 
even  the  queen  treated  her  with  politeness.  Catherine 
shewed,  however,  that  she  had  remarked  the  king's 
preference.  One  day,  as  she  was  playing  at  cards 
with  her  maid  of  honour,  while  Heiny  was  in  the 
room,  Anne  frequently  holding  the  /iinff,  she  said : 
"My  Lady  Anne,  you  have  good  hap  to  stop  ever 
at  a  kinr/;  but  you  arc  not  like  others,  you  will  have 
all  or  none."  Anne  blushed :  from  that  moment 
Henry's  attentions  acquired  more  importance ;  she 
resolved  to  withdraw  from  them,  and  quitted  the  court 
with  Lady  Rochford. 

The  king,  who  was  not  accustomed  to  resistance, 
was  extremely  grieved ;  and  having  learnt  that  Anne 
would  not  return  to  the  court,  either  with  or  without 
her  mother,  sent  a  courier  to  Hever,  with  a  message 
and  a  letter  for  her.  If  we  recollect  the  manners  of 
the  age  of  Hemy  VIII.,  and  how  far  the  men,  in  their 
relatious  with  the  gentler  sex,  were  strangers  to  that 
reserve  which  society  now  imposes  upon  them,  we  can- 
not but  be  struck  by  the  king's  respectful  tone.  He 
writes  thus  in  French : — 

"  As  the  time  seems  to  me  very  long  since  I  heard 
from  you,  or  concerning  your  health,  the  great  love  I 
have  for  you  has  constrained  mo  to  send  this  bearer  to 
be  better  informed  both  of  your  health  and  pleasure ; 
p.arficularly  boeansie,  since  my  bT^t  parting  with  you,  I 
have  lirrii'l..!.!  IIiMl  yon  Iia\.'  ciillrrly  rlianged  the  mind 
in  wliirli  1  l.'I'i  \'.iii.  :iiiil  Ihat  vcHi  iiriihcr  mean  to  come 
to  couit  uilh  your  mother  nor  any  other  w.ay;  which 
report,  if  true,  I  cannot  enough  marvel  at,  being  per- 
suaded in  my  own  mind  that  I  have  never  committed 
any  offence  against  you ;  and  it  seems  hard,  iu  return 
for  the  great  love  I  bear  you,  to  be  kept  at  a  distance 


HENRY'S  LETTER  TO  ANNE. 


from  llie  ])orson  niul  presence  of  the  woinim  in  the 
Avoi-Id  that  1  vahie  tlie  most.  And  if  you  love  me  witli 
ns  much  nffection  as  I  hope  you  do,  1  iim  sure  the 
I  distance  of  our  two  pci-sons  would  be  ciiually  irksome 
to  you,  though  this  does  not  belong  so  imieli  to  the 
i     mistress  as  to  the  servant. 

!  "Consider  well,  my  mistress,  how  greatly  your 
I  absence  afflicts  me.  I  hope  it  is  not  your  will  that  it 
should  be  so  ;  but  if  1  heard  for  certain  that  you  your- 
I  self  desired  it,  I  could  but  mourn  my  ill-fortune,  and 
j     strive  by  degrees  to  abate  of  my  great  folly. 

"And  so,  for  lack  of  time,  I  make  an  end  of  this 
rude  letter,  beseeching  you  to  gi\e  the  bearer  credence 
in  all  he  will  fell  you  from  me.  'Writlen  by  the  hand 
of  your  entire  servaut,  II.  K.'" 

The  word  scn-ant  (servitcur)  employed  in  this  letter 
explains  the  sense  iu  which  Henry  used  the  word 
7iiistress.  In  the  language  of  chivalry,  the  laiter  term 
expressed  a  person  to  whom  the  lover  had  surrendered 
his  heart. 

It  would  seem  that  Anne's  reply  to  this  letter  was 
tlie  same  she  had  made  to  the  king  from  the  very  first  ; 
and  Cardinal  Pole  mentions  more  than  once  her  obsti- 
nate refusal  of  an  adulterous  love.  At  last  Henry 
understood  Anne's  virtue  ;  but  he  was  far  from  abatiiu/ 
of/ih  i/nat  J'"/li/,  as  he  had  promised.  That  tyrannical 
sellishness,  wliicli  the  prince  often  displayed  in  his  life, 
was  shewn  particularly  in  his  amours.  Seeing  that  he 
could  not  attain  his  end  by  illegitimate  means,  he 
determined  to  break,  as  quickly  as  possible,  the  bonds 
which  united  him  to  the  queen.  Anne's  vii-tue  was  the 
third  cause  of  Henry's  divorce. 

His  resolution  being  once  taken,  it  must  needs  be 
carried  out.  Heniy  having  succeeded  in  bringing  Anne 
back  to  court,  procured  a  private  interview  with  her, 
offered  her  his  crown,  and  seizing  her  hand,  took  off 
one  of  her  rings.  But  Aiuio,  who  would  not  be  the 
king's  mistress,  refused  al>i,  (,i  1„.  1,1,,  A\itV.  "The  glory 
of  a  crown  could  not  daz/li'  1,.  r."  -ai'l  W'yatt,  aud  two 
motives  iu  particular  couutLibuluuced  all  "the  prospects 
of  greatness  which  were  set  before  her  eyes.  The  first 
wa-s  her  respect  for  the  queen  :  "  How  could  I  injure  a 
princess  of  such  great  virtue?"  she  exclaimed.  The 
second  was  the  fear  that  a  union  -with  "  one  that  was 
her  lord  and  her  king,"  would  not  give  her  that  freedom 
of  lieart  aud  that  liberty  which  she  would  enjoy  by 
marrying  a  man  of  the  same  rank  with  herself. 

Yet  the  noblemen  aud  ladies  of  Heniy's  court  whis- 
pered to  one  another  that  Anne  would  certainly  become 
queen  of  England.  Some  were  tormented  by  jealousy; 
others,  her  friends,  were  delighted  at  the  prospect  of  a 
rapid  advancement.  Wolsey's  enemies,  in  particular, 
were  charmed  at  the  thought  of  ruining  the  favourite. 
It  was  at  the  veiy  moment  when  all  these  emotions 
were  so  variously  agitating  the  court,  that  the  cardinal, 
returnmg  from  his  embassy  to  Francis,  re-appeared  in 
Loudon,  where  an  unexpected  blow  struck  him. 


11(1  elironology  of  Henrj^'s  lettcre  to  Aime 

'  Vatican  Collection,  but  it  appears  to  us 

i  as  written  in  May,  152S ;  we  are  inclined 

llie  originals  of  these  letters,  chiefly  in 

Vatican,  having  been  stolen  from  the 


1  It  is  (liHiiult  tu  lix  t 

BolejTi.    This  i..  Mil 

to  be  of  older  .  1  i 

to  place  it  iuth  ,, 

old  French,  av.  •  i,;  ^  ir 

rojal  cabinet  aud  conveyed  thither. 


"Wolsey  was  expressing  his  grief  to  Heniy  at  having 
failed  in  obtaining  either  Margaret  or  Renee  for  him, 
when  the  king  interrupted  him  :  "  Console  yourself,  I 
shall  marry  Anne  Boleyn."  The  cardinal  remained 
speechless  for  a  moment.  "What  woidd  become  of  him, 
if  the  king  placed  the  crown  of  England  on  the  head  of 
the  daughter  aud  niece  of  his  greatest  enemies?  What 
would  become  of  the  church,  if  a  second  Anne  of 
Bohemia  should  ascend  the  throne  ?  "Wolsey  threw 
himself  at  the  feet  of  his  master,  and  entreated  him  to 
renounce  so  fatal  a  project.  It  was  then,  no  doubt,  that 
he  remained  (as  he  afterwards  said)  an  hottr  or  two  on 
his  kncis  In  I'nn'  (he  king  in  his  privy  chamber,  but 
withoul  ]ii'r\;nllii_r  (jn  Henry  to  give  up  his  design. 
AVolsi  y.  |K  i>ii:iiliil  tliat  if  he  coutiuucd  openly  to  oppose 
Henry's  will,  he  would  for  ever  lose  his  confidence, 
dissembled  his  vexation,  waiting  an  opportunity  to  get 
rid  of  this  unfortunate  rival  by  some  intrigue.  He 
began  by  writiug  to  the  pope,  informing  him  that  a 
young  lady,  brought  up  by  the  (iueen  of  Navarre,  and 
consequently  tainted  by  the  Lutheran  heresy,  had  cap- 
tivated the  king's  heart ;  and  from  that  hour  Anne 
Boleyn  became  the  object  of  the  hatred  and  calumnies 
of  Rome.  But  at  the  same  time,  to  conceal  his  inten- 
tions, AVolsey  received  Henry  at  a  series  of  splendid 
entertainmenis,  at  which  Anne  outshone  all  the  ladies 
of  the  court. 


CHAPTER  Vn. 

Bilney's  Preaching— His  Arrest— Ai-tbur's  Preaching  and  Imprisonment— 
Bilncy's  Examination — Contest  between  the  Judge  and  the  Prisoner — 
Bilney's  weakness  and  Fall— His  Terrors— Two  Wants— Arrival  of  tlia 
Fourth  Edition  of  the  New  Testament— Joy  among  the  Believers. 

"WuiLE  these  passions  were  agitating  Henry's  palace, 
the  most  moving  scenes,  produced  by  Christian  faith, 
were  stirring  the  nation.  Bilney,  animated  by  that 
courage  which  God  sometimes  gives  to  the  weakest 
men,  seemed  to  have  lost  his  natural  timidity,  and 
preached  for  a  time  with  an  energy  quite  apostolic. 
He  taught  that  all  men  should  first  acknowledge  their 
sins  aud  condenm  them,  aud  then  hunger  and  thirst 
after  that  righteousness  which  Jesus  Christ  gives.  To 
this  testimony  borne  to  the  truth,  he  added  his  testi- 
mony against  error.  "  These  five  himdred  years,"  he 
added,  "  there  hath  been  no  good  pope  ;  and  in  all  the 
times  past  we  can  find  but  fifty:  for  they  have  neither 
preached  nor  lived  well,  nor  conformably  to  their 
dignity;  wherefore,  unto  this  day,  they  have  borne  the 
keys  of  simony." 

As  soon  as  he  descended  from  the  pulpit,  this  pious 
scholar,  with  his  friend  Arthur,  visited  the  neighbouring 
towns  aud  villages.  "  The  Jews  and  Saracens  would 
long  ago  have  become  believers,"  he  once  said  at  "Wils- 
dou,  "  had  it  not  been  for  the  idolatry  of  Christian 
men  in  offering  candles,  wax,  and  money,  to  stocks  and 
stones."  One  day  when  he  visited  Ipswich,  where 
there  was  a  Franciscan  convent,  he  exclaimed :  "  The 
cowl  of  St.  Francis  T\Tapped  round  a  dead  body  hath 
no  power  to  take  away  sms.  .  .  .  Ecce  agnus  Dei 
qui  tollit  peccata  mundi,"  (John  i.  29.)    The  poor  monks, 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


■wlio  were  little  versed  iu  Scripture,  had  recourse  to  the 
Almanac  to  couvict  the  Bihie  of  error.  "St.  Paul  did 
rightly  aflirm,"  said  Friar  John  Brusierd,  "  that  there 
is  but  one  mediator  of  God  and  man,  because  as  yet 
there  was  no  saint  canonized  or  put  into  the  calendar." 
— "  Let  us  ask  of  the  Father  iu  the  name  of  the  Son," 
rejoined  Bilucy,  "  and  He  mil  give  imto  us."  "  You 
are  always  sjioakiug  of  the  Father,  and  never  of  the 
saints"  replied  the  friar;  "you  are  like  a  man  who 
has  been  looking  so  long  upon  the  sun  that  he  can  sec 
nothing  else."  As  he  uttered  these  words  the  monk 
seemed  bursting  with  anger.  "  If  I  did  not  know  that 
the  saints  would  take  everlasting  vengeance  upon  you, 
I  would  surely,  with  these  nails  of  mine,  be  your  death." 
Twice,  in  fact,  did  two  monks  pull  him  out  of  his 
pulpit.     He  was  arrested  and  taken  to  London. 

Arthur,  instead  of  fleemg,  began  to  visit  the  flocks 
which  his  friend  had  converted.  "  Good  people,"  said 
he,  "  if  I  should  suffer  persecution  for  the  pi'eaching' 
of  the  Gospel,  there  are  seven  thousand  more  that 
would  preach  it  as  I  do  now.  Therefore,  good  people ! 
good  people!"  (and  he  repeated  these  words  several 
times  in  a  sorrowful  voice,)  "  think  not  that  if  these 
tyrants  and  persecutors  put  a  man  to  death,  the  jireach- 
ing  of  the  Gospel,  therefore,  is  to  be  forsaken.  Every 
Christian  man,  yea,  every  layman,  is  a  priest.  Let  our 
ad\'ersarios  preach  by  the  authority  of  the  cardinal ; 
others  by  the  authority  of  the  university;  others  by  the 
pope's;  we  will  preach  by  the  authority  of  God.  It 
is  not  the  man  who  brings  the  Word  that  saves  the 
soul ;  but  the  Word  which  the  man  brings.  Neither 
bishojjs  nor  popes  have  the  right  to  forbid  any  man 
to  preach  the  Gospel ;  and  if  they  kill  him  he  is  not 
a  heretic,  but  a  martyr."  The  jiriests  were  horrified 
at  such  doctrines.  In  their  opinion  there  was  no  God 
out  of  their  church ;  no  salvation  out  of  their  sacrifices. 
Arthur  was  thrown  into  the  same  prison  as  Bilney. 

On  the  27th  of  November,  1527,  the  cardinal  and 
the  Archbisliop  of  Canterbury,  with  a  great  number 
of  bishops,  di\'ines,  and  lawyers,  met  in  the  chapter- 
house of  Westminster,  when  Bilney  and  Ai-thur  were 
brought  before  them.  But  the  king's  prime  minister 
thought  it  beneath  his  dignity  to  occupy  his  time  with 
miserable  heretics.  Wolsey  had  hardly  commenced  the 
examination,  when  he  rose,  saying :  "  The  affairs  of 
the  realm  call  me  away;  all  such  as  are  found  guilty, 
you  will  compel  them  to  abjure,  and  those  who  rebel 
you  will  deliver  over  to  the  secular  power."  After 
a  few  questions  proposed  by  the  Bishop  of  London, 
the  two  accused  men  were  led  back  to  prison. 

Abjuration  or  death — that  was  Wolsey's  order.  But 
the  conduct  of  the  trial  was  confided  to  Tonstall ;  Bil- 
ney conceived  some  hope.  "  Is  it  possible,"  he  said  to 
himself,  "  that  the  Bishop  of  Loudon,  the  friend  of 
Erasmus,  will  gratify  the  monks  ?  .  .  .  I  must  tell 
him  that  it  was  the  Greek  Testament  of  his  learned 
master  that  led  me  to  the  faith."  Upon  which  the 
humble  evangelist,  having  obtained  paper  and  ink,  set 
about  -wi-iting  to  the  bishop  from  his  gloomy  prison 
those  admu-able  letters  which  have  been  transmitted  to 
posterity.  Tonstall,  who  was  not  a  cruel  man,  was 
deeply  moved,  and  then  a  strange  struggle  took  place  : 
a  judge  wishing  to  save  the  prisoner,  the  prisoner  de- 
siring to  give  up  his  life.     Tonstall,  by  acquitting  Bil- 


ney, had  no  desii-e  to  compromise  himself.  "  Submit 
to  the  church,"  said  the  bishop,  "  for  God  speaks  only 
through  it."  But  Bilney,  who  knew  that  God  speaks 
in  the  Scriptures,  remained  inflexible.  "  Veiy  well, 
then,"  said  Tonstall,  taking  up  the  prisoner's  eloquent 
letters,  "in  di>cliarL'o  of  my  conscience  I  shall  lay  these 
letters  befuiv  ihr  ((Miit."  He  hoped,  perhaps,  that  they 
would  touch  lil>  coU.nniios;  but  he  was  deceived.  He 
determined,  llur.  fdc.  i.i  make  a  ivoAx  atlempt.  On 
the  4th  of  DrrnnlHT.  liiliirv  «:,<  brmrjhl  :rj:,i,i  before 
the  court.  '■  Al.juiv  y..in- riVoiv,-  -li.l  lon.iiill.  Bilney 
refusing  by  a  shake  of  the  head,  the  bishop  cuutiiiued : 
"  Retire  into  the  next  room  and  consider."  Bilney 
withdi-ew,  and  returning  shortly  after  with  joy  beaming 
in  his  eyes,  Tonstall  thought  he  had  gained  the  victory. 
"  You  will  return  to  the  church,  then  ? "  said  he. 
.  .  .  The  doctor  answered  calmly:  '■'•  Fiat judicitwi 
in  nomine  Domini."     "  Be  quick,"  continued  the  bishop, 

"this  is  the  li-i    iii-iil,  and  you  will  be  condemned." 

"//(PC  est  (I       ':  I  Dominus,"  answered  Bilney, 

'■'■  exultenin^  ■(.'"  (Psalm  cxviii.  24.)    Upon 

this  Ton>t:ill  i  1.  <  :;  lii^  cap,  and  said:  "/«  nomine 
Piitris  et  J'r      '  ^    "  '■   Sancti.      .     .     .      Exsm-gat 

Deus  et  di.  ,  -  /  y'ws  .'"  (Ps.  Ixviii.  1.)     Then 

making  thu  m,:;h  uf  ihe  iross  on  his  forehead  and  on  his 
breast,  he  gave  judgment :  "  Thomas  Bilney,  I  pro- 
nouuce  thee  convicted  of  heresy."  He  was  about  to 
name  the  penalty  ...  a  last  hope  restrained  him ; 
he  stopped :  "  For  the  rest  of  the  sentence  we  take  de- 
liberation until  to-morrow."  Thus  was  the  struggle 
prolonged  between  two  men,  one  of  whom  desu'cd  to 
walk  to  the  stake,  the  other  to  bar  the  way  as  it  were 
with  his  own  body. 

"  Will  you  return  to  the  unity  of  the  church '? "  asked 
Tonstall  the  next  day. — "  I  hope  I  was  never  separated 
from  the  Church,"  answered  Bilney.  "  Go  and  co;i- 
sult  with  some  of  your  friends,"  said  the  bishop,  who 
was  resolved  to  save  his  life ;  "  I  mil  give  you  till  one 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon."  In  the  afternoon  Bilney 
made  the  same  answer.  "  I  will  give  you  two  nights ' 
respite  to  deliberate,"  said  the  bishop ;  "  on  Saturday 
at  nine  o'clock  in  the  forenoon,  the  court  will  expect  a 
plain  definitive  answer."  Tonstall  reckoned  on  the 
night  with  its  dreams,  its  anguish,  and  its  terrors,  to 
bring  about  Bilney's  recantation. 

This  extraordinary  struggle  occupied  many  minds 
both  in  court  and  city.  Anne  Boleyn  and  Henry  VIII. 
watched  with  interest  the  various  phases  of  this  tragic 
history.  AYhat  will  happen "?  was  the  general  question. 
Will  he  give  way  ?  Shall  we  see  him  live  or  die  ?  One 
day  and  two  nights  still  remained;  everything  was  tried 
to  shake  the  Cambridge  doctor.  His  friends  crowded 
to  his  prison ;  he  was  overwhelmed  with  arguments  and 
examples ;  but  an  inward  struggle,  far  more  terrible 
than  those  without,  agitated  the  pious  BUney.  Who- 
ever will  save  his  soul  shall  lose  it,  Christ  had  said. 
That  selfish  love  of  his  soid,  which  is  found  even  in  the 
advanced  Christian, — that  self,  which  after  his  conver- 
sion had  been  not  absorbed,  but  overruled  by  the  Spirit 
of  God,  gradually  recovered  strength  in  his  heart,  in 
the  presence  of  disgrace  and  death.  His  friends,  who 
wished  to  save  him,  not  understanding  that  the  fallen 
Bilney  would  be  Bilney  no  longer,  conjured  him  with 
tears  to  have  pity  on  himself;  and  by  these  means  his 


BILNEY'S  FALL— BAYFIELD  ARRESTED. 


661 


firmness  was  overcome.  The  bishop  pressed  him,  and 
Bilney  asked  himself :  "  Can  a  young  sohlier  like  me 
know  the  rules  of  war  better  than  an  old  soldier  like 
Tonstall?  Or  can  a  poor  silly  sheep  know  his  way 
to  the  fold  better  thau  the  chief  pastor  of  Loudon  .' " 
His  friends  quitted  him  neither  niglit  nor  day;  and  en- 
tangled by  their  fatal  affection,  he  believed  at  last  that 
ho  liad  found  a  compromise  which  would  set  his  con- 
science at  rest.  "I  will  preserve  my  life,"  he  said, 
"  to  dedicate  it  to  the  Lord."  This  delusion  had  scarcely 
laid  hold  of  his  mind  before  his  views  were  confused, 
his  faith  was  veiled,  the  Holy  Ghost  departed  from 
him,  God  gave  him  over  to  his  carnal  thoughts,  and 
under  the  pretext  of  being  useful  to  Jesus  Christ  for 
many  years,  Bilney  disobeyed  Ilim  at  the  present 
moment.  Being  led  before  the  bishops  on  the  morning 
of  Saturday,  the  7th  of  December,  at  nine  o'clock,  he 
foil,  .  .  .  (Arthur  had  fallen  before  him;)  aud 
whilst  the  false  fricuds  who  had  misled  him  hardly 
dared  raise  their  eyes,  the  living  Church  of  Christ  in 
England  uttered  a  ciy  of  anguish.  "  If  ever  you  come 
in  danger,"  said  Latimer,  "  for  God's  quarrel,  I  woidd 
advise  you,  above  all  things,  to  abjure  all  your  friend- 
ships ;  leave  not  one  unabjured.  It  i^  they  that  shall 
undo  you,  and  not  your  enemies.  It  was  his  very 
friends  that  brought  Bilney  to  it." 

On  the  following  day  (Sunday,  8th  December)  Bilney 
was  placed  at  the  head  of  a  procession;  and  the  fallen 
disciple,  bareheaded,  with  a  fagot  on  his  shoulders, 
stood  in  front  of  St.  Paid's  cross,  while  a  priest  from 
the  pulpit  exhorted  him  to  repentance ;  after  which  he 
was  led  back  to  prison. 

What  a  solitude  for  the  wretched  man!  At  one 
time  the  cold  darkness  of  his  cell  appeared  to  him  as  a 
burning  fire  ;  at  another,  he  fancied  he  heard  accusing 
voices  crying  to  him  in  the  silence  of  the  night.  Death, 
the  very  enemy  he  had  wished  to  avoid,  lixed  his  icy 
glance  upon  him  and  filled  him  with  fear.  He  strove 
to  escape  from  the  horrible  spectre,  but  in  vain.  Then 
the  friends  who  had  dragged  him  into  this  abyss,  crowded 
round  and  endeavoured  to  console  him;  but  if  they 
gave  utterance  to  any  of  Christ's  gentle  promises, 
Bilney  started  back  with  affright,  and  shrank  to  the 
farthest  part  of  the  dungeon,  with  a  ciy  "  as  though  a 
man  had  run  him  through  the  heart  with  a  sword." 
Having  denied  the  Word  of  God,  he  could  no  longer 
endure  to  hear  it.  The  curse  of  the  Apocalypse:  Ye 
moiiittaiiis,  likle  me  from  the  trrath  of  the  Lamb !  was  the 
only  passage  of  Scripture  in  harmony  with  his  soul. 
His  mind  wandered,  the  blood  froze  in  his  veins,  ho 
sank  imder  his  terrors ;  he  lost  all  sense,  aud  almost 
his  life,  and  lay  motionless  iu  the  arms  of  his  astonished 
friends.  "  God,"  exclaimed  those  vmhappy  individuals 
who  had  caused  his  fall, — "  God,  by  a  just  judgment, 
delivers  up  to  the  tempests  of  their  conscience  all  who 
deny  His  truth." 

This  was  not  the  only  sorrow  of  the  Church.  As 
soon  as  Richard  Bayfield,  the  late  chamberlain  of  Bury, 
had  joined  Tyndale  and  Fryth,  he  said  to  them:  "I  am 
at  your  disposal ;  you  shall  bo  my  head,  and  I  will  be 
yom-  hand;  I  will  sell  your  books  and  those  of  the 
German  reformers,  in  the  Low  Coimtries,  France,  and 
England."  It  was  not  long,  indeed,  before  he  returned 
to  London.     But  Piersou,  he  tpriest  whom  he  had 


formerly  met  in  Lombard  Street,  found  him  again,  and 
accused  him  to  the  bishop.  The  unhappy  man  was 
brought  before  Tonstall.  "  You  are  charged,"  said  the 
prelate,  "  with  having  asserted  that  praise  is  due  to 
God  alone,  and  not  to  saints  or  creatures."  Bayfield 
acknowledged  the  charge  to  be  true.  "  You  are  accused 
of  maintaining  that  evciy  priest  may  preach  the  AYord 
of  God  by  the  authority  of  the  Gospel,  without  the 
license  of  the  pope  or  cardinals."  This  also  Bayfield 
acknowledged.  A  penance  was  imposed  on  him  ;  and 
then  he  was  sent  back  to  his  monasteiy  with  orders  to 
shew  himself  there  on  the  25th  of  April.  But  he  crossed 
the  sea  once  more,  and  hastened  to  join  Tyndale. 

The  New  Testaments,  however,  sold  by  him  and 
others  remained  iu  England.  At  th.at  time  the  bishops 
subscribed  to  suppress  the  Scriptures,  as  so  many  persons 
have  since  done  to  circulate  them  ;  and,  accordingly,  a 
great  number  of  the  copies  brought  over  by  Bayfield 
and  his  friends  wore  bought  up.  A  scarcity  of  food 
was  erelong  added  to  the  scarcity  of  the  Word  of  God; 
for,  as  the  cardinal  was  endeavouring  to  foment  a  war 
between  Henry  and  the  emperor,  the  Flemish  ships 
ceased  to  enter  the  English  ports.  It  was  in  consequence 
of  this  that  the  Lord  Mayor  and  Aldermen  of  London 
hastened  to  express  their  apprehensions  to  Wolsey 
almost  before  he  had  recovered  from  the  fatigues  of  his 
return  from  France.  "  Fear  nothuig,"  he  told  them ; 
"  the  King  of  France  assured  me,  that  if  he  had  three 
bushels  of  wheat,  England  should  have  two  of  them." 
But  none  an'ived,  and  the  people  were  on  the  point  of 
breaking  out  into  violence,  when  a  fleet  of  ships 
suddenly  appeared  off  the  mouth  of  the  Thames.  They 
were  German  and  Flemish  vessels  laden  with  corn,  in 
which  the  worthy  people  of  the  Low  Countries  had 
also  concealed  the  New  Testament.  An  Antwerp 
bookseller,  named  John  Raimond  or  Ruremond,  from 
his  birthplace,  had  printed  a  fourth  edition,  more  beau- 
tiful than  the  previous  ones.  It  was  enriched  with 
references  and  engravings  on  wood,  and  each  page 
bordered  with  red  lines.  Raimond  himself  had  em- 
barked on  board  one  of  the  ships  with  five  hundred 
copies  of  his  New  Testament.    About  Christmas,  1527, 


MPTON     COURT. 


HISTORY  OP  THE  REFORMATION. 


the  Book  of  God  was  circulated  iu  England  along  with 
the  bread  that  noiu-ishes  the  body.  But  certain  priests 
and  monks  having  discovered  the  Scriptures  among  the 
sacks  of  corn,  they  carried  several  copies  to  the  Bishop 
of  London,  who  threw  Eaimond  into  prison.  The 
greater  jjart,  however,  of  the  new  edition  escaped  him. 
The  New  Testament  was  read  everywhere,  and  even 
the  court  did  not  escape  the  contagion.  Anne  Boleyn, 
notwithstanding  her  smiling  face,  often  withdrew  to 
her  closet  at  Greenwich  or  at  Hampton  Court,  to  study 
the  Gospel.  Frank,  courageous,  and  proud,  she  did 
not  conceal  the  pleasure  she  found  in  such  reading ;  her 
boldness  astonished  the  courtiers,  and  exasperated  the 
clergy.  In  the  city  things  went  still  farther :  the  New 
Testament  was  explained  in  frequent  conventicles,  par- 
ticularly in  the  house  of  one  Russell;  and  great  was  the 
joy  among  the  faithful.  "  It  is  sufficient  only  to  enter 
London,"  said  the  priests,  '■  to  become  a  heretic !"  The 
Eefonnation  was  taking  root  among  the  people  before 
it  arrived  at  the  upper  classes. 


CIIAPTEIl  VIIL 

The  Papacy  ;nteiceiit.s  Uic  (iospel— The  Kins  consults  Sir  TLomas  More— 
E  clesiastical  Conferences  about  the  Divorce— The  Universities— Clark 
—The  Nun  of  Kent— Wolsey  Decides  to  do  the  King's  Will— Mission  to 
t)ie  Pope— Four  Documents— Embarrassment  of  Charles  V.— Francis 
Philip  at  JIadril— Distress  and  Resolution  of  Charles — He  turns  away 
from  the  Reformation— Conference  at  the  Castle  of  St.  Angelo-Kuight 
Arrives  in  Italy— His  Flight-Treaty  between  the  Pope  and  the  Eni- 
pii  or— Escape  of  the  Pope— Confusion  of  Henry  VIII.— Wolsey's  Orders 
-His  Entreaties. 

The  sun  of  the  "Word  of  God,  which  daily  gi-ew  brighter 
in  the  sky  of  the  sixteenth  centuiy,  was  sufficient  to 
scatter  all  the  darkness  in  England ;  but  Popery,  like 
au  immeuse  wall,  intercepted  its  rays.  Britain  had 
hardly  received  the  Scriptures  in  Greek  and  Latin, 
and  then  in  English,  before  the  priests  began  to  make 
war  upon  thein  with  indefatigable  zeal.  It  was  ne- 
cessary that  the  wall  should  be  thrown  down  in  order 
that  the  sun  miglit  penetrate  freely  among  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  people.  And  now  events  were  ripening  iu 
England,  destined  to  make  a  great  breach  in  Popery. 
The  negotiations  of  Heni-y  VIIL  with  Clement  VIL, 
play  an  important  part  in  the  Reformation.  By  shew- 
ing up  the  court  of  Rome,  they  destroyed  the  respect 
ivhich  the  people  felt  for  it ;  they  took  away  that  iwwer 
and  strength,  as  Scripture  says,  which  the  monarchy 
had  given  it ;  and  the  throne  of  the  pope  once  fallen 
iu_  England,  Jesus  Christ  uplifted  and  strengthened 
His  own. 

Henry,  ardently  desu-ing  an  heir,  and  thinking  that 
he  had  found  the  woman  that  would  ensure  his  own 
and  England's  happiness,  conceived  the  design  of  sever- 
ing the  ties  that  united  him  to  the  queen;  and  with 
this  view  he  consulted  his  most  favourite  councillors 
about  the  divorce.  There  was  one  in  particular  whose 
approval  he  coveted:  this  was  Sir  Thomas  More. 
One  day,  as  Erasmus's  friend  was  walking  with  his 
master  in   the  beautiful  gallery  at  Hampton  Court, 


giving  him  au  account  of  a  mission  he  had  just  exe- 
cuted on  the  Continent,  the  king  suddenly  interrupted 
him  :  "My  marriage  with  the  queen,"  he  said,  "is  con- 
trary to  the  laws  of  God,  of  the  church,  and  of  nature." 
He  then  took  up  the  Bible,  and  pointed  out  the  passages 
iu  his  favour.  "  I  am  not  a  theologian,"  said  More, 
somewhat  embarrassed ;  "  your  majesty  shoidd  consult 
a  council  of  doctors." 

Accordingly,  by  Henry's  order,  AVarham  assembled 
the  most  learned  canonists  at  Hampton  Court ;  but 
weeks  passed  away  before  they  could  agree.  Most  of 
them  quoted  in  the  king's  favour  those  paisages  in 
Leviticus  (xviii.  16;  xx.  21)  which  forbid  a  man  to 
take  Ids  brother's  wife.  But  Fisher,  bishop  of  Roches- 
ter, and  the  other  opponents  of  the  divorce,  replied, 
that  according  to  Deutoronmy,  (xxv.  5,)  when  a 
woman  is  left  a  widow  without  children,  her  brother- 
iu-law  ought  to  take  her  to  wife,  to  perpetuate  his 
brother's  name  in  Israel.  "This  law  concerned  the 
Jews  only,"  replied  the  partisans  of  the  divorce ;  they 
added,  that  its  object  was  "to  maintain  the  inheritances 
distinct,  and  the  genealogies  intact,  imtU  the  coming 
of  Christ.  The  Judaical  dispensation  has  passed  away ; 
but  the  law  of  Leviticus,  which  is  a  moral  law,  is  bind- 
ing upon  all  men  in  all  ages." 

To  free  themselves  from  their  embarrassment,  the 
bishops  demanded  that  the  most  eminent  universities 
should  be  consulted  ;  and  commissioners  were  forthwith 
despatched  to  Oxford,  Cambridge,  Paris,  Orleans,  Tou- 
louse, Louvain,  Padua,  and  Bologna,  furnished  with 
money  to  reward  the  foreign  doctors  for  tlie  time  and 
trouble  this  question  would  cost  them.  This  caused 
some  little  delay,  and  eveiy  means  was  now  to  be  tried 
to  divert  the  king  from  his  pui-pose. 

Wolsey,  who  was  the  first  to  suggest  the  idea  of  a 
divorce,  was  now  thoroughly  alarmed.  It  appeared  to 
him  that  a  nod  from  the  dauglitcr  of  the  Boleyns  would 
hurl  him  from  the  post  he  had  so  laboriously  won,  and 
this  made  him  vent  his  ill-humour  on  all  about  him,  at 
one  time  tlireatening  Warham,  and  at  another  perse- 
cuting Pace.  But  fearing  to  oppose  Henry  openly,  he 
summoned  from  Paris,  Clarke,  bishop  of  Bath  and 
Wells,  at  that  time  ambassador  to  the  French  court. 
The  latter  entered  into  his  views,  and  after  cautiously 
preparing  the  way,  he  ventured  to  say  to  the  king : 
"  The  progress  of  the  inquiry  will  be  so  slow,  your 
majesty,  that  it  will  take  more  than  seven  years  to 
briiig  it  to  an  end !  " — "  Since  my  patience  has  already 
held  out  for  eighteen  years,"  the  king  replied  coldly,  "I 
am  willing  to  vnxitfour  or  Jive  more." 

As  the  political  party  had  failed,  the  clerical  party 
set  iu  motion  a  scheme  of  another  kind.  A  young 
woman,  Elizabeth  Bai-ton,  known  as  the  holy  maid  of 
Kent,  had  been  subject  from  childhood  to  epUeptic  fits. 
The  priest  of  her  parish,  named  Masters,  had  persuaded 
her  that  she  was  inspired  of  God,  and  confederating 
with  one  Bocking,  a  monk  of  Canterbury,  he  turned 
the  weakness  of  the  prophetess  to  account.  Elizabeth 
wandered  over  the  country,  passing  from  house  to 
house,  and  from  convent  to  convent ;  on  a  sudden  her 
limbs  would  become  rigid,  her  features  distorted; 
violent  convulsions  shook  her  body,  and  strange  unin- 
telligible sounds  fell  from  her  lips,  which  the  amazed 
by-standers  received  as  revelations  from  the  Virgin  and 


FOUR  DOCUMENTS  REQUIRED  OF  THE  POPE. 


6G3 


tlic  saints.  Fislior,  bishop  of  Roclicster,  Abel,  the 
queen's  ecclesiastical  agent,  and  even  Sir  Thomas  More, 
were  among  the  number  of  Elizabeth's  partisans. 
Kumours  of  the  divorce  having  reached  the  saint's  ears, 
an  angel  commanded  her  to  ai)pcar  before  the  cardinal. 
As  soou  as  she  stood  iu  his  presence  the  colour  fled 
from  her  checks,  her  limbs  trembled,  and  falling  into 
aa  ecstaey,  she  exclaimed:  "Cardinal  of  York,  God 
has  placed  three  swords  iu  your  hand :  the  spiritual 
sword,  to  range  the  church  luider  the  authority  of  the 
pope ;  the  civil  sword,  to  govern  the  realm ;  and  the 
sword  of  justice,  to  prevent  the  divorce  of  the  king. 
.  .  .  .  If  you  do  not  wield  these  three  swords 
faithfully,  God  will  lay  it  sore  to  your  charge."  After 
these  words  tlie  ])ri)photi>ss  witlidrew. 

But  other  inllueni'os  wore  then  dividing  "Wolsey's 
breast :  hatred,  which  induced  him  to  oppose  the 
divorce  ;  and  ambition,  which  forobodeil  liis  ruin  in  this 
opposition.  At  last  ambition  prevailfd,  and  he  resolved 
to  make  his  objections  forgutteu  by  the  energy  of  his 
zeal. 

Henry  hastened  to  profit  by  this  change.  "  Declare 
the  divorce  yourself,"  said  he  to  AVolsey ;  "  has  not  the 
pope  named  you  his  vicar-general  ? " '  The  cardinal 
\vas  not  anxious  to  raise  himself  so  high.  "  If  I  were 
to  decide  the  affair,"  said  he,  "  the  queen  would  appeal 
to  the  pope;  we  must  therefore  either  apply  to  the 
holy  father  for  special  powers,  or  persuade  the  queen 
to  retire  to  a  uuimery.  And  if  we  fail  in  either  of 
tiicse  expedients,  we  will  obey  the  voice  of  conscience, 
even  in  despite  of  the  pope."  It  was  arranged  to  begin 
with  the  more  regular  attempt,  and  Gregory  Da  Casale, 
secretary  Knight,  and  tlie  prothonotary  Gambara,  were 
appointed  to  au  extraordinaiy  mission  at  the  pontifical 
court.  Casale  was  Wolsey's  man,  and  Knight  was 
Henry's.  AVolsey  told  the  envoys  :  "  You  will  demand 
of  the  pope,  Istli/,  a  commission  authorizing  me  to  inquire 
intt)  this  matter;  2ridli/,  his  promise  to  pronounce  the 
nullity  of  Catherine's  marriage  with  Henry,  if  we 
shoidd  find  that  her  marriage  with  Ai-thur  was  con- 
summated ;  and  SnUi/,  a  dispensation  permitting  the 
king  to  marry  again."  In  this  manner  AVolsey  hoped 
to  make  sure  of  the  divorce  without  damaging  the 
papal  authority.  It  was  insinuated  that  false  repre- 
sentations, with  regard  to  the  consummation  of  the 
first  marriage,  had  been  sent  from  England  to  Julius 
1 1.,  which  had  induced  the  pontiff  to  permit  the  second. 
The  pope  being  deceived  as  to  the  fact,  his  infallibility 
was  untouched.  Wolsey  desired  something  more ; 
knowing  that  no  confidence  could  be  put  in  the  good 
faith  of  the  pontiff,  he  demanded  a  fourth  instrument, 
by  which  the  pope  should  bind  himself  necer  to  recall 
the  other  thret ;  he  only  forgot  to  take  precautions  in 
case  Clement  should  withdraw  the  fourth.  "  With 
these  four  snares,  skilfully  combined,"  said  the  cardinal, 
"  I  shall  catch  the  hare ;  if  he  escapes  from  one,  he 
will  fall  into  the  other."  The  courtiers  anticipated  a 
speedy  termination  of  the  affair.  Was  not  the  emperor 
the  declared  enemy  of  the  pontiff  ?  Had  not  Heniy, 
on  the  contraiy,  made  himself  protector  of  the  Clemen- 

1  When  Napoleon,  from  similar  motives,  desired  to  separate  from  Jose- 
pliiuc,  fearing  the  unwillingness  of  the  pope,  (as  Henry  did,)  he  entertained, 
lilic  him,  the  design  of  doing  without  the  pontiff,  and  of  getting  his  marriage 
annulled  by  the  French  bishops.    As  he  was  more  powerAU,  he  sueeeeded. 


tine  leafjiie  ?  Coidd  Clement  hesitate,  when  called 
upon,  to  choose  between  his  jailor  and  his  benefactor? 
Indeed,  Charles  V.,  at  this  moment,  was  in  a  very  em- 
barrassing position.  It  is  true,  his  guards  were  posted 
at  the  gates  of  the  castle  of  St.  Angelo,  where  Clement 
was  a  prisoner,  and  people  in  Komo  said  to  one  another 
with  a  smile:  "Now  indeed  it  is  true.  Papa  non potest 
errare."  '  But  it  was  not  possible  to  keep  the  pope 
a  prisoner  in  Rome ;  and  then,  what  was  to  be  done 
with  him?  The  viceroy  of  Naples  proposed  to  Alercon, 
the  governor  of  St.  Angelo,  to  remove  Clement  to 
Gaeta ;  but  the  affrighted  colonel  exclaimed :  "  Heaven 
forbid  that  I  should  drag  after  me  the  very  body  of 
God  ! "  Charles  thought  one  time  of  transporting  the 
pontiff  to  Si)ain ;  but  might  not  an  enemy's  fleet  carry 
him  off  on  the  road?  The  ])ope  iu  prison  was  far  more 
embarrassing  to  Charles  than  the  pope  at  liberty. 

It  was  at  this  critical  time  that  Francis  Philip,  Queen 
Catherine's  servant,  having  escaped  the  snares  laid  by 
Ileniy  VUI.  and  AVolsey,  arrived  at  Jladrid,  where  he 
passed  a  whole  day  iu  conference  with  Charles  V. 
This  prince  was  at  first  astonished,  shocked  even,  by 
the  designs  of  the  King  of  England.  The  curse  of 
God  seemed  to  hang  over  his  house.  His  mother  was 
a  lunatic ;  his  sister  of  Denmark  expelled  from  her 
dominions ;  his  sister  of  Hungary  made  a  widow  by 
the  battle  of  Mohacz ;  the  Turks  were  encroaching 
upon  his  territories ;  Lautrec  was  victorious  in  Italy ; 
and  the  catholics,  ii-ritated  by  the  pope's  captivity, 
detested  his  ambition.  This  was  not  enough.  Henry 
VHI.  was  striving  to  divorce  his  aunt,  and  the  pope 
would  natui-ally  give  his  aid  to  this  criminal  design. 
Charles  must  choose  between  the  pontiff  and  the  king. 
The  friendship  of  the  King  of  England  might  aid  him 
in  breaking  the  league  formed  to  expel  him  from  Italy, 
and  by  sacrificing  Catherine  he  would  be  sure  to  obtain 
his  support ;  but  placed  between  reasons  of  state  and 
his  aunt's  honour,  the  emperor  did  not  hesitate ;  he 
even  renounced  certain  projects  of  reform  that  he  had 
at  heart.  He  suddenly  decided  for  the  pope,  and  from 
that  very  hour  followed  a  new  course. 

Charles,  who  possessed  gi-eat  discernment,  had  under- 
stood his  age ;  he  had  seen  that  concessions  were  called 
for  by  the  movement  of  the  human  mind,  and  would 
have  desii-ed  to  carry  out  the  change  from  the  Sliddle 
Ages  to  modern  times  by  a  carefully  managed  transition. 
He  had  consequently  demanded  a  council  to  reform  the 
church  and  weaken  the  Komish  dominion  in  Europe. 
But  very  different  was  the  result.  If  Charles  turned 
away  from  Henry,  he  was  obliged  to  tm-u  towards 
Clement ;  and  after  having  compelled  the  head  of  the 
church  to  enter  a  prison,  it  was  necessaiy  to  place  him 
once  more  upon  the  throne.  Charles  V.  sacrificed  the 
interests  of  Christian  society  to  the  interests  of  his  own 
family.  This  divorce,  which  iu  England  has  been 
looked  upon  as  the  ruiu  of  the  popedom,  was  what 
saved  it  in  continental  Europe. 

But  how  could  the  cmi)eror  win  the  heart  of  the 
pontiff,  filled  as  it  was  with  bitterness  and  anger?  He 
selected  for  this  difficult  mission  a  friar  of  great  ability, 
De  Angelis,  general  of  the  Spanish  Observance,  and 
ordered  liiui  to  j)roceed  to  the  castle  of  St.  Angelo 
under  the  pretext  of  negotiating  the  liberation  of  the 

!  The  pope  cannot  eiT,— a  play  upon  the  double  meaning  of  the  word  ermrf. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


holy  father.  The  cordelier  was  conducted  to  the 
strongest  part  of  the  fortress,  called  the  Rock,  where 
Clemcut  was  lodged ;  and  the  two  priests  brought  all 
their  craft  to  bear  on  each  other.  The  monk,  assisted 
by  the  artful  Moncade,  adroitly  mingled  together  the 
pope's  deliverance  and  Catherine's  marriage.  He 
affirmed  that  the  emperor  wished  to  open  the  gates  of 
tlic  pontiff's  prison,  and  had  already  given  tlie  order ; 
and  then  he  added  immediately:  "The  emperor  is 
determined  to  maintain  the  rights  of  his  aunt,  and  will 
never  consent  to  the  divorce." — "If  you  are  a  good 
shepherd  to  me,"  wrote  Charles  to  the  pope  with  his 
own  hand  on  the  22nd  of  November,  "  I  will  be  a  good 
sheep  to  you."  Clement  smiled  as  he  read  these  words; 
he  understood  his  position ;  the  emperor  had  need  of 
the  priest ;  Charles  was  at  his  captive's  feet ;  Clement 
was  saved !  The  divorce  was  a  rope  fallen  from  the 
skies  which  could  not  fail  to  drag  him  out  of  the  pit ; 
he  had  only  to  cling  to  it  quietly  in  order  to  reascend 
his  throne.  Accordingly,  from  that  hour  Clement 
appeared  less  eager  to  quit  the  castle  than  Charles  to 
liberate  him.  "  So  long  as  tlie  divorce  is  in  suspense," 
thought  the  crafty  De'  Medici,  "I  have  two  great 
friends ;  but  as  soon  as  I  declare  for  one,  I  shall  have 
a  mortal  enemy  in  the  other."  He  promised  the  monk 
to  come  to  no  decision  in  the  matter  without  informing 
the  emperor. 


SIR     THOMAS     MORE. 

Meantime  Knight,  the  envoy  of  the  impatient  mon- 
arch, having  heard,  as  he  crossed  the  Alps,  that  the 
pope  was  at  liberty,  hastened  on  to  Parma,  where  he 
met  Gambara :  "  He  is  not  free  yet,"  replied  the  pro- 
thonotary;  "but  the  general  of  the  Franciscans  hopes 
to  terminate  his  captivity  in  a  few  days.  Continue 
your  journey,"  he  added.  Knight  could  not  do  so 
without  great  danger.  He  was  told  at  Foligno,  sixty 
miles  from  the  metropolis,  that  if  he  had  not  a  safe- 
conduct  he  could  not  reach  Rome  without  exposing  his 


life;  Knight  halted.  Just  then  a  messenger  from 
Ileniy  brought  him  despatches  more  pressing  than 
ever ;  Knight  started  again  with  one  servant  and  a 
guide.  At  Monte  Rotondo  he  was  nearly  murdered 
by  the  inhabitants ;  but  on  the  next  day,  (25th  Novem- 
ber,) protected  by  a  violent  storm  of  wind  and  rain, 
Heniy's  envoy  entered  Rome  at  ten  o'clock  witliout 
being  observed,  and  kept  himself  concealed. 

It  was  impossible  to  speak  with  Clement,  for  the 
emperor's  orders  were  positive.  Knight,  therefore, 
began  to  j'^'O-Ctise  upon  the  cardinals ;  he  gained  over 
the  Cardinal  of  Pisa,  by  whose  means  his  despatches 
were  laid  before  the  pontiff.  Clement,  after  reading 
them,  laid  them  down  with  a  smile  of  satisfaction. 
"  Good ! "  said  he,  "  here  is  the  other  coming  to  me 
now!"  But  night  had  hardly  closed  in  before  the 
Cardinal  of  Pisa's  secretary  hastened  to  Knight  and 
told  him  :  "  Don  Alercon  is  informed  of  your  arrival ; 
and  the  pope  entreats  you  to  dejjart  immediately." 
This  ofllccr  had  scai-oely  left  him,  when  the  protho- 
notary  Gambara  arrived  in  great  agitation:  "His  holi- 
ness presses  you  to  leave ;  as  soon  as  he  is  at  liberty, 
he  will  attend  to  your  master's  request."  Two  hours 
after  this,  two  hundred  Spanish  soldiers  an-ived,  sur- 
rounded the  house  in  wliich  Knight  had  concealed 
himself,  and  searched  it  from  top  to  bottom,  but  to 
no  purpose ;  the  English  agent  had  escaped. 

Knight's  safety  was  not  the  true  motive  which  in- 
duced Clement  to  urge  his  departure.  The  ycry  day 
on  which  the  pope  received  the  message  from  the  King 
of  England,  he  signed  a  treaty  with  Charles  V.,  restor- 
ing him,  under  certain  conditions,  to  both  his  powers. 
At  the  same  time  the  pontiff,  for  greater  security, 
pressed  the  French  general  Lautrec,  to  hasten  his 
march  to  Rome,  in  order  to  save  him  from  the  hands 
of  the  emperor.  Clement,  a  disciple  of  Machiavelli, 
tluis  gave  the  right  hand  to  Charles,  and  the  left  to 
Francis ;  and  as  he  had  ilot  another  for  Henry,'  he 
made  liim  the  most  positive  promises.  Each  of  the 
tlu'ce  princes  could  reckon  on  the  pope's  friendship, 
and  on  the  same  grounds. 

Tlie  10th  of  December  (1527)  was  the  day  on  whicli 
Clement's  imprisonment  would  terminate  ;  but  he  pre- 
ferred owing  his  freedom  to  intrigue  rather  than  to 
the  emperor's  generosity.  He  therefore  procured  the 
dress  of  a  tradesman,  and,  on  the  evening  before  the 
day  fixed  for  his  deliverance,  his  ward  being  already 
much  relaxed,  he  escaped  from  the  castle,  and,  accom- 
panied only  by  Louis  of  Gonzago  in  his  flight,  he  made 
his  way  to  Orvioto. 

AVhile  Clement  was  expsrieucing  all  the  joy  of  a 
man  just  escaped  from  prison,  Henry  was  a  prey  to 
the  most  violent  agitation.  Having  ceased  to  love 
Catherine,  he  persuaded  himself  that  he  was  the  victim 
of  his  father's  ambition,  a  martyr  to  duty,  and  the 
champion  of  conjugal  sanctity.  His  very  gait  betrayed 
his  vexation ;  and  even  among  the  gay  conversation 
of  the  court,  deep  sighs  would  escape  from  his  bosom. 
Ho  had  frequent  interviews  with  Wolsoy.  "  I  regard 
the  safety  of  my  soul  above  aU  things,"  he  said ;  "  but 
I  am  concerned  also  for  the  peace  of  my  kingdom. 
For  a  long  while  an  unceasing  remorse  has  been  gnaw- 
ing at  my  conscience,  and  my  thoughts  dwell  upon  my 
marriage  with  unutterable  sorrow.    God,  in  His  wrath, 


WOLSEY'S  OKDERS  AND  ENTREATIES. 


has  taken  away  my  sons ;  nnil  if  I  persevere  in  this 
unlaivt'iil  uiiidii,  lie  will  visit  mo  with  still  more  ter- 
ril)lr  cliastiscnionts.  JMy  only  liopo  is  in  the  holy 
fatliir."  '\\'oLs('y  replied  with  a  low  bow:  "Please 
yonr  majesty,  I  am  occupied  with  this  business  as  if 
it  were  my  only  means  of  winning  heaven." 

And  indeed  he  redoubled  his  exertions.  He  wrote 
to  Sir  Grejiory  Da  Casale  on  the  5th  of  December 
(1527):  "You  will  procure  an  audience  of  the  pope 
at  any  price.  Disguise  yourself,  appear  before  him 
as  the  servant  of  some  nobleman,  or  as  a  messenger 
from  the  Duke  of  Ferrara.  Scatter  money  plentifully; 
sacrifice  everything,  provided  you  procure  a  secret 
interview  with  his  holiness :  ten  thousand  ducats  arc 
at  your  disposal.  Y'ou  will  explain  to  Clement  the 
king's  scrujiles,  and  the  necessity  of  providing  for  the 
continuance  of  his  house  and  the  peace  of  his  kingdom. 
Y^ou  will  tell  him,  that  in  order  to  restore  him  to  liberty, 
the  king  is  ready  to  declare  war  against  the  emperor, 
and  thus  shew  himself  to  all  the  world  to  be  a  true 
son  of  Ihc  cliurch." 

Wdlsey  saw  clearly  that  it  was  essential  to  represent 
tlic  divorce  to  Clement  VII.  as  a  means  likely  to  secure 
the  safety  of  the  poi)cdom.  The  cardinal,  therefore,  wrote 
again  to  Da  Casale  on  the  6th  of  December :  "  Night 
and  day  I  revolve  in  my  mind  the  actual  condition  of 
the  church,  and  seek  the  means  best  calculated  to  ex- 
tricate the  pope  from  the  gulf  into  which  he  has  fallen. 
AVhilc  I  was  tvn-ning  these  thoughts  over  in  my  mind 
during  a  sleepless  night,  .  .  .  one  way  suddenly 
occurred  to  me.  I  said  to  myself,  the  king  must  be 
prevailed  upon  to  undertake  the  defence  of  the  holy 
father.  This  was  no  easy  matter,  for  his  majesty  is 
strongly  attached  to  the  emperor;  however,  I  set  about 
my  task.  I  told  the  king  that  his  holiness  was  ready 
to  satisfy  him;  I  staked  my  honour;  I  succeedetl. 
.  .  •  To  save  the  pope,  my  master  will  sacrifice  his 
treasures,  subjects,  kingdom,  and  even  his  life.  .  .  . 
I  therefore  conjure  his  hoUness  to  entertain  our  just 
demand." 

Never  before  had  such  pressing  entreaties  been  made 
to  a  pope. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

The  English  Envoys  at  Orvicto— Tlieir  Oration  to  the  Pope— Clement  gains 
Time— Tlie  Envoys  and  Cardinal  Sanetorum  Quatuor— Stratagem  of  the 
Pope— Knight  discovers  it  and  Returns-The  Transformations  of  Anti- 
christ—The English  obtain  a  new  Document— Fresh  Stratagoni— De- 
mand of  a  second  Cardinal-legate— The  Pope's  new  Expedient— End  of 
the  Campaign. 

The  envoys  of  the  king  of  England  appeared  in  the 
character  of  the  saviours  of  Rome.  This  was  doubt- 
less no  stratagem  ;  and  "Wolscy  probably  regarded  that 
thought  as  coming  from  heaven,  which  had  "visited  him 
during  the  weaiy  sleepless  night.  The  zeal  of  his 
agents  increased.  The  pope  was  hardly  set  at  liberty 
before  Knight  and  Da  Casale  appeared  at  the  foot  of 
the  precipitous  rock  on  which  Orvieto  is  built,  and  de- 
manded to  be  introduced  to  Clement  VII.  Nothing 
could  be  more  compromising  to  the  pontiff  than  such  a 


visit.  How  coidd  he  appear  on  good  terras  with  Eng- 
land, when  Rome  and  all  his  states  were  still  in  the 
hands  of  Catherine's  nephew  ?  The  pope's  mind  was 
utterly  bewildered  by  the  demand  of  the  two  envoys. 
He  recovered,  however ;  to  reject  the  powerful  hand 
extended  to  him  by  England,  was  not  without  its 
danger ;  and  as  he  knew  well  how  to  bring  a  dilficult 
negotiation  to  a  successful  conclusion,  Clement  regained 
confidence  in  his  skill,  and  gave  orders  to  introduce 
Henry's  ambassadors. 

Their  discourse  was  not  without  eloquence.  "  Never 
was  the  church  in  a  more  critical  position,"  said  they. 
"  The  unmeasured  ambition  of  the  kings  who  claim  to 
dispose  of  spiritual  affairs  at  their  own  pleasure  (this 
was  aimed  at  Charles  V.)  holds  the  apostolical  bark 
suspended  over  an  abyss.  The  only  port  o|ien  to  it  in 
the  tempest  is  the  favour  of  llir  :ni;_Mi-i  |)iiiiii'  \vli()m 
we  represent,  and  who  has  alway-  limi  ih,-  -hicM  nf  the 
faith.  But,  alas!  this  monarrh,  ih.'  iiuiniuiKiliK-  bul- 
wark of  your  holiness,  is  himself  liic  \>i\y  nf  trilniliitions 
almost  equal  to  your  own.  His  conscience  torn  by  re- 
morse, his  crown  without  an  heir,  his  kiiii;iloui  without 
security,  his  people  exposed  once  more  to  peri)etual 
disorders.  .  .  .  Nay,  the  whole  Christian  world 
given  up  to  the  most  cruel  discord.  .  .  .  Such  are 
the  consequences  of  a  fatal  union,  which  God  has  marked 
with  His  displeasure.  .  .  .  There  are  also,"  they 
added  in  a  lower  tone,  "  certain  things  of  which  his 
majesty  cannot  speak  in  his  letter,  .  .  .  certain 
incurable  disorders  under  which  the  queen  suffers,  which 
will  never  permit  the  king  to  look  upon  her  again  as 
his  wife.  If  your  holiness  puts  an  end  to  such  wretch- 
edness, by  annuling  his  unlawful  marriage,  you  will 
attach  his  majesty  by  an  indissoluble  bond.  Assist- 
ance, riches,  armies,  crown,  and  even  life — the  king  our 
master  is  ready  to  employ  all  in  the  service  of  Rome. 
He  stretches  out  his  hand  to  you,  most  holy  father, 
.  .  .  stretch  out  yours  to  him  ;  by  your  union  the 
church  will  be  saved,  and  Europe  will  be  saved  with 
it." 

Clement  was  cruelly  embarrassed.  His  policy  con- 
sisted in  holding  the  balance  between  the  two  princes, 
and  he  was  now  called  upon  to  decide  in  favour  of  one 
of  them.  He  began  to  regret  that  he  had  ever  received 
Ileni-y's  ambassadors.  "  Consider  my  position,"  he 
said  to  them,  "  and  entreat  the  king  to  wait  until  more 
favourable  events  leave  me  at  liberty  to  act." — 
"  What !  "  replied  Knight,  proudly,  "  has  not  your 
holiness  promised  to  consider  his  majesty's  prayer  /  If 
you  fail  in  your  promise  now,  how  can  I  persuade  the 
king  that  you  will  keep  it  some  future  day?  "  Da 
Casale  thought  the  time  had  come  to  strike  a  decisive 
blow.  "  What  evils,"  he  exclaimed,  "  what  inevitable 
misfortunes  your  refusal  will  create !  .  .  .  The 
emperor  thinks  only  of  depriving  the  church  of  its 
power,  and  the  King  of  England  alone  has  sworn  to 
maintain  it."  Then  speaking  lower,  more  slowly,  and 
dwelling  upon  every  word,  he  continued :  "  We  fear 
that  his  majesty,  reduced  to  such  extremities,  .  .  . 
of  the  two  evils  will  choose  the  least,  and  supported  by 
the  piu'ity  of  his  intentions,  will  do  of  his  own  axtthoritij 
.  .  .  what  he  now  so  respectfully  demands.  . 
What  should  we  see  then  ?  .  .  .  I  shudder  at  the 
thought.     .     •     .     Let  not  your  holiness  indulge  in  a 


HISTOEY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


false  security,  wliicli  will  inevitably  drag  you  into  the 
abyss.  .  .  .  Read  all;  .  .  .  remark  all;  .  . 
divine  all;  .  .  .  take  note  of  all.  .  .  .  Most 
holy  father,  this  is  a  question  of  life  and  death."  And 
Da  Casale's  tone  said  more  than  his  words. 

Clement  understood  that  a  positive  refusal  would 
expose  him  to  lose  England.  Placed  between  Henry 
and  Charles,  as  between  the  hammer  and  the  forge,  he 
resolved  to  gain  time.  "  Well,  then,"  he  said  to  Knight 
and  Da  Casale,  "  I  will  do  what  you  ask ;  but  I  am 
not  familiar  witli  the  forms  these  dispensations  require. 
.  .  .  I  will  consult  the  Cardinal  SaucUjrum  Qnatuor 
on  the  subject,     .     .     .     and  then  will  inform  you." 

Knight  and  Da  Casale,  wishing  to  anticipate  Clement 
VII.,  hastened  to  Lorenzo  Pucei,  Cardinal  Sanctorum 
Quatuor,  and  intimated  to  him  that  their  master  would 
know  how  to  be  grateful.  The  cardinal  assured  the 
deputies  of  his  affection  for  Henry  VIH. ;  and  they,  iu 
the  fulness  of  their  gratitude,  laid  before  him  the  four 
documents  which  they  were  anxious  to  get  executed. 
But  the  cardinal  had  hardly  looked  at  the  first — the 
proposal  that  AVolsey  should  decide  the  matter  of  the 
divorce  in  England — when  he  exclaimed  :  "  Impos- 
sible !  .  .  .  a  bull  in  such  terms  would  cover  with 
eternal  disgrace  not  only  his  holiness  and  the  king,  but 
even  the  Cardinal  of  York  himself."  The  deputies 
were  confounded,  for  Wolsey  had  ordered  them  to  ask 
the  pope  for  nothing  but  his  signatm-e.  Recovering 
themselves,  they  rejoined:  "All  that  we  require  is  a 
competent  commission."  On  his  part,  the  pope  wrote 
Henry  a  letter,  in  which  he  managed  to  say  nothing. 

Of  the  four  required  documents  there  were  two  on 
whose  immediate  despatch  Knight  and  Da  Casale 
insisted :  these  were  the  commission  to  pronounce  the 
divorce,  and  the  dispensation  to  contract  a  second 
marriage.  The  dispensation  without  the  commission 
was  of  no  value  ;  this  the  pope  knew  well;  accordingly, 
he  resolved  to  give  the  dispensation  only.  It  was  as  if 
Charles  had  granted  Clement,  when  in  prison,  permission 
to  visit  his  cardinals,  but  denied  him  liberty  to  leave 
the  castle  of  St.  Augelo.  It  is  iu  such  a  manner  as 
this  that  a  religious  system,  transformed  into  a  political 
system,  has  recourse,  when  it  is  without  power,  to 
stratagem.  " The  commission"  said  the  artful  Medici 
to  Kuight,  "  must  be  corrected  according  to  the  style  of 
our  court ;  but  here  is  the  dispensation."  Knight  took 
the  document :  it  was  addressed  to  Heniy  VIIL,  and 
ran  thus  :  "  We  accord  to  j^ou,  in  case  your  marriage 
-wilh  Catherine  shall  be  declared  null,  free  liberty  to 
take  another  wife,  provided  she  have  not  been  the  wife 
of  your  brother."  .  .  ,  The  Englishman  was  duped 
by  the  Italian.  "  To  my  poor  judgment,"  he  said, 
"this  document  will  be  of  use  to  us."  After  this 
Clement  appeared  to  concern  himself  solely  about 
Knight's  health,  and  suddenly  manifested  the  greatest 
interest  for  him.  "  It  is  proper  that  you  should  hasten 
your  departure,"  said  he,  "  for  it  is  necessaiy  that  you 
should  travel  at  your  ease.  Gambara  will  follow  you 
post,  and  bring  the  commission."  Knight,  thus  mysti- 
fied, took  leave  of  the  pope,  who  got  rid  of  Da  Casale 
and  Gambara  in  a  similar  manner.  He  then  began  to 
breathe  once  more.  There  was  no  diplomacy  iu  Europe 
which  Rome,  even  iu  its  greatest  weakness,  could  not 
easily  dupe. 


It  had  now  become  necessary  to  elude  the  commission. 
While  the  king's  envoys  were  departing  in  good  spii-its, 
reckoning  on  the  document  that  was  to  follow  them, 
the  general  of  the  Spanish  Observance  reiterated  to 
the  pontiff  in  every  tone  :  "  Be  careful  to  give  no  docu- 
ment authorizing  the  divorce,  and  above  all,  do  not 
permit  this  affair  to  be  judged  in  Henry's  states."  The 
cardinals  drew  up  the  document  under  the  influence  of 
De  Angelis,  and  made  it  a  masterpiece  of  insignificance. 
If  good  theology  ennobles  the  heart,  bad  theology,  so 
fertile  in  subtleties,  imparts  to  the  mind  a  skill  by  no 
means  common ;  and  heuce  the  most  celebrated  diplo- 
matists have  often  been  churchmen.  The  act  being 
thus  drawn  up,  the  pope  despatched  three  copies  to 
Knight,  to  Da  Casale,  aud  to  Gambara.  Kuight  was 
near  Bologna  when  the  courier  overtook  him.  He  was 
stupefied,  and  taking  post-horses  returned  with  all  haste 
to  Orvieto.  Gambara  proceeded  through  France  to 
England  with  the  useless  dispensation  which  the  pope 
had  granted. 

Knight  had  thought  to  meet  with  more  good  faith  at 
the  court  of  the  pope  thau  with  kings,  and  he  had  been 
outwitted.  What  would  Wolsey  and  Henry  say  of  his 
folly?  His  wounded  self-esteem  began  to  make  him 
believe  all  that  Tyndale  and  Luther  said  of  the  pope- 
dom. The  former  had  just  published  the  "  Obedience 
of  a  Christian  Man,"  and  the  "  Parable  of  the  Wicked 
Mammon,"  iu  which  he  represented  Rome  as  one  of 
the  transformations  of  Antichrist.  "Antichrist,"  said 
he  in  the  latter  treatise,  "  is  not  a  man  that  should 
suddenly  appear  with  wonders ;  he  is  a  spiritual  thing, 
who  was  iu  the  Old  Testament,  and  also  iu  the  time  of 
Christ  and  the  apostles,  and  is  uow,  and  shall  (I  doubt 
not)  endure  till  the  world's  end.  His  nature  is  (when 
he  is  overcome  with  the  Word  of  God)  to  go  out  of  the 
play  for  a  season,  and  to  disguise  himself,  and  then  to 
come  in  again  with  a  new  name  and  new  raiment.  The 
Scribes  and  Pharisees  in  the  Gospel  were  very  Anti- 
christs ;  popes,  cardinals,  and  bishops,  have  gotten  their 
new  names,  but  the  thing  is  all  one.  Even  so  now, 
when  we  have  uttered  [detected]  him,  lie  will  change 
himself  once  more,  and  tiu-n  himself  into  an  angel  of 
light.  Already  the  least,  seeing  himself  uow  to  be 
sought  for,  roareth  aud  seeketh  uew  holes  to  hide  him- 
self in,  and  changeth  himself  into  a  thousand  fashions." 
This  idea,  paradoxical  at  first,  gradually  made  its  way 
into  men's  minds.  The  Romans,  by  their  practices, 
familiarized  the  English  to  the  somewhat  coarse  de- 
scrijJtions  of  the  reformers.  England  was  to  have 
many  such  lessons,  and  thus,  by  degrees,  leam  to  set 
Rome  aside  for  the  sake  of  her  own  glory  aud 
prosperity. 

Knight  and  Da  Casale  reached  Orvieto  about  the 
same  time.  Clement  replied  with  sighs  :  '•'Alas  !  I  am 
the  emperor's  prisoner.  The  imperialists  are  every 
day  pillaging  towns  aud  castles  in  our  neighbourhood. 
.  .  .  .  Wretch  that  I  am !  I  have  not  a  friend 
except  the  king  your  master,  and  he  is  far  away.  .  . 
If  I  should  do  anything  uow  to  displease  Charles,  I  am 
a  lost  man.  ...  To  sigu  the  commission  woidd 
be  to  sign  an  eternal  rupture  with  him."  But  Kuight 
and  Da  Casale  pleaded'  so  effectually  with  Cardinal 
Sanctorum  Quatuor,  aud  so  pressed  Clement,  that  the 
pontiff,  without  the  knowledge  of  the  Spaniard  De 


THE  POPE'S  NEW  EXPEDIENT. 


CG7 


Angclis,  gave  them  a  more  satisfactoiy  document,  but 
not  such  as  Wolscy  required,  "lu  giving  you  this 
commission,"  said  the  pope,  "I  am  giving  away  my 
liberty,  and  perhaps  my  life.  1  listen  not  to  the  voice 
of  prudence,  but  to  that  of  affection  only.  I  confide 
iu  the  generosity  of  the  King  of  England;  he  is  the 
master  of  my  destiny."  lie  then  began  to  weep,  and 
seemed  i-eady  to  faint.  Knight,  forgetting  his  vexation, 
promised  Clement  that  the  king  would  do  everything 
to  save  him.  "Ah !"  said  the  pope,  "  there  is  one  effect- 
ual means." — "What  is  that?"  inciuired  Ileniy's  agents. 
"  JI.  Lautrec,  who  says  daily  that  he  will  come,  but 
never  does,"  replied  Clement,  "  has  oidy  to  bring  the 
French  army  |ironi|iily  liot'orc  the  gates  of  Orvieto;  then 
I  could  excii-''  my»  ir  \>y  saying  that  lie  constrained  me 
to  .sign  th.'  rniunii-Mnii." — "Nothing  is  easier,"  replied 
the  envoys  ;  "  we  will  go  and  hasten  his  arrival." 

Clement  was  not  oven  now  at  ease.  The  safely  of 
the  Roman  Church  troubled  liim  not  less  than  his  own. 
.  .  .  .  Charles  might  discover  the  trick  and  make 
tlie  popedom  suffer  for  it.  There  was  danger  on  all 
sides.  If  tlic  English  spoke  of  independence,  did  not 
the  emperor  threaten  a  vform?  .  .  .  The  catholic 
princes,  said  the  papal  councillors,  arc  capable,  without 
perhaps  a  single  exception,  of  supporting  the  cause  of 
Luther  to  gratify  a  criminal  ambition.  The  pope 
reflected,  and  withdrawing  his  word,  promised  to  give 
the  commission  when  Lautrec  was  under  the  walls  of 
Orvieto ;  but  the  English  agents  insisted  on  having  it 
immediately.  To  conciliate  all,  it  was  agi-eed  that  the 
pope  should  give  the  re(juired  document  at  once,  but 
as  soon  as  the  French  army  arrived,  he  should  send 
another  copy,  bearing  the  date  of  the  day  on  which  he 
saw  Lautrec.  "  Beseech  the  king  to  keep  secret  the 
commission  I  give  you,"  said  Clement  VII.  to  Knight ; 
"  if  he  begins  the  process  immediately  he  receives  it, 
I  am  undone  for  ever."  The  pope  thus  gave  permission 
to  act,  on  condition  of  not  acting  at  all.  Knight  took 
leave  ou  the  1st  of  January,  1528;  he  promised  all  the 
pontiff  desired,  and  then,  as  if  fearing  some  fresh 
ditficulfy,  he  departed  the  same  day.  Da  Casale,  on 
his  side,  after  having  offered  the  Cardinal  Sanctorum 
Quatuor  a  gift  of  4(lt)()  crowns,  which  he  refused,  re- 
paired to  Lautrec,  to  beg  him  to  constrain  the  pope  to 
sign  a  document  which  was  already  on  its  way  to 
England. 

But  -while  the  business  seemed  to  be  clearing  at 
Rome,  it  was  becoming  more  complicated  at  London. 
The  king's  project  got  wind,  and  Cathcnne  gave  way 
to  the  liveliest  sorrow.  "I  shall  protest,"  said  she, 
"  against  the  commission  given  to  the  Cardinal  of 
York.  Is  he  not  the  king's  subject,  the  vile  flatterer 
of  his  pleasures  ?  "  Catherine  did  not  resist  alone ;  the 
people,  who  hated  the  cardinal,  could  not  with  pleasm-e 
see  him  invested  with  such  authority.  To  obviate 
this  inconvenience,  Henry  resolved  to  ask  the  pope 
for  another  cardinal,  who  should  be  empowered  to 
terminate  the  affair  in  London,  with  or  without  Wolsey. 

The  latter  agreed  to  the  measure :  it  is  even  possible 
that  he  was  the  first  to  suggest  it,  for  he  feared  to 
bear  alone  the  res])onsibility  of  so  hateful  an  inquiry. 
Accordingly,  on  the  27th  of  December,  he  wrote  to 
the  king's  agents  at  Rome:  "Procure  the  envoy  of  a 
legate,  and  particularly  of  au  able,  easy,  manageable 


legate,  .  .  .  desirous  of  meriting  the  king's  favour; 
Campeggio,  for  instance.  You  will  earnestly  request 
the  cardinal  who  may  be  selected  to  travel  with  all 
diligence,  and  you  will  assure  him  that  the  king  wUl 
behave  liberally  towards  him." 

Knight  reached  Asti  on  the  10th  of  January,  where 
he  found  letters  with  fresh  orders.  This  was  another 
check :  at  one  time  it  is  the  pope  who  compels  him  to 
retrograde,  at  another  it  is  the  king.  Henry's  unlucky 
valetudinarian  secretar}',  a  man  very  susceptible  of 
fatigue,  and  already  wearied  and  exhausted  by  ten 
jiainful  journeys,  was  iu  a  very  bad  humour.  He 
determined  to  permit  Gambara  to  carry  the  two  docu- 
ments to  England;  to  commission  Da  Casale,  who  had 
not  left  the  pope's  neighbourhood,  to  solicit  the  de- 
spatch of  the  legate ;  and  as  regarded  himself,  to  go 
and  wait  for  further  orders  at  Turin : — "  If  it  be 
thought  good  unto  the  king's  highness  that  I  do  return 
unto  Orvieto,  I  shall  do  as  much  as  my  poor  carcass 
may  endure." 

When  Da  Casale  reached  Bologna,  he  pressed  Lau- 
trec to  go  and  constrain  the  ))ontiff  to  sign  the  act 
wliich  Gambara  was  already  bearing  to  England.  On 
receiving  the  new  despatches  he  returned  in  all  haste 
to  Orvieto ;  and  the  pope  was  very  much  alarmed 
when  he  heard  of  his  arrival.  He  had  feared  to  grant 
a  simple  papei",  destined  to  remain  secret ;  and  now  he 
is  required  to  send  a  prince  of  the  church!  Will 
Henry  never  be  satisfied?  "The  mission  you  desire 
would  be  full  of  dangers,"  he  replied ;  "  but  we  have 
discovered  another  means,  alone  calculated  to  finish 
this  business.  Mind  you  do  not  say  that  I  pointed  it 
out  to  you,"  added  the  pope  in  a  mysterious  tone ; 
"  but  that  it  was  suggested  by  Cardinal  Sanctoriun 
Quatuor  and  Simonetta."  Da  Casale  was  all  atten- 
tion. "  There  is  not  a  doctor  iu  the  world  who  can 
better  decide  on  this  matter,  and  on  its  most  private 
circumstances,  than  the  king  himself.  If,  therefore,  he 
sincerely  believes  that  Catherine  had  really  become  his 
brother's  wife,  let  him  empower  the  Cardinal  of  York 
to  pronounce  the  divorce,  and  let  him  take  another 
wife  without  any  further  ceremony;  he  can  then  after- 
wards demand  the  confirmation  of  the  consistory.  The 
affair  being  concluded  in  this  way,  I  will  take  the  rest 
upon  myself." — "  But,"  said  Da  Casale,  somewhat 
dissatisfied  with  this  new  intrigue,  "  I  must  fulfil  my 
mission,  and  the  king  demands  a  legate."  "  And  whom 
shall  I  send  ? "  asked  Clement.  "  Da  Monte '?  he  can- 
not move.  De  Ca;sis?  he  is  at  Naples.  Ai-a  CoeU? 
he  has  the  gout.  Piccolomiui  ?  he  is  of  the  imperial 
party.  .  .  .  Campeggio  would  be  the  best,  but 
he  is  at  Rome,  where  he  supplies  my  place,  and  cannot 
leave  without  peril  to  the  church."  .  .  .  And 
then,  with  some  emotion,  he  added,  "  I  throw  myself 
into  his  majesty's  arms.  The  emperor  will  never 
forgive  what  I  am  doing.  If  he  hears  of  it  he  will 
summon  me  before  his  council;  I  shall  have  no  rest 
until  he  has  deprived  me  of  my  throne  and  my  life  !" 

Da  Casale  hastened  to  fom'ard  to  London  the  result 
of  the  conference.  Clement  being  unable  to  untie  the 
knot,  requested  Henry  to  cut  it.  Will  this  prince 
hesitate  to  employ  so  easy  a  means,  the  pope  (Clement 
declared  it  himself)  being  willing  to  ratify  every- 
thing ? 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


Here  closes  Hemy's  first  campaign  iu  the  territories 
of  the  popedom.  We  shall  now  see  the  results  of  so 
many  efforts. 


CHAPTER  X. 

Disappointment  in  England— War  dedared  against  Charles  V.— Wolscy 
desires  to  get  him  Deposed  by  the  Pope— A  new  Scheme— Embassy 
of  Fox  and  Gardiner— Their  Arrival  at  Orvieto— Their  first  interview 
with  Clement— The  Pope  reads  a  Treatise  by  Hemy- Gardiner's  Threats 
and  Clement's  Promise— The  Modem  Fabius— Fresh  Interview  and 
Menaces— The  Pope  has  not  the  A'cy— Gardiner's  Proposition— Diffi- 
culties and  Delays  of  the  Cardinals— Gardiner's  last  Blows— Reverses 
of  Charles  V.  in  Italy— The  Pope's  Terror  and  Concession— 'Die  Com- 
mission granted— Wolsey  demands  the  Engageytuiit—A  Loophole— The 
Pope's  Distress. 

Never  was  disappointment  more  complete  than  that 
felt  by  Henry  and  Wolsey  aftei-  the  arrival  of  Gambara 
with  the  commission  ;  the  king  was  angi'y,  the  cardinal 
vexed.  AVhat  Clement  called  the  sacrifice  of  his  life, 
was  in  reality  but  a  sheet  of  paper  fit  only  to  be  thrown 
into  the  fire.  "  Tliis  commission  is  of  no  value,"  said 
AVolscy. — "  And  even  to  put  it  into  execution,"  added 
Henry,  "we  must  wait  until  the  imperialists  have 
quitted  Italy!  The  pope  is  putting  us  off  to  the  Greek 
calends."  "  His  holiness,"  observed  the  cardinal,  "  docs 
not  bind  himseK  to  pronounce  the  divorce ;  the  queen 
•will  therefore  appeal  from  our  judgment." — "And  even 
if  the  pope  had  bound  himself,"  added  the  king,  "  it 
would  be  sufficient  for  the  emperor  to  smile  upon  him, 
to  make  him  retract  what  he  had  promised."  "  It  is 
aU  a  cheat  and  a  mockery,"  concluded  both  king  and 
minister. 

What  was  to  be  done  next  ?  The  only  way  to  make 
Clement  ours,  thought  Wolsey,  is  to  get  rid  of  Charles ; 
it  is  time  his  pride  was  brought  down.  Accordingly, 
on  the  21st  of  January,  1528,  France  and  England  de- 
clared hostilities  against  the  emperor.  When  Charlcis 
heard  of  this  proceeding,  he  exclaimed :  "  I  know  the 
hand  that  has  flung  the  torch  of  war  into  the  midst  of 
Europe.  My  crime  is  not  having  placed  the  Cardinal 
of  York  on  St.  Peter's  throne." 

A  mere  declaration  of  war  waa  not  enough  for 
Wolsey;  the  Bishoj)  of  Bayonne,  ambassador  from 
France,  seeing  him  one  day  somewhat  excited,  whis- 
pered in  his  ear ;  "  In  former  times  popes  have  deposed 
emperors  for  smaller  offences."  Charles's  deposition 
would  have  delivered  the  king  of  France  from  a  trouble- 
some rival;  but  Du  Bellay,  fearing  to  tiike  the  initiative 
in  so  bold  an  enterprise,  suggested  the  idea  to  the  car- 
dinal. Wolsey  reflected :  such  a  thought  had  never 
before  occurred  to  him.  Taking  the  ambassador  aside 
to  a  window,  he  there  swore  stout/?/,  said  Du  BoUay, 
that  he  should  be  delighted  to  use  all  his  influence  to 
get  Charles  deposed  by  the  pope.  "  No  one  is  more 
likely  than  yourself,"  replied  the  bishop,  "  to  induce 
Clement  to  do  it." — "  I  will  use  all  my  credit,"  re- 
joined Wolsey;  and  the  two  priests  separated.  This 
bright  idea  the  cardinal  never  forgot.  Charles  had 
robbed  him  of  the  tiara ;  he  will  retaliate  by  depriving 
Charles  of  his  crown.     An  eye  for  an  eye,  and  a  tooth 


for  a  tooth.  Staffilco,  dean  of  the  Eota,  was  then  in 
London,  and  still  burning  with  resentment  against  the 
author  of  the  Sack  of  Rome,  he  favourably  received 
the  suggestions  Wolsey  made  to  him  ;  and,  finally,  the 
envoy  from  John  Zapolya,  king-elect  of  Hungary,  sup- 
ported the  project.  But  the  kings  of  France  and  Eng- 
land were  not  so  easily  induced  to  put  the  thrones  of 
kings  at  the  disposal  of  the  priests.  It  appears,  how- 
ever, that  the  pope  was  sounded  on  the  subject ;  and 
if  the  emperor  had  been  beaten  iu  Italy,  it  is  probable 
that  the  bull  would  have  been  fulminated  against  him. 
His  sword  preserved  his  crown,  and  the  plot  of  the  two 
bishops  failed. 

The  king's  councillors  began  to  seek  for  less  heroic 
means.  "We  must  prosecute  the  affair  at  Rome,"  said 
some. — "  No,"  said  others,  "  in  England.  The  pope  is 
too  much  afraid  of  the  emperor  to  pronounce  the  divorce 
in  person." — "  If  the  pope  fears  the  emperor  more  than 
the  King  of  England,"  exclaimed  the  proud  Tudor, 
"we  shall  find  some  other  way  to  set  him  at  ease." 
Thus,  at  the  first  contradiction,  Hemy  placed  his  hand 
on  his  sword,  and  threatened  to  sever  the  ties  which 
bound  his  kingdom  to  the  throne  of  the  Itahan  pontiff. 
"  I  have  hit"  it ! "  said  Wolsey,  at  length  ;  "  we  must 
combine  the  two  plans — judge  the  affair  in  London, 
and  at  the  same  time  bind  the  pontiff  at  Rome."  And 
then  the  able  cardinal  proposed  the  draft  of  a  bull,  by 
which  the  pope,  delegating  his  authority  to  two  legates, 
should  declare  that  the  acts  of  that  delegation  should 
have  a  perpetual  effect,  notwithstanding  any  contraiy 
decrees  that  might  subsequently  emanate  from  his  in- 
fallible authority.  A  new  mission  was  decided  upon 
for  the  accomplishment  of  this  bold  design. 

Wolsey,  annoyed  by  the  folly  of  Knight  and  his  col- 
leagues, desu-ed  men  of  another  stamp.  He  therefore 
cast  his  eyes  on  his  own  secretary,  Stephen  Gardiner, 
an  active  man,  intelligent,  supple,  and  crafty,  a  learned 
canonist,  desirous  of  the  king's  favour,  and,  above  all, 
a  good  Romanist,  which  at  Rome  was  not  without  its 
advantage.  Gardiner  was  in  small  the  living  image  of 
his  master;  and  hence  the  cardinal  sometimes  styled  him 
the  half  of  himself .  Edward  Fox,  the  chief  almoner,  was 
joined  with  him— a  moderate,  influential  man,  a  parti- 
cular friend  of  Henry's,  and  a  zealous  advocate  of  the 
divorce.  Fox  was  named  first  in  the  commission ;  but 
it  was  agreed  that  Gardiner  should  be  the  real  head  of 
the  embassy.  "  Repeat  without  ceasing,"  Wolsey  told 
them,  "that  his  majesty  caunot  do  otherwise  than 
separate  from  the  queen.  Attack  each  one  on  his 
weak  side.  Declare  to  the  pope  that  the  king  promises 
to  defend  him  against  the  emperor;  and  to  the  car- 
dinals, that  their  services  will  be  nobly  rewarded.  If 
that  docs  not  sufRce,  let  the  energy  of  your  words  be 
such  as  to  excite  a  wholesome  fear  iu  the  pontiff." 

Fox  and  Gardiner,  after  a  gracious  reception  at  Paris 
(23rd  February)  by  Francis  I.,  arrived  at  Orvieto  ou 
the  20th  of  IVIarch,  after  many  perils,  and  with  their 
dress  in  such  chsorder,  that  no  one  coidd  have  taken 
them  for  the  ambassadors  of  Hemy  VIII.  "  What  a 
city!"  they  exclaimed,  as  they  passed  through  its 
streets;  "what  ruins,  what  misery!  It  is  indeed 
truly  called  Orvieto  {lu-hs  vetiis)l"  The  state  of  the 
town  gave  them  no  very  grand  idea  of  the  state  of 
the  popedom,  and  they  imagined  that  with  a  pontiff  so 


HENRY'S  AMBASSADORS  WITH  THE  POPE. 


poorly  lodgod,  their  ncfjotiation  could  not  be  othcnvise 
tli;i!i  easy.  "  I  give  you  my  house,"  said  Da  Casale,  to 
•whom  they  went,  "  my  room,  and  my  own  bed  ;"  and  as 
tliey  made  some  objections,  he  added:  "It  is  not  pos- 
sible to  lodjjje  yon  elsewhere ;  I  have  even  been  forced 
to  borrow  what  was  necessary  to  receive  yon."  Da 
Casale,  jircssiu^  thorn  to  change  their  clothes,  which 
were  still  <lri|iiiiiig,  (they  had  jnst  crossed  a  river  on 
lluir  luulcs.)  tliry  replied,  that  being  obliged  to  travel 
post,  tiny  had  not  been  able  to  bring  a  change  of  rai- 
ment. "Alas!"  said  Casale,  "what  is  to  bo  done? 
there  are  few  persons  in  Orvicto  who  have  more  gar- 
ments than  one ;  even  the  shopkeepers  have  no  cloth 
for  sale ;  this  town  is  quite  a  prison.  People  say  the 
l)oi)e  is  at  liberty  here.  A  pretty  liberty  indeed ! 
AN'ant,  impure  air,  wret(Jied  lodging,  and  a  thousand 
other  inconveniences,  keep  the  holy  father  closer  than 
when  he  was  in  the  Castle  of  St.  Angelo.  Accord- 
ingly, he  told  me  the  other  day,  it  was  better  to  be 
in  captivity  at  Rome  than  at  liberty  hero." 

In  two  days,  however,  they  managed  to  procure  some 
new  clothing;  and  being  now  in  a  condition  to  shew 
thenisclves,  Henry's  agents  were  admitted  to  an  aftcr- 
diuntr  audienre  on  Monday,  the  22d  of  March,  (1528.) 

Da  Casale  conducted  them  to  an  old  building  in 
ruins.  '•  This  is  where  his  holiness  lives,"  he  said. 
They  looked  at  one  another  with  astonishmeut,  and, 
crossing  the  rubbish  lying  about,  passed  through  three 
chambers  whose  ceiluigs  had  fallen  in,  whose  windows 
were  curtainless,  and  in  which  thirty  persons,  "  riff-raff 
were  standing  against  the  bare  walls  for  a  garnish- 
ment."    This  was  the  pope's  court. 

At  length  the  ambassadoi-s  reached  the  pontiff's 
room,  and  placed  Henry's  letters  in  his  hands.  "  Your 
holiness,"  said  Gardiner,  "  when  sending  the  king  a 
dispensation,  was  pleased  to  add,  that  if  this  document 
were  not  sufficient,  you  would  willingly  give  a  better. 
It  is  that  favour  the  kuig  now  desires."  The  pope 
with  embarrassment  strove  to  soften  his  refusal.  "  I 
am  informed,"  he  said,  "  that  the  king  is  led  on  in  this 
affair  by  a  secret  inclination,  and  that  the  lady  he  loves 
is  far  from  being  worthy  of  him."  Gardiner  replied 
with  firmness :  "  The  king  truly  desires  to  marry 
again  after  the  divorce,  that  he  may  have  an  heir  to 
the  crown ;  bnt  the  woman  he  proposes  to  take  is  ani- 
mated by  the  noblest  sentiments  ;  the  Cardinal  of  Y'ork 
and  all  England  do  homage  to  her  virtues."  The  pope 
appeared  convuiced.  "Besides,"  continued  Gardiner, 
'•  the  kiug  has  written  a  book  on  the  motives  of  his 
divorce." — "Good!  come  and  read  it  to  me  to-morrow," 
rejoined  Clement. 

The  next  day  the  English  envoys  had  hardly  ap- 
peared, before  Clement  took  Henry's  book,  ran  over 
it  as  he  walked  up  and  down  the  room,  and  then  seat- 
ing himself  on  a  long  bench  covered  with  an  old  carpet, 
"  not  worth  twenty  pence,"  says  an  annalist,  he  read 
the  book  aloud.  He  counted  the  number  of  arguments, 
nuide  objections  as  if  Henry  were  present,  and  piled 
them  one  upon  another  without  waiting  for  an  answer. 
"  The  marriages  forbidden  in  Leviticus,"  said  he,  in  a 
short  and  quick  tone  of  voice,  "are  permitted  in 
Deuteronomy;  now  Deuteronomy  coming  after  Levi- 
ticus, we  are  bound  by  the  latter.  The  honour  of 
Catherine  and  the  emperor  is  at  stake,  and  the  divorce 


would  give  rise  to  a  terrible  war."  The  pope  continued 
speaking,  and  whenever  the  Englishmen  attempted  to 
rcjjly,  he  bade  them  be  silent,  and  kept  on  reading. 
"  it  is  an  excellent  book,"  said  he,  liowever,  in  a 
courteous  tone,  when  he  had  ended  ;  "  I  shall  keep  it 
to  read  over  again  at  my  leisure."  Gardiner  then 
presenting  a  draft  of  the  commis.-iou  which  Henry  rc- 
qtiired,  Clement  made  answer :  "  It  is  too  late  to  look 
at  it  now;  leave  it  with  me." — "But  we  are  in  haste," 
added  Gardiner.  "  Y'es,  yes,  I  know  it,"  said  the  pope. 
All  his  efforts  tended  to  ])rotract  the  business. 

On  the  28th  of  March,  the  ambassadors  were  con- 
ducted to  the  room  in  which  the  pope  slept;  the  car- 
dinals Sanctorum  Quatuor  and  De  Monte,  as  well  as 
the  councillor  of  the  Rota,  Simouetta,  were  then  with 
him.  Chairs  were  arranged  in  a  semicircle.  "  Bo 
seated,"  said  Clement,  who  stood  in  the  middle. 
"Master  Gardiner,  now  tell  me  what  you  want." — 
"  There  is  no  question  between  us  but  one  of  iinie. 
Y'ou  promised  to  ratify  the  divorce  as  soon  as  it  was 
pronounced ;  and  we  require  you  to  do  before,  what 
you  engage  to  do  after.  What  is  right  on  one  d.ay, 
must  be  right  on  another."  Then,  raising  his  voice, 
the  Englishman  added:  "If  his  majesty  perceives  that 
no  more  respect  is  paid  to  him  than  to  a  common  man, 
he  will  have  recourse  to  a  remedi/  which  I  will  not 
name,  but  which  will  not  fail  in  its  effect." 

The  pope  and  his  councillors  looked  at  one  another 
in  silence ;  they  had  understood  him.  The  imperious 
Gardiner,  remarking  the  effect  which  he  had  produced, 
then  added  in  an  absolute  tone :  "  We  have  onr  in- 
structions, and  are  determined  to  keep  to  them." — "  I 
am  ready  to  do  everything  compatible  with  my  honour," 
exclaimed  Clement,  in  alami.  "  What  your  honour 
would  not  permit  you  to  gi'ant,"  said  the  proud  ambas- 
sador, "  the  honour  of  the  king,  my  master,  would  not 
permit  him  to  ask."  Gai-diner's  language  became  more 
iraperati\  e  every  minute.  "  Well,  then,"  said  Clement, 
driven  to  extremity,  "I  will  do  what  the  king  demands; 
and  if  the  emperor  is  angiy,  I  cannot  help  it."  The 
interview,  which  had  commenced  with  a  storm,  finished 
with  a  gleam  of  sunshine. 

That  bright  gleam  soon  disappeared :  Clement,  who 
imagined  he  saw  in  Henry  a  Hannibal  at  war  with 
Rome,  wished  to  play  the  temporizer,  the  Fabiiis 
Cunclator.  '■'■Bis  dat  qui  cito  dat,"^  said  Gardiner 
sharply,  who  observed  this  manojuvre. — "  It  is  a  ques- 
tion of  law,"  replied  the  pope;  "and  as  I  am  veiy 
ignorant  in  these  matters,  I  must  give  the  doctors 
of  the  canon  law  the  necessary  time  to  make  it  all 
clear."  "  By  his  delays  Fabins  5laximus  saved  Rome," 
rejoined  Gardiner ;  "  you  will  destroy  it  by  yours."-— 
"Alas!"  exclaimed  the  pope,  "if  I  say  the  king  is 
right,  I  shall  have  to  go  back  to  prison."  "When 
truth  is  concerned,"  said  the  ambassador,  "of  what 
consequence  are  the  opinions  of  men  ?  "  Gardiner  was 
speaking  at  his  ease;  but  Clement  found  that  the 
castle  of  St.  Angelo  was  not  without  weight  in  the 
balance.  "  Y'ou  may  be  sure  that  I  shall  do  everything 
for  the  best,"  replied  the  modern  Fabins.  AVith  these 
words  the  conference  terminated. 

Such  were  the  struggles  of  England  with  the  pope- 
dom— struggles   which   were   to   end   in   a   definitive 

1  He  gives  twice  wlio  gives  quickly. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


rupture.  Gardiner  knew  that  he  had  a  skilful  adver- 
sary to  deal  with ;  too  cunniug  to  allow  himself  to  be 
ii-ritated,  he  coolly  resolved  to  frighten  the  pontiff: 
that  was  in  his  uistructions.  On  the  Friday  before 
Palm  Sunday,  he  was  ushered  into  the  pope's  closet ; 
tliore  he  found  Clement  attended  by  Dc  Monte,  Sanc- 
torum Quatuor,  Simonetta,  Staffileo,  Paul,  auditor  of 
the  Rota,  and  Gambara.  "  It  is  impossible,"  said  the 
cardinals,  "  to  grant  a  decretal  commission  in  whieli 
the  pope  pronounces  de  jure  in  favour  of  the  divorce, 
with  a  promise  of  confirmation  de  facto."  Gardiner 
insisted ;  but  no  persuasion,  "  neither  dulce  nor  poy- 
nante,"  could  move  the  pontiff.  The  envoy  judged  the 
moment  had  come  to  discharge  his  strongest  battery. 
"  0  perverse  race,"  said  he  to  the  pontiff's  ministers, 
"  instead  of  being  as  harmless  as  doves,  you  are  as  full 
of  dissimulation  and  malice  as  serpents;  promising 
everything,  but  ]iei'forming  nothing.  England  will  be 
driven  to  belief'  tliiit  f^il  h:is  taken  from  you  the  key 
of  knowledge  ;  and  tlial  (lie  laws  of  the  popes,  ambi- 
guous to  the  p()|n.s  ihrmsclvos,  are  only  fit  to  be  cast 
into  the  fire.  The  king  has  hitherto  restrained  his 
people,  impatient  of  the  Romish  yoke,  but  he  will 
now  give  them  the  rein."  A  long  and  gloomy  silence 
followed.  Tlien  the  Englishman,  suddenly  changing 
his  tone,  softly  approached  Clement,  who  had  left  his 
seat,  and  conjured  him,  in  a  low  voice,  to  consider  care- 
fully what  justice  required  of  him.  "Alas!"  replied 
Clement,  "I  tell  you  again,  I  am  ignorant  in  these 
matters.  According  to  the  maxims  of  the  canon  law, 
the  jwpe  carries  all  laws  in  the  tablets  of  his  heart;  but, 
unfortunately,  God  has  never  given  me  l-ie  key  that 
opens  them."  As  he  covdd  not  escape  by  silence,  Cle- 
ment retreated  under  cover  of  a  jest,  and  heedlessly 
pronounced  the  condemnation  of  the  popedom.  If  he 
had  never  received  the  famous  Jcei/,  there  was  no  reason 
why  other  pontiffs  should  have  possessed  it.  The  next 
day  he  found  another  loophole ;  for  when  the  ambas- 
sadors told  him  that  the  king  would  carry  on  the 
matter  without  him,  ho  sighed,  drew  out  his  handker- 
chief, and  said  as  he  wiped  his  eyes  :  "  Would  to  God 
that  I  were  dead!"  Clement  employed  tears  as  a 
political  engine. 

"We  shall  not  got  tlie  dm-rtnl  commission,"  (that 
which  prono\iiici'd  iln'  ill\..rcc. )  aid  Fox  and  Gardiner 
after  this;  "and  it  i--  la.t  really  necessary.  Let  us 
demand  the  (/eiicral  cuninii.ssiou,  (authorizing  the  legates 
to  pi-onounce  it,)  and  exact  a  promise  that  shall  supply 
the  place  of  the  act  which  is  denied  us."  Clement, 
who  was  ready  to  make  all  the  promises  in  the  world, 
swore  to  ratify  the  sentence  of  the  legates  without 
delay.  Fox  and  Gardiner  then  presented  to  Simonetta 
a  draft  of  the  act  required.  The  dean,  after  reading  it, 
returned  it  to  the  envoys,  saying,  "  It  is  very  well,  I 
think,  except  the  end;  shew  it  to  Sanctorum  Quatuor." 
The  next  morning  they  carried  the  draft  to  that  car- 
dinal :  "  How  long  has  it  been  the  rule  for  the  patient 
to  write  the  prescription?  I  alwjys  thought  it  was  the 
physician's  business." — "  No  one  knows  the  disease  so 
well  as  the  patient,"  replied  Gardiner ;  "  and  this 
disease  may  be  of  such  a  nature  that  the  doctor  can- 
not prescribe  the  remedy  without  taking  the  patient's 
advice."  Sanctorum  Quatuor  read  the  prescription, 
and  then  retm-ned  it,  saying :  "  It  is  not  bad,  with  the 


exception  of  the  beginning.  Take  the  draft  to  De  ISIonte 
and  the  other  councillors."  TJie  latter  liked  neither 
beginning,  middle,  nor  end.  "  We  will  send  for  you 
this  evening,"  said  De  Monte. 

Three  or  four  days  having  elapsed,  Henry's  envoys 
again  waited  on  the  pope,  who  shewed  them  the  draft 
prepared  by  his  councillors.  Gardiner  remarking  in 
it  additions,  retrenchments,  and  corrections,  threw  it 
disdainfully  from  him,  and  said  coldly:  "  Your  holiness 
is  deceiving  us ;  you  have  selected  these  men  to  be  the 
instruments  of  your  duplicity."  Clement,  in  alarm, 
sent  for  Simonetta ;  and  after  a  warm  discussion,  tlie 
envoys,  more  discontented  than  ever,  quitted  the  pope 
at  one  in  the  morning. 

The  night  brings  wisdom.  "  I  only  desire  two  little 
words  more  in  the  commission,"  said  Gardiner  next 
day  to  Clement  and  Simonetta.  The  pope  requested 
Simonetta  to  wait  upon  the  cardinals  immediately;  the 
latter  sent  word  that  they  were  at  dinner,  and  ad- 
journed the  business  until  the  morrow. 

When  Gardiner  heard  of  this  epicurean  message, 
he  thought  the  time  had  come  for  striking  a  decisive 
blow.  A  new  tragedy  began.  "  We  are  deceived," 
exclaimed  he ;  "  you  are  laughing  at  us.  This  is  not 
the  way  to  gain  tlie  favour  of  princes.  Water  mixed 
with  wine  spoils  it ;  your  corrections  nullify  our  docu- 
ment. These  ignorant  and  suspicious  priests  have 
spelled  over  our  draft  as  if  a  scorpion  was  hidden 
under  every  word." — "  You  made  us  come  to  Italy," 
said  he  to  Staffileo  and  Gambara,  "like  hawks  which 
the  fowler  lures  by  holding  out  to  them  a  piece  of 
meat ;  and  now  that  we  are  here,  the  bait  has  disap- 
peared, and,  instead  of  giving  us  what  wo  sought,  you 
pretend  to  lidl  us  to  sleep  by  the  sweet  voice  of  the 
sirens."  Then,  turning  to  Clement,  the  English  envoy 
added :  "  Your  holiness  will  have  to  answer  for  this." 
The  pope  sighed,  and  wiped  away  his  tears.  "  It  was 
God's  pleasure,"  continued  Gardiner,  whose  tone  be- 
came more  threatening  eveiy  minute,  "  that  we  should 
see  with  our  own  eyes  the  disposition  of  the  people 
here.  It  is  time  to  have  done.  Henry  is  not  an  or- 
dinary prince, — bear  in  mind  that  you  are  insulting  the 
defender  of  the  faith.  .  ,  .  Y'ou  are  going  to  lose 
the  favour  of  the  only  monarch  who  protects  you  ;  and 
the  apostolical  chair,  already  tottering,  will  fall  into 
dust,  and  disappear  entirely  amidst  the  applause  of  all 
Christendom." 

Gardiner  paused.  The  pope  was  moved.  The  state 
of  Italy  seemed  to  confirm  but  too  strongly  the  sinister 
predictions  of  the  envoy  of  Henry  VHI.  The  imperial 
troops,  terrified  and  pursued  by  Lautrec,  had  aban- 
doned Rome  and  retired  on  Naples.  'I'he  French 
general  was  following  up  this  wretched  army  of 
Charles  V.,  decimated  by  pestilence  and  debauchery; 
Doria,  at  the  head  of  his  galleys,  had  destroyed  the 
Spanish  fleet ;  Gaeta  and  Naples  only  were  left  to 
the  imperialists ;  and  Lautrec,  who  "was  besieging  the 
latter  place,  wrote  to  Henry  on  the  26th  of  August, 
that  all  would  soon  be  over.  The  timid  Clement 
VU.  had  attentively  watched  all  these  catastrophes. 
Accordingly,  Gardiner  had  hardly  denounced  the  dan- 
ger which  threatened  tlie  popedom,  before  he  turned 
pale  with  affright,  rose  from  his  seat,  stretched  out  his 
arms  in  terror,  as  if  he  had  desii-ed  to  repel  some  mon- 


THE  COMMISSION  GRANTED. 


stcr  ready  to  devour  him,  and  exclaimed,  "  'Write, 
write!  Insert  whatever  words  you  please."  As  he 
said  this,  ho  paced  up  and  down  the  room,  raising  his 
hands  to  heaven  and  sij^liiiig  deeply,  while  Fox  and 
Gardiner,  standing  motionless,  looked  on  in  silence. 
A  tempestuous  wind  sci'inod  to  be  stirring  the  depths 
of  the  abyss ;  the  ambassadors  waited  until  the  storm 
was  abated.  At  last  Clement  recovered  himself,  made 
a  few  trivial  excuses,  and  dismissed  Henry's  ministers. 
It  was  an  hour  past  midnight. 

It  was  neither  morality,  nor  religion,  nor  even  the 
laws  of  the  church,  which  led  Clement  to  refuse  the 
divorce;  ambition  and  fear  were  his  only  motives. 
He  would  have  desired  that  Henry  should  first  con- 
strain the  emperor  to  restore  him  his  territories.  But 
the  King  of  England,  who  felt  himself  unable  to  pro- 
tect the  pope  against  Charles,  required,  however,  this 
luihappy  pontiff  to  provoke  the  emperor's  anger.  Cle- 
ment reaped  the  fruits  of  that  fatal  system  which  had 
transformed  the  Clnirch  of  Jesus  Christ  into  a  pitiful 
combination  of  policy  and  cunning. 

On  the  next  day,  the  tempest  having  thoroughly 
abated,  Sanctorum  Quatiior  corrected  the  commission. 
It  was  signed,  completed  by  a  leaden  seal  attached  to 
a  piece  of  string,  and  then  handed  to  Gardiner,  who 
read  it.  The  bull  was  addressed  to  Wolsey,  and 
"authorized  him,  in  case  he  should  acknowledge  the 
nullity  of  Henry's  marriage,  to  pronounce  judicially 
the  sentence  of  divorce,  but  without  noise  or  display 
of  judgment ;  for  that  purpose  he  might  take  any 
English  bishop  for  his  colleague." — "All  that  we  can 
do,  you  can  do,"  said  the  pope.  "  We  are  very  doubt- 
ful," said  the  importunate  Gardiner,  after  reading  the 
bull,  "  whether  this  commission,  without  the  clauses 
of  confirmation  and  revocation,  will  satisfy  his  majesty; 
but  we  will  do  all  in  our  power  to  get  him  to  accept 
it." — "Above  all,  do  not  speak  of  our  altercations," 
said  the  pope.  Gardiner,  like  a  discreet  diplomatist,  did 
not  scruple  to  note  down  eveiy  particular  in  cipher, 
in  the  letters  whence  these  details  are  procm-ed.  "Tell 
the  king,"  continued  the  pontiff,  "that  this  commission 
is  on  my  part  a  declaration  of  war  against  the  em- 
peror, and  that  I  now  place  myself  under  his  majesty's 
protection."  The  chief-almoner  of  England  departed 
for  Loudon  with  the  precious  document. 

But  one  storm  followed  close  upon  another.  Fox 
had  not  long  quitted  Orvicto  when  new  letters  arrived 
from  Wolsey,  demanding  the  fourth  of  the  acts 
previously  requested,  namely,  the  engagement  to  ratify 
at  Rome  whatever  the  commissioners  might  decide  in 
England.  Gardiner  was  to  set  about  it  in  season  and 
out  of  season;  the  verbal  promise  of  the  pope  counted 
for  nothing ;  this  document  must  be  had,  whether  the 
pope  was  ill,  dying,  or  dead.  "J^Ji/o  et  Hex  mens — his 
majesty  and  I  command  you,"  said  Wolsey;  "this 
divorce  is  of  more  consequence  to  us  than  twenty 
popedoms."  The  English  envoy  renewed  their  de- 
mand. "  Since  you  refuse  the  decretal,"  he  said, 
"  there  is  the  greater  reason  why  you  should  not 
refuse  the  engagement."  This  application  led  to  fi-esh 
discussion  and  fresh  tears.  Clement  gave  way  once 
more;  but  the  Italians,  more  crafty  than  Gardiner, 
reserved  a  loophole  in  the  document  through  which 
the  pontiff  might  escape.     The  messenger  Thaddeus 


carried  it  to  London ;  and  Gardiner  left  Orvieto  for 
Rome,  to  confer  with  Campeggio. 

Clement  was  a  man  of  penetrating  mind ;  and  al- 
though he  knew  as  well  as  any  how  to  deliver  a 
clever  speech,  he  was  irresolute  and  timid;  and, 
accordingly,  the  commission  had  not  long  been  des- 
patched before  he  repented.  Full  of  distress,  he  paced 
the  ruined  chambers  of  his  old  palace,  and  inuigined 
he  saw  hanging  over  his  head  that  terrible  sword  of 
Charles  the  Fifth,  whose  edge  he  had  already  felt. 
"  Wretch  that  I  am,"  said  ho  ;  "  cruel  wolves  surround 
me ;  thoy  open  their  jaws  to  swallow  me  up.  .  .  . 
I  see  none  but  encniios  around  me.  At  theii-  head  is 
the  emperor.  .  .  .  AVhat  will  he  do?  Alas!  I 
have  yielded  that  fatal  commission  which  the  general 
of  the  Spanish  observance  had  enjoined  me  to  refuse. 
Behind  Charles  come  the  Venetians,  the  Florentines, 
the  Duke  of  Ferrara.  .  .  .  They  have  cast  lots 
upon  my  vesture.  .  .  .  Next  comes  the  King  of 
France,  who  promises  nothing,  but  looks  on  with  folded 
arms;  or  rather,  what  perfidy!  calls  upon  me  at  this 
critical  moment  to  deprive  Charles  V.  of  his  crown. 
.  .  .  And  last,  but  not  least,  Henry  VIIL,  t/te 
defender  of  the  faith,  indulges  in  frightful  menaces 
against  me.  .  .  .  The  emperor  desires  to  main- 
tain the  queen  on  the  throne  of  England ;  the  latter, 
to  put  her  away.  .  .  .  AVould  to  God  that  Cathe- 
rine wore  in  her  grave!  But,  alas!  she  lives  .  . 
to  be  the  apple  of  discord — dividing  the  two  greatest 
monarchies — and  the  inevitable  cause  of  the  ruin  of 
the  popedom.  .  .  .  Wretched  man  that  I  am ! 
how  cruel  is  my  perplexity;  and  around  me,  I  can  see 
nothing  but  horrible  confusion." 


CHAPTER  XI. 


an— He  deraaiias  the 
s— He  sets  his  Con- 
's new  perfidy— The 
•ts  Religious  Liberty 
IS  invited— Wo]sey*3 
grants  all— Wolsey 


Fox's  Report  to  Henry  and  Anno— 
Decretal— One  of  the  CardiiKiI'- 
sdence  at  Best— Gardiner  in: 
King's  Anger  against  the  r  ■; 
— Immorality  of  Ultramontan. 
last  Flight— Energetic  Ell'orts  a 
trinmrlis— Union  of  Rome  and  1 


■DuRiKG  this  time  Fox  was  making  his  way  to  Eng- 
land. On  the  27th  of  April  he  reached  Paris ;  on  the 
2nd  of  May  he  landed  at  Sandwich,  and  hastened  to 
Greenwich,  where  he  arrived  the  next  day  at  five  in 
the  evening,  just  as  Wolsey  had  left  for  London. 
Fox's  arrival  was  an  event  of  great  importance.  "  Let 
him  go  to  Lady  Anne's  apartments,"  said  the  king, 
"and  wait  for  me  there."  Fox  told  Anne  Boleyn  of 
his  and  Gardiner's  exertions,  and  the  success  of  their 
mission,  at  which  she  expressed  her  veiy  great  satis- 
faction. Indeed,  more  than  a  year  had  elapsed  since 
her  return  to  England,  and  she  no  longer  resisted 
Henry's  project.  "  Slistress  Anne  always  called  me 
Master  Stephen,"  wrote  Fox  to  Gardiner,  "her  thoughts 
were  so  full  of  you."  The  king  appeared,  and  Anne 
withdrew. 

"  Tell  me  as  briefly  as  possible  what  you  have  done," 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


said  Henry.  Fox  placed  in  the  king's  hands  the  pope's 
iusignifieant  letter,  which  he  bade  his  almoner  read ; 
then  that  from  Staflileo,  which  was  put  on  one  side ; 
and,  lastly,  Gardiner's  letter,  which  Hcniy  took  hastily 
and  read  himself.  "  The  pope  has  promised  us,"  said 
Fox,  as  he  terminated  his  report,  "  to  confirm  the 
sentence  of  the  divorce,  as  soon  as  it  has  been  pro- 
nounced by  the  commissioners." — "  Excellent !  "  ex- 
claimed Henry;  and  then  ho  ordered  Anne  to  be 
called  in.  "  Kepeat  before  this  lady,"  he  said  to  Fox, 
"  what  you  have  just  told  me."  The  almoner  did  so. 
"  The  pope  is  convinced  of  the  justice  of  your  cause," 
he  said  in  conclusion ;  "  and  tlie  cardinal's  letter  has 
convinced  him  that  my  lady  is  worthy  of  the  throne  of 
England."  "  Make  your  report  to  Wolsey  this  very 
night,"  said  the  king. 


It  was  ten  o'clock  when  the  chief  almoner  reached 
the  cardinal's  palace ;  he  had  gone  to  bed,  but  imme- 
diate orders  were  given  that  Fox  should  be  conducted 
to  his  room.  Being  a  churchman,  Wolsey  could  un- 
derstand the  pope's  artifices  better  than  Henry;  ac- 
cordingly, as  soon  as  he  learnt  that  Fox  had  brought 
the  commission  only,  he  became  alarmed  at  the  task 
iiiiposed  upon  him.  "What  a  misfortune!"  he  ex- 
chumcd;  "your  commission  is  no  better  than  Gam- 
bara's.  .  .  .  However,  go  and  rest  yourself;  I 
will  examine  these  papers  to-morrow."  Fox  withdrew 
in  confusion.  "It  is  not  bad,"  said  Wolsey  the  next 
day;  "but  the  whole  business  still  falls  on  me  alone! 


Never  mind,  I  must  wear  a  contented  look,  or  else 
.  .  ."  In  the  afternoon  he  summoned  into  his  closet 
Fox,  Dr.  Bell,  and  Viscount  Rochford :  "  Master 
Gardiner  has  surpassed  himself,"  said  the  crafty, 
supple  cardinal ;  "  What  a  man  I  what  an  inestimable 
treasure  !  what  a  jewel  in  our  kingdom  ! " 

He  did  not  mean  a  word  he  was  saying.  Wolsey 
was  dissatisfied  with  everything, — with  the  refusal  of 
the  ih'cretal,  and  with  the  drawing  up  of  the  commission, 
as  well  as  of  the  engagement,  (which  arrived  soon  after, 
in  good  condition,  so  far  as  the  outside  was  concerned.) 
But  the  king's  ill  humour  would  infallibly  recoil  on 
Wolsey;  so  putting  a  good  face  on  a  bad  matter,  he 
ruminated  in  secret  on  the  means  of  obtaining  what 
had  been  refused  him.  "  Write  to  Gardiner,"  said  he 
to  Fox,  "  that  everything  makes  me  desire  the  pope's 
decretal — the  need  of  unburdening  my  conscience,  of 
being  able  to  reply  to  the  calumniators  who  will  attack 
my  judgment,  and  the  thought  of  the  accidents  to 
^vliich  the  life  of  man  is  exposed.  Let  his  holiness, 
then,  pronounce  the  divorce  himself;  we  engage  on 
I'lir  part  to  kec|">  his  resolution  secret.  But  order 
Masti'i'  Stciilicii  to  ciHiiliiy  every  kind  of  persuasion 
iliai  liis  /■/(. /.-/vr  can  iiiKi'jiiii'."  In  case  the  pope 
-liduld  ij(.>ili\cly  rrtii-~c  tlir  decretal,  Wolsey  required 
at  at  least  Campeggio  should  share  the  responsibility 
1  if  the  divorce  with  liim. 

This  was  not  all :   while  reading  the   engagement, 

W'cilscy   discovered  the    loophole  which  had  escaped 

( iiLi-ilinei-.  iiihI  tills  is  what  he  contrived: — "Tliecn- 

i/ih/< limit  which   the  pope  has   sent  us,"  he  wrote  to 

Gardiner,   '"is  drawn   up   in   such  tci-nis  that   he  can 

I'ctract  it  at  pleasure;  we  must  tlier(  ime  ilnd  some 

good  urii/  to  obtain  another.     Yuu  inay  do  il  under  this 

■etence.     You  will  appear  before  his  holiness  with  a 

'jected  air,  and  tell  him  that  the  courier,  to  whom 

lie  conveyance  of  the  said  engagement  was  intrusted, 

fell  into  the  water  with  his  despatches,   so   that  the 

e-cri|its   were   totally   defaced    and  illegible;    that  I 

ia\e   not   dared  deliver  it  into  the  king's  hands;  and 

mil    -  his  holiness  will  grant  yon   a  duplicate,  some 

loialile  lilame  will  be  imputed  unto  you  for  not  taking 

Hit,  I  caie  in  its  transmission.     And  further,  you  will 

■oiiiinue:  I  remember  the  expressions  of  the  former 

loeinient,  and  to   save  your  holiness  trouble,  I  will 

etalc  them  to  your  secretary.    Then,"  added  Wolsey, 

u  hile  the  secretary  is  writing,  you  will  find  means  to 

li-odiicc,  without   its  lieliiu;   |ici-celved,  as  many  fat, 

njiiitiil.   and   a\ailal.le  wonl-   as    po-Mlde,  to  bind  the 

|io|ie   and   ciilarue   niy   powiis;    llic   [lolitic  handling  of 

whii-h  the  Isiuu's  highness   and  1  couunit  unto  your 

Snch  was  the  expedient  invented  by  Wolsey.  Tlio 
pa|ial  .-eeieiai\-,  imagining  ho  was  making  a  fresh  coj)y 
of  the  ori-inal  (l.Humeiit.  (which  was,  by  the  way,  in 
ixaleil  comlilion.)  was,  at  the  dictation  of  tlie  ambas- 
sador, to  draw  up  another  of  a  different  tenor.  The 
"  politic  handling  "  of  the  cardinal-legate,  wdiieh  was 
not  very  unlike  forgery,  throws  a  disgraceful  light  on 
the  policy  of  the  sixteenth  century. 

Wolsey  read  this  letter  to  the  chief-almoner;  and 
then,  to  set  his  conscience  at  rest,  he  added  piously: 
"  In  an  affair  of  such  high  importance,  on  which  de- 
pends the  glory  or  the  ruin  of  the  realm, — my  honour 


WOLSEY'S  FRAUD  AND  HYPOCRISY. 


or  my  ilisfjracc — the  comlomiiation  of  my  soul,  or 
my  evorlii-stinr;  merit — 1  will  listen  sololy  to  the  voice 
of  my  conscience;  and  1  shall  ait  in  snch  a  manner  as 
to  be  able  to  render  au  accoiuit  to  God  without  fear." 

■\Yolsey  did  more :  it  seems  (hat  the  boldness  of  his 
dechirations  reassured  liini  witli  rcjiard  to  (he  baseness 
of  his  works.  Being  at  Greenwich  on  (ho  following 
Sunday,  he  said  to  the  lung  in  (ho  i)resencc  of  Fox, 
IJ.ll,  Wolman,  and  Tuke :  "I  am  bound  (o  yoin-  roj-al 
pi'rson  more  (han  any  subject  ^Yas  ever  bound  (o  his 
]irincc.  I  am  ready  to  sacrilice  my  gcioiN,  my  IiI.kkI, 
my  life,  for  you.  .  .  .  But  my  obli,L:iiii"ii-  low  ai.ls 
God  are  grea(er  s(ill.  For  (hat  cause,  rallii  r  tlian  a<t 
against  His  will,  I  would  endure  the  cxtremest  evils. 
iWould  suffer  your  royal  indiguation,  and,  if  necessary, 
deliver  my  body  to  the  executioners,  (hat  they  may 
cut  it  in  pieces."  What  couhl  be  the  spirit  then  im- 
))elliug  Wolsey?  Was  it  blindness  or  impudence? 
lie  may  have  been  sincere  in  tlie  words  he  addressed 
to  Henry;  at  the  bottom  of  his  heart  he  may  have 
desired  to  set  the  pope  above  the  king,  and  the  Church 
of  Rome  above  (he  kingdom  of  England;  and  this 
desire  may  have  appeared  to  him  a  sublime  virtue, 
snch  as  would  hide  a  multitude  of  sins.  What  the 
public  conscience  would  have  called  treason,  was 
heroism  to  the  Romish  priest.  This  zeal  for  the 
papacy  is  some(imes  met  with  in  conjunc(ion  wi(h  the 
most  flagrant  immorality.  If  Wolsey  deceived  the 
]>ope,  it  was  to  save  popi^ry  in  the  realm  of  England. 
Fox,  Bell,  Wolman,  and  ■ruke,  li-teiied  to  him  -with 
astonishment.  Henry,  wli"  lli'iuulil  he  knew  his  man, 
received  these  holy  declarations  witli.iut  alarm;  and  the 
cardinal  having  thus  eased  his  conscience,  proceeded 
boldly  in  his  iniquities.  It  seems,  however,  that  the 
inward  reproaches  which  he  silenced  in  public,  had 
theii-  revenge  in  secret.  One  of  his  officers  entering 
his  closet  shortly  afterwards,  presented  a  letter  ad- 
dressed to  Campeggio  for  his  signatiu-e.  It  ended 
thus :  "  I  hope  all  things  shall  be  done  according  (o 
the  will  of  God,  the  desire  of  the  king,  the  quiet  of 
the  kingdom,  and  to  om"  honour,  ivith  a  rjood  conscience." 
The  cardinal  having  read  the  letter,  dashed  out  the 
four  last  words.  Conscience  has  a  sting  from  which 
none  can  escape — not  even  a  Wolsey. 

However,  Gardiner  lost  no  time  in  Italy.  When  he 
met  Campeggio,  (to  whom  Ileiuy  VIU.  had  given  a 
palace  at  Rome  and  a  bishopric  in  England.)  he  en- 
treated him  (0  CO  to  London  and  |irononnre  tlio  divorce. 
This  prelate,  who  w:i-  i,.  I,.'  iiii|,ou^i-,  ,1,  in  l.'i.'il),  with 
authorhy  to  cni-li  rioi,-t;iiiii-iii  i;i  (  oiinany,  seemed 
bound  to  undertake  a  iiiissioa  tiiat  would  sa\  e  Roman- 
ism in  Britain.  But  proud  of  his  position  at  Rome, 
where  he  acted  as  the  pope's  represen(a(ivc,  he  cared 
not  for  a  charge  that  would  undoubtedly  draw  upon 
hira  either  Henry's  hatred  or  the  emperoi-'s  anger.  He 
begged  to  be  excused.  The  pope  spoke  in  a  similar 
tone.  When  he  was  informed  of  this,  the  terrible 
Tudor,  beginning  to  believe  that  Clement  desired  to 
entangle  liim,  as  (he  hunter  entangles  the  lion  in  his 
toils,  gave  vent  to  his  anger  on  Tuke,  Fox,  and  Gardi- 
ner, but  par(icularly  on  AVolsey.  Nor  were  reasons 
wanting  for  (his  explosion.  The  cardinal,  perceiving 
that  his  hatred  against  Charles  had  carried  him  too 
far,  pretended  that  it  was  without   his  orders  that 


Clarencieux,  bribed  by  France,  had  combined  with 
the  French  ambassador  to  declare  war  against  the 
emperor ;  and  added,  that  he  would  have  the  English 
king -at -arms  j)ut  to  death  as  he  passed  through 
Calais.  This  was  an  infallible  means  of  preventing 
disagreeable  revelations.  But  (he  herald,  who  had 
been  forewarned,  crossed  by  way  of  lloMloL'iie,  and, 
without  the  cardinal's  knowledge,  oblaine  1  an  inter- 
view with  Heniy  before  whom  he  plai<  d  llie  "/vA /•<  he 
had  received  from  AVolsey  in  three  conseeiui\<>  K-ltiTs. 
The  king,  astonished  at  his  minister's  impudence,  ex- 
claimed i)rofanely :  "  O  Lord  Jesu,  the  man  in  whom  I 
had  most  confidence  told  me  quite  the  contrary."  He 
flieu  summoned  Wolsey  before  him,  and  reproached 
him  severely  for  his  falsehoods.  The  wretched  man 
shook  like  a  leaf.  Henry  appeared  to  pardon  him,  but 
the  season  of  his  favour  had  passed  away.  Hencefor- 
ward he  kept  the  cardinal  as  one  of  those  instruments 
we  make  use  of  for  a  time,  and  then  throw  away  when 
we  have  no  further  need  of  them. 

The  king's  anger  against  the  pope  far  exceeded  that 
against  Wolsey ;  he  trembled  from  head  to  foot,  rose 
from  his  seat,  then  sat  down  again,  and  vented  his 
wrath  in  the  most  violent  language  :  "  What ! "  he  ex- 
claimed, "  I  shall  exhaust  my  political  combinations, 
empty  my  treasury,  make  war  upon  my  friends,  con- 
siune  my  forces,  .  .  .  and  for  whom  "I  .  .  .  for  a 
heartless  priest  who,  considering  neither  the  exigencies 
of  my  honour,  nor  the  peace  of  my  conscience,  nor 
the  prosperity  of  my  kingdom,  nor  the  numerous 
benefits  which  I  have  lavished  on  him,  refuses  me  a 
favour,  which  he  ought,  as  the  common  father  of  the 
faithful,  to  grant  even  to  an  enemy.  .  .  Hypocrite ! 
.  .  .  You  cover  yourself  wilh  the  cloak  of  friend- 
ship ;  you  flatter  us  by  crafty  pracdces ;  but  you  give 
us  only  a  bastard  document,  and  you  say  like  Pilate, 
It  matters  little  to  me  if  this  king  perishes,  and  all  his 
kingdom  with  him ;  take  him  and  judge  him  accord- 
ing to  your  law !  .  .  .  I  understand  you ;  .  .  . 
you  wish  to  entangle  us  in  the  briers,  to  catch  us  in  a 
trap,  to  liu-e  us  into  a  pitfall.  .  .  .  But  we  have 
discovered  the  snare ;  we  shall  escape  from  your  am- 
buscade, and  brave  your  power." 

Such  was  the  language  then  heard  at  the  court  of 
England,  says  an  historian.  The  monks  and  priests 
began  to  grow  alarmed ;  while  the  most  eidighteued 
minds  already  saw  in  the  distance  (he  first  gleams  of 
religious  liberty.  One  day,  at  a  time  when  Henry 
was  proving  himself  a  zealous  follower  of  the  Romish 
doctrines.  Sir  Thomas  More  was  sit(ing  in  the  midst  of 
his  family,  when  his  son-in-law.  Roper,  now  become  a 
warm  papist,  exclaimed:  "Happy  kingdom  of  England, 
where  no  heretic  dare  shew  Ids  face!" — "That  is  true, 
son  Roper,"  said  More ;  "  we  seem  to  sit  now  upon  the 
mountains,  treading  the  heretics  under  our  feet  like 
ants ;  but  I  pray  God  that  some  of  us  do  not  live  to 
see  tlie  day  when  we  gladly  would  wish  to  be  at  league 
with  (hem,  to  suffer  them  to  have  theu-  churches  quietly 
(o  (hemselvcs,  so  that  they  would  be  content  to  let  us 
have  ours  peaceably  to  ourselves."  Roper  angrily  re- 
plied :  "  By  my  word,  sir,  that  is  very  desperately 
spoken ! "  More,  however,  was  in  the  right ;  genius  ij 
sometimes  a  great  diviner.  The  Reformation  was  on 
the  point  of  inaugm-ating  religious  liberty,  and  by  that 
2x 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


pla 


fivil  lilserty  on  an  immoveable  fouuda- 


Heuiy  himself  grew  wiser  by  degrees.  He  began  to 
have  doubts  about  the  Roman  hierarchy,  and  to  ask 
himself,  whether  a  priest-king,  embarrassed  in  all  the 
politicoal  complications  of  Europe,  could  be  the  head 
of  the  Chui-ch  of  Jesus  Christ.  Pious  individuals  in 
his  kingdom  recognised  in  Scripture  and  in  conscience 
a  laAV  superior  to  the  law  of  Rome,  and  refused  to 
sacrifice  at  the  command  of  the  church  their  moral 
convictions,  sanctioned  by  the  revelation  of  God.  The 
hieru/chical  system,  which  claims  to  absorb  man  in  the 
papacy,  had  oppressed  the  consciences  of  Christians  for 
centuries.  When  the  Romish  Church  had  required 
from  such  as  Berengarius,  John  Huss,  Savonarola, 
John  "Wesel,  and  Luther,  the  denial  of  their  con- 
sciences enlightened  by  the  "Word,  that  is  to  say,  by 
the  voice  of  God,  it  had  shewn  most  clearly  how  gi-eat 
is  the  immorality  of  ultramontane  socialism.  "  If  the 
Christian  consents  to  this  enormous  demand  of  the 
hierarchy,"  said  the  most  enlightened  men ;  "  if  he 
renounces  his  own  notions  of  good  and  evil  in  favour 
of  the  clergy;  if  he  reserves  not  his  right  to  obey  God, 
who  speaks  to  him  in  the  Bible,  rather  than  men,  even 
if  their  agreement  were  universal ;  if  Heniy  VIII.,  for 
instance,  should  sUence  his  conscience,  which  condemns 
his  union  with  his  brother's  widow,  to  obey  the  clerical 
voice  which  approves  of  it ;  by  that  veiy  act  he  re- 
nounces truth,  duty,  aud  even  God  himself."  But  we 
must  add,  that  if  the  rights  of  conscience  were  begin- 
ning to  be  understood  in  England,  it  was  not  about 
such  holy  matters  as  these  that  the  pope  and  Henry 
were  contending.  They  were  both  intriguers ;  both 
dissatisfied;  the  one  desirous  of  love,  the  other  of  power. 

Be  that  as  it  may,  a  feeling  of  disgust  for  Rome 
then  took  root  in  the  king's  heart,  and  nothing  could 
afterwards  eradicate  it.  He  immediately  made  eveiy 
exertion  to  attract  Erasmus  to  London.  Indeed,  if 
Henry  separated  from  the  pope,  his  old  friends,  the 
Humanists,  must  be  his  auxiliaries,  and  not  the  hereti- 
cal doctors.  But  Erasmus,  in  a  letter  dated  1st  June, 
alleged  the  weak  state  of  his  health,  the  robbers  who 
infested  the  roads,  the  wars  and  rumours  of  wars  then 
afloat.  "  Our  destiny  leads  us,"  he  said ;  "  let  us  yield 
to  it."  It  is  a  fortunate  thing  for  England  that  Eras- 
mus was  not  its  reformer. 

"Wolsey  noted  this  movement  of  his  master's,  and 
resolved  to  make  a  strenuous  effort  to  reconcile  Cle- 
ment and  Heniy;  his  own  safety  was  at  stake.  He 
wrote  to  the  pope,  to  Campoggio,  to  Da  Casale,  to  aU 
Italy.  He  declared,  that  if  he  was  ruined  the  popedom 
would  be  ruined  too,  so  far  at  least  as  England  was 
concerned  :  "  I  would  obtain  the  decretal  bull  with  my 
own  blood,  if  possible,"  he  added.  "  Assure  the  holy 
father  on  my  life  that  no  mortal  eye  shall  see  it." 
Finally,  he  ordered  the  chief-almoner  to  write  to  Gar- 
diner: "If  Campeggio  does  not  come,  you  shall  never 
return  to  England;"  an  infallible  means  of  stimulating 
the  secretary's  zeal. 

This  was  the  last  effort  of  Heniy  VIH.  Bom-bon 
and  the  Prince  of  Orange  had  not  employed  more  zeal 
a  year  before  in  scaling  the  walls  of  Rome.  Wolsey's 
fire  had  inflamed  his  agents;  they  argued,  entreated, 
stormed,  and  threatened.     The  alarmed  cardinals  and 


theologians,  assembling  at  the  pope's  call,  discussed  the 
matter,  mixing  political  interests  with  the  affairs  of 
the  Church.  At  last  they  understood  what  Wolsey  now 
communicated  to  them.  "  Henry  is  the  most  energetic 
defender  of  the  faith,"  they  said.  "It  is  only  by 
acceding  to  his  demand  that  we  can  preserve  the 
kingdom  of  England  to  the  popedom.  The  army  of 
Charles  is  in  full  flight,  and  that  of  Francis  triumphs." 
The  last  of  these  arguments  decided  the  question ;  the 
pope  suddenly  felt  a  great  sympathy  for  Wolsey  and 
for  t-he  English  Chiu'ch ;  the  emperor  was  beaten ;  there- 
fore he  was  wrong.     Clement  granted  everything. 

First,  Campeggio  was  desired  to  go  to  London.  The 
pontiff  knew  that  he  might  reckon  on  his  intelligence 
and  inflexible  adhesion  to  the  interests  of  the  hierarchy ; 
even  the  cardinal's  gout  was  of  use,  for  it  might  help 
to  innumerable  delays.  Next,  on  the  8th  of  June,  the 
pope,  then  at  Viterbo,  gave  a  new  commission,  by 
which  he  conferred  on  Wolsey  and  Campeggio  the 
power  to  declare  null  and  void  the  marriage  between 
Henry  and  Catherine,  with  lilierty  fi_>r  the  king  and 
queen  to  form  new  matrimonial  ties.  A  few  days  later 
he  signed  the  famous  decretal  by  which  he  himself 
annulled  the  marriage  between  Heniy  and  Catherine ; 
but  instead  of  intrusting  it  to  Gardiner,  he  gave  it  to 
Campeggio,  with  orders  not  to  let  it  go  out  of  his 
hands.  Clement  was  not  sure  of  the  course  of  events  : 
if  Charles  should  decidedly  lose  his  power,  the  bull 
would  be  published  in  the  face  of  Clmsteudom ;  if  he 
should  recover  it,  the  buU  would  be  burnt.  In  fact,  tlie 
flames  did  actually  consume,  some  time  afterwards,  this 
decree  which  Clement  had  wetted  with  his  tears  as  he 
put  his  name  to  it.  Finally,  on  the  23rd  of  July,  the 
pope  signed  a  valid  engagement,  by  which  he  declared 
beforehand,  that  all  retractation  of  these  acts  should 
be  null  and  void.  Campeggio  and  Gardiner  departed. 
Charles's  defeat  was  as  complete  at  Rome  as  at  Naide,, ; 
the  justice  of  his  cause  had  vanished  with  his  army. 

Nothing,  therefore,  was  wanting  to  Henry's  desires. 
He  had  Campeggio,  the  commission,  the  decretal  bull 
of  divorce  signed  by  the  pope,  and  the  engagement, 
giving  an  irrevocable  value  to  aU  those  acts.  AVolsey 
was  conqueror, — the  conqueror  of  Clement !  .  .  . 
He  had  often  wished  to  mount  the  restive  courser  of 
the  popedom,  and  to  guide  it  at  his  will,  but  each  time 
the  unruly  steed  had  thrown  him  from  the  saddle. 
Now  he  was  firm  in  his  seat,  aud  held  the  horse  in 
hand.  Thanks  to  Charles's  reverses,  he  was  master  at 
Rome.  The  popedom,  whether  it  was  pleased  or  not, 
must  take  the  road  he  had  chosen,  and  before  which  it 
had  so  long  recoUed.  The  king's  joy  was  unbounded, 
and  equalled  only  by  Wolsey's.  The  cardinal,  in  the 
fulness  of  his  heart,  wishing  to  shew  his  gratitude  to 
the  oflicers  of  the  Roman  court,  made  them  presents 
of  carpets,  horses,  and  vessels  of  gold.  All  near  Henry 
felt  the  effects  of  his  good  humour.  Anne  smiled ;  the 
court  indulged  in  amusements;  the  great  affair  wan 
about  to  be  accomplished ;  the  New  'Testament  to  be 
delivered  to  the  flames.  The  union  between  England 
and  the  popedom  appeared  confirmed  for  ever;  and  the 
victory  which  Rome  seemed  about  to  gain  in  the  British 
isles,  might  secure  her  triumph  in  the  west.  \mi\ 
omens!  far  different  were  the  events  in  the  womb 
of  the  future. 


TWO  SOUT!^  OF  TKACIIIXG. 


BOOK    XX, 


THE     TWO     DIVOKCES 


CHAPTER  I. 

Progifss  of  the  Reformation— Tlie  two  Divorces— Entreaties  to  Anne  Boleyn 
—The  Letters  in  the  Vatican— Henry  to  Anne— Henry's  Second  Letter 
-Third  — Fourth— Wolscy's  Ahirm  — His  ftuitless  Proceedings— lie 
tiirus-Tlie  Sweating  Sickness— Henry's  Fears— New  Letters  to  Anne— 
Anno  falls  Sick ;  her  Peace— Henry  writes  to  lier— Wolsej's  Terror— 
Canipeggio  docs  not  Arrive— All  dissemble  at  Coiu't. 

"While  England  seemed  binding  herself  to  the  court  of 
Rome,  the  general  course  of  the  Cliurch  and  of  the 
world  gave  stronger  presage  every  day  of  the  ap- 
proaching emancipation  of  Cliristendom.  The  respect 
which  for  so  many  centuries  had  hedged  in  tlic  Roman 
pontiff  was  everywhere  shaken ;  tlic  reform,  already 
firmly  established  in  several  states  of  Germany  and 
Switzerland,  was  extending  in  France,  the  Low  Coun- 
tries, and  Hungaiy;  and  beginning  in  Sweden,  Den- 
mark, and  Scotland.  The  south  of  Europe  appeared, 
indeed,  submissive  to  the  Romish  Church ;  but  Spain, 
at  lieart,  cared  little  for  the  pontifical  infallibility; 
and  even  Italy  began  to  inquire  whether  the  papal 
dominion  was  not  an  obstacle  to  her  prosperity.  Eng- 
land, notwithstanding  appearances,  was  also  going  to 
throw  off  tlie  j'oke  of  the  bishops  of  the  Tiber ;  and 
many  faithful  voices  might  already  be  heard,  demand- 
ing that  the  "Word  of  God  should  be  acknowledged  the 
supreme  authority  in  the  Church. 

The  conquest  of  Christian  Britain  by  the  papacy 
occupied  all  the  seventh  centuiy,  as  we  have  seen. 
The  sixteenth  was  the  counterpart  of  the  seventh. 
The  struggle  which  England  then  had  to  sustain,  in 
order  to  free  herself  from  the  power  that  had  enslaved 
her  during  nine  hundred  years,  was  full  of  sudden 
changes — like  those  of  the  times  of  Augustine  and 
Oswy.  This  struggle,  indeed,  took  place  in  each  of 
the  countries  where  the  Church  was  reformed;  but 
nowhere  can  it  be  traced,  in  all  its  diverse  phases,  so 
distinctly  as  in  Great  Britain.  The  positive  work  of 
the  Reformation — that  which  consisted  in  recovering 
the  truth  and  life  so  long  lost — was  nearly  the  same 
eveiywhere;  but  as  regards  the  negative  work — the 
struggle  with  the  popedom — we  might  almost  say  that 
other  nations  committed  to  England  the  task  by  which 
they  were  all  to  profit.  An  imenlightened  piety  may 
perhaps  look  vipon  the  relations  of  the  court  of  London 
with  the  com-t  of  Rome,  at  the  period  of  the  Reforma- 
tion, as  void  of  interest  to  the  faitli ;  but  history  will 
not  think  the  same.  It  has  been  too  often  forgotten, 
that  the  main  point  in  this  contest  was  not  the  divorce, 
(which  was  only  the  occasion,)  but  the  contest  itself 
and  its  important  consequences.  The  divorce  of  Henry 
Tudor  and  Catherine  of  Arragon  is  a  secondary  event ; 
but  the  divorce  of  England  and  the  popedom  is  a  pri- 
mary event,  one  of  the  gi-eatest  evolutions  of  histoiy. 


— a  creative  act  (so  to  speak)  which  still  exercises  a 
normal  influence  over  the  destinies  of  mankind.  And, 
accordingly,  everything  connected  with  it  is  full  of  in- 
struction for  lis.  Already  a  great  number  of  pious  men 
had  attached  themselves  to  the  authority  of  God ;  but 
the  king,  and  with  him  that  part  of  the  nation  strangers 
to  the  evangelical  faith,  clung  to  Rome,  which  Henry 
had  so  valiantly  defended.  The  "Word  of  God  had 
spiritually  separated  England  from  the  papacy;  the 
(jreat  matter  separated  it  materially.  Tiiere  is  a  close 
relationship  between  these  two  divorces,  which  gives 
extreme  importance  to  the  process  between  Henry  and 
Catherine.  "When  a  great  revolution  is  to  be  effected 
in  the  bosom  of  a  people,  (we  have  the  Reformation 
particularly  in  view,)  God  instructs  the  minority  by 
the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  the  majority  by  the  dispen- 
sations of  the  Divine  government.  Facts  undertake 
to  j)ush  forward  those  whom  the  more  spiritual  voice 
of  the  Word  leaves  behind.  England,  profiting  by 
this  great  teaching  of  facts,  has  thought  it  her  duty, 
ever  since,  to  avoid  all  contact  with  a  power  that 
had  deceived  Iier ;  she  has  thought  that  Popery  could 
not  have  the  dominion  over  a  people  without  infringing 
on  its  vitality;  and  that  it  was  only  by  emancipating 
themselves  from  this  priestly  dictatorship  that  modern 
nations  could  advance  safely  in  the  paths  of  liberty, 
order,  and  greatness. 

For  more  than  a  year,  as  Hemy's  complaints  testify, 
Anne  continued  deaf  to  his  homage.  The  despairing 
king  saw  that  he  must  set  other  springs  to  work,  and 
taking  Lord  Rochford  aside,  he  unfolded  his  plans  to 
him.  The  ambitious  father  promised  to  do  aU  in  his 
power  to  influence  his  daughter.  "  The  divorce  is  a 
settled  thing,"  he  said  to  her ;  "  you  have  no  control 
over  it.  The  only  question  is,  whether  it  shall  be  you 
or  another  who  shall  give  an  heir  to  the  crown.  Bear 
in  mind,  that  terrible  revolutions  threaten  England  if 
the  king  htis  no  son."  Thus  did  evciything  combine 
to  weaken  Anue's  resolution.  The  voice  of  her  father, 
the  interests  of  her  country,  the  king's  love,  and,  doubt- 
less, some  secret  ambition,  influenced  her  to  grasp  the 
proffered  sceptre.  These  thoughts  haunted  her  in 
society,  in  solitude,  and  even  iu  her  dreams.  At  one 
time  she  imagined  herself  on  the  throne,  distributing 
to  the  people  her  charities  and  the  "Word  of  God ;  at 
another,  in  some  obscure  exile,  leading  a  useless  life, 
in  tears  and  ignominy.  "Ulien,  in  the  sports  of  her 
imaguiation,  the  crown  of  England  appeared  all  glit- 
tering before  her,  she  at  first  rejected  it ;  but  afterwards, 
that  regal  ornament  seemed  so  beautiful,  and  the  power 
it  conferred  so  enviable,  that  she  repelled  it  less  ener- 
getically. Anne  still  refused,  however,  to  give  the  so 
ardently  solicited  assent. 

Henry,  vexed  by  her  hesitation,  wrote  to  her  frc- 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


qncntly,  and  almost  always  in  Frcucli.  As  the  court 
of  Rome  makes  use  of  these  letters,  which  are  kept  in 
the  Vatican,  to  abuse  the  Reformation,  we  think  it  our 
duty  to  quote  them.  The  theft  committed  by  a  cardi- 
nal has  preserved  them  for  us ;  and  we  shall  see  that, 
far  from  supporting  the  calumnies  that  have  been 
spread  abroad,  they  tend,  on  the  contrary,  to  refute 
tliem.  We  are  far  from  approving  their  contents  as  a 
whole ;  but  we  cannot  deny  to  the  young  lady  to  whom 
they  are  addressed,  the  possession  of  noble  and  generous 
sentiments. 


Henry,  unable  to  support  the  anguish  caused  by 
Anne's  refusal,  wrote  to  her,  as  it  is  generally  sup- 
posed, in  May,  1528: — 

"  By  revolving  in  my  mind  the  contents  of  your  last 
letters,  I  have  put  myself  into  great  agony,  not  know- 
ing how  to  interpret  them,  whether  to  my  disadvantage, 
as  I  understand  some  passages,  or  not,  as  I  conclude 
from  others.  I  beseech  you  earnestly  to  let  me  know 
your  real  mind  as  to  the  love  between  us  two.  It  is 
needful  for  me  to  obtain  this  answer  of  you,  having 
been  for  a  whole  year  wounded  with  the  dart  of  love, 
and  not  yet  assured  whether  I  shall  succeed  in  finding 
a  place  in  your  heart  and  affection.  This  imcertainty 
has  hindered  me  of  late  from  declaring  you  my  mis- 
tress, lest  it  should  prove  that  you  only  entertain  for 
me  an  ordinaiy  regard.  But  if  you  please  to  do  the 
duty  of  a  true  and  loyal  mistress,  I  promise  you,  that 
not  only  the  name  shall  be  given  to  you,  but  also  that 
I  will  take  you  for  my  mistress,  casting  off  all  others 
that  are  in  competition  with  you  out  of  my  thoughts 
and  affection,  and  serving  you  only.  I  beg  you  to 
give  an  entire  answer  to  this,  my  rude  letter,  that  I 
may  know  on  what  and  how  far  I  may  depend.  But 
if  it  does  not  please  you  to  answer  me  in  writing,  let 
me  know  some  place  where  I  may  have  it  by  word  of 


mouth,  and  I  will  go  thither  with  all  my  heart.  No 
more  for  fear  of  tiring  you.  Written  by  the  hand  of 
him  who  would  willingly  remain  yours, 

"  H.  Rex." 

Such  wore  the  affectionate,  and  we  may  add  (if  wo 
think  of  the  time  and  the  man)  the  respectful  terms 
employed  by  Henry  in  writing  to  Anne  Boleyn.  The 
latter,  without  making  any  promises,  betrayed  some 
little  affection  for  the  king,  and  added  to  her  reply  an 
emblematical  jewel,  representing  "  a  solitary  damsel  in 
a  boat  tossed  by  the  tempest,"  wishing  thus  to  make 
the  prince  understand  the  dangers  to  which  his  love 
exposed  her.  Henry  was  ravished,  and  inunediately 
replied : — 

"  For  a  present  so  valuable,  that  nothing  could  bo 
more,  (considering  the  whole  of  it,)  I  return  you  my 
most  hearty  thanks,  not  only  on  account  of  the  costly 
diamond,  and  the  ship  in  which  the  solitaiy  damsel  is 
tossed  about,  but  chiefly  for  the  fine  interpretation, 
and  the  too  humble  submission  which  your  goodness 
hath  made  to  me.  Your  favour  I  will  always  seek  to 
preserve,  and  this  is  my  Arm  intention  and  hope, 
according  to  the  matter,  cmt  illic  aut  nullibi. 

"  The  demonstrations  of  your  affections  are  such,  the 
fine  thoughts  of  your  letter  so  cordially  expressed,  that 
they  oblige  me  for  ever  to  honour,  love,  and  serve  you 
sincerely.  I  beseech  you  to  continue  in  the  same  firm 
and  constant  purpose,  and  assuring  you  that,  on  my 
part,  I  will  not  only  make  you  a  suitable  return,  but 
outdo  you,  so  great  is  the  loyalty  of  the  heart  that 
desires  to  please  you.  I  desire,  also,  that  if,  at  any 
time  before  this,  I  have  in  any  way  offended  you,  that 
you  would  give  me  the  same  absolutiou  that  you  ask, 
assuring  you,  that  hereafter  my  heart  shall  be  dedicated 
to  you  alone.  I  wish  my  person  were  so  too.  God 
can  do  it,  if  He  pleases,  to  wJiom  I  prai/  once  a-dwj  for 
that  end,  hoping,  that  at  length  mti  prai/ers  will  be  heard. 
I  wish  the  time  may  be  short,  but  I  shall  think  it  long 
till  we  see  one  another.  AYritten  by  the  hand  of  that 
secretary,  who  in  heart,  body,  and  will,  is 

"  Your  loyal  and  most  faithful  Servant, 

"H.  T.  Rex." 


,JA— -  m 


ANNE  CONSENTS  TO  MAEEY  HENRY. 


Heuiy  was  a  passionate  lover,  ami  history  is  not 
called  upon  to  vindicate  that  cruel  prince ;  but  in  the 
preceding  letter  wc  cannot  discover  the  language  of  a 
seducer.  It  is  impossible  to  imagine  the  king  praying 
to  God  once  a-day  for  anything  but  a  lawful  iniiou. 
These  daily  prayers  seem  to  ])roscnt  the  matter  iu  a 
different  light  from  that  which  Komanist  writers  have 
imagined. 

llcury  thought  himself  more  advanced  than  he  really 
was.  Anno  then  shrank  back;  embarrassed  by  the 
jmsition  she  licld  at  court,  she  begged  for  one  less 
elevated.  The  king  submitted,  although  very  vexed  at 
lirst : 

'•  Nevertheless  that  it  bclongeth  not  to  a  gentleman," 
he  wrote  to  her,  "  to  put  his  mistress  in  the  situation  of 
a  servant,  yet,  by  following  your  wishes,  I  would 
willingly  concede  it,  if  by  that  means  you  are  less 
uncomfortable  in  the  place  you  shall  choose  than  in 
tluit  where  you  have  been  placed  by  me.  I  thank  you 
most  cordially  that  you  arc  ijlcascd  still  to  bear  me  iu 
your  remembrance. 

"H.  T." 

Aune,  liavhig  retired  in  May  to  Ilevcr  Castle,  her 
father's  residence,  the  king  wrote  to  her  as  fol- 
lows : — 

"  My  ]\Iistress  and  my  Friend, 
"  My  heart  and  I  surrender  ourselves  into  your 
hands,  and  we  supplicate  to  be  commended  to  your 
good  graces,  and  that  by  absence  your  affections  may 
not  be  diminished  to  us.  For  that  would  bo  to  aug- 
ment our  pain,  which  would  be  a  gi-eat  pity,  since 
absence  gives  enough,  and  more  than  I  ever  thought 
could  be  felt.  This  brings  to  my  mind  a  fact  in  as- 
tronomy, which  is,  that  the  longer  the  days  are,  the 
farther  off  is  the  sun,  and  yet  the  more  scorcliing  is  his 
heat.  Thus  is  it  with  our  love ;  absence  has  placed 
distance  between  ns,  nevertheless  fervour  increases,  at 
least  on  my  part.  I  hope  the  same  from  you,  assuring 
yon,  that  in  my  case  the  anguish  of  absence  is  so  groat 
that  it  would  be  intolerable  were  it  not  for  the  firm 
hope  I  luxve  of  your  indissoluble  affection  towards  me. 
In  order  to  remind  you  of  it,  and  because  I  cannot  in 
person  be  in  your  presence,  I  send  you  the  thing  which 
comes  nearest  that  is  possible,  that  is  to  say,  my 
picture,  and  the  whole  device,  which  you  already  know 
of,  set  in  bracelets  ;  wishing  myself  in  their  place  when 
it  pleases  you.  This  is  from  the  hand  of 
"  Your  Servant  and  Friend, 

^'11.  T.  Rex." 

Pressed  by  her  father,  her  uncles,  and  by  Henry, 
Aime's  firmness  was  shaken.  That  crown,  rejected  by 
Itenee  and  by  Margaret,  dazzled  the  young  English- 
woman ;  every  day  she  found  some  new  charm  in  it ; 
and  gradually  familiarizing  herself  with  her  new  future, 
she  said  at  last :  "  If  the  king  becomes  free,  I  shall  be 
willing  to  marry  him."  This  was  a  great  faidt;  but 
Ileniy  was  at  the  height  of  joy. 

The  courtiers  watched  with  observant  eyes  these 
developments  of  the  king's  affection,  and  were  already 
preparing  the  homage  which  they  proposed  to  lay  at 


Anne  Boleyn's  feet.  But  there  was  one  man  at  court 
whom  Henry's  resolution  filled  with  sorrow;  this  was 
AVolsey.  He  had  been  the  first  to  suggest  to  the  king 
the  idea  of  separating  from  Catherine  ;  but  if  Anne  is 
to  succeed  her,  there  must  be  no  divorce.  He  had  first 
alienated  Catherine's  party;  he  was  now  going  to 
irritate  that  of  the  Boleyns ;  accordingly,  he  began  to 
fear,  that  whatever  might  be  the  issue  of  this  affair,  it 
would  cause  his  ruin.  He  took  frequent  walks  in  his 
park  at  Hampton  Court,  accompanied  by  the  French 
ambassador,  the  confidant  of  his  sori'ows :  "  I  would 
willingly  lose  one  of  my  fingers,"  he  said,  "  if  I  could 
only  have  two  hours'  conversation  with  the  King  of 
France."  At  another  time,  fancying  all  England  was 
pursuing  him,  he  said  with  alarm,  "  Tlie  king  my  master 
and  all  his  subjects  will  cry  murder  against  me ;  they 
will  fall  ui)on  me  more  fiercely  than  on  a  Turk,  and 
all  Christendom  will  rise  against  mo !"  The  next  day, 
Wolsey,  to  gain  the  French  ambassador,  gave  him  a 
long  history  of  what  he  had  done  for  France  against  the 
wis/ies  of  all  England.  "  I  need  much  dexterity  in  my 
affairs,"  he  added,  "  and  must  use  a  terrible  alchemij." 
But  alchemy  could  not  save  him.  Karcly  has  so  much 
anguish  been  vailed  beneath  such  grandeur.  Du  Bellay 
was  moved  with  pity  at  the  sight  of  the  unhappy  man's 
sufferings.  "When  he  gives  way,"  he  wrote  to  Mont- 
morency, "  it  lasts  a  day  together ; — he  is  continually 
sighing. — ^You  have  never  seen  a  man  in  such  anguish 
of  mind." 

Ill  truth,  Wolsey 's  reason  was  tottering.  That  fatal 
idea  of  the  divorce  was  the  cause  of  all  liis  woes;  and, 
to  be  able  to  recall  it,  he  would  have  given,  not  a,  finger 
only,  but  an  arm,  and  perhaps  more.  It  was  too  late ! 
lleniy  had  started  his  car  down  the  steep,  and  whoever 
attempted  to  stop  it  would  have  been  crushed  beneath 
its  wheels.  However,  the  cardinal  tried  to  obtain 
something.  Francis  I.  had  intercepted  a  letter  from 
Charles  V.,  in  which  the  emperor  spoke  of  the  divorce 
as  likely  to  raise  the  English  nation  in  revolt.  Wolsey 
caused  this  letter  to  be  read  to  the  king,  iu  the  hope 
that  it  would  excite  his  serious  apprehensions;  but 
Henry  only  frowned,  and  Du  Bellay,  to  whom  the 
monarch  ascribed  the  report  on  these  troubles  fore- 
boded by  Charles,  received  "  a  gentle  lash."  This  was 
the  sole  result  of  the  manoeuvre. 

Wolsey  now  resolved  to  broach  this  important  sub- 
ject in  a  straightforward  manner.  Tlie  step  might 
prove  his  ruin;  but  if  he  succeeded,  he  was  saved, 
and  the  popedom  with  him.  Accordingly,  one  day, 
(shortly  before  the  sweating  sickness  broke  out,  says 
Du  Bellay,  probably  in  June,  1528,)  Wolsey  openly 
prayed  the  king  to  renounce  his  design ;  his  own  repu- 
tation, he  told  bun,  the  ])ro.sperity  of  England,  the 
peace  of  Europe,  the  safely  of  the  church, — all  re- 
quired it;  besides,  the  pope  would  never  grant  the 
divorce.  While  the  cardinal  was  speaking,  Henry's 
face  grew  black ;  and  before  he  concluded,  the  king's 
auger  broke  out.  "The  king  used  terrible  words," 
said  Du  Bellay.  He  would  have  giveu  a  thousand 
AVolseys  for  one  Anne  Boleyn.  "  No  other  than  God 
shall  take  her  from  me,"  was  his  most  decided  resolu- 
tion. 

Wolsey,  now  no  longer  doubting  of  his  disgrace, 
began  to  take  his  measui-es  accordingly.     He  com- 


HISTORY  OP  THE  REFORMATION. 


mencod  building  in  several  places,  in  order  to  wlu  tlae 
affections  of  the  common  people ;  he  took  great  care 
of  liis  bishoprics,  in  order  that  they  might  ensure  him 
an  easy  retreat ;  he  -was  affable  to  the  courtiers ;  and 
thus  covered  the  earth  Tvith  flowers  to  deaden  his  fall. 
Then  he  would  sigh  as  if  he  were  disgusted  with 
honours,  and  would  celebrate  the  charms  of  solitude. 
He  did  more  than  this.  Seeing  plainly  that  the  best 
■way  of  recovering  the  king's  favour  Avould  be  to  con- 
ciliate Anne  Boleyn,  he  made  her  the  most  handsome 
presents,  and  assured  her  that  all  his  efforts  would  now 
be  directed  to  raise  her  to  the  throne  of  England. 
Anne,  believing  these  declarations,  rcjilied,  that  she 
would  help  him  iu  her  turn,  "  as  long  as  any  breath 
was  in  her  body."  Even  Henry  had  no  doubt  that  the 
cardinal  had  profited  by  his  lesson. 

Thus  were  all  parties  restless  and  uneasy,— Henry 
desiring  to  marry  Lady  Anne,  the  courtiers  to  get  rid 
of  Wolsey,  and  the  latter  to  remain  iu  power, — when 
a  serious  event  appeared  to  put  eveiy  one  in  harmony 
with  his  neighbour.  About  the  middle  of  June,  the 
terrible  sweating  sickness  {sudor  cingliciis)  broke  out  in 
England.  The  citizens  of  London,  "  thick  as  flies," 
said  Du  Bellay,  suddenly  feeling  pains  in  the  head  and 
heart,  rushed  from  the  streets  or  shops  to  their  cham- 
bers, began  to  sweat,  and  took  to  their  beds.  The 
disease  made  frightful  and  rapid  progress,  a  burning 
heat  preyed  on  their  limbs ;  if  they  chanced  to  uncover 
thomsolvcs  the  perspiration  ceased,  delirium  came  on, 
and  in  four  liours  the  victim  was  dead,  and  "  stiff  as  a 
wall,"  says  the  French  ambassador.  Every  family  was 
in  mourning.  Sir  Thomas  More,  kneeling  by  his 
daughter's  bedside,  burst  into  tears,  and  called  upon 
God  to  save  his  beloved  Margaret.  Wolsey,  who  was 
at  Hampton  Court,  suspecting  nothing  amiss,  arrived 
iu  London,  as  usual,  to  preside  in  the  court  of  Chancery; 
but  he  ordered  his  horses  to  be  saddled  again  imme- 
diately, and  rode  back.  In  four  days  2000  persons 
died  in  London. 

The  court  was  at  first  safe  from  the  contagion ;  but 
on  the  fourth  day  one  of  Anne  Boleyu's  ladies  was 
attacked :  it  was  as  if  a  thunderbolt  had  fallen  on  the 
palace.  The  king  removed  with  all  haste,  and  stayed 
at  a  jilace  twelve  miles  off,  for  he  was  not  prepared  to 
die.  He  ordered  Anne  to  return  to  her  father,  invited 
the  queen  to  join  him,  and  took  up  his  residence  at 
"Waltham.  Ilis  real  conscience  awoke  only  in  the 
presence  of  death.  Four  of  his  attendants  and  a  friar, 
Anne's  confessor,  as  it  would  appear,  falling  ill,  the 
king  departed  for  Ilunsdon.  He  had  been  there  two 
days  only,  when  Powis,  Carew,  Carton,  and  others  of 
his  court,  were  carried  off  iu  two  or  three  hours. 
Henry  liad  mot  an  enemy  whom  he  could  not  van- 
quish. He  quitted  the  place  attacked  by  the  disease  ; 
he  removed  to  another  quarter ;  and  when  the  sickness 
laid  hold  of  any  of  his  attendants  in  his  new  retreat, 
he  again  left  that  for  a  new  asylum.  Terror  froze  his 
blood;  he  wandered  about  pursued  by  that  terrible 
scythe  whose  sweep  might  perhaps  reach  him ;  he  cut 
off  all  communication,  even  with  his  servants ;  shut 
himself  up  in  a  room  at  the  top  of  an  isolated  tower ; 
ate  all  alone,  and  would  sec  no  one  but  his  physician  ; 
he  prayed,  fasted,  confessed,  became  reconciled  with 
the  queen;  took  the  sacrament  every  Sunday  and  feast 


day;  received  his  Maker,  to  use  the  words  of  a  gentle- 
man of  his  chamber ;  and  the  queen  and  "Wolsey  did 
the  same.  Nor  was  that  all :  his  councillor.  Sir  Brian 
Tuke,  was  sick  in  Essex  ;  but  that  mattered  not ;  the 
king  ordered  him  to  come  to  liira,  even  in  his  litter ; 
and  on  the  20th  of  June,  Honrj',  after  hearing  three 
masses,  (he  had  never  done  so  much  before  in  one  day,) 
said  to  Tuke :  "I  want  you  to  write  mi/  ivill."  He  was 
not  the  only  one  who  took  that  precaution.  "  There 
were  a  Imndred  ihonsanU  made,"  says  Du  Bellay. 

During  this  time  Anne,  iu  her  retirement  at  Hever, 
was  calm  and  collected ;  she  prayed  much,  particularly 
for  the  king  and  for  Wolsey.  But  Henry,  far  less 
submissive,  was  very  anxious.  "The  uneasiness  my 
doubts  about  yoin*  health  gave  me,"  he  wrote  to  her, 
"disturbed  and  frightened  me  exceedingly;  but  now, 
since  you  have  as  yet  felt  nothing,  I  hope  it  is  ■with 
you  as  it  is  with  us.  .  .  I  beg  you,  my  entirely  be- 
loved, not  to  frighten  yourself,  or  be  too  uneasy  at  our 
absence,  for  wherever  I  am,  1  am  yours.  And  yet  we 
must  sometimes  submit  to  our  misfortunes,  for  whoever 
will  struggle  against  fate,  is  generally  but  so  much  the 
farther  from  gaining  his  end.  "Wherefore,  comfort 
yom-self  and  take  courage,  and  make  this  misfortune 
as  easy  to  you  as  you  can." 

As  he  received  no  news,  Hemy's  uneasiness  in- 
creased ;  he  sent  to  Anne  a  messenger  and  a  letter : 
"  To  acquit  myself  of  the  duty  of  a  tnie  servant,  I  send 
you  this  letter,  beseeching  you  to  apprise  me  of  your 
welfare,  which  I  pray  may  continue  as  long  as  I  desire 
mine  own." 

Henry's  fears  were  well  founded ;  the  malady  be- 
came more  severe ;  in  four  liours  eighteen  persons  died 
at  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury's ;  Anne  Boleyn  her- 
self, and  her  brother,  also  caught  the  infection.  The 
king  was  exceedingly  agitated ;  Anne  alone  appeared 
calm ;  the  strength  of  her  cbaracter  raised  her  above 
exaggerated  fears,  but  her  enemies  ascribed  her  calm- 
ness to  other  motives.  "  Her  ambition  is  stronger  than 
death,"  they  said.  "The  king,  queen,  and  cardinal 
tremble  for  their  lives,  but  she  ,  .  .  she  would 
die  content  if  she  died  a  queen."  Henry  once  more 
changed  his  residence.  All  the  gentlemen  of  his  privy- 
chamber  were  attacked  with  one  exception :  "  he  re- 
mained alone,  keeping  himself  apart,"  says  Du  Bellay, 
and  confessed  eveiy  day.  He  wrote  again  to  Anne, 
sending  her  his  physician.  Dr.  Butts  :  "The  most  dLs- 
pleasing  news  that  could  occur  came  to  me  suddenly  at 
night.  On  three  accounts  I  must  lament  it.  One,  to 
hear  of  the  illness  of  my  mistress,  whom  I  esteem  more 
than  all  the  world,  and  whose  health  I  desire  as  I  do 
my  own.  I  woidd  willingly  bear  half  of  what  you 
suffer  to  cure  you.  The  second,  from  the  fear  that 
I  sliall  have  to  endure  my  wearisome  absence  much 
longer,  which  has  hitherto  given  mo  all  the  vexation 
that  was  possible ;  and  when  gloomy  thoughts  fill  my 
mind,  then  I  pray  God  to  remove  far  from  me  such 
troublesome  and  rebellious  ideas.  The  third,  because 
my  physician,  in  whom  I  have  most  confidence,  is 
absent.  Yet,  from  the  want  of  him,  I  send  you  my 
second,  and  hope  that  he  Avill  soon  make  you  well.  I 
shall  then  love  him  more  than  ever.  I  beseech  you  to 
bo  guided  by  his  advice  iu  your  illness.  By  your  doing 
this  I  hope  soon  to  see  you  again,  which  will  be  to  mo 


THE  SWEATING  SICKNESS. 


a  greater  comfort  than  all  the  precious  jewels  in  the 
world." 

The  jiostilence  soon  broke  out  with  more  violonce 
around  Henry;  he  lied  in  alarm  to  Hatfield,  taking 
with  him  only  the  gentlemen  of  his  chamber;  he  next 
quitted  this  place  for  Tittenhanger,  a  house  belonging 
to  "Wolsey,  witence  lie  commanded  general  processions 
throughout  the  kingdom,  in  order  to  avert  this  scourge 
of  God.  At  the  same  time  he  wrote  to  Wolsey:  "As 
soon  as  any  one  falls  ill  in  the  place  where  you  arc, 
fly  to  another ;  and  go  thus  from  place  to  place."  The 
poor  cardinal  was  still  more  alarmed  than  Henry.  As 
soon  as  he  felt  the  slightest  perspiration,  he  fancied 
himself  a  dead  man.  "  I  entreat  your  highness,"  he 
wrote  trembling  to  the  king,  on  the  5th  of  Jidy,  "  to 
shew  yourself  full  of  pity  for  my  soul ;  these  are,  per- 
haps, the  last  words  I  shall  address  to  you ;  .  .  . 
the  whole  world  will  see  by  my  last  testament  that  you 
have  not  bestowed  your  favour  upon  an  ungi-ateful 
man."  The  king,  perceiving  that  Wolsey's  mind  was 
affected,  bade  him  "  put  apart  fear  and  fantasies,"  and 
wear  a  cheerful  humour  in  the  midst  of  death. 

At  last  the  sickness  began  to  diminish,  and  imme- 
diately the  desire  to  see  Anne  revived  in  Henry's 
bosom.  On  the  18th  of  August  she  re-appeared  at 
court,  and  all  the  king's  thoughts  were  now  bent  on 
the  divorce. 

But  this  business  seemed  to  proceed  in  inverse  ratio 
to  his  desires.  There  was  no  news  of  Campeggio ;  was 
he  lost  in  the  Alps  or  at  sea?  Did  his  gout  detain 
him  in  some  village,  or  was  the  announcement  of  his 
departure  only  a  feint?  Anne  Boleyn  herself  was 
uneasy,  for  she  attached  great  importance  to  Cam- 
peggio's  coming.  If  the  Church  annulled  the  king's 
first  marriage,  Anne,  seeing  the  principal  obstacle  re- 
moved, thought  she  might  accept  Heniy's  hand.  She 
therefore  wrote  to  Wolsey:  '-J  long  to  hear  from  you 
news  of  the  legate,  for  I  do  hope  (an'  they  come  from 
you)  they  shall  be  very  good."  The  king  added  in  a 
postscript :  "  The  not  hearing  of  the  legate's  arrival  in 
France  causeth  us  somewhat  to  muse.  Notwithstand- 
ing, we  trust,  by  your  diligence  and  vigilancy,  (with 
the  assistance  of  Almighty  God,)  shortly  to  be  eased 
out  of  that  trouble. 

But  still  there  was  no  news.  While  waiting  for  the 
long-dosired  ambassador,  every  one  at  the  English 
court  played  his  part  as  well  as  he  could.  Anne, 
whether  from  conscience,  prudence,  or  modesty,  re- 
fused the  honours  which  the  king  would  have  showered 
upon  her,  and  never  approached  Catherine  but  with 
marks  of  profound  respect.  Wolsey  had  the  look  of 
dcsiiiug  the  divorce,  while  in  reality  he  dreaded  it,  as 
fated  to  cause  his  ruin  and  that  of  the  popedom. 
Henry  strove  to  conceal  the  motives  which  impelled 
him  to  separate  from  the  queen;  to  the  bishops  he 
spoke  of  his  conscience,  to  the  nobility  of  an  heir,  and 
to  all  of  the  sad  obligation  which  compelled  him  to  put 
away  so  justly  beloved  a  princess.  In  the  meanwhile, 
he  seemed  to  live  on  the  best  tci-ms  with  her,  from 
what  Du  Bellay  says.  But  Catherine  was  the  one  who 
best  dissembled  her  sentiments ;  she  lived  with  the 
kuig  as  during  their  happiest  days,  treated  Aoine  with 
every  kindness,  adopted  an  elegant  costume,  encour- 
aged music  and  dancing  in  her  apartments,  often  ap- 


peared in  public,  and  seemed  desirous  of  captivating 
by  her  gracious  smiles  the  good-will  of  England.  This 
was  a  mournful  comedy,  destined  to  end  in  tragedy 
full  of  tears  and  agony. 


CHAPTER  II. 

Covci-dale  and  lusiiiration— lie  undertakes  to  Translate  the  Scriptnrea— 
His  Joy  and  Spiritual  Songs— Tyball  and  tlie  Laymen— Covcrdalo 
preaclies  at  Bumpstead — Revival  at  Colchester — Incomplete  Societies 
and  the  New  Testament — Persecution — Monmouth  arrested  and  re- 

WniLE  these  scenes  were  acting  in  the  roj-al  palaces, 
far  different  discussions  were  going  on  among  tho 
people.  After  having  dwelt  for  some  time  on  the  agi- 
tations of  the  court,  we  gladly  return  to  the  lowly  dis- 
ciples of  the  Divine  Word.  The  Reformation  of  Eng- 
land (and  this  is  its  characteristic)  brings  before  us  by 
turns  the  king  upon  his  throne,  and  the  laborious  arti- 
san in  his  humble  cottage ;  and  between  these  two 
extremes  we  meet  with  the  doctor  in  his  college,  and 
the  priest  in  his  pulpit. 

Among  the  young  men  trained  at  Cambridge  under 
Barnes's  instruction,  and  who  had  aided  him  at  the 
time  of  his  trial,  was  Miles  Coverdale,  afterwards 
bishop  of  Exeter,  a  man  distinguished  by  his  zeal  for 
the  Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ.  Some  time  after  the 
prior's  fall,  on  Easter  Eve,  1527,  Coverdale  and  Crom- 
well met  at  the  house  of  Sir  Thomas  More,  when  the 
former  exhorted  the  Cambridge  student  to  apply  him- 
self to  the  study  of  sacred  learning.  The  lapse  of  his 
unhappy  master  had  alarmed  Coverdale,  and  he  felt 
the  necessity  of  withdrawing  from  that  outward  acti- 
vity which  had  proved  so  fatal  to  Barnes.  He,  there- 
fore, turned  to  the  Scriptures — read  them  again  and 
again — and  perceived,  like  Tyndale,  that  the  reforma- 
tion of  the  Church  must  be  effected  by  the  Word  of 
God.  The  inspiration  of  that  Word — the  only  founda- 
tion of  its  sovereign  authority — had  struck  Coverdale.  | 
"  WHierever  the  Scripture  is  known,  it  reformeth  all 
things.  And  why?  Because  it  is  given  bi/  the  inspi- 
ration of  God."  This  fundamental  principle  of  tlie 
Reformation  in  England  must,  in  every  age,  be  that 
of  the  Church. 

Coverdale  found  happiness  in  his  studies  :  "  Now," 
he  said,  "  I  begin  to  taste  of  Holy  Scriptures !  Now, 
honour  be  to  God  !  I  am  set  to  the  most  sweet  smell 
of  holy  letters.  He  did  not  stop  there,  but  thought  it 
his  duty  to  attempt  in  England  the  work  which  Tyn- 
dale was  prosecuting  in  Germany.  Tiie  Bible  was  so 
important  in  the  eyes  of  these  Christians,  that  two 
translations  were  undertaken  simultaneously.  "  Wliy 
should  other  nations,"  said  Coverdale,  "  be  more  plen- 
teously  provided  for  with  the  Scriptures  in  their 
mother-tongue  than  we?" — "Beware  of  translating 
the  Bible  ! "  exclaimed  the  partisans  of  the  schoolmen ; 
"  your  labour  will  only  make  divisions  in  the  faith  and 
in  the  people  of  God." — "  God  has  now  given  His 
Church,"  replied  Coverdale,  "the  gifts  of  translating  and 
of  printing ;  we  must  improve  them."  And  if  any  friends 


660 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


spoke  of  Tyndale's  translation,  he  answered :  "  Do  not 
you  know,  that  when  many  are  starting  together,  eveiy 
one  doth  his  best  to  be  nighest  the  mark?"  "But 
Scripture  ought  to  exist  in  Latin  only,"  objected  the 
priests. — "  No,"  replied  Coverdale  again,  "  the  Holy 
Ghost  is  as  much  the  author  of  it  in  tlie  Hebrew, 
Greek,  French,  Dutch,  and  English,  as  in  Latin. 
....  The  Word  of  God  is  of  like  authority,  in 
what  language  soever  the  Holy  Ghost  speaketh  it." 
This  does  not  mean  that  translations  of  Holy  Scripture 
are  inspired,  but  that  the  Word  of  God,  faithfully 
translated,  always  possesses  a  Divine  authority. 


Coverdale  determined,  therefore,  to  translate  the 
Bible;  and,  to  procure  the  necessary  books,  he  wrote 
to  Cromwell,  who,  during  his  travels,  had  made  a  col- 
lection of  these  precious  writings.  "  Nothing  in  the 
world  I  desire  but  books,"  he  wrote;  "like  Jacob,  you 
have  drunk  of  the  dew  of  heaven.  ...  I  ask 
to  drink  of  your  waters."  Cromwell  did  not  refuse 
Coverdale  his  treasures.  "Since  the  Holy  Ghost 
moves  you  to  bear  the  cost  of  this  work,"  exclaimed 
the  latter,  "  God  gives  me  boldness  to  labour  in 
tlie  same."  He  commenced  without  delay,  saying: 
"  Whosoever  believeth  not  the  Scripture,  bclieveth  not 
Clirist;  and  whoso  refuseth  it,  refuseth  God  also." 
Such  were  the  foundations  of  the  Eeformed  Church 
in  England. 

Coverdale  did  not  undertake  to  translate  the  Scrip- 
tures as  a  mere  literary  task :  the  Spirit  which  had 
inspired  him  spoke  to  his  heart;  and  tasting  their 
life-giving  promises,  he  expressed  his  happiness  in 
pious  songs : — 


Ee  glnd  now,  .ill  ye  Christen  men. 

And  let  lis  rejoyce  unfaynedly. 
The  kindnesse  cannot  be  written  with  penne,' 

That  we  have  receaved  of  God's  mercy  ; 
AVhose  love  toward  us  hath  never  ende  • 
He  hath  done  for  us  as  a  frcnde ; 

Kow  let  us  thanke  him  hartely. 


These  lovynge  words  he  spake  to  me ; 

I  wyll  delj'vcr  thy  soule  from  payne ; 
I  am  dcsposed  to  do  for  thee, 

And  to  myne  owne  selfe  thee  to  rctaync. 
Thou  Shalt  be  with  nie,  for  thou  art  mync ; 
And  I  with  thee,  for  I  am  thyne ; 

Such  is  ray  love,  I  cannot  layne. 

Tlicy  wyll  shed  out  my  precyons  bloudJ, 

And  take  away  my  lyfe  also ; 
Which  I  wyll  sutTre  all  for  thy  good : 

Beleve  this  sure,  where  ever  thou  go. 
For  I  wyll  yet  ryse  up  agayne  ; 
Thy  synnes  I  beare,  though  it  be  payno. 

To  make  thee  safe  and  free  from  wo. 

Coverdale  did  not  remain  long  in  the 
solitude  he  desired.  The  study  of  the 
Bible,  which  had  attracted  him  to  it, 
soon  drew  him  out  of  it.  A  revival 
was  going  on  in  Essex ;  John  Tyball, 
an  inhabitant  of  Bumpstead,  having 
learnt  to  find  in  Jesus  Christ  the  true 
bread  from  heaven,  did  not  stop  there. 
One  day  as  he  was  reading  the  First 
Epistle  to  the  Corinthians,  these  words : 
"  Eat  of  this  bread"  and  "  drink  of  this 
Clip"  repeated  four  times  within  a  few 
verses,  convinced  him  that  there  was 
uo  transubstantiation.  "A  priest  has 
no  power  to  create  the  body  of  the 
Lord,"  said  he ;  "  Christ  truly  is  present 
in  the  Eucharist,  but  He  is  there  only 
for  him  that  believet/i,  and  by  a  spiritual 
presence  and  action  only."  Tyball, 
disgusted  with  the  Koniish  clergy  and 
worship,  and  convinced  that  Christians 
are  called  to  a  universal  priesthood, 
soon  thought  that  men  could  do  with- 
out a  special  ministry ;  and  without 
denying  the  offices  mentioned  in  Scripture,  as  some 
Christians  have  done  since,  he  attached  no  impor- 
tance to  them.  "Priesthood  is  not  necessary,"  ho 
said  ;  "  every  layman  may  administer  the  sacraments 
as  well  as  a  priest."  The  minister  of  Bumpstead,  one 
Richard  Foxe,  and  next  a  greyfriar  of  Colchester, 
named  Meadow,  were  successively  converted  by  Tyball's 
energetic  preaching. 

Coverdale,  who  was  living  not  far  from  these  parts, 
having  heard  speak  of  this  religious  revival,  came  to 
Bumpstead,  and  went  into  the  pulpit  in  the  spring  of 
1528,  to  proclaim  the  treasures  contained  in  Scripture. 
Among  his  hearers  was  an  Augustine  monk,  named 
Topley,  who  was  supplying  Foxe's  place  during  his 
absence.  This  monk,  while  staying  at  the  parsonage, 
had  found  a  copy  of  Wickliffe's  "  Wicket,"  vi'hich  he  read 
eagerly.  His  conscience  was  wounded  by  it,  and  all 
seemed  to  totter  about  him.  He  had  gone  to  church 
full  of  doubt ;  and  after  divine  service  he  waited  upon 
the  preacher,  exclaiming:  "O  my  sins,  my  sins!" 
"  Confess  yourself  to  God,"  said  Coverdale,  "  and  not 
to  a  priest.  God  accepteth  the  confession  which 
Cometh  from  the  heart,  and  blotteth  out  all  your  sins." 
The  monk  believed  in  the  forgiveness  of  God,  and  be- 
came a  zealous  evangelist  for  the  surrounding  country. 
The  divine  Word  had  hardly  lighted  one  torch,  be- 
fore that  kindled  another.    At  Colchester,  in  the  same 


REVIVAL  AT  COLCHESTER. 


GSl 


i^Wc 


county,  a  -worthy  man,  named  Pykas,  had  received  a 
copy  of  the  Epistles  of  St.  Paul  from  his  mother, 
with  this  advice  :  "  Jly  son,  live  accordinj^  to  these 
•writings,  and  not  according  to  the  teaching  of  the 
clcrgj-."  Some  time  after,  Pykas  having  bought  a 
New  Testament,  and  '-read  it  thoroughly  many  times," 
ft  total  change  took  place  in  him.  "We  must  be 
baptized  by  the  Holy  Ghost,"  he  said  ;  and  these  words 
passed  like  a  breath  of  life  over  his  simple-minded 
hearers.  One  day,  Pykas  having  learnt  that  Bilney, 
the  first  of  the  Cambridge  doctors  who  had  known  the 
power  of  God's  Word,  was  preaching  at  Ipswich,  he 
proceeded  thither,  for  he  never  refused  to  listen  to  a 
priest,  when  that  priest  proclaimed  the  truth.  "Oh! 
what  a  sermon!  how  full  of  the  Holy  Ghost!"  ex- 
claimed Pykas. 

From  that  period  meetings 
of  the  brothers  in  Christ  (for 
thus  they  were  called)  i  ncreased 
in  number.   They  read  ''■cXew 
Testament,  and  each  impiittd 
to  the  others  what  be  h  id  il 
ceived  for  the  instiuction  of 
all.    Oneday  when  the  t«ent} 
fourth  chapter  of  Matthei\  had 
been   read,   Pykas,  ^^ho    w  i 
sometimes  wrong  in  the     |  u 
itual   interpretation   of  ^51.111 
tiire,   remarked:   "AMien  tu 
Lord  declares  that  not  one 
<if  the  temple  shall  be  left  1  1 
another,   He   speaks    ot    th 
haughty  priests  who  pei  t-  u 
those  -whom  they  call  htii-ti 
and  who    pretend    I0    be    tl 
temple    of    God.      God 
destroy  them  all."    AftLi  pio- 
testing  .against  the  pue^t,  he 
protested    against    the    host 
"The    real    body    of    Je  u^ 
Christ   is    in    the   "\^old, '   he 
said ;  "  God  is  in  the  "W  ord  , 
the  Word   is   in   God      God 
and  the  Word  cannot  be  sepa- 
rated.     Christ   is   the    Iimiis 
Word  that  nourishes  the  ^oul 
These  humble    preachei^   in- 
creased.    Even  women  knew 

the  Epistles  and  Gospels  by  heart;  Marion  Matthew, 
Dorothy  Long,  Catherine  Swain,  Alice  Gardiner,  and 
above  all,  Gyrling's  wife,  who  had  been  in  service 
with  a  priest  lately  burnt  for  heresy,  took  part  in  these 
Gospel  meetings.  Aud  it  was  not  in  cottages  only 
that  the  glad  tidings  were  then  proclaimed ;  Bower 
Hall,  the  residence  of  the  squires  of  Bumpstead,  was 
open  to  Foxe,  Topley,  and  Tyball,  who  often  read 
the  Holy  Scriptures  in  the  great  hall  of  the  mansion, 
in  the  presence  of  the  master  and  all  their  household  : 
a  humble  Reformation  more  real  than  that  effected  by 
HeniyVIII. 

There  was,  however,  some  diversity  of  opinion 
among  these  brethren.  "All  who  have  begun  to  be- 
lieve," said  Tyball,  Pykas,  and  others,  "  ought  to  meet 
together  to  hear  the  Word,  and  increase  in  faith.     We 


pray  in  common  .  .  .  and  that  constitutes  a 
church."  Coverdale,  Bilney,  and  Latimer,  willingly 
recognised  these  incomplete  societies,  in  which  tho 
members  met  simply  as  difciples ;  they  believed  them 
necessary  at  a  period  when  the  Church  was  forming. 
These  societies  (in  the  reformers'  views)  proved  that 
organization  has  not  the  priority  in  the  Christian 
Church,  as  Rome  maintains,  and  that  this  priority 
belongs  to  the  faith  and  the  life.  But  this  imperfect 
form  they  also  regarded  as  provisional.  To  prevent 
numerous  dangers,  it  was  necessary  that  this  society 
should  be  succeeded  by  another,  the  Church  of  the  New 
Testament,  with  its  elders  or  bishops,  and  deacons. 
The  AVord,  they  thought,  rendered  a  ministry  of  the 
Word  necessary;  and  for  its  proper  exercise,  not  only 
piety  was  required,  but  a  knowledge  of  the  sacred 


languages,  the  gift  of  eloquence,  its  exercise  and  per- 
fecUon.  However,  there  was  no  division  among  these 
Christians  upon  secondaiy  matters. 

For  some  time  the  Bishop  of  London  watched  this 
movement  with  imeasiuess.  He  caused  Hacker  to  be 
arrested,  who,  for  six  years  past,  had  gone  from  house 
to  house  reading  the  Bible  in  London  and  Essex ;  ex- 
amined and  threatened  him,  inquired  carefully  after 
the  names  of  those  who  had  shewn  him  hospitality; 
and  the  poor  man,  in  alarm,  had  given  up  about  forty 
of  his  brethren.  Sebastian  Harris,  priest  of  Kensing- 
ton, Forman,  rector  of  All  Hallows,  John  and  William 
Pykas.  and  many  others,  were  summoned  before  the 
bishop.  They  were  taken  to  prison ;  they  were  led 
before  the  judges ;  they  were  put  in  the  stocks ;  they 
were  tormented  in  a  thousand  ways.      Their  minds 


es2 


HISTORY  OP  THE  REFORMATION. 


Lccamc  confused;  their  thoughts  wanclercd;  and  many 
made  the  confessions  required  by  their  persecutors. 

The  adversaries  of  the  Gospel,  proud  of  this  success, 
now  desired  a  more  glorious  victory.  If  they  could 
not  reach  Tyndale,  had  they  not  in  London  the  patron 
of  his  work,  Monmouth,  the  most  influential  of  tlie 
merchants,  and  a  follower  of  the  true  faith?  The 
clergy  had  made  religion  their  business,  and  the 
Eeformation  restored  it  to  the  people.  Nothing  offend- 
ed the  priests  so  much,  as  that  laymen  should  claim 
the  right  to  believe  without  their  intervention,  and 
even  to  propagate  the  faith.  Sir  Thomas  More,  one 
of  the  most  amiable  men  of  the  sixteenth  century, 
participated  in  their  hatred.  lie  wrote  to  Cochloeus : 
"Germany  now  daily  bringeth  forth  monsters  more 
deadly  than  what  Africa  was  wont  to  do ;  but,  alas ! 
she  is  not  alone.  Numbers  of  Englishmen,  who  would 
not  a  few  years  ago  even  hear  Luther's  name  mentioned, 
are  now  publishing  his  praises !  England  is  now  like 
the  sea,  which  swells  and  heaves  before  a  great  storm, 
without  any  wind  stirring  it."  More  felt  particularly 
irritated,  because  the  boldness  of  the  Gospellers  had 
succeeded  to  the  timidity  of  the  Lollards.  "The 
heretics,"  he  said,  "  have  put  off  hypocrisy,  and  put 
on  impudence."  He  therefore  resolved  to  set  his  hand 
to  the  work. 

On  the  14th  of  May,  1529,  Monmouth  was  in  his 
shop,  when  an  usher  came  and  summoned  him  to 
appear  before  Sir  J.  Dauucies,  one  of  the  privy  council. 
The  pious  merchant  obeyed,  striving  to  persuade  him- 
self that  he  was  wanted  on  some  matter  of  business ; 
but  in  this  he  was  deceived,  as  he  soon  found  out. 
"What  letters  and  books  have  you  lately  received 
from  abroad  ? "  asked,  with  some  severity.  Sir  Thomas 
More,  who,  with  Sir  William  Kingston,  was  Sir  John's 
colleague. — "None,"  replied  Monmouth.  "What  aid 
have  you  given  to  any  persons  living  on  the  Conti- 
nent?"— "  None,  for  these  last  throe  years.  William 
Tyndale  abode  with  me  six  months,"  he  continued, 
"  and  his  life  was  what  a  good  priest's  ought  to  be.  I 
gave  him  ten  pounds  at  the  period  of  his  departure, 
but  nothing  since.  Besides,  he  is  not  the  only  one  I 
have  helped ;  the  Bishop  of  London's  chaplain,  for 
instance,  has  received  of  me  more  than  £50."  "What 
books  have  you  in  your  possession  ?  " — The  merchant 
named  the  New  Testament  and  some  other  works. 
"All  these  books  have  lain  more  than  two  years  on  my 
table,  and  I  never  heard  that  either  priests,  friars,  or 
laymen,  learnt  any  great  errors  from  them."  More 
tossed  his  head.  "It  is  a  hard  matter,"  he  used  to  say, 
"  to  put  a  diy  stick  in  the  fire  without  its  burning,  or 
to  nourish  a  snake  in  our  bosom  and  not  be  stung  by 
it. — That  is  enough,"  he  continued,  "we  shall  go  and 
.search  your  house."  Not  a  paper  escaped  their  curios- 
ity; but  they  found  nothing  to  compromise  Monmouth: 
he  was,  however,  sent  to  the  Tower. 

After  some  interval  the  merchant  was  again  brought 
before  his  judges.  "You  are  accused,"  said  More, 
"  of  having  bought  Martin  Luther's  tracts ;  of  main- 
taining those  who  are  translating  the  Scriptures  into 
English ;  of  subscribing  to  get  the  New  Testament 
printed  in  EngHsh,  with  or  without  glosses  ;  of  having 
imported  it  into  the  kingdom  ;  and,  lastly,  of  having 
said  that  faith  alone  is  sufficient  to  save  a  man." 


There  was  matter  enough  to  burn  several  men. 
Monmouth,  feeling  convinced  that  Wolsey  alone  had 
power  to  deliver  him,  resolved  to  apply  to  him.  "What 
will  become  of  my  poor  workmen  in  London  and  in 
the  country,  during  my  imprisonment  ? "  he  wrote  to 
the  cardinal.  "  They  must  have  their  money  every 
week ;  who  will  give  it  them  ?  .  .  .  Besides,  I 
make  considerable  sales  in  foreign  countries,  wliicli 
bring  large  returns  to  his  majesty's  customs.  If  I  re- 
main in  prison  this  commerce  is  stopped,  and  of  course 
all  the  proceeds  for  the  exchequer."  Wolsey,  who 
was  as  much  a  statesman  as  a  churchman,  began  to 
melt;  on  the  eve  of  a  struggle  with  the  pope  and  the 
emperor,  he  feared,  besides,  to  make  the  people  dis- 
contented. Monmouth  was  released  from  prison.  As 
alderman,  and  then  as  sheriff  of  London,  he  was  faith- 
ful until  death,  and  ordered  in  his  last  will  that  thirty 
sermons  should  be  preached  by  the  most  evangelical 
ministers  in  England,  "  to  make  known  the  holy  Word 
of  Jesus  Christ."  "  That  is  better,"  he  thought,  "  than 
founding  masses."  The  Eeformation  shewed,  in  the 
sixteenth  century,  that  great  activity  in  commerce 
might  be  allied  to  great  piety. 


CHAPTER  III. 


rditical  Changes— Fresli  Instrartiotis  from  tlje  Pope  to  Campeggio— His 
delays— He  unbosoms  himself  to  Fiaucis— A  Predictiou — Arrival  of 
Campeggio  — Wolsej-'s  Uneasiness  —  Henrj-'s  Satisfaction  — The  Car- 
dinal's Project  —  Campeggio's  Reception  —  First  Interview  with  the 
Queen  and  with  the  King— Useless  Efforts  to  make  Campeggio  pai-t 
with  the  Decretal— The  Nuncio's  Conscience— Public  Opinion— Mea- 
sures taken  by  the  King— His  Speech  to  the  Lords  and  Aldermen— 
Festivities— Wolsey  seeks  French  Support— Contrariety. 

While  these  persecutions  were  agitating  the  fields  and 
the  capital  of  England,  all  had  changed  in  the  ecclesi- 
astical world,  because  all  had  changed  in  the  political. 
The  pope,  pressed  by  Henry  VIII.,  and  intimidated 
by  the  armies  of  Francis  I.,  had  granted  the  decretal 
and  despatched  Campeggio.  But,  on  a  sadden,  there 
was  a  new  evolution;  a  change  of  events  brought  a 
change  of  counsels.  Doria  had  gone  over  to  the  em- 
peror ;  his  fleet  had  restored  abundance  to  Naples. 
The  army  of  Francis  I.,  ravaged  by  famine  and  pes- 
tilence, had  capitulated ;  and  Charles  V.,  triumphant 
in  Italy,  had  said  proudly  to  the  pope :  "  We  are  deter- 
mined to  defend  the  Queen  of  England  against  King 
Henry's  injustice." 

Charles  having  recovered  hia  superiority,  the  af- 
frighted pope  opened  his  eyes  to  the  justice  of  Cath- 
erine's cause.  "  Send  four  messengers  after  Cam- 
peggio," said  he  to  his  officers ;  "  and  let  each  take  a 
different  road ;  bid  them  travel  with  all  speed,  and 
deliver  our  despatches  to  him."  They  overtook  the 
legate,  who  opened  the  pope's  letters.  "  In  the  first 
place,"  said  Clement  VH.  to  him,  "  protract  your  jour- 
ney. In  the  second  place,  when  you  reach  England, 
use  eveiy  endeavour  to  reconcile  the  king  and  queen. 
In  the  third  place,  if  you  do  not  succeed,  persuade  the 
queen  to  take  the  veil.    And,  in  the  last  place,  if  she 


ANNE'S  LETTER  TO  WOLSEY. 


refuses,  do  not  pronounce  any  sentence  fiivourablo  to 
tlie  divorce  without  a  new  and  express  order  from  me. 
Tliis  is  the  esscutial :  Sumimtm  et  maximum  mandalum." 
The  ambassador  of  the  sovereign  pontiff  had  a  mission 
to  do  nothing.  This  instruction  is  sometimes  as  effec- 
tive as  any. 

Campegs'o,  the  youngest  of  the  cardinals,  was  the 
most  intelligent  and  the  slowest ;  and  this  slowness 
caused  his  selection  by  the  pope.  He  understood  his 
master.  If  AVolsey  was  Henry's  spur  to  urge  on  Cam- 
peggio,  the  latter  was  Clement's  bridle  to  check  "Wol- 
sey.  One  of  the  judges  of  the  divorce  was  about  to 
pull  forwards,  the  other  backwards  ;  thus  the  business 
stood  a  chance  of  not  advancing  at  all,  which  was  just 
what  the  pope  recpiired. 

The  legate,  vciy  eager  to  relax  his  speed,  spent 
three  months  on  his  journey  from  Italy  to  England. 
He  should  IiRve  embarked  for  France  on  the  23rd  of 
July,  but  the  end  of  August  was  ajiproaching,  and  no 
one  knew  in  that  country  what  had  become  of  him. 
At  length  they  learnt  that  he  had  reached  Lyons  on 
the  22nd  of  August.  The  English  ambassador  in 
France  sent  him  horses,  carriages,  plate,  and  money, 
in  order  to  hasten  his  progress  ;  the  legate  complained 
of  the  (lout,  and  Gardiner  found  the  greatest  difficulty 
in  getting  him  to  move.  Henry  wrote  every  day  to 
Anne  Boleyn,  complaining  of  the  slow  progress  of  the 
nuncio.  "  lie  arrived  in  Paris  last  Sunday  or  Mon- 
day," he  says,  at  the  beginning  of  September.  "  Mon- 
day next  we  shall  hear  of  his  arrival  in  Calais,  and 
then  I  shall  obtain  what  I  have  so  longed  for,  to  God's 
pleas>n-o  and  both  our  comforts." 

At  the  same  time,  this  impatient  prince  sent  message 
after  message,  to  accelerate  the  legate's  rate  of  tra- 
velling. 

Anne  began  to  desire  a  future  which  surpassed  all 
that  her  youthful  imagination  had  conceived,  and  her 
agitated  heart  expanded  to  the  breath  of  hope.  She 
wrote  to  Wolsey : 

"  This  shall  be  to  give  unto  your  gi-ace,  as  I  am  most 
bound,  my  humble  thanks  for  the  great  pain  and  tra- 
vail that  your  gi-ace  doth  take  in  studying,  by  your 
wisdom  and  great  diligence,  how  to  bring  to  pass  hon- 
ourably the  greatest  wealth  [well-being]  that  is  pos- 
sible to  como  to  any  creature  living;  and  in  especial 
remembering  how  wretched  and  unworthy  I  am  in 
comparison  to  his  highness.  .  .  .  Now,  good  my 
lord,  your  discretion  may  consider  as  yet  how  little  it 
is  in  my  power  to  recompense  you  but  alonely  [only] 
with  my  good  -n-ill ;  the  which  I  assure  you,  look 
what  thing  in  this  world  I  can  imagine  to  do  you 
pleasure  in,  you  shall  find  me  the  gladdest  woman  in 
the  world  to  do  it." 

But  the  impatience  of  the  King  of  England  and  of 
Anne  seemed  as  if  it  would  never  be  satisfied.  Cam- 
peggio,  on  his  way  through  Paris,  told  Francis  I. 
that  the  divorce  would  never  take  place,  and  that  he 
should  soon  go  to  Spain  to  see  Charles  V.  .  .  . 
This  was  significative.  "  The  King  of  England  ought 
to  know,"  said  the  indignant  Francis  to  the  Duke  of 
Suffolk,  "  that  Campeggio  is  imperialist  at  heart,  and 
that  his  mission  in  England  will  be  a  mere  mockery." 

In  truth,  the  Spanish  and  Romao  factions  tried  every 


matioeuvre  to  prevent  a  union  they  detested.  Aimc 
Boleyn,  queen  of  England,  signified  not  only  Catherine 
humbled,  but  Charles  offended;  the  clerical  party 
weakened,  perhaps  destroyed,  and  the  evangelical 
party  put  in  its  place,  'fhe  Romish  faction  found 
accomplices  even  in  Anne's  own  family.  Her  brother 
George's  wife,  a  proud  and  passionate  woman,  and  a 
rigid  Roman  Cafliolic,  had  sworn  an  implacable  hatred 
against  her  young  sister.  By  this  means  wounds  might 
be  inflicted,  even  iu  the  domestic  sanctuarv',  which 
woidd  not  be  the  less  deep  because  they  were  the  work 
of  her  own  kindred.  One  day  we  are  told  that  Anne 
found  iu  her  chamber  a  book  of  pretended  prophecies, 
in  which  was  a  picture  representing  a  king,  a  queeu 
shedding  tears,  and  at  their  feet  a  young  lady  headless. 
Anne  turned  away  her  eyes  with  disgust.  Slie  desired, 
however,  to  know  what  this  emblem  signified ;  and 
officious  friends  brought  to  her  one  of  those  pretended 
wise  men — so  numerous  at  all  times — who  abuse  the 
credulity  of  the  ignorant  by  professing  to  interpret 
such  mysteries.  "  This  prophetic  picture,"  he  said, 
"represents  the  history  of  the  king  and  his  wife." 
Anne  was  not  credulous,  but  she  understood  what  her 
enemies  meant  to  insinuate,  and  dismissed  the  mock 
interpreter  without  betraying  any  signs  of  fear  ;  then, 
turning  to  her  favourite  attendant,  Ann  Saville,  ''Come 
hither,  Nan,"  said  she,  "  look  at  this  book  of  prophe- 
cies :  this  is  the  king,  this  is  the  queen  wringing  her 
hands  and  mourning,  and  this  (putting  her  finger  on 
the  bleeding  body)  is  mi/sclf,  with  my  head  cut  off." 
The  young  lady  answered  with  a  shudder :  "  If  I 
thought  it  were  true,  I  would  not  myself  have  him 
were  he  an  emperor."  '■  Tut,  Nan,"  replied  Anne 
Boleyn  with  a  sweet  smile,  "I  think  the  book  a  bauble, 
and  am  resolved  to  have  him,  that  my  issue  may  be 
royal,  whatever  may  become  of  me."  This  story  is 
based  on  good  authoritj',  and  there  were  so  many  jn-e- 
dictious  of  this  kind  afloat,  that  it  is  very  possible 
one  of  them  might  come  true ;  people  afterwards  recol- 
lected only  the  prophecies  confirmed  by  the  events. 
But,  be  that  as  it  may,  this  young  lady,  so  severely 
chastised  in  after-days,  found  in  her  God  an  abundant 
consolation.  ' 

At  length  Campeggio  embarked  at  Calais  on  the     ' 
29tli  of  September,  and  unfortunately  for  him  lie  had 
an  excellent  passage  across  the  Channel.     A  storm  to 
di-ive  him  back  to  the  French  coast  would  have  suited 
him  admirably.     But,  on  the  1st  of  October,  he  was 
at  Canterbury,  whence  he  announced  his  arrival  to  the 
king.     At  this  news  Henry  forgot  all  the  delays  which 
had  so  irritated  him.     "  His  majesty  can  never  be  suf- 
ficiently grateful  to  your  holiness  for  so  great  a  fav- 
our," wrote  Wolsey  to  the  pope ;  "  but  he  will  employ 
his  riches,  his  kingdom,  his  life  even,  and  deserve  the 
name  of  Eestorev  of  the  Church,  as  justly  as  he  has      ! 
gained   that   of   Defender   of  the   Faith."      This   zeal 
alarmed  Campeggio,  for  the  pope  wrote  to  him,  that 
any  proceeding  which  might   irritate   Charles  would 
inevitably  cause  the  ruin  of  the  Church.     The  nuncio     | 
became   more   dilatory   than   ever,   and   although  he     | 
reached  Canterbury  on  the  1st  of  October,  he  did  not      I 
arrive  at  Dartford  until  the  5th,  thus  taking  four  days      j 
for  a  joiu-ney  of  about  thirty  miles. 

Meanwhile  preparations  were  making  to  receive  him 


684 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


in  London.  Wolscy,  feeling  oontempt  for  the  poverty 
of  the  Roman  cardinals,  and  very  uneasy  about  the 
equipage  -with  -which  his  colleague  was  likely  to  make 
his  entrance  into  the  capital,  sent  a  number  of  showy 
chests,  rich  carpets,  litters  hung  vnth  di-apery,  and 
hnruessed  mides.  On  the  other  hand,  Campeggio, 
whose  secret  mission  was  to  keep  in  the  background, 
ajid,  above  all,  to  do  nothing,  feared  these  banners  and 
trappings,  and  all  the  parade  of  a  triumphal  entry. 
Alleging,  therefore,  an  attack  of  gout  in  order  to  escape 
from  the  pomps  his  colleague  had  prepared  for  him, 
he  quietly  took  a  boat,  and  thus  reached  the  palace  of 
the  Bishop  of  Bath,  where  he  was  to  lodge. 

While  the  nuncio  was  thus  proceeding  unnoticed  up 
the  Thames,  the  equipages  sent  by  Wolsey  entered 
London  through  the  midst  of  a  gaping  crowd,  who 
looked  on  them  with  curiosity,  as  if  they  had  come 
from  tlie  banks  of  the  Tiber.  Some  of  the  mules,  how- 
ever, took  fright  and  ran  away;  the  coffers  fell  off 
and  burst  open,  when  there  was  a  general  rush  to  see 
their  contents ;  but,  to  the  surprise  of  all,  they  were 
empty.  This  was  an  excellent  jest  for  the  citizens  of 
London.  "  Fine  outside,  empty  inside;  a  just  emblem 
of  the  popedom,  its  embassy,  and  foolish  pomps,"  they 
said  ;  "  a  sham  legate,  a  pi-ocession  of  masks,  and  the 
whole  a  farce !" 

Campeggio  was  come  at  last,  and  now  what  he 
dreaded  most  was  an  audience.  "  I  cannot  move,"  he 
.said,  "  or  endure  the  motion  of  a  litter."  Never  had 
an  attack  of  gout  been  more  seasonable.  "VYolsey,  who 
paid  him  frequent  visits,  soon  found  him  to  be  his 
equal  in  cunning.  To  no  purpose  did  he  treat  him 
with  every  mark  of  respect,  shaking  his  hand  and 
making  much  of  him;  it  was  labour  lost,  the  Roman 
nuncio  would  say  nothing,  and  Wolsey  began  to 
despair.  The  king,  on  the  contrary,  was  full  of 
hope,  and  fancied  he  already  had  the  act  of  divorce  in 
his  portfolio,  because  he  had  the  nuncio  in  his  kingdom. 

The  greatest  effect  of  the  nuncio's  arrival  was  the 
putting  an  end  to  Anne  Boleyn's  indecision.  She  had 
several  relapses ;  the  trials  which  she  foresaw,  and  the 
grief  Catherine  must  necessarily  feel,  had  agitated  her 
imagination  and  disturbed  her  mind.  But  when  she 
saw  the  church  and  her  own  enemies  prepared  to  pro- 
nounce the  king's  divorce,  her  doubts  were  removed, 
and  she  regarded  as  legitimate  the  position  that  was 
offered  her.  The  king,  who  suffcn'd  fi-om  licr  scruples, 
was  delighted  at  this  chaii.L;r.  "  I  i\r>Wr  to  inform 
you,"  he  wrote  to  her  in  En,uli>li.  "  \\li:ii  joy  it  is  to  me 
to  imderstand  of  your  confornuibluiiCf.s  with  reason, 
and  of  the  suppressing  of  your  inutile  and  vain 
thoughts  and  fantasies  with  the  bridle  of  reason.  I 
assure  you,  all  the  greatness  of  this  world  could  not 
counterpoise  for  my  satisfaction  the  knowledge  and 
certainty  thereof.  .  .  .  The  unfeigned  sickness  of 
this  well -willing  legate  doth  somewhat  retard  his 
access  to  your  person."  It  was,  therefore,  the  deter- 
mination of  the  pope  that  made  Anne  Boleyn  resolve 
to  accept  Henry's  hand.  This  is  an  important  lesson, 
for  which  we  are  indebted  to  the  Vatican  letters.  AVc 
should  be  grateful  to  the  papacy  for  havuig  so  care- 
fully preserved  them. 

But  the  more  Henry  rejoiced,  the  more  Wolsey 
despaired ;  he  would  have  desired  to  penetrate  into 


Clement's  thoughts,  but  could  not  succeed.  Imagin- 
ing that  De  Angelis,  the  general  of  the  Spanish 
Observance,  knew  all  the  secrets  of  the  pope  and  of 
the  emperor,  he  conceived  the  plan  of  kidnapping  him. 
"  If  he  goes  to  Spain  by  sea,"  said  he  to  Du  Bellay, 
"  a  good  brigautine  or  two  would  do  the  business ; 
and  if  by  land,  it  will  be  easier  still."  Du  Bellay 
failed  not  (as  he  informs  us  himself)  "  to  tell  him 
plainly,  that  by  such  proceedings  he  would  entirely 
forfeit  the  pope's  good  will." — "  What  matter  1 "  re- 
plied AYolsey,  "  I  have  nothing  to  lose."  As  he  said 
this,  tears  started  to  his  eyes.  At  last  he  made  up  his 
mind  to  remain  ignorant  of  the  pontiff's  designs,  and 
wiped  his  eyes,  awaiting,  not  without  fear,  the  inter- 
view between  Henry  and  Campeggio. 

On  the  22nd  of  October,  a  month  after  his  arrival, 
the  nuncio,  borne  in  a  sedan  chair  of  red  velvet,  was 
carried  to  court.  He  was  placed  on  the  right  of  the 
throne,  and  his  secretary,  in  his  name,  delivered  a  high- 
sounding  speech,  saluting  Henry  with  the  name  of 
Saviour  of  Rome,  Liberator  urbis.  "  His  majesty," 
replied  Fox,  in  the  king's  name,  "has  only  performed 
the  duties  incumbent  on  a  Christian  prince,  and  he 
hopes  that  the  holy  see  will  bear  them  in  mind." 
'■  Well  attacked,  well  defended,"  said  Du  Bellay.  For 
the  moment,  a  few  Latin  declamations  got  the  papal 
nuncio  out  of  his  difficulties. 

Campeggio  did  not  deceive  himself :  if  the  divorce 
were  refused,  he  foresaw  the  refoi-mation  of  England. 
Yet  he  hoped  still,  for  he  was  assured  that  Cathei-ine 
would  submit  to  the  judgment  of  the  Church ;  and, 
being  fully  persuaded  that  the  queen  would  refuse  the 
holy  father  nothing,  the  nuncio  began  "  his  approaches," 
as  bu  Bellay  calls  them.  On  the  27th  of  October, 
the  two  cardinals  waited  on  Catherine,  and  in  flatter- 
ing terms  insinuated  that  she  might  prevent  the  blow 
which  threatened  her,  by  voluntary  retirement  into  a 
convent.  And  then,  to  end  all  indecision  in  the  queen's 
mind,  Campeggio  put  on  a  severe  look,  and  exclaimed  : 
"How  is  it,  madam?  explain  the  mystery  to  us.  From 
the  moment  the  holj'  father  appointed  us  to  examine 
the  question  of  yoiu-  divorce,  you  have  been  seen,  not 
only  at  court,  but  in  public,  wearing  the  most  magni- 
ficent ornaments,  iwrticipatiiig,  with  an  appearance  of 
gaiety  and  siiti-t'ai-lioii,  .il  aiiinscments  and  festivities 
which  you  h:v\  ik -ici-  Inliiai,.!  before.  .  .  .  The 
Church  is  in  the  uRtot  ciuul  embarrassment  with  regard 
to  you ;  the  king,  your  husband,  is  in  the  greatest  per- 
plexity; the  princess,  your  daughter,  is  taken  from 
you  .  .  .  and,  instead  of  shedding  tears,  you  give 
yourself  up  to  vanity.  Renounce  the  world,  madam  ; 
enter  a  nunnery.  Our  holy  father  himself  recpiircs 
this  of  you." 

The  agitated  queen  was  almost  fainting ;  stifling  her 
emotion,  hov.-ever,  she  said  mildly,  but  firmly:  "Alas! 
my  lords,  is  it  now  a  question  whether  I  am  the  king's 
lawful  wife  or  not,  when  I  have  been  married  to  him 
almost  twenty  years  and  no  objection  raised  before  f 
.  .  .  .  Divers  prelates  and  lords  are  yet  alive  who 
then  adjudged  our  nuirriage  good  and  lawful, — and 
now  to  SMV  it  is  detestable!  this  is  a  great  marvel  to 
nic,  especially  wlirn  1  consider  what  a  wise  prince  the 
king's  father  was,  and  also  the  natural  love  and  affec- 
tion my  father,  King  Ferdinand,  bare   unto  me.     I 


HENRY'S  INTERVIEW  WITH  THE  NUNCIO. 


think  that  neither  of  these  illustnous  princes  would 
have  made  me  contract  an  illicit  union."  At  these 
words  Catherine's  emotion  cora])elled  her  to  stop. 
"  If  I  weep,  my  lords,"  she  continued  almost  imme- 
diately, "  it  is  not  for  myself,  it  is  for  a  person  dearer 
to  me  than  my  life.  What !  I  should  consent  to  an 
act  which  deprives  my  dan^hter  of  a  crown  ?  No  ;  I 
will  not  sacrifice  my  child.  I  know  what  dangers 
threaten  mc.  I  am  only  a  weak  woman,  a  stranger, 
without  learning,  advisers,  or  friends;  .  .  .  and 
my  enemies  are  skilful,  learned  in  the  laws,  and  desir- 
ous to  merit  their  master's  favour;  .  .  .  and  more 
than  that,  even  my  judges  are  my  enemies.  Can  I 
receive  as  such,"  she  said,  as  she  looked  at  Campeggio, 
"  a  man  extorted  from  the  pope  by  manifest  Ij-ing .' 
.  .  .  And  as  for  you,"  added  she,  turning  haughtily 
to  Wolsey,  "  having  failed  in  attaining  the  tiara,  you 
have  sworn  to  revenge  yom'self  on  my  nephew,  the  em- 
peror, .  .  .  and  you  have  kept  him  true  promise  ; 
for  all  his  wars  and  vexations  he  may  only  thank  you. 
One  victim  was  not  enough  for  you.  Forging  abom- 
inable suppositious,  you  desire  to  plunge  his  aunt  into 
a  frightful  ab}-ss.  .  .  .  But  my  cause  is  just,  and 
I  trnst  it  in  the  Lord's  hand."  After  this  bold  lan- 
guage the  unhappy  Catherine  Avlthdrew  to  her  apart- 
ments. The  imminence  of  the  danger  effected  a  salu- 
tary revolution  in  her ;  she  laid  aside  her  brilliant 
ornaments,  assumed  the  sober  garments  in  which  she 
is  usually  represented,  and  passed  days  and  nights  in 
mourning  and  in  teare. 

Thus  Campeggio  saw  his  hopes  deceived ;  he  had 
thought  to  find  a  nun,  and  had  met  a  queen  and  a 
mother.  ,  .  .  He  now  proceeded  to  set  every 
imaginable  spring  at  work ;  as  Catherine  would  not 
renounce  Henry,  he  must  try  and  prevail  upon  Henry 
to  renounce  his  idea  of  separating  from  the  queen. 
The  Roman  legate,  therefore,  changed  his  batteries, 
and  turned  them  against  the  king. 

Henry,  always  impatient,  went  one  day  unannounced 
to  Campeggio's  lodging,  accompanied  by  Wolsey  only : 
"As  we  are  without  witnesses,"  he  said,  taking  his 
seat  familiarly  between  the  two  cardinals,  "  let  us 
speak  freely  of  our  affairs.  How  shall  you  proceed  ? " 
But  to  his  gi'cat  astonishment  and  grief,  the  unncio 
prayed  him,  with  all  imaginable  delicacy,  to  renounce 
the  divorce.  At  these  words  the  fieiy  Tudor  burst 
out :  "  Is  this  how  the  pope  keeps  his  word  ?  He  sends 
me  an  ambassador  to  annul  my  marriage,  but  in  re- 
ality to  confirm  it."  He  made  a  pause.  Campeggio 
knew  not  what  to  say.  Henry  and  Catherine  being 
equally  persuaded  of  the  justice  of  their  cause,  the 
nuncio  was  iu  a  dilemma.  Wolsey  himself  suffered  a 
martyrdom.  The  king's  anger  grew  fiercer;  he  had 
thought  the  legate  woidd  hasten  to  withdraw  an  im- 
prudent expression,  but  Campeggio  was  dumb.  "  I 
see  that  you  have  chosen  your  part,"  said  Henry  to 
the  nuncio ;  "  mine,  you  may  be  sure,  will  soon  be 
taken  also.  Let  the  pope  only  persevere  in  this  way 
of  acting,  and  the  apostolical  see,  covered  with  per- 
petual infamy,  will  be  visited  with  a  frightful  destruc- 
tion." The  lion  had  thrown  off  the  lamb's  skin  which 
he  had  momentarily  assumed.  Campeggio  felt  that  he 
must  appease  the  monarch.  "  Craft  and  delay,"  were 
bis  orders  from  Rome;  and  with  that  view  the  pope 


had  provided  him  with  the  necessary  arms.  He  has- 
tened to  produce  the  famous  decretal  which  pronounced 
the  divorce.  "  The  holy  father,"  he  told  the  king, 
"  ardently  desires  that  tiiis  matter  shoidd  be  termin- 
ated by  a  happy  reconciliation  between  you  and  the 
queen  ;  but  if  that  is  impossible,  you  shall  judge  your- 
self whetlier  or  not  his  iioliness  can  keep  his  promises." 
He  then  read  tlie  bull,  and  even  shewed  it  to  Heiuy, 
witliout  permitting  it,  however,  to  leave  his  hands. 
This  exhibition  produced  the  desired  effect.  Henry 
grew  calm.  "  Now  I  am  at  ease  again,"  he  said ; 
"  this  mii-aculous  talisman  revives  all  my  courage. 
This  decretal  is  the  efficacious  remedy  that  will  restore 
peace  to  my  oppressed  conscience,  and  joy  to  my 
bruised  heart.  AVrite  to  his  holiness,  that  this  im- 
mense benefit  binds  me  to  liim  so  closely,  that  he 
may  expect  from  me  more  than  his  imagination  can 
conceive." 

And  yet  a  few  clouds  gathered  shortly  after  in  the 
king's  mind. 

Campeggio  having  shewn  the  bull  had  hastened  to 
lock  it  up  again.  Would  he  presume  to  keep  it  in  his 
own  hands  ?  Heniy  and  AVolsey  will  leave  no  means 
untried  to  get  possession  of  it ;  that  point  gained,  and 
victory  is  theii-s. 

AVolsey  having  returned  to  the  nuncio,  he  asked  him 
for  the  decretal  with  an  air  of  candour,  as  if  it  was  the 
most  natural  thing  in  the  world.  He  desired,  he  said, 
to  shew  it  to  the  king's  privy-councillors.  "  The  pope," 
replied  Campeggio,  "  has  granted  this  bidl,  not  to  be 
used,  but  to  be  kept  secret ;  he  simply  desired  to  shew 
the  king  the  good  feeling  by  which  lie  was  animated." 
Wolsey  having  failed,  Henry  tried  his  skill.  "Have 
the  goodness  to  hand  me  the  bull  which  you  shewed 
me,"  said  he.  The  nuncio  respectfully  refused.  "For 
a  single  moment,"  he  said.  Campeggio  still  refused. 
The  haughty  Tudor  retired,  stifling  his  anger.  Then 
Wolsey  made  another  attempt,  and  founded  his  demand 
on  justice.  "  Like  you,  I  am  delegated  by  his  holiness 
to  decide  this  aff;iir,"  he  said,  "  and  I  wish  to  study  the 
important  document  which  is  to  regulate  our  proceed- 
ings." This  was  met  by  a  new  refusal.  "W^hat!" 
exclaimed  the  minister  of  Henry  VIU.,  "  am  I  not, 
like  you,  a  cardinal?  .  .  .  like  you,  a  judge? 
your  colleague '? "  It  mattered  not,  the  nuncio  would 
not,  by  any  means,  let  the  decretal  go.  Clement  was 
not  deceived  in  the  choice  he  had  made  of  Campeggio; 
the  ambassador  was  worthy  of  his  master. 

It  was  evident  that  the  pope,  in  granting  the  bull, 
had  been  acting  a  part ;  this  trick  revolted  the  king. 
It  was  no  longer  anger  that  he  felt,  but  disgust. 
Wolsey  knew  that  Henry's  contempt  was  more  to  be 
feared  than  his  wrath.  He  grew  alarmed,  and  paid 
the  nuncio  another  visit.  "  The  general  commission," 
he  said,  "  is  insufllcient ;  the  ckcrelal  commission  alone 
can  be  of  service,  and  you  do  not  permit  us  to  read  a 
word  of  it.  .  .  .  The  king  and  I  place  the  gi-eat- 
est  confidence  in  the  good  intentions  of  his  holiness, 
and  yet  we  find  our  expectations  frustrated.  Where 
is  that  paternal  affection  with  which  we  had  flattered 
ourselves  I  What  prince  has  ever  been  trifled  with  as 
the  king  of  England  is  now  1  If  this  is  the  way  in 
which  tlie  Defender  of  the  Faith  is  rewarded,  Christen- 
dom will  know  what  those  who  serve  Rome  will  have 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


to  expect  from  lier,  aud  every  power  will  witlicbaw  its 
support.  Do  not  deceive  yourselves :  the  foundation 
on  which  the  holy  see  is  placed  is  so  very  insecure,  that 
the  least  movement  will  suffice  to  precipitate  it  into 
everlasting  ruin.  What  a  sad  futurity !  .  .  .  what 
inexpressible  tortui-e !  .  .  .  whether  I  wake  or 
sleep,  gloomy  thoughts  continually  pursue  me  like  a 
frightful  nightmare."  This  time  Wolsey  spoke  the 
truth. 

But  all  his  eloquence  was  useless ;  Campeggio 
refused  to  give  up  the  so  much  desired  bull.  When 
sending  him,  Rome  had  told  him:  "Above  all,  do  not 
succeed  ! "  This  means  having  failed,  there  remained 
for  Wolsey  one  other  way  of  effecting  the  divorce. 
"Well,  then,"  he  said  to  Campeggio,  "  let  us  pronounce 
it  ourselves."  "Far  be  it  from  us,"  replied  the  nuncio; 
"  the  anger  of  the  emperor  will  be  so  great,  that  the 
peace  of  Europe  will  be  broken  for  ever." — "I  know 
how  to  arrange  all  that,"  replied  the  English  cardinal ; 
"in  political  matters  you  may  trust  to  me."  The 
nuncio  then  took  another  tone,  and  proudly  wrapping 
himself  up  in  his  morality,  he  said :  "  I  shall  follow  the 
voice  of  my  conscience ;  if  I  see  that  the  divorce  is 
possible,  I  shall  leap  the  ditch ;  if  otherwise,  I  shall 
not."  "Your  conscience!  that  may  be  easily  satis- 
fied," rejoined  Wolsey.  "Holy  Scripture  forbids  a 
man  to  marry  his  brother's  widow ;  now,  no  pojie  can 
grant  what  is  forbidden  by  the  law  of  God."  "  The 
Lord  preserve  us  from  such  a  principle,"  exclaimed 
the  Roman  prelate ;  "  the  power  of  the  pope  is  unlim- 
ited." The  nuncio  had  hardly  put  his  conscience  for- 
ward before  it  stumbled ;  it  bound  him  to  Rome  and 
not  to  heaven.  But  for  that  matter,  neither  public 
opinion  nor  Campeggio's  own  friends  had  any  great 
iiiea  of  his  morality;  they  thought  that,  to  make  him 
leap  the  diicJi,  it  was  only  requisite  to  know  the  price 
at  which  he  might  be  bought.  The  Bishop  of  Bayonne 
wrote  to  Montmorency:  "Put  at  the  close  of  a  letter 
which  I  can  shew  Campeggio,  something  promissory: 
that  he  shall  have  benefices.  .  ,  .  That  will  cost 
you  nothing,  and  may  serve  in  this  matter  of  the  mar- 
riage, for  I  know  that  he  is  longing  for  something  of 
thesort."  "What  is  to  be  done,  then?"  said  Wolsey  at 
last,  astonished  at  meeting  with  a  resistance  to  which 
he  was  unaccustomed.  "  I  shall  inform  the  pope  of 
what  I  have  seen  and  heard,"  replied  Campeggio, 
"  and  I  shall  wait  for  his  instructions."  Henry  was 
forced  to  consent  to  this  new  course,  for  the  nuncio 
hinted,  that,  if  it  were  opposed,  he  would  go  in  person 
to  Rome,  to  ask  the  pontiff's  orders,  and  he  never  would 
have  returned.  By  this  means  several  mouths  were 
gained. 

During  this  time  men's  minds  were  troubled.  The 
prospect  of  a  divorce  between  the  king  and  queen  had 
stirred  the  nation ;  and  the  majority,  particularly 
among  the  women,  declared  against  the  king.  "  What- 
ever may  be  done,"  the  people  said  boldly,  "  whoever 
marries  the  princess  Mary,  will  be  king  of  Eng- 
land." Wolsey's  spies  informed  him,  that  Catherine 
and  Charles  V.  had  many  devoted  partisans  even  at 
the  court.  He  wished  to  make  sure  of  this.  "  It  is 
pretended,"  he  said  one  day  in  an  indifferent  tone, 
"  that  the  emperor  has  boasted  that  he  will  get  the 
king  di-iveu  from  his  realm,  and  that  by  his  majesty's 


own  subjects.  .  .  .  What  do  you  think  of  it,  my 
lords?"  "Tough  against  the  spur,"  says  Du  Bollay, 
the  lords  remained  silent.  At  length,  however,  one  of 
them,  more  imprudent  than  the  rest,  exclaimed,  "  Such 
a  boast  will  make  the  emperor  lose  more  than  a  hun- 
dred thousand  Englishmen."  This  was  enough  for 
Wolsey.  To  lose  them,  he  thought,  Charles  must  have 
them.  If  Catherine  thought  of  levying  war  against 
her  husband — following  the  example  of  former  queens 
of  England — she  would  have,  then,  a  party  ready  to 
sup]>ort  her  :  this  became  dangerous. 

The  king  and  the  cardinal  immediately  took  their 
measures.  More  than  15,000  of  Charles's  subjects 
were  ordered  to  leave  London ;  the  arms  of  the  citi- 
zens were  seized,  "  in  order  that  they  might  have  no 
worse  weapon  than  the  tongue."  The  Flemish  coun- 
cillors accorded  to  Catherine  were  dismissed  after  they 
had  been  heard  by  the  king  and  Campeggio,  "  for  they 
had  no  commission  to  speak  to  the  other,  [Wolsey;]  and 
Hnally,  they  kept  "  a  groat  and  constant  watch  "  upon 
the  country'.  Men  feared  an  invasion  of  England,  aud 
Henry  was  not  of  a  humour  to  subject  his  kingdom  to 
the  pope. 

Tliis  was  not  enough ;  the  alarmed  king  thought  it 
his  duty  to  come  to  an  explanation  with  his  people ; 
and,  having  summoned  the  lords  spiritual  and  tempo- 
ral, the  judges,  the  members  of  the  privy-council,  the 
mayor  and  aldermen  of  the  city,  and  many  of  the  gen- 
try, to  meet  him  at  his  palace  of  Bridewell,  on  the  13th 
of  November,  he  said  to  them  with  a  very  condescend- 
ing air:  "Y'ou  know,  my  lords  and  gentlemen,  that  for 
these  twenty  years  past  Divine  Providence  has  granted 
our  coimtry  such  prosperity  as  it  had  never  known  be- 
fore. But  in  the  midst  of  all  the  glory  that  surrounds 
me,  the  thought  of  my  last  hour  often  occurs  to  me, 
and  I  fear,  that  if  I  should  die  without  an  heir,  my 
death  would  cause  more  damage  to  my  people  than  my 
life  has  done  them  good.  God  forbid,  that  for  want 
of  a  legitimate  king,  England  should  be  again  plunged 
into  the  horrors  of  civil  war!"  Then  calling  to  mind 
the  illegalities  invalidating  his  marriage  with  Cathe- 
rine, the  king  continued  :  "  These  thoughts  have  filled 
my  mind  with  anxiety,  and  are  continually  pricking  my 
conscience.  This  is  the  only  motive,  aud  God  is  my 
witness,  which  has  made  me  lay  this  matter  before  the 
pontiff.  As  touching  the  queen,  she  is  a  woman  in- 
comparable in  gentleness,  liiunility,  and  buxomness,  as 
I  these  twenty  years  have  had  experiment  of;  so  that, 
if  I  were  to  marry  again,  if  the  marriage  might  be 
good,  I  would  surely  choose  her  above  all  other  women. 
But  if  it  be  determined  by  judgment,  that  our  marriage 
was  against  God's  law,  and  surely  void,  then  I  shall 
not  only  sorrow  in  departing  from  so  good  a  lady  and 
loving  companion,  but  much  more  lament  aud  bewail 
my  unfortunate  chance,  that  I  have  so  long  lived  in 
adultery,  to  God's  great  displeasure,  aud  have  no  true 
heir  of  my  body  to  inherit  this  realm.  .  .  .  There- 
fore I  require  of  you  all  to  pray  with  us,  that  the  very 
truth  may  be  known,  for  the  discharging  of  our  con- 
science, and  the  saving  of  our  soul."  These  words, 
though  wanting  in  sincerity,  were  well  calculated  to 
soothe  men's  minds.  Unfortunately,  it  appears  that 
after  this  sjMcch  from  the  croion,  the  official  copy  of 
which  has  been  preserved,  Hemy  added  a  fcAV  words 


DU  BELLAY  SOLICITS  CAMPEGGIO. 


of  his  own.  "  If,  however,"  he  said,  according  to 
Dii  Bellay,  casting  a  threatening  glance  around  him, 
"  there  should  be  any  man  whatsoever  who  speaks  of 
liis  prince  iu  other  than  becoming  terms,  I  will  shew 
him  that  I  am  the  master ;  and  there  is  no  head  so 
high  that  I  will  not  roll  it  from  his  shoulders."  This 
was  a  speech  in  Henry's  style;  but  we  cannot  give 
unlimited  credit  to  Du  Bellay's  assertions,  this  diplo- 
matist being  very  fond,  like  others  of  his  class,  of 
"seasoning"  liis  despatches.  But  whatever  may  be 
the  fact  as  regards  the  postscript,  the  speech  on  the 
divorce  produced  an  effect.  From  that  time  there 
were  no  more  jests,  not  even  on  the  part  of  the 
Boleyns'  enemies.  Some  supported  the  king,  others 
were  content  to  pity  the  queeu  in  secret;  the  majority 
prepared  to  take  advantage  of  a  court-revolution  which 
every  one  foi-esaw.  "The  king  so  plaiiil//  gave  them 
to  understand  his  pleasure,"  says  the  French  ambas- 
sador, "  that  they  speak  more  soberly  than  they  have 
done  hitherto." 

Heniy,  wishing  to  silence  the  clamours  of  the  people, 
and  to  allay  the  fears  felt  by  the  higher  classes,  gave 
several  magnificent  entertainments,  at  one  time  in  Lon- 
don, at  another  at  Greenwich,  now  at  Hampton  Court, 
and  then  at  Richmond.  The  queen  accompanied  him, 
but  Anne  generally  remained  "  in  a  very  handsome 
lodging  which  Henry  had  furnished  for  her,"  says 
Du  Bellay.  The  cardinal,  following  his  master's  ex- 
ample, gave  representations  of  French  plays  with  great 
magnificence.  All  his  hope  was  in  France.  "I  de- 
sire nothing  in  England,  neither  in  word  nor  iu  deed, 
which  is  not  French,"  he  said  to  the  Bishop  of  Bayonne. 
At  length  Anne  Boleyn  had  accepted  the  brilliant  posi- 
tion she  had  at  first  refused,  and  every  day  her  stately 
mansion  (Suffolk  House)  was  filled  with  a  numerous 
court — "more  than  ever  had  crowded  to  the  queen." 
"  Yes,  yes,"  said  Du  Bellay,  as  he  saw  the  crowd  turn- 
ing towards  the  risin/j  sun ;  "  they  wish  by  these  little 
things  to  accustom  the  people  to  endm-e  her,  that  when 
great  ones  are  attempted,  they  may  not  be  found  so 
strange." 

In  the  midst  of  these  festivities  the  gi-aud  business 
did  not  slumber.  Vi'hen  the  French  ambiissador  solic- 
ited the  subsidy  intended  for  the  ransom  of  the  sons 
of  Francis  I.,  the  cardinal  required  of  him,  in  exchange, 
a  paper  proving  that  the  marriage  had  never  been 
valid.  Du  Bellay  excused  himself  on  the  ground  of 
his  age  and  want  of  learning ;  but,  being  given  to  un- 
derstand that  he  could  not  have  the  subsidy  without 
it,  he  wrote  the  memoir  iu  a  single  day.  The  enrap- 
tured cardinal  and  king  entreated  him  to  speak  witli 
Campcggio.  The  ambassador  consented,  and  succeeded 
beyond  all  expectation.  The  nuncio,  fully  aware  that 
a  bow  too  much  bent  will  break,  made  Henry,  by 
turns,  become  the  sport  of  hope  and  fear.  "  Take  care 
how  you  assert  that  the  pope  had  not  the  right  to  grant 
a  dispensation  to  the  king,"  said  he  to  the  French 
bishop;  "this  would  be  denying  his  power,  which  is  in- 
finite. But,"  added  he  in  a  mysterious  tone,  "  I  will 
point  out  a  road  that  will  infallibly  lead  you  to  the 
mark.  Shew  that  the  holy  father  has  been  deceived 
by  false  information.  Push  me  hard  on  that,"  he  con- 
tinued, "  so  as  to  force  me  to  declare  that  the  dispen- 
sation was  granted  on  erroneous  grounds."     Thus  did 


the  legate  himself  reveal  the  breach  by  wliich  the 
fortress  might  be  surprised.  "Victory!"  exclaimed 
IIeni;j,  as  he  entered  Aune's  apartments  all  beaming 
with  joy. 

But  this  confidence  on  the  part  of  Campeggio  was 
only  a  new  trick.  "  There  is  a  great  rumour  at  court," 
wrote  Du  Bellay  soon  after,  "  that  the  emperor  and 
the  King  of  France  are  coming  together,  and  leaving 
Henry  alone,  so  that  all  will  fall  on  his  shoulders." 
AVolsey,  finding  that  the  intrigues  of  diplomacy  had 
failed,  thought  it  his  duty  to  put  fresh  spriugs  in  mo- 
tion, "and  by  all  good  and  honest  means  to  gain  the 
pope's  favour."  He  saw,  besides,  to  his  great  sorrow, 
the  new  catholicity  then  forming  iu  the  world,  and 
uniting,  by  the  closest  bonds,  the  Christians  of  Eng- 
land to  those  of  the  Continent.  To  strike  down  one  of 
the  leaders  of  this  evangelical  movement  might  incline 
the  court  of  Rome  in  Henry's  favour.  The  cardinal 
tmdertook,  therefore,  to  persecute  Tyndale,  and  this 
resolution  will  now  transport  us  to  Germany 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Tnie  Catholicity  —  Wolsey— Honnan's  Matter— West  sent  to  Colognfr— 
Labours  of  Tj-ndaJe  and  Fryth— Rincke  at  Frankfort-He  makes  a  Dis- 
covery—Tyndale  at  Marburg — West  returns  to  England— His  Tortures 
in  tlie  Monastery. 

The  residence  of  Tyndale  and  his  friends  in  foreign 
countries,  and  the  connections  there  formed  with  pious 
Christians,  testify  to  the  fraternal  spirit  which  the 
Reformation  then  restored  to  the  Church.  It  is  in 
Protestantism  that  true  catholicity  is  to  be  found. 
The  Romish  Chiu-ch  is  not  a  catholic  church.  Separ- 
ated from  the  churches  of  the  East,  which  are  the  old- 
est in  Christendom,  and  from  the  Reformed  churches, 
which  are  the  purest,  it  is  nothing  but  a  sect,  and  that 
a  degenerated  one.  A  church  which  should  profess 
to  believe  in  an  episcopal  unity,  but  which  kept  itself 
separate  from  the  episcopacy  of  Rome  and  of  the  East, 
and  from  the  Evangelical  churches,  would  be  no  longer 
a  catholic  church ;  it  would  be  a  sect  more  sectarian 
still  than  that  of  the  Vatican — a  fragment  of  a  frag- 
ment. The  Church  of  the  Saviour  requires  a  truer,  a 
diviner  unity  than  that  of  priests,  who  condemn  one 
another.  It  was  the  reformers,  and  particularly  Tyn- 
dale, who  proclaimed  throughout  Chi-istendom  the 
existence  of  a  bocli/  of  Christ,  of  which  all  the  childi-en 
of  God  are  members.  The  disciples  of  the  Reforma- 
tion are  the  true  catholics. 

It  was  a  catholicity  of  another  sort  that  'Wolsey  de- 
sired to  uphold.  He  did  not  reject  certain  reforms  in 
the  church,  particularly  such  as  brought  him  any  pro- 
fit ;  but,  before  all,  he  wished  to  preserve  for  the  hier- 
archy their  privileges  and  uniformity.  The  Romish 
Church  in  England  was  then  personified  in  him,  and 
if  he  fell,  its  ruin  would  be  near.  His  political  talouts, 
and  multiplied  relations  with  the  Continent,  caused 
him  to  discern  more  clearly  than  others  the  dangers 
which  threatened  the  popedom.  The  publication  of 
the  Scriptures  of  God  in  English  appeared  to  some  a 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


cloud  witliout  importance,  -wliich  would  soon  disappear 
from  the  horizon ;  but  to  the  foreseeing  glance  of 
Wolsey,  it  betokened  a  mighty  tempest.  Besides,  he 
loved  not  the  fraternal  relations  then  forming  between 
the  evangelical  Christians  of  Great  Britain  and  of  other 
nations.  Annoyed  by  this  spiritual  catholicity,  he  re- 
solved to  prociu-e  the  arrest  of  Tyndale,  who  was  its 
principal  organ. 

Already  had  Hackett,  Henry's  envoy  to  the  Low 
Countries,  caused  the  imprisonment  of  Harman,  an 
Antwerp  merchant,  one  of  the  principal  supporters  of 
the  English  reformer.  But  Hackett  had  in  vain 
asked  Wolscy  for  such  documeuts  as  would  convict 
him  of  treason^  (for  the  crime  of  loving  the  Bible  was 
not  sufficient  to  procure  Harman's  condemnation  in 
Brabant;)  the  envoy  had  remained  without  letters 
from  England,  and  the  last  term  fixed  by  the  law 
having  expired,  Harman  and  his  wife  were  liberated 
after  seven  mouths'  imprisonment. 

And  yet  Wolscy  had  not  been  inactive.  The  car- 
dinal hoped  to  find  elsewhere  tlie  co-operation  which 
]\Iargaret  of  Austria  refused.  It  was  Tyndale  that  he 
wanted,  and  everything  seemed  to  iuilicate  that  he  was 
then  hidden  at  Cologne  or  in  its  neighbourhood.  Wol- 
scy, recollecting  senator  Eincke,  and  the  services  he 
had  already  performed,  determined  to  send  to  him  one 
John  West,  a  friar  of  the  Franciscan  convent  at  Green- 
wich. West,  a  somewhat  narrow-minded  but  energetic 
man,  was  very  desirous  of  distinguishing  himself,  and 
he  had  already  gained  some  notoriety  in  England 
among  the  adversaries  of  the  Reformation.  Flattered 
by  his  mission,  this  vain  monk  immediately  set  off 
for  Antwerp,  accompanied  by  anotlier  friar,  in  order 
to  seize  Tyndale,  and  even  Boy,  once  his  colleague  at 
Greenwich,  and  against  whom  he  had  there  ineffectu- 
ally contended  in  argument. 


GREAT   TOM   AT  OXFOPD 


While  these  men  were  conspiring  his  ruin,  Tyndale 
composed  several  works,  got  them  printed,  and  sent  to 
England,  and  prayed  God,  night  and  day,  to  enlighten 
his  fellow-countrymen.  "Why  do  you  give  yourself 
so  much  trouble ? "  said  some  of  his  friends.     "They 


will  burn  your  books  as  they  have  burnt  the  Gospel." 
— "  They  will  only  do  what  I  expect,"  replied  he,  "  if 
they  bum  me  also."  Already  he  beheld  his  own  burn- 
ing pile  in  the  distance ;  but  it  was  a  sight  which  only 
served  to  increase  his  zeal.  Hidden,  like  Luther  at 
the  Wartburg,  not  however  in  a  castle,  but  in  a  humble 
lodging,  Tyndale,  like  the  Saxon  refomier,  spent  his 
days  and  nights  translating  the  Bible.  But  not  hav- 
ing an  elector  of  Saxony  to  protect  him,  he  was  forced 
to  change  his  residence  from  time  to  time. 

At  this  epoch,  Fryth,  who  had  escaped  from  the 
prisons  of  Oxford,  rejoined  Tyndale,  and  the  sweets 
of  friendship  softened  the  bitterness  of  their  exile. 
Tyndale  having  finished  the  New  Testament,  and 
begun  the  translation  of  the  Old,  the  learned  Fryth 
was  of  great  use  to  him.  The  more  they  studied  the 
Word  of  God,  the  more  they  admired  it.  In  the  be- 
ginning of  1529,  they  published  the  books  of  Genesis 
and  Deuteronomy,  and  addressing  their  fellow-coun- 
trymen, they  said :  "  As  thou  readest,  think  that  every 
syllable  pertaiueth  to  thine  own  self,  and  suck  out  the 
pith  of  the  Scripture."  Then,  denying  that  visible 
signs  naturally  impart  grace,  as  the  schoolmen  had 
pretended,  Tyndale  maintained  that  the  sacraments 
are  effectual  only  when  the  Holy  Ghost  sheds  His 
influence  upon  them.  "  The  ceremonies  of  the  Law," 
he  wrote,  "  stood  the  Israelites  in  the  same  stead  as 
the  sacraments  do  us.  We  are  saved,  not  by  the 
power  of  the  sacrifice,  or  the  deed  itself,  but  by  virtue 
of  faith  in  the  promise,  whereof  the  sacrifice  or  ceremony 
was  a  token  or  sign.  The  Holy  Ghost  is  no  dumb  God, 
no  God  that  goeth  a  mumming.  Wherever  the  Word 
is  proclaimed,  this  inward  witness  worketh.  If  bap- 
tism preach  me  the  washing  in  Clirist's  blood,  so  doth 
the  Holy  Ghost  accompany  it ;  and  that  deed  of 
preaching  through  faith  doth  put  away  my  sins.  The 
ark  of  Noah  saved  them  in  the  water  through  faith." 

The  man  who  dared  address  England  in  language 
so  contrary  to  the  teaching  of  the  Middle  Ages  must 
be  imprisoned.  John  West,  who  had  been  sent  with 
this  object,  arrived  at  Antwerp;  Hackett  procured 
for  him,  as  interpreter,  a  friar  of  English  descent, 
made  him  assume  a  secular  dress,  and  gave  him 
"thiee  pounds"  on  the  cardinal's  account;  the  less 
attention  the  embassy  attracted,  the  more  likely  it 
^\  ould  be  to  succeed.  But  great  was  West's  vexation, 
on  leaching  Cologne,  to  learn  that*  Rincke  was  at 
Fiankfort.  But  tliat  mattered  not;  the  Greenwich 
monk  could  search  for  Tyndale  at  Cologne,  and  desire 

iicke   to    do    the    same   at   Frankfort;   thus,    there 

uld  be  two  searches  instead  of  oue.     West  procured 

s^\  if t "  messenger,  (he,  too,  was  a  monk,)  and  gave 
1  im  the  letter  Wolsey  had  addressed  to  Rincke. 

It  A\as  fair-time  at  Frankfort,  and  the  city  was 
tilled  with  merchants  and  their  wares.  As  soon  as 
Rincke  had  finished  reading  Wolsey 's  letter,  he  has- 
t<  lu  (1  to  the  burgomasters,  and  required  them  to 
<  rinh  (  ite  the  English  translations  of  the  Scriptures, 
and,  aliovc  all,  to  seize  "the  heretic  who  was  troubling 
England  as  Luther  troubled  Germany."  "Tyndale 
and  his  friends  have  not  appeared  in  our  fau-s  since 
the  month  of  March,  1528,"  replied  the  magistrates, 
"  and  we  know  not  whether  they  are  dead  or  alive." 

Rincke   was    not    discouraged.      John    School,   of 


TYNDALE  SOUGHT  AT  FRANKFORT. 


StrasburfT,  who  was  said  to  have  printed  Tyndale's 
books,  and  who  cared  loss  about  the  works  he  pub- 
lished than  the  money  he  drew  from  them,  happened 
to  be  at  Frankfort.  "Where  is  Tyndale.'"  Kincke 
asked  him. — "I  do  not  know,"  replied  the  printer; 
but  he  confessed  that  ho  had  printed  a  thousand 
Tolumes  at  the  request  of  Tyndale  and  Roy.  "  Bring 
them  to  me,"  continued  the  senator  of  Cologne. — "If 
a  fair  price  is  paid  me,  I  will  give  them  up  to  you." 
Rinckc  paid  all  that  was  demanded. 

AVolsey  would  now  be  gratified,  for  the  New  Testa- 
ment annoyed  him  almost  as  much  as  the  divorce ; 
this  book,  so  dangerous  in  his  eyes,  seemed  on  the 
point  of  raising  a  conflagration  which  would  infallibly 
consume  the  edifice  of  Roman  traditionalism.  Rincko, 
who  participated  in  his  patron's  fears,  impatiently 
opened  the  volumes  made  over  to  him  ;  but  there  was 
a  sad  mistake,  they  were  not  the  New  Testament,  not 
even  a  work  of  Tyndale's,  but  one  written  by  AVilliam 
Roy,  a  changeable  and  violent  man,  whom  the  re- 
former had  employed  for  some  time  at  Hamburg, 
and  who  had  followed  him  to  Cologne,  but  with  whom 
he  had  soon  become  disgusted.  "  I  bade  him  farewell 
for  our  two  lives,"  said  Tyudale,  "  and  a  day  longer." 
Roy,  on  quitting  the  reformer,  had  gone  to  Strasburg, 
where  he  boasted  of  his  relations  with  him,  and  had 
got  a  satire  iu  that  city  printed  against  Wolsey  and 
the  monastic  orders,  entitled,  "The  Burial  of  the  Muss:" 
this  was  the  book  delivered  to  Rincko.  The  monk's 
sarcastic  spirit  had  exceeded  the  legitimate  bounds  of 
controversy,  and  the  senator  accordingly  dared  not 
send  the  volumes  to  England.  He  did  not,  however, 
discontinue  his  inquiries,  but  searched  every  place 
where  he  thought  he  could  discover  the  New  Testa- 
ment, and  having  seized  all  the  suspected  volumes, 
set  off  for  Cologne. 

Yet  he  was  not  satisfied.  He  wanted  Tyndale,  and 
went  about  asking  every  one  if  they  knew  where  to 
find  him.  But  the  reformer,  whom  he  was  seeking 
in  so  many  places,  and  especially  at  Frankfort  and 
Cologne,  chanced  to  be  residing  at  about  equal  dis- 
tances from  these  two  towns,  so  that  Rincke,  while 
travelling  from  one  to  the  other,  might  have  met  him 
face  to  face,  as  Aliab's  messenger  met  Elijah.  Tyndale 
was  at  Marburg,  whither  ho  had  been  drawn  by 
several  motives.  Prince  Philip  of  Hesse  was  the 
great  protector  of  the  evangelical  doctrines.  The 
university  had  attracted  attention  in  the  Reform  by 
the  paradoxes  of  Lambert  of  Avignon.  Here,  a 
young  Scotchman  named  Hamilton,  afterwards  illus- 
trious as  a  martyr,  had  studied  shortly  before;  and 
here,  too,  the  celebrated  printer,  John  Luft,  had  his 
presses.  In  this  city  Tyndale  and  Fryth  had  taken 
up  their  abode,  in  September,  1528,  and,  hidden  on 
the  quiet  baidvs  of  the  Lahu,  were  translating  the  Old 
Testament.  If  Rincke  had  searched  this  place,  he 
could  not  have  failed  to  discover  them.  But  either 
he  thought  not  of  it,  or  was  afraid  of  the  terrible 
landgrave.  The  direct  road  by  the  Rhine  was  that 
which  he  followed,  and  Tyudale  escaped. 

AVhen  he  arrived  at  Cologne,  Rincke  had  an  im- 
mediate interview  with  West.  Their  investigations 
ha\ing  failed,  they  must  have  recourse  to  more  vigor- 
ous measures.     The  senator,  therefore,  sent  the  monk 


back  to  England,  accompanied  by  his  son  Hermann, 
charging  them  to  tell  AVolsoy:  "To  seize  Tyndale  we 
re(iuire  fidler  powers,  ratified  by  the  emperor.  The 
traitors  who  conspire  against  the  life  of  the  King  of 
England  are  not  tolerated  in  the  empire,  much  less 
Tyn<lale  and  all  those  who  consjiire  against  Christen- 
dom. He  must  be  put  to  death  ;  nothing  but  some 
striking  example  can  (dieck  the  Lutheran  heresy. 
And  as  to  ourselves,"  they  were  told  to  add,  "  by  the 
favour  of  God  there  may  possibly  be  an  opportunity 
for  his  royal  highness  and  your  grace  to  recompense 
us."  Riucke  had  not  forgotten  the  subsidy  of  tea 
thousand  ponmls  which  he  had  received  from  Heury 
VII.  f'>r  till-  'rmkish  war,  when  he  had  gone  to 
London  ii<  ,M;i\iiiiilian's  envoy. 

AVesl  ruliiriHil  Id  England  sorely  vexed  that  he  had 
failed  in  his  mission.  What  would  they  say  at  court 
and  in  his  monastery?  A  fresh  humiliation  was  in 
reserve  for  him.  Roy,  whom  West  had  gone  to  look 
for  on  the  banks  of  the  Rhine,  had  paid  a  visit  to  his 
mother  on  the  banks  of  the  Thames ;  and,  to  crown 
all,  the  nevf  doctrines  had  penetrated  into  his  own 
convent.  The  warden,  father  Robinson,  had  embraced 
them ;  and  night  and  day  the  Greenwich  monks  read 
that  New  Testament  which  West  had  gone  to  Cologne 
to  burn.  The  Antwerp  friar,  who  had  accompanied 
him  on  his  journey,  was  the  oidy  person  to  whom  he 
could  confide  his  sorrows ;  but  the  Franciscans  sent 
him  back  again  to  the  Continent,  and  then  amused 
themselves  at  poor  West's  expense.  If  he  desired  to 
tell  of  his  adventures  on  the  baid<s  of  the  Rhine,  he 
was  laughed  at ;  if  he  boasted  of  the  names  of  Wolsey 
and  Henry  VIII.,  they  jeered  him  still  more.  He 
desired  to  speak  to  Roy's  mother,  hoping  to  gain  some 
useful  information  from  her ;  this  the  monks  pre- 
vented. "  It  is  in  my  commission,"  he  said.  They 
ridiculed  him  more  and  more.  Robinson,  perceiving 
that  the  commission  made  West  assume  unbecoming 
airs  of  independence,  requested  AYolsey  to  withdraw 
it ;  and  West,  fancying  he  was  about  to  be  thrown 
into  prison,  exclaimed  in  alarm :  "  I  am  weary  of  my 
life  !"  and  conjured  a  friend  whom  he  had  at  court  to 
procure  him,  before  Christmas,  an  obedience  under  his 
lordship's  hand  and  seal,  enabling  him  to  leave  the 
monastery.  "  What  you  pay  him  for  it,"  he  added, 
"I  shall  see  you  be  reimbursed."  Thus  did  West 
expiate  the  fanatical  zeal  which  had  urged  him  to 
pursue  the  translator  of  the  oracles  of  God.  What 
became  of  him  we  know  not :  he  is  never  heard  of 
more. 

At  that  time  Wolsey  had  other  matters  to  engage 
him  than  this  "  obedience."  While  West's  complaints 
were  going  to  London,  those  of  the  king  were  travel- 
ling to  Rome.  The  great  business  in  the  cardinal's 
eyes  was  to  maintain  harmony  between  Henry  and  the 
Church.  There  was  no  more  thought  about  investi- 
gations in  Germany;  and  for  a  time  Tyndale  was 
saved. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


CHAPTER  V. 

Kecc5sity  of  tlie  Eeformation— Wolaey's  Eai-nealoesa  with  Da  Casale— An 
Audience  with  Clement  VII.— Cruel  Position  of  the  Pope— A  Judas 
Kiss— A  new  Biief— Bryan  and  Vannes  sent  to  Dome- Hemy  and  Du 
Bellay— Wolsey's  Reasons  against  tlio  Brief— Excitement  in  London— 
Motauioriiliosis- Wolsey's  Decline- His  Anguish . 

Tub  king  aud  a  part  of  bis  people  still  adhered  to  the 
popedom,  and  so  long  as  these  bonds  were  not  broken, 
the  Word  of  God  could  not  have  free  course.  But  to 
induce  England  to  renounce  Rome,  there  must,  indeed, 
be  powerful  motives ;  aud  these  were  not  wanting. 

Wolsey  had  never  given  such  pressing  orders  to  any 
of  Henry's  ambassadors.  "The  king,"  he  wrote  to 
Da  Casale,  on  the  1st  of  November,  1528,  "commits 
this  business  to  your  prudence,  dexterity,  and  fidelity; 
and  I  conjure  you  to  employ  all  the  powers  of  your 
genius,  and  even  to  surpass  them.  Be  very  sure  that 
you  have  done  nothing,  and  can  do  nothing,  that  will 
bo  more  agreeable  to  the  king,  more  desirable  by  me, 
and  more  useful  and  glorious  for  you  and  your 
family." 

Da  Casale  possessed  a  tenacity  which  justified  the 
cardinal's  confidence,  and  an  active  excitable  mind : 
trembling  at  the  thought  of  seeing  Rome  lose  England, 
he  immediately  requested  an  audience  of  Clement  VH. 
"What!"  said  he  to  the  pope,  "just  as  it  was  pro- 
posed to  go  on  with  the  divorce  your  nuncio  endeav- 
ours to  dissuade  the  king !  .  .  .  There  is  no  hope 
that  Catherine  of  Arragoa  will  ever  give  an  heir  to  the 
crown.  Holy  father!  there  must  be  au  end  of  this. 
Order  Campeggio  to  place  the  decretal  in  his  majesty's 
hands." — "  What  say  you ?  "  exclaimed  the  pope.  "I 
would  gladly  lose  one  of  my  fingers  to  recover  it  again, 
and  you  ask  me  to  make  it  public :  ...  it  would 
bo  my  I'uin."  Da  Casale  insisted :  "  We  have  a  duty 
to  perform,"  he  said;  "we  remind  you  at  this  last 
hour  of  the  perils  threatening  the  relations  which 
unite  Rome  aud  England.  The  crisis  is  at  baud.  We 
knock  at  your  door,  we  cry,  we  urge,  we  entreat,  we 
lay  before  you  the  present  aud  future  dangers  which 
threaten  the  papacy.  .  .  .  The  world  shall  know 
that  the  king  at  least  has  fulfilled  the  duty  of  a  devoted 
son  of  the  church.  If  your  holiness  desires  to  keep 
England  in  St.  Peter's  fold,  I  repeat,  .  .  .  now  is 
the  time,  .  .  .  now  is  the  time."  At  these  words 
Da  Casale,  unable  to  restrain  his  emotion,  fell  down 
at  the  pope's  feet,  aud  begged  him  to  save  the  church 
in  Great  Britain.  The  pope  was  moved.  "  Rise," 
said  he,  with  marks  of  unwonted  grief;  "I  grant  you 
all  that  is  in  my  power ;  I  am  willing  to  confirm  the 
judgment  which  the  legates  may  think  it  their  duty  to 
pass ;  but  I  acquit  myself  of  all  responsibility  as  to 
the  untold  evils  which  this  matter  may  bring  with  it. 
.  .  .  If  the  king,  after  having  defended  the  faith 
and  the  church,  desires  to  ruia  both,  ou  him  alone 
will  rest  the  responsibility  of  so  great  a  disaster." 
Clement  granted  nothing.  Da  Casale  withdrew  dis- 
heartened, and  feeling  convinced  that  the  pontiff  was 
about  to  treat  with  Charles  V. 

Wolsey  desired  to  save  the  popedom,  but  the  popedom 
resisted.    Clement  VII.  was  about  to  lose  that  island 


which  Gregory  the  Great  had  wou  with  such  difficulty. 
The  pope  was  in  the  most  cruel  position.  The  English 
envoy  had  hardly  left  the  palace  before  the  emperor's 
ambassador  entered,  breathing  threats.  The  unhappy 
pontiff  escaped  the  assaults  of  Henry  only  to  be  exposed 
to  those  of  Charles ;  he  was  thrown  backwards  aud  for- 
wards like  a  ball.  "  I  shall  assemble  a  general  coun- 
cil," said  the  emperor,  through  his  ambassador;  "aud 
if  you  are  found  to  have  infringed  the  canons  of  the 
church  in  any  point,  you  shall  be  proceeded  against 
with  every  rigour.  Do  uot  forget,"  added  his  agent 
in  a  low  tone,  "  that  your  birth  is  il/t'i/itiinate,  aud 
consequently  excludes  you  from  the  pontificate."  The 
timid  Clemeut,  imagining  that  ho  saw  the  tiara  falling 
from  his  head,  swore  to  refuse  Henry  everything. 
"  Alas  ! "  he  said  to  cue  of  his  dearest  confidants,  "  I 
repent  in  dust  aud  ashes  that  I  ever  granted  this 
decretal  bidl.  If  the  King  of  England  so  earnestly 
desires  it  to  be  given  him,  certainly  it  cannot  be 
merely  to  know  its  contents.  He  is  but  too  familiar 
with  them.  It  is  only  to  tie  my  hands  in  this  maiter 
of  the  divorce ;  I  would  rather  die  a  thousand  deaths." 
Clement,  to  calm  his  agitation,  sent  one  of  his  ablest 
gentlemen  of  the  bed-chamber.  Frauds  Campaua, 
apparently  to  feed  the  king  with  fresh  promises,  but 
in  reality  to  cut  the  only  thread  on  which  Henry's 
hopes  still  huug.  "  We  embrace  your  majesty,"  wrote 
the  pope,  iu  the  letter  given  to  Campana,  "  with  the 
paternal  love  your  numerous  merits  deserve."  Now 
Campaua  was  sent  to  England  to  bum  clandestinely 
the  famous  decretal,  Clement  concealed  his  blows  by 
an  embrace.  Rome  had  granted  many  divorces  not 
so  well  founded  as  that  of  Henry  VIII.;  but  a  very 
different  matter  from  a  divorce  was  in  question  here  : 
the  pope,  desirous  of  upraising  iu  Italy  his  shattered 
power,  was  about  to  sacrifice  the  Tudor,  and  to  pre- 
pare the  triumph  of  the  Reformation.  Rome  was 
separating  herself  from  Eugland. 

All  Clement's  fear  was,  that  Campana  wovdd  arrive 
too  late  to  burn  the  bull ;  he  was  soon  re-assureJ ;  a 
dead  calm  prevented  the  ffveat  matter  from  advancing. 
Campeggio,  who  took  care  to  be  iu  no  hurry  about 
his  mission,  gave  himself  up,  like  a  skilful  diplomatist, 
to  his  worldly  tastes ;  and  when  he  could  uot,  due 
respect  being  had  to  the  state  of  his  legs,  indulge  in 
the  chase,  of  which  he  was  very  fond,  he  passed  his 
time  ia  gambling,  to  which  he  was  much  addicted. 
Respectable  historians  assert  that  he  indulged  iu  still 
more  illicit  plcasui-es.  But  this  could  not  last  for 
ever,  aud  the  nuncio  sought  some  new  means  of  delay, 
which  offered  itself  iu  the  most  unexpected  mauuer. 
One  day  an  ofiicer  of  the  queen's  presented  to  the 
Roman  legate  a  brief  of  JiUius  II.,  bearing  the  same 
date  as  the  bull  of  dispeusation,  signed  too,  like  that, 
by  the  secretary  Sigismond,  and  iu  which  the  pope 
expressed  himself  in  such  a  manner  that  Henry's 
objections  fell  of  themselves.  "  The  emperor,"  said 
Catherine's  messenger,  "has  discovered  this  brief 
among  the  papers  of  Puebla,  the  Spanish  ambassador 
in  England  at  the  time  of  the  marriage."  "It  is 
impossible  to  go  ou,"  said  Campeggio  to  Wolsey;  "all 
your  reasoning  is  uow  cut  from  under  you.  We  nucst 
wait  for  fresh  instructions."  This  was  the  cardinal's 
couclusion  at  every  new  incident;  and  the   ioui-ney 


HENKY'S  CONFERENCE  WITH  DU  BELLAY. 


eoi 


from  Loiulon  to  tlio  Vatican  beiug  veiy  long,  (with- 
out rockoiiiii^  the  Kouiau  ililatoriucss,)  tlie  expedient 
was  iiifalliblf. 

Thus  there  existed  two  acts  of  the  same  pope, 
signed  oa  the  same  day — the  one  secret,  tlie  other 
l)ublic,  in  coutradiotiou  to  each  other.  Henry  detor- 
miued  to  send  ii  new  mission  to  Konie.  Anuc  ])ro- 
posed  for  this  embassy  one  of  tlie  most  accomplished 
gentlemen  of  the  court,  her  cousin.  Sir  Francis  Bryan. 
With  him  was  joined  an  Italian,  Peter  Vanncs, 
Henry's  Latin  secretary.  "  You  will  search  all  the 
registers  of  the  time  of  Julius  II.,"  said  "Wolsey  to 
them  ;  "  you  will  study  the  handwriting  of  secretary 
Sigismond ;  and  you  will  attenlivrly  oxamiue  the  ring 
of  the  fisherman  used  by  (hat  i)ontitf.  Moreover,  you 
will  inform  the  pope,  that  it  is  proi)osed  to  a  certain 
greyfriar,  named  Ue  Angelis,  in  his  place,  to  wliom 
Charles  would  give  the  spiritual  authority,  reserving 
the  temporal  for  himself.  You  will  manage  so  that 
Clement  takes  alarm  at  the  project,  and  you  will  then 
offer  him  a  guard  of  2000  men  to  protect  liim.  Y'ou 
will  ask  whether,  in  case  the  queen  should  desire  to 
embrace  a  religious  life,  ou  condition  of  the  king's 
doing  the  same,  and  Henry  should  yield  to  this  wish, 
he  could  have  the  assurance  that  the  pope  would  after- 
wards release  him  from  his  vows.  And,  finally,  you 
will  inquire  whether,  in  case  the  queen  should  refuse 
to  enter  a  convent,  the  pope  would  permit  the  king  to 
have  tiro  tvives,  as  we  see  in  the  Old  Testament." 
The  idea  which  has  brought  so  much  reproach  on  the 
Landgrave  of  Hesse  was  not  a  new  one ;  the  honour 
of  it  belongs  to  a  cardinal  and  legate  of  Rome,  what- 
ever Bossuet  may  say.  "  Lastly,"  continued  Wolsey, 
"  as  the  pope  is  of  a  timid  disposition,  you  will  not 
fail  to  season  your  remonstrances  with  threats.  Y'ou, 
Peter,  will  take  him  aside  and  toll  him,  that  as  an 
Italian,  having  more  at  heart  than  any  one  the  glory 
of  the  holy  see,  it  is  your  duty  to  warn  him,  that  if 
he  persists,  the  king,  his  realm,  and  many  other 
princes,  will  for  ever  separate  from  the  papacy." 

It  was  not  on  the  mind  of  the  pope  alone  that  it 
was  necessary  to  act ;  the  rumour  that  the  emperor 
and  the  King  of  France  were  treating  together  dis- 
turbed Henry.  Wolsey  had  vaiidy  tried  to  sound 
Du  Bellay;  these  two  priests  tried  craft  agaiust  craft. 
Besides,  the  Frenchman  was  not  always  seasonably 
informed  by  his  court,  letters  taking  ten  days  to  come 
fi'oni  Paris  to  London.  Henry  resolved  to  have  a 
conference  with  the  ambassador.  He  began  by  speak- 
ing to  him  of  /lis  matter,  says  Du  Bellay;  "and  I  pro- 
mise yon,"  he  added,  "that  he  needs  no  advocate,  he 
iniderstauds  the  whole  business  so  well."  Henry  next 
touched  upon  the  wrongs  of  Francis  I.,  "  recalling  so 
many  things  that  the  envoy  knew  not  Avhat  to  say." 
"I  pray  you,  Master  Ambassador,"  said  Henry  in 
conclnsiou,  "  to  beg  the  king,  my  brother,  to  give  up 
a  little  of  his  amusements  during  a  year  only,  for  the 
prompt  despatch  of  his  affairs.  Warn  those  whom  it 
concerns."  Having  given  this  spur  to  the  King  of 
France,  Henry  turned  his  thoughts  towards  Rome. 

In  truth,  the  fatal  brief  from  Spain  tormented  him 
day  and  night,  and  the  cardinal  tortured  his  mind  to 
find  proofs  of  its  non-authenticity;  if  he  could  do  so, 
he  would  acquit  the  papacy  of  the  charge  of  duplic- 


ity, and  accuse  the  emperor  of  forgery.  At  last  he 
thought  he  had  succeeded.  "  lu  the  first  place,"  he 
said  to  the  king,  "  the  brief  has  the  same  date  as  the 
bull.  Now,  if  the  errors  in  the  latter  had  been  found 
out  ou  the  day  it  was  drawn  up,  it  would  have  been 
more  natural  to  make  another  than  to  append  a  brief, 
pointing  out  the  errors.  What!  the  same  pope,  the 
same  day,  at  the  petition  of  the  same  persons,  give 
out  two  rescripts  for  one  effect,  one  of  which  contra- 
dicts the  other !  Either  the  bull  was  good,  and  then, 
why  the  brief  I  or  the  bull  Wiis  bad,  and  then,  why 
deceive  princes  by  a  worthless  bull?  Many  names 
are  found  in  the  brief  incorrectly  spelt,  and  these  are 
faults  which  the  pontifical  secretary,  whoso  accuracy 
is  so  well  known,  could  not  have  committed.'  Lastly, 
no  one  in  England  ever  heard  mention  of  this  brief ; 
and  yet  it  is  here  that  it  ought  to  be  found."  Henry 
charged  Knight,  his  principal  secretary,  to  join  the 
other  envoys  with  all  speed,  in  order  to  prove  to  the 
pope  the  supposititious  character  of  the  documeni. 

This  important  paper  revived  the  irritation  felt  in 
England  against  Charles  V.,  and  it  was  resolved  to 
come  to  extremities.  Every  one  discontented  with 
Austria  took  refuge  in  London,  particularly  the  Hun- 
garians. The  ambassador  from  Hungary  proposed  to 
Wolsey  to  adjudge  the  imperial  crown  of  Germany  to 
the  Elector  of  Saxony,  or  the  Landgrave  of  Hesse — 
the  two  chiefs  of  Protestantism.  Wolsey  exclaimed  in 
alarm  :  "  It  will  be  an  inconvenience  to  Christendom, 
they  are  so  Lutheran."  But  the  Hungarian  ambassador 
so  satisfied  him,  that  in  the  end  he  did  not  find  the 
matter  quite  so  inconvenient.  These  schemes  were 
prospering  in  London,  when  suddenly  a  new  metamor- 
phosis took  place  under  the  eyes  of  Du  Bellay.  The 
king,  the  cardinal,  and  the  ministers,  appeared  in 
strange  consternation.  Vincent  da  Casale  had  just 
arrived  from  Rome  with  a  letter  from  his  cousin,  the 
prothonotary,  informing  Henry  that  the  pope,  seeing 
the  triumph  of  Charles  V.,  the  indecision  of  Francis  I., 
the  isolation  of  the  King  of  England,  and  the  distress 
of  his  cardinal,  had  flung  himself  into  the  arms  of  the 
emperor.  At  Rome  they  went  so  far  as  to  jest  about 
AYolsey,  and  to  say  that  since  he  could  not  be  St. 
Peter,  they  would  make  him  St.  Paul. 

AVhile  they  were  ridiculing  Wolsey  at  Rome,  at 
St.  Germain's  they  were  joking  about  Henry.  "  I 
will  make  him  get  rid  of  the  notions  he  lias  in  his 
head,"  said  Francis ;  and  the  Flemings,  who  were 
again  sent  out  of  the  country,  said  as  they  left  Lon- 
don, "  that  this  year  they  would  carry  on  the  war  so 
vigorously,  that  it  would  be  really  a  sight  worth 
seeing." 

Besides  these  public  griefs,  Wolsey  had  his  private 
ones.  Anne  Boleyn,  who  had  already  begun  to  use 
her  influence  on  behalf  of  the  despotic  cardinal's 
victims,  gave  herself  no  rest  until  Cheyney,  a  courtier 
disgraced  by  Wolsey,  had  been  restored  to  the  king's 
favour.  Anne  even  gave  utterance  to  several  biting 
sarcasms  against  the  cardinal,  and  the  Duke  of  Norfolk 
and  his  party  began  "  to  speak  big,"  says  Du  Bellay. 
At  the  moment  when  the  pope,  scared  by  Charles  V., 

1  Queen  habcUa  was  called  Elizaheth  in  the  lirief ;  but  I  have  seen  a 
document  from  the  court  of  Madrid  in  which  Queen  Eli;;abeth  of  England 
was  called  Isabella ;  it  is  not,  therefore,  an  error  without  a  parallel. 


692 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


was  separating  fi'om  England,  Wolsey  himself  was 
tottering.  Who  shall  uphold  the  papacy?  .  .  . 
After  "Wolsey,  nobody!  Rome  was  on  the  point  of 
losing  the  power  which  for  nine  centuries  she  had 
exercised  in  the  bosom  of  this  illustrious  nation.  The 
cardinal's  anguish  cannot  be  described ;  unceasingly 
pureued  by  gloomy  images,  he  saw  Anne  on  the  throne 
causing  the  triumph  of  the  Reformation.  This  night- 
mare was  stifling  him.  "  His  grace,  the  legate,  is  in 
great  trouble,"  wrote  the  Bishop  of  Bayonne.  "  How- 
ever,    .     .     .     he  is  more  cunning  than  they  are." 

To  still  the  tempest  "Wolsey  had  only  one  resource 
left :  this  was  to  render  Clement  favourable  to  his 
master's  designs.  The  crafty  Campana,  who  had  burnt 
the  decretal,  conjured  him  not  to  believe  all  the  reports 
transmitted  to  him  concerning  Rome.  "To  satisfy 
the  king,"  said  he  to  the  cardinal,  "  the  holy  father 
will,  if  necessary,  descend  from  the  pontifical  throne." 
"Wolsey,  therefore,  resolved  to  send  to  Rome  a  more 
energetic  agent  than  Yannes,  Bryan,  or  Knight,  and 
east  his  eyes  on  Gardiner.  His  courage  began  to 
revive,  when  an  unexpected  event  fanned  once  more 
his  loftiest  hopes. 


CHAPTER  YI. 

Tlie  Pope's  Illness— Wolsey's  Desire— Conference  about  the  Members  of 
tbe  Conclave- Wolaey's  Instrncaons— The  Pope  recovers— Speech  of 
the  English  Envoys  to  the  Pope — Clement  willing  to  abandon  England 
— Tlie  English  demand  the  Pope's  Denial  of  the  Brief— Wolsey's  Alarm 
— Intrigues- Bryan's  clearsightedness — Henry's  Threats — Wolsey's  new 
EtTorts- He  calls  for  an  Appeal  to  Eome  and  retracts— Wolsey  and  Du 
Bellay  at  Richmond— The  Ship  of  the  State. 

On  the  6th  of  January,  1529,  the  feast  of  Epiphany, 
just  as  the  pope  was  performing  mass,  he  was  attacked 
by  a  sudden  illness ;  he  was  taken  to  liis  room  appar- 
ently in  a  dying  state.  'When  this  news  reached 
London,  the  cardinal  resolved  to  hasten  to  abandon 
England,  where  the  soil  trembled  under  his  feet,  and 
to  climb  boldly  to  the  throne  of  the  pontiffs.  Bryan 
and  Yannes,  then  at  Florence,  hurried  on  to  Rome 
through  roads  infested  with  robbers.  At  Orvieto  they 
were  informed  the  pope  was  better.  At  Yiterbo,  no 
one  knew  whether  he  was  alive  or  dead.  At  Ron- 
ciglione,  they  were  assured  that  he  had  expired ;  and, 
finally,  when  they  reached  the  metropolis  of  the  pope- 
dom, they  learnt  that  Clement  could  not  survive,  and 
that  the  imperialists,  supported  by  the  Colonnas,  were 
striving  to  have  a  pope  devoted  to  Charles  V. 

But  great  as  might  be  the  agitation  at  Rome,  it  was 
greater  still  at  Whitehall.  If  God  caused  De'  Medici 
to  descend  from  the  pontifical  throne,  it  could  only  be, 
tliought  Wolsey,  to  make  him  mount  it.  "  It  is  expe- 
dient to  have  such  a  pope  as  may  save  the  realm," 
said  he  to  Gardiner.  "And  although  it  cannot  but 
be  incommodious  to  me,  in  this  mine  old  age,  to  be  the 
common  father,  yet,  when  all  things  be  well  pondered, 
the  qualities  of  all  the  cardinals  well  considered,  I  am 
the  only  one — without  boasting — that  can,  and  will, 
remedy  the  king's  secret  matter.     And  were  it  not 


for  the  redintegration  of  the  state  of  the  church,  and 
especially  to  relieve  the  king  and  his  realm  from  their 
calamities,  all  the  riches  and  honour  of  the  world 
should  not  cause  me  to  accept  the  said  dignity. 
Nevertheless,  I  conform  myself  to  the  necessities  of 
the  times.  Wherefore,  Master  Stephen,  that  this 
matter  may  succeed,  I  pray  you  to  apply  all  your 
ingenuity — spare  neither  money  nor  labour.  I  give 
you  the  amplest  powers,  without  restriction  or  limi- 
tation." Gardiner  departed  to  win  for  his  master  the 
coveted  tiara. 

Henry  YUI.  and  Wolsey,  who  could  hardly  restrain 
their  impatience,  soon  heard  of  the  pontiff's  death 
from  different  quarters.  "  The  emperor  has  taken 
away  Clement's  life,"  said  Wolsey,  blinded  by  hatred. 
"  Charles,"  rejoined  the  king,  "  wiU  endeavour  to 
obtain  by  force  or  fraud  a  pope  according  to  his 
desires." — "Yes,  to  make  him  his  chaplain,"  replied 
AYolsey,  "  and  to  put  an  end,  by  degrees,  both  to  pope 
and  popedom."  "  We  must  fly  to  the  defence  of  the 
church,"  resumed  Henry ;  "  and  with  that  view,  my 
lord,  make  up  your  mind  to  be  pope." — "  That  alone," 
answered  the  cardinal,  "  can  bring  your  majesty's 
weighty  matter  to  a  happy  termination ;  and  by  saving 
you,  save  the  church  .  .  .  and  myself  also,"  ho 
thought  in  his  heart.  "  Lc-t  us  see,  let  us  coimt  the 
voters." 

Heniy  and  his  minister  then  wrote  down  on  a  strip 
of  parchment  the  names  of  all  the  cardinals,  marking 
with  the  letter  A,  those  who  were  on  the  side  of  the 
kings  of  England  and  France ;  and  with  the  letter  £, 
all  who  favoured  the  emperor.  "  There  was  no  C," 
says  a  chronicler  sarcastically,  "to  signify  any  on 
Christ's  side."  The  letter  N  designated  the  neutrals. 
"  The  cardinals  present,"  said  Wolsey,  "  will  not 
exceed  thirty-nine,  and  we  must  have  two-thii-ds — that 
is,  twenty-six.  Now,  there  are  twenty  upon  whom  we 
can  reckon ;  we  must,  therefore,  at  any  price,  gain  six 
of  the  neutrals." 

AVolsey,  deeply  sensible  of  the  importance  of  an 
election  that  would  decide  whether  England  was  to  be 
reformed  or  not,  carefully  drew  up  the  instructions, 
which  Heni-y  signed,  and  which  history  must  register. 
"  We  desire  and  ordain,"  the  ambassadors  were  in- 
formed in  them,  "  that  you  secure  the  election  of  the 
Cardinal  of  York  ;  not  forgetting,  that  next  to  the  sal- 
vation of  his  own  soul,  there  is  nothing  the  king  desires 
more  earnestly. 

"  To  gain  over  the  neutral  cardinals  you  will  employ 
two  methods  in  particular.  The  first  is,  the  cardinals 
being  present,  and  having  God  and  the  Holy  Ghost 
before  them,  you  shall  remind  them  that  the  Cardinal 
of  York  alone  can  save  Chi-istendom. 

"The  second  is,  because  human  fragility  suffereth 
not  all  things  to  be  pondered  and  weighed  in  a  just 
balance,  it  appertaineth  in  matter  of  so  high  import- 
ance to  the  comfort  and  relief  of  all  Christendom,  to 
succour  the  infirmity  that  may  chance,  .  .  .  not 
for  corruption,  you  will  understand,  .  .  .  but  rather 
to  help  the  lacks  and  defaults  of  human  nature.  And, 
therefore,  it  shall  be  expedient  that  you  promise 
spiritual  offices,  dignities,  rewards  of  money,  or  other 
things,  which  shall  seem  meet  to  the  purpose. 

"  'Then  shall  you,  with  good  dexterity,  combiue  and 


THE  DIVORCE  DEMANDED. 


knit  tliosc  favourable  to  us  in  a  perfect  fastness  and 
indissoluble  knot.  And  that  they  may  be  the  better 
animated  to  finish  the  election  to  the  king's  desire, 
you  shall  offer  them  a  guard  of  2000  or  3000  men 
from  the  kings  of  England  and  France,  from  the 
viscount  of  Turin,  and  the  republic  of  Venice. 

"  If,  notwitlistanding  all  your  exertions,  the  elec- 
tion should  fail,  then  the  cardinals  of  the  kings  shall 
repair  to  some  sure  place,  and  there  proceed  to  such 
an  election  as  may  be  to  God's  pleasure. 

"And  to  win  more  friends  for  the  king,  you  shall 
promise,  on  the  one  hand,  to  the  Cardinal  dc'  Medici 
and  his  party,  our  special  favour ;  and  the  Florentines, 
on  the  other  hand,  you  shall  put  in  comfort  of  the 
exclusion  of  the  said  family  De'  Medici.  Likewise, 
you  shall  put  the  cardinals  in  perfect  hope  of  recover- 
ing the  patrimony  of  the  church ;  aud  you  shall  con- 
tain the  Venetians  in  good  trust  of  a  reasonable  way 
to  be  taken  for  Ccrvia  and  Ravenna  (which  formed 
part  of  the  patrimony)  to  their  contentment." 

Such  were  the  means  by  which  the  cardinal  hoped 
to  win  the  papal  throne.  To  the  right  he  said  i/es;  to 
the  left  he  said  no.  "What  would  it  matter  that  these 
perfidies  were  one  day  discovered,  provided  it  were 
after  the  election?  Christendom  might  be  very  cer- 
tain that  the  choice  of  the  future  pontiff  would  be  the 
work  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  Alexander  "\'I.  liad  been 
a  poisoner ;  Julius  II.  had  given  way  to  ambition, 
anger,  and  vice ;  the  liberal  Leo  X.  had  passed  his 
life  in  worldly  pursuits ;  the  unhappy  Clement  VII. 
had  lived  on  stratagems  and  lies ;  AVolsey  would  be 
their  worthy  successor : 


■\Volsey  found  his  excuse  in  the  thought,  that  if  he 
succeeded,  the  divorce  was  secured,  and  England 
enslaved  for  ever  to  the  court  of  Rome. 

Success  at  first  appeared  probable.  Many  cardinals 
spoke  openly  in  favour  of  the  English  prelate ;  one  of 
them  asked  for  a  detailed  account  of  his  life,  in  order 
to  present  it  as  a  model  to  the  churcli ;  another  woi-- 
shipped  him  (so  he  said)  as  a  diviuity.  .  .  .  Among 
the  gods  and  popes  adored  at  Rome,  there  were  some 
no  better  than  he.  But  ere  long  alarming  news  reached 
England.  AVhat  grief!  the  pope  was  getting  better. 
"  Conceal  your  instructions,"  wrote  the  cardinal,  "aud 
reserve  them  in  omnem  eventum." 

Wolsey  not  having  obtained  the  tiara,  it  was  neces- 
sary at  least  to  gaiu  the  divorce.  "  God  declares," 
said  the  English  ambassadors  to  the  pope,  '•'■Except  the 
Lord  build  the  house,  they  lahour  in  vain  that  build  it. 
Therefore,  the  king,  taking  God  alone  for  his  guide, 
requests  of  you,  in  the  first  place,  an  engagement  to 
pronounce  the  divorce  in  the  space  of  three  months ; 
and,  in  the  second,  the  avocation  to  Rome." — "The 
promise  first,  aud  only  after  that  the  avocation," 
Wolsey  had  said;  "for  I  fear  that  if  the  pope  be- 
gins with  the  avocation,  he  will  never  pronounce  the 
divorce." — "  Besides,"  added  the  envoys,  "  the  king's 
second  marriage  admits  of  no  refusal,  whatever  bulls 
or  briefs  there  may  be.  The  only  issue  of  this  matter 
is  the  divorce — the  divorce  in  one  way  or  another 
must  be  procured." 

"Wolsey  had  instructed  his  envoys  to  pronounce  these 


words  with  a  certain  air  of  familiarity,  and,  at  the  same 
time,  with  a  gravity  calculated  to  produce  an  effect. 
Ilis  expectations  were  deceived :  Clement  was  colder 
llian  ever.  He  had  determined  to  abandon  England 
in  order  that  he  might  secure  the  States  of  the  Chiu'ch 
— of  which  Charles  was  then  master — tluis  sacrificing 
the  spiritual  to  the  temporal.  "  The  pope  will  not  do 
the  least  thing  for  your  majesty,"  wrote  Bi-yan  to  the 
king;  "your  matter  may  well  be  in  his  Pater  noster, 
but  it  certainly  is  not  in  his  Credo." — "  Increase  in 
importunity,"  answered  the  king;  "the  Cardinal  of 
Verona  should  remain  about  the  pope's  person  and 
counterbalance  the  influence  of  De  Angelis  and  the 
Archbishop  of  Capua.  I  would  rather  lose  my  two 
crownis  than  be  beaten  by  these  two  friars." 

Thus  was  the  struggle  about  to  become  keener  than 
ever,  when  Clement's  relapse  once  more  threw  doubt  on 
everything.  He  was  always  between  life  aiul  death  ; 
and  this  perpetual  alternation  agitated  the  king  and 
tlie  impatient  cardinal  in  every  way.  The  latter  con- 
sidered that  the  pope  had  need  of  merits  to  ciiter  the 
kingdom  of  heaven.  "  Procure  an  interview  with  the 
pope,"  he  wrote  to  the  envoys,  "  even  though  he  be  in 
the  veiy  agony  of  deatli ;  and  represent  to  him,  that 
notliiug  will  be  more  likely  to  save  his  soul  than  the 
bill  of  divorce."  Henry's  commissioners  were  not 
admitted;  but  towards  the  end  of  March,  the  deputies 
appearing  in  a  body,  the  pope  promised  to  examine  the 
letter  from  Spain.  Vanues  began  to  fear  this  docu- 
ment ;  he  represented  that  those  who  had  fabricated 
it  would  have  been  able  to  give  it  an  appearance  of 
authenticity.  "  Rather  declare  immediately  that  this 
brief  is  not  a  brief,"  said  he  to  the  pope.  "  Tlie  King 
of  England,  who  is  your  holiness's  son,  is  not  so  like 
the  rest  of  the  world.  "We  cannot  put  the  same  shoe 
on  eveiy  foot."  This  rather  vulgar  argument  did  not 
touch  Clement.  "  If  to  content  your  master  in  this 
business,"  said  he,  "  I  cannot  employ  ray  head,  at  least 
I  will  my  finger."—"  Bo  pleased  to  explain  yoiu-self," 
replied  Vanues,  who  found  the  Jinrjer  a  very  little 
matter.  "I  mean,"  resumed  the  pontiff,  "  that  I  shall 
employ  e^eiy  means,  provided  they  are  honourable." 
Vanues  withdrew  disheartened. 

He  immediately  conferred  with  his  colleagues,  and 
all  together,  alarmed  at  the  idea  of  Heniy's  anger, 
returned  to  the  pontiff ;  they  thrust  aside  the  lackeys, 
who  endeavoured  to  stop  them,  and  made  their  way 
into  his  bed-chamber.  Clement  opposed  them  with 
that  resistance  of  inertia  by  which  the  popedom  has 
gained  its  greatest  victories  :  siluit,  he  reraaiucd  silent. 
Of  what  consequence  to  the  pontiff  were  Tudor,  his 
island,  aud  his  church,  when  Charles  of  Austria  was 
threatening  him  with  his  armies '?  Clement,  less  proud 
than  Ilildebrand,  submitted  willingly  to  the  emperor's 
power,  provided  the  emperor  would  protect  him.  "  I 
had  rather,"  he  said,  "be  Ca?sar's  servant,  not  only  in 
a  temple,  but  in  a  stable  if  necessary,  than  be  exposed 
to  the  insults  of  rebels  aud  vagabonds."  At  the  same 
time  he  wrote  to  Campeggio :  "  Do  not  irritate  the 
king,  but  spin  out  this  matter  as  much  as  possible ;  the 
Spanish  brief  gives  us  the  means." 

In  fact  Charles  V.  had  twice  shewn  Lee  t'ne  original 
document ;  and  AVolsey,  after  this  ambassador's  report, 
began  to  believe  that  it  was  not  Charles  who  had 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


forged  the  brief,  but  that  Pope  Julius  II.  had  really 
given  two  contradictory  documents  on  the  same  day. 
Accordingly,  the  cardinal  now  feared  to  see  this  letter 
iu  the  pontiff's  hands.  "Do  all  you  can  to  dissuade 
the  pope  from  seeking  the  original  in  Spain,"  wrote 
he  to  one  of  his  ambassadors  ;  "  it  may  exasperate  the 
emperor."  We  know  how  cautious  the  cardinal  was 
towards  Charles.  Intrigue  attained  its  highest  point 
at  this  epoch,  and  Englishmen  and  Romans  encoun- 
tered craft  with  craft.  "  In  such  ticklish  negotiations," 
says  Burnet,  (who  had  had  some  little  experience  in 
diplomacy,)  "ministers  must  say  and  unsay  as  they 
are  instructed,  which  goes,  of  course,  as  a  part  of  their 
business."  Henry's  envoys  to  the  pope  intercepted 
the  letters  sent  from  Rome,  aud  had  Campeggio's 
seized.  On  his  part,  the  pope  indulged  in  flattering 
smiles  and  perfidious  equivocations.  Bryan  wrote  to 
Henry  VIII. :  "Always  your  grace  hath  done  for  him 
in  deeds,  aud  he  hath  recompensed  you  with  fair  u-ords, 
and  fair  u-ritiiiffs,  of  which  both,  I  think,  your  grace 
shall  lack  none  ;  but  as  for  the  deeds,  I  never  believe 
to  see  them,  and  especially  at  this  time."  Bryan  had 
comprehended  the  court  of  Rome  better,  perhaps,  than 
many  politicians.  Finally,  Clement  himself,  wishing 
to  prepare  the  king  for  the  blow  he  was  about  to 
inflict,  wrote  to  him :  "  We  have  been  able  to  find 
nothing  that  would  satisfy  your  ambassadors." 

Henry  thought  he  knew  what  this  message  meant : 
that  he  had  found  nothing,  and  would  find  nothing; 
and,  accordingly,  this  prince,  who,  if  we  may  believe 
Wolsey,  had  hitherto  shewn  incredible  patience  and 
gentleness,  gave  way  to  all  his  violence.  "Very 
well,  then,"  said  he ;  "  my  lords  and  I  well  know 
how  to  withdraw  ourselves  from  the  authority  of 
the  Roman  see."  Wolsey  turned  pale,  and  conjured 
his  master  not  to  rush  into  that  fearful  abyss. 
Campeggio,  too,  endeavoured  to  revive  the  king's 
hopes ;  but  it  was  all  of  no  use.  Henry  recalled  his 
ambassadors. 

Henry,  it  is  true,  had  not  yet  reached  the  age  when 
violent  characters  become  inflexible  from  the  habit 
they  have  encouraged  of  yielding  to  their  passions. 
But  the  cardinal,  who  knew  his  master,  knew  also 
that  his  inflexibility  did  not  depend  upon  the  number 
of  his  years  ;  he  thought  Rome's  power  in  England 
was  lost,  and,  placed  between  Henry  and  Clement,  he 
exclaimed :  "  How  shall  I  avoid  Scylla,  and  not  fall 
into  Chaiybdis  ?  "  He  begged  the  king  to  make  one 
last  effort,  by  sending  Dr.  Beunct  to  the  pope,  with 
orders  to  support  the  avocation  to  Rome,  and  he  gave 
him  a  letter  in  which  he  displayed  all  the  resources  of 
his  eloquence.  "  How  can  it  be  imagined,"  he  wrote, 
"  that  the  persuasions  of  sense  urge  the  king  to  break 
a  union  iu  which  the  ardent  j'ears  of  his  youth  were 
passed  with  such  purity?  .  .  .  The  matter  is 
very  different.  I  am  on  the  spot,  I  know  the  state  of 
men's  minds.  .  .  .  Pray,  believe  me.  .  .  . 
The  divorce  is  the  secondary  question.  The  primary 
one  is  t/ie  ftdelifi/  of  this  realm  to  the  papal  see.  The 
nobility,  gentiy,  and  citizens,  all  exclaim  with  indig- 
nation :  Must  our  fortunes — and  even  our  lives— de- 
pend upon  the  nod  of  a  foreigner?  We  must  abolish, 
or,  at  the  very  least,  diminish,  the  authority  of  the 
Roman  pontiff.     .     .     .     Most  holy  father,  we  can- 


not mention  such  things  without  a  shudder."  .  .  . 
This  new  attempt  was  also  unavailing.  The  pope 
demanded  of  Henry  how  he  could  doubt  his  goodwill, 
seeing  that  the  King  of  England  had  done  so  much  for 
the  apostolic  see.  This  appeared  a  cruel  irony  to 
Tudor.  The  king  requested  a  favour  of  the  pope,  and 
the  jjope  replied  by  calling  to  mind  those  which  the 
papacy  had  received  from  his  hands.  "  Is  this  the 
way,"  men  asked  in  England,  '•  in  which  Rome  pays 
her  debts?" 

Wolsey  had  not  reached  the  term  of  liis  misfortunes. 
Gardiner  and  Bryan  had  just  returned  to  London; 
they  declared  that  to  demand  an  avocation  to  Rome, 
was  to  lose  their  cause.  Accordingly  Wolsey,  who 
turned  to  every  wind,  ordered  Da  Casale,  in  case 
Clement  should  pronounce  the  avocation,  to  appeal 
from  the  pope,  the  false  head  of  the  church,  to  the  true 
vicar  of  Jesus  Christ.  This  was  almost  in  Luther's 
style.  Who  was  this  true  vicar  .^  Probably  a  pope 
nominated  by  the  influence  of  England. 

But  this  proceeding  did  not  assure  the  cardinal :  he 
was  losing  his  judgment.  A  short  time  before  th.is, 
Du  Bella}',  who  had  just  returned  from  Paris,  whither 
he  had  gone  to  retain  France  on  the  side  of  England, 
had  been  invited  to  Richmond  by  Wolsey.  As  the 
two  prelates  were  walking  in  the  park,  on  that  hill 
whence  the  eye  ranges  over  the  fertile  and  undulating 
fields  through  which  the  winding  Thames  pours  its 
tranquil  waters,  the  unhappy  cardinal  observed  to  the 
bishop  :  "  My  trouble  is  the  greatest  that  ever  was  ! 
.  .  .  I  have  excited  and  carried  on  this  matter  of 
the  divorce  to  dissolve  the  union  between  the  two 
houses  of  Spain  and  England,  by  sowing  misunder- 
standing between  them,  as  if  I  had  no  part  iu  it.  You 
know  it  was  iu  the  interest  of  France;  I  therefore 
entreat  the  king,  your  master,  and  her  majesty,  to  do 
everything  that  may  forward  the  divorce.  I  shall 
esteem  such  a  favour  more  than  if  they  made  me 
pope  ;  but  if  they  refuse  me,  my  ruin  is  inevitable." 
And  then  giving  way  to  despair,  he  exclaimed: 
"Alas!  would  that  I  were  going  to  be  buried  to- 
morrow ! " 

The  wretched  man  was  drinking  the  bitter  cup  his 
perfidies  had  prepared  for  him.  All  seemed  to  con- 
spire against  Henry,  and  Bennet  was  recalled  shortly 
after.  It  was  said  at  court  and  in  the  city :  "  Since 
the  pope  sacrifices  us  to  the  emperor,  let  us  sacrifice 
the  pope."  Clemeut  YIL,  intimidated  by  the  threats 
of  Charles  V.,  and  tottering  upon  his  throne,  madly 
repelled  with  his  foot  the  bark  of  England.  Europe 
was  all  attention,  and  began  to  think  that  the  proud 
vessel  of  Albion,  cutting  the  cable  that  boimd  her  to 
the  pontiffs,  would  boldly  spread  her  canvas  to  the 
winds,  and  ever  after  sail  the  sea  alone,  wufted  on- 
wards by  the  breeze  that  conies  from  heaven. 

The  influence  of  Rome  over  Europe  is  in  great 
measure  political.  It  loses  a  kingdom  by  a  royal 
quarrel,  and  might,  iu  this  same  way,  lose  teu. 


TEWKESBUKY  BEFORE  THE  BISHOPS. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Discussion  between  the  Evangelicals  and  the  Catholics— Union  of  Loani- 
iiig  and  Life— The  Ijiity— Tcwiccsburj-— His  Appcnranco  before  the 
Bishops'  Court— He  is  Torturcil— Tivo  Classes  of  Opponents— A  Tlieo- 
logical  Dnel— Scripture  anj  the  Church— Emancipation  of  the  Mind- 
Mission  to  the  F-ow  Countries- Tyndalc's  Einbarrassincnt— Tonstall 
wishes  to  buy  the  Books— racliiuglon's  Stratagem— Tyndalo  Departs 
for  Antwerp— His  Shipwreck— Arrival  at  Hamburg— Meets  Coverdale. 

Otiiek  eircuiiisfances  from  day  to  day  rendered  the 
emancipation  of  the  church  moi-e  necessary.  If  be- 
hind these  political  debates  there  had  not  been  found 
a  Ciiristiau  people,  resolved  never  to  temporize  with 
error,  it  is  probable  that  England— after  a  few  years 
of  independence — would  have  fallen  back  into  the 
bosom  of  Rome.  The  affair  of  the  divorce  was  not 
the  only  one  agitating  men's  minds;  the  religious 
controversies,  which  for  some  years  filled  the  Con- 
tinent, were  always  more  animated  at  Oxford  and 
Cambridge.  The  Evangeliccds  and  the  Catholics  (not 
very  catholic  indeed)  warmly  discussed  the  great  ques- 
tions which  the  progress  of  events  brought  before  the 
world.  The  former  maintained  that  the  primitive 
church  of  the  apostles,  and  the  actual  church  of  the 
papacy,  were  not  identical;  the  latter  affirmed,  on 
the  contrary,  the  identity  of  Popery  and  Apostolic 
Christianity.  Other  Romish  doctors,  iu  later  times, 
finding  this  position  somewhat  embarrassing,  have 
asserted  that  Catholicism  existed  only  in  the  germ  in 
the  Apostolic  Cluireh,  and  had  subsequently  developed 
itself.  But  a  thousand  abuses — a  thousand  errors 
may  creep  into  a  church  under  cover  of  this  theory. 
A  plant  springs  from  the  seed,  and  grows  up  in  accord- 
ance with  immutable  laws,  whilst  a  doctrine  caurot  be 
transformed  in  the  mind  of  man  without  falling  under 
the  influence  of  sin.  It  is  true  that  the  disciples  of 
Popeiy  have  supposed  a  constant  action  of  the  Divine 
Spirit  in  the  Catholic  Clmrch,  which  excludes  every 
iuHuence  of  error.  To  stamp  on  the  development  of 
the  church  the  character  of  truth,  they  have  stamped 
on  the  chm-ch  itself  the  character  of  infallibility; 
quod  erat  demonstrandum.  Their  reasoning  is  a  mere 
begging  of  the  question.  To  know  whether  the  Romish 
development  is  identical  with  the  Gospel,  we  must 
examine  it  by  Scripture. 

It  was  not  university  men  alone  who  occupied  them- 
selves with  Christian  truth.  The  separation  which 
has  been  remarked  in  other  times  between  the  opinions 
of  the  people  and  of  the  learned,  did  not  now  exist. 
What  the  doctors  taught  the  citizens  practised ;  Oxford 
and  Loudon  embraced  each  other.  The  theologians 
knew  that  learning  has  need  of  life,  and  the  citizens 
believed  that  life  has  need  of  that  learning  which 
derives  the  doctrine  from  the  wells  of  the  Scriptures  of 
God.  It  was  the  harmony  between  these  two  elements 
• — the  one  theological,  the  other  practical — which  con- 
stituted the  strength  of  the  English  Reformation. 

The  evangelical  life  iu  the  capital  alarmed  the  clergy 
more  than  the  evangelical  doctrine  in  the  colleges. 
Since  Monmouth  had  escaped,  they  must  strike  another. 
Among  the  London  merchants  was  John  Tewkesbuiy, 
one  of  the  oldest  friends  of  the  Scriptures  in  England. 


As  early  as  1.512,  he  had  become  possessor  of  a  manu- 
script copy  of  the  Bible,  and  had  attentively  studied  it 
"When  Tyndale's  New  Testament  appeared,  he  read 
it  with  avidity;  and,  finally,  "The  Wicked  Mammon" 
had  completed  tiie  work  of  his  conversion.  Being  a 
man  of  heart  and  understanding,  clever  in  all  he 
undertook,  a  ready  and  fluent  speaker,  and  liking  to 
get  to  the  bottom  of  everything,  Tewkesbury,  like 
Monmouth,  became  very  influential  in  the  city,  and 
one  of  the  most  learned  in  Scripture  of  any  of  the 
evangelicals.  These  generous  Christians,  being  deter- 
mined to  consecrate  to  God  the  good  things  they  liad 
received  from  Ilim,  were  the  first  among  that  long 
series  of  laymen  who  were  destined  to  be  more  useful 
to  the  truth  than  many  ministers  and  bishops.  They 
found  time  to  interest  themselves  about  the  most  trifling 
details  of  the  kingdom  of  God ;  and  in  the  history  of 
the  Reformation  in  Britain,  their  names  should  be 
inscribed  beside  those  of  Latimer  and  Tyndale. 

The  activity  of  these  laymen  could  not  escape  the 
cardinal's  notice.  Clement  VII.  w-as  abandoning  Eng- 
land :  it  was  necessary  for  the  English  bishops,  by 
crushing  the  heretics,  to  shew  that  they  would  not 
abandon  the  popedom.  AVe  can  understand  the  zeal 
of  these  prelates ;  and,  without  excusing  their  perse- 
cutions, we  are  disposed  to  extenuate  their  crime. 
The  bishops  determined  to  ruin  Tewkesbury.  One  day 
in  April,  1.529,  as  he  was  busy  among  his  peltries,  the 
officers  entered  his  warehouse,  arrested  him,  and  led 
him  away  to  the  Bishop  of  London's  chapel,  where, 
besides  the  ordinary,  (Tonstall,)  the  bishops  of  Ely, 
St.  Asaph,  Bath,  and  Lincoln,  with  the  Abbot  of 
AVestmiuster,  were  on  the  bench.  The  composition 
of  this  tribunal  indicated  the  importance  of  his  case. 
The  emancipation  of  the  laity,  thought  these  judges, 
is  perhaps  a  more  dangerous  heresy  than  justilication 
by  faith. 

"  John  Tewkesbui-y,"  said  the  Bishop  of  London, 
"  I  exhort  you  to  trust  less  to  your  own  wit  and 
learning,  and  more  unto  the  doctrine  of  the  holy 
mother  the  church."  Tewkesbury  made  answer,  tliat 
in  his  judgment  he  held  no  other  doctrine  than  that  of 
the  Church  of  Christ.  Tonstall  then  broached  tiie 
principal  charge,  that  of  having  read  "  The  Wicked 
Mammon;"  and  after  quoting  several  passages,  he 
exclaimed:  "Renounce  these  errors." — "I  tind  no 
fault  in  the  book,"  replied  Tewkesbury.  '"It  has 
enlightened  my  conscience  and  consoled  my  heart. 
But  it  is  not  my  Gospel.  I  have  studied  the  Holy 
Scriptures  these  seventeen  years,  and  as  a  man  sees 
tlic  spots  of  his  face  iu  a  glass,  so,  by  reading  them, 
I  have  learnt  the  faults  of  my  soul.  If  there  is  a 
disagreement  between  you  and  the  New  Testament, 
put  yourselves  in  harmony  with  it,  rather  than  desire 
to  put  that  in  accord  with  you."  The  bishops  were 
surprised  that  a  leather-seller  should  speak  so  well, 
and  quote  Scripture  so  happily,  that  they  were  unable 
to  resist  him.  Annoyed  at  being  catechised  by  a  lay- 
man, the  bishops  of  Batli,  St.  Asaph,  and  Lincoln, 
thought  they  could  conquer  him  more  easily  by  the  rack 
thau  by  their  arguments.  He  was  taken  to  the  Tower, 
where  they  ordered  him  to  be  put  to  the  torture.  His 
limbs  were  crushed,  -which  was  contrary  to  the  laws 
of  England;  and  the  violence  of  the  rack  tore  from 


HISTORY  OF  THE  EEFORMATION. 


him  a  cry  of  agony,  to  which  the  priests  replied  by  a 
shout  of  exultation.  The  inflexible  merchant  had  pro- 
mised at  last  to  renounce  Tyndale's  "AVicked  Mammon." 
Tewkesbmy  left  the  Tower  "  almost  a  cripple,"  and 
returned  to  his  house  to  lament  the  fatal  word  which 
the  question  had  extorted  from  him,  and  to  prepare  in 
the  silence  of  faith  to  confess  in  the  burning  pile  the 
precious  name  of  Christ  Jesus. 

We  must,  however,  acknowledge,  that  the  "question" 
was  not  Eome's  only  argument.     The  Gospel  had  two 
classes  of  opponents  in  the  sixteenth  century,  as  in  the 
first  ages  of  the  Church.     Some  attacked  it  with  the 
torture,  others  with  their  writings.    Sir  Thomas  More, 
I     a  few  years  later,  was  to  have  recourse  to  the   first 
I     of  these  arguments ;  but  for  tlie  moment  he  took  up 
I     his  pen.      He  had  first  studied  the  writings   of  the 
Fathers    of   the  Church,   and   of   the    reformers,   but 
rather  as  an  advocate  than  as  a  theologian ;  and  then, 
armed  at  all  points,  he  rushed  into  the  arena  of  polem- 
ics, and  in  his  attacks  dealt  those  '■  technical  convic- 
tions and  that  malevolent  subtlety,"  says  one  of  his 
greatest  admirers,  "  from  which  the  honestest  men  of 
liis  profession  are  not  free."     Jests  and  sarcasms  had 
i     fallen  from  his  pen  in  his  discussion  with  Tyndale,  as 
in  his  controversy  with  Luther.     Shortly  after  Tewkes- 
I     bui-y's    affair,    (in    June,    1529,)   there    appeared   "A 
i     Dialogue  of   Sir  Thomas   More,  Knt.,  touching  the 
pestilent  Sect  of  Luther  and  Tyndale,  by  the  one  begim 
in  Saxony,  and  by  the  other  laboured  to  be  brought 
into  England." 

Tyndale  soon  became  informed  of  More's  publication, 
and  a  remarkable  combat  ensued  between  these  two 
representatives  of  the  two  doctrines  that  were  destined 
to  divide  Christendom — Tyndale  the  champion  of  Scrip- 
ture, and  More  the  champion  of  the  church.  More 
having  called  his  book  a  diahtjite,  Tyndale  adopted 
this  form  in  his  reply;  and  the  two  combatants  valiant- 
ly crossed  their  swords,  though  wide  seas  lay  between 
them.  This  theological  duel  is  not  without  importance 
in  the  history  of  the  Eeforniation.  The  struggles  of 
diplomacy,  of  sacerdotalism,  and  of  royalty,  were  not 
enough;  tliere  must  be  struggles  of  doctrine.  Eome 
had  set  the  hierarchy  above  the  faith;  the  Eefor- 
mation  was  to  restore  faith  to  its  place  above  the 
hierarchy. 

More. — Christ  said  not,  the  Holy  Ghost  shall  ivrite, 
but  shall  teach.  Whatsoever  the  church  says,  it  is  the 
Word  of  God,  though  it  be  not  in  Scripture. 

Tyndale. — What !  Christ  and  tlie  apostles  not  spoken 
oi  Scriptures?  .  .  .  T/«?se  ore  imVtoi,  says  St,  John, 
that  ye  believe.,  and  thrmiyh  belief  have  life,  (1  John  ii.  1; 
Eom.  XV.  4  ;  Matthew  xxii.  29.) 

More. — The  apostles  have  taught  by  mouth  many 
things  they  did  not  ivrite,  because  they  should  not 
come  into  the  hands  of  the  heathen  for  mocking. 

Tyndale. — I  pray  you,  what  thing  more  to  be  mocked 
by  the  heathen  could  they  teach  than  the  resurrection ; 
and  that  Christ  was  God  and  man,  and  died  between 
two  thieves'?  And  yet  all  these  things  the  apostles 
wrote.  And  again,  purgatory,  penance,  and  satisfaction 
for  sin,  and  praying  to  saints,  arc  marvellous  agreeable 
unto  the  superstition  of  the  heathen  people,  so  that 
they  need  not  to  abstain  from  writing  of  them  for  fear 
lest  the  heathen  should  have  mocked  them. 


More. — We  must  not  examine  the  teaching  of  the 
church  by  Scripture,  but  understand  Scripture  by 
means  of  what  the  church  says. 

Tyndale. — AVhat !  Does  the  air  give  light  to  the  sun, 
or  the  sun  to  the  air  ?  Is  the  church  before  the  Gos- 
pel, or  the  Gospel  before  the  church?  Is  not  the  father 
older  than  the  son?  God  beyat  us  ivith  His  own  will, 
with  the  ivord  of  truth,  says  St.  James,  (i.  18.)  If  he 
who  begetteth  is  before  him  who  is  begotten,  the  Word 
is  before  tlie  church,  or,  to  speak  more  correctly,  before 
the  congrei/atinn. 

More. — Wliy  do  you  say  congregation,  and  not  church  ? 

Tyndale. — IJccause  by  that  word  church,  you  under- 
stand nothing  but  a  multitude  of  shorn  and  oiled,  which 
we  now  call  the  spirituality  or  clergy;  while  the  word 
of  right  is  common  unto  all  the  congregation  of  them 
that  believe  in  Christ. 

More. — The  church  is  the  pope,  and  his  sect  or 
followers. 

Tyndale. — The  pope  teacheth  us  to  trust  in  holy 
works  for  salvation,  as  penance,  saints'  merits,  and 
friars'  coats.  Now,  he  that  hath  no  faith  to  be  saved 
through  Christ,  is  not  of  Christ's  Church. 

More. — The  Eomish  Church,  from  which  "Luther- 
ans came  out,  was  before  them,  and  therefore  is  the 
i-ight  one. 

Tyndale. — In  like  manner  you  may  say,  tlie  church 
of  the  Pharisees,  whence  Christ  and  His  apostles  came 
out,  was  before  them,  and  was  therefore  the  right 
church,  and  consequently  Christ  and  His  disciples  are 
heretics. 

More. — No  :  the  apostles  came  out  from  the  church 
of  the  Pharisees  because  they  found  not  Christ  there  ; 
but  your  priests  in  Germany  and  elsewhere  have  come 
out  of  our  church  because  they  wanted  w^ves. 

Tyndale. — Wrong:  .  .  .  these  priests  were  at 
first  attached  to  what  you  call  heresies,  and  then  they 
took  wives ;  but  yours  were  first  attached  to  the  holy 
doctrine  of  the  pope,  and  then  they  took  harlots. 

More. — Luther's  books  be  open,  if  you  will  not 
believe  us. 

Tyndale. — Nay,  ye  have  shut  them  up,  and  have 
even  burnt  them.     .     .     . 

More. — I  marvel  that  you  deny  purr/atoi-y.  Sir  William, 
except  it  be  a  plain  point  with  you  to  go  straight  to  hell. 

Tyndcde. — I  know  no  other  purging  but  faith  in  the 
cross  of  Christ ;  while  you,  for  a  groat  or  a  sixjience, 
buy  some  secret  pills  [indulgences]  which  you  take  to 
purge  yourselves  of  your  sins. 

More. — Faith,  then,  is  your  purgatory,  you  say; 
there  is  no  need,  therefore,  of  works — a  most  immoral 
doctrine ! 

Tyndale. — It  is  faith  alo7ie  that  saves  us,  but  not  a 
bare  faith.  AVhen  a  horse  beareth  a  saddle  and  a  man 
thereon,  wo  may  well  say  that  the  horse  only  and  alone 
beareth  the  saddle;  but  we  do  not  mean  the  saddle 
empty,  and  no  man  thereon. 

In  this  manner  did  the  catholic  and  the  evangelical 
carry  on  tlie  discussion.  According  to  Tyndale,  what 
constitutes  the  true  Church  is  the  work  of  the  Holy 
Ghost  within ;  according  to  More,  the  constitution  of 
the  papacy  without.  The  spiritual  character  of  the 
Gospel  is  thus  put  in  opposition  to  the  formalist  char- 
acter of  the  Roman  Church.    The  Eeforniation  restored 


TYNDALE'S  DANGER  AND  SHIPWRECK. 


697 


to  our  belief  the  solid  foundation  of  the  AVord  of  God; 
for  the  sand  it  substituted  the  roek.  In  the  discussion 
to  -wliieh  we  have  just  been  listening,  the  advantage 
remained  not  with  the  catholic.  Erasmus,  a  friend  of 
Morc's,  embarrassed  by  the  course  the  latter  was 
taking,  wrote  to  Tonstall :  "  I  cannot  heartily  con- 
gratulate More." 

Henry  interrupted  the  celebrated  knight  in  these 
contests,  to  send  him  to  Canibray,  where  a  peace  was 
negotiating  between  France  and  the  empire.  Wolscy 
would  have  been  pleased  to  go  himself ;  but  his  enemies 
suggested  to  the  king,  "  that  it  was  only  that  he  might 
not  expedite  the  matter  of  the  divorce."  Henry,  there- 
fore, despatched  More,  Knight,  and  Tonstall ;  but 
"Wolscy  had  created  so  many  delays  that  he  did  not 
arrive  until  after  the  conclusion  of  the  Ladies'  Pence, 
(A\igust,  1529.)  The  king's  vexation  was  extreme. 
Du  Bellay  had  in  vain  helped  him  to  spend  a  ijood 
preparatori/  Jii/i/  to  make  him  sicallow  the  dose.  Heuiy 
was  angiy  with  Wolscy,  Wolsey  threw  the  blame  on 
the  ambassador,  and  the  ambassador  defended  himself, 
be  tells  us,  "with  tooth  and  nail." 

By  way  of  compensation,  the  English  envoys  con- 
cluded with  the  emperor  a  treaty  prohibiting  on  both 
sides  the  printing  and  sale  of  "  any  Lutheran  books." 
Some  of  them  could  have  wished  for  a  good  persecution, 
for  a  few  burning  piles,  it  may  be.  A  singular  oppor- 
tunity occurred.  In  the  spring  of  1529,  Tyudale  and 
FiTth  had  left  Marburg  for  Antwerp,  and  were  thus 
in  the  vicinity  of  the  English  envoys.  "What  AYest  had 
been  unable  to  effect,  it  was  thought  the  two  most 
intelligent  men  in  Britain  could  not  fail  to  accomplish. 
"  Tyndalo  must  be  captured,"  said  More  and  Tonstall. 
"You  do  not  know  what  sort  of  a  countiy  you  are  in," 
replied  Hackett.  "  Will  you  believe  that,  on  the  7th 
of  April,  Harmau  arrested  me  at  Antwerp  for  damages, 
caused  by  his  imprisonment  ?  If  you  can  lay  anything 
to  my  charge  as  a  private  individual,  I  said  to  the 
otTicer,  I  am  ready  to  answer  for  myself ;  but  if  you 
arrest  me  as  ambassador,  I  know  no  judge  but  the 
emperor.  Upon  which  the  procurator  had  the  audacity 
to  reply,  that  I  was  arrested  as  ambassador;  and  the 
lords  of  Antwerp  only  set  me  at  liberty  on  condition 
that  I  should  appear  again  at  the  first  summons.  These 
merchants  are  so  proud  of  their  franchises,  that  they 
woidd  resist  even  Charles  himself."  This  anecdote  was 
not  at  all  calculated  to  encourage  More  ;  and  not  caring 
about  a  pursuit  which  promised  to  be  of  little  use,  he 
returned  to  England.  But  the  Bishop  of  Loudon,  who 
was  left  behind,  persisted  in  the  project,  and  repaired 
to  Antwerp  to  put  it  in  execution. 

Tyndale  was  at  that  time  greatly  embarrassed ; 
considerable  debts,  incurred  with  liis  printers,  com- 
pelled him  to  suspend  his  labours.  Nor  was  this  all : 
the  prelate  who  had  spurned  him  so  harshly  in  Loudon, 
had  just  anived  in  the  very  city  where  he  lay  con- 
cealed. .  .  .  What  would  become  of  him?  .  . 
A  merchant,  named  Augustin  Paekington,  a  clever 
man,  but  somewhat  inclined  to  dissimulation,  happening 
to  be  at  Antwerp  on  business,  hastened  to  pay  his 
respects  to  the  bishop.  The  latter  observed,  in  the 
course  of  conversation :  "  I  should  like  to  get  hold  of 
the  books  with  which  England  is  poisoned." — "  I  can 
perhaps  serve  yoii  in  that  matter,"  replied  the  mer- 


chant. "I  know  the  Flemings  who  have  bought 
Tyndale's  books;  so  that  if  your  lordship  will  be 
pleased  to  pay  for  them,  I  will  nu\kc  you  sure  of  them  [ 
all."  "Oh,  oh!"  thought  the  bishop,  "now,  as  the  \ 
proverb  says,  I  shall  have  GJod  by  the  toe.  Gentle 
Master  Paekington,"  he  added  in  a  flattering  tone,  "I 
will  pay  for  them  whatsoever  they  cost  you.  I  intend 
to  burn  them  at  St.  Paul's  cross."  The  bishop,  having 
his  hand  already  on  Tyndale's  Testaments,  fancied 
himself  on  the  point  of  seizing  Tyndale  himself. 

Paekington,  being  one  of  those  men  who  love  to 
conciliate  all  parties,  ran  off  to  Tyndale,  with  whom 
he  was  intimate,  and  said:  "William,  I  know  you  are 
a  poor  man,  and  have  a  heap  of  New  Testaments  and 
books  by  you,  for  which  you  have  beggared  yourself; 
and  I  have  now  foimd  a  merchant  who  will  buy  them 
all,  and  with  ready  money  too."  "  Who  is  the  mer- 
chant?" said  Tyndale. — "The  Bishop  of  London." 
'•Tonstall?  .  .  .  If  he  buys  my  books,  it  can  only 
be  to  burn  them." — "No  doubt,"  answered  Paekington; 
"  but  what  will  he  gain  by  it?  The  whole  world  will 
cry  out  against  the  priest  who  burns  God's  AVord,  and 
the  eyes  of  many  will  be  opened.  Come,  make  up  your 
mind,  AYilliam ;  the  bishop  shall  have  the  books,  you 
the  money,  and  I  the  thanks."  ,  .  .  Tyndale  re- 
sisted the  proposal ;  Paekington  became  more  pressing. 
"The  question  comes  to  this,"  he  said;  "shall  the 
bishop  pay  for  the  books,  or  shall  he  not?  for,  make 
up  your  mind,  .  .  .  he  will  have  them." — "Icon- 
sent,"  said  the  reformer  at  last;  "I  shall  jjay  my  debts, 
and  bring  out  a  new  and  more  correct  edition  of  the 
Testament."     The  bargain  was  made. 

Ere  long  the  danger  thickened  around  Tyndale. 
Placards,  posted  at  Antwerp  and  throughout  the  pro- 
vince, announced  that  the  emperor,  in  conformity  with 
the  treaty  of  Cambray,  was  about  to  proceed  against 
the  reformers  and  their  writings.  Not  an  officer  of 
justice  appeared  in  the  street  but  Tyndale's  friends 
trembled  for  his  liberty.  Under  such  circumstances, 
how  could  he  print  his  translation  of  Genesis  and 
Deuteronomy  ?  He  made  up  his  mind  about  the  end 
of  August  to  go  to  Hamburg,  and  took  his  passage  in 
a  vessel  loading  for  that  port.  Embarking  with  his 
books,  his  manuscripts,  and  the  rest  of  his  money,  he 
glided  down  the  Scheldt,  and  soon  found  himself  afloat 
on  the  German  ocean. 

But  one  danger  followed  close  upon  another.  He 
had  scarcely  passed  the  mouth  of  the  Meuse,  when  a 
tempest  burst  upon  him,  and  his  ship,  like  that  of  old 
which  bore  St.  Paul,  was  almost  swallowed  up  by  the 
waves.  "Satan,  envying  the  happy  course  and  success 
of  the  Gospel,"  says  a  chronicler,  "  set  to  his  might 
how  to  hinder  the  blessed  labours  of  this  man."  The 
seamen  toiled,  Tyndale  prayed,  all  hope  was  lost.  The 
reformer  alouc  was  full  of  courage,  not  doubting  that 
God  would  preserve  him  for  the  accomplishment  of 
his  work.  All  the  exertions  of  the  crew  proved  useless; 
the  vessel  was  dashed  on  the  coast,  and  the  passengers 
escaped  with  their  lives.  Tyndale  gazed  with  soitow 
upon  that  ocean  which  had  swallowed  up  his  beloved 
books  and  precious  manuscripts,  and  deprived  him  of 
his  resources.  AVhat  labours,  what  perils !  banishment, 
poverty,  thirst,  insults,  watchings,  persecution,  impri- 
sonment, the  stake!     .     .     .     Like  Paul,  he  was  in 


HISTORY  OF  THE  EEF0R:\IATI0N. 


perils  by  his  o^vn  countrymen,  in  perils  among  strange 
people,  in  perils  in  the  city,  in  perils  in  the  ssa.  Re- 
covering Ills  spirits,  however,  he  went  on  board  another 
ship,  eulered  the  Elbe,  and  at  last  reached  Hamburg. 

Great  joy  ivas  in  store  for  him  in  that  city.  Cover- 
dale,  Fox  informs  us,  was  waiting  there  to  confer  with 
him,  and  to  help  him  in  his  labours.  It  has  been 
supposed  that  Coverdale  went  to  Hamburg  to  invite 
Tyndale,  in  Cromwell's  name,  to  return  to  England ; 
but  it  is  merely  a  conjecture,  and  requires  confirmation. 
As  early  as  1527,  Coverdale  had  made  known  to  Crom- 
well his  desire  to  translate  the  Scriptures.  It  was 
natural  that,  meeting  with  difficulties  in  this  under- 
taking, he  should  desire  to  converse  with  Tyndale. 
The  two  friends  lodged  with  a  pious  woman  named 
Margaret  van  Emmersen,  and  spent  some  time  together 
in  the  autumn  of  1529,  undisturbed  by  the  sweating 
sickness  which  was  making  such  cruel  havoc  all  around 
them.  Coverdale  returned  to  England  shortly  after ; 
the  two  reformers  had,  no  doubt,  discovered  that  it 
was  better  for  each  of  them  to  translate  the  Scriptures 
separately. 

Before  Covcrdale's  return,  Tonstall  had  gone  back 
to  London,  exulting  at  cai-rying  with  him  the  books  he 
had  bought  so  dearly.  But  when  he  reached  the  capital, 
he  thought  he  had  better  defer  the  meditated  auto  da 
fe  until  some  striking  event  should  give  it  increased 
i\nportance.  And,  besides,  just  at  that  moment  very 
different  matters  were  engaging  public  attention  on  the 
banks  of  the  Thames,  and  the  liveliest  emotions  agitated 
every  muid. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

The  Royal  Scsfii.n— Sitting  of  tlae  ISth  June :  the  Queen's  Protest— Sitting 
of  tht  21st  Ji.Lc  — Sunjinons  to  the  King  and  Queen — Catherine's  Speech 
-—hh'i  Retires— imincssion  on  the  Audience— The  King's  Declaration— 
ftxlsty's  Protest— Quarrel  between  the  Bishops— New  Sitting— Appari- 
tion to  Uie  Maid  of  Kent— Wolsey  chafed  by  Henry— The  Earl  of  Wilt- 
si  lie  at  VVolsey's— Private  Uooference  between  Catherine  and  the  two 


Affaias  had  changed  in  England  during  the  absence 
of  Toustall  and  More  ;  and  even  before  their  departure, 
events  of  a  certain  importance  had  occurred.  Henry, 
finding  there  was  nothing  more  to  hope  from  Rome, 
had  turned  to  Wolsey  and  Campeggio.  The  Roman 
nuncio  had  succeeded  in  deceiving  the  king.  "  Cam- 
peggio is  very  different  from  what  he  is  reported,"  said 
Henry  to  his  friends  ;  "  he  is  not  for  the  emperor,  as 
I  was  told ;  I  have  said  somewhat  to  him  which  has 
changed  his  mind."  No  doubt  he  had  made  some 
brilliant  pi'omise. 

Henry,  therefore,  imagining  himself  sure  of  his  two 
legates,  desired  them  to  proceed  with  the  matter  of  the 
divorce  without  delay.  There  was  no  time  to  lose,  for 
the  king  was  informed  that  the  pope  was  on  the  point 
of  recalling  the  commission  given  to  the  two  cardinals ; 
and  as  early  as  the  19  th  of  March,  Salviati,  the  pope's 
uncle  and  secretary  of  state,  wrote  to  Campeggio  about 
it.  Henry's  process  once  in  the  court  of  the  pontifical 
chancery,  it  would  have  been  long  before  it  got  out 


again.  Accordingly,  on  the  31st  of  May,  the  king,  by 
a  warrant  under  the  great  seal,  gave  the  legates  lecu-e 
to  execute  their  commission,  "  without  any  regard  to 
his  own  person,  and  having  the  fear  of  God  only  before 
their  eyes."  The  legates  themselves  had  suggested  this 
formula  to  the  king. 

On  the  same  day  the  commission  was  opened ;  but 
to  begin  the  process  was  not  to  end  it.  Evei-y  letter 
which  the  nuncio  received,  forbade  him  to  do  so  in  the 
most  positive  manner.  "  Advance  slowly,  and  never 
finish,"  were  Clement's  instructions.  The  trial  was  to 
be  a  farce,  played  by  a  pope  and  two  cardinals. 

The  ecclesiastical  court  met  in  the  great  hall  of  the 
Blackfriars,  commonly  called  the  "  parliament  chamber." 
The  two  legates  having  successively  taken  the  commis- 
sion in  their  hands,  devoutly  declared,  that  they  were 
resolved  to  execute  it,  (they  should  have  said,  to  elude 
it,)  made  the  required  oaths,  and  ordered  a  peremptory 
citation  of  the  king  and  queen  to  appear  on  the  18th 
of  June,  at  nine  in  the  morning.  Campeggio  was  eager 
to  proceed  slow/i/;  the  session  was  adjourned  for  three 
weeks.  The  citation  caused  a  great  stir  among  the 
people.  "  What ! "  said  they,  "  a  king  and  a  qnoea 
constrained  to  appear,  in  their  own  realm,  before  their 
own  subjects."  The  papacy  set  an  example  which  was 
to  be  strictly  followed,  in  after-years,  both  in  England 
and  in  France. 

On  the  18th  of  June,  Catherine  appeared  before  the 
commission  in  the  parliament  chamber,  and,  stepping 
forward  with  dignity,  said  with  a  firm  voice  :  "  I  pro- 
test against  the  legates  as  incompetent  judges,  and 
appeal  to  the  pope."  This  proceeding  of  the  quecu's, 
her  pride  and  firmness,  troubled  her  enemies,  and  in 
their  vexation  they  grew  exasperated  against  her.  "In- 
stead of  praying  God  to  bring  this  matter  to  a  good 
conclusion,"  they  said,  "  she  endeavours  to  turn  away 
the  people's  affections  from  the  king.  Instead  of  shew- 
ing Henry  the  love  of  a  youtliful  wife,  she  keeps  away 
from  him  night  and  day.  There  is  even  cause  to  fear," 
they  added,  "  that  she  is  in  concert  with  certain  indivi- 
duals who  have  formed  the  horrible  design  of  killing 
the  king  and  the  cardinal."  But  persons  of  generous 
heart,  seeing  only  a  queeu,  a  w&e,  and  a  mother, 
attacked  in  her  dearest  affections,  shewed  themselves 
full  of  sympathy  for  her. 

On  the  21st  of  June,  the  day  to  which  the  court 
adjourned,  the  two  legates  entered  the  parliament  [ 
chamber  with  all  the  pomp  belonging  to  their  station,  \ 
aud  took  their  seats  on  a  raised  platform.  Near  them 
sat  the  bishops  of  Bath  and  Lincoln,  the  Abbot  of 
Westminster,  and  Doctor  Taylor,  master  of  the  Rolls, 
whom  they  had  added  to  their  commission.  Below 
them  were  the  secretaries,  among  whom  the  skilful 
Stephen  Gardiner  held  the  chief  rank.  On  the  right 
hung  a  cloth  of  estate,  where  the  king  sat  surrouniled 
by  his  officers  ;  and  on  the  left,  a  little  lower,  was  the 
queen,  attcuded  by  her  ladies.  The  Ai-chbishop  of 
Canterbury  and  the  bishops  were  seated  between  the 
legates  and  Henry  VIII.,  aud  on  both  sides  of  the 
throne  were  stationed  the  councillors  of  the  king  and 
queen.  The  latter  were,  Fisher,  bishop  of  Rochester, 
Staudlsh  of  St.  Asaph,  West  of  Ely,  and  Dr.  Ridley. 
The  people,  when  they  saw  this  procession  defile  before 
them,  were  far  from  being  dazzled  by  the  pomp.    "Less 


THE  QUEEN'S  APPEAL  TO  THE  KING. 


GOO 


sliow   and    more   virtue,"   they   said,    "  would   better 
bceome  such  judges." 

The   ponlilleal   commissiou   having   been    read,   the 
legates  deelared  that  they  would  judge  without  fear  or 
favour,   and   would   admit  of   neither   recusation    nor 
appeal.      Tlien    the   usher   cried :    "  Henry,   king   of 
1     England,  come  into   court."     The   king,  cited   in   his 
1     own  capital  to  accept  as  judges  two  priests,  his  subjects, 
[     repressed  the  throbbing  of  his  jirond  heart,  and  replied, 
in  the  hope  that  tliis  strange  trial  would  have  a  favour- 
able   issue :    "  Here    I    am."      The    usher   continued : 
j     "  Catherine,  queen  of  England,  come  into  court."    The 
queen  handed  the  cardinals  a  paper,  in  which  she  pro- 
tested against  the  legality  of  the  court,  as  the  judges 
were  the  subjects  of  her  opponent,  and   appealed   to 
Rome.     The  cardinals  declared  they  could  not  admit 
this  paper,  and  consequently  Catherine  was  again  called 
into  court.    At  this  second  summons  she  rose,  devoutly 
[     crossed  herself,  made  the  circuit  of  the  court  to  where 
,     the  king  sat,  bending  with  dignity  as  she   passed  in 
front  of  the  legates,  and  fell  on  her  knees  before  her 
I     husband.      Every   eye   was   turned  upon  her.     Then, 
\     sjieaking  in  English,  but  with  a  Spanish  accent,  which, 
by  recalling  the  distatice  she  was  from  her  native  home, 
jiloaded  eloquently  for  her,  Catherine  said  with  tears 
in  her  eyes,  aud  in  a  tone  at  ouce  dignified  and  im- 
passioned : 

"Sir, — I  beseech  you,  for  all  tlie  love  that  hath  been 

between  us,  and  for  the  love  of  God,  let  me  have  justice 

and  right;    take  some  pity  on  mo,  for  I  am  a   poor 

j     woman,  and  a  stranger,  born  out  of  yoiu"  dominions. 

1     I  have  here  r.o  assured  friend,  much  less  impartial  couu- 

;     sel,  aud  I  flee  to  you  as  to  the  head  of  justice  within 

j     this  i-ealm.    Alas !  Sir,  wherein  have  I  offended  you,  or 

j     what  occasion  given  you  of  displeasure,  that  you  should 

I     wish  to  put  me  from  you?     I  take  God  and  all  tlie 

world   to  witness,   that  I  have  been   to  you   a  true, 

hiunlde,  and  obedient  wife,  ever  conformaljle  to  your 

will  aud  pleasure.     Never  have  I  said  or  done  aught 

contrary  thereto,  being  always  well  pleased  and  content 

with  all  things  wherein  you  had  delight ;  neither  did  I 

ever  grudge  in  word  or  countenance,  or  shew  a  visage  or 

spark  of  discontent.     I  loved  all  lliose  whom  you  loved, 

only  for  your  sake.     This  twenty  years  I  have  beeu 

j-our  true  wife,  and  by  me  ye  have  had  divers  children, 

although  it  hath  pleased  God  to  call  them  out  of  this 

j     world,  which  yet  hath  been  no  default  in  me." 

The  judges,  and  even  the  most  servile  of  the  courtiers, 
were    touched    when    they   heard    these    simple    and 
clo(iueDt  words,  and  the  queen's  soitow  moved  them 
almost  to  tears.     Catherine  continued ; 
I  "  Sir, — AVhen  ye  married  me   at  the  first,  I   take 

I  God  to  be  my  judge  I  was  a  true  maid;  and 
whether  it  be  true  or  not,  I  put  it  to  your  conscience. 
I  ....  If  there  be  any  just  cause  that  ye  can 
allege  against  me,  I  am  couteutcd  to  depart  from  your 
kingdom,  albeit  to  my  great  shame  and  dishonour;  and 
if  there  be  none,  then  let  me  remain  in  my  former 
estate  until  death.  Who  united  us  1  The  king,  your 
fatiier,  who  was  called  the  second  Solomon ;  and  my 
father,  Ferdinand,  who  was  esteemed  one  of  the  wisest 
])rinces  that,  for  many  years  before,  had  reigned  iu 
Spaiu.  It  is  not,  therefore,  to  be  doubted  that  the 
nuirriage  between  you  and  me  is  good  and  lawful. 


AVho  arc  my  judges?  Is  not  one  the  man  that  has  put 
sorrow  between  you  aud  me?  ...  a  judge  whom 
I  refuse  aud  abhor! — Wiio  are  the  councillors  assigned 
me?  Are  they  not  ofhccrs  of  the  crown,  who  have 
made  oath  to  you  in  your  own  council  ?  .  .  .  Sir, 
I  conjure  you  not  to  call  me  before  a  court  .so  formed. 
Yet,  if  you  refuse  mc  this  favour  .  .  .  your  will 
be  done.     .     ,  I  shall  be  silent,  I  sh.all  repress  the 

emotions  of  )ny  soul,  and  remit  my  just  cause  to  the 
hands  of  God." 

Thus  spoke  Catherine  through  her  tears;  humbly 
bending,  she  seemed  to  embrace  Henry's  knees.  She 
rose  aud  made  a  low  obeisance  to  the  king.  It  was 
expected  that  she  would  return  to  her  seat ;  but  leaning 
on  the  arm  of  Griffiths,  her  receiver-general,  she  moved 
towards  the  door.  The  king,  observing  this,  ordered 
her  to  be  recalled;  and  the  usher,  following  her,  thrice 
cried  aloud :  "  Catherine,  queen  of  England,  come 
into  court."  "  Madam,"  said  Griinihs,  "  you  are  called 
back." — "  I  hear  it  well  enough,"  replied  the  queen ; 
"  but  go  you  on,  for  this  is  no  court  wherein  I  can 
have  justice:  let  us  proceed."  Catlierlue  returned  to 
the  palace,  and  never  again  appeared  before  the  court 
either  by  proxy  or  in  person. 

She  had  gained  her  cause  iu  the  minds  of  many. 
The  dignity  of  her  pei'sou,  the  quaint  simplicity  of  her 
speech,  the  propriety  with  which,  relying  upon  her 
innocence,  she  had  spoken  of  the  most  delicate  subjects, 
aud  the  tears  which  betrayed  her  emotioa,  had  created 
a  deep  impression.  But  "  the  sting  in  her  speech,"  as 
an  historian  says,  was  her  appeal  to  the  king's  con- 
science, and  to  the  judgment  of  Almighty  God,  on  the 
capital  point  in  the  cause.  "  How  could  a  person  so 
modest,  so  sober  in  her  language,"  said  many,  "  dare 
utter  such  a  falsehood?  Besides,  the  king  did  not 
contradict  her." 

Henry  was  greatly  embarrassed  :  Catherine's  words 
had  moved  liim.  Catherine's  defence,  one  of  the  most 
touchiug  in  history,  had  gained  over  the  accuser  him- 
self. He  therefore  felt  constrained  to  render  this 
testimony  to  the  accused :  "  Since  the  queen  has  with- 
drawn, I  will,  in  her  absence,  declare  to  you  all  present, 
that  she  has  been  to  me  as  true  aud  obedient  a  wife  as  ' 
I  could  desii-e.  She  has  all  the  virtues  and  good 
qualities  that  belong  to  a  woman.  She  is  as  noble  in 
character  as  in  birth." 

ButWolsey  w;is  the  most  embarrassed  of  all.  "When 
the  queen  had  said,  without  naming  him,  that  one  of 
her  judges  was  the  cause  of  all  her  misfortunes,  looks 
of  indignation  were  turned  upon  him.  He  was  un- 
willing to  remain  uuder  the  weight  of  this  accusation. 
As  soon  as  the  Hng  had  finished  speaking,  he  said  : 
'•  Sir,  I  humbly  beg  your  majesty  to  declare  before  this 
audience  whether  I  was  the  first  or  chief  mover  in  this 
business."  AVolsey  had  formerly  boasted  to  Du  Bellay, 
"  that  the  first  project  of  the  divorce  was  set  on  foot 
by  himself,  to  create  a  perpetual  separation  between 
the  houses  of  Euglaud  and  Spain;"  but  now  it  suited 
him  to  affirm  the  contrary.  The  king,  who  needed  his 
services,  took  care  not  to  contradict  him.  "My  lord  ' 
cardinal,"  he  said,  "  I  can  well  excuse  you  herein,  j 
Marry,  so  far  from  being  a  mover,  ye  have  been  rather 
against  me  in  attempting  thereof.  It  was  the  Bishop 
of  Tarbes,  the  French  ambassador,  who  begot  the  first 


700 


HISTORY  OP  THE  REFORMATION. 


scruples  in  my  conscience  by  his  doubts  on  the  legiti- 
macy of  the  Princess  Mary."  This  was  not  correct. 
The  Bisliop  of  Tarbes  was  not  in  England  before  the 
year  1527,  and  we  have  proofs  that  ihc  king  was 
meditating  a  divorce  in  152G.  "  From  that  hour,"  he 
continued,  "I  was  much  troubled,  and  thought  myself 
in  danger  of  God's  heavy  displeasure,  who,  wishing  to 
punisli  my  incestuous  marriage,  had  taken  away  all  the 
sons  my  wife  had  borne  me.  I  laid  my  grief  before 
you,  my  lord  of  Lincoln,  then  being  my  ghostly  father; 
and  by  your  advice  I  asked  counsel  of  the  rest  of  the 
bishops,  and  you  all  informed  me,  under  your  seals, 
tliat  you  shared  in  my  scruples." — "That  is  the  truth," 
said  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury.  "  No,  Sir,  not  so, 
imder  correction,"  quoth  the  Bishop  of  Kochester,  "you 
have  not  my  hand  and  seal." — "No!"  exclaimed  the 
king,  shewing  him  a  paper  which  ho  held  in  his  hand ; 
"is  not  this  your  hand  and  seal?" — "No,  forsooth,"  lie 
answered.  Henry's  surprise  increased,  and  turning 
with  a  frown  to  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  he  asked 
him  :  "What  say  you  to  that '? " — "  Sir,  it  is  his  hand 
and  seal,"  replied  Warham.  "  It  is  not,"  rejoined 
Rochester:  "I  told  you  I  would  never  consent  to  any 
such  act." — "  You  say  the  truth,"  responded  the  arch- 
bishop; "  but  you  were  fully  resolved  at  the  last  that  I 
should  subscribe  your  name  and  put  your  seal." — "All 
which  is  untrue,"  added  Rochester,  in  a  passion.  The 
bisliop  was  not  very  respectful  to  his  primate.  "Well, 
well,"  said  the  king,  wishing  to  end  the  dispute,  "  we 
will  not  stand  in  argument  with  you;  for  you  are  but 
one  man."  The  court  adjourned.  The  day  had  been 
better  for  Catherine  than  for  the  prelates. 

In  proportion  as  the  first  sitting  had  been  pathetic, 
so  the  discussions  in  the  second  between  the  lawyers 
and  bishops  were  calculated  to  revolt  a  delicate  mind. 
Tlie  advocates  of  the  two  parties  vigorously  debated 
pro  and  con  respecting  the  consummation  of  Arthur's 
marriage  with  Catherine.  "It  is  a  very  difTicult 
question,"  said  one  of  the  council ;  "  none  can  know 
the  truth." — "But  I  know  it,"  replied  the  Bishop  of 
Rochester.  "What  do  you  moaa.'"  asked  Wolsey. — 
"My  lord,"  he  answered,  "  He  was  the  very  Truth  who 
said :  What  God  hath  joined  together,  let  not  man  put 
asunder:  that  is  enough  for  me." — "  So  everybody 
thinks,"  rejoined  Wolsey;  "but  whether  it  was  God 
who  united  Henry  of  England  and  Catherine  of  Arragon, 
hoc  restat  probandtim,  that  remains  to  be  proved.  The 
king's  council  decides  that  the  marriage  is  unlawful, 
and  consequently  it  was  not  God  tcho  joined  them  to- 
gether." The  two  bishops  then  exchanged  a  few  words 
less  edifying  than  those  of  the  preceding  day.  Several 
of  the  hearers  expressed  a  sentiment  of  disgust.  "It 
is  a  disgrace  to  the  court,"  said  Dr.  Ridley  with  no 
little  indignation,  "  that  you  dare  discuss  questions 
which  fill  every  right-minded  man  with  horror."  This 
sharp  reprimand  put  an  end  to  the  debate. 

The  agitations  of  the  court  spread  to  the  convents ; 
priests,  monks,  and  nims,  were  everywhere  in  commo- 
tion. It  was  not  long  before  astonishing  revelations 
began  to  circulate  through  the  cloisters.  There  was 
no  talk  then  of  an  old  portrait  of  the  Virgin  that 
winked  its  eyes ;  but  other  miracles  were  invented. 
"  An  angel,"  it  was  rumoured,  "  has  appeared  to  Eliza- 
beth Barton,  the  maid  of  Kent,  as  he  did  formerly  to 


Adam,  to  the  patriarchs,  and  to  Jesus  Christ."  At  the 
epochs  of  the  creation  and  of  the  redemption,  and  in 
the  times  which  lead  from  one  to  tlie  other,  miracles 
are  natural ;  God  then  appeared,  and  His  coming  with- 
out any  signs  of  power,  would  be  as  surprising  as  the 
rising  of  the  sun  unattended  by  its  rays  of  light.  But 
the  llomish  Church  does  not  stop  there ;  it  claims  in 
every  age,  for  its  saints,  the  privilege  of  miraculous 
powers  ;  and  the  miracles  are  multiplied  in  proportion 
to  the  ignorance  of  the  people.  And  accordingly  the 
angel  said  to  the  epileptic  maid  of  Kent :  "  Go  to  the 
unfaithful  king  of  England,  and  tell  him  there  are  three 
things  he  desires,  which  I  forbid  now  and  for  ever'. 
The  first  is  the  power  of  the  pope  ;  the  second,  the  new 
doctrine ;  the  third,  Anne  Boleyn.  If  he  takes  her  for 
his  wife,  God  will  visit  him."  The  vision-seeing  maid 
delivered  the  message  to  the  king,  whom  nothing  could 
now  stop. 

On  the  contrary,  he  began  to  find  out  that  Wolsey 
proceeded  too  slowly,  and  the  idea  sometimes  crossed 
his  mind  that  he  was  betrayed  by  this  minister.  One 
fine  summer's  morning,  Henry,  as  soon  as  he  rose, 
summoned  the  cardinal  to  him  at  Bridewell.  Wolsey 
hastened  thither,  and  remained  closeted  with  the  king 
from  eleven  till  twelve.  The  latter  gave  way  to  all 
the  fury  of  his  passion  and  the  violence  of  his  despot- 
ism. "  Wc  must  finish  this  matter  promptly,"  he  said ; 
"  we  must  positively."  Wolsey  retired  very  uneasy, 
and  returned  by  the  Thames  to  Westminster.  The  sun 
darted  his  bright  rays  on  the  water.  The  Bishop  of 
Carlisle,  who  sat  by  the  cardinal's  side,  remarked,  as 
he  wiped  liis  forehead :  "  A  very  warm  day,  my  lord." 
— "Yes,"  replied  the  unhappy  Wolsey;  "if  you  had 
been  chafed  for  an  hour  as  I  have  been,  you  would  say 
it  was  a  hot  day."  Wlien  ho  reached  his  palace,  the 
cardinal  lay  down  on  his  bed  to  seek  repose ;  he  was 
not  quiet  long. 

Catherine  had  grown  in  Henry's  eyes,  as  well  as  in 
those  of  the  nation.  The  king  shrank  from  a  judgment; 
he  even  began  to  doubt  of  his  success.  He  wished  that 
the  queen  would  consent  to  a  separation.  This  idea 
occurred  to  his  mind  after  Wolsey's  departure  ;  and  the 
cardinal  had  hardly  closed  his  eyes  before  the  Earl  of 


Wiltshire  (Anne  Boleyn's  father)  was  announced  to 
him  with  a  message  from  the  king.  "  It  is  his  majesty's 
pleasure,"  said  Wiltshire,  "that  you  represent  to  the 
queen  the  shame  that  will  accrue  to  her  from  a  judicial 
condemnation,  and  persuade  her  to  confide  in  liis  wis- 
dom." AYolsey,  commissioned  to  execute  a  task  he 
knew  to  be  impossible,  exclaimed :  "  Why  do  you  put 
such  fancies  in  the  king's  head?"  and  then  he  spoke  so 
reproachfully  that  Wiltshire,  with  tears  in  his  eyes, 
fell  on  his  knees  beside  the  cardinal's  bed.  Boleyn, 
desirous  of  seeing  his  daughter  queen  of  Englaud, 
feared,  perhaps,  that  he  had  taken  a  wrojig  course.  "It 
is  ivell,"  said  the  cardinal,  recollecting  that  the  message 
came  from  Henry  VIII. ;  "  I  am  ready  to  do  every- 
thing to  please  his  majesty."  He  rose,  went  to  Bath 
Place  to  fetch  Campcggio,  and  together  they  waited 
on  the  queen. 

The  two  legates  found  Catherine  quietly  at  work 
with  her  maids  of  honour.  Wolsey  addressed  the 
queen  in  Latin:  "Nay,  my  lord,"  she  said,  "speak  to 
me  in  English ;  I  wish  all  the  woi'ld  could  hear  you." 


THE  LEGATES  VISIT  THE  QUEEN. 


— "  We  desire,  madam,  to  coraraunicato  to  you  alone 
our  counsel  and  opinion." — "My  lord,"  said  the  queen, 
"you  are  come  to  speak  of  things  beyond  my  capacity;" 
and  then,  with  noble  simplicity,  shewing  a  skein  of  red 
silk  hanging  about  her  neck,  she  continued :  "  Those 
arc  my  occupations,  and  all  that  I  am  capable  of.  I 
am  a  poor  woman,  without  friends  in  this  foreign 
country,  and  lacking  wit  to  answer  persons  of  wisdom 
as  ye  be ;  and  yet,  my  lords,  to  please  you,  let  us  go 
to  my  withdrawing  room." 

At  these  words  the  queen  rose,  and  Wolsey  gave  her 
his  baud.  Catherine  earnestly  maintained  her  rights 
as  a  woman  and  a  queen.  "  We  who  were  in  the  outer 
chamber,"  says  Cavendish,  "from  time  to  time  could 
hear  the  queen  speaking  very  loud,  but  could  not  mi- 
derstand  what  she  said."  Catherine,  instead  of  justi- 
fying herself,  boldly  accused  her  judge.  "  I  know.  Sir 
Cardinal,"  she  said  with  noble  candour;  "I  know  who 
has  given  the  king  the  advice  ho  is  following :  it  is  you. 
I  have  not  ministered  to  your  pride — I  have  blamed 
your  conduct — I  have  complained  of  your  tyranny,  and 
my  nephew  the  emperor  has  not  made  you  pope.  .  . 
Ileucc  all  my  misfortunes.  To  revenge  yom-self  you 
have  kindled  a  war  in  Europe,  and  have  stirred  up 
ag:iinst  me  this  most  wicked  matter.  God  will  be  my 
judge,  .  .  .  and  yours!"  Wolsey  would  have 
replied,  but  Catherine  haughtily  refused  to  hear  him ; 
and  while  treating  Campeggio  with  great  civility,  de- 
clared that  she  would  not  acknowledge  cither  of  them 
as  her  judge.  The  cardinals  withdrew,  Wolsey  fall  of 
vexation,  and  Campeggio  beaming  with  joy,  for  the 
business  was  getting  more  complicated.  Every  hope 
of  accommodation  was  lost:  nothing  remaiaed  now 
but  to  proceed  judicially. 


CHArTER  IX. 

The  Tmt  Easuraed— Catherine  Summoned— Twelve  Articles— Tlie  TVit- 
uesses*  Evidence— Arthur  and  Catherine  really  Married— Campeggio 
opposes  the  Argument  of  Divine  Right — Other  Arguments— The  Le- 
gates required  to  Deliver  Judgment — Their  Tergiversations — Change  in 
Men's  Minds— Final  Session— General  Expectation— Adjournment  dur- 
ing Har\-est— Campeggio  Excuses  this  Impertinence— Tlie  King's  Indig- 
nation—Suffolk's Violence— Wolsey's  Replj-— He  is  Ruined— General 
Accusations -The  Cardinal  turns  to  an  Episcopal  Life. 

The  trial  was  resumed.  The  Bishop  of  Bath  and  Wells 
waited  upon  the  queen  at  Greenwich,  and  peremptorily 
summoned  her  to  appear  in  the  parliament-chamber. 
On  the  day  appointed  Catherine  limited  herself  to 
sending  an  appeal  to  the  pope.  She  was  declared  con- 
tumacious, and  the  legates  proceeded  with  the  cause. 

Twelve  articles  were  prepared,  which  were  to  serve 
for  the  examination  of  the  witnesses,  and  the  summary 
of  which  was,  that  the  marriage  of  Henry  with  Cathe- 
rine, being  forbidden  both  by  the  law  of  God  and  of 
the  church,  was  null  and  void. 

The  hearing  of  the  witnesses  began  ;  and  Dr.  Taylor, 
archdeacon  of  Buckingham,  conducted  the  examination. 
Tiieir  evidence,  which  would  now  be  taken  only  with 
closed  doors,  may  be  found  in  Lord  Herbert,  of  Cher- 


bury's  History  of  Henry  "VIII.  The  Duke  of  Norfolk, 
high-treasurer  of  England,  the  Duke  of  Suffolk,  Maurice 
St.  John,  gentleman  carver  to  Prince  Arthur,  the  Vis- 
count Fitzwalter  and  Anthony  Willoughby,  his  cup- 
bearers, testify  to  their  being  |)resent  on  the  morrow 
of  the  wedding  at  the  breakfast  of  the  prince,  then  in 
sound  health,  and  reported  the  conversation  that  took 
place.  The  old  Duchess  of  Norfolk,  the  Earl  of 
Shrewsbury,  and  the  Marquis  of  Dorset,  confirmed 
these  declarations,  which  proved  that  Arthur  and 
Catherine  were  really  married.  It  was  also  called  to 
mind  that,  at  the  time  of  Arthur's  death,  Henry  was 
not  permitted  to  take  the  title  of  Prince  of  Wales, 
because  Catherine  hoped  to  give  an  heir  to  the  crown 
of  England. 

"  If  Arthur  and  Catherine  were  really  married,"  said 
the  king's  councillors  after  these  extraordinary  deposi- 
tions,   "  the   marriage   of   this   princess  with    Henry, 
Arthur's  brother,  was  forbidden  by  the  Divine  law,  by 
a;i  express  command  of  God,  contained  in  Leviticus, 
and  no  dispensation  could  permit  what  God  had  for- 
bidden."    Campeggio  would  never  concede  this  argu-     } 
ment,  which  limited  the  right  of  the  popes ;    it  was 
necessai'y,  therefore,  to  abandon  the  Divine  riijht,  (which     ', 
was  in  reality  to  lose  the  cause,)  and  to  seek  in  the  bull 
of  Julius  II.,  and  in  his  famous  brief,  for  flaws  that     , 
would  invalidate  them  both;  and  this  the  king's  council 
did,  although  they  did  not  conceal  the  weakness  of 
their  position.     "  The  motive  alleged  in  the  disponsa-     i 
tion,"   they  said,   "is    the   necessity  of   preserving   a 
cordial   relation  between   Spain   and   England ;    now,     I 
there   was   nothing   that    tlireatened    their   harmony. 
Moreover,  it  is  said  in  this  document  that   the  pope 
grants  it  at  the  prayer  of  Homy,  prince  of  Wales. 
Now,  as  this  prince  was  only  thirteen  years  old,  he  was 
not  of  age  to  make  such  a  request.     As  for  the  brief,     j 
it  is  found  neither  in  England  nor  in  Rome ;  we  can-     j 
not,  therefore,  admit  its  authenticity."      It  was  not 
dilTicult  for   Catherine's  friends   to    invalidate    these 
objections.     "  Besides,"  they  added,  "  a  union  that  has 
lasted  twenty  years  suflTiciently  establishes  its  own  law-     ' 
fulness.      And  will  you   declare   the  Princess  Mary     i 
illegitimate,  to  the  great,  injury  of  this  realm?"  ', 

The  king's  advocates  then  changed  their  course.  <, 
Was  not  the  Roman  legate  provided  with  a  decretal 
pronouncing  the  divorce,  in  case  it  should  be  proved 
that  Arthur's  marriage  had  been  really  consummated? 
Now,  this  fact  had  been  proved  by  the  depositions. 
"  Tills  is  the  moment  for  delivering  judgment,"  said 
Henry  and  his  councillors  to  Campeggio.  "  Publish 
the  pope's  decretal."  But  the  pope  feared  the  sword 
of  Charles  V.,  then  hanging  over  his  head ;  and  accord- 
ingly, whenever  the  king  advanced  one  step,  the  Romish 
prelate  took  several  in  an  opposite  direction.  "  I  will 
deliver  judgment  in  five  days,"  said  he;  and  when  the 
five  days  were  expired,  he  bound  himself  to  deliver  it 
in  six.  "  Restore  peace  to  my  troubled  conscience," 
exclaimed  Henry.  The  legate  replied  in  courtly  phrase; 
he  had  gained  a  few  days'  delay,  and  that  was  all  he 
desired. 

Such  conduct  on  the  part  of  the  Roman  legate  pro- 
duced an  unfavourable  effect  in  England,  and  a  change 
took  place  in  the  public  mind.  The  first  movement 
had  been  for  Catherine;  the  second  was  for  Hemy.     i 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


Clement's  endless  delays  and  Campeggio's  stratagems 
exasperated  the  nation.  The  king's  argument  was 
simple  and  popular :  "  The  pope  cannot  dispense  with 
the  laws  of  God;"  while  the  queen,  by  appealing  to 
the  authority  of  the  Eomau  pontiff,  displeased  both 
high  and  low.  "No  precedent,"  said  the  lawyers,  "can 
justify  the  king's  marriage  with  his  brother's  widow." 

There  were,  however,  some  evangelical  Christians 
who  tliought  Henry  was  "  troubled "  more  by  his 
passions  than  by  his  conscience ;  and  they  asked  how 
it  happened  that  a  prince,  who  represented  himself  to 
be  so  disturbed  by  the  possible  transgression  of  a  law 
of  douljtful  interpretation,  could  desire,  after  twenty 
years,  to  violate  the  indisputable  law  which  forbade 
the  divorce?  .  .  .  On  the  21st  of  July,  the  day 
fixed  ad  concludendum,  the  cause  was  adjourned  until 
the  Friday  following,  and  no  one  doubted  that  the 
matter  would  then  be  terminated. 

All  prepared  for  this  important  day.  The  king 
ordered  tlie  dukes  of  Norfolk  and  Suffolk  to  be  present 
at  the  sitting  of  the  court;  and  being  himself  impatient 
to  hear  the  so  much  coveted  judgment,  he  stole  into  a 
gallery  of  the  parliament-chamber  facing  the  judges. 

The  legates  of  the  holy  see  having  taken  their  seats, 
the  attorney-general  signified  to  them,  "  that  everything 
necessary  for  the  information  of  their  conscience  having 
been  judicially  laid  before  them,  that  day  had  been 
fixed  for  the  conclusion  of  the  trial."  There  was  a 
pause ;  every  one  feeling  the  importance  of  this  judg- 
ment, waited  for  it  with  impatience.  "  Either  the 
papacy  pronounces  my  divorce  from  Catherine,"  the 
king  had  said,  "or  I  shall  divorce  myself  from  the 
papacy."  That  was  the  way  Henry  put  the  question. 
All  eyes,  and  particularly  the  king's,  were  turned  on 
the  judges;  Campeggio  could  not  retreat;  he  must  now 
sny  i/es  or  no.  For  some  time  he  was  silent.  He  knew 
for  certain  that  the  queen's  appeal  had  been  admitted 
by  Clement  VII.,  and  that  the  latter  had  concluded  an 
alliance  witli  the  emperor.  It  was  no  longer  in  his 
power  to  grant  the  king's  request.  Clearly  foreseeing 
that  a  no  would  perhaps  forfeit  the  power  of  Rome  in 
England,  while  a  i/es  might  put  an  end  to  the  plans  of 
religious  emancipation  which  alarmed  him  so  much,  he 
could  not  make  up  his  mind  to  say  either  i/es  or  no. 

At  last  the  nuncio  rose  slowly  from  his  chair,  and 
all  the  as-icmbly  listened  with  emotion  to  the  oracular 
decision  which  for  so  many  years  the  powerful  King 
of  England  had  sought  from  the  Eomau  pontiff.  "  The 
general  vacation  of  the  harvest  and  vintage,"  he  said, 
"being  observed  every  year  by  the  court  of  Rome, 
dating  from  to-morrow,  the  24th  of  July,  the  beginning 
of  the  dog-days,  we  adjourn,  to  some  future  period, 
the  conclusion  of  these  pleadings." 

The  auditors  were  thunderstruck.  "  What !  because 
the  malaiia  renders  the  air  of  Rome  dangerous  at  the 
end  of  July,  and  compels  the  Romans  to  close  their 
courts,  must  a  trial  be  broken  off  on  the  banks  of  the 
Thames,  when  its  conclusion  is  looked  for  so  impa- 
tiently?" The  people  hoped  for  a  judicial  sentence, 
and  they  were  answered  with  a  jest;  it  was  thus  Rome 
made  sport  of  Christendom.  Campeggio,  to  disarm 
Henry's  ivrath,  gave  utterance  to  some  noble  senti- 
ments ;  but  his  whole  line  of  conduct  raises  legitimate 
doubts  as  to  his  sincerity.     "  The  queen,"  he  said, 


"  denies  the  competency  of  the  court ;  I  must  therefore 
make  my  report  to  the  pope,  who  is  the  source  of  life 
and  honour,  and  wait  his  sovereign  orders.  I  have  not 
come  so  far  to  please  any  man,  be  he  king  or  subject. 
I  am  an  old  man,  feeble  and  sickly,  and  fear  none  but 
the  Sui)remo  Judge,  before  whom  I  must  soon  appear. 
I  therefore  adjourn  this  court  until  the  1st  of  October." 

It  was  evident  that  this  adjournment  was  only  a 
formality  intended  to  signify  the  definitive  rejection 
of  Henry's  demand.  The  same  custom  prevails  in  the 
British  legislature. 

The  king,  who  from  his  place  of  concealment  had 
heard  Campeggio's  speech,  could  scarcely  control  his 
indignation.  He  wanted  a  regular  judgment;  he  clung 
to  forms;  he  desired  that  his  cause  should  pass  success- 
fully through  all  the  windings  of  ecclesiastical  pro- 
cedure ;  and  yet  here  it  is  wrecked  upon  the  vacations 
of  the  Romish  court.  Heniy  was  silent,  however, 
either  from  prudence,  or  because  surprise  deprived  him 
of  the  power  of  speech,  and  he  hastily  left  the  gallery. 

Norfolk,  Suffolk,  and  the  other  courtiers,  did  not 
follow  him.  The  king  and  his  ministers,  the  peers  and 
the  people,  and  even  the  clergy,  weve  almost  unanimous, 
and  yet  the  pope  pronounced  his  veto.  He  humbled 
the  Defender  of  the  Faith  to  flatter  the  author  of  the 
sack  of  Rome.  This  was  too  much.  The  impetuous 
Suffolk  started  from  his  seat,  struck  his  hand  violently 
on  the  table  in  front  of  him,  cast  a  threatening  look 
upon  the  judges,  and  exclaimed :  "  By  the  mass  the 
old  saying  is  confirmed  to-day,  that  no  cardinal  has 
ever  brought  good  to  England." — "  Sir,  of  all  men 
in  this  realm,"  replied  Wolsey,  "you  have  the  least 
cause  to  disparage  cardinals,  for  if  J,  poor  cardinal, 
had  not  been,  you  would  not  have  had  a  head  on  your 
shoulders."  It  would  seem  that  Wolsey  pacified  Henry 
at  the  time  of  the  duke's  marriage  with  the  Princess 
Mary.  "I  cannot  pronounce  sentence,"  continued 
Wolsey,  "  without,  knowing  the  good  pleasure  of  his 
holiness.  The  two  dukes  and  the  other  noblemen  left 
the  hall  in  anger,  and  hastened  to  the  palace.  The 
legates,  remaining  with  their  officers,  looked  at  each 
other  for  a  few  moments.  At  last  Campeggio,  wlio 
alone  had  remained  calm  during  this  scene  of  violence, 
arose,  and  the  audience  dispersed. 

Henry  did  not  allow  himself  to  be  crushed  by  this 
blow.  Rome,  by  her  strange  proceedings,  aroused  in 
him  that  suspicious  and  despotic  spirit  of  which  he 
gave  such  tragic  proofs  in  after-years.  The  papacy 
was  making  sport  of  him.  Clement  and  Wolsey  tossed 
his  divorce  from  one  to  the  other  like  a  ball  which,  now 
at  Rome  and  now  at  London,  seemed  fated  to  remain 
perpetually  in  the  air.  The  king  thouglit  he  had  been 
long  enough  the  plaything  of  his  holiness  and  of  the 
crafty  cardinal;  his  patience  was  exhausted,  and  he 
resolved  to  shew  his  adversaries  that  Henry  VIII.  was 
more  tlian  a  match  for  these  bishops.  We  shall  find 
him  seizing  this  favourable  opportunity,  and  giving  an 
unexpected  solution  to  the  matter. 

Wolsey  sorrowfully  hung  his  head ;  by  taking  part 
with  the  nuncio  and  the  pope,  he  had  signed  the 
warrant  of  his  own  destruction.  So  long  as  Henry 
had  a  single  ray  of  hope,  he  thought  proper  still  to 
dissemble  with  Clement  VII. ;  but  he  might  vent  all 
Lis  anger  on  Wolsey.     From  the  period  of  the  Roman 


WOLSEY  ACCUSED  BY  ALL. 


703 


Vacations,  the  cardinal  was  ruiued  in  liis  master's 
mind.  'NVoIsey's  enemies  seeing  his  favoiu*  decline, 
hastened  to  attack  him.  Suffolk  and  Norfolk  in  [jur- 
ticular,  impatient  to  tret  rid  of  an  insolent  priest  who 
had  so  lonj;-  ehaiVd  tlicir  pride,  told  Henry  tliat  Wolsey 
had  been  conliuuiilly  playing  false;  they  went  over  all 
his  iK'goliations,  month  by  month  and  day  by  day,  and 
drew  the  most  overwhelming  conclusions  from  them. 
Sir  "William  Kingston  and  Lord  Manners  laid  before 
the  king  one  of  the  cardinal's  loiters  which  Sir  Francis 
Bryan  had  obtained  from  the  papal  archives.  In  it  the 
cardinal  desired  Clement  to  spin  out  the  divorce  ques- 
tion, and  linally  to  oppose  it,  seeing  (he  added)  that  if 
Henry  was  separated  from  Catherine,  a  friend  to  the 
reformers  would  become  qneeu  of  England.  This  letter 
clearly  expressed  Wolsey's  inmost  thoughts  :  Rome  at 
any  jirice ;  .  .  .  and  perish  England  and  Henry 
j  rather  tlian  the  popedom !  We  can  imagine  the  king's 
I     anger. 

I  Anne  Boleyn's  friends  were  not  working  alone. 
There  was  not  a  person  at  court  whom  AVolsey's 
haughtiness  and  tyranny  had  not  offended ;  no  one  in 
the  king's  council  in  whom  his  continual  intrigues  had 
not  raised  serious  suspicions.  He  had  (they  said)  be- 
trayed in  France  the  cause  of  England ;  kept  up  in 
lime  of  peace  and  war  secret  intelligence  with  Madam, 
mother  of  Francis  I.;  received  great  presents  from  her; 
oppressed  the  nation,  and  trodden  under  foot  the  laws 
of  the  kingdom.  The  people  called  him  Frenchman  and 
trailof;  and  all  England  seemed  to  vie  in  throwing 
burning  brands  at  the  superb  edifice  which  the  pride 
of  this  prelate  had  so  laboriously  erected. 

AVolsey  was  too  clear-sighted  not  to  discern  the  signs 

j     of  his  approaching  fall.      "  Both  the  rising  and  the 

setting  sun  (for  thus  an  historian  calls  Anne  Boleyu 

and  Catherine  of  Arragon)  frowned  upon  him,"  and  the 

I     sky,  gi'owing  darker  around  him,  gave  token  of  the 

i     storm  that  was  to  overwhelm  him.    If  the  cause  failed, 

I     AV^olsey  incurred   the   vengeance   of    the    king;    if    it 

I     succeeded,  he  would  be  delivered  up  to  the  vengeance 

'     of  the  Boleyns,  without  speaking  of  Catherine's,  the 

emperor's,  and  the  pope's.    Happy  Campcggio!  thought 

the  cardinal,  he  has  nothing  to  fear.    If  Henry's  favour 

is   withdrawn   from   him,   Charles    and  Clement  will 

make  huu  compensation.     But  Wolsey  lost  everything 

when  he  lost  the  king's  good  graces.     Detested  by  his 

fellow-citizens,  despised  and  hated  by  all  Europe,  he 

saw,  to  whatever  side  he  turned,  nothing  but  the  just 

reward  of  his  avarice  and  falseness.      He  strove  in 

vain,  as  on  other  occasions,  to  lean  on  the  ambassador 

of  France ;  Du  Bellay  was  solicited  on  the  other  side. 

"  I  am  exposed  here  to  such  a  heavy  and  continual  lire 

that  I  am  half  dead,"  exclauned  the  Bishop  of  Bayoune; 

and  the  cardinal  met  with  an  unusual  reserve  in  his 

former  confidant. 

Yet  the  crisis  approached.  Like  a  skilful,  but 
affrighted  pilot,  AYolsey  cast  his  eyes  around  him,  to 
discover  a  port  in  which  he  could  take  refuge.  He 
could  find  none  but  his  see  of  York.  He  therefore 
began  once  more  to  complain  of  the  fatigues  of  power, 
of  the  weariness  of  the  diplomatic  career,  and  to  extol 
the  sweetness  of  an  episcopal  life.  On  a  sudden  he 
felt  a  great  interest  about  the  iiock  of  whom  he  had 
never  thought  before.     Those  around  him  shook  their 


heads,  well  knowuig  that  such  a  reti-cat  would  be  to 
Wolsey  the  bitterest  of  disgraces.  Ojio  single  idea 
su|>ported  him  :  if  he  fell,  it  would  be  because  he  had 
chuig  more  to  the  pO])e  tluui  to  the  king:  he  would  be 
the  martyr  of  his  fjiith.  "What  a  faith !  what  a 
martyr ! 


CHAPTER  X. 

Aline  Bolt-yn  at  never— She  Iteads  the  Obedience  of  a  Christian  Man— Is  j 
recalled  to  Court— Miss  Gaiiisford  and  George  Zouch—Tjudale's  Book 
converts  Zouch— Zoueli  iu  Iho  Chapel-Royal— The  Book  seized- Anno 
applies  to  Ucury— The  King  reads  tlie  Book— Pretended  Influence  of 
the  Book  on  Ilenry— Tlie  Court  at  Woodstock- The  Tark  and  its  Cioblina 
—Henry's  Esteem  for  Anne. 

"WniLE  these  things  were  taking  place  Anne  was  living 
at  Ilever  Castle  in  retirement  and  sadness.  Scruples 
from  time  to  time  still  alarmed  her  conscience.  It  is 
true,  the  king  represented  to  her  unceasingly,  that  his 
salvation  and  the  safety  of  his  people  demanded  the 
dissolution  of  a  union  condemned  by  the  Divine  law, 
and  that  v>'liat  he  solicited,  several  popes  had  granted. 
Had  not  Alexander  VI.  annulled,  after  ten  years,  the 
marriage  of  Ladislaus  and  Beatrice  of  Naples/  Had 
not  Louis  XU.,  the  father  of  his  people,  been  divorced 
from  Joan  of  France?  Nothing  was  more  common, 
he  said,  than  to  see  the  divorce  of  a  prince  authorized 
by  a  pope ;  the  secimty  of  the  state  must  be  provided 
for  before  evei-ything  else.  Carried  away  by  these 
arguments,  and  dazzled  by  the  splendour  of  a  throne, 
Aime  Boleyn  consented  to  usurp,  at  Henry's  side,  the 
rank  belonging  to  another.  Yet,  if  she  wsvs  imprudent 
and  ambitious,  she  was  feeling  and  generous ;  and  the 
misfortunes  of  a  cjueen  whom  she  respected  soon  made 
her  reject  with  terror  the  idea  of  taking  her  place. 
The  fertile  pastures  of  Kent  and  the  Gothic  halls  of 
Hever  Castle  were  by  turns  the  witnesses  of  the  mental 
conflicts  this  young  lady  experienced.  The  fear  she 
entertained  of  seeing  the  qneeu  again,  and  the  idea 
that  the  two  cardinals,  her  enemies,  were  plotting  her 
ruin,  made  her  adopt  the  resolution  of  not  returning  to 
court,  and  she  shut  herself  up  in  her  solitary  chamber. 
Anne  had  neither  the  deep  piety  of  a  Biluey,  nor  the 
somewhat  vague  and  mystic  spirituality  observable  in 
Margaret  of  ^'aloLs  ;  it  was  not  feeling  which  prevailed 
in  her  religion ;  it  was  knowledge,  and  a  horror  of 
superstition  and  pharisaism.  Her  mind  requu-ed  light 
and  activity,  and  at  that  time  she  sought  in  reading 
the  consolations  so  necessary  to  her  position.  One  day 
she  opened  one  of  the  books  prohibited  in  England, 
which  a  friend  of  the  Reformation  had  given  her : 
"  The  Obedience  of  a  Christian  Man."  Its  author  was 
William  Tyudale,  that  invisible  man,  whom  Wolsey's 
agents  were  hunting  for  in  Brabant  and  Germany,  and 
this  was  a  recommendation  to  Anne.  " If  thou  belie\e 
the  promises,"  she  read,  "then  God's  truth  justitielh 
thee ;  that  is,  forgiveth  thy  sIls  and  sealeth  thee  with 
His  Holy  Spirit.  If  thou  have  true  faith,  so  seest  thou 
the  exceeding  and  infinite  love  and  mercy  which  God 
hath  shewn  thee  freely  iu  Christ :  then  must  thou  needs 
love  again :  and  love  cannot  but  compel  thee  to  work. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


If,  when  tyrants  oppose  thee,  fliou  have  power  to 
confess,  then  art  tliou  sure  tliat  tlion  art  safe.  If  thou 
be  fallen  from  the  way  of  truth,  come  thereto  again, 
and  thou  art  safe.  Yea,  Christ  shall  save  thee,  and 
the  angels  of  heaven  shall  rejoice  at  thy  coming." 
These  words  did  not  change  Anne's  heart;  but  she 
marked  with  her  nail,  as  was  her  custom,  other  passages 
which  struck  her  more,  and  which  she  desired  to  point 
out  to  the  king  if,  as  she  hoped,  she  was  ever  to  meet 
him  again.  She  believed  that  the  truth  was  there,  and 
took  a  lively  interest  in  those  whom  Wolsey,  Henry, 
and  the  pope,  were  at  that  time  persecuting. 

Anne  was  soon  dragged  from  these  pious  lessons 
and  launched  into  the  midst  of  a  world  full  of  dangers. 
Henry,  convinced  that  he  had  nothing  to  expect  hence- 
forward from  Campeggio,  neglected  those  proprieties 
which  he  had  hitherto  observed,  and,  immediately  after 
the  adjournment,  ordered  Anne  Boleyn  to  return  to 
court ;  he  restored  her  to  the  place  she  had  formerly 
occupied,  and  even  sun-ouuded  her  with  increased 
splendour.  Every  one  saw  that  Anne,  in  the  king's 
mind,  was  queen  of  England ;  and  a  powerful  party 
was  formed  around  her,  which  proposed  to  accomplish 
tlie  definitive  ruin  of  the  cardinal. 

After  her  return  to  court,  Anne  read  much  less 
frequently  "  The  Obedience  of  a  Christian  Man  "  and 
the  "Testament  of  Jesus  Christ."  Henry's  homage, 
her  friends'  intrigues,  and  the  whirl  of  festivities,  bade 
fair  to  stifle  the  thoughts  which  solitude  had  aroused 
ia  her  heart.  One  day,  having  left  Tyndale's  book  in 
a  window.  Miss  Gainsford,  a  fair  young  gentlewoman 
attached  to  her  person,  took  it  up  and  read  it.  A 
gentleman,  of  handsome  mein,  cheerful  temper,  and 
extreme  mildness,  named  George  Zouch,  also  belonging 
to  Anne's  household,  and  betrothed  to  Miss  Gainsford, 
profiting  by  the  liberty  his  position  gave  him,  indulged 
sometimes  in  "  love  tricks."  On  one  occasion,  when 
George  desired  to  have  a  little  talk  with  her,  he  was 
annoyed  to  find  her  absorbed  by  a  book  of  whose 
contents  he  knew  nothing ;  and  taking  advantage  of  a 
moment  when  the  young  lady  had  turned  away  her 
head,  he  laughingly  snatched  it  from  her.  Miss 
Gainsford  ran  after  Zouch  to  recover  her  book ;  but 
just  at  that  moment  she  heard  her  mistress  calling  her, 
and  she  left  George,  threatening  him  with  her  finger. 

As  she  did  not  return  immodiatoly,  George  withdrew 
to  his  room,  and  opened  the  volume ;  it  was  "  The 
Obedience  of  a  Christian  Man."  He  glanced  ovei-  a 
few  lines,  then  a  few  pages,  and  at  last  read  the  book 
through  more  than  once.  He  seemed  to  hear  the  voice 
of  God.  '•  I  feel  the  Spii-it  of  God,"  he  said,  "  speakiug 
in  my  heart,  as  He  has  spoken  in  the  heart  of  him  who 
wrote  the  book."  The  words  which  had  only  made  a 
temporary  impression  on  the  preoccupied  mind  of  Anne 
Boleyn,  penetrated  to  the  heart  of  her  equerry  and 
converted  him.  Miss  Gainsford,  fearing  that  Anne 
would  ask  for  her  book,  entreated  George  to  restore  it 
to  her;  but  he  positively  refused;  and  even  the  young 
hidy's  tears  failed  to  make  him  give  up  a  volume  in 
which  he  had  found  the  life  of  his  soul.  Becoming 
more  serious,  he  no  longer  jested  as  before ;  and  when 
Miss  Gainsford  peremptorily  demanded  the  book,  he 
was,  says  the  chronicler,  "  ready  to  weep  himself." 

Zouch,  finding  in  this  volume  an  edification  which 


empty  forms  and  ceremonies  coiUd  not  give,  used  to 
carry  it  with  him  to  the  king's  chapel.  Dr.  Sampson, 
the  dean,  generally  ofiiciated ;  and  while  the  choir 
chanted  the  service,  George  would  be  absorbed  iu  his 
book,  where  he  read :  "  If,  when  thou  seest  the  celebra- 
tion of  the  sacrament  of  the  Lord's  Supper,  thou  be- 
lievest  iu  this  promise  of  Christ :  This  is  my  hocly  that  is 
broken  for  you,  and  if  thou  have  this  promise  fast  in 
thine  heart,  thou  art  saved  and  justified  thereby;  thou 
eatest  His  body  and  drinkest  His  blood.  If  not,  so 
helpeth  it  thee  not,  thougli  thou  hearest  a  thousand 
masses  in  a  day;  no  more  than  it  should  help  thee  in  a 
dead  thirst  to  behold  a  bush  at  a  tavern  door,  if  thou 
knewest  not  thereby  that  there  was  wine  within  to  be 
sold."  The  young  man  dwelt  upon  these  words :  by  faith 
he  ate  the  body  and  drank  the  blood  of  the  Son  of  God. 
This  was  what  was  passing  iu  the  palaces  of  Henry 
VIII. ;  tliere  were  saints  in  the  household  of  Ciesar. 

Wolsey,  desirous  of  removing  from  the  court  every 
thing  that  might  favour  the  Reformation,  had  recom- 
mended extreme  vigilance  to  Dr.  Sampson,  so  as  to 
prevent  the  circulation  of  the  innovating  books.  Ac- 
cordingly, one  day  when  George  was  in  the  chapel 
absorbed  in  his  book,  the  dean,  who,  oven  while 
officiating,  had  not  lost  sight  of  the  young  man,  called 
him  to  him  after  the  service,  and  rudely  taking  the 
book  from  his  hands,  demanded :  "  What  is  your  name, 
and  in  whose  service  are  you?"  Zouch  having  replied, 
the  dean  withdrew  with  a  very  angry  look,  and  carried 
his  prey  to  the  cardinal. 

Wlien  Miss  Gainsford  heard  of  this  mishap,  her 
grief  was  extreme ;  she  trembled  at  the  thought  that 
"  The  Obedience  of  a  Christian  Mau"  was  in  Wolsey 's 
hands.  Not  long  after  this,  Anne  having  asked  for 
her  book,  the  young  lady  fell  on  her  knees,  confessed 
all,  and  begged  to  be  forgiven.  Anne  uttered  not  a 
word  of  reproach ;  her  quick  mind  saw  immediately  the 
advantage  she  might  derive  from  this  affair.  '•  Well," 
said  she,  "  it  shall  be  the  dearest  book  to  them  that 
ever  the  dean  or  cardinal  took  away." 

"The  noble  lady,"  as  the  chronicler  styles  her, 
immediately  demanded  an  interview  of  the  king,  and, 
on  reaching  his  presence,  she  fell  at  his  feet,  and 
bcgired  his  assistance.  "What  is  the  matter,  Anne?" 
said  till-  a>lniii>lir(l  monarch.  She  told  him  what  had 
hap|iiMn<l,  anil  lluury  promised  that  the  book  should 
not  rcnuiiii  ill  A\'ulsey's  hands. 

Anne  had  scarcely  quitted  the  royal  apartments 
when  the  cardinal  arrived  with  the  fanious  volume, 
with  the  intention  of  complaining  to  Heniy  of  certain 
passages  which  he  knew  could  not  fail  to  irritate  him, 
and  to  take  advantage  of  it  even  to  attack  Anne,  if  the 
king  should  be  offended.  Henry's  icy  reception  closed 
his  mouth ;  the  king  confined  himself  to  taking  the 
book,  and  bowing  out  the  cardinal.  This  was  precisely 
what  Aune  had  hoped  for.  She  begged  the  king  to 
read  the  book,  which  he  promised  to  do. 

And  Henry  accordingly  shut  himself  up  in  his  closet, 
and  read  "The  Obedience  of  a  Christian  Man."  There 
were  few  works  better  calculated  to  enlighten  him,  and 
none,  after  the  Bible,  that  has  had  more  influence  upon 
the  Reformation  iu  England.  Tyndale  treated  of 
obedience,  "  the  essential  principle,"  as  he  terms  it,  "  of 
every  political  or  religious  community."    He  declaimed 


THE  KING  READS  TYNDALE'S  BOOK. 


against  the  unlawful  power  of  the  popes,  who  usurped 
the  lawful  authority  of  Christ  and  of  His  "SVord.  lie 
professed  political  doctrines  too  favourable,  doubtless, 
to  absolute  power,  but  calculated  to  shew  that  the 
reformers  were  not,  as  had  been  asserted,  instigators 
of  rebellion.     Henry  read  as  follows  : — 

"  Tiic  king  is  in  the  room  of  God  in  this  world.  He 
that  resistolii  the  king,  resistelh  God  ;  lie  that  judgeth 
the  king,  jmlgelh  God.  He  is  the  minister  of  God  to 
defend  thee  from  a  thousand  inconveniences;  tiiough 
he  be  the  greatest  tyrant  iu  tiie  world,  yet  is  he  unto 
thee  a  great  benefit  of  God ;  for  it  is  belter  to  pay  the 
tenth  than  to  lose  all,  and  to  suffer  wrong  of  one  man 
than  of  every  man." 

These  are  indeed  strange  doctrines  for  rebels  to  hold, 
thought  the  king;  and  he  continued : 

"Let  kings,  if  they  had  lever  [ratlier]  be  Cliristians 
in  deed  than  so  to  be  called,  give  themselves  altogether 
to  the  wealth  [well-being]  of  their  realms,  after  the 
ensamplc  of  Jesus  Clirist ;  remembering  that  the  people 
are  God's,  and  not  theirs;  j-ea,  are  Christ's  inheritance, 
bought  with  His  blood.  The  most  despised  person  iu 
his  realm  (if  he  is  a  Christian)  is  equal  with  him  iu  the 
kingdom  of  God  and  of  Christ.  Let  the  king  put  off 
all  pride,  and  become  a  brother  to  the  poorest  of  his 
subjects." 

It  is  probable  that  these  words  were  less  satisfactory 
to  the  king.     He  kept  on  reading  : — 

"  Emperors  and  kings  are  nothing  now-a-days,  but 
even  hangmen  unto  the  pope  and  bishops,  to  kill  whom- 
soever they  condemn,  as  Pilate  was  unto  the  scribes 
and  Pharisees,  aud  high  bishops,  to  hang  Christ." 

This  seemed  to  Heniy  rather  strong  language. 

"The  pope  hath  received  no  other  authority  of 
Christ  than  to  preach  God's  'W'ord.  Now,  this  Word 
should  rule  only,  and  not  bishops'  decrees  or  the  pope's 
pleasure.  In  pnrsentia  majoris  cessat  jiotesias  minoris, — 
in  the  presence  of  the  greater  the  less  hath  no  power. 
The  pope,  against  all  the  doctrine  of  Christ,  which 
saith.  Ml/  Hn/jdom  is  not  of  this  icorld,  hath  usurped  the 
right  of  the  emperor.  Kings  must  make  account  of 
their  doings  only  to  God.  No  person  may  be  exempt 
from  this  ordinance  of  God;  neither  can  the  profession 
of  monks  aud  friars,  or  anything  that  the  popes  or 
bishops  can  lay  for  themselves,  except  them  from  the 
sword  of  the  emperor  or  king,  if  they  break  the  laws. 
For  it  is  written,  (Rom.  xiii.,)  Let  every  soul  submit 
himself  unto  the  authority  of  the  higher  powers." 

"  What  excellent  reading ! "  exclaimed  Henry,  when 
he  had  finished ;  "  this  is  truly  a  book  for  all  kings 
to  read,  aud  for  me  particularly." 

Captivated  by  Tyndale's  work,  the  king  began  to 
converse  with  Anne  about  the  church  and  the  pope ; 
and  she  who  had  seen  Margaret  of  Valois  unassumingly 
endeavour  to  instruct  Frauds  I.,  strove  in  like  manner 
to  enlighten  Henry  VHI.  She  did  not  possess  the 
influence  over  him  she  desired ;  this  unhappy  prince 
■was,  to  the  very  end  of  his  life,  opposed  to  the  evan- 
gelical Keformation ;  Protestants  aud  Catholics  have 
been  equally  mistaken  when  they  have  regarded  him 
as  being  favourable  to  it.  "  In  a  short  time,"  says 
the  annalist,  quoted  by  Strype  at  the  end  of  his  narra- 
tive, "  the  king,  by  the  help  of  this  vii'tuous  lady,  had 
his  eyes  open  to  the  truth.     He  learned  to  seek  after 


that  truth,  to  advance  God's  reb'gion  and  glory,  to 
detest  the  pope's  doctrine,  his  lies,  his  pomp,  and  pride, 
and  to  deliver  his  subjects  from  the  Egyptian  darkness 
and  Babylonian  bonds  that  the  pope  had  brought  him 
and  his  subjects  under.  Despising  the  rebellions  of 
his  subjects,  and  the  rage  of  so  many  mighty  poten- 
tates abroad,  he  set  forward  a  religious  reformation, 
which,  beginning  with  the  triple-crowned  head,  came 
down  to  all  the  members  of  the  hierarchy."  Histoiy 
has  rarely  delivered  a  more  erroneous  judgment. 
Henry's  eyes  were  never  opened  to  the  truth,  and  it 
was  not  he  who  made  the  Ueformalion.  It  was  ac- 
complished first  of  all  by  Scripture,  and  then  by  the 
ministry  of  simple  and  faitliful  men  baptized  of  the 
Holy  Ghost. 

Yet  Tyndale's  book  and  the  conduct  of  the  legates 
had  given  rise  in  the  king's  mind  to  new  thoughts, 
which  he  sought  time  to  mature.  He  desired  also  to 
conceal  his  auger  from  Wolscy  and  Campeggio,  and 
dissipate  his  spleen,  says  the  historian  Collyer;  he 
therefore  gave  orders  to  remove  the  court  to  tlie  palace 
of  Woodstock.  The  magnificent  park  attached  to  this 
royal  residence,  in  which  was  the  celebrated  bower 
constructed  (it  is  said)  by  Henry  II.  to  conceal  the 
fair  Rosamond,  offered  all  the  charms  of  the  prome- 
nade, the  chase,  and  solitude.  Hence  he  could  easily 
repair  to  Langly,  Grafton,  and  other  country  seats. 
It  was  not  long  before  the  entertainments,  horse-races, 
aud  other  rural  sports  began.  The  world  with  its 
pleasures  aud  its  grandeur  were,  at  the  bottom,  the 
idols  of  Anne  Boleyn's  heart ;  but  yet  she  felt  a  cer- 
tain attraction  for  the  new  doctrine,  which  was  con- 
founded in  her  mind  with  the  great  cause  of  all 
knowledge,  perhaps  even  with  her  own.  More  en- 
lightened than  the  generality  of  women,  she  -was 
distinguished  by  the  superiority  of  her  understandino-, 
not  only  over  her  own  sex,  but  even  over  many  of  the 
gentlemen  of  the  court.  While  Catherine,  a  member 
of  the  third  order  of  St.  Francis,  indulged  in  trifling 
practices,  the  more  intelligent,  if  not  more  pious  Anne, 
cared  but  little  for  amulets  which  the  friars  had 
blessed,  for  apparitions,  or  visions  of  angels.  Wood- 
stock furnished  her  with  an  opportunity  of  curing 
Henry  \U1.  of  the  superstitious  ideas  natural  to  him. 
There  was  a  place  in  the  forest  said  to  be  haunted 
by  evil  spirits;  not  a  priest  or  a  courtier  dared  approach 
it.  A  tradition  ran,  that  if  a  king  ventured  to  cross 
the  boundary,  he  would  fall  dead.  Anne  resolved  to 
take  Henry  there.  Accordingly,  one  morning  she  led 
the  way  in  the  direction  of  the  place  where  these 
mysterious  powers  manifested  their  presence  (as  it  was 
said)  by  strange  apparitions ;  they  entered  the  wood; 
they  arrived  at  the  so  much  dreaded  spot;  all  hesitated; 
but  Anne's  calmness  reassiu-ed  her  companions ;  they 
advanced;  they  found  .  .  .  nothing  but  trees  and 
turf,  and,  laughing  at  their  former  terrors,  they  ex- 
plored every  corner  of  this  mysterious  resort  of  the 
evil  spirits.  Anne  returned  to  the  palace,  congratu- 
lating herself  on  the  triumph  Henry  had  gained  over 
his  imaginary  fears.  This  prince,  who  could  as  yet 
bear  with  superiority  in  others,  was  struck  with  Anne 
Boleyn's. 

Never  too  gay  nor  yet  too  melancholy, 
A  heavenly  mind  is  hers,  like  angels  holy 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


None  piircv  ever  soared  above  the  skj'. 

O  mighty  marvel !  thus  may  every  eye 

See  of  what  monster  strange  the  humble  serf  am  I; 

Monster  indeed,  lor  in  her  frame  divine 

A  woman's  form,  man's  heart,  and  angel's  head  comhine. 

These  versos  of  Clement  Marot,  written  in  honour 
of  Margaret  of  Valois,  faithfully  express  what  Henry 
then  felt  for  Anno,  who  had  been  with  Marot  in  the 
househokl  of  that  princess.  Henry's  love  may  perhaps 
lia\c  deceived  him  as  to  Anne's  excellences. 


CHAPTER  XL 

EniljaiTass)nciit  of  the  Pope— The  Triumphs  of  Charles  decide  him— Ho 
Traverses  tlie  Cause  to  Rome— Wolsey's  Dejection — Henry's  Wrath — 
His  Fears— Wolsey  obtains  Comfort— Arrival  of  the  two  Legates  at 
Crafton— Wolsey's  reception  by  Henry -Wolsey  and  Norfolk  at  Dinner 
—Henry  with  Anne— Conference  between  the  King  and  the  Cardinal — 
Wolsey's  Joy  and  Grief— The  Supper  at  Euston— Campeggio's  Farewell 
Audience— Wolsey's  Disgrace- Campeggio  at  Dover— He  is  Accused  by 
tlie  Courtiers— Leaves  England— Wolsey  foresees  his  own  Fall  and  that 
of  the  Papacy. 

While  tlie  court  was  thus  taking  its  pleasure  at  Wood- 
stock, Wolsey  remained  in  London,  a  prey  to  the  acutest 
anguish.  "This  avocation  to  Rome,"  wrote  he  to  Gre- 
goi-y  Da  Casale,  "  will  not  only  completely  alienate  the 
king  and  his  realm  from  the  apostolic  see,  but  will  ruin 
me  utterly."  This  message  had  hardly  reached  the 
pope,  before  the  imperial  ambassadors  handed  to  him 
the  queen's  protest,  and  added  in  a  very  significant 
tone  :  "  If  your  holiness  does  not  call  this  cause  before 
you,  the  emperor,  who  is  determined  to  bring  it  to  an 
end,  will  have  recourse  to  other  arguments."  The  same 
perplexity  always  agitated  Clement :  Which  of  the  two 
must  be  sacrificed,  Henry  or  Charles?  Anthony  do 
Leyva,  who  commanded  the  imperial  forces,  having 
routed  the  French  army,  the  pope  no  longer  doubted 
that  Charles  was  the  elect  of  Heaven.  It  was  not 
Europe  alone  which  acknowledged  this  prince's  autho- 
rity; a  new  world  had  just  laid  its  power  and  its  gold 
at  his  feet.  The  formidable  priest-king  of  the  Aztecs 
had  been  unable  to  withstand  Cortez ;  could  the  priest- 
king  of  Rome  withstand  Charles  V.'?  Cortez  had  re- 
turned from  Mexico,  bringing  with  him  Mexican  chiefs 
in  all  their  barbarous  splendour,  with  thousands  of 
2iesos,  with  gold  and  silver,  and  emeralds  of  extraor- 
dinary size,  with  magnificent  tissues,  and  birds  of 
brilliant  plumage.  He  had  accompanied  Charles,  who 
was  then  going  to  Italy,  to  the  place  of  embarkation, 
and  had  sent  to  Clement  VII.  costly  gifts  of  the 
precious  metals,  valuable  jewels,  and  a  troop  of  Mexi- 
can dancers,  buffoons,  and  jugglers,  who  charmed  the 
pope  and  tlie  cardinal  above  all  things. 

Clement,  even  while  refusing  Henry's  prayer,  had 
not  as  yet  granted  the  emperor's.  He  thought  he  could 
now  resist  no  longer  the  star  of  a  monarch  victorious 
over  two  worlds,  and  hastened  to  enter  into  negotiations 
with  him.  Sudden  terrors  still  assailed  him  from  time 
to  time  :  My  refusal  (ho  said  to  himself)  may  perhaps 
cause  me  to  lose  England.  But  Charles,  holding  him 
in  his  powerful  grasp,  compelled  him  to  submit.   Henry's 


antecedents  were  rather  encouraging  to  the  pontiff. 
How  could  he  imagine  that  a  prince,  who  alone  of  all 
the  mouarchs  of  Europe  had  once  contended  against 
the  great  reformer,  would  now  separate  from  the  pope- 
dom ?  On  the  Gth  of  July,  Clement  declared  to  the 
English  envoys  that  he  avolced  to  Rome  the  cause 
between  Henry  VIH.  and  Catherine  of  Arragon.  In 
other  words,  this  was  refusing  the  divorce.  "  There 
are  twenty-three  points  in  this  case,"  said  the  courtiers, 
"  and  tlie  debate  on  the  first  has  lasted  a  year ;  before 
the  end  of  the  trial  the  king  will  be  not  only  past 
marrying,  but  past  living." 

AVheu  he  learned  that  the  fatal  blow  had  been  struck, 
Bennett,  in  a  tone  of  sadness,  exclaimed:  "Alas  !  most 
holy  father,  by  this  act  the  church  iu  England  will  be 
utterly  destroyed ;  the  king  declared  it  to  me  with  tears 
in  his  eyes." — "■  Why  is  it  my  fortune  to  live  in  such 
evil  days?"  replied  the  pope,  who,  iu  his  turu,  began 
to  weep  ;  "  but  I  am  encircled  by  the  emperor's  force?, 
and  if  I  were  to  please  the  king,  I  should  draw  a 
fearful  ruin  upon  myself  and  upon  the  church.  .  . 
God  will  be  my  judge." 

On  the  1.5th  of  July,  Da  Casale  sent  the  fatal  news 
to  the  English  minister.  The  king  was  cited  before 
the  pope,  and  iu  case  of  refusal,  condemned  in  a  fine 
of  10,000  ducats.  On  the  ISth  of  July,  peace  was 
proclaimed  at  Rome  between  the  pontiff  and  the 
emperor;  and  on  the  next  day  (these  dates  are  im- 
portant) Clement,  wishing  still  to  make  one  more 
attempt  to  ward  off  the  blow  with  which  the  papacy 
was  tlireatened,  wrote  to  Cardinal  Wolsey :  "  My  dear 
son,  how  can  I  describe  to  you  my  aflliction?  Shew 
in  this  matter  the  prudence  which  so  distinguishes  you, 
and  preserve  the  king  iu  those  kindly  feelings  which 
he  has  ever  manifested  towards  me."  A  useless 
attempt!  Far  from  saving  the  papacy,  Wolsey  was 
to  be  wrecked  along  with  it. 

Wolsey  was  thunderstruck.  At  the  very  time  he 
was  assuring  Henry  of  the  attachment  of  Clement  and 
Francis,  both  were  deserting  him.  The  "politic 
handling  "  failed,  which  the  cardinal  had  thought  so 
skilful,  and  which  had  been  so  tortuous.  Henry  now 
had  none  but  enemies  on  the  continent  of  Europe,  and 
the  Reformation  was  daily  spreading  over  his  kingdom. 
Wolsey's  anguish  cannot  be  described.  His  power, 
his  pomp,  his  palaces,  were  all  threatened ;  who  could 
tell  whether  he  would  even  preserve  his  liberty  and  his 
life? — A  just  reward  for  so  much  duplicity. 

But  the  king's  wrath  -was  to  be  greater  than  even 
the  minister's  alarm.  His  terrified  servants  wondered 
how  they  should  announce  the  iimil ill's  dri-ision. 
Gardiner,  who,  after  his  return  from  Kmii.',  h:ul  \nv\\ 
named  secretary  of  state,  went  down  tn  Laiigloy  on  the 
3rd  of  August  to  communicate  it  to  him.  What  news 
for  the  proud  Tudor!  The  decision  on  the  divorce 
was  forbidden  in  England ;  the  cause  avoked  to  Rome, 
there  to  be  buried  and  unjustly  lost;  Francis  I.  treating 
with  the  emperor;  Charles  and  Clement  on  the  point 
of  exchanging  at  Bologna  the  most  striking  sigus  of 
their  unchangeable  alliance ;  the  services  rendered  by 
the  king  to  the  popedom  repaid  with  the  blackest  in- 
gratitude; his  hope  of  giving  an  heir  to  the  crown 
disgracef idly  frustrated ;  and  last,  but  not  least,  Heni-y 
VIII.,  the  proudest  monarch  of  Christendom,  summoned 


HENRY'S  ANGER,  AND  WOLSEY'S  DISFAVOUR. 


to  Rome  to  appear  before  an  ecclesiastical  tribunal ! 
.  .  .  .  It  was  too  much  for  Henry.  His  wrath,  a 
moment  restrained,  buret  forth  like  a  clap  of  thunder, 
and  all  trembled  around  him.  "Do  they  presume," 
ho  exclaimed,  "to  try  my  cause  elsewhere  than  in  my 
own  dominions?  I,  the  king  of  E norland,  .summoned 
before  au  Italian  tribunal !  .  .  .  Yes,  ...  I 
will  go  to  Rome,  but  it  shall  be  with  such  a  mighty 
army  that  the  pope,  and  his  priests,  and  all  Ital}-,  shall 
be  struck  with  terror.  I  forbid  the  letters  of  citation 
to  be  c.\ecuted,"  he  continued;  "1  forbid  the  com- 
mission to  consider  its  functions  at  an  end."  Henry 
would  have  dr.-irid  to  (imi-  dlT  ( 'aiii|M;j;jin's  purple 
robes,  and  tlnviw  this  piince  nl'  ihe  UMHiau  Clmrcli  into 
prison,  in  order  tu  fri.^lileii  ClciiieiU  ;  bnt  tlie  very 
magnitude  of  the  insult  compelled  him  to  restrain  him- 
self. He  feared,  above  all  things,  to  ajjpoar  hnniljliil 
in  the  eyes  of  England,  and  he  hoped,  by  shewing 
moderation,  to  hide  the  affront  he  had  received.  "  Let 
everything  be  done,"  he  told  Gardiner,  "to  conceal 
from  my  subjects  tliose  letters  of  citation,  which  arc 
60  hurtful  to  my  glory.  Write  to  AVolsey  that  I  have 
the  greatest  confidence  in  his  dexterity,  and  that  he 
ought,  by  good  handling,  to  win  over  Campeggio  and 
the  queen's  councillors,  and,  above  all,  prevail  upon 
them,  at  any  price,  not  to  serve  these  citatory  letters 
on  me."  But  Heniy  had  hardly  given  his  instructions 
when  the  insult,  of  which  he  had  boon  the  object,  re- 
curred to  his  imagination ;  the  thought  of  Clement 
haunted  him  night  and  day,  and  he  swore  to  exact  a 
striking  vengeance  from  the  pontiff.  Rome  desires  to 
have  no  more  to  do  with  England.  .  .  .  Engl.and, 
in  her  turn,  will  cast  off  Rome.  Henry  will  sacrifice 
AVolsey,  Clement,  and  the  church  ;  nothing  shall  stop 
his  fury.  Tlie  crafty  pontiff  has  concealed  his  game, 
the  king  shall  beat  him  openly;  and  from  age  to  age 
the  popedom  shall  shed  tears  over  the  imprudent  folly 
of  a  medici. 

Thus,  after  insupportable  delays,  which  had  fatigued 
the  nation,  a  thunderbolt  fell  upon  England.  Court, 
clergy,  and  people,  from  whom  it  was  impossible  to 
conceal  these  great  events,  were  deeply  stirred,  and 
the  whole  kingdom  was  in  commotion.  Wolsoy,  still 
hoping  to  ward  off  the  ruin  impending  over  both  him- 
self and  the  papacy,  immediately  put  in  play  all  that 
dexterity  which  Henry  had  spoken  of.  He  so  far 
prevailed  that  the  letters  citatorial  were  not  served  on 
the  king,  but  only  the  brief  addressed  to  Wolsey  by 
Clement  VII.  The  cardinal,  all  radiant  with  this 
tri\ial  success,  and  desirous  of  profiting  by  it  to  raise 
his  credit,  resolved  to  accompany  Campeggio,  who  was 
going  down  to  Grafton  to  take  leave  of  the  king. 
A\'hen  the  coming  of  the  two  legates  was  heard  of  at 
court,  the  .agitation  was  very  great.  The  dukes  of 
N(U-folk  and  Suffolk  regarded  this  proceeding  as  the 
last  effort  of  their  enemy,  and  entreated  Henry  not  to 
receive  him.  "  The  king  will  receive  him,"  said  some. 
"  The  king  will  not  receive  him,"  answered  others.  At 
length,  one  Sunday  morning,  it  was  announced  that 
the  prelates  were  at  the  gates  of  the  mansion.  Wolsey 
looked  round  with  an  anxious  eye  for  the  great  ollicers 
who  were  accustomed  to  introduce  him.  They  appeared, 
and  desired  Campeggio  to  follow  them.  When  the 
legate  had  been  taken  to  his  apartments,  Wolsey  waited 


his  turn ;  but  great  was  his  consternation  on  being 
informed  that  there  was  no  chamber  appointed  for  him 
in  the  palace.  Sir  Henry  Norris,  groom  of  the  stole, 
offered  Wolsey  the  use  of  his  own  room ;  and  the 
cardin.al  followed  him,  almost  sinking  beneath  the 
humiliation  he  had  undergone.  He  made  ready  to 
ai)pear  before  the  king,  and  summoning  up  his  courage, 
proceeded  to  the  presence-chamber. 

The  lords  of  the  council  w(  re  siandiiig  in  a  row  ac- 
cording to  their  rank;  Wolsey,  lakin.;  c.tt  liis  hat,  pjisscd 
along  saluting  each  of  them  wllli  alle.ted  civility.  A 
groat  number  of  courtiers  arrived,  inijiatient  to  see  how 
Henry  would  receive  his  old  favourite;  and  most  of 
them  were  already  exulting  in  the  striking  disgrace  of 
which  they  hoped  to  be  witnesses.  At  last  the  king 
was  announced. 

Henry  stood  under  the  cloth  of  state;  and  Wolsey 
advanced  and  knelt  before  him.  Deep  silence  prevailed 
throughout  the  chamber.  .  .  .  To  the  surprise  of 
all,  Henry  stooped  down  and  raised  him  up  with  both 
bauds.  .  .  .  Then,  with  a  pleasing  smile,  he  took 
Wolsey  to  the  window,  desu-ed  him  to  put  on  his  hat, 
and  talked  familiarly  with  him.  "  Then,"  says  Caven- 
dish, the  cardinal's  gentleman  usher,  "  it  would  have 
made  you  smile  to  behold  the  countenances  of  those 
who  had  laid  wagers  that  the  king  would  not  speak 
with  him." 

But  this  was  the  last  ray  of  cveniug  which  then 
lighted  up  the  darkening  fortunes  of  AVolsey :  the  star 
of  his  favour  was  about  to  set  for  ever.  .  .  .  The 
silence  continued;  for  every  one  desired  to  catch  a  few 
words  of  the  conversation.  The  king  seemed  to  be 
accusing  Wolsey,  and  Wolsey  to  be  justifying  himself. 
On  a  sudden  Henry  pulled  a  letter  out  of  his  bosom, 
and,  shewing  it  to  the  cardinal,  said  in  a  loud  voice : 
"  How  can  that  be  1  is  not  this  your  hand  ?"  It  was 
no  doubt  the  letter  which  Bryan  had  intercepted. 
AVolsey  replied  in  an  under-toue,  and  seemed  to  have 
appeased  his  master.  The  dinner  hour  having  arrived, 
the  king  left  the  room,  telling  Wolsoy  that  he  woidd 
not  fail  to  see  him  again  ;  the  courtiers  were  eager  to 
make  their  profoundest  reverences  to  the  cardinal,  but 
he  haughtily  traversed  the  chamber,  and  the  dukes 
hastened  to  carry  to  Anne  Boleyn  the  news  of  this 
astonishing  reception. 

AVolsey,  Campeggio,  and  the  lords  of  the  council,  sat 
down  to  dinner.  The  cardinal,  well  aware  that  the 
terrible  letter  would  be  his  utter  ruin,  and  that  Henry's 
good  graces  had  no  other  object  than  to  prepare  his 
fall,  began  to  hint  at  his  retu-ement.  "  Truly,"  said 
he  with  a  devout  air,  "  the  king  would  do  well  to  send 
his  bishops  and  chaphuns  home  to  then-  cures  and 
benefices."  The  company  looked  at  one  another  with 
astonishment.  "  Yea,  marry,"  said  the  Duke  of  Nor- 
folk, somewhat  rudely ;  "  and  so  it  were  meet  for  you 
to  do  also." — '•  I  should  be  very  well  contented  there- 
with," answered  AA^olsey,  "if  it  were  the  king's  pleasure 
to  license  me  with  leave  to  go  to  my  cure  at  AA'inches- 
ter." — "Nay,  to  your  benefice  at  York,  where  your 
greatest  honour  and  charge  is,"  replied  Norfolk,  who 
was  not  willing  that  AVolsey  should  be  living  so  near 
Henry.  "Even  as  it  shall  please  the  king,"  added 
AVolsey,  and  changed  the  subject  of  conversation. 

Henry  had  caused  himself  to  be  announced  to  Anne 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


Boleyn,  who  (says  Cavendish)  "  kept  state  at  Grafton 
more  like  a  queen  than  a  simple  maid.  Possessing 
extreme  sensibility,  and  an  ardent  imagination,  Anne, 
who  felt  the  slightest  insult  with  all  the  sensibility  of 
her  woman's  heart,  was  very  dissatisfied  with  the  king 
after  the  report  of  the  dukes.  Accordingly,  heedless 
of  the  presence  of  the  attendants,  she  said  to  him : 
"  Sir,  is  it  not  a  marvellous  thing  to  see  into  what 
great  danger  the  cardinal  hath  brought  you  with  all 
your  subjects  ?" — "  How  so,  sweetheart  ?"  asked  Henry. 
Anne  continued  :  "  Are  you  ignorant  of  the  hatred  his 
exactions  have  drawn  upon  you  ?  There  is  not  a  man 
in  your  whole  realm  of  England  worth  one  hundred 
pounds,  but  he  hath  made  you  his  debtor."  Auue  here 
alluded  to  tlie  loan  the  king  had  raised  among  his 
subjects.  "AVell,  well,"  said  Heury,  who  was  not 
pleased  with  these  remarks,  "I  know  that  matter 
better  than  you." — "  If  my  lord  of  Norfolk,  my  lord  of 
Suffolk,  my  luicle,  or  my  father,  had  done  much  less 
than  the  cardinal  hath  done,"  continued  Anne,  "  they 
would  have  lost  their  heads  ere  this."  '■■  Then  I  per- 
ceive," said  Henry,  "  you  are  none  of  his  friends." — 
"No,  sir,  I  have  no  cause,  nor  any  that  love  you," 
she  replied.  The  dinner  was  ended  ;  the  king,  without 
appearing  at  all  touched,  proceeded  to  the  presence- 
chamber  where  Wolsey  expected  him. 

After  a  long  conversation,  carried  on  in  a  low  tone, 
the  king  took  Wolsey  by  the  hand  and  led  him  into  his 
private  chamber.  The  courtiers  awaited  impatiently 
the  termination  of  an  interview  which  might  decide  the 
fate  of  England;  they  walked  up  and  down  the  gallery, 
often  passing  before  the  door  of  the  closet,  in  the  hope 
of  catching  from  Wolsey's  looks,  when  he  opened  it, 
the  result  of  this  secret  conference ;  but  one  quarter  of 
an  hour  followed  another,  these  became  hours,  and 
still  the  cardinal  did  not  appear.  Henry  having 
resolved  that  this  conversation  should  be  the  last,  was 
no  doubt  collecting  from  his  minister  all  the  information 
necessary  to  him.  But  the  courtiers  imagined  he  was 
returning  into  his  master's  favour;  Norfolk,  Suffolk, 
Wiltshire,  and  the  other  enemies  of  the  prime  minister, 
began  to  grow  alarmed,  and  hastened  off  to  Anne 
Boleyn,  who  was  their  last  hope. 

It  was  night  when  the  king  and  Wolsey  quitted  the 
royal  closet ;  the  former  appeared  gracious,  the  latter 
satisfied;  it  was  always  Henry's  custom  to  smile  on 
those  he  intended  to  sacrifice.  "  I  shall  see  you  in 
the  morning,"  he  said  to  the  cardinal  with  a  friendly 
air.  Wolsey  made  a  low  bow,  and,  turning  round  to 
the  courtiers,  saw  the  king's  smile  reflected  on  tlieir 
faces.  Wiltshire,  Tuke,  and  even  Suffolk,  were  full 
of  civility.  "Well,"  thought  he,  "the  motion  of  such 
weathercocks  as  these  shews  me  from  what  quarter 
the  wind  of  favour  is  blowing." 

But  a  moment  after  the  wind  began  to  change.  Men 
with  torches  waited  for  the  cardinal  at  the  gates  of  the 
palace  to  conduct  him  to  the  place  where  he  would 
have  to  pass  the  night.  Thus  he  was  not  to  sleep 
beneath  the  same  roof  with  Henry.  He  was  to  lie  at 
Eustou,  one  of  Empsou's  houses,  about  three  miles  off. 
Wolsey,  repressing  his  vexation,  mounted  his  horse; 
the  footmen  preceded  him  with  their  links,  and  after 
an  hour's  riding  along  very  bad  roads,  he  reached  the 
lodging  assigned  him. 


He  had  sat  down  to  supper,  to  which  some  of  his 
most  intimate  friends  had  been  invited,  when  suddenly 
Gardiner  was  announced.  Gardiner  owed  everything 
to  the  cardinal,  and  yet  he  had  not  appeared  before 
him  since  his  return  from  Rome.  He  comes,  no  doubt, 
to  play  the  hypocrite  and  the  spy,  thought  Wolsey. 
But  as  soon  as  the  secretary  entered,  AVolsey  rose, 
made  him  a  graceful  compliment,  and  prayed  him  to 
take  a  seat.  "  Master  Secretary,"  he  asked,  "  where 
have  you  been  since  your  return  from  Rome  1 " — "  I 
have  been  following  the  court  from  place  to  place." 
"  You  have  been  hunting,  then.  Have  you  any  dogs?" 
asked  the  prime  minister,  who  knew  very  well  what 
Gardiner  had  been  doing  in  the  king's  closet. — "A 
few,"  replied  Gardiner.  Wolsey  thought  that  even  the 
secretary  was  a  bloodhound  on  his  track.  And  yet, 
after  supper,  he  took  Gardiner  aside,  and  conversed 
with  him  until  midnight.  He  thought  it  prudent  to 
neglect  nothing  that  might  clear  up  his  position ;  and 
Wolsey  sounded  Gardiner,  just  as  he  himself  had  been 
sounded  by  Henry  not  long  before. 

The  same  night,  at  Grafton,  the  king  gave  Cam- 
peggio  a  farewell  audience,  and  treated  him  very 
kindly,  "  by  giving  him  presents  and  other  matters," 
says  Du  Bellay.  Henry  then  returned  to  Anne  Boleyn, 
The  dukes  had  pointed  out  to  her  the  importance  of 
the  present  moment ;  she  therefore  asked,  and  obtained 
of  Henry,  without  any  great  difficulty,  his  promise 
never  to  speak  to  his  minister  again.  The  insults  of 
the  papacy  had  exasperated  the  King  of  England,  and, 
as  he  could  not  punish  Clement,  he  took  his  revenge 
on  the  cardinal. 

The  next  morning,  Wolsey,  impatient  to  have  the 
interview  which  Henry  had  promised,  rode  back  early 
to  Grafton.  But  as  he  came  near,  he  met  a  numerous 
train  of  servants  and  sumpter-horses ;  and  presently 
afterwards  Henry,  with  Anne  Boleyn  and  many  lords 
and  ladies  of  the  court,  came  riding  up.  "  What  does 
all  this  mean  ?  "  thought  the  cardinal  in  dismay.  "  My 
lord,"  said  the  king,  as  he  drew  near,  "  I  cannot  stay 
with  you  now.  You  will  return  to  London  with  Car- 
dinal Campeggio."  Then,  striking  the  spurs  into  his 
horse,  Henry  galloped  off  with  a  friendly  salutation. 
After  him  came  Anno  Boleyn,  who  rode  past  AVolsey 
with  head  erect,  and  casting  on  him  a  proud  look. 
The  court  proceeded  to  Ilartwell  Park,  where  Anne 
had  determined  to  keep  the  king  all  day.  Wolsey  was 
confounded.  There  was  no  room  for  doubt ;  his  dis- 
grace was  certain.  His  head  swam,  he  remained  im- 
moveable for  an  instant,  and  then  recovered  himself ; 
but  the  blow  he  had  received  had  not  been  unobserved 
by  the  courtiers,  and  the  cardinal's  fall  became  the 
general  topic  of  conversation. 

After  dinner  the  legates  departed,  and  on  the  second 
day  reached  Moor  Park,  a  mansion  built  by  Arch- 
bishop Neville,  one  of  Wolsey's  predecessors,  who,  for 
high  treason,  had  been  first  imprisoned  at  Calais,  and 
afterwards  at  Ham.  These  recollections  were  by  no 
means  agreeable  to  Wolsey.  The  next  morning  the 
two  cardinals  separated,  Campeggio  proceeded  to  Dover, 
and  Wolsey  to  London. 

Campeggio  was  impatient  to  get  out  of  England  ; 
and  great  was  his  annoyance,  on  reaching  Dover,  to 
find  that  the  wind  was  contrary.     But  a  still  greater 


CAMPEGGIO  SEARCHED  AT  DOVER. 


709 


vexation  was  in  reserve.  lie  had  hardly  lain  down  to 
rest  himself,  before  his  door  was  opened,  and  a  band 
of  sergeants  entered  the  room.  The  cardinal,  who 
knew  what  scenes  of  this  kind  meant  in  Italy,  thonght 
he  was  a  dead  man,  and  fell  trembling  at  his  chap- 
lain's feet  bogging  for  absolution.  Meantime  the 
olFicers  opened  his  Inggage,  broke  into  his  chests, 
scattered  his  property  abont  the  lloor,  and  even  shook 
ont  his  clothes. 

Henry's  tranqnility  had  not  been  of  long  dnration. 
"  Campeggio  is  tlie  bearer  of  letters  from  Wolsey  to 
Rome,"  whispered  some  of  the  courtiers;  "who  knows 
but  they  contain  treasonable  matter?"  "There  is,  too, 
among  his  papers,  the  famous  clccrctnl  pronoinicing  the 
divorce,"  said  one ;  "  if  we  had  but  that  document  it 
would  finish  the  business."  Another  alhrmed  tliat 
Campeggio  "  had  large  treasure  with  him  of  my  lord's 
(Wolsey's)  to  be  conveyed  in  great  tuns  to  Rome," 
whither  it  was  surmised  tlic  Cardinal  of  York  would 
esoa])e  to  enjoy  the  fruits  of  his  treason.  "  It  is  cer- 
tain," added  a  third,  '•  that  Campeggio,  assisted  by 
Wolsey,  has  been  able  to  procure  your  majesty's  cor- 
respondence with  Anne  Boleyn,  and  is  carrying  it 
away  with  him."  Henry,  therefore,  sent  a  messenger 
after  the  nuncio,  with  orders  that  his  baggage  should 
bo  thoroughly  searched. 

Nothing  was  found,  neither  letters,  nor  bull,  nor 
treasures.  The  bull  had  been  destroyed ;  the  treasures 
Wolsey  had  never  thought  of  intrusting  to  his  colleague ; 
and  the  letters  of  Anne  and  Henry,  Campeggio  had 
sent  on  before  by  his  son  Rodolph,  and  the  pope  was 
stretching  out  his  hands  to  receive  them,  proud,  like 
his  successors,  of  the  robbery  committed  by  two  of 
his  legates. 

Campeggio  being  reassured,  and  seeing  that  ho  was 
neither  to  bo  killed  nor  robbed,  made  a  great  noise 
at  this  act  of  violence,  and  at  the  insulting  remarks 
which  had  given  rise  to  it.  "  I  will  not  leave  Eng- 
land," he  caused  Henry  to  be  informed,  "  until  I  have 
received  satisfaction."  "  My  lord  forgets  that  he  is 
legate  no  longer,"  replied  tlie  king,  "  since  the  pope 
has  withdrawn  his  power ;  he  forgets,  besides,  that,  as 
Bishop  of  Salisbur}',  he  is  my  subject ;  as  for  the 
remarks  against  him  and  the  Cardinal  of  York,  it  is  a 
liberty  the  people  of  England  arc  accustomed  to  take, 
and  which  I  cannot  put  down."  Campeggio,  anxious 
to  reach  France,  was  satisfied  with  these  reasons,  and 
soon  forgot  all  his  sorrows  at  the  sumptuous  table  of 
Cardinal  Duprat. 

Wolsey  was  not  so  fortunate.  Ho  had  seen  Cam- 
peggio go  away,  and  remained  like  a  wrecked  seaman 
thrown  on  a  desert  isle,  who  has  seen  depart  the  only 
friends  capable  of  giving  him  any  help.  His  necro- 
mancy had  forewarned  him  that  this  would  be  a  fatal 
year.  The  angel  of  the  maid  of  Kent  had  said :  "  Go 
to  the  cardinal  and  announce  his  fall,  because  he  has 
not  done  what  you  had  commanded  him  to  do."  Other 
voices  besides  hers  made  themselves  heard :  the  hatred 
of  the  nation,  the  contempt  of  Europe,  and,  above  all, 
Henry's  anger,  told  him  that  his  hour  was  come.  It 
was  true  the  pope  said,  that  he  would  do  all  in  his 
power  to  save  him ;  but  Clement's  good  offices  would 
only  accelerate  his  ruin.  Du  Bellay,  whom  the  people 
believed  to  be  the  cardinal's  accomplice,  bore  witness 


to  the  change  that  had  taken  place  in  men's  minds. 
While  parsing  on  foot  through  the  streets  of  the  capital, 
followed  by  two  valets,  "  his  oars  were  so  fdled  with 
coarse  jests  as  he  wont  along,"  ho  said,  "  that  he  knew 
not  which  way  to  turn."  "  The  cardinal  is  utterly 
undone,"  he  wrote;  "and  I  see  not  how  he  can  escape." 
The  idea  occurred  to  Wolsey,  from  time  to  time,  to 
pronounce  the  divorce  himself ;  but  it  was  too  late. 
"  He  was  even  told  that  his  life  was  in  danger.  For- 
tune, blind  and  bald,  her  foot  on  the  wheel,  tied  rapidly 
from  him ;  nor  was  it  in  his  power  to  stop  her.  And 
this  was  not  all :  after  him  (ho  thought)  there  was  no 
one  who  coidd  uphold  tlie  church  of  the  pontiffs  in 
England.  The  ship  of  Rome  was  sailing  on  a  stormy 
sea  among  rocks  and  shoals ;  Wolsey  at  the  helm 
looked  in  vain  for  a  port  of  refuge ;  the  vessel  leaked 
on  every  side ;  it  was  rapidly  sinking,  and  the  cardinal 
uttered  a  cry  of  distress.  Alas!  ho  had  dcsii-cd  to 
save  Rome,  but  Rome  would  not  have  it  so. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


A  Meeting  at  Waltham  -Toiith  of  Thomas  Craniner— His  early  1 

Studies  Scripture  for  Three  Years— His  functions  as  Examiner— The 
Supper  at  Waltham— New  View  of  the  Divorce— Foxe  Communicates  it 
to  Henry— Cranmcr's  Vexation— Conrcrcnce  wiUi  the  King— Cranmer 


As  Wolsey 's  star  was  disappearing  in  the  West,  in  the 
midst  of  stonny  clouds,  another  was  rising  in  the  East, 
to  point  out  the  way  to  save  Britain.  Men,  like  stars, 
appear  on  the  horizon  at  the  command  of  God. 

On  his  return  from  Woodstock  to  Greenwich,  Henry 
stopped,  full  of  anxiety,  at  Waltham  in  Essex.  His 
attendants  were  lodged  in  the  houses  of  the  neighbour- 
hood. Foxe,  the  almoner,  and  Secretary  Gardiner, 
were  quartered  on  a  gentleman  named  Cressy,  at  Wal- 
tham Abbey.  When  supper  was  announced,  Gardiner 
and  Foxe  were  surprised  to  see  an  old  friend  enter  the 
room.  It  was  Thomas  Cranmer,  a  Cambridge  doctor. 
"  AVhat !  is  it  you  ?  "  they  said ;  "  and  how  came  you 
here?" — "Our  host's  wife  is  my  relation,"  replied 
Cranmer ;  "  and  as  the  epidemic  is  raging  at  Cam- 
bridge, I  brought  homo  my  friend's  sons,  who  are  under 
my  care."  As  this  now  personage  is  destined  to  play 
an  important  part  in  the  history  of  the  Reformation,  it 
may  be  worth  our  while  to  interrupt  our  narrative,  and 
give  a  particular  account  of  him. 

Cranmer  was  descended  from  an  ancient  family, 
which  came  into  England,  as  is  generally  believed,  with 
the  Conqueror.  He  was  born  at  Aslacton  in  Notting- 
hamshire, on  the  2d  of  Julj',  1489,  six  years  after 
Luther.  His  early  education  had  been  very  much 
neglected ;  his  tutor,  an  ignorant  and  severe  priest, 
had  taught  him  little  else  than  patiently  to  endure 
severe  chastisement — a  knowledge  destined  to  be  very 
useful  to  him  in  after-life.  His  father  was  an  honest 
country  gentleman,  who  cared  for  little  besides  hunting, 
racing,  and  military  sports.  At  this  school  the  son 
learnt  to  ride,  to  handle  the  bow  and  the  sword,  to 
fish  and  to  hawk;  and  he  never  entirely  neglected 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


these  exercises,  -wiuch  he  thought  essential  to  his 
health.  Thomas  Cranmer  was  fond  of  walking,  of  the 
charms  of  nature,  and  of  solitary  meditations ;  and  a 
hill,  near  his  father's  mansion,  used  often  to  be  shewn 
where  he  was  wont  to  sit,  gazing  on  the  fertile  country 
at  his  feet,  fixing  his  eyes  on  the  distant  spires,  listening 
with  melancholy  pleasui-c  to  the  chime  of  the  bells,  and 
indulging  in  sweet  contemplations.  About  1504,  he 
was  sent  to  Cambridge,  where  "  barbarism  still  pre- 
vailed," says  an  historian.  His  plain,  noble,  and  mo- 
dest air,  conciliated  the  affections  of  many,  and,  in 
1510,  he  was  elected  fellow  of  Jesus  College.  Possess- 
ing a  tender  heart,  he  became  attached,  at  the  age  of 
twenty-three,  to  a  young  person  of  good  bii-th,  (says 
Foxe,)  or  of  inferior  rank,  as  other  writers  assert. 
Cranmer  was  unwilling  to  imitate  the  disorderly  lives 
of  his  fellow-students ;  and  although  marriage  would 
necessarily  close  the  career  of  honours,  he  married  the 
young  lady,  resigned  his  fellowship,  (in  conformity 
with  the  regulations,)  and  took  a  modest  lodging  at  the 
Dolphin.  He  then  began  to  study  earnestly  the  most 
remarkable  writings  of  the  times,  polishing,  it  has  been 
said,  his  old  asperity  on  the  productions  of  Erasmus, 
of  Lefevre,  of  Etaples,  and  other  great  authors ;  every 
day  his  crude  understanding  received  new  brilliancy. 
He  then  began  to  teach  in  Buckingham  (afterwards 
Magdalene)  College,  and  thus  provided  for  his  wants. 

His  lessons  excited  the  admiration  of  enlightened 
men,  and  the  anger  of  obscure  ones,  who  disdainfully 
called  him  (because  of  the  inn  at  which  he  lodged)  the 
hostler.  "  Tliis  name  became  him  well,"  said  Fuller, 
"  for  in  his  lessons  he  roughly  rubbed  the  backs  of  the 
friars,  and  famously  curried  the  hides  of  the  lazy 
]iriests."  His  wife  dying  a  year  after  his  marriage, 
'  'ranmer  was  re-elected  fellow  of  his  old  college  ;  and 
the  first  writing  of  Luther's  having  appeared,  he  said: 
"  I  must  know  on  which  side  the  truth  lies.  There  is 
only  one  infallible  source,  the  Scriptures ;  in  them  I 
will  seek  for  God's  truth."  And  for  three  years  lie 
constantly  studied  the  holy  books,  without  commentary, 
without  human  theology,  and  hence  he  gained  the  name 
of  the  Scnptnrist.  At  last  his  eyes  were  opened ;  he 
saw  the  mysterious  bond  which  unites  all  Biblical 
revelations,  and  imderstood  the  completeness  of  God's 
design.  Then,  without  forsaking  the  Scriptures,  he 
studied  all  kinds  of  authors.  He  was  a  slow  reader, 
but  a  close  observer ;  he  never  opened  a  book  without 
having  a  pen  in  his  hand.  He  did  not  take  up  with 
any  particular  party  or  age ;  but,  possessing  a  free  and 
philosophic  mind,  he  weighed  all  opinions  in  the 
balance  of  his  judgment,  taking  the  Bible  for  his 
standard. 

Honours  soon  came  upon  him ;  he  was  made  sueces- 
jiively  doctor  of  divinity,  professor,  university  preacher, 
and  examiner.  He  used  to  say  to  the  candidates  for 
the  ministry:  "Christ  sendeth  His  heai-ers  to  the  Scrip- 
tures, and  not  to  the  church." — "  But,"  replied  the 
monks,  "  they  are  so  difficult." — "  Explain  the  obscure 
passages  by  those  which  are  clear,"  rejoined  the  pro- 
fessor, "  Scripture  by  Scripture.  Seek,  pray,  and  He 
who  has  the  key  of  David  will  open  them  to  you."  The 
monks,  affrighted  at  this  task,  withdrew,  bursting  with 
anger ;  and  ere  long  Cranmer's  name  was  a  name  of 
dread  in  every  convent.     Some,  however,  submitted  to 


the  labour ;  and  one  of  them,  Doctor  Barrett,  blessed 
God  that  the  examiner  had  turned  him  back;  ''for," 
said  he,  "  I  found  the  knowledge  of  God  in  the  holy 
book  he  compelled  me  to  study."  Cranmer  toiled  at 
the  same  work  as  Latimer,  Stafford,  and  Bilney. 

Foxe  and  Gardiner  having  renewed  acquaintance 
with  their  old  friend  at  Waltham  Abbej',  they  sat 
down  to  table,  and  both  the  almoner  and  the  secretary 
asked  the  doctor  what  lie  thought  of  the  divorce.  It 
was  the  usual  topic  of  conversation ;  and  not  long 
before,  Cranmer  had  been  named  member  of  a  com- 
mission appointed  to  give  their  opinion  on  this  affair. 
"  You  are  not  in  the  right  path,"  said  Cranmer  to  his 
friends  ;  "  you  should  not  cling  to  the  decisions  of  the 
church.  There  is  a  surer  and  a  shorter  way  wliich 
alone  can  give  peace  to  the  king's  conscience." — "  Wliat 
is  that?"  they  both  asked.  "The  true  question  is  this," 
replied  Cranmer:  "  What  sa>/s  the  Word  of  God?  If 
God  has  declared  a  marriage  of  this  nature  bad,  the 
pope  cannot  make  it  good.  Discontinue  these  inter- 
minable Roman  negotiations.  When  God  has  spoken, 
man  must  obey." — "But  how  shall  we  know  what  God 
has  said?" — "Consult  the  universities  ;  they  wll  dis- 
cern it  more  surely  than  Rome." 

This  was  a  new  view.  The  idea  of  consulting  the 
universities  had  been  acted  upon  before;  but  then  their 
own  opinions  only  had  been  demanded ;  now,  the  ques- 
tion was  simply  to  know  what  God  saijs  in  His  Word. 
"The  Word  of  God  is  above  the  church,"  was  the  prin- 
ciple laid  down  by  Cranmer,  and  in  that  principle 
consisted  the  whole  of  the  Reformation.  The  conver- 
sation at  the  supper-table  of  Waltham  was  destined  to 
be  one  of  those  secret  springs  which  an  invisible  Hand 
sets  in  motion  for  the  accomplishment  of  His  great 
designs.  The  Cambridge  doctor,  suddenly  transported 
from  his  study  to  the  foot  of  the  throne,  was  on  the 
point  of  becoming  one  of  the  principle  instruments  of 
Divine  wisdom. 

The  day  after  this  conversation,  Foxe  and  Gardiner 
arrived  at  Greenwich,  and  the  king  summoned  them 
into  his  presence  the  same  evening.  "  Well,  gentlemen," 
he  said  to  them,  "our  holidays  are  over;  what  shall 
we  do  now  ?  If  we  still  have  recourse  to  Rome,  God 
knows  when  we  shall  see  the  end  of  this  matter." — 
"It  will  not  be  necessary  to  take  so  long  a  journey," 
said  Foxe;  "we  know  a  shorter  and  surer  way."— 
"  What  is  it  ? "  asked  the  king  eagerly. — "  Doctor 
Cranmer,  whom  we  met  yesterday  at  Waltham,  thinks 
tliat  the  Bible  should  be  the  sole  judge  in  your  cause." 
Gardiner,  vexed  at  his  colleague's  frankness,  desired  to 
claim  all  the  honour  of  this  luminous  idea  for  himself; 
but  Heniy  did  not  listen  to  him.  "Where  is  Doctor 
Cranmer?"  said  he,  much  affected.  "Send,  and  fetch 
him  immediately.  Mother  of  God!  (this  was  his  cus- 
tomary oath,)  this  man  has  the  right  sow  by  the  ear. 
If  this  had  only  been  suggested  to  me  two  years  ago, 
what  expense  and  trouble  I  should  have  beeu  spared !" 

Cranmer  had  gone  into  Nottinghamshire ;  a  mes- 
senger followed  and  brought  him  back.  "  Why  have 
you  entangled  me  in  this  affair?"  he  said  to  Foxe  and 
Gardiner.  "Pray  make  my  excuses  to  the  king." 
Gardiner,  who  wished  for  nothing  better,  promised  to 
do  all  he  could ;  but  it  was  of  no  use.  "  I  will  have 
no    excuses,"   said    Henry.     The  wily   courtier   was 


CKANMER'S  INTERVIEW  WITH  HENRY. 


obliged  to  make  up  his  mind  to  introduce  tlic  inj;omious 
and  upright  man,  to  whom  that  station,  which  he  him- 
self had  so  coveted,  was  one  day  to  belong.  Cranmer 
and  Gardiner  went  down  to  Greenwich,  both  alike 
dissatisfied. 

Cranracr  was  tlicn  forty  years  of  age,  with  pleasing 
features,  and  mild  and  winning  eyes,  in  which  the 
candour  of  his  sold  seemed  to  be  reflected.  Sensible 
to  the  pain.s  as  well  as  to  the  pleasures  of  the  heart,  he 
was  destined  to  be  more  exposed  than  other  men  to 
anxieties  and  falls;  a  peaceful  life  in  some  remote 
parsonage  would  have  been  more  to  liis  taste  than  the 
court  of  Henry  VIII.  Blessed  with  a  generous  mind, 
imhappily  he  did  not  possess  the  firmness  necessary 
in  a  public  man ;  a  little  stone  sufficed  to  make  him 
stumble.  His  excellent  imderstanding  shewed  him  the 
better  way;  but  his  great  timidity  made  him  fear  the 
more  dangerous.  He  was  rather  too  fond  of  rclj'ing 
upon  the  power  of  men,  and  made  them  unliappy  con- 
cessions with  too  great  facility.  If  the  king  had 
questioned  him,  he  would  never  have  dared  advise  so 
bold  a  course  as  that  he  had  pointed  out ;  the  advice 
had  slipped  from  him  at  table  during  the  intimacy  of 
familiar  conversation.  Yet  he  was  sincere,  and,  after 
doing  everything  to  escape  from  the  consequences  of 
his  frankness,  he  was  ready  to  maintain  the  opinion  he 
had  given. 

Henry,  perceiving  Cranmer's  timidity,  graciously 
approached  him.  "VThat  is  your  name,"  said  the 
king,  endeavouring  to  put  him  at  his  ease?  "Did  you 
not  meet  my  secretary  and  my  almoner  at  Waltham?" 
And  then  he  added :  "  Did  you  not  speak  to  them  of 
my  great  affair?" — repeating  the  words  ascribed  to 
Cranmer.  The  latter  could  not  retreat:  "Sir,  it  is 
true,  I  did  say  so." — "I  see,"  replied  the  king  with 
animation,  "  that  you  have  found  the  breach  through 
which  we  must  storm  the  fortress.  Now,  Sir  doctor, 
I  beg  you,  and  as  you  are  my  subject,  I  command  you, 
to  lay  aside  eveiy  other  occupation,  and  to  bring  my 
cause  to  a  conclusion,  in  conformity  with  the  ideas  you 
have  put  forth.  All  that  I  desire  to  know  is,  whether 
my  marriage  is  contrary  to  the  laws  of  God  or  not. 
Employ  all  yom*  skill  in  investigating  the  subject,  and 
thus  bring  comfort  to  my  conscience  as  well  as  to  the 
queen's." 

Cranmer  was  confounded ;  he  recoiled  from  the  idea 
of  deciding  an  affair  on  which  depended,  it  might  be, 
the  destinies  of  the  nation,  and  sighed  after  the  lonely 
fields  of  Aslactou.  But,  grasped  by  the  vigorous  hand 
of  Henry,  he  was  compelled  to  advance.  "  Sir,"  said 
he,  "  pray  intrust  this  matter  to  doctors  more  learned 
than  I  am."  "I  am  very  willing,"  .answered  the  king; 
"  but  I  desire  that  you  will  also  give  me  your  opinion 
in  writing.  And  then  summoning  the  Earl  of  AVilt- 
shire  to  his  presence,  he  said  to  him:  "My  lord,  you  will 
receive  Doctor  Cranmer  into  your  house  at  Durham 
Place,  and  let  him  have  all  necessary  quiet  to  compose 
a  report  for  which  I  have  asked  him."  After  this 
precise  command,  which  admitted  of  no  refusal,  Heniy 
withdrew. 

In  this  manner  was  Cranmer  introduced  by  the  king 
to  Anne  Boleyn's  father,  and  not,  as  some  Romanist 
authors  have  asserted,  by  Sir  Thomas  Boleyn  to  the 
king.    Wiltshire  conducted  Cranmer  to  Durham  House, 


(now  the  Adelphi,  in  the  Strand,)  and  the  pious  doctor 
on  whom  Henry  had  imposed  these  quarters,  soon  con- 
tr.acted  a  close  friendship  with  Anne  and  her  father, 
and  took  advantage  of  it  to  teach  them  the  value  of 
the  Divine  Word,  as  the  pearl  of  great  price.  Henry, 
while  profiting  by  the  address  of  a  Wolsey  and  a  Gar- 
diner, paid  little  regard  to  the  men;  but  he  respected 
Cranmer,  even  when  opposed  to  him  in  opinion ;  and, 
until  his  death,  placed  the  learned  doctor  above  all  hia 
courtiers  and  all  liis  clerks.  The  pious  man  often 
succeeds  better,  even  with  the  great  ones  of  this  world, 
than  the  ambitious  and  the  intriguing. 


CHAPTER  Xm. 

■WoIscy  in  tho  Court  ot  Chancery— Accused  by  the  Dukes— Defuses  tn  give 
up  the  Great  Seal — His  Despair- He  gives  up  the  Seal— Order  to  Depart 
—His  Inventory— Alami— The  Scene  of  Departure— Favourable  Message 
from  the  King— Wolsey's  Joy — His  Fool — Arrival  at  Esher. 

While  Cranmer  was  rising  notwithstanding  his  hu- 
mility, Wolsey  was  falling  in  despite  of  his  stratagems. 
The  cardinal  still  governed  the  kingdom,  gave  instruc- 
tions to  ambassadors,  negotiated  with  princes,  and  filled 
his  sumptuous  palaces  with  his  haughtiiicss.  The  king 
could  not  make  up  his  mind  to  turn  him  off;  the  force 
of  habit,  the  need  he  had  of  him,  the  recollection  of 
the  services  Henry  had  received  from  him,  pleaded  in 
his  favour.  AVolscy  without  the  seals  appeared  almost 
as  inconceivable  as  the  king  without  his  crown.  Yet 
the  fall  of  one  of  the  most  powerful  favourites  recorded 
in  history  was  inevitably  approaching,  and  we  must 
now  describe  it. 

On  the  9th  of  October,  after  the  Michaelmas  vaca- 
tion, AVolsey,  desirous  of  shewing  a  bold  face,  went  and 
opened  the  high  court  of  chancery  with  his  accustomed 
pomp ;  but  he  noticed,  with  nncfisincss,  that  none  of 
the  king's  servants  walked  before  him,  as  they  had 
been  accustomed  to  do.  He  presided  on  the  bench 
with  an  inexpressible  depression  of  spirits,  and  the 
various  members  of  the  court  sat  before  him  with  an 
absent  air;  there  was  something  gloomy  and  solemn  in 
this  sitting,  as  if  all  were  taking  part  in  a  funeral ;  it 
was  destined,  indeed,  to  be  the  last  act  of  tlie  cardinal's 
power.  Some  days  before,  (Eoxe  s.iys  on  the  1st  of 
October,)  the  dukes  of  Norfolk  and  Suffolk,  with  other 
lords  of  the  jirivy-council,  had  gone  down  to  Windsor, 
and  denounced  to  the  king  Wolsey's  unconstitutional 
relations  with  the  pope,  his  usurpations,  "his  robberies, 
and  the  discords  sown  by  his  means  between  Christian 
princes."  Such  motives  would  not  have  sufficed ;  but 
Hcniy  had  stronger.  Wolsey  had  not  kept  any  of  his 
promises  in  the  matter  of  the  divorce ;  it  would  even 
appear  tliat  he  had  advised  the  jiope  to  excommunicate 
the  king,  and  thus  raise  his  peo])lc  against  him.  This 
enormity  was  not  at  that  time  known  by  the  prince; 
it  is  even  probable  that  it  did  not  take  place  until  later. 
But  Henry  knew  enough,  and  he  gave  his  attorney- 
general,  Sii-  Chi-istopher  Hales,  orders  to  prosecute 
Wolsey. 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFOEMATION. 


Whilst  the  heart-broken  cardinal  was  displaying  his 
authority  for  the  last  time  in  the  conrt  of  chancery,  the 
attorney-general  was  accusing  him  in  the  King's  Bench 
for  having  obtained  papal  bulls  conferring  on  him  a 
jurisdiction  which  encroached  on  the  royal  power;  and 
calling  for  the  application  of  the  penalties  oi  jircemunii-e. 
The  two  dukes  received  orders  to  demand  the  seals 
from  "Wolsey;  and  the  latter,  informed  of  what  had 
tr.kcn  place,  did  not  quit  his  palace  on  the  10th,  ex- 
pecting every  moment  the  arrival  of  the  messengers  of 
the  king's  anger;  but  no  one  appeared. 

The  next  day  the  two  dukes  arrived:  "It  is  the 
king's  good  pleasure,"  said  they  to  the  cardinal,  who 
remained  seated  in  his  arm-chair,  "  that  you  give  up 
the  broad  seal  to  us  and  retire  to  Esher,"  (a  country- 
seat  near  Hampton  Court.)  AVolsey,  whose  presence 
of  mind  never  failed  him,  demanded  to  see  the  com- 
mission under  which  they  were  acting.  "We  have  our 
orders  from  his  majesty's  mouth,"  said  they. — "That 
may  be  sufficient  for  you,"  replied  the  cardinal,  "  but 
not  for  me.  The  great  seal  of  England  was  delivered 
to  me  by  the  hands  of  my  sovereign ;  I  may  not  deliver 
it  at  the  simple  word  of  any  lord,  unless  you  can  shew 
me  your  commission."  Suffolk  broke  out  into  a  passion, 
but  Wolsey  remained  calm,  and  the  two  dukes  returned 
to  Windsor.     This  was  the  cardinal's  last  triumph. 


c  R  A  N  M  E  n. 

The  rumour  of  his  disgrace  created  an  immense 
sensation  at  court,  in  the  city,  and  among  the  foreign 
ambassadors.  Du  Bcllay  hastened  to  "York  Place 
(Whitehall)  to  contemplate  this  great  ruin,  and  console 
his  unhappy  friend.  He  found  Wolsey,  with  dejected 
countenance  and  lustreless  eyes,  "shrunk  to  half  his 
wonted  size,"  wrote  the  ambassador  to  Montmorency; 
"  the  greatest  example  of  fortune  which  was  ever  be- 
held."^ Wolsey  desired  "  to  set  forth  his  case  "  to  him  ; 
but  his  thoughts  were  confused,  his  language  broken, 
"for  heart  and  tongue  both  failed  him  entirely;"  he 


bm-st  into  tears.  The  ambassador  regarded  him  with 
compassion  :  "Alas!"  thought  he,  "his  enemies  cannot 
but  feel  pity  for  him."  At  last  the  unhappy  cardinal 
recovered  his  speech,  but  only  to  give  way  to  despair. 
"  I  desire  no  more  authority,"  he  exclaimed,  "  nor  the 
pope's  legation,  nor  the  broad  seal  of  England.  .  .  . 
I  am  ready  to  give  up  everything,  even  to  my  shirt. 
.  .  .  .  I  can  live  in  a  hermitage,  provided  the 
king  does  not  hold  me  in  disgrace."  The  ambassador 
"did  all  he  could  to  comfort  him,"  when  Wolsey, 
catching  at  the  plank  thrown  out  to  him,  exclaimed : 
"  Would  that  the  King  of  France  and  madame  might 
pray  the  king  to  moderate  his  anger  against  me.  But, 
above  all,"  he  added  in  alarm,  "  take  care  the  king 
never  knows  that  I  have  solicited  this  of  you."  Du 
Bellay  wrote  indeed  to  France,  that  the  king  and 
madame  alone  could  "  withdraw  their  affectionate 
servant  from  the  gates  of  hell;"  and  Wolsey  being 
informed  of  these  despatches,  his  hopes  recovered  a 
little.     But  this  bright  gleam  did  not  last  long. 

On  Sunday,  the  17th  of  October,  Norfolk  and  Suffolk 
re-appeared  at  Whitehall,  accompanied  by  Fitzwilliam, 
Taylor,  and  Gardiner,  Wolsey's  former  dependant.  It 
was  six  in  the  evening ;  they  found  the  cardinal  in  an 
upper  chamber,  near  the  great  gallery,  and  presented 
the  king's  orders  to  liim.  Having  read  them,  he  said : 
"  I  am  happy  to  obey  his  majesty's  commands ;"  then 
having  ordered  the  great  seal  to  be  brought  him,  he 
took  it  out  of  the  white  leather  case  in  which  he  kept 
it,  and  handed  it  to  the  dukes,  who  placed  it  in  a  box, 
covered  with  crimson  velvet,  and  ornamented  with  the 
arms  of  England,  ordered  Gardiner  to  seal  it  up  with 
red  wax,  and  gave  it  to  Taylor  to  convey  to  the  king. 


Wolsey  was  thunderstruck;  he  was  to  drink  the 
bitter  cup  even  to  the  dregs  :  he  was  ordered  to  leave 
his  palace  forthwith,  taking  with  him  neither  clothes, 
linen,  nor  plate ;  the  dukes  had  feared  that  he  would 
convey  away  his  treasures.  Wolsey  comprehended  the 
greatness  of  his  misery;  he  found  strength,  however,  to 
say:  "Since  it  is  the  king's  good  pleasure  to  take  my 
house  and  all  it  contains,  I  am  content  to  retire  to 
Esher."     The  dukes  left  him. 

Wolsey  remained  alone.  This  astonishing  man,  who 
had  risen  from  a  butcher's  shop  to   the   summit  of 


WOLSEY  LEAVES  WHITEHALL 


earthly  greatness, — who,  for  a  word  that  displeased 
him,  sent  his  master's  most  faithful  servants  (Pace,  for 
instance)  to  the  Tower — and  wlio  had  governed  Eng- 
land as  if  he  had  been  its  monarch,  and  even  more,  for 
he  had  governed  without  a  parliament, — was  driven 
out,  and  thrown,  as  it  were,  upon  a  dunghill.  A  sudden 
hope  flashed  Hive  lightning  through  his  mind;  perhaps 
the  magnificence  of  the  spoils  would  appease  Ilcni^ 
AVas  not  Esau  pacified  by  Jacob's  present?  "WoKtj 
summoned  his  otlicers :  "Set  tables  in  the  frcat  gil- 
lery,"  he  said  to  them,  "and  place  on  them  all  I  IniM. 
intrusted  to  your  care,  in  order  to  rendei  me  an 
account."  Tliese  orders  were  executed  immcdi  itch 
The  tables  were  covered  with  an  immense  quantilj  of 
rich  stuffs,  silks  and  velvets  of  all  colours,  cc-tlj  tui  , 
rich  copes,  and  other  ecclesiastical  vestures ;  the  -w  ills 
were  hung  with  cloth  of  gold  and  silver,  and  -(M-b^  ot 
a  valuable  stuff  named  baudykin,  from  the  loom-)  of 
Damascus,  and  with  tapestry,  representing  i  criptui  il 
subjects  or  stories  from  the  ohl  romances  of  chivalry. 
The  gilt  chamber  and  the  council  chamber,  adjoining 
the  gallery,  were  both  filled  with  plate,  in  which  the 
gold  and  silver  were  set  with  pearls  and  precious  stones: 
those  articles  of  luxury  were  so  abundant,  that  basket- 
fuls  of  costly  plate,  which  had  fallen  out  of  fashion, 
were  stowed  away  under  the  tables.  On  every  table 
was  an  exact  list  of  the  treasures  with  which  it  was 
loaded,  for  the  most  perfect  order  and  regularity 
prevailed  in  the  cardinal's  household.  Wolsey  cast  a 
glance  of  hope  upon  this  wealth,  and  ordered  his 
officers  to  deliver  the  whole  to  his  majesty. 

He  then  prepared  to  leave  his  magnificent  palace. 
That  moment,  of  itself  so  sad,  was  made  sadder  still  by 
an  act  of  affectionate  indiscretion.  "Ah,  my  lord," 
said  his  treasurer,  Sii"  William  Gascoigue,  moved  even 
to  tears,  "your  grace  will  be  sent  to  the  Tower."  This 
was  too  much  for  AVolsey :  to  go  and  join  his  victims ! 
.  .  .  .  Ho  grew  angry,  and  exclaimed :  "  Is  this 
the  best  comfort  you  can  give  your  master  in  adversity? 
I  would  have  you  and  all  such  blasphemous  reporters 
know  that  it  is  untrue." 

It  was  necessary  to  depart ;  he  put  round  his  neck  a 
chain  of  gold,  from  which  hung  a  pretended  relic  of 
the  true  cross ;  this  was  all  he  took.  "  Would  to  God," 
he  exclaimed,  as  he  placed  it  on,  "  that  I  had  never 
had  any  other."  This  he  said,  alluding  to  the  legate's 
cross,  which  used  to  be  carried  before  him  with  so  much 
pomp.  He  descended  the  back  stairs,  followed  by  his 
servants,  some  silent  and  dejected,  others  weeping 
bitterly,  and  proceeded  to  the  river's  brink,  where  a 
barge  awaited  him.  But,  alas !  it  was  not  alone.  The 
Thames  was  covered  with  innumerable  boats  full  of 
men  and  women.  The  inhabitants  of  Loudon,  expecting 
to  see  the  cardinal  led  to  the  Tower,  desired  to  be 
present  at  his  humiliation,  and  prepared  to  accompany 
him.  Cries  of  joy  hailing  his  fall  were  heard  from 
every  side ;  nor  were  the  crudest  sarcasms  wanting. 
"  Tlie  butcher's  dog  will  bite  no  more,"  said  some ; 
"look  how  he  hangs  his  head."  In  truth,  the  unhappy 
man,  distressed  by  a  sight  so  new  to  him,  lowered  those 
eyes  wliich  were  once  so  proud,  but  now  were  filled 
with  bitter  tears.  This  man,  who  had  made  all 
England  tremble,  was  then  like  a  withered  leaf  carried 
along  the  stream.     All  his  servants  were  moved ;  even 


his  fool,  William  Patch,  sobbed  like  the  rest.  "Oh! 
wavering  and  newfangled  multitude,"  exclaimed  Caven- 
dish, his  gentleman  usher.  The  liopes  of  the  citizens 
were  disappointed  ;  tlio  barge,  instead  of  descending 
the  river,  proceeded  upwards  in  the  direction  of  Hamp- 
ton Court;  gradually  the  shouts  died  away,  and  the 
flotilla  dispersed. 


WOLSEY'S    HALL,    HAMPTON    COURT. 

The  silence  of  the  river  permitted  Wolscy  to  indulge 
in  less  bitter  thoughts;  but  it  seemed  as  if  invisible 
furies  were  pursuing  him,  now  that  the  people  had  left 
him.  He  left  his  barge  at  Putney,  and  mounting  his 
mule,  though  with  difficulty,  proceeded  slowly,  with 
downcast  looks.  Shortly  after,  upon  lifting  his  eyes, 
he  saw  a  horseman  riding  rapidly  down  the  hill  towards 
them.  "  Whom  do  you  think  h  can  be  ?  "  he  asked  of 
his  attendants.  "  My  lord,"  replied  one  of  them,  "  I 
think  it  is  Sir  Henry  Norris."  A  flash  of  joy  passed 
through  Wolsey's  heart.  "Was  it  not  Norris,  who,  of 
all  the  king's  officers,  had  shewn  him  the  most  respect 
during  his  visit  to  Grafton?  Norris  came  up  witii 
them,  saluted  him  respectfully,  and  said :  "  The  king 
bids  me  declare  that  he  still  entertains  the  same  kindly 
feelings  towards  you,  and  sends  you  this  ring  as  a  token 
of  his  confidence."  Wolsey  received  it  with  a  trembling 
hand :  it  was  that  which  the  king  was  in  the  habit  of 
sending  on  important  occasions.  The  cardinal  imme- 
diately alighted  from  his  mule,  and  kneeling  down  in 
the  road,  raised  his  hands  to  heaven  with  an  indescrib- 


HISTORY  OF  THE  EEFOEMATION. 


able  expression  of  happiness.  The  fallen  man  would 
have  pulled  off  his  velvet  uuder-cap,  but  unable  to 
undo  the  strings,  he  broke  them,  and  threw  it  on  the 
tjround.  He  remained  on  his  knees  bareheaded,  praying 
fervently  amidst  profound  silence.  God's  forgiveness 
liad  never  caused  Wolsey  so  much  pleasure  as  Henry's. 

Having  finished  his  prayer,  the  cardinal  put  on  his 
cap,  and  remounted  his  mnle.  "  Gentle  Norris,"  said 
he  to  the  king's  messenger,  "if  I  were  lord  of  a  king- 
dom, the  half  of  it  would  scarcely  be  enough  to  reward 
you  for  your  happy  tidings ;  but  I  have  nothing  left 
except  'the  clothes  on  my  back."  Then  taking  off  his 
gold  chain  :  "  Take  this,"  he  said,  "  it  contains  a  piece 
of  the  true  cross.  In  my  happier  days  I  would  not 
have  parted  with  it  for  a  thousand  pounds."  The  car- 
dinal and  Norris  separated ;  but  'Wolsey  soon  stopped, 
and  the  whole  troop  halted  on  the  heath.  The  thought 
troubled  him  greatly  that  ho  had  nothing  to  send  to  the 
king ;  he  called  Norris  back,  and  looking  round  him, 
saw,  mounted  on  a  sorry  horse,  poor  William  Patch, 
who  had  lost  all  his  gaiety  since  his  master's  misfortune. 
"  Present  this  poor  jester  to  the  king  from  me,"  said 
Wolsey  to  Norris ;  "  his  buffooneries  are  a  pleasure  fit 
for  a  prince ;  he  is  worth  a  thousand  jjounds."  Patch, 
offended  at  being  treated  thus,  burst  into  a  violent 
passion,  his  eyes  flashed  fire,  he  foamed  at  the  mouth, 
he  kicked  and  fought,  and  bit  all  who  approached 
him  ;  but  the  inexorable  Wolsey,  who  looked  upon  him 
merely  as  a  toy,  ordered  six  of  his  tallest  yeomen  to 
lay  hold  of  him.  They  carried  off  the  unfortunate 
creature,  who  long  continued  to  utter  his  piercing  cries. 
At  the  very  moment  when  his  master  had  had  pity  oa 
him,  Wolsey,  like  the  servant  in  the  pai-able,  had  no 
pity  on  his  poor  companion  in  misfortune. 

At  last  they  reached  Esher.  What  a  residence  com- 
pared with  Whitehall !  ...  It  was  little  more 
than  fom-  bare  walls.  The  most  urgent  necessaries 
were  procured  from  the  neighbouring  houses;  but 
Wolsey  could  not  adapt  himself  to  this  cruel  contrast. 
Besides,  he  knew  Henry  VIH. ;  he  knew  that  he  might 
send  Norris  one  day  with  a  gold  ring,  and  the  execu- 
tioner the  next  with  a  rope.  Gloomy  and  dejected, 
he  remained  seated  in  his  lonely  apartments.  On  a 
sudden  he  would  rise  from  his  seat,  walk  hurriedly  up 
and  down,  speak  aloud  to  himself,  and  then,  falling 
back  in  his  chair,  he  would  weep  like  a  child.  This 
man,  who  formerly  had  shaken  kingdoms,  had  been 
overthrown  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  and  was  now 
atoning  for  liis  perfidies  in  humiliation  and  terror, — a 
striking  example  of  God's  judgment. 


CHAPTER  XIY. 

TUnnns  "More  elected  Clnnccllor—  \  Liy  Go\  eminent  one  of  the  gicat  Facts 
of  the  Refoim  itiott— Wolbev  Accused  of  Subordmttnig  En„Hnd  to  the 
P  1    -II     1    1  1  I  s  th     k  1  „■,  tl        n  \—U  s  C  11  1  1   lilt  jn— Croin 

II  ithHemy 

( 1  I  s— Ruform? 

11  11    II      llj  till.  i.ui\      iti  u-llii  lBIU— Iijcl   hUi  attacks  thun 

— Res  btanccofthcHouseofColiimons— StruG:gles— Hemysanctionstlie    I    "" 

Till  LL  Bills—  Uai  m  of  the  Clcig\ ,  and  Disfurhanoes  |j^\^l 

DtniNG  all  thi-,  time  eveiybody  '\^as  m  commotion  at  1  euU 


court,  Norfolk  and  Suffolk,  at  the  head  of  the  council, 
had  informed  the  Star  Chamber  of  the  cardinal's  dis- 
grace. Henry  know  not  how  to  supply  his  place. 
Some  suggested  the  Archbishop  of  Cautcrbuiy;  the 
king  would  not  hear  of  him.  "  Wolsey,"  says  a  French 
writer,  "had  disgusted  the  king  and  all  England  with 
those  subjects  of  two  masters  who,  almost  always,  sold 
one  to  the  other.  They  preferred  a  lay  minister."  "  I 
verily  believe  the  priests  will  never  more  obtain  it," 
wrote  Du  Bellay,  The  name  of  Sir  Thomas  More  was 
pronounced.  He  was  a  layman,  and  that  quality, 
which  a  few  years  before  would,  perhaps,  have  ex- 
cluded him,  was  now  a  recommendation.  A  breath 
of  Protestantism  wafted  to  the  summit  of  honours  one 
of  its  greatest  enemies.  Henry  thought  that  More, 
placed  between  the  pope  and  his  sovereign,  would 
decide  in  favour  of  the  interests  of  the  throne,  and 
of  tlic  independence  of  England.  His  choice  was 
made. 

More  knew  that  the  cardinal  had  been  thrown  aside 
because  he  was  not  a  sufficiently  docile  instrument  in 
the  matter  of  the  divorce.  The  work  required  of  him 
was  contrary  to  his  convictions ;  but  the  honour  con- 
ferred on  him  was  almost  unprecedented — very  seldom 
indeed  had  the  seals  been  intrusted  to  a  mere  knight. ' 
He  followed  the  path  of  ambition,  and  not  of  duty;  he 
shewed,  however,  in  after-days,  that  his  ambition  wag 
of  no  common  sort.  It  is  even  probable  that,  foresee- 
ing the  dangers  which  threatened  to  destroy  the  papal 
power  in  England,  More  wished  to  make  an  effort  to 
save  it.  Norfolk  installed  the  new  chancellor  in  the 
Star  Chamber.  "  His  majesty,"  said  the  duke,  "  has 
not  cast  his  eyes  upon  the  nobility  of  the  blood,  but  on 
the  worth  of  the  person.  He  desires  to  shew  by  this 
choice,  that  there  are  among  the  laity  and  gentlemen 
of  England  men  worthy  to  fill  the  highest  offices  in  the 
kingdom,  to  which,  until  this  hour,  bishops  and  noble- 
men alone  think  they  have  a  right."  The  Reformation, 
which  restored  religion  to  the  general  body  of  the 
church,  took  away  at  the  same  time  political  power 
from  the  clergy.  The  priests  had  deprived  the  people 
of  Chi-istian  activity,  and  the  governments  of  power; 
the  Gospel  restored  to  both  what  the  priests  had 
usurped.  This  result  could  not  but  be  favourable  to 
the  interests  of  religion ;  the  less  cause  kings  and  their 
subjects  have  to  fear  the  intrusion  of  clerical  power 
into  the  affairs  of  the  world,  the  more  will  they  yield 
themselves  to  the  vivifying  influence  of  faith. 

More  lost  no  time ;  never  liad  lord-chancellor  dis- 
played such  activity.  He  rapidly  cleared  off  the  cases 
which  were  in  arrear;  and  having  been  installed  on 
thi'  L'Citli  of  October,  he  called  on  Wolsey's  cause  on 
thi'  I'Stli  or  2yth.  "The  crown  of  England,"  said  the 
iitt(iiiicj-gi  ULial,  "has  nevei  ackno^vledged  any  supo- 
1101  but  God.  Now,  the  said  Thomas  Wolsey,  legato 
a  Intel  e,  hi^  obt  lined  fiom  the  pope  cei  tain  bulK,  by 
\iitue  of  ^\l)lch  he  has  exeicised,  since  the  28th  of 
August,  1523,  an  authoiity  deiogatory  to  his  majestj'-, 
power,  and  to  the  lights  of  his  couits  of  justice.     Tlie 

lltl  IT!  t 


WOLSEY'S  EEAL  CRIME. 


■715 


crown  of  England  cannot  be  put  under  tlie  pope ;  and 
wc  fliorcfore  accuse  the  said  legate  of  having  iuciUTcd 
the  penalties  oi  pnTinuiu're." 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  Ilcmy  had  other  reasons 
for  Wolsey's  disgrace  than  those  pointed  out  by  the 
attorney-general;  but  England  had  convictions  of  a 
higher  natm-c  than  her  sovereign's.  Wolsey  was  re- 
garded as  the  pope's  accomplice;  and  this  was  the 
cause  of  the  great  severity  of  the  public  officer,  and 
of  the  people.  The  cardinal  is  generally  excused  by 
alleging  that  both  king  and  parliament  had  ratified  the 
iniconstitutionnl  authority  with  which  Konie  had  in- 
vested him ;  but  had  not  the  powers  conferred  on  liim 
by  the  pope  produced  unjustifiable  results  in  a  consti- 
tutional monarchy .'  AVolsey,  as  papal  legate,  had 
governed  England  without  a  parliament ;  and,  as  if  the 
nation  had  gone  back  to  the  reign  of  John,  he  had 
substituted  de  facto,  if  not  in  theory,  the  monstrous 
system  of  the  famous  bull,  Unam  Sanctum,  for  the 
institution  of  j\fa;/>ia  Cfmrta.  The  king,  and  even  the 
lords  and  commons,  had  connived  in  vain  at  these 
illegalities ;  the  rights  of  the  constitution  of  England 
remained  not  the  less  inviolable,  and  the  best  of  the 
people  had  protested  against  their  infringement.  And 
hence  it  was,  that  AVolscy,  conscious  of  his  crime,  "  put 
himself  wholly  to  the  mercy  and  grace  of  the  king," 
and  his  council  declared  his  ignorance  of  the  statutes 
he  was  said  to  have  infringed.  We  cannot  here  allege, 
as  some  have  done,  the  prostration  of  "Wolsey's  moral 
powers ;  he  could,  even  after  his  fall,  reply  with  energy 
to  ITeniy  VIII.  When,  for  instance,  the  king  sent  to 
demand  for  the  crown  his  palace  of  AVhitehall,  which 
belonged  to  the  see  of  York,  the  cardinal  answered : 
"  Shew  his  majesty  from  me  that  I  must  desire  him  to 
call  to  his  most  gracious  remembrance  that  there  is 
both  a  heaven  and  a  hell;"  and  when  other  charges 
besides  those  of  complicity  with  the  papal  aggression 
were  brought  against  him,  he  defended  himself  cour- 
ageously, as  will  be  afterwards  seen.  If,  therefore,  the 
cardinal  did  not  attempt  to  justify  himself  for  infring- 
ing the  rights  of  the  cro'wu,  it  was  because  his  con- 
science bade  him  be  silent.  He  had  committed  one  of 
the  gravest  faults  of  which  a  statesman  can  be  guilty. 
Those  who  have  sought  to  excuse  him  have  not  sutli- 
ciently  borne  in  mind  that,  since  the  Great  Ciiarter, 
opposition  to  Romish  aggression  has  always  charac- 
terized the  constitution  and  government  of  England. 
Wolsey  perfectly  recollected  this ;  and  this  explanation 
is  more  houoiu-able  to  him  than  that  which  ascribes 
his  silence  to  weakness  or  to  cunning. 

The  cardinal  was  pronounced  guilty;  and  the  court 
passed  judgment,  that,  by  the  statute  oi  pi-a^miinire,  liis 
property  was  forfeited,  and  that  he  raiglit  be  taken 
before  the  king  in  council.  England,  by  sacrificing  a 
churchman  who  had  placed  himself  above  kings,  gave 
a  memorable  example  of  her  inflexible  opposition  to 
the  encroachments  of  the  papacy.  Wolsey  was  con- 
founded, and  his  troubled  imagination  conjured  up 
nothing  but  perils  on  every  side. 

AYhile  More  was  leiuling  himself  to  the  condemnation 
of  his  predecessor,  whose  friend  he  had  been,  another 
layman,  of  still  himibler  origin,  was  preparing  to  defend 
the  cardinal,  and  by  that  very  act  to  become  the  ap- 
pointed instrument  to  throw  down  the  convents   in 


England,  and  to  shatter  the  secular  bonds  which 
united  this  country  to  the  Roman  pontiff. 

On  the  1st  of  November,  two  days  after  Wolscy's 
condemnation,  one  of  his  officers,  with  a  prayer-book 
in  his  hand,  was  leaning  against  the  window  in  tiic 
great  hall,  ap])arently  absorbed  in  his  devotions. 
"  Good-morrow,"  said  Cavendish,  as  he  passed  him  on 
his  way  to  the  cardinal  for  his  usual  morning  duties. 
The  person  thus  addressed  raised  his  head,  and  the 
gentlemau-nshcr,  seeing  that  his  eyes  were  filled  with 
tears,  asked  him  :  "  Master  Cromwell,  is  my  lord  in 
any  danger?" — "I  think  not,"  replied  Cromwell ;  "but 
it  is  hard  to  lose  in  a  moment  the  labour  of  a  life." 
In  his  master's  fall  Cromwell  foreboded  his  own.  Ca- 
vendish endeavoured  to  console  him.  "God  willing, 
this  is  my  resolution,"  replied  Wolsey's  ambitious  soli- 
citor ;  "  I  intend,  this  afternoon,  as  soon  as  my  lord 
has  dined,  to  ride  to  London,  and  so  go  to  court,  where 
I  will  either  make  or  mar  before  I  come  back  again. 
At  this  moment  Cavendish  was  summoned,  and  he 
entered  the  cardinal's  chamber. 

Cromwell,  devoured  by  ambition,  had  clung  to 
Wolsey's  robe  in  order  to  obtain  jiower ;  but  AVolsey 
had  fallen,  and  the  solicitor,  dragged  along  with  him, 
strove  to  reach  by  other  means  the  object  of  his  desires. 
Cromwell  was  one  of  those  earnest  and  vigorous  men 
whom  God  prepares  for  critical  times.  Blessed  with 
a  solid  judgment  and  intrepid  firmness,  he  possessed 
a  quality  rare  in  every  age,  and  particularly  under 
Henry  "N^III., — fidelity  in  misfortune.  The  ability  by 
which  he  was  distinguished  was  not  at  all  times  with- 
out reproach:  success  seems  to  have  been  Ins  fii-st 
thought. 

After  dinner  Cromwell  followed  Wolsey  into  his 
private  room  :  "  My  lord,  permit  me  to  go  to  London  ; 
I  will  endeavour  to  save  you."  A  gleam  passed  over 
the  cardinal's  saddened  features.  "  Leave  the  room," 
he  said  to  his  attendants.  He  then  had  a  long  private 
conversation  with  Cromwell,  at  the  end  of  wliich  the 
latter  mounted  his  horse,  and  set  out  for  the  capital, 
riding  to  the  assault  of  power  with  the  same  activity 
as  he  had  marched  to  the  attack  of  Rome.  He  did  not 
hide  from  himself  that  it  would  be  difficult  to  procure 
access  to  the  king ;  for  certain  ecclesiastics,  jealous  of 
Wolsey,  had  spoken  against  his  solicitor  at  the  time 
of  the  secularization  of  the  convents,  and  Henry  could 
not  endure  him.  But  Cromwell  knew  that  fortune 
favours  the  bold,  and,  carried  away  by  his  ambitious 
dreams,  he  galloped  on,  saying  to  himself:  "One  foot 
in  the  stirrup,  and  my  fortune  is  made!" 

Sir  Christopher  Ilalcs,  a  zealous  Roman  catholic, 
entertained  a  sincere  friendship  for  him ;  and  to  this 
friend  Cromwell  applied.  Hales  proceeded  immediately 
to  the  palace,  (2d  November,)  where  he  found  a  nu- 
merous company  talking  about  the  cardinal's  ruin. 
"There  was  one  of  his  officers,"  said  Hales,  "who 
would  serve  your  majesty  well." — "Who  is  he?"  asked 
Henry. — "  Cromwell." — "  Do  not  speak  to  me  of  that 
man,  I  hate  him,"  replied  the  king  angrily;  and  upon 
that  all  the  cotu-tiers  chimed  in  with  his  majesty's 
opinion.  This  opening  w.is  not  very  encouraging ;  but 
Lord  Russell,  Earl  of  Bedford,  advancing  to  the  midst 
of  the  group  around  the  king,  said  boldly:  "Permit  me, 
Sir,  to  defend  a  man  to  whom  I  am  indebted  for  my 


HISTORY  OP  THE  REFORMATION. 


life.  When  yon  sent  nic  privately  into  Italy,  your 
majesty's  enemies,  having  discovered  mc  at  Bologna, 
would  have  put  me  to  death,  had  not  Thomas  Crom- 
well saved  me.  Sir,  since  you  have  now  to  do  with 
the  pope,  there  is  no  man  (I  think)  in  all  England  who 
will  be  fitter  for  your  purpose." — "Indeed  !"  said  the 
king;  and  after  a  little  reflection,  he  said  to  Hales: 
"Very  well,  then,  let  your  client  meet  me  in  Whitehall 
gardens."  The  courtiers  and  the  priests  withdrew  in 
great  discomfiture. 

The  interview  took  place  the  same  day  at  the  ap- 
pointed spot.  "Sir,"  said  Cromwell  to  his  majesty, 
"  the  pope  refuses  your  divorce.  .  .  .  But  why  do 
you  ask  his  consent?  Every  Englishman  is  master  in 
his  own  house,  and  why  should  not  you  be  so  in  Eng- 
land ?  Ought  a  foreign  prelate  to  share  your  power 
with  you?  It  is  true,  the  bishops  make  oath  to  your 
majesty,  but  they  make  another  to  the  pope  immediately 
after,  which  absolves  them  from  the  former.  Sir,  you 
arc  but  half  a  king,  and  we  are  but  half  your  subjects. 
This  kingdom  is  a  two-headed  monster.  Will  you  bear 
with  such  an  anomaly  any  longer?  What!  arc  you 
not  living  in  an  age  when  Frederick  the  AVise  and 
other  German  princes  have  thrown  off  the  yoke  of 
Eomc  ?  Do  likewise ;  become  once  more  a  king ; 
govern  your  kingdom  in  concert  with  your  lords  and 
commons.  Henceforward  let  Englishmen  alone  have 
anything  to  say  in  England ;  let  not  your  subjects' 
money  be  cast  any  more  into  the  yawning  gulf  of  the 
Tiber;  instead  of  imposing  new  taxes  on  the  nation, 
convert  to  the  general  good  those  treasures  which  have 
hitherto  only  served  to  fatten  proud  priests  and  lazy 
friars.  Now  is  the  moment  for  action.  Kely  upon 
your  parliament;  proclaim  yourself  the  head  of  the 
church  in  England.  Then  shall  yen  see  an  increase 
of  glory  to  your  name,  and  of  prosperity  to  your 
people." 

Never  before  had  such  language  been  addressed  to  a 
king  of  England.  It  was  not  only  on  account  of  the 
divorce  that  it  was  necessary  to  break  with  Kome ;  it 
was,  in  Cromwell's  view,  on  account  of  the  indepen- 
dence, glory,  and  prosperity  of  the  monarchy.  Those 
considerations  appeared  more  important  to  Henry  than 
those  which  had  hitherto  been  laid  before  him ;  none 
of  the  kings  of  England  had  been  so  well  placed  as  he 
was  to  understand  them.  AVlien  a  Tudor  had  suc- 
ceeded to  the  Saxon,  Norman,  and  Plantagenet  kings, 
a  man  of  the  free  race  of  the  Celts  had  taken,  on  the 
throne  of  England,  the  place  of  princes  submissive  to 
the  Roman  pontiffs.  The  ancient  British  church,  in- 
dependent of  the  papacy,  was  about  to  rise  again  with 
this  new  dynasty;  and  the  Celtic  race,  after  eleven 
centuries  of  humiliation,  to  recover  its  ancient  heritage. 
Undoubtedly,  Henry  had  no  recollections  of  this  kind ; 
but  he  worked  in  conformity  with  the  peculiar  charac- 
ter of  his  race,  without  being  aware  of  the  instinct 
which  compelled  him  to  act.  He  felt  that  a  sovereign 
who  submits  to  the  pope,  becomes,  like  King  John, 
his  vassal ;  and  now,  after  having  been  the  second  in 
his  realm,  he  desired  to  be  the  first. 

The  king  reflected  on  what  Cromwell  had  said; 
astonished  and  surprised,  he  sought  to  understand  the 
new  position  which  his  bold  adviser  had  made  for  him. 
"  Your  proposal  pleases  me  much,"  he  said  ;  "  but  can 


you  prove  what  you  assert?" — "Certainly,"  replied 
this  able  politician;  "I  have  with  me  a  copy  of  the 
oath  the  bishops  make  to  the  Roman  pontiff."  With 
these  words  he  drew  a  paper  from  his  pocket,  and 
placed  the  oath  before  the  king's  eyes.  Henry,  jealous 
of  his  authority,  even  to  despotism,  was  filled  with 
indignation,  and  felt  the  necessity  of  bringing  down 
that  foreign  authority  which  dared  dispute  the  power 
with  him,  even  in  his  own  kingdom.  He  drew  off  his 
ring  and  gave  it  to  Cromwell,  declaring  that  he  took 
him  into  his  service,  and  soon  after  made  him  a  mem- 
ber of  his  privy  council.  England,  we  may  say,  was 
now  virtually  emancipated  from  the  papacy. 

Cromwell  had  laid  the  first  foundations  of  his  greatness. 
He  had  remarked  the  path  his  master  had  followed, 
and  which  had  led  to  his  ruin, — complicity  with  the 
pope ;  and  he  hoped  to  succeed  by  following  the  con- 
trary course,  namely,  by  opposing  the  papacy.  He  had 
the  king's  support,  but  he  wanted  more.  Possessing  a 
clear  and  easy  style  of  eloquence,  he  saw  what  influence 
a  seat  in  the  great  council  of  the  nation  would  give 
him.  It  was  somewhat  late,  for  the  session  began  on 
the  next  day,  (3d  November,)  but  to  CromweU  nothing 
was  impossible.  The  son  of  his  friend,  Sir  Thomas 
Rush,  had  been  returned  to  parliament ;  but  the  young 
member  resigned  his  seat,  and  Cromwell  was  elected  in 
his  place. 

Parliament  had  not  met  for  seven  years,  the  king- 
dom having  been  governed  by  a  prince  of  the  Roman 
Church.  The  Reformation  of  the  church,  whose  re- 
generating influence  began  to  be  felt  already,  was  about 
to  restore  to  the  nation  those  ancient  liberties  of  which 
a  cardinal  had  robbed  it;  and  Henry  being  on  the 
point  of  taking  very  important  resolutions,  felt  the 
necessity  of  drawing  nearer  to  his  people.  Everything 
betokened  that  a  good  feeling  would  prevail  between 
the  parliament  and  the  crown,  and  that  "  the  priests 
would  have  a  terrible  fright." 

While  Henry  was  preparing  to  attack  the  Roman 
Church  in  the  papal  supremacy,  the  commons  were 
getting  ready  to  war  against  the  numerous  abuses  with 
which  it  had  covered  England.  "  Some  oven  thought," 
says  Tyndale,  "that  this  assembly  would  reform  the 
church,  and  that  the  golden  age  would  come  again." 
But  it  was  not  from  acts  of  parliament  that  the  Refor- 
mation was  destined  to  proceed,  but  solely  from  the 
Word  of  God.  And  yet  the  commons,  without  touch- 
ing upon  doctrine,  were  going  to  do  their  duty  manfully 
in  things  within  their  province ;  and  the  parliament  of 
1529  may  be  regarded  (Lord  Herbert  of  Cherbury 
observes)  as  the  first  Protestant  parliament  of  England. 
"  The  bishops  require  excessive  fines  for  the  probates 
of  wills,"  said  Tyndale's  old  friend.  Sir  Ilenry  Guilford 
"  As  testamentary  executor  to  Sir  William  Compton, 
I  had  to  pay  a  thousand  marks  sterling." — "  The  spiri- 
tual men,"  said  another  member,  "  would  rather  see 
the  poor  orphans  die  of  hunger  than  give  them  the  lean 
cow,  the  only  thing  their  father  left  them." — "Priests," 
said  another,  "  have  farms,  tanneries,  and  warehouses, 
all  over  the  country.  In  short,  the  clerks  take  every- 
thing from  their  flocks,  and  not  only  give  them  nothing, 
but  even  deny  them  the  Word  of  God." 

The  clergy  wore  in  utter  consternation.  The  power 
of  the  nation  seemed  to  awaken  in  this  parliament  for 


THREE  BILLS  OP  REFORM. 


7ir 


the  sole  purpose  of  attacking  the  power  of  the  priest. 
It  was  important  to  ward  off  these  blows.  The  Convo- 
cation of  the  province  of  Canterbury,  assembling  at 
AVL'slniinstor,  on  the  5tli  of  November,  thought  it  their 
(lutv,  in  self-ik'foucc,  to  reform  the  most  crying  abuses. 
It  was  therefore  decrceJ,  on  tlie  12tli  of  November, 
that  the  priests  should  no  longer  keep  shops  or  taverns, 
play  at  dice  or  other  forbidden  games,  pass  the  night 
in  suspected  places,  be  present  at  disreputable  shows, 
go  about  with  sporting  dogs,  or  with  hawks,  falcons, 
or  other  birds  of  prey,  on  their  fist ;  or,  fiually,  hold 
suspicious  intercourse  with  women.  Penalties  wore 
denounced  against  these  various  disorders ;  they  were 
doubled  iu  case  of  adultery;  and  still  further  increased 
in  the  case  of  more  abominable  impurities.  Such  were 
the  laws  rendered  necessary  by  the  manners  of  the  clergy. 

These  measures  did  not  satisfy  the  Commons.  Three 
bills  were  introduced  having  reference  to  the  fees  on 
the  probate  of  wills,  mortuaries,  pluralities,  non-resi- 
dence, and  the  exercise  of  secular  professions.  "  Tiie 
destruction  of  the  church  is  aimed  at,"  exclaimed 
Bishop  Fishei',  when  these  bills  were  carried  to  the 
Lords ;  "  and  if  the  church  falls,  the  glory  of  the  king- 
dom will  perish.  Lutheranism  is  making  great  pro- 
gress amongst  us,  aud  the  savage  cry  that  has  already 
echoed   iu    IJohemia,   Down  ivith   the  chirch!  is  now 

uttered  by  the  Commons How  does  that 

come  about?  Solely  from  want  of  faith. — My  lords, 
save  your  countiy!  save  the  church!"  Sir  Thomas 
Audley,  the  speaker,  with  a  deputation  of  thirty  mem- 
bers, immediately  went  to  Whitehall.  "  Sir,"  they  said 
to  the  king,  "  we  are  accused  of  being  without  faith, 
and  of  being  almost  as  bad  as  tjic  Turks.  AVe  demand 
an  apology  for  such  offensive  language."  Fisher  pre- 
tended that  he  only  meant  to  speak  of  the  Bohemians ; 
and  the  Commons,  by  no  means  satisfied,  zealously  went 
on  with  their  reforms. 

These  the  king  was  resolved  to  concede;  but  he 
determined  to  take  advantage  of  them  to  present  a  bill 
making  over  to  him  all  the  money  borrowed  of  his 
subjects.  John  Petit,  one  of  the  members  for  the  city, 
boldly  opposed  this  demand.  "  I  do  not  know  other 
persons'  affairs,"  he  said,  "  and  I  cannot  give  what  does 
not  belong  to  me.  But  as  regards  myself  personally, 
I  give  without  reserve  all  that  I  have  lent  the  king." 
The  royal  bill  passed,  and  the  satisfied  Henry  gave 
his  consent  to  the  bills  of  the  Commons.  Every  dispen- 
sation coming  from  Kome,  which  might  bo  contrary  to 
the  statutes,  was  strictly  forbidden.  The  bishops  ex- 
claimed, that  the  Commons  were  becoming  schismati- 
cal ;  distm-bauces  were  excited  by  certain  priests  ;  but 
the  clerical  agitators  were  punished,  and  the  people, 
when  they  heard  of  it,  were  delighted  beyond  measure. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

Tlio  last  Hour— Morc's  Fanaticism— Debates  in  Convocation— Eoyal  Pro- 
clamation—The Bishop  of  Norwich — Sentences  condemned— Latimer's 
Opposition— The  New  Testament  burnt— The  Persecution  begins— 
Hitton— Bayfield- Tonstall  and  Packington— BayUeld  Arrested— The 
Keetor  Patmore— Lollards'  Tower — Tyndale  and  Patmore — a  Musician— 
Freese  the  Painter— Placards  and  Slartyrdom  of  Beunet — Thomas  More 
and  John  Petit— Bilney. 

The  moment  when  Henry  aimed  his   first  blows   at 


Rome  was  also  that  in  which  he  began  to  shed  the 
blood  of  the  disciples  of  the  Gospel.  Although  ready 
to  throw  off  the  authority  of  the  pope,  he  would  not 
recognise  tlio  authority  of  Christ:  obedience  to  the 
Scriptures  is.  however,  the  very  soul  of  the  Reforma- 
tion. 

Tlie  king's  contest  with  Rome  had  filled  the  friends 
of  Scripture  with  hope.  The  artisans  and  tradesmen, 
particularly  those  who  lived  near  the  sea,  were  almost 
wholly  won  over  to  the  Gospel.  "The  king  is  one  of 
us,"  they  used  to  boast ;  "  he  wishes  his  subjects  to 
read  the  New  Testament.  Our  faith,  which  is  tlie 
true  one,  will  circulate  through  the  kingdom,  and  by 
Michaelmas  next,  those  who  believe  as  we  do  will  be 
more  numerous  than  those  of  a  contrary  opinion.  We 
are  ready,  if  needs  be,  to  die  in  the  struggle."  This 
was  indeed  to  be  the  fate  of  many. 

Language  such  as  this  aroused  the  clergy :  "  The 
last  hour  has  come,"  said  Stokesley,  who  had  been 
raised  to  the  see  of  London  after  Toustall's  translation 
to  Durham ;  "  if  we  would  not  have  Luthei''s  heresy 
pervade  the  whole  of  England,  we  must  hasten  to 
throw  it  iu  the  sea."  Henry  was  fully  disposed  to  do 
so ;  but  as  he  was  not  on  very  good  terms  with  the 
clergy,  a  man  was  wanted  to  serve  as  mediator  between 
him  and  the  bishops.     He  was  soon  found. 

Sir  Tiiomas  More's  noble  understanding  was  then 
passing  from  ascetic  practices  to  fanaticism,  and  the 
humanist  turning  into  an  inquisitor.  In  his  opinion, 
the  burning  of  heretics  was  just  and  necessary.  He 
has  even  boon  reproached  with  binding  evangelical 
Christians  to  a  tree  in  his  garden,  which  he  called 
"  the  tree  of  truth,"  aud  of  having  flogged  them  with 
his  own  hand.  More  has  declared,  that  he  never  gave 
"  stripe  nor  stroke,  nor  so  much  as  a  fillip  on  the  fore- 
head," to  any  of  his  i-eligious  adversaries ;  and  we 
willingly  credit  his  denial.  All  must  be  pleased  to 
think,  that  if  the  author  of  the  "Utopia"  was  a  severe 
judge,  the  hand  which  held  one  of  the  most  famous 
pens  of  the  sixteenth  century  never  discharged  the 
duties  of  an  executioner. 

The  bishops  led  the  attack.  "  We  must  clear  the 
Lord's  field  of  the  thorns  which  choke  it,"  said  the 
Archbishop  of  Canterbury  to  Convocation,  on  the  29  th 
of  November,  1529 ;  immediately  after  which  the  Bishop 
of  Bath  road  to  his  colleagues  the  list  of  books  that  he 
desired  to  have  condemned.  There  were  a  number  of 
works  by  Tyndale,  Luther,  Melaucthon,  Zwingle,  (Ecol- 
ampadius,  Pomeranus,  Brentius,  Bucer,  Jonas,  Francis 
Lambert,  Fryth,  aud  Fish.  The  Bible,  iu  particular, 
was  set  down.  "It  is  impossible  to  translate  the 
Scripture  into  Englisli,"  said  one  of  the  prelates. — "It 
is  not  lawful  for  the  laity  to  read  it  in  their  mother 
tongue,"  said  another. — "If  you  tolerate  the  Bible," 
added  a  third,  "  you  will  make  us  all  heretics." — "  By 
circulating  the  Scriptures,"  exclaimed  several,  "you 
will  raise  up  the  nation  against  the  king."  Sir  T. 
More  laid  the  bishops'  petition  before  the  king,  and 
some  time  after,  Henry  gave  orders  by  proclamation, 
that  "  no  one  should  preach,  or  write  any  book,  or 
keep  any  school,  without  his  bishop's  license ; — that  no 
one  should  keep  any  heretical,  book  in  his  house ; — 
that  the  bishops  should  detain  the  offenders  in  prison 
at  their  discretion,  aud  then  proceed  to  the  execution 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


of  the  guilty; — and,  finally,  that  the  chancellor,  the 
justices  of  the  peace,  and  other  magistrates,  should  aid 
and  assist  the  bishops."  Such  was  the  cruel  procla- 
mation of  Henry  VIII.,  "  the  father  of  the  English 
Eeformation." 

The  clergy  were  not  yet  satisfied.  TJie  blind  and 
octogenarian  Bishop  of  Norwich,  being  more  ardent 
than  the  youngest  of  his  priests,  recommenced  his 
complaints.  "  My  diocese  is  accumhered  with  such  as 
read  the  Bible,"  said  he  to  the  Archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury; "and  there  is  not  a  clerk  from  Cambridge  but 
savoureth  of  the  frijinrj-vm.  If  this  continues  any  time, 
they  will  nndo  us  all.  We  must  have  greater  authority 
to  punish  them  than  we  have." 

Consequently,  on  the  24th  of  May,  1530,  More, 
Warham,  TonstaU,  and  Gardiner,  having  been  admitted 
into  St.  Edward's  chamber  at  Westminster,  to  make  a 
report  to  the  king  concerning  heresy,  they  proposed 
forbidding,  in  the  most  positive  manner,  the  New  Tes- 
tament and  certain  other  books  in  which  the  following 
doctrines  were  taught:  "That  Christ  has  shed  His  blood 
for  our  iniquities,  as  a  sacrifice  to  the  Father. — Faith 
only  doth  justify  us. — Faith  without  good  works  is  no 
little  or  weak  faith,  it  is  no  faith. — Labouring  in  good 
works  to  come  to  heaven,  tliou  dost  shame  Christ's 
blood." 

Wiilst  nearly  every  one  in  the  audience-chamber 
supported  the  prayer  of  the  petition,  there  were  three 
or  four  doctors  who  kept  silence.  At  last  one  of  them 
— it  was  Latimer — opposed  the  proposition.  Bilney's 
friend  was  more  decided  than  ever  to  listen  to  no 
other  voice  than  God's.  "  Christ's  sheep  hear  no 
man's  voice  but  Christ's,"  he  answered  Dr.  Redman, 
who  had  called  upon  him  to  submit  to  the  church; 
"  trouble  me  no  more  from  the  talking  with  the  Lord 
my  God."  The  church,  in  Latimer's  opinion,  presumed 
to  set  up  its  own  voice  in  the  place  of  Christ's,  and 
the  Eeformation  did  the  contrary:  this  was  his  abridg- 
ment of  the  controversy.  Being  called  upon  to  preach 
during  Christmas-tide,  he  had  censured  his  hearers 
because  they  celebrated  that  festival  by  playing  at 
cards,  like  mere  worldlings,  and  then  proceeded  to  lay 
before  their  eyes  Christ's  cwds,  that  is  to  say,  His  laws. 
Being  placed  on  the  Cambridge  commission  to  examine 
into  the  question  of  the  king's  marriage,  he  had  con- 
ciliated the  esteem  of  Henry's  deputy,  Doctor  Butts, 
the  court  physician,  who  had  presented  him  to  his 
master,  by  whose  orders  he  preached  at  Windsor. 

Henry  felt  disposed  at  iirst  to  yield  something  to 
Latimer.  "Many  of  my  subjects,"  said  he  to  the 
prelates  assembled  in  St.  Edward's  hall,  "  think  that  it 
is  my  duty  to  cause  the  Scriptures  to  be  translated  and 
given  to  the  people."  The  discussion  immediately  be- 
gan between  the  two  parties ;  and  Latimer  concluded 
by  asking  "  that  the  Bible  should  be  permitted  to 
circulate  freely  in  English." — "  But  the  most  part 
overcame  the  better,"  he  tells  us.  Henry  declared  that 
the  teaching  of  the  priests  was  suiiicieut  for  the  people, 
and  was  content  to  add,  "  that  he  would  give  the  Bible 
to  his  subjects  when  they  renounced  the  arrogant 
pretension  of  interpreting  it  according  to  their  own 
fancies." — "  Shun  these  books,"  cried  the  priests  from 
the  pulpit,  "  detest  them,  keep  them  not  in  your  hands, 
deliver  them  up  to  your  superiors."     Or,  if  you  do  not, 


your  prince,  who  has  received  from  God  the  sword  of 
justice,  will  use  it  to  punish  you."  Rome  had  every 
reason  to  be  satisfied  with  Henry  VHI.  Tonstall, 
who  still  kept  under  lock  and  key  the  Testaments 
purchased  at  Au twerp  through  Packingtou's  assistance, 
liad  them  carried  to  St.  Paul's  Churchyard,  where  they 
were  publicly  burnt.  The  spectators  retired  shaking 
the  head,  and  saying :  "  The  teaching  of  the  priests 
and  of  Scriptures  must  be  in  contradiction  to  each 
other,  since  the  priests  destroy  them."  Latimer  did 
more  :  "  You  have  promised  us  the  Word  of  God,"  he 
wrote  courageously  to  the  king,  "  perform  your  promise 
now  rather  than  to-morrow !  The  day  is  at  hand 
when  you  shall  give  an  accoimt  of  your  ofiice,  and 
of  the  blood  that  hath  been  shed  with  your  sword." 
Latimer  well  knew  that  by  such  language  he  hazarded 
his  life  ;  but  that  he  was  ready  to  sacrifice,  as  he  tells 
us  himself. 

Persecution  soon  came.  Just  as  the  sun  appeared  to 
be  rising  on  the  Reformation,  the  storm  burst  forth. 
"  There  was  not  a  stone  the  bishops  left  unremoved," 
says  the  chronicler,  "any  corner  unsearched,  for  the 
diligent  execution  of  the  king's  proclamation :  where- 
upon ensued  a  grievous  persecution  and  slaughter  of 
the  faithful." 

Thomas  Hitton,  a  poor  and  pious  minister  of  Kent, 
used  to  go  frequently  to  Antwerp  to  purchase  New 
Testaments.  As  he  was  returning  from  one  of  these 
expeditions,  in  1529,  the  Bishop  of  Rochester  caused 
him  to  be  arrested  at  Gravesend,  and  put  to  the  cruel- 
est  tortures,  to  make  him  deny  his  faith.  But  the 
martyr  repeated  with  holy  enthusiasm :  "  Salvation 
comcth  by  faith,  and  not  by  works,  aud  Christ  giveth 
it  to  whomsoever  He  willeth."  On  the  20th  of  Feb- 
ruary, 1530,  he  was  tied  to  the  stake  and  there  burnt 
to  death. 

Scarcely  were  Hitton's  sufferings  ended  for  bringing 
the  Scriptures  into  England,  when  a  vessel  laden  with 
New  Testaments  arrived  at  Colchester.  The  indefati- 
gable Bayfield,  who  accompanied  these  books,  sold 
them  in  London,  went  back  to  the  Continent,  and  re- 
turned to  England  in  November;  but  this  time  the 
Scriptures  fell  into  the  hands  of  Sir  Thomas  More. 
Bayfield,  undismayed,  again  visited  the  Low  Countries, 
and  soon  reappeared,  bringing  with  him  the  New 
Testament  and  the  works  of  almost  all  the  Reformers. 
"  How  cometh  it  that  there  are  so  many  New  Testa- 
ments from  abroad?"  asked  Tonstall  of  Packinglon; 
"you  promised  me  that  you  would  buy  them  all." — 
"  They  have  printed  more  since,"  rej)lied  the  wily 
merchant ;  "  and  it  will  never  be  better  so  long  as  they 
have  letters  and  stamps,  [types  and  dies.]  My  lord, 
you  had  better  buy  the  stamps  too,  and  so  you  shall  be 
sure." 

Instead  of  the  stamps,  the  priests  sought  after  Bay- 
field. The  Bishop  of  Loudon  could  not  endure  this 
godly  man.  Having  one  day  asked  Bainham  (who 
afterwards  suffered  martyrdom)  whether  he  knew  a 
single  individiud,  who,  since  the  days  of  the  apostles, 
had  lived  according  to  the  true  faith  in  Jesus  Christ, 
the  latter  answered :  "  Yes,  I  know  Bayfield."  Being 
tracked  from  place  to  place,  he  fled  from  the  house  of 
his  pious  hostess,  and  hid  himself  at  his  binder's,  where 
Le  was  discovered,  and  thrown  into  the  Lollard's  tower. 


BAYFIELD  IMPRISONED  IN  THE  COAL  CELLAR. 


As  he  entered  the  prison,  Bayficlil  noticeil  a  priest, 
named  I'atmore,  pale,  weakeued  by  suffering,  and  ready 
to  sink  under  the  ill-treatment  of  his  jailers.  Patmore, 
won  over  by  Bayfield's  piety,  soon  opened  his  heart  to 
him.  "Wlien  rector  of  Iladdam,  he  had  found  the 
truth  in  AViekliffe's  writings.  "  They  have  burnt  his 
bones,"  he  said,  "  but  from  his  ashes  slmll  burst  forth 
a  well-spring  of  life."  Delighting  in  good  works,  he 
used  to  till  his  granaries  with  wlieat ;  and  when  the 
markets  were  high,  he  would  send  his  corn  to  them  in 
such  abundance  as  to  bring  down  the  prices.  "  It  is 
contrary  to  the  law  of  God  to  burn  heretics,"  he  said ; 
and  growing  bolder,  he  added :  "  I  care  no  more  for 
the  pope's  curse  tlum  for  a  bundle  of  hay." 
I  His  curate,  (Simon  Smith,  unwilling  to  imitate  the 
I  disorderly  lives  of  the  priests,  and  finding  Joan  Beuuore, 
the  rector's  servant,  to  be  a  discreet  and  pious  person, 
desired  to  marry  her.  "  God,"  said  Patmore,  "  has 
declared  marriage  lawful  for  all  men ;  and  accordingly 
it  is  permitted  to  the  priests  in  foreign  parts."  The 
rector  alluded  to  Witteraberg,  where  he  had  visited 
Luther.  After  his  marriage  Smith  and  his  wife  (piitted 
England  for  a  season,  and  Patmore  accompanied  them 
as  far  as  London. 

The  news  of  this  marriage  of  a  priest — a  fact  with- 
out precedent  in  England — made  Stokesley  throw 
Patmore  into  the  Lollard's  tower ;  and  although  he  was 
ill,  neither  fire,  light,  nor  any  other  comfort,  was  granted 
him.  The  bishop  and  his  vicai'-general  visited  him 
alone  in  his  prison,  and  endeavoured  by  their  threats 
to  make  him  deny  his  faith. 

It  was  during  these  circumstances  that  Bayfield  was 
thrust  into  the  tower.  By  his  Christian  words  he 
revived  Patmore's  languishing  faitii ;  and  the  latter 
complained  to  the  king,  that  the  Bishop  of  London  i)re- 
vented  Iiis  feeding  the  llock  which  God  had  committed 
to  his  charge.  Stokesley,  comprehending  whence  Pat- 
more derived  his  new  courage,  removed  Bayfield  from 
the  Lollard's  tower,  and  shut  him  up  in  the  coal-house, 
where  he  was  fastened  upright  to  the  wall  by  the  neck, 
middle,  and  legs.  The  imfortuuate  Gospeller  of  Bury 
passed  his  time  in  continual  darkness,  never  lying 
down,  never  seated,  but  nailed  as  it  were  to  the  wall, 
and  never  hearing  the  sound  of  human  voice.  We 
shall  see  him  hereafter  issuing  from  this  horrible  prison 
to  die  on  the  scaffold. 

Patmore  was  not  the  only  one  in  his  family  who 
suffered  persecution ;  he  had  in  London  a  brother, 
named  Thomas,  a  friend  of  .lohn  Tyndale,  the  younger 
brother  of  the  celebrated  reformer.  Thomas  had  said 
that  the  truth  of  Scripture  was  at  last  reappearing  in 
the  world,  after  being  hidden  for  many  ages,  and  .John 
Tyndale  had  sent  five  marks  to  his  brother  "WUliam, 
and  received  letters  from  him.  Moreover,  the  two 
friends  (who  were  both  tradesmen)  had  distributed  a 
great  number  of  Testaments  and  other  works.  But 
their  faith  was  not  deeply  rooted,  and  it  was  more  out 
of  sympathy  for  their  brothers  that  they  had  believed ; 
accordingly,  Stokesley  so  completely  entangled  them, 
that  they  confessed  their  "  crime."  More,  delighted 
at  the  opportunity  which  offered  to  cover  the  name  of 
Tyndale  with  shame,  was  not  satisfied  with  condem- 
ning the  two  friends  to  pay  a  fine  of  £100  each  ;  he 
invented  a  new  disgrace.      He  sewed  on  their  dress 


some  sheets  of  the  New  Testament  which  they  had 
circulated,  placed  the  two  penitents  on  horseback,  with 
their  faces  towards  the  tail,  and  thus  paraded  them 
through  the  streets  of  London,  exposed  to  the  jeers  and 
laughter  of  the  populace.  In  fiiis.  More  succeeded 
better  than  in  his  refutation  of  the  reformer's  writings. 

From  that  time  the  persecution  became  more  violent. 
Husbandmen,  artists,  tradespeople,  and  even  noblemen, 
felt  the  cruel  fangs  of  the  clergy  and  of  Sir  Thomas 
More.  Tliey  sent  to  jail  a  pious  musician  who  used  to 
wander  from  town  to  town,  singing  to  his  harp  a  hymn 
in  commendation  of  Martin  Luther  and  of  the  Reforma- 
tion. A  painter,  named  Edward  Freesc,  a  yomig  man 
of  ready  wit,  having  been  engaged  to  paint  some  hang- 
ings in  a  house,  wrote  on  the  bordei-s  certain  sentences 
of  the  Scripture.  For  this  he  was  seized,  and  taken  to 
the  Bishoj)  of  London's  ])alace  at  Fnlliam,  and  there 
imprisoned,  where  his  chief  nourishment  was  bread  made 
out  of  sawdust.  His  poor  wife,  who  was  pregnant,  went 
down  to  Fulham  to  see  her  husband  ;  but  the  bishop's 
porter  had  orders  to  admit  no  one,  and  the  brute  gave 
her  so  violent  a  kick,  as  to  kill  her  unborn  infant,  and 
cause  the  mother's  death  not  long  after.  The  unhappy 
Freese  was  removed  to  the  Lollard's  tower,  where  he 
was  put  into  chains,  his  hands  only  being  left  free. 
"With  these  he  took  a  piece  of  coal,  and  wrote  some 
pious  sentences  on  the  wall :  upon  this  he  was  man- 
acled; but  his  wrists  were  so  severely  pinched,  tliat 
the  flesh  grew  up  higher  than  tlie  irons.  His  intellect 
became  disturbed ;  his  hair  in  wild  disorder  soou 
covered  his  face,  through  which  liis  eyes  glared  fierce 
and  haggard.  The  want  of  proper  food,  bad  treatment, 
his  wife's  death,  and  his  lengthened  imprisonment, 
entirely  undermined  his  reason.  When  brought  to  St. 
Paid's,  he  was  kept  three  days  without  meat;  and 
when  he  appeared  before  the  consistory,  the  poor 
prisoner,  silent  and  scarce  able  to  stand,  looked  around 
and  gazed  upon  the  spectators  "  like  a  wihl  man." 
Tlie  examination  was  begun,  but  to  every  question  put 
to  him,  Freese  made  the  same  answer  :  "  My  Lord  is  a 
good  man."  They  could  get  nothing  from  him  but 
this  affecting  reply.  Alas !  the  light  shone  no  more 
upon  his  understanding,  but  the  love  of  .lesus  was  still 
in  his  heart.  He  was  scut  back  to  Bearsy  Abbey, 
where  he  did  not  remain  long ;  but  he  never  entirely 
recovered  his  reason.  Henry  VIII.  and  his  priests 
iutlicted  punishments  still  more  cruel  even  than  the 
stake. 

Tei-ror  began  to  spi-ead  far  and  wide.  The  most 
active  evangelists  had  been  compelled  to  flee  to  a  foreign 
land;  some  of  the  most  godly  were  in  prison;  and 
among  those  in  high  station  there  were  many,  and 
perliaps  Latimer  was  one,  wiio  seemed  willing  to 
shelter  themselves  under  an  exaggerated  moderation. 
But  just  as  the  persecution  in  Loudon  had  succeeded 
in  silencing  the  most  timid,  other  voices,  more  cour- 
ageous, were  raised  in  the  provinces.  The  city  of 
Exeter  was  at  that  time  in  great  agitation ;  placards 
had  been  discovered  on  the  gates  of  the  cathedral, 
containing  some  of  the  principles  "  of  the  new  doc- 
trine." While  the  mayor  and  his  officers  were  seeking 
after  the  author  of  these  "blasphemies,"  the  bishop  and 
all  his  doctors,  "  iis  hot  as  coals,"  says  the  chronicler, 
were  preaching  in  the  most  fiery  style.    On  the  follow- 


723 


HISTORY  OP  THE  REFORMATION. 


ing  Suuday,  during  the  sermon,  two  men,  who  had  been 
the  busiest  of  all  the  city  in  searching  for  the  author 
of  the  bills,  were  struck  by  the  appearance  of  a  person 
seated  near  them.  "  Surely  this  fellow  is  the  heretic," 
they  said.  But  their  neighbour's  devotion,  for  he  did 
not  take  his  eyes  off  his  book,  quite  put  them  out; 
they  did  not  perceive  that  he  was  reading  the  New 
Testament  in  Latin. 

This  man,  Thomas  Bennet,  -svas  indeed  the  offender. 
Being  converted  at  Cambridge  by  the  preaching  of 
BUney,  whose  friend  he  was,  he  had  gone  to  Torring- 
toa  for  fear  of  the  persecution,  and  thence  to  Exeter ; 
and  after  marrying  to  avoid  unchastity,  (as  ho  says,) 
he  became  schoolmaster.  Quiet,  humble,  courteous  to 
everybody,  and  somewhat  timid,  Bennet  had  lived  six 
years  in  that  city  without  his  faith  being  discovered. 
At  last,  his  conscience  being  awakened,  he  resolved  to 
fasten,  by  night,  to  the  cathedral  gates,  certain  evan- 
gelical placards.  "  Everybody  will  read  the  writing," 
he  thought ;  "  and  nobody  will  know  the  writer."  He 
did  as  he  had  proposed. 

Not  long  after  the  Sunday  on  which  be  had  been 
so  nearly  discovered,  the  priests  prepared  a  great 
pageant,  and  made  ready  to  pronounce  against  the 
unknown  heretic  the  great  curse,  "  with  book,  bell,  and 
candle."  The  cathedral  was  crowded,  and  Bonnet 
himself  was  among  the  spectators.  In  the  middle 
stood  a  great  cross,  on  which  lighted  tapers  were 
placed,  and  around  it  were  gathered  all  the  Franciscans 
and  Dominicans  of  Exeter.  One  of  the  priests  having 
delivered  a  sermon  on  the  words :  There  is  an  accursed 
thiiiri  in  the  midst  of  thee,  O  Israel,  the  bishop  drew  near 
the  cross,  and  pronounced  the  curse  against  the  offender. 
He  took  one  of  the  tapers  and  said :  "  Let  the  soul  of 
the  unknown  heretic,  if  he  be  dead  already,  be  quenched 
this  night  in  the  pains  of  hell-iire,  as  this  candle  is  now 
quenched  and  put  out ; "  and  with  tliat  he  put  out  the 
caudle.  Then,  taking  off  a  second,  he  continued : 
"And  let  us  pray  to  God,  if  he  be  yet  alive,  that  his 
eyes  be  put  out,  and  that  all  the  senses  of  his  body 
may  fail  him,  as  now  the  light  of  this  candle  is  gone ; " 
extinguishing  the  second  candle.  After  this,  one  of 
the  priests  went  up  to  the  cross  and  struck  it,  when 
the  noise  it  made  in  falling,  re-echoing  along  the  roof, 
so  frightened  the  spectators,  that  they  uttered  a  shriek 
of  terror,  and  held  up  their  hands  to  heaven,  as  if  to 
pray  that  the  Divine  curse  might  not  fall  on  them. 
Beunet,  a  witness  of  this  comedy,  could  not  forbear 
smiling.  "AVhat  are  you  laughing  at?"  asked  his 
neighbours ;  "  here  is  the  heretic,  here  is  the  heretic, 
hold  him  fast!"  This  created  great  confusion  among 
the  crowd,  some  shouting,  some  clapping  their  hands, 
others  running  to  and  fro ;  but,  owing  to  the  tumult, 
Bennet  succeeded  in  making  his  escape. 

The  excommunication  did  but  increase  his  desire  to 
attack  the  Romish  superstitions ;  and,  accordingly,  before 
five  o'clock  the  next  morning,  (it  was  in  the  month  of 
October,  1530,)  his  servant-boy  fastened  up  again,  by 
his  orders,  on  the  cathedral  gates,  some  placards  similar 
to  those  which  had  been  torn  down.  It  chanced  that 
a  citizen,  going  to  early  mass,  saw  the  boy,  and,  running 
up  to  him,  caught  hold  of  him,  and  pulled  down  the 
papers  ;  and  then  dragging  the  boy  with  one  hand,  and 
with  the  placards  in  the  other,  he  went  to  the  mayor 


of  the  city.  Bennet's  servant  was  recognised ;  his  master 
was  immediately  arrested,  and  put  in  the  stocks,  "  with 
as  much  favour  as  a  dog  would  find,"  says  Foxe. 

Exeter  seemed  determined  to  make  itself  the  cham- 
pion of  sacerdotalism  in  England.  For  a  whole  week, 
not  only  the  bishop,  but  all  the  priests  and  friars  of 
the  city,  visited  Bennet  night  and  day.  But  they  tried 
in  vain  to  prove  to  him  that  the  Roman  Church  was 
the  true  one.  "  God  has  given  me  grace  to  be  of  a 
better  Church,"  he  said.  "  Do  you  not  know  that  ours 
is  built  upon  St.  Peter  f — "  The  church  that  is  built 
upon  a  man,"  he  replied,  "  is  the  devil's  church,  and 
not  God's."  His  cell  was  continually  thronged  with 
visitors ;  and,  in  default  of  arguments,  the  most  igno- 
rant of  the  friars  called  the  prisoner  a  heretic,  and 
spat  upon  him.  At  length  they  brought  to  him  a  learned 
doctor  of  theology,  who,  they  supposed,  would  infallibly 
convert  him.  "Our  ways  are  God's  ways,"  said  the 
doctor  gravely.  But  he  soon  discovered  that  theologians 
can  do  nothing  against  the  Word  of  the  Lord.  "  He 
only  is  my  way,"  replied  Bennet,  "  who  saith,  /  am  the 
ivay,  the  truth,  and  the  life.  In  His  u-ay  will  I  walk ; — 
His  truth  Avill  I  embrace; — His  everlasting  life  will 
I  seek." 

He  was  condemned  to  be  burnt ;  and  More  having 
transmitted  the  order  de  comhurendo  with  the  utmost 
speed,  the  priests  placed  Beunet  in  the  hands  of  the 
sheriiT  on  the  15th  of  January,  1531,  by  whom  he  was 
conducted  to  the  Liverydole,  a  field  without  the  city, 
where  the  stake  was  prepared.  When  Bennet  arrived 
at  the  place  of  execution,  ho  briefly  exhorted  the 
people,  but  with  such  unction,  that  the  sheriff's  clerk, 
as  he  heard  him,  exclaimed  :  "  Truly  this  is  a  servant 
of  God."  Two  persons,  however,  seemed  unmoved : 
they  were  Thomas  Carew  and  John  Barnohouse,  both 
holding  the  station  of  gentlemen.  Going  up  to  the 
martyr,  they  exclaimed  in  a  threatening  voice  :  "  Say 
Precor  sanctam  Mariam  et  omnes  sanctos  Dei." — "I  know 
no  other  advocate  but  Jesus  Christ,"  replied  Bennet. 
Barnehouse  was  so  enraged  at  these  words,  that  he 
took  a  furze-bush  upon  a  pike,  and  setting  it  on  fire, 
thrust  it  into  the  martyr's  face,  exclaiming:  "Accursed 
heretic,  pray  to  our  Lady,  or  I  will  make  you  do  it." — 
"Alas!"  replied  Bennet  patiently,  "  trouble  me  not ; " 
and  then  holding  up  his  hands,  he  prayed :  "  Father, 
forgive  them !"  The  executioners  immediately  set  fire 
to  the  wood,  and  the  most  fanatical  of  the  spectators, 
both  men  and  women,  seized  with  an  indescribable 
fury,  tore  up  stakes  and  bushes,  and  whatever  they 
could  lay  their  hands  on,  and  fiung  them  all  into  the 
fiames  to  increase  their  violence.  Bennet,  lifting  up 
his  eyes  to  heaven,  exclaimed :  "  Lord,  receive  my 
spirit."  Thus  died,  in  the  sixteenth  century,  the  dis- 
ciples of  the  Reformation,  sacrificed  by  Henry  VIII. 

The  priests,  thanks  to  the  king's  sword,  began  to 
count  on  victory;  yet  schoolmasters,  musicians,  trades- 
men, and  even  ecclesiastics,  were  not  enough  for  them. 
They  wanted  nobler  victims,  and  these  were  to  be 
looked  for  in  London.  More  himself,  accompanied  by 
the  lieutenant  of  the  Tower,  searched  many  of  the 
suspected  houses.  Few  citizens  were  more  esteemed 
in  London  than  John  Petit,  the  same  who,  in  the  house 
of  Commons,  had  so  nobly  resisted  the  king's  demand 
about  the  loan.     Petit  was  learned  in  history  and  in 


PETIT  AND  BILNEY  IN  THE  TOWER. 


•721 


Latin  lilci-nturc :  he  spoke  with  eloquence,  and  for 
twenty  years  had  wortliily  represented  the  city.  'When- 
ever any  important  affair  was  debated  in  parliament, 
the  king,  feeling  uneasy,  was  in  the  habit  of  inquiring 
which  side  he  took.  This  political  independence,  very 
rare  in  Henry's  parliaments,  gave  umbrage  to  the 
prince  and  his  ministers.  Petit,  tlie  friend  of  Bilney, 
Fiyth,  and  Tyndale,  had  been  one  of  the  first  in  Eng- 
land to  taste  the  sweetness  of  God's  Word,  and  liad 
immediately  manifested  that  beautiful  characteristic  by 
which  the  Gospel-faith  makes  itself  known,  namely, 
charity.  He  abounded  in  almsgiving,  supported  a 
great  number  of  j)oor  preachers  of  the  Gospel  in  his 
own  country  and  beyonil  the  seas ;  and  whenever  he 
noted  down  these  generous  aids  in  his  books,  he  wrote 
merely  the  words :  "  Lent  unto  Christ."  He,  more-, 
over,  forbade  his  testamentary  executors  to  call  in 
these  debts. 

Petit  was  tranquilly  enjoying  the  sweets  of  domestic 
life  in  his  modest  home,  in  the  rocicty  of  his  wife  and 
two  daughters,  Blanche  and  Audrey,  when  he  received 
an  imexpected  visit.  One  day,  as  he  was  praying  in 
his  closet,  a  loud  knock  was  heard  at  the  street-door. 
His  wife  ran  to  open  it,  but  seeing  Lord-chancellor 
More,  she  returned  hurriedly  to  her  husband,  and  told 
him  that  the  lord-chancellor  wanted  him.  More,  who 
followed  her,  entered  the  closet,  and  with  inquisitive 
eye  ran  over  the  shelves  of  the  library,  but  coidd 
find  nothing  suspicious.  Pie  entl^  In,  nude  as  if  he 
would  retire,  and  Petit  acconi 
paniod  him.  The  chanccUoi 
stopped  at  the  door,  and  aid 
to  him  :  "You  assert  tli  it  jou 
have  none  of  these  new  took 
— "  Yon  have  seen  my  libi  ii  \ 
replied  Petit. — "  I  am  i  t  1 1 1 
ed,  however,"  replied  Mii 
"  that  you  not  only  read  them 
but  pay  for  the  printing.  And 
then  he  added  in  a  severe  tone 
"Follow  the  lieutenant  In 
spite  of  the  tears  of  his  ivife 
and  daughters  this  indep  ondtnt 
member  of  parliament  w  i  con 
ducted  to  the  Tower,  and  si  ut 
up  in  a  damp  dungeon,  v\  here 
he  had  nothing  but  stii\\  to 
lie  upon.  His  wife  went  thith 
each  day  in  vain,  askini  ^Mtl 
tears,  permission  to  sec  hnii 
or  at  least  to  send  him  i  bt  1 
The  jailers  refused  her  e\  ei  \ 
thing;  and  it  was  only  ^^h  i 
Petit  fell  dangerously  ill  that 
the  latter  favour  was  j  i anted 
him.  This  took  place  in  1530, 
sentence  was  passed  in  1531; 
we  shall  sec  Petit  again  in  his 
prison.    He  left  it,  indeed,  but 

only  to  sink  under  the  cruel  treatment  he  had  there 
experienced. 

Thus  were  the  witnesses  to  the  truth  struck  down  by 
the  priests,  by  Sir  Thomas  More,  and  by  Heni-y  VHI. 
A  new  victim  was  to  be  the  cause  of  many  tears.    A 


'  meek  and  humble  man,  one  dear  to  all  the  friends  of 
the  Gospel,  and  whom  we  may  regard  as  the  spiritual 
father  of  the  Reformation  in  England,  was  on  the  point 
of  mounting  the  burning  pile  raised  by  his  persecutors. 

I  Some  time  prior  to  Petit's  appearance  before  his  judges, 
which  look  place  in  1531,  an  unusual  noise  was  heard 
in  the  cell  above  him ;  it  was  Thomas  Hilney,  whom 
they  were  conducting  to  the  Tower.  We  left  him  at 
the  end  of  1528,  after  his  fall.  Bilney  had  returned 
to  Cambridge  tormented  by  remorse ;  his  friends  in 
vain  crowded  round  him  by  niglit  and  by  day;  they 
could  not  console  him,  and  even  the  Scriptures  seemed 
to  utter  no  voice  but  that  of  condemnation.  Fear  made 
him  tremble  constantly,  and  he  could  scarcely  eat  or 
drink.  At  length  a  heavenly  and  unexpected  light 
dawned  in  the  heart  of  the  fallen  disciple ;  a  witness 
whom  he  had  vexed — the  Holy  Spirit — spoke  once  more 
in  his  heart.  Bilney  fell  at  the  foot  of  the  cross,  shed- 
ding floods  of  tears,  and  there  he  found  peace.  But 
the  more  God  comforted  him,  the  greater  seemed  his 
crime.  One  only  thought  possessed  him,  that  of  giving 
his  life  for  the  truth.  He  had  shrunk  from  before 
the  burning  pile ;  its  flames  must  now  consume  him. 
Neither  the  weakness  of  his  body,  which  his  long 
anguish  had  much  increased,  nor  the  cruelty  of  his 
enemies,  nor  his  natural  timidity,  nothing  could  stop 
him  :  he  strove  for  the  martyr's  crown.  At  ten  o'clock 
one  night,  when  every  person  in  Trinity  Hall  was 
letuing  to  lest,  Bilney  called  his  friends  lounl  him, 


reminded  them  of  his  fall,  and  added:  "You  shall  see 
me  no  more  ...  Do  not  stay  me :  my  decision 
is  formed,  and  I  shall  cany  it  out.  My  face  is  set  to 
go  to  Jerusalem."  Bilney  repeated  the  words  used  by 
the  evangelist,  when  he  describes  Jesus  going  up  to 
3a 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


the  city  where  He  ivas  to  be  put  to  death.  Having 
shaken  hands  with  his  brethren,  this  venerable  man, 
the  foremost  of  the  evangelists  of  England  in  order  of 
time,  left  Cambridge  under  cover  of  the  night,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  Norfolk,  to  confirm  in  the  faith  those  who 
had  believed,  and  to  invite  the  ignorant  multitude  to 
the  Saviour.  We  shall  not  follow  liim  in  this  last  and 
solemn  ministry ;  these  facts,  and  others  of  the  same 
kind,  belong  to  a  later  date.  Before  the  year  1531 
closed  in,  Bilney,  Bainham,  Bayfield,  Tewkesbury,  and 
many  others,  struck  by  Henry's  sword,  sealed  by  their 
blood  the  testimony  rendered  by  them  to  the  perfect 
grace  of  Christ. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

Wolsey's  Terror— Impeachment  by  the  Peers— Cromwell  saves  him— The 
Carainal's  Illness— Ambition  retams  to  him— His  Practices  in  Tork- 
shire— He  is  Arrested  by  Northumberland — His  Departure— Arrival  of 
the  Constable  of  the  Tower— Wolsey  at  Leicester  Abbey— Persecuting 
Language — He  Dies — Three  Movements :  Supremacy,  Scripture,  aud 
Faith. 

"While  many  pious  Christians  were  languishing  in  the 
prisons  of  England,  the  great  antagonist  of  the  Refor- 
mation was  disap^/tiaring  from  the  stage  of  this  world. 
We  must  return  to  Wolsey,  who  was  still  detained  at 
Esher. 

The  cardinal,  fallen  from  the  summit  of  honours, 
was  seized  with  those  panic-terrors  usually  felt  after 
their  disgrace  by  those  who  have  made  a  whole  nation 
tremble ;  and  he  fancied  an  assassin  lay  hid  behind 
every  door.  "  This  very  night,"  he  wrote  to  Cromwell 
on  one  occasion,  "  I  was  as  one  that  should  have  died. 
If  I  might,  I  would  not  fail  to  come  on  foot  to  you, 
rather  than  this  my  speaking  with  you  shall  be  put 
over  and  delayed.  If  the  displeasm-e  of  my  Lady  Anne 
be  somewhat  assuaged,  as  I  pray  God  the  same  may 
be,  then  I  pray  you  exert  all  possible  means  of  attain- 
ing her  favour." 

In  consequence  of  this  Cromwell  hastened  down  to 
Esher  two  or  three  days  after  taking  his  seat  in  parlia- 
ment ;  and  Wolsey,  all  trembling,  recounted  his  fears 
to  him.  "  Norfolk,  Suffolk,  and  Lady  Anne,  perhaps, 
desire  my  death.  Did  not  Thomas  a  Becket,  an  arch- 
bishop, like  me,  stain  the  altar  with  his  blood  1"  .  . 
CromweU  reassured  him,  aud,  moved  by  the  old  man's 
fears,  asked  and  obtained  of  Henry  an  order  of  pro- 
tection. 

Wolsey's  enemies  most  certainly  desired  his  death ; 
but  it  was  from  the  justice  of  the  three  estates,  and 
not  by  the  assassin's  dagger,  tliat  they  sought  it.  The 
house  of  Peers  authorized  Sir  Thomas  More,  the  dukes 
of  Norfolk  and  Suifolk,  and  fourteen  other  lords,  to 
impeach  the  cardinal-legate  of  high  treason.  They 
forgot  nothing  :  that  haughty  formula,  Ego  et  rex  metis, 
I  and  my  king,  which  Wolsey  had  often  employed ;  his 
infringement  of  tlie  laws  of  the  kingdom ;  his  monopo- 
lizing the  church  revenues ;  the  crying  injustice  of 
which  he  had  been  guihy, — as,  for  instance,  in  the  case 
of  Sir  John  Stanley,  who  was  sent  to  prison  until  he 
gave  up  a  lease  to  the  son  of  a  woman  who  had  borne 


the  cardinal  two  children ;  many  families  ruined  to 
satisfy  his  avarice ;  treaties  concluded  with  foreign 
powers  witliout  the  king's  order ;  his  exactions,  which 
had  impoverished  England ;  and  the  foul  diseases  and 
infectious  breath  with  which  he  had  polluted  his  ma- 
jesty's presence.  These  were  some  of  the  forty-four 
grievances  presented  by  the  peers  to  the  king,  and 
which  Henry  sent  down  to  the  lower  house  for  their 
consideration. 

It  was  at  first  thought  that  nobody  in  the  Commons 
would  undertake  Wolsey's  defence,  and  it  was  generally 
expected  that  he  would  be  given  up  to  the  vengeance 
of  the  law,  (as  the  bill  of  impeachment  prayed,)  or,  in 
other  words,  to  the  axe  of  the  executioner.  But  one 
man  stood  up,  and  prepared,  though  alone,  to  defend 
the  cartlinal :  this  was  Cromwell.  The  members  asked 
of  each  other  who  the  unknown  man  was ;  he  soon 
made  himself  known.  His  knowledge  of  facts,  his 
familiarity  with  the  laws,  the  force  of  his  eloquence, 
and  the  moderation  of  his  language,  surprised  the 
house.  Wolsey's  adversaries  had  hardly  aimed  a  blow 
before  the  defender  had  already  parried  it.  If  any 
charge  was  brought  forward  to  which  he  could  not 
reply,  he  proposed  an  adjournment  until  the  next  day, 
departed  for  Esher  at  the  end  of  the  sitting,  conferred 
with  Wolsey,  returned  during  the  night,  and  next 
morning  reappeared  in  the  Commons  with  fresh  arms. 
CromweU  carried  the  house  ivith  him ;  the  impeach- 
ment failed ;  and  Wolsey's  defender  took  his  station 
among  the  statesmen  of  England.  This  victory,  cue 
of  the  greatest  triumplis  of  parliamentary  eloquence  at 
that  period,  satisfied  both  the  ambition  and  the  grati- 
tude of  Cromwell.  He  was  now  firmly  fixed  in  the 
king's  favour,  esteemed  by  the  Commons,  and  admired 
by  the  people :  circumstances  which  furnished  him 
with  the  means  of  bringing  to  a  favourable  conclusion 
the  emancipation  of  the  Church  of  England 

The  ministry,  composed  of  Wolsey's  enemies,  was 
annoyed  at  the  decision  of  the  lower  house,  and  ap- 
pointed a  commission  to  examine  into  the  matter. 
Wlien  the  cardinal  was  informed  of  this  he  fell  into 
new  terrors.  He  lost  all  appetite  and  desire  of  sleep, 
and  a  fever  attacked  him  at  Christmas.  "The  cardinal 
will  be  dead  in  four  days,"  said  his  physician  to  Henry, 
"  if  he  receives  no  comfort  shortly  from  you  and  Lady 
Anne." — "I  would  not  lose  him  for  twenty  thousand 
pounds,"  exclaimed  the  king.  He  desired  to  preserve 
Wolsey  in  case  his  old  minister's  consummate  ability 
should  become  necessary,  which  was  by  no  moans 
unlikely.  Henry  gave  the  doctor  his  portrait  in  a 
ring ;  and  Anne,  at  the  king's  desire,  added  the  tablet 
of  gold  that  hung  at  her  girdle.  The  delighted  cardmal 
placed  the  presents  on  his  bed,  and  as  he  gazed  on  them 
he  felt  his  strength  return.  He  was  removed  from  his 
miserable  dwelling  at  Esher  to  the  royal  palace  at 
Richmond ;  and  before  long  he  was  able  to  go  into 
the  park,  where  every  night  he  read  his  breviary. 

Ambition  and  hope  returned  with  life.  If  the  king 
desired  to  destroy  the  papal  power  in  England,  could 
not  the  proud  cardinal  preserve  it  ?  Might  not  Thomas 
Wolsey  do  under  Henry  VIII.  what  Tiiomas  a  Becket 
had  done  under  Henry  U.  ?  His  see  of  York,  the  igno- 
rance of  the  priests,  the  superstition  of  the  people,  the 
discontent  of  the  great, — all  would  be  of  service  to  him ; 


WOLSEY  ARRESTED  BY  NORTHUMBERLAND. 


723 


r.iul,  indeed,  six  years  later,  40,000  men  were  under 
arms  in  a  moment,  in  Yorksliiro,  to  defend  the  cause  of 
Home.  AVoIsey,  stronp;  in  England  by  the  support  of 
the  nation,  (such  at  least  was  liis  opinion,)  aided  with- 
out by  the  pope  and  the  Continental  powers,  might 
give  the  law  to  Henry,  and  crnsh  the  Reformation. 

The  king  having  permitted  htm  to  go  to  Y'ork, 
"Wolsey  prayed  for  an  increase  to  his  archiepiscopal 
revenues,  which  amounted,  however,  to  four  thousand 
pounds  sterling.  Henry  granted  him  a  thousand  marks ; 
and  the  cardinal,  shortly  before  Easter,  1530,  departed 
with  a  train  of  100  persons.  He  thought  it  was  the 
beginning  of  his  triumph. 

AYolsey  took  up  his  abode  at  Cawood  Castle,  York- 
shire, one  of  his  archiepiscopal  residences,  and  strove 
to  win  the  affections  of  the  people.  Tiiis  prelate,  once 
"the  haughtiest  of  men,"  says  George  Cavendish,  the 
man  who  knew  him  and  served  him  best,  became 
quite  a  pattern  of  affability.  He  kept  an  open  table, 
distributed  bounteous  alms  at  his  gate,  said  mass  in 
the  village  churches,  went  and  dined  with  the  neigh- 
bouring gentry,  gave  splendid  entertainments,  and  wrote 
to  several  princes  imploring  their  help.  AVe  are 
assured  that  he  even  requested  the  pope  to  excommuni- 
cate Heni7  VIII.  All  being  thus  prepared,  he  thought 
he  might  make  his  solemn  entry  into  York,  preparatory 
to  his  enthronization,  which  was  fixed  for  Monday, 
the  5th  of  November. 

Every  movement  of  his  was  known  at  court;  every 
action  was  canvassed,  and  its  importance  exaggerated. 
"  AYe  thought  we  had  brought  him  down,"  some  said, 
"and  here  he  is  rising  up  again."  Henry  himself  was 
alarmed.  "  The  cardinal,  by  his  detestable  intrigues," 
he  said,  "  is  conspiring  against  my  crown,  and  plotting 
both  at  home  and  abroad ;"  the  king  even  added  ivhere 
and  how.     "VYolsey's  destruction  was  resolved  upon. 

The  morning  after  All  Saints'  day,  (Friday,  2d 
November,)  the  Earl  of  Northumberland,  attended  by 
a  numerous  escort,  arrived  at  Cawood,  where  the  car- 
dinal was  still  residing.  He  was  the  same  Percy  whose 
affection  for  Anne  Boloyn  had  been  thwarted  by 
Wolsey;  and  there  may  have  been  design  in  Henry's 
ciioice.  The  cardinal  eagerly  moved  forward  to  meet 
this  unexpected  guest,  and,  impatient  to  know  the 
object  of  his  riission,  took  him  into  his  bed-chamber, 
luider  the  pre  ence  of  changing  his  travelling  dress. 
They  both  renaiued  some  time  standing  at  a  window 
without  utter .ng  a  word;  the  earl  looked  confused  and 
agitated,  wliilst  "Wolsey  endeavoured  to  repress  his 
emotion.  l3ut  at  last,  with  a  strong  effort,  North- 
umberland laid  his  hand  upon  the  arm  of  his  former 
master,  ar  d  with  a  low  voice  said :  "  My  lord,  I  arrest 
you  for  liigh  treason."  The  cardinal  remained  speech- 
less, as  it  stunned.  He  was  kept  a  prisoner  in  his 
room. 

It  is  doubtful  whether  "Wolsey  was  guilty  of  the 
crime  >\  ith  which  he  was  charged.  We  may  believe 
that  he  entertained  the  idea  of  some  day  bringing  about 
the  trir.mph  of  the  popedom  in  England,  even  should  it 
cause  Henry's  ruin;  but  perhaps  this  was  all.  But 
an  ide  I  is  not  a  conspiracy,  although  it  may  rapidly 
expand  into  one. 

More  than  three  thousand  persons  (attracted,  not  by 
hatred,  like   the  Londoners,  when  "Wolsey  departed 


from  Whitehall,  but  by  entliusiasjn)  collected  the  next 
day  before  the  castle  to  salute  the  cardiiuil.  "God 
save  your  grace ! "  they  shouted  on  every  side,  and  a 
numerous  crowd  escorted  him  at  night ;  some  carried 
torches  in  tlieir  hands,  and  all  made  the  air  re-echo 
with  their  cries.  The  unhappy  pi-elatc  was  conducted 
to  Sheffield  Park,  the  residence  of  the  Earl  of  Shrews- 
bury. Some  days  after  his  arrival,  the  faithful  Caven- 
dish ran  to  him,  exclaiming :  "  Good  news,  my  lord ! 
Sir  William  Kingston  and  twenty-four  of  the  guard 
are  come  to  escort  you  to  his  majesty." — "  Kingston  ! " 
exclaimed  the  cardinal,  turning  pale,  "  Kingston  !"  and 
then,  slapping  his  hand  on  his  thigh,  he  heaved  a  deep 
sigh.  This  news  had  crushed  his  mind.  One  day  a 
fortune-teller,  whom  he  consulted,  had  told  him :  "  You 
shall  have  your  end  at  Kingston ;  "  and  from  that  time 
tiie  cardinal  had  cai-cfully  avoided  tlic  town  of  King- 
ston-on-Thames. But  now  he  thought  he  understood 
the  prophecy.  .  .  .  Kingston,  constable  of  the 
Tower,  was  about  to  cause  his  death.  Tiiey  left 
Sheffield  Park ;  but  fright  had  given  Wolsey  his  deatli- 
blow.  Several  times  he  was  near  falling  from  his 
mule,  ajid  on  the  third  day,  when  they  reached  Leicester 
Abbey,  he  said  as  he  entered :  "  Father  abbot,  I  am 
come  hither  to  leave  my  bones  among  you;"  and  im 
mediately  took  to  his  bed.  This  was  on  Saturday,  the 
26th  of  November. 

On  Monday  morning,  tormented  by  gloomy  forebod- 
ings, Wolsey  asked  what  was  the  time  of  day.  "  Past 
eight  o'clock,"  replied  Cavendish. — "That  cannot  be," 
said  the  cardinal ;  "  eight  o'clock.  ...  No'  for  by 
eight  o'clock  you  shall  lose  your  master."  At  six  on 
Tuesday,  Kingston  having  come  to  inquire  about  his 
health,  'S\''olsey  said  to  him :  "  I  shall  not  live  long."— 
"  Be  of  good  cheer,"  rejoined  the  governor  of  the 
Tower. — "Alas  !  master  Kingston,"  exclaimed  the  car- 
dinal, "if  I  had  served  God  as  diligently  as  I  have 
served  the  king.  He  would  not  have  given  me  over  in 
my  grey  hairs ! " — and  then  he  added  with  downcast 
head:  "This  is  my  just  reward."  What  a  judgment 
upon  his  own  life ! 

On  the  veiy  threshold  of  eternity  (for  he  had  but  a 
few  minutes  more  to  live)  the  cardinal  summoned  up 
all  his  hatred  against  the  Reformation,  and  made  a  la-st 
effort.  The  persecution  was  too  slow  to  please  him. 
"Master  Kingston,"  he  said,  "attend  to  my  last  re- 
quest :  tell  the  king  that  I  coujm-e  liim  in  God's  name 
to  destroy  this  new  pernicious  sect  of  Lutherans."  And 
then,  with  astonishing  presence  of  mind  in  this  his 
last  hour,  AYolsey  described  the  misfortunes  which  the 
Hussites  had,  in  his  opinion,  brought  upon  Bohemia ; 
and  then,  coming  to  England,  he  recalled  the  times  of 
Wickliffe  and  Sir  John  Oldcastle.  He  grew  ani- 
mated; his  dying  eyes  yet  shot  forth  fiery  glances. 
He  trembled  lest  Henry  VIH.,  unfaithful  to  the  pope, 
should  hold  out  his  hand  to  the  reformers.  "  Master 
Kingston,"  said  he,  in  conclusion,  "  the  king  should 
know,  that  if  he  tolerates  heresy  God  will  take  away 
his  power,  and  we  shall  then  have  mischief  upon  mis- 
chief, ....  barrenness,  scarcity,  and  disorder,  to 
the  utter  destruction  of  this  realm." 

Wolsey  was  exhausted  by  the  effort.  After  a 
momentary  silence,  he  resumed  with  a  dying  voice : 
"Master  Kingston,  farewell!      My  time  draweth  on 


HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 


fast.  Forget  not  what  I  have  said  and  charged  you 
withal;  for  wlien  I  am  dead  ye  shall,  peradventure, 
understand  my  words  better."  It  was  with  difficulty 
he  uttered  these  words ;  his  tongue  began  to  falter,  his 
eyes  became  fixed,  his  sight  failed  him ;  he  breathed 
his  last.  At  the  same  minute  the  clock  struck  eight, 
and  the  attendants  standing  round  his  bed  looked  at  each 
other  iu  affright.  It  was  the  20th  of  November,  1530. 
Thus  died  tlie  man  once  so  much  feared.  Power  had 
been  his  idol :  to  obtain  it  in  the  State  he  had  sacrificed 
the  liberties  of  England ;  and  to  win  it,  or  to  preserve 
it  iu  the  Church,  he  had  fought  against  the  Reforma- 
tion. If  he  encouraged  the  nobility  in  the  luxuries 
and  pleasures  of  life,  it  was  only  to  render  them  more 
supple  and  more  servile ;  if  he  supported  learning,  it 
was  only  that  ho  might  have  a  clergy  fitted  to  keep  the 
laity  iu  their  leadiug- strings.  Ambitious,  intriguing, 
and  impure  of  life,  he  had  been  as  zealous  for  the 
sacerdotal  prerogative  as  the  austere  Becket ;  and,  by 
a  singular  contrast,  a  shirt  of  hair  was  found  on  the 
body  of  this  voluptuous  man.  The  aim  of  his  life  had 
been  to  raise  the  papal  power  higher  than  it  had  ever 
been  before,  at  the  very  moment  when  the  Reformation 
was  attempting  to  bring  it  down  ;  and  to  take  his  scat 
on  the  pontifical  tlirone,  with  more  than  the  authority 
of  a  Hildebrand.  Wolsey,  as  pope,  would  have  been 
the  man  of  his  age ;  and  in  the  political  world  he 
would  have  done  for  the  Roman  primacy  what  the 
celebrated  Loyola  did  for  it  soon  after  by  his  fanaticism. 
Obliged  to  renounce  this  idea,  worthy  only  of  the  Mid- 
dle Ages,  he  had  desired  at  least  to  save  the  popedom 
in  his  own  countiy ;  but  here  again  he  liad  failed.  The 
pilot  who  had  stood  in  England  at  the  helm  of  the 
Romish  Church  was  thrown  overboard,  and  the  ship, 
left  to  itself,  was  about  to  founder.  And  yet,  even  in 
death,  he  did  not  lose  his  courage.  The  last  throbs 
of  his  heart  had  called  for  victims  ;  the  last  words  from 
his  failing  lips,  the  last  message  to  his  master,  his  last 
testament,  had  been  ....  Persecution.  This 
testament  was  to  be  only  too  faithfully  executed. 

The  epoch  of  the  fall  and  death  of  Cardinal  Wolsey, 
which  is  the  point  at  which  we  halt,  was  not  only 
important,  because  it  ended  the  life  of  a  man  who  had 
presided  over  the  destinies  of  England,  and  had  endea- 
voured to  grasp  the  sceptre  of  tlie  world ;  but  it  is  of 
especial  consequence,  because  then  three  movements 
were  accomplished,  from  which  the  great  transforma- 
tion of  the  sixteenth  century  was  to  proceed.  Each  of 
those  movements  has  its  characteristic  result. 

The  first  is  represented  by  Cromwell.  The  supre- 
macy of  the  pope  in  England  was  about  to  be  wrested 
from  him,  as  it  was  in  all  the  reformed  churches.  But 
a  step  farther  was  taken  in  England.  That  supremacy 
was  transferred  to  the  person  of  the  king.  Wolsey 
had  exercised,  as  vicar-general,  a  power  till  then  un- 
known.    Unable  to  become  pope  at  the  Vatican,  lie 


liad  made  himself  a  pope  at  Whitehall.  Heniy  had 
permitted  his  minister  to  raise  this  hierarchical  throne 
by  the  side  of  his  own.  But  he  had  soon  discovered 
that  there  ought  not  to  be  two  thrones  in  England,  or 
at  least  not  two  kings.  lie  had  dethroned  Wolsey; 
aiul  resiilnli'Iy  sealiiiu'  Iiiiiisclf  in  liis  place,  he  was 
about  t()  assume  al  \\liil''liall  lliat  tiara  which  the  am- 
bitious pri'lalr  hail  jji-cparcil  fur  liinisrlf.  Some  persons, 
when  they  saw  this,  exclaimed,  tliat  if  the  papal  supre- 
macy were  abolished,  that  of  the  Word  of  God  ought 
alone  to  be  substituted.  And,  indeed,  the  true  Refor- 
mation is  not  to  be  found  in  this  first  movement. 

The  second,  which  was  essential  to  the  renewal  of 
the  Church,  was  rej^resentcd  by  Cranmer,  and  consisted 
particularly  iu  re-establishing  the  authority  of  Holy 
Scripture.  Wolsey  did  not  fall  alone,  nor  did  Cranmer 
rise  alone  :  each  of  these  two  men  carried  with  him 
the  systems  he  i-epresented.  The  fabric  of  Roman 
traditions  fell  with  the  first ;  the  foundatious  of  the 
Holy  Scriptures  were  laid  by  the  second ;  and  yet, 
while  we  render  all  justice  to  the  sincerity  of  the 
Cambridge  doctor,  we  must  not  be  blind  to  his  weak- 
nesses, his  subserviency,  and  even  a  certain  degree  of 
negligence,  which,  by  allowing  parasite  plants  to  shoot 
up  here  and  there,  permitted  tliem  to  spread  over  the 
living  rock  of  God's  Word.  Not  in  this  movement, 
then,  was  found  the  Reformation  with  all  its  energy 
and  all  its  purity. 

The  third  movement  was  represented  by  the  martyrs. 
When  the  Church  takes  a  new  life,  it  is  fertilized  by  the 
blood  of  its  confessors ;  and  being  continually  exposed 
to  corruption,  it  has  constant  need  to  be  purified  by 
suffering.  Not  in  the  palaces  of  Henry  VIU.,  nor 
even  iu  the  councils  where  the  question  of  throwing 
off  the  papal  supremacy  was  discussed,  must  we  look 
for  the  true  children  of  the  Reformation ;  we  must  go 
to  the  Tower  of  London,  to  the  Lollards'  towers  of  St. 
Paul's  and  of  Lambeth,  to  the  other  prisons  of  England, 
to  the  bishops'  cellars,  to  the  fetters,  the  stocks,  the 
rack,  and  the  stake.  The  godly  men  who  invoked  the 
sole  intercession  of  Christ  Jesus,  the  only  head  of  His 
people,  who  wandered  up  and  down,  deprived  of  every- 
thing, gagged,  scoffed  at,  scourged,  and  tortured,  and 
who,  in  the  midst  of  all  their  tribulations,  preserved 
their  Christian  patience,  and  turned,  like  their  Master, 
the  eyes  of  their  faith  towards  Jerusalem  : — those  were 
the  disciples  of  the  Reformation  in  England.  Tlie 
purest  church  is  the  church  under  the  cross. 

The  father  of  this  church  in  England  was  not  Henry 
Vlll.  When  the  king  cast  into  prison  or  gave  to  the 
flames  men  like  Hitton,  Bennet,  Patmore,  Petit,  Bay- 
field, Biluey,  and  so  many  others,  he  was  not  "the 
father  of  the  Reformation  of  England,"  as  some  have 
so  falsely  asserted :  he  was  its  executioner. 

The  Church  of  England  was  foredoomed  to  be,  in  its 
renovation,  a  church  of  martyrs ;  and  the  true  father 
of  this  Church  is  our  Father  which  is  in  heaven. 


William  Colli.ns  &  Co.,  Pkinters,  Glasgow. 


C( 


0315024865 


33/8 


m'a^a. 


BRITTLE  DO  NOT 
PHOTOCOPY 


